#this story is angsty on another level

[dr3adlady]

I'm working on a new fic which I'm going to name "born to burn", and it's going to be a western. I always loved the genre, and Sandor is one of those characters who look like they have just walked out of a duel alive, so it was just a matter of time till I made such an au :))) I'm very excited about it, and the first chapter will be released soon.

[xiaoriae]

and… what if…. i start writing for the LnD boys….

[kingofbodyrolls]

Friendcation (m) | myg | pregnancy special

you and Yoongi try to get pregnant, but it doesn’t go as planned, as the road isn’t easy. But he’s your rock, and he’ll stand with you through thick and thin 💜

→ Pairing: mechanic!Yoongi x reader (female) → AUs: established relationship, mechanic!Yoongi, married!au, pregnancy!au → Genres: slice of life, humor/crack, smut and fluff → Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) → Word count: 7.5k → Warnings (general) + triggers: mentions of blood because of SPOILER a miscarriage (there’s blood but know more detail than that), angst, anxiety/fear for the future and for a miscarriage again, pregnancy, raging hormones, drinking sorrows away, getting angry without course, yelling without course, OC is being rather destructive in this one but Yoongi is very sweet, understanding and supportive 👏 → Warnings (explicit): unprotected sex (is this really a surprise? But please don’t be stupid irl, though they aren’t stupid here ‘cuz they’re actively trying for a baby); oral (female and male receiving), doggystyle over a table 😝, spanks, creampie, cockwarming, kisses (yes that is a warning because it’s sugary sweet 😘), multiple orgasms → Author’s note: hiya all you lovely people! I’m back at it again with another extra for friendcation and let me tell you, even though this is very angsty, I loved writing it a lot. I drew from my own experience (miscarriages), but I didn’t want to go into too much detail, so it’s very light. But it does affect OC and her mood, like she almost gets depressed over it 😢 But Yoongi is there to pick her up and support her, so don’t worry! It’s a sweet one, and of course it has a happy ending, because you know what’s gonna happen in the winter special that I wrote a long time ago! I hope you love it as much as I did! This one was honestly so fast for me to write, like a few hours! It’s so much easier for me when I write from my own personal experience. And if you’ve ever had a miscarriage, I want to give you a hug, and please know that you’re not alone, okay? 🫂 (author’s note2: I wrote this story in the beginning of August 2024) → Read on AO3? [link] ✨

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“There are two lines!” you cry out, bursting into the living room with a pregnancy test clutched in your trembling hand. You twirl it in the air like a magic wand, watching the realization spread across your husband’s face, his eyes lighting up with a mixture of joy and wonder. He moves toward you, a smile breaking across his lips, and in one swift motion, he wraps you in his arms, pulling you close as he plants a tender kiss on your cheek.

“Are you really pregnant?” he murmurs, his voice soft yet trembling with excitement and a touch of fear. You hear the uncertainty beneath his joy, the way hope and anxiety dance together in his words. You’ve both dreamed of this moment, talked about it late into the night, imagining the tiny life you would create together. Ever since your honeymoon, where every whispered wish was laced with the hope of creating a new life, this has been your shared dream. And now, it’s real. The weight of it hits you all at once, and tears well up in your eyes, spilling over as the emotions of the moment overwhelm you.

He kisses you again, this time with more intensity. “I can’t wait to have a baby with you,” he whispers against your skin.

Neither can you. The joy is too immense to contain, so you schedule a doctor’s appointment, needing to hear it confirmed, to know for certain that your dream is taking root inside you. Yoongi is right there beside you, holding your hand as the doctor measures your HCG levels via a blood test and tells you the news you’ve been waiting for—you’re pregnant, and not just newly so. Eight weeks have already passed, and suddenly, the idea of this tiny life feels even more real.

Giddy with excitement, the two of you start to dream out loud, envisioning a life that needs more space to grow. The apartment where you built your love, small and cozy as it is, now feels too cramped for the family you want to become. You’ve always talked about raising your children just outside the city, where the air is cleaner, and the pace of life slower, where a bigger house awaits with room enough for your growing dreams. Yoongi smiles at the thought of a garage, where he can create and tinker, a space of his own.

You start house hunting in the suburbs surrounding Seoul, imagining nurseries painted in soft pastels, browsing baby clothes with tiny sleeves, and laughing over the choices. Each step feels like a dream in the making, a life slowly unfolding before you, full of promise and possibility.

But today has been long, and your body is weary. The excitement has worn you down, and as you return home, you kick off your shoes with a sigh, feeling the ache in your swollen feet. You glance around, hoping to hear the familiar sounds of your husband’s return, but the apartment is quiet. You open the fridge and pull out a cold bottle of water, hoping it will soothe your frayed nerves. The stress of your marketing job clings to you like a shadow, and all you want is a moment to unwind, to let go of the day’s tension.

As you set the bottle down on the counter, a sudden, sharp pain radiates through your stomach. Your hand instinctively flies to your belly, and you double over, gasping as the pain intensifies. It’s not normal, you think, panic rising in your chest. Something is wrong.

When you look down at the floor, a wave of horror crashes over you. 

Blood. 

Dark, vivid, and far too much of it. It’s pooling beneath you, seeping through your clothes, and it’s only then that you fully realize how soaked you are. 

Terror grips you, squeezing your chest, making it hard to breathe. Tears well up in your eyes, your breath comes in ragged gasps as panic begins to set in. This can’t be happening—this much blood, it’s not normal, not now, not when you’re carrying life inside you. A flood of thoughts races through your mind: is the baby inside you still safe? Or is this the cruel end to a dream that had only just begun? 

You need Yoongi—his steady presence, his strong arms, his comforting words—but he’s not here.

With trembling hands, you fumble for your phone, digging it out of your skirt pocket, and desperately pull up your husband’s contact. The phone barely rings before the door to your apartment creaks open, and there he is, stepping inside. Relief mixes with fear as he rushes to you, his eyes widening in shock as he takes in the scene—the blood, your trembling form, the tears streaming down your face.

Without a word, he’s at your side, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you close. His fingers, rough from years of work, trace gentle, soothing circles on your back, trying to calm the storm inside you.

“What happened?” he asks, trying to keep his voice steady, but you can hear the tremor beneath his words, the fear that he’s trying so hard to mask. His breath comes quicker, and though he tries to be strong for you, you can see the terror in his eyes, mirroring your own.

“Out of nowhere, the pain started,” you sob, clutching at your stomach, “and then the bleeding... so much blood.” Your voice breaks as the pain flares again, sharp and unforgiving.

Yoongi pulls you to your feet, his grip firm but tender, “We need to get you to the doctor’s. Now.” His words are clipped, urgent, but his touch is all comfort as he guides you out of the apartment, into the elevator, and finally into the car. The drive is shrouded in a thick, suffocating silence, broken only by your muffled sobs. The fear that’s lodged in your throat is too heavy to put into words, and deep down, you’re terrified of what you might say if you tried.

At the doctor’s office, the cold gel on your stomach is a jarring contrast to the heat of your fear. The ultrasound screen flickers to life, and there it is—a heartbeat, strong and steady. Relief washes over you like a cool breeze, but it’s tinged with uncertainty. You dare not hope too much, not yet.

Yoongi’s voice cuts through the silence, steady but laced with anxiety, “Why is she bleeding so much?” His eyes search the doctor’s face for reassurance, for something solid to hold onto.

The doctor hesitates, their gaze softening as they meet your wide, tear-streaked eyes. “It’s not uncommon to bleed in the early stages of pregnancy,” they explain gently. “Everything could be okay, but…” they pause, and the weight of that single word hangs heavy in the air, “it might be a miscarriage in progress. I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do except wait and see what happens.” The apology in their voice is almost unbearable, as if they’re sorry for delivering such uncertain news.

And so you wait, the days stretching out like an endless horizon. The bleeding continues, each drop a reminder of the life that hangs in the balance. Yoongi never leaves your side, holding you close through the long, silent nights. You curl into a ball on the bed, grief pulling you into its dark embrace, and you weep for what you fear you’ve lost, though no one has told you for certain. You cry yourself to sleep most nights, haunted by the thought that the heartbeat you saw was the last flicker of hope, slowly fading away.

You feel like a hollow shell, a prisoner within your own skin, drifting through the motions of life, performing tasks you know you should care about but no longer do. The days blur together in a monotony of routines—going to work, waking up, all the things that once held meaning now feel like burdens. The joy that once colored your world has faded to gray. Yet, Yoongi remains by your side, unwavering in his support, whispering words of comfort, promising that everything will be okay. But when the doctor confirms your worst fears, telling you that the life you carried is no longer, you don’t even cry.

It’s as if your tears have run dry, drained by days of sorrow, leaving you numb and empty. Yoongi pulls you into his arms, holding you tightly, trying to shield you from the storm that rages inside. You feel his heartbeat, strong and steady, and you cling to it like a lifeline.

Back home, you slip off your shoes and head straight for the alcohol cabinet. The house is quiet, the air heavy with the weight of your grief. You reach for a bottle of red wine, the one you’ve been saving for a special occasion. With a shaky hand, you uncork it and pour the crimson liquid into a glass, filling it almost to the brim. You glance at your husband, managing a weak smile. “Do you want one?”

“It’s the middle of the day on a Saturday,” he says softly, concern lacing his voice. But you just shrug, raising the glass to your lips as if it could wash away the pain. “But I don’t mind drinking with you,” he adds, grabbing a glass for himself and pouring some wine. After all, it’s five o’clock somewhere, right?

He settles beside you on the couch, wrapping an arm around you, and you lean into him, seeking the comfort of his warmth. The past few days have been a blur of tears and aching silence, and as you take a sip of the wine, the familiar burn in your throat offers a momentary escape. You know it’s not a solution, but today, you allow yourself this indulgence. Tomorrow will be different, you tell yourself. Tomorrow is a new day.

Yoongi doesn’t say much; he simply kisses the top of your head, holding you close as you both drink in the quiet of the day. There’s a solace in his presence, in the way his arms encircle you, making you feel safe even as the world crumbles around you. The wine, the warmth of his body, the soft hum of his voice as he sings you a lullaby—it’s all a balm to your wounded soul.

Before long, sleep overtakes you, and you drift off with your head resting on his lap, his fingers gently combing through your hair. When you wake, your head throbs with a dull ache, and your eyes feel dry and gritty. You rub them, groaning softly as you stretch. Yoongi isn’t beside you, but on the table, you find a glass of water and a couple of painkillers waiting for you. The small gesture makes your heart swell with love.

As you swallow the pills, Yoongi emerges from the bathroom, a towel slung low around his hips, droplets of water clinging to his skin. His voice, still thick with sleep, wraps around you like a warm blanket. “How are you feeling, babe?”

A small smile tugs at your lips. “I have a slight headache, but I’m okay,” you reply, pouting playfully as you try to tame your unruly hair. “Thank you for indulging me,” you add, feeling a surge of gratitude for the way he understands you, even in your darkest moments.

He crosses the room, sitting beside you on the couch, his presence a steady anchor in the turbulent sea of your emotions. “I’ll always be by your side, babe, you know that,” he says, his voice soft but filled with unwavering conviction.

You nod, your heart swelling with a love so deep it almost hurts. Because you do know. And you love him all the more for it.

He disappears into the bedroom to get dressed, and when he returns, he sits beside you again, his hand finding yours, his touch grounding you. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You hesitate, fidgeting with your fingers, feeling the weight of the words that hover on your lips. But you know that talking might help, that sharing the burden might make it easier to bear. So you take a deep breath and let the words spill out.

“I want to try to get pregnant again,” you confess, the hurt still fresh, but beneath it, a flicker of hope. Despite the pain, despite everything, you still want that baby. You still believe in the dream that once filled you with so much joy.

Yoongi looks at you, his eyes soft with understanding. He nods, his grip on your hand tightening just a little. “Okay,” he says, his voice steady and sure. “Let’s try again then.”

And in that moment, you know that no matter what comes next, you won’t be facing it alone.

And so you try, again and again, in every possible way, in so many positions that it borders on the absurd. The weeks blur into months, yet each time you face the stark emptiness of a negative pregnancy test, hope crumbles a little more. You feel bombed, discouraged, like a balloon slowly deflating, the air of optimism leaking out with each failed attempt. You never imagined it would be this hard to conceive, and the disappointment weighs heavy on your heart.

Doubt creeps in like a shadow, wrapping its cold fingers around your thoughts. You begin to wonder if there’s something wrong with your body, some hidden flaw that’s keeping you from the one thing you want most. Why isn’t it happening? And yet, beneath the yearning, there’s a trembling fear—fear of what will happen when you finally see those two lines again. Fear of reliving the pain of another loss.

“Maybe we should see a doctor,” Yoongi suggests one quiet afternoon as you both pick at your food, the silence between you thick with unspoken worries. “Maybe I should get my sperm checked,” he muses, his voice tinged with a mix of concern and determination.

You nod, though deep down you doubt that he’s the problem. It feels like the fault lies with you, that your body is betraying you. Isn’t there something about a woman’s fertility dipping after thirty? You vaguely recall reading that somewhere, and it haunts you now. But Yoongi’s right—there’s no harm in getting checked. Perhaps it will give you some answers, or at least a direction.

A few days later, you walk into your doctor’s office with leaden feet and little hope, convinced that age has already set its limits on your dreams. The tests are done, the waiting begins, and you brace yourself for the worst. But when the results come back, they reveal that everything is fine—your fertility is normal, Yoongi’s sperm is in excellent shape. So why isn’t it happening? The question echoes in your mind, relentless and cruel.

Frustration gnaws at you, its claws sinking deeper with each passing day. You find yourself snapping at your colleagues, the tension spilling over in ways you can’t control. Apologies tumble from your lips almost as often as the sharp words that precede them. At home, you manage to hold your temper, but you fear it’s only a matter of time before even Yoongi becomes a target, despite his unwavering support.

Making love, once a source of joy and connection, now feels hollow, reduced to a mechanical routine. The passion that once ignited between you has dimmed, replaced by a clinical determination to conceive. You know Yoongi feels it too; he’s always been attuned to your moods.

“I’m not fucking you when you’re not in the mood,” he says one night, his voice low but firm.

You scoff, anger flaring as you rise from the bed. “Just fuck me so I can get pregnant.”

“No,” he replies, his tone unyielding. “Not when your heart’s not in it.”

With that, he stands up, naked and resolute, pulling his clothes back on as you lie there, seething and tearful, frustration coursing through you like a fever. The anger isn’t just at him; it’s at yourself, at your body, at the unfairness of it all. You hear him in the kitchen, the clatter of dishes a stark contrast to the silence that fills the bedroom. You pull yourself together, dressing slowly, avoiding the mirror because you know you won’t like what you see—a woman who feels trapped in a body that won’t cooperate, stuck between desire and despair.

But Yoongi isn’t wrong. Pushing yourself when your heart isn’t in it won’t help, you know that. You just can’t help the desperation that drives you to this point. Taking a deep breath, you step out of the bedroom and find him in the kitchen. Without a word, you wrap your arms around him, burying your face in his chest. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, your voice thick with regret. “I’ll do better.”

He hugs you back, strong and warm, and in that embrace, you find a flicker of comfort. You kiss, a promise unspoken between you, and you feel a surge of gratitude for the man who stands beside you through all the heartbreak and frustration. Whatever comes next, you know you’re in this together.

You immerse yourself in research, scouring every corner of the internet for vitamins, supplements, and rituals that might tip the odds in your favor. Each new discovery feels like a lifeline, something to cling to in the relentless tide of hope and disappointment. But one day, after yet another fruitless search, you feel a wave of exhaustion wash over you—a weariness that reaches deep into your bones. You close your laptop with a heavy sigh and turn to Yoongi, the words slipping from your lips before you can second-guess them. 

“I don’t think I want to have kids anymore,” you say, your voice eerily calm, as if stating a simple fact. But inside, you feel as cold and distant as the words sound. Yoongi’s head snaps toward you so quickly that you can almost hear the air shift. His eyes search your face, trying to comprehend the sudden shift in your resolve.

“We can just keep trying,” he replies, his voice gentle but with an undercurrent of desperation, as though he’s pleading with you—because he is. You know how deeply he longs for babies, for a family built on the love you share.

But the weight of it all crushes you, and the tears you’ve held back for so long finally threaten to spill over. “I don’t think I can,” you whisper, your voice breaking as a sob catches in your throat. The exhaustion, the fear, the endless cycle of hope and heartbreak—it’s too much.

Yoongi pulls you into his arms, his embrace warm and reassuring. He pats your back, murmuring that it’s okay, that everything will be fine, even as he holds you a little tighter, as if trying to shield you from the pain. He pulls back slightly, his eyes locking with yours, and you see the sincerity in them—the way he’s willing to let go of his own dreams for your sake. 

“We don’t have to have kids if you don’t want to anymore,” he says, his voice steady, his gaze unwavering, making sure you know he means it. It’s not just a comfort; it’s a promise.

You swallow hard, the enormity of the decision weighing on you. Could you keep trying? Maybe. But fear coils around your heart, tightening with each passing thought. The future feels uncertain, and that terrifies you.

“Maybe,” you begin, searching for the right words, “we could still try, but not focus on it so much. I don’t think it’s healthy for me to be this obsessed.”

He nods, a small smile playing on his lips as relief softens his features. “Maybe we should rekindle our love,” he suggests gently. “Sex shouldn’t feel like a chore, and I hate that it does for you,” he adds, a pout forming on his lips as he looks at you with concern. “How can I make it better for you?”

You take a moment to ponder his question, reflecting on the love you share, the bond that has always been strong, even in the face of adversity. You realize that it’s not about what’s missing, but about what’s been neglected—the time, the attention, the simple joys of being together. Your hectic schedules have stolen moments that should have been yours, and now you feel the distance.

“Do you want to go on a date with me?” you ask, a shy smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

His chuckle is like music, sweet and comforting, warming you from the inside out. “Always,” he replies, intertwining his fingers with yours, his touch a silent vow of affection.

In the weeks that follow, you carve out more time for each other, stepping back from the rush of work to simply be together. You surprise him at his garage, sharing takeout in his cluttered office, laughing over greasy fries and soda. You catch late-night movies, stroll through the mall hand-in-hand, visit little cafes tucked away in the corners of the city. You do all the things you’ve missed, the simple, everyday joys that once made your love effortless, and already you feel lighter, happier.

Amidst this rekindling of your love, you stumble upon the perfect house just outside of Seoul. It’s spacious, with a large living room that echoes with the laughter of future children you haven’t given up on just yet. The garden sprawls wide, with enough space for dreams to grow, and the garage—oh, the garage is exactly what Yoongi has always wanted, a place to tinker and create. When you step inside for the first time, you feel it in your bones—this is home. It speaks to you, calls to something deep within you, and you see the same recognition in Yoongi’s eyes. 

The decision to buy the house is easy, almost instinctual, as if you’ve always known this was where you were meant to be. You celebrate with friends, toasting to the new chapter that’s about to begin, and their joy mirrors your own. The move won’t happen until summer, giving you a few precious months to pack up your life and prepare for the future. And for the first time in a long while, that future doesn’t feel so daunting—it feels full of possibilities.

It’s March, and winter still clings to the world with frosty fingers, the cold seeping through the cracks of the early morning. Yoongi holds you extra close as you stroll along the river, the chill in the air making you grateful for the wool scarf he wrapped around your neck with such tender care. Your hand finds refuge in the deep pocket of his coat, where your fingers intertwine, sharing warmth with each squeeze and caress. 

As you walk, you take in the quiet beauty of the morning. Couples sit huddled on benches, whispering secrets, some stealing kisses as if the cold gives them courage. Children chase each other across the dewy grass, their laughter like wind chimes in the crisp air. You savor these moments, these tranquil walks before the world wakes up fully and the weather softens into spring.

Yoongi tugs you toward a small coffee shop nestled by the river, and soon you’re cradling steaming cups of hot cocoa. The rich scent of chocolate wraps around you like a comforting blanket as you settle into a cozy corner. Across the table, Yoongi’s fingers dance playfully over yours, each brush sending electric jolts through your body. His touch warms you from the inside out, and you feel the heat rise to your cheeks, though you try to hide it.

Suddenly, he chuckles, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “You’ve got something on your face,” he teases, pointing at your mouth.

You fumble to wipe it away, but before you can, Yoongi leans over the table, closing the distance between you. His lips capture yours in a soft kiss, his tongue slipping out to clean the smudge of cocoa from your mouth. The simple act is intimate, thrilling, and utterly unexpected.

“Yoongi, we’re in public,” you stammer, your voice a mix of scolding and breathless surprise. The audacity of his gesture stirs a warmth between your legs, a desire that flickers to life like a spark catching flame.

“When has that ever bothered me?” he retorts with a mischievous grin, his boldness both shocking and endearing.

You stare at him, baffled by his audacity, but also deeply drawn to it. With a playful smile, you grab his hand, pulling him up from his chair. “Let’s get home before you get us kicked out.”

Laughter bubbles between you as you walk hand in hand, the cold forgotten in the heat of the moment. By the time you step into the elevator, the tension has built to a fever pitch, and you find yourself unable to wait any longer. You pounce on him, surprising Yoongi with the fiery need in your kiss, your lips capturing his in a fierce embrace.

“I want you, Yoon,” you whisper breathlessly, your lips brushing against his ear as you tighten your arms around his neck. “I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t walk tomorrow.”

His giggle is low and throaty, the sound reverberating through you as his back meets the steel of the elevator wall. “Hmmm, you’d like that, huh?”

“Yes,” you pant, your breath hot against his skin. You lick your lips, eyes dark with desire. “You can decide how you want it. My birthday present to you.”

He chuckles, kissing you softly, tenderly, as he murmurs, “But you already gave me a scotch, a new toolbox, and a house,” a kiss for each gift, each one lingering longer than the last. “You don’t need to give me more.”

“And sex shouldn’t really be a gift,” he adds, his lips quirking into a smile, but you nod, already knowing this. 

“Doesn’t change the fact that I want you inside me,” you counter with a wink, giving your own ass a playful slap. 

A low grunt escapes him, arousal thickening his voice as he grabs you, pinning you against the wall, his lips tracing a searing path down your neck. You moan softly, your body arching toward him, your pussy throbbing with need.

When the elevator doors slide open, he pulls you out, his grip firm as he leads you to your apartment door. He fumbles briefly with the key, urgency in every motion, and the moment the door clicks shut behind you, the world outside ceases to exist.

Shoes are discarded in a hurry, and in the blink of an eye, Yoongi has you in the kitchen, lifting you effortlessly onto the counter. He spreads your legs, his eyes dark and hungry as he takes in the sight of you. Already, you’re so wet, aching for him, and you can see the primal desire mirrored in his gaze. 

He kneels before you, lifting the hem of your dress with a mischievous glint in his eye. “There’s a wet patch on your panties, babe,” he murmurs, a chuckle rumbling from his chest as his gaze darkens with desire.

“Well, I want you badly,” you breathe, your legs parting in invitation, your body aching for his touch.

Without hesitation, he hooks his fingers into the delicate fabric of your panties and slides them down your legs, letting them pool on the floor. His lips find your slick pussy, his tongue a sinful instrument of pleasure as it dances over your folds. He laps at you with fervor, his nose grazing your sensitive clit as his tongue delves deeper, exploring every inch of you. You moan, the sound almost foreign to your own ears, lost as you are in the ecstasy he’s drawing from you. It doesn’t take long before you’re unraveling, your release shuddering through you as you come apart on his tongue.

He pulls back, his lips glistening with your essence, and he licks them slowly, savoring the taste of you. “You’re so hot,” he breathes, his voice thick with need.

You hum in response, wanting to tell him how irresistible he is, but before you can, he’s grabbing your hips, pulling you down from the counter and capturing your lips in a searing kiss. “I want to fuck you so bad,” he growls against your mouth, his fingers digging into your flesh possessively. “I want to fill you up, to lose myself in your pussy.”

When you pull away, his eyes are wild, pupils blown wide with lust. “I want to take care of you first,” you whisper, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “I want to suck you off.”

“You don’t have to. I just need to be inside you,” he argues, his hands already unzipping his pants, freeing his hard, aching cock.

“No,” you insist, your voice soft but firm. “It’s your birthday, and I want to give you everything you desire.” You help him discard his pants and boxers, and as soon as he’s free of the fabric, you wrap your hand around his dick, feeling him twitch in your grasp. He groans, a needy sound that makes your own desire flare even hotter.

“I want you to fuck my mouth,” you say, your voice sultry and full of intent. You drop to your knees before him, looking up with wide, pleading eyes. “Please.”

He hesitates, but only for a moment. You always have this power over him, making him bend to your will with just a word, a look. So when you take him into your warm, wet mouth, he sees stars. You hold his gaze, your eyes locked on his as you slowly, sensually, begin to pleasure him. He thinks you look like a vixen, so full of confidence and allure, and sometimes he can’t quite believe that you’re his, that you belong to him in every way.

For a while, he lets you lead, your lips and tongue working him over with skillful precision. But soon, his need for control takes over, his hands tangling in your hair as he starts to guide your movements, thrusting gently at first, then deeper, harder. He knows you can take it, even when your eyes flutter closed and your breath hitches. He knows you love it as much as he does. The sounds you make, the soft, wet noises of your mouth on him, fill the kitchen, and he moans your name, the pleasure almost overwhelming.

He can feel himself getting close, that familiar tightening in his core, and it takes everything in him to pull back, to stop before he loses himself entirely. When he does, a string of saliva still connects you, a testament to the raw, unfiltered passion between you.

“Was it too much?” he asks, his voice rough with desire, his thumb brushing against your flushed cheek.

You shake your head, wiping the drool from your lips. “No,” you assure him, your voice breathless but steady. “If it was, I would have said something.”

“Good,” he rasps, pulling you to your feet, his lips finding yours in a heated kiss. “Because now I need to fuck you. On the table.”

You pull back just enough to meet his eyes, a playful glint in your gaze. “The dining table?”

He grins, wicked and full of promise. “Yes, the dining table.”

He nods, and you do as he says, feeling his presence close behind you, a silent promise of what’s to come. The air thickens with anticipation as you remain in your dress, a symbol of your desire lingering between the layers of fabric. When he turns you around to face the table and gently presses you down onto its cool surface, you know exactly what he wants, and the thought alone sends a shiver down your spine. God, you love it when he takes you from behind.

He hikes up your dress, exposing you to the cool air, and his hands find your ass, groping and squeezing with a possessive reverence. “So pretty,” he murmurs, voice low and rough with need.

You feel the heat of his cock teasing against your entrance, the anticipation almost unbearable. His hands spread your cheeks, and then you feel the head of his cock pressing into your slick pussy. Slowly, he pushes in, the stretch more intense in this position, but you welcome it, your body humming with pleasure as he fills you completely.

He grunts, a deep, primal sound that reverberates through you as he bottoms out, his cock buried to the hilt inside you. “Yoongi—please, move,” you pant, your hands gripping the edge of the table, seeking leverage as he begins to thrust into you.

“Fuck,” you moan, your voice breaking as he picks up the pace, his hips slamming into yours with a rhythm that feels both punishing and divine.

His hands roam over your backside, caressing, gripping, pulling you closer with every thrust. “Ah, fuck. You always feel so fucking good around me,” he groans, his voice dripping with raw desire as he speaks your name.

“I love having your cock in me. Fuck me faster, please,” you plead, your voice breathless, every nerve in your body alight with want.

The table shifts beneath you, scraping against the floor with each thrust, but the sound is lost in the symphony of your pleasure. Soon, this place won’t be yours to worry about, but right now, it’s all that grounds you as he drives into you, hitting that perfect spot inside that makes your vision blur with bliss.

“Fuck! Right there!” you scream, your mind emptying of everything but him, your husband, the man you love so fiercely.

“So fucking tight,” he moans, his fingers digging into your hips with a grip that promises to leave marks, tangible reminders of this moment.

“Yoon—, I’m gonna come,” you gasp, your breath ragged, sweat beading on your forehead as the heat between you builds to a crescendo.

He rams into you harder, just like you wanted, and you shatter around him, your orgasm ripping through you with a force that leaves you trembling, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. Your vision goes white, stars bursting behind your eyelids as your body sags against the table, barely able to support itself.

“Fuck,” he curses, and then his hand comes down on your ass, the sharp sound of the slap echoing in the room. You clench around him reflexively, another wave of pleasure crashing over you.

“Fuck,” he curses again, another slap, another burst of sensation, and you cry out, your body quivering under his relentless assault.

“Yoongi!” you scream, teetering on the edge of another climax, “I think—”

But the words are stolen from you as he continues to pound into you, the force of his thrusts driving the breath from your lungs, leaving you gasping, lost in a sea of sensation.

“Fucking shit. I’m so close,” he pants, his hand soothing over your ass before delivering another stinging slap, and your second orgasm melds into a third, your body convulsing with the intensity of it. You cry out in pleasure, your voice raw as your world narrows to the feel of him inside you, the only anchor in the storm of your release.

His thrusts grow erratic, less controlled, until finally, he stills, his cock buried deep as he spills into you, the warmth of his release filling you up. A sigh escapes your lips, your body utterly spent, your mind adrift in the aftermath.

He collapses over you, his weight a comforting pressure as he keeps himself inside you, his hands caressing your body with gentle affection. “You’re so pretty,” he whispers against your ear, pressing soft kisses to your skin. “I love you so much.”

You chuckle softly, the warmth of your love for him blooming in your chest. “You aren’t too bad yourself,” you tease, feeling his softened cock slide out of you as you turn to face him. “And I love you so much too.”

He smiles, tender and full of adoration, before capturing your lips in a kiss that speaks of gratitude and deep, unwavering love. “Thank you for this lovely birthday,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your lips.

You smile back, letting him take your hand and lead you to the bathroom, where he gently cleans you up, his touch as tender as his heart. Later, you fall asleep nestled in his arms, the world outside forgotten, lost in the cocoon of your shared warmth.

You stare at the test in your trembling hands, the seconds ticking away with agonizing slowness. Three minutes—those eternal, cursed minutes—dragging you back to that moment in the forest when the thought of pregnancy filled you with dread. But now, everything is different. Now you want it, crave it with every fiber of your being, yet fear still lingers like a shadow in your heart, whispering what-ifs.

Your phone vibrates, breaking the silence, signaling that the time is up. You take a deep breath, steel yourself, and then you look. 

Two lines. 

Your heart skips a beat, and you blink, hardly believing it. 

Two lines.

You rush to show Yoongi, his eyes lighting up with pure joy as he sees the result. He’s elated, grinning like a child, and his happiness is contagious. You’re happy too, truly, but beneath the surface, that familiar fear curls, a silent specter reminding you of the past, of the heartbreak you’ve been through before. What if it happens again?

But the weeks pass, and you pack your life into boxes, preparing for the move as summer blooms. Now, four months pregnant, you find yourself with Yoongi wrapped around your little finger. He’s doting, tender, doing everything for you as if you were made of glass—cooking your meals, helping you dress, even braiding your hair with surprising care. He indulges your every craving, runs to the store for cake and candy at odd hours, holds your hair when the nausea takes over. His protectiveness borders on overbearing, but you can’t bring yourself to mind. It’s endearing, really, and you feel a warmth in your chest that’s as sweet as the candy he brings you.

On moving day, Yoongi insists you don’t lift a finger, so you supervise, directing your friends on where to place each box in your new home. It still feels surreal—this beautiful house is yours, truly yours. You rest your hand on your growing belly, not yet feeling the strong kicks you’re longing for, though you’ve sensed some faint fluttering. Perhaps it’s just gas, but still, the anticipation is almost unbearable.

After a day of grocery shopping, stocking the fridge and freezer with essentials, you find yourself craving ice cream late at night—the one with Oreo bits swirled through it. The craving grips you suddenly, fiercely, and you know there’s no ignoring it. You need that ice cream.

“Yoongi?” you call out, drawing his name in that sweet, almost sing-song voice he knows all too well.

He chuckles, already predicting your request from the way you’ve drawn out his name. Your cravings have become a nightly ritual, but he doesn’t mind. In fact, he loves it—loves you more than words can express.

“Yeah?” he answers, laughter in his voice, as you hesitate, almost shy to ask for something else after all the shopping you did today.

“I’m craving ice cream…” you murmur, unsure how he’ll react, knowing full well you’d already stocked the freezer just hours ago.

He sighs, but it’s a soft, amused sound. “The one with Oreo bits, right?”

Your eyes fill with love and gratitude, tears pricking at the corners. “Thank you!” you whisper, your heart swelling as he’s already up, grabbing his keys without a second thought.

You watch him go, overwhelmed with love for this man who would move mountains just to see you smile. When he returns, ice cream in hand, you greet him with a kiss, diving into the tub with abandon. Fifteen minutes later, the tub is empty, and you glance at him with a sheepish smile, wondering if he’ll have to make another trip. That’s when he decides to always buy extra, stashing it away in the freezer, ready for your next craving.

He’s your snack patrol, your guardian of midnight desires, and he’ll do whatever it takes to keep you happy, to keep that radiant smile on your face. After all, you’re carrying his tiny miracle inside you, and for him, indulging your every whim is the least he can do.

One evening, you stumble through the door after a long, grueling day at work, exhaustion clinging to you like a heavy shroud. All you want is to collapse into the soft embrace of your bed, to let the day melt away into dreams. But hunger gnaws at you, demanding attention, so you drag yourself to the kitchen, hoping to find Yoongi bustling around, preparing dinner as usual. Yet, the air is absent of the familiar, comforting aromas that typically greet you, and instead, you find Yoongi lounging on the couch, engrossed in a book.

“Didn’t you make dinner?” you snap, frustration bubbling up before you can contain it, the weariness in your bones making your temper short.

He glances up, confused, his lips parting to speak, but you cut him off, the anger spilling over. 

“You dick! You know I expect you to make dinner when I get home late,” you huff, the irritation morphing into something sharper, more biting. But before the anger can fully take root, it unravels into sobs, the tears pouring out uncontrollably, as if your exhaustion has found a new outlet. You’re crying so hard that you scare yourself, and Yoongi, too, who tosses his book aside and rushes to your side, wrapping you in his arms, his touch gentle and soothing.

“There’s leftovers, remember?” he whispers softly, his hand rubbing comforting circles on your back, his voice steady and calm, grounding you in the moment. 

And just like that, clarity washes over you. He’s right. Of course, he’s right. The realization of your misplaced anger makes you feel foolish, small. Lately, you’ve been snapping at him over the smallest things, calling him names in moments of frustration, but he always meets your outbursts with a patient smile, never holding your forgetfulness or emotional swings against you. He’s a gem, a steady rock in the midst of your storm.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his lips, and he returns it with such tenderness that you know, deep down, everything is going to be okay.

The months in your new home pass like pages turning in a cherished book, each one filled with milestones and memories. You’ve hosted a housewarming, celebrated your baby shower, and now, winter has settled in once more, December’s chill creeping through the air. Maternity leave is just around the corner, and you can’t wait to have the time to focus entirely on Yoongi and the tiny miracle growing inside you.

“I’m so fucking tired, Yoon,” you sigh, sinking into a chair, every breath feeling like an effort, exhaustion etched into every part of you.

“It’s okay, take a break. I’ll finish up the painting. Why don’t you go change clothes?” he suggests with a reassuring smile, but the frustration within you bubbles up again, spilling over before you can stop it.

“I look so ugly,” you cry, tears welling up as you take in your reflection, emotions surging in a wave. “I’m so fat, and my stomach feels like it’s dragging me down. I’m swollen everywhere, and I just look so ugly.” Your voice breaks, the tears falling freely, and Yoongi drops his paintbrush immediately, rushing to comfort you.

“You’re not ugly, babe,” he says softly, wiping away your tears with his paint-stained fingers, his eyes full of love and sincerity. “Those extra pounds just make you even sexier,” he adds with a playful smile, kissing the tip of your nose. “Please don’t speak ill of your body. I love you, and I love everything about your body.”

You sniffle, his words washing over you like a balm, soothing the insecurities that have taken root in your mind. You know he’s right, and you decide to believe him, because why else would he stick around through all your emotional ups and downs? “Thank you, Yoon. I love everything about you too.”

The nursery is ready, painted in a soft shade of lilac, filled with carefully chosen furniture. You’ve both decided that your baby girl will sleep in your room at first, so the nursery remains more symbolic than functional for now. But it’s been a labor of love, preparing for this new chapter in your lives.

As you gaze out the window, watching the snow pile up on the street, a sense of quiet anticipation fills you. Soon, so very soon, you’ll meet your miracle baby, and the thought sends a warmth spreading through you, cutting through the cold of the winter night.

Taglist: @idkjustlovingbts @constancelayon @wobblewobble822 @ktownshizzle @moonchild1 @ultimatefangirl0 @baechugff @jimintaemin @parapiop7 @fckkntired @iluvfndms @citypop-princess @tarahardcore @bergandysam @massivelyfullenthusiast @tatyhend @gimeow

*if this fucking taglist doesn't work... I don't know what to do with myself. Hopefully you'll find it even though tumblr will probably be a bitch and not let it work...

Author’s note(2): I really hope you liked it! I hope it wasn’t too angsty 🥹 This was largely inspired by the song ‘Pregnant’ by Phlake. You should really give it a listen, it’s very explicit and cute, lol 😝 Please let me know what you think in a reblog, comment or ask. And if you’ve ever had a miscarriage— here’s an extra hug for you 🫂

[loupy-mongoose]

So, I made some impulse purchases recently, including this lovely little gal.

Hai Luna~

When I ordered her, it started a bit of a Gardevoir kick in me. So I went and did some brainstorming about Jamie's Gardie pal, Clover.

This did get very long, but there's a lot of art that I really like! :3 Plus I borrowed a certain someone from @mewtwoandme~

Growing up I always drew the green headpiece as a bony structure with maybe green skin on it, like deer antlers. (Except it doesn't shed lol)

But in my efforts to redecide what it actually is to me, I went to Bulbapedia, and that called it hair. So I tried out hair as well, and I kinda like that better...

I love my deranged Gardie. :>

(Leaning into "Mischievous Fairy/Pixie" energy)

I wanted to draw some Gwen (M&M's Gardevoir), as her and Clover's characters are different in a lot of ways, and I thought it would be fun to draw them together. Turns out Gwen dwarfs my girls, and I adore that in every way. XD

I also came to realize that Jamie would admire Gwen--She doesn't wish change on Clover in the slightest, but she does like the grace that more conventional Gardevoirs possess. Plus she'd be astounded by her sheer size.

For the fun of it, I tried drawing them both in each of our styles. (Or more like "Features" than "style")

I did not like drawing Gardevoir in her style. All the respect and love to M&M, but it felt SO wrong to me personally. XD

Annnnd... I kinda accidentally thought of a different way to take their designs...

And then I tried to figure out the logistics of giving Gardvoir a tail. I kinda like the idea of there being one that blends into the Skirt, splitting and running down the length of the skirt ends.

A little character lore; Clover removed her skirt on purpose.

Growing up, I always had in mind that the skirt was skin, maybe acting as thermoregulation, or something like that. I don't think I ever decided whether they can feel through their skirts or not, but if I want it to be more angsty, then yes, they can feel.

Warning for general and self-inflicted injury in this paragraph. As a kid I figured Clover cut it off to prevent it from getting caught or grabbed. But now, with the developing idea of there being a tail involved, I got another idea with even more angst. I'm thinking possibly Clover had a tail bone broken, and maybe it healed wrong, causing her pain so she ripped off the whole skirt.

Okay, injury warning is over.

And now a little silly that's not exactly canon, but close enough. XD

Y'all can thank @puzzled-zebra for this, as she brought up the idea during a chat. It was too good to pass up. XD

And now I wish to finish with a nostalgia ramble, because Clover is very precious to me, along with Jamie.

I started a playthrough of Soul Silver many, many years ago--even before the playthrough that would become Jamie's trainer journey over ten years ago. It was a solo run, with a Ralts egg sent in to be my only companion. (I kept the rules soft, though, as I remember needing help from other Pokemon to beat Bugsy. XD) My memories of that playthough are faded, but I remember that Clover alone beat the Champion at level 64-65. Sometime within the next few years, she was my first ever Pokemon to reach level 100 without the use of Rare Candy or experience cheats. That playthough and whatever happened in it has no bearing on Clover's story, but it's what gave birth to her as a character, and I hold that very dear.

Her nature is "Hardy, Likes to Fight", and I'm really proud of little me for taking that in the direction she took it. XD

Anyway, that's my super long love-dump of my beloved gremlin fairy. Thanks to everyone who made it all the way, I know it got pretty long. ^^

[world-of-aus]

The Arrangement - Chapter 2

Pairing: Mobboss!Bucky x Reader

Chapter Warnings: Feels, Angsty Dialogue.

Author's Note: Any and all writing errors are my own. Chapter 2 is here and I hope it is portraying enough story for you all! I haven't done a series in a hot minute so I am trying to get my bearings and make this content enjoyable for all you that are excited for this. I hope this chapter is good for you all. As always Happy Readings.

“Sign here.” 

You look at the open spot next to Bucky’s name, his signature already signed and sealed. Flashes of your sister appear in your mind as you reach a shaky hand towards the awaiting pen. 

Were you really going to do this, could you stoop to your sisters level and just take what was right in front of you? 

Your signature glides across the paper signed and sealed, you’d blame it on the stars. 

There’s sincerity in Winnies eyes as she looks at the two of you, “it’s done, welcome to the family sweetheart, we’ll celebrate the two of you properly at the reception in a week’s time.” 

You manage to pull a smile on, albeit shaky as the room congratulates the two of you, his hand still resting on your lower back. Your dad must notice the uneasiness in your eyes, “it really was a pleasure to do business with you as always and we look forward to bringing two families together the day of the wedding,” he directs to the Barnes family, “y/n sweetheart are you ready to go,” he questions his eyes on you now “surely your mom is going stir crazy waiting for us to get back.” 

You snap out of your revere eyes zoning in on your father, your lips part to speak but Bucky beats you to it, “actually Mr. Y/l/n if it’s alright with you I’d like to take y/n out to lunch,” he pulls you closer into his side, “she and I have some catching up to do.” 

You did? 

You did. 

You can feel his eyes on you as you scan the menu, a menu you don’t even need to look over – you always managed to get the same thing every time you came here though it had been some time since the two of you had been here together. You can vividly remember when this was your place, it was quickly replaced by a newer, not so hole in the wall Diner that had become their place. 

It had been replaced just as quickly as you had. 

“Is this what’s become of us?” You bring the menu down slightly to meet his stormy cerulean eyes, brow raised in question he continues, “we’ve become strangers to one another.”  

You bring the menu down placing it upon the table, hands crossing above it, “Strangers,” you question “is that what you think we are? I was certain we were more.” 

“It’s what we’ve become. I don’t see you anymore, we don’t hang out, you’re not around, I feel like I barely know who you are, you’ve become a shell of my best friend.”  

And whose fault is that? 

Anger simmers in your chest as you look at the man before you, “you must forgive me,” you grit, “but like you, I have a job to do, I promised my father I’d live up to the family name just as you promised your father, and up until yesterday I’ve been helping my sister plan your wedding, every last detail, I’ve barely had time for myself so please give me some grace, there’s only so much of myself I can give.” 

Only so much hurt I can take. 

You catch the subtle shake of his head, “what happened to us?” 

My sister. 

“We grew up James.”  

You catch the tick in his jaw, “oh so it’s James now? I’m no longer Bucky, Buck, Bee.” 

You sigh shaking your head, “Bucky please.” 

“No y/n,  what happened to us, you can’t tell me nothing has changed its -” 

“You chose her,” you almost yell, “you chose my sister, I was all but discarded by you and your family without another thought the night you decided to end our contract because and I quote ‘I can’t do that to your sister’. You scoff, but he could do it to you, “Rebecca was the only one who cared what happened to me after you made it abundantly clear that it was my sister you loved. I was embarrassed,” you continue, “I was hurt, I thought I had everything I could ever want only to have it all torn away.” You tilt your head to the sky willing away the tears, you would shed no more for the man before you. “I needed time, and even that I couldn’t get because I was planning YOUR wedding to MY sister, a wedding that should have been mine. So forgive me for skipping out on our visits, family dinners, Diner hangouts, I just couldn’t Bucky, I couldn’t because every time I was reminded of what no longer was mine.” 

You didn’t think it possible to ever get the man before you speechless but you had managed. Your waitress pops in then a cheery smile on her lips as she asks the two of you if you’re ready to order. You meet her eyes rattling off your usual, you look back at Bucky who still seems frozen, “I’ll have the same thing.” he manages. Before she can skip away you say, “can we get this to go please.” 

“Of course doll, I’ll get it out in a jiffy, have your ticket out front!” 

You move to exit the side of the booth you took, the weight of what you got off your chest crushing you once more. Bucky’s reaching for you, there’s a pleading look in his eyes, “please don’t go, sit down, talk to me.” 

You shake your head, softly removing the hold he has on you, “I’ve said enough for one evening Bucky, I need time, please.” 

And he lets you go, just like he let you go that night, you don’t know what hurts more. 

He’s sat at his father’s old desk, the one that has become his since his old man passed. His eyes are trained on a single contract the one you thought had been discarded, his name and your name signed and sealed at the bottom, this one was much older though years in the making like the two of you. He remembers the night your parents took the two of you aside, sat you down and had the conversation with you.  

He thinks how the two of you then hadn’t hesitated to sign your names. He thought it was just two best friends doing a job, stepping up to the plate for their family.  

Had you really loved him that long? 

How could he have not seen it. 

There’s a soft knock on the office door, his mother enters slowly a tired smile on her lips. “My boy, what are you still doing up, it’s late.” 

“How long?” 

Winnifred looks at her son in question, “how long what James?” 

“How long did she love me for?” 

His mother lets out a quiet noise as she moves over to her son, her arm landing on his shoulder rubbing his clothed skin. “I think she’s loved you for longer than she even knows, there’s always been an adoration in her eyes for you, she’d have done just about anything for you.” 

Bucky shakes his head, “Why didn’t I see it, why couldn’t I tell?” 

Winnie laughs now, hand squeezing “oh my boy, you Barnes men are always a little slow.” He laughs but there’s no actual amusement behind it, “you let me discard this contract like nothing that night, why? Why didn’t you stop me?” 

His mother sighs, “we all saw how encompassed you had become with her sister, and while it gradually occurred, we all saw it, the one who saw it most was y/n. Before you came to us yourself, she had come to me first, she held me to a promise that should you ask for the contract to be reconsidered to please do so.” She smiles sadly, “she just wanted you to be happy, even if it wasn’t with her, but I know that night, she was hoping it would be.” 

“Why,” he breathes, “why didn’t you stop me?” 

“We believed this is what you wanted son.” 

He’s shaking his head more vigorously now, “I thought all this time she didn’t feel the same, I never saw the signs, I never -” he's like a lost boy meeting his mother's eyes for the first time, “what do I do ma?” 

“You do what you should have done then, choose her.” 

The Arrangement Taglist: Kindly reminder if at any point you'd like your tag removed please message me, Thanks!

@learisa @greatenthusiasttidalwave @barnesxstan @calwitch @h0nestly-though @wintrsoldrluvr @esposadomd @roofwitty779 @pattiemac1 @sebastians-love @scott-loki-barnes @mrsnikstan @metanoiablxxm @lostyx @missvelvetsstuff @casa-boiardi @shoutingcardinal @tiedyedghoulette @littleeuphoriaelf @polireader

@armystay89 @cjand10 @railmesebstan @agardenflower25 @brckenmemories

[zepskies]

What Does "Supporting Writers" Mean? ✍️

Apparently it's Fanfic Writer Appreciation Day! To all my fellow writers, I truly appreciate you for bringing me joy, making me smile on rough days, and giving me my weekly/daily dose of escapism and warm fuzzies. (Shoutouts to you personally below.) 💓💓

But what does it mean "practically" to appreciate your favorite writers, especially on Tumblr?

For example, I know some fanfic authors are starting to block "serial likers": people who'll go through someone's entire masterlist and hit the "like" button on 20-something stories without commenting or basic reblogging.

While I think blocking them is extreme, I understand the authors' frustrations. I've actually been asked if I'll ever leave Tumblr, since many of them have dropped off over the past few months, or even the past few years.

I'm still here for two very important reasons:

I love to write about my favorite characters. I write primarily because I love it, not just for the kudos.

I'm friggin' blessed to have a lot of friends and lovely readers on here and Ao3 who support me immensely on my writing and on this blog in general. I love and appreciate each and every one of you! Which is why I do my best to reply to your comments and reblogs. 💖💖

Of course, there are many reasons why a writer might take a break or stop writing entirely, but one of those reasons is also why the #supportwriters tag exists...

And why you'll see us include banners like this on our posts:

(Credits: cafekitsune, me, inklore)

That being said, here's my own rule of thumb on how I try to support my fellow writers when I read something I enjoy:

If I "liked" something, it means I had the time to read a story all the way through and I enjoyed it! (Or I'm bookmarking it for later in the day lol)

If I have the time to read it, I have the time to leave a comment on what I liked the most about it.

If I have the time to write out a comment (anywhere from a few seconds to a few minutes), I typically put that comment in a reblog -- maybe even add a gif or two for ✨razzle dazzle.✨ That way I can share it with the rest of my followers, so they can see it and hopefully enjoy it too...

Why? Because Tumblr isn't TikTok or IG. Reblogging is the best way to help a post gain traction on Tumblr. The algorithm doesn't care much about likes.

But on a more human level, supporting writers is just the basic thing of -- if you enjoyed something you read (that a writer shared for free), just let them know what you liked about it.

Remember that there's a person behind the content you enjoy. They might have been working on that story for weeks or months, or even years before they got the courage to post it.

They might really be putting themselves out there, writing about a topic or subject matter that they're not sure people will even like or engage with.

Maybe they're exploring something new, like a character or trope they've never written before.

Maybe they're expressing part of themselves that they haven't even told another living soul.

Maybe they just wanted to write something fun and smutty or angsty or fluffy and want to share the escapism with you.

Whether they've been writing for years or are just starting out, any and all is valid.

For me, as a writer and a reader, supporting my fellow writers often means supporting my friends. And 9 times out of 10, the way we became friends was by leaving feedback on their work and asking them questions, or responding to their awesome feedback on mine.

If you want a little jumpstart on how to leave feedback, whether encouraging or constructive, here's an awesome post about it (not mine).

Shoutout to some of my favorite writers 💞:

(In no particular order)

@waynes-multiverse @luci-in-trenchcoats @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @thatonewriter15 @rizlowwritessortof

@waywardxwords @tofics @kaleldobrev @deanbrainrotwritings @deanwritings

@jawritter @deanwinchesterswitch @justagirlinafandomworld @ravengirl94 @waywardxwords

@spnbabe67 @deanwanddamons @ejlovespie @kittenofdoomage @venus-haze

@talltalesandbedtimestories @sam-is-my-safe-word @jacklesbrainworms @artyandink @princessmisery666 (I just starting reading your stories, but I'm continuing with Samnesia soon!) -- and I'm sure many more! 💋

[rlimagi]

I Don’t Wanna Be Your Friend

Pairing: Princess Red x reader

Requested?: Nope

Genre: kinda angsty but also not really

Warnings: death threats, mention of violence…

You hated her from the moment your eyes locked with hers. A growing sensation heated up in your heart as you glared at Red who did the same twice as hard.

While there might be stories where two princesses falls for each other the first time they locked eyes, this was not one of them.

You and Red had been Enemies since the first day of Auradon Prep. You hated everything about her and she felt the same.

There weren’t days where you both weren’t at each other’s throats. Your mutual friend, Chloe was always the peace keeper and the reason one of you haven’t ended up in the ER yet.

“Stop breathing so loud.” Red huffed as she turned her whole body around to look at you. It was slightly funny to see as her hair was all messed up, thanks to you.

The two of you were 5 rows apart, fairy god mother made it that way so that a fight will be less likely to happen seeing as you were both in detention for trying to kill each other.

“Stop breathing so loud.” You mimicked the princess making her scowl at you. “How about you stop breathing all together?”

Red was about to jump out of her chair to launch at you but sat back down when fairy god mother told her to.

“Girls, behave or you’ll have to stay for another few hours.” The woman said, narrowing her eyes at Red and then to you before going back to her knitting.

Red grumbled, her glare grew even deeper. A cocky smile grew on your lips while you laid back against your chair. Feeling content watching Red grew angrier.

“I.will.end.you.” Red mouthed slowly, using her thumb as a pretend knife before pretending to slit her own throat.

“Try.me.” You mouthed back before sending her a teasing wink, annoying the hell out of Red who rolled her eyes and sat back properly.

The rest of detention went by dreadfully slow. You almost melted into the chair from how long you had to sit there.

“Alright girls, you’re both free to go but anymore trouble and you just might stay overnight!” Fairy god mother said sternly before sending them off.

“Good bye, fairy god mother! Same time tomorrow?” You grinned at the older woman jokingly. The woman tried to look stern but broke into a small smile before shaking her head as she pushed you and Red out of the room.

“Red.” You said as the two of you stand face to face in the empty corridor.

“Yn.” Red replied with the same level of hostility but before you both could engage with each other further, Chloe appeared out of nowhere and grabbed you both by the arms.

“At this point I think you both are addicted to each other.” Chloe muttered, both her arms locked with yours and Red’s.

“No way!” You both exclaimed at the same time before escaping from Chloe’s hold.

Chloe crossed her arms and looked at you then at Red before continuing on. “Soulmates would be the perfect word to describe your relationship. You both are in love with each other but just doesn’t know it yet.”

You and Red both gasped in offense.

“Ugh, I’d rather trade my soul away.” You rolled your eyes, looking disgusted at the idea.

“I’d rather not have a soul at all!” Red frowned as she shook her head in disagreement.

“Sure, sure, sure.” Chloe mumbled looking between the two of you before dragging you both by the wrists to the dormitory.

A few days passed since Chloe raised up the soulmates topic and the both of you tried your hardest to avoid each other at all costs. One time Red nearly jumped out of the window because you were about to head into the same room.

Everyone thought it was weird especially since usually you two were at each other’s neck 24/7 but now you can’t even look at each other’s eyes for a second.

The violence rate at Auradon Prep was lowered by 100% and fairy god mother was the happiest about it. Going as far as giving you heart lollipops for your good behavior.

Though you loved candy, you didn’t want to eat them since it reminded you of Red, she loved those. You’ve never seen her go a day without sucking on one and you were pretty sure she received some from her too.

It was more like a punishment to you and a reward for her.

Red stared at the chocolate shaped stars that sat on her desk. Fairy god mother had given her one every time she saw her and it was driving her a tiny bit insane because it reminded her of you.

You loved them, addicted even.

Red couldn’t stop thinking of you, maybe Chloe was right.

She was addicted.

[moonlightpetalz6]

Kinktober Day 10

Character: Original Sukuna x Witch Reader 

Reader: Fem Reader!

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, smut, harsh language, unprotected sex, exhibitionism, oral (fem receiving), double dicks, double penetration, blood, violence

Wc: 2,849

A/n: I kind of referenced this fic to one of my earlier works between Sukuna and Witch Reader! (It's sad and angsty but I just love the story I have behind the two so I couldn't help myself! Just look for Sukuna's part if interested! (Not required of course!) This one is not edited or proofread so I do apologize for all the mistakes. I also feel like I got a little lost while writing this one, so I do apologize. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! I tried my best to get all the warnings written above! I apologize if I miss anything!

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Making his way through the dark woods, Sukuna lets out a few breaths, his body taking him down the path he had come to engrave deep inside his mind. "Damn pathetic witch…living so far out." He growls to himself. Your mere existence was annoying, but at the same time, your face always seemed to calm his rageful soul. After what felt like a century of walking, his eyes take in the faint glow of the lantern you always kept hanging from your porch. He grunts, not bothering to knock as he pushes the door open only to be greeted by pure silence. The curse narrows his eyes as he searches the small hut noticing no signs of life. “Oi! Damn witch of the woods!” He shouts allowing a moment for you to respond but there is nothing. He grits his teeth, his mind running through all the possible things that could have happened to you. “The village.” He spits, recalling how you had once mentioned being hated and feared by a village a few miles away. Thinking that one day they would come for you. Sukuna quickly rushes out of the hut, his feet taking him at max speed towards the village, his bloodlust filling the air.

As he dashes through the woods one of his eyes catches a glimpse of a figure standing out in the lake causing him to halt. He approaches the tree line with all four eyes taking in the figure under the moonlight. There you stood, body fully exposed as you bathed under the moon, completely defenseless as you looked up at the sky, eyes shining with the stars. Sukuna watches his mind and nerves going crazy with multiple emotions. Fear, anger, relief, lust each one clashing with the other as he tried to push it all aside. “Do you seeeee her?” An eerie voice whispers from a few trees down getting his attention. There hovered some low-level curses, their eyes peering at your oblivious self their actions irritating Sukuna. “She’s known to be one of the prettiest creatures to grace these woods~” Another curse giggled, leaning closer to get a better look at your exposed breasts.

“Do you think we can touch-” It falls silent as one of the curses falls to the ground, head cut clean off. The other curses jump quickly looking behind them to see the king of curses hold a severed head in his hands, eyes cold as he smirks down at the pathetic creatures before him. “Just by looking at her you die.” Was all he needed to say before blood splattered everywhere covering his body in the filthy red liquid. He growls while examining his body with disgust before his ears ring at the sound of your voice. “Who’s there?” Though you pose it as a question your tone is stern and demanding causing the king of curses to smirk an idea popping into his head. Carefully he emerges from the tree line still drenched in blood as he lets out a deep sigh while one hand scratches the back of his head.

“Calm down damn witch.” His eyes trail back to you watching as your defensive form relaxes at the sight of him, this small action causing the bloodthirsty killer's heart to waver. Though you had relaxed you soon remembered that you were bathing under the moon completely exposed to the man in front of you causing a deep red to dust your cheeks as you tried to duck under. The sight is amusing as Sukuna slowly strips himself of what little clothing he already wore, his body slowly entering the cold water of the night. “I-I’ll be out soon Sukuna-san! You can just go back to the hut!” You protested while swimming further away, your entire body flushed at the quick glimpse you had gotten of his naked form. You hear him scoff as he moves closer to you only stopping a few inches away as he peers down at you with dark eyes.

“You weren’t there…” He mumbles, reaching out to pull you against his chest; you flinch at the sudden contact, your usual calm demeanor gone. He smirks at this, finally being able to see a new side of the most powerful witch of the woods as he rests his chin on your head. “I almost went to kill that village.” He confesses one of his hands carefully sliding down your right arm to extend it out as he examines the black tattoos that covered your skin similar to his own thanks to that soulmate spell you had performed almost three months ago. You frown at his words not wanting him to murder innocent lives because of some witch. “Sukuna-san I only went to bathe under the moonlight! I didn’t even know you would be coming here at this time of the night!” You scold turning your head up to look at the curse who was labeled as your soulmate. He hums, taking a piece of your hair between two of his fingers gently playing with it as he recalls the curses, he had just slaughtered a moment ago.

“Do I need to inform you when I will arrive? Tch, who do you think you’re talking to?” He growls dipping his face into the crook of your neck to leave a possessive bite, his teeth piercing into your skin causing you to whine as you grip onto two of his biceps, your sharp nails dragging against his skin sending tingles through his body. “I told you before…I’m not afraid of curses.” You breathe listening to him lick at the fresh mark a satisfied hum leaving his lips as his eyes look up at your face brows furrowed. “Curses aren’t afraid of you either, you know. In fact, curses are drawn to you.” He growls pulling away his body becoming clearer under the light of the moon as you take in all the red still staining his skin the smell of iron finally processing in your nose.

“Are you hurt Sukuna-san?” You question quickly turning your body to face him, your bare breasts pressed against his chest as you examine him for any injuries getting ready to cast a healing spell if needed. He stops you, arms trapping your body as close as possible to his, a small gasp escaping you as you feel the two hard cocks pressing against your lower body. “I’m fine dammit! I just found a few pathetic curses trying to mess with something that belongs to only me.” He growls at the memory of their ugly faces, his blood boiling as he could only imagine what was running through their minds when they looked at your lustful body glistening so beautifully in the night. “It makes me so pissed…that you can just let others see you so exposed.” He grabs at your chin with one hand forcing you to look up at him, his eyes taking in your flushed appearance.

“I didn’t even know they were around…I guess I was just spacing out too much.” You confessed feeling foolish for having let your thoughts of the man in front of you cloud your senses making the area around you nonexistent in the moment. Sukuna hums watching the night sky reflect in your pure orbs so full of care and love for this world's filthy creatures. “Your skin is so divine in the moonlight.” He confesses cupping your cheek, his mind filling with only you, the one creature he was willing to love for all eternity. Your eyes widen as you look up at him, mouth agape when you see the soft look in his eyes. “Sukuna-san you didn’t drink any of the potions when you were inside, did you? Some of those are for customers who asked for aphrodisiacs!” You worry, not wanting to have the curse mad at you the next day for allowing him to drink something that would show any signs of weakness.

He frowns at your words, going to pinch your sides in annoyance. You let out a small cry from the stinging pain, a pout on your lips. “Tch. You think I would be so stupid to drink one of those disgusting vials?” He growls, finding your questions insulting for the king of curses. You try to shrink away into the water, finding his mood to be slightly unpleasant. “I was just wondering…big jerk.” Your words were quiet but not enough to go unnoticed by Sukuna who disliked that you were no longer pressed against him, his body not feeling whole. “If you wish for my anger to cease then will you be a good witch and please your king?” The question shocks you as you make eye contact orbs searching for any mischievous intent only to find pure lust greeting you. The two of you had made love only once when you had discovered you were soulmates, both your harbored feelings finally being released into three whole days of passion.

As if reading your mind Sukuna let out a small chuckle, his arms gripping at your waist as he pulled you close once again this time making you wrap your legs around his torso. “It's been so long since I’ve made love to you…tell me does your body still recall my touch?” He whispers lips pressing against your forehead. You hum, unable to think of any words as you feel your heart racing, your eyes trailing all over his chest taking in the man who had won over the most powerful witch. “Look at me Y/n.” He growls forcing your chin up the use of your name causing something inside you to tingle. “I’m going to make every creature in these woods know that you’re mine. So don’t you dare hold back filthy witch.” With those words his lips are roughly pressed to yours in a bruising kiss as he pries your mouth open with ease, his tongue almost plunging deep into your throat as he hungrily takes in your taste.

You whine, arms wrapping around his neck to deep kiss your body wanting more of him as if remembering those three days like it was something you experienced your whole life. A deep growl leaves Sukuna’s throat as one of his hands grips the back of your head taking in a fist full of your hair as you feel him smirk into the kiss. Your eyes shoot open in shock, a small cry being muffled by his lips when you feel a giant tongue lick up your pussy. Sukuna’s fist pulls at your hair separating the kiss, a long string of saliva still connecting the kiss as he lets out an amused laugh “Does it feel good darling? Having two tongues inside you?” He breathes as the mouth on his stomach hungrily lapped at your twitching pussy under the water. You let out a few pathetic moans. The feeling of his other mouth was different compared to his normal one.

Sukuna closely watched the way your face twisted into pleasure as your arms tightened around his neck, your hips starting to move in sync with the licks of his other tongue. He watches cocks twitching as the sight deeply arouses him. “What a filthy witch~” He teases his tongue sliding up your neck as he wraps a hand around your throat. You shiver body trembling from all the pleasure you were feeling. Sukuna presses his forehead to yours, his eyes taking in every detail of your face before pressing a passionate kiss to your lips. You whine, your body stiffening when the tongue from his stomach slithers deep inside your hole, eyes widening as your legs squeeze around him. Sukuna pulls away an evil grin on his face as he looks down at your fucked out expression.

“Filthy whore coming from another mouth!” He laughs a hand caressing your side as he tries to pull you away however your grip doesn’t loosen up as you try to recover from your orgasm pussy twitching. He sighs, pressing a few kisses to your cheek. “Strongest witch in the world but so pathetic from just getting your pussy tongue fucked.” His words earn a small smack from you followed by a tiny ‘shut up’ causing him to laugh. “If you want me to be satisfied you have to move away a bit darling. Otherwise, I can’t put it inside.” He whispers into your ear taking notice of your shivers. ‘The water must be getting cold.’ His thoughts are confirmed when you slowly float away from him, his eyes landing on your perked nipples and trembling lips. His two lower hands reach under the water to pump at his throbbing cocks wanting to feel inside your warm walls.

“Your pussy can handle both, right? Or has it been too long for the Witch of the Woods?” He hums remembering how long it took for your pussy to accept both his cocks the first time. Your body stiffens as you contemplate swimming away from the curse, your eyes trailing over to your clothes that lay by the shoreline. Taking notice of your gaze Sukuna frowns quickly gripping at your wrist to pull you back into his chest. “You dare think of running from me witch?” He growls two of his hands lifting you up, earning a small squeak from you as you try and hold onto his shoulders for support. “S-Sukuna-san I don’t think I can! It was so long ago!” You plead nails digging into his flesh.

“I want any pathetic creature lurking around to see my little witch get fucked by a true king!” He shouts while positioning both tips at your entrance, the feeling of them rubbing together causing a decent amount of precum to mix with the lake's water. With a free hand, he cups your cheek, eyes locking as his lips hover over your bruised and swollen ones. “The only king she will please and love.” He whispers before sloppily kissing you while thrusting deep into your pussy. You scream into the kiss tears falling down your cheeks as you feel your pussy being ruined as his cocks fill you. Sukuna groans into the kiss, his chest tightening as he feels your walls squeeze almost making him cum on the spot. He pulls away multiple curses leaving his lips as he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, his body shaking from how good you felt.

“So, fucking tight…such a good witch…my good girl.” He praises kissing anywhere he can while listening to the tiny whimpers you give in response. After a moment he starts to move growling at the feeling of his cocks rubbing together the friction driving him crazy as his movements start to pick up. His hold on your body is tight as he bounces you up and down like a doll, the sound of water splashing filling his ears. However, that was the only sound causing him to look up at you while gritting his teeth. “I fucking knew it.” He scoffs watching your mouth move but no sounds come out. This wasn’t the first time you had cast a spell to conceal your voice from him not wanting to disrupt any of the woodland creatures or anyone in the area.

“Tch, I won't let you stay quiet with your spells this time witch.” He spits venomously his nails digging into your hips as he pounds deep inside you the tips of his cocks entering your womb causing tears to fall from your eyes. Having learned some of your spells Sukuna is quick to rid you of your silence, your screams of pleasure music to his ears as they echo throughout the woods. “That’s right, witch! Scream my name let these woods hear who makes their precious witch so weak and pathetic!” Sukuna laughs maniacally, his thrusts merciless as he feels you cum for a second time. You toss your head back drool falling from your chin, eyes glossed over with lust as you stare up at the moon. “Sukuna! Sukuna! Give me more!” You scream your mind is too fucked out to care anymore. Sukuna laughs followed by a few grunts as he feels himself reaching his own release, the excitement from killing all those curses along with seeing how beautiful you looked under the moonlight bringing him so much pleasure.

“Kiss me Y/n…kiss your king…your soulmate.” He breathes heavily. His only desire is you. You look at him with a fucked-out expression that causes him to go over the edge, his lips smashing to yours as he fills your insides, your pussy clenching as you spray all over them. Sukuna’s arms hold you tight, his eyes trailing to the tree line, smirking against your lips as he watches the smaller curses cower away. Once he made sure the two of you were clean, he was careful while carrying you out of the lake making sure to grab your clothes along with his own. “Sukuna-san…you’re so mean.” You whisper half asleep from the tiring activity. Sukuna just scoffs rolling his eyes at your words.

“Shut up Y/n.”

[tidesreach]

i don’t know if anyone watched hollyoaks back in the day. as in back in 2006-2008 when john paul and craig had the most tumultuous incredible painful best friends to lovers relationship a soap had ever seen, quite frankly. but anyway, long story short. craig left for a while to figure his shit out, and in that time, john paul got a new boyfriend (kieron, a priest, long story). and well, most people didn't like him very much because you know. john paul and craig were it, the endgame of all endgames. a deep and often deranged love that simply did not compare to anything else. people joked about the priest dying (my best pal wrote a poem about it) but no one was invested in the idea, it really wasn't that serious. it's fiction, you know? a soap. a bit like a procedural drama. you know what i'm saying? anyway. the truly funny thing about all of this was the priest actually literally DID DIE (poisoned by john paul's long lost brother, another long story) and john paul got over it in like three days and he and craig got their sunset ending (literally left hollyoaks together, there was a billboard with a sunset on it in the background) that the fans had been campaigning for for a year. and that was that (rip kieron or whatever, he was literally just there to like, cause some angsty drama and die lmao). BECAUSE well, because they made more SENSE, they were it, unparalleled. (they didn't actually stay together BUT that was only because one of the actors wanted to return and the other didn't so alas. the INTENTION was that they were endgame). tl;dr it's not that serious, truly not even remotely. pretty sure they're not actually going to off tommy—i like to think tim's not at hollyoaks levels of soap drama, but hey—and none of us are actually invested in them doing so. be for real.

[dazzlerwriting]

call me & i’ll come

robert ‘bob’ floyd x singer!reader

Pictures are not mine, credit to pinterest!

3.5k words

summary: inspired by “Watermelon” by Jane + John Q Public. after bob joins a D&D campaign to make friends in San Diego, he gets talked into also joining the band that is formed within the group. Over time he and the lead singer slowly get closer and closer. What happens when they kiss, but don’t talk about what the kiss meant to them?

warnings: slight miscommunication! fluff fluff fluff. a bit angsty at one point. the end gets a bit heated so 18+ MDNI!!!! Reader uses she/her pronouns, but theres no other descriptors! petname “darlin” is used twice. use of y/n (i tried so hard not to lol) flashback is bold and italicized

authors note: first off, thank you @lewmagoo for posting about drummer rhett, which in turn helped inspire this story! & everyone posting their Atta Boy stuff was also a huge inspiration to this!! only my second fic and i wrote so much. i just kept going and didnt stop until it was finished! im so sorry lmao. but i hope you enjoy!! this is mostly from bob’s pov!

Bob Floyd has a secret. Well, two. The first one is that he plays in a band in his free time, specifically, he plays the drums. Anyone who may watch how Bob acts when he thinks no one is paying attention, they would see him drumming on his lap, on the desk, or on any free surface. But the Dagger Squad isn’t that astute when it comes to their fellow workers lives. Natasha knows but, there’s a certain trust to be had between a pilot & their WSO. So Bob told her, and while she was taken a bit aback that the quiet Bob Floyd played the drums in an actual band, she was supportive.

Now, the secret that not even Natasha knows, the one Bob would swear he would take to his grave, is that he has a crush on the lead singer in their band. It's not just a silly crush that would go away with time; no, this crush has stuck since he first met her at a community D&D meetup.

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Flashback

He saw a sign that read “New Dungeons and Dragons campaign, starting Wednesday! All leveled players welcomed!” on the board at the grocery store a week after being stationed in San Diego. He decided he needed a creative outlet after work and maybe to make friends that weren’t pilots. So he went, and that’s when he saw her. She was their Game Master and she was wearing a renaissance faire-esque outfit. From that first sighting, he was a goner. He would look at her theatrical storytelling during their sessions with a fondness that rivaled the way Orpheus looked at Euridyce. Quickly he would look away before she caught him, but if he had kept looking, he would have noticed her looking at him the same way.

Somewhere along the way, another member of the party, named Blake, noticed Bob drumming on his thigh when the game would die down for a bit. They suggested Bob joined their band, seeing as they were in desperate need of a new drummer, the last one leaving to hit it big time. He went on a whole spill about everything having to do with the band and Bob was apprehensive at first, performing was way out of his comfort zone. He wasn’t like Rooster, he didn’t think he had the proper stage presence to perform for a crowd, and he didn’t want to make a fool of himself.

But that’s when she walked over to the two, a smirk on her face as she looked at Blake and said “Blake… go easy on Bobby boy here. I’m sure he doesn’t need a whole infomercial on why he should join us.” She turned to Bob and put her hand on his arm, and for a second he was sure his brain short-circuited. Now with a soft smile on her face, she gently said “Bob we would love for you to join us, only if you’re comfortable. I know you could be called away at a second’s notice, but regardless it would be an honor to have you as our drummer.” He sat there for a second just taking her in, from the casual way she was dressed, to her kind demeanor. He realized at that moment he was royally fucked because he would do anything she asked. He looked her in the eyes and responded “I-I’ll do it,” stuttering a bit but getting through it. Her smile widened, her eyes lit up with what Bob thought could be adoration, and she jumped up a bit clapping, “Great! We rehearse every Saturday, usually, gigs are small just hangouts for friends or family! I’ll text you all the details.” He missed the warmth from her hand as soon as it was gone but her reaction was worth it. That night while Bob was getting ready to sleep, his phone lit up with a text.

Y/N: Thank you for agreeing to this Bob, it truly means a lot. I’m glad you decided to come to our session that first night :)

And after replying, he fell asleep with a grin on his face, not regretting his decision one bit.

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Now after a few months, Bob and the rest of the members have gotten close. They hang out outside of rehearsal and game sessions, and they’ve even been to Bob’s apartment for dinner. That’s when he told Natasha that he was in a band, and introduced them to her. They had a great night and Bob felt like he had found his group of people. The thought of leaving them for a mission, where the outcome was unknown, was scary, but the idea of having them all there to come back to, outweighed the formidable thoughts. Especially when he thought about the kind, charming, and beautiful singer who made it her mission to text Bob every day to ensure he was having a good day. Over the few months they had learned a lot about each other, she made sure to ask him the same questions he would ask her. Including dreams, they had as kids, favorite movies, biggest music inspirations, etc. He opened up to her about the constant teasing from the Dagger Squad, including the “Baby on Board” joke. And he learned she was the biggest nerd outside of D&D, texting him updates on the latest comic she had read, the newest Doctor Who update, and random fun facts about his favorite movies. With every text he received, Bob fell deeper and deeper into Cupid��s chokehold.

It all kinda got turned upside down when he and Phoenix suffered from a Bird Strike during training, and they had to eject. Early morning, after leaving the hospital and getting home, he texted the band group chat to let them know he would be missing both D&D and band practice. He was bombarded with questions regarding his well-being, and texts lending out sympathy to him. But y/n had been quiet, that is until he heard a knock on his door. When he opened it, he saw her standing there with several bags full of groceries and a shy smile on her face. “Hi,” she said softly “I’m sorry for the intrusion but I just wanted to make sure your recovery was a stress-free time, and well, I just, I’m sorry I can drop all this off and go if you want me to. I should’ve texted beforehand and I..” she was rambling now and he thought he couldn’t find her any more endearing than he did right now. He adjusted his glasses and stepped out of the doorway, “N-no come on in, you are welcome here at any time, you know that.” At that, her shoulders dropped a bit in relief and he could see her let out a breath he doubted she knew she was holding in. He led her to the kitchen and watched her get to work doing whatever she was here to do.

“Okay so I have the stuff to make baked potato soup, Alfredo, and I also brought peanuts, chips, Gatorade, and a bunch of other snacks for you.” She quickly got everything out of the bags, putting things in the right place, and Bob was hit with a daydream of this being a normal occurrence. A domestic life with her, both of them dancing around each other in the kitchen, making dinner while dancing to songs like “I’ll Be Seeing You” by Billie Holiday. He was so caught up with his daydream, he didn’t even realize she was talking to him. “I’m sorry what did you say?” He asked with a bashful smile. She shook her head with a gentle laugh, and said “I was just saying you should go get comfortable, I’ll be in here for a while.” He looked at her and gave a soft nod, immediately going to lie down on the couch and continue his daydreaming. For a while, he could hear her gentle hums coming from the kitchen, and he let that lull him into a peaceful sleep where he dreamed of a future where they were together.

A few hours later he was woken up by someone gently shaking his shoulder. He rubbed his eyes, put his glasses on, and when he looked to see who it was, he swore he was still dreaming. She looked almost angelic standing above him with a caring smile and a bowl of something in her hands. “Sorry to wake you, it just hit 4, so I thought you might be hungry,” she gave a soft shrug and looked a bit nervous to see what his reaction might be. He took the bowl from her hands and gave a soft thank you with a smile he hoped was kind, and not some kind of grimace from still being a bit tired. He realized it was baked potato soup and he had to admit it was the best soup he had ever had, “This is amazing, thank you so much.” She gave another shrug and replied “It’s the least I can do, need our best sorcerer and drummer to get better soon! I put the rest in the fridge along with the Alfredo. The snacks are still on your island, but I should get out of your hair now. If you need anything please know I am a call away.” He really didn’t want her to leave just yet so he did something that even shocked him, “Do you want to stay, I’m sure you’re hungry as well and we could watch a movie or something?” Her eyes widened and a bright smile appeared on her face, “I would love to if you really don’t mind.” Of course, he didn’t mind, was she crazy?? If he could he would spend all of his time with her. “I don’t, please you’ve done so much for me today so please stay.” He didn’t mean to sound so needy, but it didn’t seem to deter her. In fact, her smile got brighter and she nodded her head.

They decided on watching Wall-E, it seemed like a good idea at the moment, but now they are both sniffling on the couch. “God who knew a cute robot could turn two adults into an emotional mess?” she said while turning to him, wiping the tears from under her eyes. He looked at her and she was gorgeous he thought. They sat looking in each other’s eyes for a moment and in a flash, their lips were on each other. He doesn’t know who leaned in first, all he knew was her lips were soft and he could feel her breath from her nose. As soon as it started, it was over and he chased her lips when she pulled away. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I’m so- I’m gonna go. Thank you Bob.” she rushed out, quickly grabbed her stuff, and practically ran from his apartment. He sat there dumbfounded, had he messed it up so quickly? Did she not like him in the same way he did her? He didn’t know, he kept wondering what happened while putting things away, and he fell asleep asking himself what happened.

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A few weeks have passed, and things have gone semi-back to normal. There’s an awkward tension between them every session, every band practice, and the texts from her have stopped outside of letting him know of any changes to the schedule. Natasha could tell something was going on with her backseater, but he wouldn’t budge. He just told her it was nothing and that he was fine. But anyone with any common sense could see he wasn’t fine, he was distracted at work, he didn’t have the band members over for dinner, and he just seemed lost in thoughts every time someone talked to him at Hard Deck. But Natasha wasn’t having it, so she contacted Y/N, she told her Bob was acting strange. Y/N let her know what happened, and that she felt as if the kiss had only happened because Bob was emotional. She also let it slip to Nat that she had been harboring a crush on Bob since they first met, and despite trying to ignore it, it continued to grow. Nat told her the band should perform at the Hard Deck that weekend, and Y/N agreed only if Bob was okay with it. She texted Bob and he decided it was time to overcome the fear of the Dagger Squad knowing he was in a band. If he couldn’t overcome the fear of telling her how he felt, and how the kiss made him feel, then he could at least do this. And so it was set, the group would be performing at the Hard Deck, and Bob let that distract him from whatever else he was feeling at the time.

Saturday finally came, and Bob was a ball of nerves. He was sure the squad wouldn’t be too harsh towards him, but when it came to Hangman, he could never tell. When he arrived at the bar to do sound checks, he saw her again and a bit of his nerves calmed. She looked at him with a gentle but nervous smile “Hey Bob, glad you made it. We’re just gonna run through a few songs, and then we’ll get going with the show. I also brought a new song, it’s not too much but it will be the last song for the night.” He nodded his head, a bit lost in her eyes. He pushed his glasses up a bit and got his drums set up. After sound check, people started filling in the bar. Nat came up to him with a bit of a smirk, “I know about your kiss with Miss Gorgeous Singer up there.” She then lightly punched his arm, “Why wouldn’t you tell me, Bob? This is important information and I thought we were best friends.” She had a faux pout on her lips now and he shrugged, “I don’t know what happened Nat, it was going so well and then she just ran out.” He looked down, twirling his drumsticks, and she realized he was quite upset. She’s guessing the two idiots haven’t even talked about it. “I’m sorry Bob, but hey maybe things will work out after tonight,” she said with a comforting smile. It was at that moment, Jake, Javy, Bradley, and Mickey realized it was their own “Baby on Board” on the drums for tonight.

“Well well well, what do we have here?” Jake said with his usual smirk on his face. “Cut it bagman.” Natasha quickly replied, she realized it was time for the band to start so she gave Bob a final comforting smile, then quickly pushed Jake and the rest of the guys back.

You got on stage and introduced the band. The show started and everything was going well. Bob was keeping up, concentrating hard and using the quick time between songs to push his glasses up his nose. Finally it was time for the new song, and he was a bit nervous, seeing as they hadn’t rehearsed it yet. He heard you clear your throat as you said “Hey y’all, this last song is a new one I wrote about a week ago. Sometimes you just meet someone and realize you will always be there for them no matter what.” With that, you looked back to the group and nodded to let them know it was time to start.

I’m the watermelon slammed into your driveway

Crack me open so I feel the air inside me

Bob stared at her while playing and realized that in someway, she had cracked his introverted shell. She helped him become more comfortable. She even was a huge reason he had a group of people who cared about him, outside of the dagger squad. He quickly looked at Natasha in the crowd, just to see her smirking right at him.

Music boyfriend I’m your yum yum

Call me and I’ll come

Y/N’s words from weeks prior echoed in his head as she sang, “If you need anything please know I am a call away.” And it hit him in this moment that maybe just maybe, she did feel the same way about him.

Am I dreaming or did you just kiss me

You don’t know it but you already miss me

He looked back at her and realized she was looking at him. Singing this song to him. She had a bashful smile on her face, and he could tell she was a nervous.

Fuck the rest of them

Fuck em all

Fuck em all but us

In this moment, everyone else in the bar seemed to fade away. It was just them, and he made the decision to admit what he was feeling after the show. She was breathtaking, and he thinks he may not make it if he doesn’t tell her tonight. She finally turned away in time to sing the last line to the crowd.

Fuck em all but us.

When the song ended, the bar was full of applause, even the squad looked impressed by the show. Bob watched her walk off stage after saying her thank yous, and head for the back deck. He got up to follow but was immediately stopped by the Dagger Squad, they were all patting him on the back and smiling at him. “Didn’t think you had it in you Bob, but that was truly amazing. And it seems as if the singer thinks so too.” Jake said to him with a genuine smile on his face. Natasha pushed Jake out of the way and gave Bob a hug, pulling away she said “Go get her, we’ll all still be here when you get back.” With that Bob gave a quick thank you and rushed toward the back door.

He saw y/n standing there, arms crossed over the railing and head up to the sky. When she heard the door open, she turned her head and she had a sheepish smile on her face. He thought she looked so beautiful, a bit sweaty from the show, the moon as backlighting. Her beauty rivaled that of the ocean. She was gorgeous in every sense of the word.

“You did good tonight Bobby. Thank you for letting us come play here.” She said softly as he made his way over to her. He felt warmth crawl up his neck at the use of his nickname, and he put his hand on his neck as he told her “You were gorgeous tonight.” She gave a soft laugh and bashfully turned her head. Before she could respond he continued talking, “Thank you. For everything. You invited me to this band, not even knowing if I was a good drummer. You texted me daily just to make sure I was doing okay. You made me possibly the best food I’ve had in forever. Don’t tell my ma I said that, she would never let me live it down.” He chuckled while saying that, he took a deep breath in and continued, “You have changed me as a person, so thank you.” She looked back at him, eyes wide, mouth agape. She had tears lining the bottom of her eyes, as she rushed over to hug him. “I’m so sorry I ran out of your apartment that night. I was nervous you were only kissing me because of the emotions from the movie and the tiredness. But that kiss meant everything to me. I haven’t stopped thinking about it or you since it happened.” Her speech was a bit muffled from the way she was pressed to Bob. Now it was his turn to look a bit shocked, he hadn’t even thought about how she might have thought it was all her fault. He held her and said“Darlin’ I think we’ve both been a bit idiotic. I’ve wanted to kiss you ever since I met you, and after that night I thought I messed everything up. I truly like you, I think I might even be falling in love with you if I’m honest.” She pulled back a bit and looked him in the eyes for the slightest sign that he could be lying, when she couldn’t find one she put her hand on his neck and pulled his lips to hers. This kiss was different. This kiss held all of the unspoken feelings they’ve both kept bottled up for months. He grabbed her hips and pushed her back against the railing, she opened her mouth to gasp, allowing his tongue to slip inside.

She tugged at his hair and he let out a quiet groan. Just as he was making way to pick her up, the loud noise of several nosey aviators cheering burst their bubble. She pulled back and leant her forehead on his chest, shying away a bit. He turned back to see the group smiling, clapping, whooping, and hollering. He turned back towards her and lifted her face up to his, “I’m sorry about them. Also I’m sorry I feel like I’m doing this a bit backwards, but would you like to go out for dinner soon?” He felt a bit nervous asking the question but she just looked at him like he hung all the moon and stars. “Sure, how about we go talk to your friends for a bit, then go pick up some food, and maybe finish what we start at your place?” She asked with a flirty smirk on her face. Yeah she was going to be the death of him.

[aliensfuckmeup]

Another page from the Loop Being Emo In The Woods WIP! The aftermath of the little episode from the previous page I posted. This one’s finished, and I need to think long and hard abt whether this level of detail is like, sustainable for something 15 pages long 😅

This comic originated from wanting to see more straight up sifloop romance, with pining and sad eyes and angsty internal monologues and tropey romcom bits and a healthy mix of drama/comedy. I plotted out a couple funny little one page comics, then got into thinking about character motivations and emotional beats, and now we’re like, maybe 15 comics/scenes/chaoters plotted and storyboarded in this universe? But because I hate keeping things simple, every one of those fucking comics is between 6-15 pages long and dialogue heavy, and I’m getting mired in the characterization of it all (not even counting getting mired in the visual storytelling and the plot progression of it all! And not even getting started on the “still very new to digital art, how does one use procreate” of it all!) Soooo haha I’m in danger :3

If anyone wants to talk in dms or on discord abt this comic and the greater sifloop shipping trash story it’s part of, hit me up! Especially if you know your way around plotting out a story a lil bit. I don’t know how to start conversations online 🙈 but I like to think I bring a lot to the table talking meta, trading wips and other art that I can’t post here, making lil comics from discord bits, and exchanging help with plotting/storyboarding/dialogue/character interpretations.

[crooked-wasteland]

I think what annoys me so much about the way the show blasts Blitzo for being a cold and unromantic partner is that it’s a perfect example of ignoring worldbuilding to make a character look worse.

By human standards, Blitzo abandoning someone when they tell them that they love him is pretty cowardly and understandably upsetting. But in Hell standards? Verosika should’ve fucking known he’d run away because Hell seems to look down heavily at the concept of love. This is like knowing that it’s taboo to kiss and then getting mad at a character for not kissing you. You can’t blame someone for being adjusted to what society expects of you. Verosika can still be hurt but it’s genuinely insane how much she clings on to this hate like he did a crime.

And the fact that we just skip over seeing their relationship is also infuriating because I get the feeling that Viv was both not interested in actually showing us what Verosika was like and also afraid to make her do anything that feels more in line with her character which is act angsty and spiteful

I've had a thought about Verosika. From the we've seen this season, the writers have actually listened to and addressed criticism for the show. The Ghostfuckers leaks show an overhaul of the original story, the fact that episodes got shifted around at the start of the series, the blatant un-writing of the assassination plot, and the fact that Unhappy Campers was the only pre-special episode to not be in the season 2 trailer (most likely because it was still in the early stages of animation due to massive rewrites to incorporate more Millie) are all evidence to this. It's obvious the crew is not happy about it, but they are listening.

With that in mind, the show has repeatedly been accused of extremely sexist writing in favor of the male cast. As such, it's not surprising to see the pivot more towards "humanizing" the female characters in specific. I remember seeing a lot of comments about how they wouldn't forgive the show if they made another female character irredeemably cruel and brainless following The Circus, and even louder after Western Energy.

What fans had wanted was a complicated or even toxic dynamic where both characters weren't perfect, but still held Blitz accountable for his actions, fairly. What they got was the cheapest, laziest writing I've ever seen. Not only does it not make sense in regards to the established world building of Hell's attitude towards love, it still makes no sense for Blitz to run away just because Verosika said she loved him, only to then adopt a child. He explicitly goes to the pound looking for a pup, pivoting to taking in Loona out of pity. It's like saying marriage is too much of a commitment, but still having kids.

Instead, Medrano overcorrected to pander to critics the same way she panders to her fans. Verosika is not an irredeemably cruel and stupid, spiteful woman. She's a perfect victim actually. Not only is her only crime falling in love, but the relationship ended so fast and sudden that she didn't have any time to do anything.

All these choices feel not only deliberate, but resentful in how little care went into the writing. The most drastic overhaul being to Ghostfuckers where the entire narrative trimmed down and immensely reworked already existing elements into the script. It goes to show the level of improvement possible to an idea when given better direction, but it also shows the limitations of not having actual writers on the team.

Ghostfuckers does an amateur's best and comes out generally okay, but still suffers from over reliance on tropes without narrative substance. It's the genuine best that can be done with this team. And unfortunately that's still not good enough.

[socksracoon10]

Waiting For Nothing

Pairing: Legolas Greenleaf x F!Reader A/N: I haven't written for LOTR for a while, so I thought I'd make ya'll sad with this angsty Legolas fic. Have fun! The hearts of the warriors are often small; they've grown accustomed to fighting and death. And in each battle they fight, a layer of their heart sheds off. It falls to the ground, and rejoins the earthly soil to be reborn in another's. The scars remain, but the feelings behind the memories will slowly fade, until there is nothing more than the shell of a man who attained glory with his rotting heart a testament to the last sliver of hope that echoed in the beating of his heart.

Your heart was rather large. Having lived most of your life as the poor peasant girl with no relatives by blood, Edoras welcomed you into open arms. You were friends with almost everyone, especially with Théoden's niece, Éowyn, who quickly became your best friend - Théoden even considered you his niece as well because of how close you two were. The two of you would go riding on horses, galloping around in joy as you remained oblivious to the impending doom that would soon terrorize the entirety of Rohan in just a matter of a few days.

"I can hardly see why you roam this castle so willingly when we know your place is outside in a small hut…" Grima Wormtongue spat when you had walked past him. You glanced at him over your shoulder, your lips sharply turning into a scowl. The audacity of that vile creature to even speak in your direction. You huffed out in annoyance, biting the inside of your cheek as you chose your next words, carefully.

"Bold words coming from a creature that is more disheveled than an Orc," You snickered before haughtily marching off.

Within hours, you were kicked out of the palace and exiled from Rohan. You were back to being an orphan, right where you had started. Éowyn had looked at you with such pain in her eyes but she knew that if she were to act out against this cruel decree, she would face a similar fate and nothing could be done to save the Kingdom she so dearly loved.

Living in the outskirts was not as easy as you had initially thought it to be. In your mind, you had foolishly assured yourself that since you had been in this condition before everything would come naturally. It wasn't until the first hour passed did you sorely miss the place you once called home. With nowhere to go, you wandered around aimlessly, circling the borders of Edoras repeatedly to keep your mind occupied. By the 5th day, you swore you were dying due to starvation and thirst. You could barely move, your body lay stricken on a rock as you gasped for air. Your head tilted slightly to your right, the pain in your stomach blooming to elsewhere in your body and from afar, you noticed three horses charging towards you. You couldn't even sit up properly to examine the incoming invaders, and you weakly lifted your hand, silently begging for help.

The three horses revealed their masters on top of them, a tall dark haired man, another being that resembled a wizard and on top of the third horse was a dwarf, and in front of him the most beautiful elf you had ever seen. You had heard stories of elves before in your life, ones that were told by Éowyn, but never once did you think one would be standing right before you. If you were to die in this exact moment, you would've been very pleased that you at last saw an elf.

The man jumped off his horse and crouched down to your level, feeling your forehead before turning to the elf,

"Legolas, fetch her some of your Lembas bread, and you Gimli give her your water." The man instructed; not knowing whose name belonged to which creature, you looked between the four beings with curiosity, despite being so near to death's door. The elf crouched down besides you, allowing you to drink some water before chewing on his bread. Your hunger knew no bounds and you chewed and chewed, swallowing whole lumps of bread as you slowly began to regain some of your health. The man sighed in contentment, giving you a soft smile before standing up to walk towards the Wizard. The elf, on the other hand, stared at you with a gentle smile on his face and kept offering you food until you said no.

"What's your name?" The man asked,

"My name is (Y/N) (L/N)," You whispered, taking another sip of water. You coughed a few times, swallowing thickly before meeting his gaze.

"I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn. This is Gandalf the White, that is Gimli, son of Gloin and over to your left is Legolas of the Woodland Realms." Aragorn exclaimed, gesturing towards the elf beside you. You glanced back to face the elf, a small smile forming on your face. After acquainting yourself with the 4 beings, they heard your pitiful tale and realized that Rohan deeply needed imminent change. They allowed you to accompany them, seating yourself behind Aragorn as the horses charged forward.

Your eyes, however, remained glued onto the elf. You noticed his soft features, the way the wind seemed to swirl around him and only him, and his piercing eyes that scoured the land before him with diligence. His silence captivated you, and you did not know why.

With Grima Wormtongue out of the way, and your adoptive uncle restored to his glory, it seemed that you were finally welcome in the castle. Éowyn had rushed forward, capturing you into a warm embrace before kissing your forehead. She grinned at you, holding onto your arms ecstatically as she danced to and fro, dragging you deeper into the throne room. As she tugged at your hands, you glanced to your right to find the elf conversing with the dwarf, the both of them walking in the opposite direction with concern glazing their eyes. You wanted to listen, you wanted to be a part of them… but you did not know why. You yearned for the chance to just be alone with him, and whether it was good for Rohan or not, the chance soon came when everyone was ordered to seek shelter at Helm's Deep.

"You're rather quiet," You chirped, catching up to Legolas. The walk to Helm's Deep was excruciating and you feared that the boredom would kill you before starvation or even worse - the Uruk-hais. Legolas smirked, his lips curving ever so slightly upwards before he turned to face you,

"Forgive me. I am not one to converse so easily in such pressing times. Though, of course, must you include Gimli in our conversation, I shall pass a few jokes at his expense." He glanced over his shoulder to face Gimli atop his horse; the dwarf shook his head and grumbled,

"I'd cut yer pointy ears off if ye try to embarrass me in front of this lassie," He scoffed and you let out a laugh, before turning to Legolas,

"Come now, surely you would be able to carry a conversation without teasing the poor dwarf!"

"Perhaps, but I do not know for sure," He sighed, before resuming his silence as he watched the horizons.

Legolas knew. He could sense your attraction towards him, but he chose not to say anything about it. He hoped that it would pass, that you would not be bound at his feet, desperate for his affection. Because it would never work, and he did not have the heart to admit that he did not have any feelings for you. You were trying so hard, trying to spend more time with him. You were trying to distract yourself from the doom that lay ahead of you because everyone knew how big your heart was; all you could ever do was dream.

Éowyn and you had both tried to convince the King to let the two of you fight. There was nothing for you to lose, you both loved your Kingdom, tremendously. But as Aragorn reminded Éowyn of her duty, you turned to face Legolas whose piercing eyes never once left you. His lips formed into a thin line, and he followed Aragorn out of the room, leaving you in your thoughts.

"She's very affectionate towards you," Aragorn pointed out as they were leaving,

"I'm well aware," Legolas responded.

"What do you plan to do about it?" The man questioned.

"Nothing."

"Nothing? Legolas, perhaps-"

"Perhaps we do not speak of it." Legolas jeered, his brows furrowing at the rightful heir to Gondor. "We have more pressing matters to deal with, the lives of 100 thousand men are at steak tonight."

"Ignoring her will only heighten her love for you, she will be desperate. She will be fooled into thinking that she has a chance. If you are going to reject her, at least have the courage to tell her directly!"

"That wee lass will be devastated," Gimli chimed in, fixing his helmet, "You sure you don't feel anything?"

"I'm positive, I do not." Legolas grimaced and shoved past his two friends to grab his arrows. The incoming surge of Uruk-hais was his primary concern, but the guilt he felt as he killed one after the other tormented him. With each arrow he shot, he felt his burden increase tenfold. Aragorn and Gimli were right, but why could he not bring himself to tell you the truth? To tell you that he had no feelings for you?

Because… then he would be lying. He watched you from afar at times, watched the way you'd dance with Éomer, your arm wrapped around his as you skipped around. You'd stand beside Théoden to catch a breath, your eyes searching for Legolas and when they landed on him, he'd instantly look away - as if he wasn't staring at you. As if he wasn't infatuated with you the same way you were with him. He was lying to himself, he wanted to break free. He wanted to stand near you, to hear you constantly chittering about something; his heart ached at the sight of you fondly playing with some children. His mind roamed to thoughts that turned into dreams; dreams of you and him together. But this was wrong, all of this was wrong. He would only live a short life with you, and when you died, he would spend the rest of his life in solitude.

He'd seen it with his father. He'd seen the way his mother's death impacted him; he was not a man of many words, but his cold demeanor lingered around Legolas, a constant reminder of the similar fate he'd feel if he decided to indulge in his present feelings. He decided that he had to do something about it, even if he couldn't face it himself.

"Would you like something to eat?" You asked, toying with an apple as Legolas tended to his horse near the campsite. He glanced over his shoulder, looking at you with solemn eyes. You could've sworn a tear drop cascaded down his pale cheeks. He harshly took a deep breath in, and shook his head,

"It is alright, I do not need anything to eat." He responded, his fingers wrapped around the reins of his horse.

"Well, perhaps I could offer you something? It is not material…" You began, stepping forward with hope in your eyes. It pained him, it pained him more than anything else in the world. He could not bring himself to do this, but at the same time, it would be even worse to accept your affections.

"Lady (L/N), please." Legolas exclaimed, finally meeting your eyes, "Do not continue. I… I cannot accept your affection."

You paused in your tracks, looking at him with wide eyes.

"I do not… envision a future of us two living a happy life." He was searching for proper words, his head turning around the room as if he was physically swimming through his thoughts, "I… My heart is heavy, I have never felt this way for anyone. I do not want to be the one to burden your heart, but I am afraid that you must keep those feelings to yourself. There is nothing that I can do. Nothing we can do."

"I… You… You don't even know what I was going to say…" You reasoned, and Legolas let out a huff,

"I do not need to hear you say it, I already know. I've seen the way you look at me, the way you tend to me. I am forever in your debt for your kindness, I thank you for it. But, it cannot continue. Aragorn, Gimli, and I will be leaving tonight." Legolas murmured, tugging on the reins as he drove his horse forward and away from you. Your heart sunk at his words, unsure of what was happening.

This couldn't be happening to you. Not before you even had the chance to tell him how you felt. What if he realized how true your love was for him? What if this was the last time you ever saw him?

"I shall be waiting for you." You stated, swiftly turning on your heels to face his departing form.

"Don't, you'll be waiting for nothing," Legolas whispered, his eyes softening at your words.

"Nothing is… indeed something," You breathed, your fingers linked together as you began to fidget, nervously. "Perhaps, you'll understand. Perhaps you'll… come back."

"Perhaps, but I would not count on it." Legolas sighed, before hopping onto his horse and riding off, leaving you alone for the night.

"I see you've told her how you felt," Aragorn had asked Legolas when they were far from Rohan, "Does it feel as if your heart is lighter now, with nothing to worry about?"

Legolas paused, hearing Gimli grumble a few curses under his breath regarding the elf. He opened his mouth to speak, before closing it. The elf thought deeply, his mind was utterly blank and he hated it.

"I feel…" He began, "I feel as if I've only made it worse. Not just for her, but... for me as well." He swallowed, thickly, before glancing over his shoulder to take one last look at Rohan. The wind was still, there was not much that he could hear.

Except for the beating of a very large heart that painfully yearned for him with each fleeting second.

[shadowdaddies]

Reunited - Part II

Fenrys x Reader

Part I | Part III

Summary: after years of working as a spy in Adarlan, you are finally reunited with your cousin, Aelin, as you join the war to reclaim Terrasen and bring peace to Erilea. What you don't expect is to meet your mate in the middle of a war.

A/N: this story will have at least two more parts; this one is very angsty I’m sorry

Warnings: canon-typical violence, EOS spoilers

The door to the pub slammed behind Aedion with such a force that you flinched in your seat. 

“He will come around,” you murmured, reaching your hand across the table towards your father. You sighed softly at Gavriel’s dejected expression, taking his hand in your own as you mustered a weak smile. “I’ll talk to him,” you promised, knowing the sway you held with your brother.

Your father’s tawny eyes shone with something like pride as he squeezed your hand, his blonde hair swaying as he shook his head. “Aedion is right to feel the way that he does. I don’t expect him to come around easily. He is as stubborn as your mother,” Gavriel paused, a lump working in his throat as he studied you. “And you are as fiercely kind.”

You opened your mouth to say more, something to comfort him, when an alarm rang in the distance. Gavriel had drawn his dagger before you could blink, his body blocking yours protectively from the rest of the room. Another alarm sounded from the lookout tower, dreading realization crashing over you like the waves you looked to out the window. 

Jumping from your seat, you sprinted up the stairs to Rolfe’s office Aelin stood, her relaxed demeanor a stark contrast to Rolfe’s torrent of emotions. He regretfully reached a tattooed hand towards Aelin, the blonde gladly shaking it. “Thank you for your assistance, Lord Rolfe.”

The mischievous glint in your cousin’s eyes told you all that you needed to know, but Aelin wasted no time barking orders for everyone in the room to get to the ships and prepare for the Valg’s approach. 

Fenrys found you quickly, his arm wrapping protectively around your waist as you hurried towards the docks. Despite everything, the peace that filled you at his simple touch was undeniable. In the few days you had spent together, Fenrys had become an anchor in the storm of this impending war. 

“Are you okay?” he murmured, voice like a soft balm to your nerves as you took his hand from around your waist, weaving your fingers through his own. 

Your gaze flicked to his, the tenderness in his onyx eyes grounding you in the moment. “I’m alright,” you promised, squeezing his hand in reassurance. 

You reached the ship, Fenrys lifting you by the waist to help you over the ledge of the vessel, only for you to trip and stumble into his warm, toned chest. Your hearts pounded, synchronized even in the chaos as you made your way to the bow of the boat where Aelin and Rowan stood.

Salty air whipped around your face in breathtaking levels of wind, seawater splashing as Rowan’s wind propelled the ship unnaturally fast against the waves. Lysandra’s scales shone underneath the water, what would be a dazzling sight if not for the fear that had worked its way deep inside of you at the sight of the Valg fleet approaching. 

The next hour was a blur of fighting, canon fire, sea monsters, and every impossible thing you never believed could happen in this world. Nightmares followed the next several nights. The image of Aelin, burning out of control and falling into the sea, Fenrys’s hand ripping from your own as he dove after her.

~~~

That night, you awoke in a cold sweat, hands clawing at the edges of the mattress as you’d clung to the railing of the ship when you’d watched your mate dive out of sight. You had barely registered your surroundings - the peaceful inside of your cabin - when a familiar warm hand touched your shoulder. 

“Hey, it’s alright. I’m here,” Fenrys murmured in your ear, a silent sob breaking through you at his voice. “Can I hold you?” he asked, hand lightly rubbing your shoulder. 

You nodded, sniffling as you tugged Fenrys’s hand from your shoulder, wrapping it around your waist as you moved as close as possible to his warmth. “You scared me today,” you admitted, barely above a whisper. “I thought... I thought that this wonderful thing, this bond with an incredible male had come just in time for me to lose you. And I can’t. I can’t lose you, Fenrys. I’m sorry if it’s too soon for me to say that, but I don’t know how I’ve lived without you in my life.”

Blonde curls fell across your cheek as Fenrys leaned down, his lips warm as they pressed a lingering touch to your ear. “I understand completely. You have brought a light to my life that I did not think possible, and I would do anything to keep you safe and happy. That is why I dove after Aelin. She will keep you safe - I know that. And you are my priority now. You have given me new purpose.”

In all your years - even before those spent as a spy in Adarlan - you had never experienced such profound intimacy. Never connected, cared for someone as deeply as you did for your mate. It was frightening to consider, but his warm press against your body filled any cracks of doubt and worry, allowing you to sleep soundly in his arms. 

Each night passed the same way, Fenrys and you now sharing the same bed, simply holding each other. Your physical intimacy never went further than a kiss on the cheek, arms wrapped around one another’s waist, but the emotional connection was something you did not believe possible.

~~~

When Melisande’s fleet descended upon you, Fenrys kept you close to his side, the two of you working seamlessly as a team to defend your ships and allies from the Valg. Canon fire roared in your ears as you saw Lorcan’s dark form at the stern of the ship - his eyes set on the coast where he had left Elide. 

“Fenrys!” you called, desperate for your mate’s attention as Lorcan abandoned ship, the desperation with which he fought his way towards shore something you wouldn’t have understood until you met Fenrys. Your mate caught your gaze, his onyx eyes flaring wide as he tracked Lorcan’s movements.

“Elide is in danger. I need you to trust me - I will go help them, but I want you safe here on the ship,” Fenrys pleaded, hands cupping your cheeks as he blocked out the world to focus on you. 

“I can’t leave you again,” you admitted, hand coming up to hold his own. Silver lined your eyes as Fenrys’s forehead leaned against your own. “Please,” you whispered, voice broken as you held him close, as though you could stop him from leaving.

Your father’s hand clasped on Fenrys’s shoulder, drawing the two of you from your moment. “It’s now or never,” he spoke, voice firm yet warm as Gavriel nodded towards the dingy. “We will be able to hold off these forces, but we need to leave now if you want to help Lorcan and Elide.”

Without a second thought, you ran towards the dingy, hopping inside along your mate and father as the three of you rowed to shore. Stumbling through the sand, your legs ached from the strain of running towards the crowd of people further inland. And time stood still as you recognized the pale, black-haired female lashing out dark power at Aelin. 

Maeve’s eyes shone with wicked delight as people stood around, helpless while an exhausted Aelin crumpled before the fae queen. Your father rushed forward, leaving you behind with Fenrys as he pleaded Maeve to spare Aelin.

“Please,” Gavriel whispered, kneeling before Maeve. “Leave Aelin be. Take me instead. Take my life.” 

The scream that ripped from your throat was muffled by a large hand over your mouth, Lorcan’s intense gaze looking down upon you as he slowly shook his head. “Do not alert attention to yourself. She cannot know what you are to Fenrys,” he whispered. 

Every nerve in your body was on fire, panic coursing through your veins as you turned to see the male who swore to stay by your side, slowly inching further away. 

You were vaguely aware of your father, his own tears hitting the ground beneath him as he felt the pain of his blood bond being stripped away. Waves of horror knocked the breath from your lungs as Maeve called Aelin to bow, your cousin and Queen whipped before your eyes while no one took action.

Fenrys stood still, frozen under Maeve’s command as your mate could not afford to spare you a glance, leaving you at the mercy of Lorcan’s strong arm holding you back. “Do not make a scene, unless you want to make it worse for Fenrys,” he warned.

Salty tears streaked down your cheeks, your gaze locking with the tawny eyes of your father as he weakly managed his way over to you. Blinding anger coursed through you, confusion at how you could end up in this situation, surrounded by the most feared warriors, all of you forced into a position of waiting as your Queen was placed in an iron sarcophagus.

Fists clenched so hard your nails drew blood from your palms, disgusted with yourself as you allowed Aelin to be taken away so that your mate would be spared. And then the ground fell out from under you when Maeve ordered Fenrys to follow.

Your mate did not so much as spare you a look over his shoulder, but every muscle in his body seemed to strain as he fought against the order to walk away from you, from your father, your new family. 

You bit down hard, Lorcan hissing as your teeth sunk into his fingers, blood dripping from your lips as he released you. You charged after Fenrys, running with no plan other than willing to risk everything for the person who had become more than everything to you.

But once again, broad arms wrapped around your waist as your father held you in his arms. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry” Gavriel whispered, tears streaking down his face as you felt his calm, healing power wash over you, the world fading to black as you lost consciousness.

[tossawary]

I think it was a good idea to save Edgeworth as an "enemy" for the second case in "Ace Attorney", because players are going to be distracted in the first case by just trying to figure out how the game works, and players are also going to be focused on other important characters like Mia and Larry. Larry's case is a fun tutorial level and slow story setup before the game throws you into the deep end of "Turnabout Sisters".

But, in hindsight, Edgeworth being utterly absent from the first case has the potential to be both incredibly angsty and incredibly funny. Like, Edgeworth is obviously not the only prosecutor available and probably just wasn't assigned to this particular case, but let's read into it anyway!

He's probably capable of calling in a favor to hand off a case if he really doesn't want to take it, and he's apparently been dodging all of Phoenix's attempts at reaching out to him, so it's possible that Edgeworth intentionally avoided this first case. But why then show up for the second if he didn't want to see Phoenix again? Why break radio silence? One interpretation (beyond just being assigned to this case and cynically doing his job) is that Edgeworth genuinely thinks that he's helping Phoenix and pursuing justice in the second case. Mia Fey is compared a couple times to Gregory Edgeworth. I think that Miles Edgeworth must have at least an unconscious desire not to have Phoenix Wright go through what he went through: seeing his idol's murderer walk free, whether or not it was an accident, whether or not the young defendant cannot be "fairly" tried.

(Miles was prepared to wholly blame himself for his father's murder despite, from his initial perspective, it being an accident when he was only 9 years old. If he's that brutal with himself, then he's not going to go easy on Maya.)

Another possibility is that Miles had already resigned himself to facing off against Phoenix Wright eventually and had decided to let fate happen when it happened, but then the first AA case was assigned to him and he saw that LARRY BUTZ was the defendant. I like to imagine that Miles handed that shit off to Payne immediately, like, "I'm not touching this case with a ten-foot pole."

[irondad-and-spiderson]

Hi! Sorry to bother, idk if you take asks like this (if you don't feel free to ignore!) but do you know any good fics where SI employees bully/threaten/mistreat Peter and Tony comes to the rescue? Thank you so much for your time 💙💙

Hi! I absolutely do! I might just take forever to respond and take your prompt a little loosely 😃 The three under the cut are employees with (valid) security concerns. I know there are more that I can’t find, so anyone feel free to add some 😉

A Big Security Issue by FotiBrit

When Peter lost his Stark Industries Staff ID, Tony handed the kid his own. That was never an issue, until Peter had to check in at the front desk.

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The Cusp of a Breath by SpaceCowboysFromMars

“That was the most stressful thing I’ve ever experienced.” Peter says as he and Tony make their way into the crowd. He wipes his sweaty palms on his thighs, cringing when he remembers how much the suit costs.

“You got shot on patrol last month.”

“This was worse.”

Or; Peter is introduced as the official heir of Stark Industries, but not everyone is completely welcoming of his presence. Luckily, he has a pretty awesome mentor to keep him on track.

-

the love (and other things) you inherit by ironfidus

“Which is why,” Catherine says, unblinking, as delicately as she can, “the board requires that you name a successor in the event of your untimely demise. The risk has simply become too great for us to ignore.”

Tony Stark’s spent a large portion of his life thinking about legacy: his legacy, his company’s, Iron Man’s. He’s spent a lot of time fighting to protect his legacy, too. But today, with a lawyer as his witness and FRIDAY as his one-AI cheerleading squad, he stops, takes a step back, and lets go instead—because for the first time, his legacy isn’t about him, not really.

And as FRIDAY would say: it’s about damn time.

Alternatively: Tony updates his will and gets himself an heir, Peter gets a promotion (for lack of a better word), and the rest of the world gets a wake-up call—in that order. Ft. an impatient board of directors, a Stark Industries charity gala, and a universe in which Tony Stark gets to be happy.

-

Security Bias by Sara (ctrsara)

Happy Hogan asks Daren Anderson to help him out with a little project.

My take on idk-bruh-20's irondad fic ideas #128: Fic where, after a security incident in which some bozo accused Peter of trespassing at Stark Tower, Happy holds an emergency briefing for the entire SI security team.

The topic of the briefing? The absolutely untouchable, vital-to-know-if-you-want-to-keep-your-job level of importance of one Peter Parker.

:)

Five Times Tony Stark's Fabled Intern Just Showed Up + One Time He Was Invited by kingdomfaraway

While Leroy didn’t like gossip, he wasn’t immune to it and he’d heard about a young boy claiming to be Tony Stark’s intern showing up randomly throughout the building. He just figured it was some random mystery, a Stark Industries cryptid if you will.

Never did he think he’d have a sighting.

“Are you Peter Parker?” Leroy questioned, narrowing his eyes at the young boy, looking for any signs of deceit.

“Oh yeah, that’s me, hi!” Possibly Fabled Intern Peter Parker reached into his pocket and pulled out a badge and lanyard, this one with his face on it and INTERN written underneath it. “Mr. Stark got me a badge so I can get nachos whenever I want.”

-

Chapter 1 of 200 Park Avenue (5+1) by Sara (ctrsara)

Peter hasn't seen Mr. Stark, or been able to go out as Spider-man since he turned down his invitation to join the Avengers a few weeks ago. He ends up at Stark Tower rather randomly, finding an unlikely hero in Mr. Stark's AI, then keeps returning for different purposes.

The first chapter is a short I did for Comfortember 2022 that I've just kept thinking about. I'm building on that story and creating a 5+1 to explore the new dynamic (post-Homecoming) in another way.

Or

5 Times Peter Visited Stark Tower and 1 Time He Stayed

-

Home by patrochilles_trash ((it’s less angsty than it sounds))

Tony had been out of the country for weeks on SI business, and Peter was having a hard time. He missed him, plain and simple.

Okay. Maybe not so plain and simple.

Peter had a rough time in the weeks and months that followed the final defeat of Thanos in the ruins of the Compound. Thrust back into life, only to be forced to fight for the lives of the entire universe for the second time at only sixteen-years-old, and then to be told that his last living relative died in a crash during his five year absence did wonders for his psyche.

He developed a nasty form of separation anxiety toward his mentor-turned-adoptive-father -- not that Tony fared much better himself -- and his therapist had said it was a side effect of PTSD and that it would get better over time.

OR

A small field trip fic to SI where Tony has been out of the country for a few weeks, and Peter isn't handling it well.

Don't be fooled. This garbage fluff to avoid my other fics that I'm writing