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welcometohelck · 3 months ago
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rom-e-o · 4 months ago
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Oh no, he angry.
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bighitfics · 5 months ago
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jeon jungkook fanfics that deserve to be turned into kdramas and selling books.
(a recommendation you badly need) ⭑.ᐟ
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Sauvage ౨ৎ by @tljunglebook
— grumpy x sunshine, cold and detached jungkook (who turns into a whipped puppy later on) office romance, slow burn.
(starting off strong! this book’s got the most delicious slow burn to ever exist! screaming at how sexy, dirty minded, down bad & protective for oc jungkook’s in this fic ugh the wattpad girlies already know that they’re my adopted parents)
10 Seconds ᥫ᭡ by @deepdarkdelights
— yandere jungkook, abduction, stalking, stockholm syndrome.
(this series is my first love, i would do anything to read this for the first time again!)
Penpal 𓍯𓂃 by @laughing-with-god
— yandere prisoner jungkook, stalking, breaking in.
(gotta contact some directors and producers to turn this into a drama! it would slay so hard with its refreshing plot line! and tbh no words are enough to describe her writing abilities, she’s a pro✨)
Risqué ✧˖° by @mercurygguk
— age gap, forbidden romance, smut, angst.
(the time stamps and drabbles are the essence of this fic, the smut is so well written! ALSO THE SEGSUAL TENSION AND OVERALL YEARNING MA’AM!? can someone already turn this into a mini netflix series please!?)
About Time ִ࣪𖤐 by @yoonia
— time travel au, major angst, second chances, smut, fluff.
(if i had the chance to devour a book, i’d eat this one (obviously) it’s one of the best books of my life, i would die to see a live version of this)
I Want You To Stay ʚɞ ⁺˖ by @ahundredtimesover
— ceo jungkook, strangers to lovers, slow burn, angst, smut.
(no slow burn ever slow burned the way this story slow burned! lemme warn ya’ll this fic will keep getting better as you read it!)
Bride Of Devil ♰ 𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ by @jasminefanfics
— dark romance, gangster au, enemies to lovers, forced proximity, age gap, kinda yandere husband jungkook.
(my youtube fanfic girlies assemble! this is the best mafia jungkook fic i can recommend for ya’ll! the bgm is so addictive and perfect)
An Abundance Of Luck And A Sprinkle Of Fate 𐙚 by @borathae
— strangers to lovers, romance, found family, smut, angst, healing.
(I remember being unhealthily obsessed with this lord, aaol!kook & oc will forever be my babies TT this book tugs at your heart in a way that’s inexplainable)
ps — have a good read girlies <3
follow for more.
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dedicatednotobsessed · 10 days ago
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Man of the Year [Ewan Mitchell x Wife!Reader]
Other HOTD stories
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Summary: Although I’m not taking actor requests anymore, I am so proud of Ewan for being an honoree for British GQ’s Man of the Year. So please enjoy this 574 word lil drabble. 💚
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You ran a brush through your hair as you stood in the hotel bathroom, makeup-free and already wearing one of your husband’s t-shirts, ready for bed. A small smile filled your features, hearing your four-year-old daughter’s voice through the phone, talking about how much she missed you and Ewan.
You were staying in a hotel, having traveled to London for GQ’s Man of the Year event at the Roof Gardens. You were proud of Ewan, having watched his career grow and how hard he worked to get where he is today. You first met him on the set of Netflix’s The Last Kingdom, playing his opposite, Fianna*. The two of you stayed close friends. Ewan helped you through your pregnancy with Evelyn when your boyfriend left, and he helped you get the role of his wife, Adryana Targaryen*, in HBO’s House of the Dragon.
In between seasons, you and Ewan became a couple. Nearly a year later, the two of you became husband and wife, and Ewan adopted Evie as his own; she was already his father more than her biological father was. 
“Am I going to see you and Mommy tomorrow?” You heard Evie whine as you walked out, leaning against the bathroom doorway, a giggle passing your lips.
Ewan chuckled. “Of course, princess. Now tell your grandmother to stop giving you sugar and head to bed, okay? Mommy and I love you and miss you and Ellie very much.”
You walked closer after he blew kisses and hung up, relaxing in his lap as he threw his phone to the side. “As much as I love our girls, I’m glad we had this night alone,” you said softly, fingers running through his blonde hair that still had some bleach from June. It felt like you hadn’t had a night alone in over a year, having given birth a couple of months ago to your second daughter, Eleanor.
Ewan hummed, his hands instinctively going to your waist, rubbing your sides gently while he looked up at you with his shining blue eyes. “We do deserve a night to ourselves, don’t we?” He asked with furrowed brows.
You moved your hands to his cheek, nodding, your smile widening. “Did I already tell you how proud I am of you?”
“About a hundred times,” he replied teasingly.
You leaned your head against his. “Well, make it a hundred and one. Being an honoree is an accomplishment,” you whispered. “But you will always be the man of the year to me.” You pulled back with a hum. ��And we should celebrate.”
Ewan raised his brows in curiosity. “Oh?”
You nodded. “With a giant pizza from room service,” you replied with a smirk.
He returned your smirk, pinching your side lightly. “Such a tease,” he whispered, pulling you close for a kiss.
You returned his kiss, placing your hands on Ewan’s chest to pull away. “We have two different definitions of celebrating, but I’m hungry,” you told him with a pout.
He chuckled, keeping one arm around you as he reached to pick up the hotel phone. “Fine, we can do both celebrations then.”
You smiled wide, leaning down to pepper his face with kisses. “Thank you, man of the year.”
Ewan only gave you a charming smile and leaned up, giving you one more soft kiss before he called the downstairs restaurant, ordering a bottle of champagne and a large pepperoni pizza to begin the celebrations.
*Fianna and Adryana are my OCs for Osferth and Aemond, respectfully. 💚
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outofconcheol · 9 months ago
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Exit West (LMH x F!Reader)
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pairing: Minho x f!reader (afab)
genres/au/rating: angst, smut, some fluff, post-apocalyptic au (based on the Netflix series Sweet Home), 18+
summary: Even when the world is plunged into its darkest hour, you find the faintest light in Minho.
warnings: heavy angst, lots of mentions of blood and injuries (i tried to make it as non-graphic as possible), minor character deaths, weapons, panic attack (again not graphic), it's heavily implied OC struggles with agoraphobia and PTSD, brief infidelity, Minho and reader do get into verbal arguments (they're a little toxic lol), Minho is a true loverboy, ambiguous but hopeful ending, smut warnings: kissing, fingering (f rec), unprotected sex, brief nipple play
word count: 6.3k
a/n: i'm so sorry that this took so long, google docs decided to be a jerk and delete a huge chunk of this while i was working on it (I apologize in advance for the poorly written angst)! It is based on the world of Sweet Home but honestly you don't need to have watched the show or read the webtoon to follow along. the title is from the book by Mohsin Hamid. I hope you enjoy! &lt;;3
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The sharp wire of the metal fence cuts into Minho’s palms, digging into his mottled skin, and he braces himself for the jump. Leaping over, Minho lands silently on his feet, skills honed from many years of observing his cats take the same leap from couches or counters. But none of that existed anymore.
His eyes remain sharp, taking in the cover of woods around him, and he remembers that while the trees helped him stay hidden, they hid the monsters from his sight as well. No sooner than he’s managed to calm down the ever-present racing of his heart, he’s swinging the door to the bunker open, closing it quietly behind him.
Wincing, he examines the cuts on his palms, tinged with dirty specks of rust. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep doing this, knowing the small supply of rubbing alcohol he’d managed to collect over the past few months was now down to the last bottle. And there was no more to be found.
The small bit of sunlight that streams in through the barely-qualifying window illuminates your sleeping figure nestled amongst a pile of dirty blankets, and Minho almost hesitates to disturb you like this. You look so peaceful like this, a stark contrast to the emptiness that fills your eyes when you wake, the pain of living through two starkly different lifetimes contained in their depths. He knows his eyes hold the same.
“___,” he shakes you awake gently, watching you stir. The gashes that mar your face have begun to scab over, leaving ugly scars in their wake.
“I brought dinner.”
That gets you to jolt up, rubbing sleepily at your eyes. 
“Are you okay? Anything hurt?” You shake your head, a small frown on your face when you see the fresh red marks that litter his palms. He has the feeling you’re lying to him again, but he doesn’t push it. A lot went unspoken between you two.
Minho wordlessly hands you over a full sleeve of crackers, your eyes lighting up. You chomp down eagerly on one, before pausing, holding it out to him.
“I already ate,” he lies, knowing he didn’t want you to sacrifice any kind of meal for his sake. He’d eat the less full sleeve when you fell back asleep.
Moments of silence pass between you, the soft sounds of your eating lulling Minho’s tired eyes to fall, becoming heavy with sleep. He rests his head on his knees, fighting back the shiver that night brought with it. 
A deafening roar breaks through the stillness, and you freeze, dropping the crackers to the ground. Minho is by your side in an instant, hand tentatively reaching out towards your shoulder. But he never closes the gap.
“Ten seconds,” you croak out, so softly that Minho thinks he might not have heard you. “If the distance that sounds travel is 343 metres per second, then ten seconds means it’s far enough away from us.”
The ghost of a smile twitches at Minho’s lips, and he wants to praise your sharp skills, considering he’d only ever been a pabo, but you’ve turned around and fallen asleep again, your back to him. 
Minho settles into the blankets across from you, watching you for a few minutes before his body is weighed down by the exhaustion of the day, knowing the exact same thing waited tomorrow. The end of the world was more boring than he’d expected it to be.
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It hadn’t always been this way. The chaos had naturally broken through the quiet, starting one night when a fire broke out in his apartment complex. Amidst the screams and sounds of windows shattering, Minho’s only concern had been the cats, scooping them up, taking special care to cover their ears from the blaring alarms. But all of it hadn’t made a difference anyway.
He thought it was his neighbour at the end of the hallway. Or at least, it looked like him. He’d always had some sort of disdain for the man - in Minho’s eyes he talked too much. Always interrupting him during his morning mail runs to brag about his latest conquests when it came to dating. It was a sore spot for Minho, especially considering his own romantic interests were so singular, something he didn’t want to get into whenever his neighbor cornered him.
But the vain man who talked Minho’s ear off about sleeping with as many women as possible was nowhere to be found, lithe limbs transforming into ropes that broke through the ceiling. Heading straight for Minho.
Somewhere in the chaos, Minho briefly had time to register that whatever was in front of him was no longer human. And so, he did the only thing he could do. Run.
The floor slipped underneath him, hurtling Minho to the ground, the cat carrier thrown open next to him. Soonie, Doongi, and Dori are nowhere to be found. His palms claw against the tile, trying and failing to lift himself up, eyes widening when he sees the red that coats his palms.
“Please,” Minho croaks, attempting to break through to the human underneath the monster. “Don’t do this.”
There’s a brief flash, a spindly arm reaching out for Minho’s face, and he ducks. The sound of shattering glass follows, the grotesque body flinging itself out the window. Minho heaves, hot tears leaking from his face as he remains curled in the fetal position, arms braced over his head. When his breath returns to him, he looks over at the empty carrier and lets out a sob. Slowly, his eyes turn to the shattered window. 
Blood lines its jagged edges, dripping to join the mess on the floor. Peering downwards, Minho sees the mangled body of the thing (he refused to acknowledge it had been his neighbor) that had attacked him, unmoving. 
He had to get out of there.
The knock at the door startles you. It’d been days since you’d locked yourself away from the chaos, days since you’d heard a sound. But the screams would never leave your head. 
You’ve been huddled up in the same corner since it all started, exactly ten feet away from the door. Close enough to act quickly in case someone (or something) came knocking, but far enough away to duck into one of the rooms of your apartment for safety. 
However, the splitting pain in your ankle prevents you from doing either. The bruises are turning a nasty shade of yellow, mixing with the unsightly violet from before. You’re pretty sure it’s broken, your bookcase toppling over onto it the day this had all started.
The knock startles you again. It’s soft, gentler than the ramming you’d expected if a monster were to come knocking. But still, you could never be too safe. 
“Churu,” a soft voice whispers through the darkness, and you freeze. There was only one person in the world who’d know that word, and come knocking at your door.
Your palms burn as you drag yourself against the floor, taking extra care to make as little sound as possible. Fighting the urge to curse when the door creaks, you brace yourself against it, peering through the peephole. 
The banged-up face of Lee Minho greets you on the other end, and you nearly sob with relief. Swinging the door open, you take him in at the threshold, peering at you with a strange gaze. You’d often joked to Minho that his eyes resembled his cats’, curiosity mixed with having seen too much contained in their depths. But it seemed especially true today, his lip split open and face haggard while he clutched a baseball bat in his hand.
You know the first thing he’s going to ask before it even leaves his mouth.
“Are you hurt?” he huffs out, watching you collapse against the door frame.
“Junho is gone.” You watch Minho’s entire figure tense up when his best friend’s name comes off your lips, his grip around the bat tightening.
“I-, I tried to talk to him, but there was a weird sound on my phone that kept breaking us up, and then I heard him scream, and then…”
You collapse against Minho in a fit of sobs, forced to recount those awful last moments when you’d heard your boyfriend die over a phone call, the chilling screech of something that wasn’t human cutting off his screams for help. And you were trapped halfway across the city, crumpled on the floor, unable to do anything to help him.
Minho’s arms wrap around you, supporting your weight, and he’s moving you both over the threshold, taking care to shut the door softly behind him. You don’t know how many minutes you spend wailing against his chest, the sight of another human forcing you to confront the horror you’d dealt with in the past few days, but eventually, the pain in your ankle makes itself known again, and you slide to the floor.
Minho rests his head against the door frame, his own eyes red-rimmed, and you watch his face contort, trying to hold back the tears from falling.
“I’m sorry,” you blurt out, watching Minho’s gaze snap to yours. 
“What for?” he croaks. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“I’m so scared, Minho,” your eyes fill with tears. “I thought that no one would come for me, that I’d be alone here, and that I’d…”
You choke, unable to finish the sentence, and you watch Minho straighten next to you. The warmth of his hand wrapping around your waist startles you, watching his lithe body contort as he helps you up off the floor, taking special care not to put weight on your ankle.
“You’re with me now. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
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There’s a furrow in Minho’s brow when he hears your request, lips tightening into a thin line while his throat bobs.
“Absolutely not.”
The decision is final, resolute, stubborn — Minho’s arms are crossed over each other, and he stares down at your figure among the blankets, eyeing the makeshift splint currently tied around your ankle.
“Minho, please.” It comes out as a whine, years building in your eyes from the frustration of being trapped in the bunker for months on end. 
“I said no.”
Minho had dragged the two of you to safety not long after he’d found you, stealthily dodging the strange creatures that had begun to pop up on the city landscape. There was little in common between them besides their monstrous appearances, but Junho’s screams lingered in the back of your mind, causing you to wake up every night in a cold sweat for the first few weeks.
The tiny bunker became your new home, and Minho your roommate, forced together by circumstances beyond your control. You’d snapped at him when he brought up the idea of leaving, wanting to search for food and supplies outside. 
Unfortunately, your ankle made the final decision for you — Minho would have to be the sacrificial lamb, risking his life for you both. It filled you with an immeasurable amount of guilt, knowing he put himself in danger every day to provide for you both. But it also made you angry, the listlessness that had begun to brew inside you only becoming stronger when you felt more and more useless every time he’d come back with food and medicine for you and nothing for himself. 
Regret cut through you like a searing knife. Who was Minho to do all these things? He’d been Junho’s best friend, not yours. The relationship between you two had been cordial at best, Minho barely managing to string more than five words together every time he was around you. It always seemed to you like Minho stood at the other end of a vast abyss, impossible for you to reach in any way. Admittedly, you’d been no help in closing the chasm, even since you’d both escaped together, the pain in your ankle lulling you to sleep as soon as you swallowed the meds he brought every day. 
Your eyes flit to Minho across the bunker, holed up into the corner. You watch his hands rummage around in his pocket, pulling out a switchblade. The shiny metal gleams in the rays of the sun, Minho’s fingers enclosing around a lock of his messy, overgrown hair—
“STOP!” The switchblade clatters to the floor at the sound of your voice, Minho’s lips parting in surprise. A deep flush creeps across your neck, wondering what had prompted you to interrupt him in the moment. His eyes study you with a curious glint, a thousand questions hidden in them.
“You’ll dull the knife,” you manage to get out, amazed at the calmness in your voice despite your heart racing at a million miles an hour. “What if we need it?”
Minho’s lips twist up into a smirk, and you wonder if he can see through your thinly veiled excuse. If he does, he doesn’t say anything, throwing a baseball cap over the shaggy strands, smiling when they fall into his eyes. 
“Fine,” he acquiesces. “You can come along. But any sign of trouble and you have to leave me and get back here, okay?”
“What do you mean, leave you? You’re coming back with me, of course.”
“___.”
“Minho.”
You push yourself off the ground with your palms, hobbling over to Minho’s side. 
“Thank you,” you whisper softly to him, and Minho rubs at the back of his neck sheepishly, before the door to the bunker creaks open once more, this time the two of you stepping out into the sun together. 
. . . 
Sweat pools on Minho’s shirt, the sun beating down on the two of you while you make your way through the woods, eventually finding yourselves in a vast field. You’re slower than he is, trailing behind him while you skip on your partially healed ankle, but Minho finds he doesn’t mind.
In fact, he thinks he must look like a fool, the huge smile that threatens to take over his face creeping up every few minutes. Somehow, it feels different now, having you here with him. The sun’s rays feel less ruthless, and there’s the faint rustling of a breeze through the meadow. It's almost like he’s on an adventure, and not caught in an endless struggle for survival. He’s filled with the hope that maybe the two of you can come out of this alive. Together.
Pushing through the blades of grass, Minho pauses when he hears a small thud behind him, followed by the faint sound of wheezing. Turning on his heels, his heart turns to ice when he sees you, knees curled to your chest, the faint sheen of sweat lingering on your skin. 
“Shit!” Minho curses into thin air, crouching onto the dirt next to you. “Stay with me ___!”
His arm swings out to steady you, but recoils at the last second, not wanting to startle you. Guilt eats away at his chest when he realizes this is all his fault. He’d been the one to agree to let you go outside. Realization dawns on him that there’d been a reason you stayed in the bunker the entire time, his mind flashing back to the days you must have spent alone in your apartment, full of pain, wondering if anyone would show up.
Minho panics, looking around the field for something, anything that could help hold you over until this passes, when a thought crosses his mind.
“Do you want to hear about the time I tried to walk my cats?” He babbles out, cheeks hot at the silly interruption. It works though, your face jolts up, the trance finally broken. Your eyes are red-rimmed, hair dampened with sweat, snot running down your nose. Minho thinks you’ve never looked more beautiful.
“It was in a field just like this, I brought them out here with their harnesses,” he continues, the smile growing on his face when he sees the stream of tears that run down your cheeks dry up.
“It was a disaster. I thought Doongie ran away for sure, and Soonie just laid down in the grass on his belly, refusing to get up. Dori was the only one who took to it,” he reminsces fondly, a half-sob, half-chuckle escaping him at the memory, trying to soothe the hollow ache in his heart when he thinks of them.
“I wish I’d met them,” you reply softly, your hand resting on Minho’s shoulder.
“It was my fault,” Minho spits out bitterly. “Junho was over all the time, I could have introduced you. They would have really liked you I think.”
Just like I do.
“I hope we find them,” your voice is quiet, but there’s a resoluteness to it that surprises Minho. “They have to be out there somewhere, waiting for you.”
That strange feeling of hope bubbles up in Minho’s chest again, and he helps you up, fighting the burning in his cheeks when your hand remains clasped in his, the two of you hobbling through the field.
Half an hour later, and you’re stopped outside the remains of what looked to be a convenience store, completely ransacked. Minho ignores the emptiness he feels when he lets go of your hand to peer inside, his heart dropping at the bare shelves.
Behind him, a twig snaps, your sharp gasp echoing amidst the silence. The gleam of the switchblade is apparent in seconds, Minho pulling it out of his pocket.
The woman is whimpering, her gauzy white dress in tatters. His eyes trail to her hands, the discoloured nails offset by the glint of a fancy diamond ring, and for a moment, he could almost believe she’d just walked out of the church, beaming from the happiest day of her life.
But her eyes say differently. Hollow pools of black, nothing behind them. She’s one of them.
“___, run.” Minho commands, not even turning to look behind him. He hopes you’re gone already, hopes you won’t have to stick around to see this dark side of him, the one that was used to doing battle with monsters every time he left the safety of your little bunker.
But you’re not gone. Your hand wraps around his, lifting it up to study the switchblade in his hand. He looks into your eyes, full of fear but also sadness at the sight in front of you, and he wonders if you see yourself in her. What things could have been with Junho.
“I don’t think she’s going to hurt us,” you wrestle Minho’s blanched fingers off the blade. “We should just go.”
You pocket the knife, Minho’s jaw tensing at the thought of leaving the woman behind, unsure of the potential harm she could cause. He opens his mouth to protest, but realizes you’ve already begun to walk away, your slumped figure visible against the setting sun. You’re crying again.
The woman wails harder when she sees the two of you go, her cries echoing into the silent night.
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It’s cold tonight in the bunker. 
You shiver among the pile of blankets, watching your breath turn into mist in the frosty air. Teeth chattering, you look over to Minho. His pile of blankets is even more sparse than your own, and you catch sight of his own trembling figure. 
It’s cold, your voice echoes in the back of your mind, your feet dragging across the floor, the blankets dragging behind you. 
It’s cold, it echoes again, Minho stirring when you lay by his side, throwing the extra blankets over the two of you. His eyes go wide with shock when he sees your face across his in the darkness, studying the way your hair falls messily in your face, the rapid rising of your chest with every breath. 
It’s cold, it repeats a final time, your lips surging forward to meet Minho’s, a strange noise escaping his throat before one of his arms comes up to wrap around you, his other palm steadying him against the floor. It’s cold and Minho is warm, the heat from his body burning through you when his tongue traces your lips, before slipping inside, a low whine escaping your throat. 
You break away from him, flushed and shivering, but no longer cold. Minho’s hot breath fans against your cheeks, his thumb resting tentatively at the curve of your jaw.
“Touch me please,” you beg him, and his grip around your waist tightens, hands tracing circles on your side. His lips find yours again, thumbs slipping underneath the hem of your shirt, resting against the curve of your hips. You burrow your face into Minho’s neck, leaving featherlight kisses against his jaw, heat rising in your chest when you hear Minho hold his breath. Breaking away, you meet his gaze, the tips of his ears turning red. 
“Anything,” he whispers against your lips. “I’ll do anything for you.”
Sparks crackle in the air between you, the once stagnant air in the bunker becoming filled with frantic energy, you slipping a leg over to straddle Minho, him fumbling with the buttons to your clothes, pushing aside just enough to feel how wet you are. The fingers of his other hand trace under your shirt again, climbing up your stomach, thumbs brushing against the underside of your breasts before he tugs at your nipples. 
Sighing, your hips move against Minho’s hardness, pushing aside the worn fabric of Minho’s flannel to press kisses to his collarbones, his thumb working on your clit. Your back arches when he presses another finger inside, and the familiar burn of your orgasm begins to rise, building in your stomach.
“Let go for me,” Minho groans, and the deep growl in his voice has you hurtling over the edge, trembling as you fall apart on top of him. The two of you exchange shallow breaths, Minho’s fingers still buried inside you, and you feel your core begin to clench around them, whining from the oversensitivity.
“Please, please, can I fuck you?” Minho whispers, desperation in his tone. You nod, head spinning with everything that had happened, and you reach back under his sweats, fishing his cock out from underneath them.
He pushes into you slowly, groaning when he feels your walls widening to accommodate him. The two of you stay there for a few moments, catching your breath before you tell him it’s okay to move. His hips snap lazily against yours, fucking you slowly and deeply, soft pants and the sound of your wetness reverberating through the bunker.
You rock against him gently, and you reach for his hands, his warm fingertips slipping through your own easily, limbs tangling together in desperation. 
“You’re perfect god, you’re perfect, I love you, I love you so much,”  he slurs the words, the confession ringing in your ears, soft groans accompanied by the speeding up of his thrusts before he spills inside you. 
Lifting you off of him, his arms reach around your body to press you against him, his lips ghosting your forehead, and you feel the wet trail of tears on his cheeks. Eventually, his breathing slows, soft snores telling you he’s fallen asleep, but you remain restless for the rest of the night.
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The headache hits Minho like a freight train in the morning, as he stares up at the rust-covered ceiling. There’s a faint chill in the air, one that became even more pronounced when he woke up and you weren’t by his side, and he wonders for a second if he’d imagined it all, from the softness of your lips to the way the words he’d been wanting to say, waiting years to say spilled out of his throat, every kiss and laugh you shared with Junho burned into his memory. And all he did was look on, hopeless in his desperation. Until everything changed last night.
A loud clang startles him, and he jumps up, watching you throw a heavy sack containing the supplies he’d stockpiled against the walls of the bunker, your back turned to him. He lifts himself off his feet, padding softly behind you, his arm reaching out for you.
“Don’t touch me,” you hiss, words clipped and venomous, and you keep rearranging, completely ignorant to the way Minho stands there, unable to formulate a response, his tongue feeling as though it’s weighed down with lead. 
Rage lights up inside him as he watches you move around him, the silence making his heart freeze over, and he decides that he can’t take it anymore. It’s been months with you acting this way, cold and distant, refusing to let Minho in. Before, he’d been able to write off your happiness with Junho as an excuse, as a reason why he couldn’t let himself get close to you. But Junho was long gone.
“We’re not doing this,” he spins you around to face him. “You don’t get to walk away from me like that.”
You push against Minho’s chest with all the might you can muster, and he staggers back. The look in your eyes makes you seem like a wounded animal, ready to pounce.
“Why’d you say it?” Another push, the words leaving you in a broken sob. “Why’d you do that?”
You bat against Minho’s chest until he can no longer take it, grabbing both of your hands with one of his, pinning you against the wall.
“Because it’s true,” he breathes, looking past you through the window outside, unable to meet your eyes. “I love you ____. I’ve loved you this entire time, even when you were with Junho. And I hate myself for it.”
He lets go of your arms, stepping back, his shoulders beginning to shake with the force of his own sobs. 
“Why do you think I stayed? Why do you think I put myself in danger every day to make sure that you had medicine for your ankle, food to fill your stomach? Why do you think I go out there and kill every single monster I run into, because I need to make it back here, to be with you again?”
“You shouldn’t!” you scream at him. “What kind of life is this? Love should be the last thing on your mind right now, Minho! You should fucking worry about your own neck, and stop giving a damn about me!”
The words tear through you, because you know that if it weren’t for his love, you wouldn’t even be alive right now. And it hurts, hurts to think of how long he’s spent living like this, merely surviving, a wall of ice around his chest.
“You’re right, I shouldn’t. But I do. Do you know that these past few months, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been? What kind of fucked up logic is that? I have nothing, nothing in this world besides this stupid bunker and the clothes on my back, and it makes me want to sob with joy. Because I get you. I get a chance at life with you, after so many years of wishing for it, and knowing I could never have it.”
He falls onto the ground, tucking his head into his knees. 
“The universe gave me another chance,” he whispers softly.
Your blood turns to ice, and you crouch down next to him.
“What do you mean, another chance?”
He looks at you, and you finally see all the pain in his eyes come to the surface, everything that he’s kept bottled up inside.
“It should have been me,” he mutters, lost in his own head. “I told Junho about how I wanted to go up to you that night, how beautiful I thought you were, but before I could do anything, he was there. It ended up being him.”
Your head reels from his confession, and you think back to everything that’s happened through the years. All those memories you had with Junho, Minho lingering in the background, purposely keeping his distance. Memories that you could have had with him instead. Bile rises up in the back of your throat, and you back away.
“I can’t do this, Minho, not right now, I can’t–” 
“I know.” He’s at the door before you can stop him, one foot on the other side of the threshold. “Don’t worry about it.”
He leaves before you can even ask him to stay.
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Minho knocks back another shot, stomach churning when he sees Junho approach the pretty brunette, chatting her up. She’s batting her eyelashes and giggling at him, and he knows he should be grateful that his best friend is helping him out, on a desperate mission to cure Minho’s singleness.
But all he can focus on is you in the corner, nervously watching your boyfriend flirt with another girl, and Minho wants to vomit when he sees your lip tremble, eyes glassy with tears. 
He’d driven himself nearly mad with the fantasies about what he’d do if he was in Junho’s position, how much better he could treat you. But at the end of the day, that’s all they were. Fantasies. You two were happy together, and he had no place in it.
Minho suddenly remembers the shiny ring that Junho had shown him last week, tucked away in the drawer of his dresser, and decides promptly that he needs to step outside, the stale air of the bar burning his nostrils.
There’s a faint breeze outside, and it calms him, rewiring his muddled senses enough for him to plop down on the curb. Minho heaves, the alcohol coming back up his throat, but he tries his best to breathe deeply, like his therapist had told him. The pity in her eyes when he’d explained his feelings for you lingers in the back of his mind. You were a vice he couldn’t quit.
A shadow looms next to him, and Minho looks over to see you standing on the curb next to him, studying him curiously.
“Not a fan of cheap vodka?” you chuckle, taking a seat next to him, and Minho internally curses when he feels your thighs brush. He was too drunk for this. 
“Just needed some air,” he tries to laugh it off too. “Gonna have a killer headache tomorrow.”
“She was pretty,” the statement startles him. He couldn’t give less of a damn about the girl Junho was talking to, but it seems that wasn’t the case for you.
“Not interested,” he grits out. Not when she’s not you.
“You know, dating isn’t all it’s cut out to be,” you sigh. “I mean, there are good times, don’t get me wrong, but the bad times feel a thousand times worse when you care about someone. Like seeing your boyfriend flirt with another girl right in front of you.”
There’s a bitter edge to your words, and Minho surprises you, reaching over to cup your cheek and tilt your head towards him.
“Junho is a fool,” the words come out in a slow, heavy breath.
“Happy birthday, Minho,” you whisper, a small smile on your face, and Minho leans in, lips searching for yours. The kiss is quick, a brief graze full of shy reluctance, but you’re surprised you don’t back away, dizzy when he retreats, and missing the feeling of his soft lips.
You lean your head on his shoulder, the two of you lingering on the curb for a few moments, before Junho’s loud voice echoes in the background, startling you apart from each other.
“Hey dipshits, the party’s inside,” he drawls, walking over to swoop you off your feet. Junho presses a peck to your cheek, wrapping his jacket around you, and your eyes roam around frantically, looking for any sign of Minho. But he’s already gone, the faint outline of his leather jacket the only thing you see before he disappears around the corner of the bar, vanishing into the night.
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Minho stumbles through the forest, the pounding in his head only growing worse, the memory of the kiss you’d shared consuming his thoughts, splintered with snippets from the conversation with you. The one he’d been waiting so long to have.
The spell had been shattered, and Minho thinks he’s foolish to imagine that it could have lasted, the two of you playing house together, and he cursed the false hope he’d harboured for so long. It was a fucking apocalypse, you were desperate for release, and you’d never cared. Not like he did.
But then his mind flashes back to the kiss, and he doesn’t know what possessed him that night, or possessed you to return it. The moment was the single spark that kept the flickering flame of his love for you going, even now, when you’d basically banished him.
A sharp pain surges through him, and Minho staggers to the ground. He clutches the fabric of his shirt, lifting it up to see the ugly wound he’d been letting fester for weeks, a stray swipe from a monster he’d run into. It’s pulsating now, stabbing into his side, and he wants to kick himself. Why had he been so selfless?
Sometimes, he thinks loving you was the worst decision he’d ever made, the way it consumed him completely. He thinks that maybe if time could reverse, and he had a second chance, that he’d never do it, never lock eyes with you from across the party, your smile forever etched into his memory. But that was a lie. Minho knew he’d do it all again for as long as his heart continued to beat.
Minho feels something squelch on the ground below him, a metallic tang hitting the back of his throat. He swipes at it, crimson coating his fingers. Blood. His blood. He presses a tentative hand to his face, swiping at his leaking nose, but the bleeding won’t stop. There’s too much of it.
Minho screams when his spine cracks, the pain splitting through his entire body, and he feels his eyes roll back into his head. 
When he opens them again, the world is dark. And he runs.
. . .
Your lungs feel like they’re going to collapse, parched for air as you make your way through the forest, wobbling through the trees, looking for something, anything that could lead you to Minho. 
Your heartbeat echoes in your ears, accompanied by a ringing that hasn’t ceased since you left the bunker. The decision still made your stomach turn, afraid to confront the outside world without Minho by your side, but you had to find him. Had to let him know that you wouldn’t let him suffer anymore.
Mind lingering on a specific memory from Minho’s birthday, you realized there’d always been a strange undercurrent between you, even when Junho had been around. Despite how many times he drew away from you, you never let him escape completely. At first, you’d thought it was because he was Junho’s friend, but it all changed after that night outside the bar, your attraction to Minho settling in your chest like a lead weight.
You think back to the months you’d spent together, the world falling apart around you, and how Minho had become your entire world, the reason you’d continued to hope. How you’d fallen in love with every part of him, from the way he’d let you take the first share of food to the messy strands of his grown-out hair. 
The wind whips through your hair, the dense cover of trees thinning around you, and you stumble upon the meadow, a lone figure illuminated in the moonlight. You know it’s him.
“Minho!” you scream, watching as he stumbles across the field in response, trying to get away from you. “Minho!”
You scream until your voice runs hoarse, fighting through the pain in your ankle, and eventually, Minho draws closer and closer, collapsing in the middle of the field. His back is turned to you, and he ducks his head, avoiding your gaze.
You think he’ll run away when you approach him, but he remains lifeless, as still as a statue. Crouching down beside him, you lift his chin, turning his face up to you, a gasp caught in your throat at what you find.
There’s something wrong with his eyes. They shift from the dark brown irises you’d come to know to hollow pools of black. His face is smeared with blood, and his breathing is shallow.
“____, you have to go, I’m turning, it’s not safe, I’m not safe–,” Minho grabs your arm, looking at you with desperation in his eyes. His speech is garbled, but you can hear the gentle tone of his voice still trapped inside. He’s still Minho.
“How dare you tell me to run,” you hiss at him. “How dare you tell me to leave?”
“You don’t understand,” he growls, hands shaking in rage. “I’m a monster!”
Fear strikes you at the realization that something was very wrong with him, something neither you or him had ever been able to anticipate. But it’s overcome by a stronger, more profound emotion.
“I don’t care,” you take his face in your hands again. “I love you, Minho. I loved you through the world ending, and I’ll love you through this. Because your life is mine now, just like mine is yours. It’s our second chance. And we will do whatever it takes to survive.”
Minho clasps your hands in his, fingertips rubbing against your knuckles, and you smile when you notice that his eyes are normal again, no longer filled with darkness. Maybe there was a chance.
“We’ll head west,” Minho rests his forehead against yours, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “I saw a hospital nearby. Maybe there are other survivors, people just like us.”
You nod, throwing your arms around him and burying your head into the crook of his neck. The two of you would exit west as soon as the sun rose, ready to start a new journey together.
Perhaps the life you shared was far from perfect but you realized that you’d clutched onto it as desperately as him, because he was the only thing you had. You were each other’s home.
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a/n pt. 2: As always, any feedback or comments are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi 💜
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hell0mega · 2 months ago
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i think we as a society have slept on Lost AUs. imagine the entire cast of your favorite show or all of your OCs or literally just inserting your guys into the Lost cast where they've never met and they're in a plane crash and end up on a weird supernatural science fiction riddled island that brings out the worst in everyone and forces people to confront their past and actually a lot of the characters ARE involved in each other's pasts and they didn't even know it and they have to forage and hunt for food and fall in love and there's leftover secret cold war era science experiments and time travel. like. imagine how unhinged these 300k lost au fics could be if more under the age of 40 have watched lost all the way to the end
it just got put back up on Netflix btw
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arikihalloween · 11 months ago
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Wakfu art dump because yes
This post is gonna be super long because I will ramble IN DEPTH today
So huh if you like my rambling or my art just read ig, otherwise scroll away idk what to tell ya
Showing some of my art and ramble because wakfu is part of my current big 3 hyperfixations ( along with WH and Trolls )
So huh enjoy my growing insanity ( I compiled it in one post to not annoy people too much :')
Presenting my oc Sharm !
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An (very pink) Eliotrope
She's based on my in game character but I kinda gave her lore and a story so
⭐INFODUMP about Wakfu in general ! ⭐
Basic infos for those who don't know anything about Wakfu :
Wakfu is a french animated serie made by the studio Ankama, who also made several mmorpg games ( and way more, like the amount of content and lore is crazy)
Most of the stories will take place on the World of Twelves, populated by 12 main races (with many variation)
And there is a 13th "main race", the Eliatropes, which is the race of the main character of the anime, Yugo
Eliotropes ( with a o instead of a) are a subrace of the Eliatropes ( lore is explained in the serie but I don't wanna spoil, so to boil it down, Eliotropes are unstable pale copies of eliatropes) [ they are playable in the game wakfu]
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So, what about Sharm ? Well she was born a pretty regular Eliotrope. She had two "brothers", Chance and Vitali, who unfortunately ended up fading away with time ( mechanically, when an Eliotrope die, his/her essence will go to the nearest Eliotrope to allow them to live longer)
So Sharm was left alone for very long, and stayed in Eliatropes ruins she found. Those were overgrown by stasis ( type of crystals, very bad, generally associated with corruption and destruction)
However, the essence she got from her siblings passing could only last so long
One day, in a desperate attempt to not die, Sharm took stasis and...ate it. Chewed on the mf crystals, and surprisingly, an interesting reaction occured : it stabilised her essence. It also made her basically frozen in development, Sharm cannot grow anymore and her power levels are quite limited in quantity, unless she uses stasis.
So my girl went through the ages, she kept on researching on the remnant of the eliatrope race ( wiped out aside from a few) and became sort of an archeologist
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Nowadays, Sharm travels from a country/city to an other, often with mercenaries she hires as bodyguards . The other two ocs in this sketch page are the said mercenaries
And the cat is called Noiraude !
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Sharm needs protection because she is stupidly useless in combat
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
And also I have fanarts of Nora !
And also, it's time for the gremlin mode
The worst of the ramble
I kinda just need to scream for a moment
Beware, big spoilers for the serie ahead ! Stop now and go watch Wakfu !! It's all on Netflix ( season 1, season 2, then the 3 oav, THEN season 3 and you will be ready for season 4 :D)
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So, this character is Nora (second drawing is a headcanon version of her)
Who is Nora ? She is the sixth eliatrope of the Council ( Eliatropes are rules by the six first borns of the race who can reincarnate along with their dragon twin)
Nora appeared for the first time in a flashback the episode "Quilbi" in season 2
In 2011
And back then she was in a flashback, so presumed dead from the war that wiped out the Eliatropes
BUT
Lately, as clips and trailers of season 4 of Wakfu has been released
It's confirmed that Nora is there
She's alive
She's in season 4
*grabs u*
2011
She has been my favorite character of Wakfu since her one and only appearance, alright ?
And now
12-13 years later
She is real
SHE IS REAL AND ALIVE IN THE SERIE
*maniacal laughter*
I will not shut up about it
Prepare for the fanarts
*retreats to the shadows*
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multiversxwhore · 1 year ago
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Netflix n chill
a/n: Just warning you guys, this is unedited, it's another one of my nonsense one shots. Where here for a good time not a long time type of ordeal. I was just so desperate to create something, and this idea would not leave me once I thought of it. Then I found out that MBJ loves anime so here we are. Enjoy, please reblog, and comment.
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Pairing: Michael B Jordan x Black!oc
Warnings: None
Word Count: 1k
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
‘Kissin and hoppin they caught us, whether they like it or not, I wanna show you off…’ Doja Cat’s Agora Hills plays in the background. Mike had come over early that morning to spend the day with me. We were supposed to go out, but in the midst of me finishing up getting ready, things took a different turn. “Damn you look good, what’s that Fenty?” He stuck his head through the bathroom threshold, his chocolate eyes held something anamoros within them, and his lips were pulled back in a playful smirk. His dimples pressing into his cheeks adding a youthful flair to him. I turn the upper half of my body to him, in only my bralette and matching panty, his eyes drop to my booty. I grin as the beat drops again, he’s already taking off his denim jacket, and throws it over the door. 
“Hold my hand, you can hit while they watch boy.” I sang along to the words, and rolled my body to the tempo of the music, one arm in the air. I hike my knee up on the bathroom face bowl, and pop my butt back. Mike grabs a handful of me with both hands, he buries his face in the crook of my neck, and inhales my perfume. Butterflies flutter at the pit of my stomach turning into desire, and traveling down right between my thighs. It reminds me of the first time we officially met each other inside the Met. 
“Norielle Woodard! Look at you, you look ethereal. C’mon over here and talk to me.” Cardíerre Taylor-Johnson stood off to the side with a microphone in hand in front of a cameraman, and question cards in hand. Norielle carefully made her way over to her long time friend, and co-star, making sure not to trip in her heels. Seeing her cry for help through her almond shaped eyes, Cardíerre reached out a hand to steady Norielle. The theme that year was ‘All The Stars: Self Expression Through Fashion’ Cardíerre was fitted in a  Thierry Mugler dress. From the breast to waist is a golden plated cast, with pinkish-rose gold chiffon fabric. She looked like a Roman goddess. 
“You look gorgeous as fuck, what the fuck Cardi?” Norielle’s mouth dropped open, her eyes widened in astonishment, and took a step back to get a better look. Cardíerre let out an airy laugh, her smile bright, and her teeth perfect. Before Cardíerre could speak, Norielle’s eye dropped down to Cardíerre’s breast, “Goddamn.” She blurted out, the look on Cardíerre’s face caused Norielle to burst out into laughter. 
“Jesus Nori, my eyes are up here.” The two friends giggled for a moment, it took Nori a few extra minutes to contain her laughter. Cardíerre rolled her eyes as she’s had enough of the goofiness, finally the interview was on its way. They chatted for a moment about the Met, and how amazing it felt for them to be surrounded by so many of their idols. 
“So, we talk about fashion all the time, and how we try to incorporate our personalities into a bit of everything. Tell me what does tonight’s theme ‘All The Stars’ mean to you?” Cardíerre held the mic for Norielle to speak into. It didn’t take her long to think of her answer, “Well, if you think about the stars, and constellations in the sky at night, they all shine differently. Each constellation has a different shape from the other, and tells a different story, with a specific purpose. Ya know, I’m very dramatic, and I’ve been inspired by alternative, gothic like fashion since I was a young girl. So I was blessed enough to have been able to work with Alexander McQueen, and we collaborated on this dark victorianish design. And I just love it so much, with the  florentine neckline to show off my twins, it’s also vegan leather and it’s giving medieval.” Norielle paused to let out a giggle, she took a breath before she carried on, “So that’s what I think we are meant to showcase tonight as stars in our own right. Showing our individuality through fashion, and oh, how everyone looks so stunning. Everyone really brought it this year, and I’m gonna shut up before I start crying.” Norielle pulled a tissue from her small clutch and dramatically damped her eyes. As the interviewer is wrapped up, and the two said their goodbyes Norielle made her way towards the notorious red carpeted staircase that led inside. 
All was going well, she moved up the stairs slowly, or as slowly as was humanly allowed without looking like you were on an acid trip. She stood mid way up the staircase, posing so that her curves were more defined, she gave the photographers as many pictures as she could. Eventually enough was enough. By the time Norielle turned to take another step up she missed a step, and tripped. In an attempt to not fall face first she put her arms out in front of herself, and it did soften the blow. Audible gasps of shock, and worry could be heard all around her, she wanted nothing more than to be swallowed by the stairs. Only a few seconds had passed —though it felt like an eternity—when someone’s large hand gently touched my shoulder. Norielle lifts her head to see Micheal B Jordan standing over her with his other hand extending in offering. When their eyes locked something like a static shock sent a wave of rejuvenation through her nervous system. She knew he too felt the same thing, he looked taken aback by their sudden connection. Norielle took his hand, he grasped her firmly, and let her weight lean on him as she pushed herself upwards. 
“I just embarrassed the fuck out of myself.” She whispered with a shaky voice, eyes burning with unshed tears, and a nervous smile on her glossed lips. Still holding onto her hands, he gave them a reassuring squeeze, and held her gaze. “Don’t even focus on that, let’s keep moving up, and then we’ll be inside.” Wordlessly Norielle nodded her head in agreement allowing Micheal to link arms with her as they ascended the stairs. Her heart was pounding so hard it nearly caused her pain, but then his voice began to speak calming words in her ear. In the midst of all the camera clicking, eager photographers fighting for the best shot, and buzzing conversations, they clung to each other the rest of the night. 
When the night wrapped up, Cardíerre and the rest of Norielle’s friends were stealing her away for the evening. She managed to get his phone, and add herself as a contact as ‘Nori.’ When he called her at 5am the next morning they talked for hours, the beginning and of an inseparable relationship. 
I planted glossy kisses all over Mike’s face, pressing my lips to wherever she could. His muscular arms pull me in impossibly closer, my arms wrap around his shoulders. Some would say our relationship is dramatic, but I would call it passionate. “So I take it we’re not going out anymore?” His grip relaxes upon hearing the strain in my voice, his lips graze over the shell of my ear barely kissing it before he pulls back. “Yeah no, I’m not feel it anymore baby.” He apologizes sheepishly, a feeling of relief washes over me because once he came in here with his bullshit I was no longer in the mood to be outside in the public either. That’s just how our relationship went, majority of the time we’re the same person, and I couldn’t be happier about it. 
“Raising Canes?” I offer playfully, a knowing grin growing onto my lips, Mike pulls back, and his own smile mirrors mine. The dimples in his cheeks become more prominent, he dips his head down to kiss both of my breasts, the giggle that came from me turns into full laughter. “You go get changed, I’ll finish getting ready and we’ll just go get food and come home.” I pushed away from him halfheartedly, only after sneaking one last kiss from me did he leave me be. 
On our way to Raising Canes the radio blasted too loudly for either of us to hear how terrible we actually sounded. I turned it down for a moment and turned to him from the passenger side of the car. “So, what do ya wanna watch while we eat?” We pulled into the drive through, as we sat in line, and waited for our turn to order Mike thought hard about it. A smile breaks out onto my face, I can practically see him doing the math in his head. “Hey, I take my tv watching to eating ratio very seriously.” He quips half heartedly, finally after what felt like forever he lets out a breath, “You know what I’m gonna say right?” 
“Naruto?” I guessed without hesitation, now his smile mirrors mine, he leans in closer to me from his side of the car, his lips curl into a smirk. “Me, and you…right here.” He taps his temple with his index finger, and extends his hand for me to dap him up. “Same wavelength baby.” The hand slap turns into the fireball jutsu hand sign from Naruto, Micheal took what felt like hours teaching me that, so best believe we use any opportunity to do it. When it was our turn we ordered our usual combo meal, with extra fries, and sauce, then made our way home. As soon as my feet touched the inside of the house I was already sliding my shoes off, and removing my sweat pants. I got comfortable on the couch as I waited for Micheal to settle next to me, when I turned to see his bare legs I nearly choked on my spit from laughter. “What? I wanna get comfortable too!” I didn't even respond to him, instead I turned my focus to the tv, and turned on Netflix. Relaxing on the sofa, and watching anime, in my underwear was not how we thought the day was going to go. But I’d rather be doing this. Three episodes in, and half eaten take out, We were cuddled up on the couch in the living room with the tv blasting. I had just begun to doze off when I felt Michael hand slip into my underwear, and squeeze my booty. When I look up at him, his eyes move from the tv to me, the lust from earlier had crept its way back in, and I knew he wasn't going to let me sleep till he ate his desert…to be continued
Quick tags: @cardierreh15 @insatiableorsmthn
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ereardon · 2 years ago
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My Girl [Chapter 10][Jake "Hangman" Seresin x OC]
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Summary: Jake Seresin could be the answer to all of your dating woes. He’s the full package: steady job, mature, dependable, attractive to a fault. The polar opposite of every guy your age and he’s everything you’ve ever wanted in a partner. But there’s one roadblock: he’s a single father to four-year-old Ellie. Jake is looking for a level of commitment you’re not quite sure you’re ready to give, and he’s not willing to bring someone into his daughter’s life who isn’t there for the long haul. And even if you are stepmom material, is Jake ready to let someone back in his life while still mourning the recent loss of his late wife? 
Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x OC [Lawyer Natalie West]
WC: 2.2K
Warning: Age gap, cursing, light smut
Series masterlist here
Please fill out this form here to join my tag list
“Not again,” Rebecca groaned as she approached your desk, the lavish bouquet teeming with roses perched precariously on the edge. You scooted it inward to safety and looked up at her with a grin. 
“Sorry.” 
“You so aren’t,” she said, stooping and smelling a bulb. “I think Harris has a literal Netflix and Chill night planned for us. How lucky am I?” 
“You are lucky,” you said, swinging around in your swivel desk chair to face her. “He loves you. That’s lucky.” 
“Safe to assume things are going well with pilot dad?” she asked and you chuckled. “I would say so, based on how beautiful these flowers are.” 
You had always prescribed to the rule that you shouldn’t complain about significant others to friends or worse, family. Because then all they would ever be able to see would be the negatives. It was much easier to forgive your own partner than your friend’s or family’s partners. 
So you simply nodded. 
“He’s great,” you smiled. “And I love Ellie. Like truly obsessed with her. I know I said I was afraid of kids but she’s barely even a kid. She’s just this sparkly little person who always gets excited to see me. Like a dog come to life.” 
Rebecca laughed. “So you’ve yet to see a tantrum?” 
“Not yet.” 
She stood up and straightened her skirt. “Oh, sweetheart, just you wait. They’re cute, until they’re not.”
You grimaced. “Not eagerly awaiting that.” 
“So what are your Valentine’s plans?” 
You shrugged. “Jake just said he’s picking me up at six and to wear a dress. That��s it.” 
Rebecca raised an eyebrow. “Curious. OK, I expect the full details on Monday.” 
“I promise,” you said, crossing over your heart and you could hear her warm laugh as she sauntered down the hallway. 
You smirked but as Rebecca’s long legs disappeared around the corner, she was replaced by Patrick’s hulking presence. You sucked in an involuntary breath, anticipation tight across every pore. He shot you an unreadable look before hooking right into a conference room. You let your breath out in a shudder. 
It had been nearly a month since your face-to-face with Patrick. So far there had been no repercussions, no discussions with HR, no threatening emails, no taking you off of accounts. Somehow it had been swept under the rug. 
Perhaps it had been, for him.
In your head, you were plotting revenge. 
***
The doorbell rang exactly at six. You ran your hands down the sides of your pink dress, smoothing the tight fabric that fell from the off-the-shoulder sleeves down to your knees, the slit in the back letting air travel up mid-thigh. For some reason, you felt nervous. Your feet shook a little in the tall silver Louboutins. 
Immediately, Ellie’s voice filled the hallway as you pulled open the door. 
“Wow!” she said, awestruck, her tiny mouth open in a perfect “O” shape as she looked up at your dress. “You’re so pretty.” 
You chuckled and bent down, pulling her into a hug, her fingers finding traction on your neck beneath your curled hair. “Hi peanut,” you said, standing up and taking in her sweet outfit: a small red dress with a pair of matching glittery shoes, a bow in her hair that was slightly crooked. You reached out immediately and set it straight, finally looking up to see Jake lingering behind Ellie with a grin spread across his handsome face. 
He was wearing a navy shirt tucked into a pair of navy dress pants, a dark green crocodile belt slung around his narrow waist. You leaned over Ellie and pressed your lips to his cheek. 
“Hey there,” you whispered. 
“You look amazing,” he said softly. Ellie bounced at his heels. “Ready to go?” 
You nodded, grabbing your purse and a wrap from the stair banister before following them out the door. 
Jake had somehow found a fondue restaurant on the beach. Ellie was having the time of her life dipping bread and carrots into the melted cheese, and when dessert came around Jake let her choose two different sauces until she had both milk chocolate and white chocolate peanut butter remnants smeared across her face. 
You held her in your lap once she had gorged herself on the chocolate dips, her eyelids already growing heavy. In the distance, the waves crashed onto the shore, a constant drumbeat that threatened to lull you to sleep, too. 
Jake smiled at you over the table as you lifted a glass of wine to your lips. “Thank you,” he whispered. Sometimes it was hard to reckon with the fact that he was so insanely attractive. Even the smallest thing, like when he would smile at a waiter or the nimble flick of his wrist as he signed a check, underscored how gorgeous he was. Every time he looked at you was like a pinch me moment. The fact that he was yours. The fact that he had chosen you. 
“For what?” 
Jake’s eyes trailed down to Ellie, who had her head tipped back against your chest. She was either asleep or close to it. “I’m sure this isn’t the Valentine’s Day you had dreamt of,” he murmured. 
You reached out one hand to grab his on the table, intertwining your fingers. “It’s perfect.” 
A softness overtook Jake’s face. “I love you,” he said and it was so natural rolling off of his lips. But one look into his clear green eyes and you knew he meant it. He meant it with every cell in his body and every breath in his lungs. He was your heart, now. You were tied to him. 
Back at the house, Jake carried Ellie gingerly from the car inside, putting her to bed after changing her out of her little red dress. There was a new stuffed walrus on her bed and you smiled as she rolled over in her groggy state, pulling the plush toy into her arms and falling fast asleep. 
You followed Jake downstairs, where he pulled out a small bluetooth speaker, hitting play and instantly the quiet, dulcet tones of Frank Sinatra filled the living room. “Dance with me,” he said, holding out one hand. 
Jake wound one arm around you, the other hand holding yours tightly between your chests as you swayed in a small circle. You laid your head on Jake’s chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. When you pulled back, he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours and the world stopped turning on its axis for a moment. 
There, in his living room, with Ellie sleeping gently upstairs and The Way You Look Tonight cooing into the evening air, you felt it. The way your world shifted, if just for a moment. Letting Jake in. 
It was like up until that moment you had been filling a single journal page, and suddenly, Jake’s lips dancing across yours had flipped the page and you were starting anew. And there was nothing there but Jake. Just Jake. Lines and lines of descriptors for how his hands felt against your waist and the heat of his skin on yours and the dreamy way he looked into your eyes and you knew that you could trust him with your life. 
Your life had split in two. Before Jake and after Jake. 
There was no going back. 
“I love you,” he murmured into your hair, your fingers curling around the hair at the nape of his neck. “God, I love you. Watching you with Ellie tonight. How did I ever find someone so perfect?” 
He pulled back, running one finger over your cheek. 
“You’re it for me, Natalie,” he whispered. “I didn’t think I would find it again, but I did. And thank God it’s with you. I am so ridiculously lucky that it’s you.” 
“Find what?” you asked quietly. 
Jake’s green eyes softened. “True love.” 
And then he leaned back down and pressed his lips against yours, gathering you into his arms, carrying you effortlessly upstairs and laying you down on the bed. The heat of Jake’s lips traveled across your neck and down your chest. He lingered for a moment on your lower stomach, like he would if you were pregnant. You could almost hear the thoughts clicking around in his mind. He wanted another kid. He was an amazing dad, you had no doubt that he would be the perfect guy to have a baby with. But before you could get too in your head, Jake’s lips dipped lower, his teeth nipping softly at the plush skin of your inner thighs before he pushed aside your silk thong, running his tongue across your wet folds, forcing a sigh out of your mouth as he took one hand and pressed your hips back into the bed. 
“Let me make you feel good, baby,” he murmured against your heat. “Let me worship this body.” 
And you let him. 
Let him bring you to orgasm on his tongue, let him run his hands all along your trembling body, let him hold your hips so tight you were worried you might bruise as he slowly slid his cock inside of you as you clenched down on his massive length. Let him fuck into you while you buried your sobs of pleasure into the silk pillowcase, let him flip you around until you were on your knees and Jake had your back pressed against his chest, his mouth filling your ear with soft praises. Telling you how much he loved you. That you were made for him. That he never as long as he lived wanted to put his cock in any other woman, that you were it for him. You were the appetizer and the main course and the dessert. That no one else could compare to the way you felt around him. 
You let him spill inside of you, his grunts heavenly in your ear, his hands gripping your breasts tightly, his chin falling to your shoulder. 
And afterward, you let him pull you in close beneath the covers, run one hand across your side before landing on your neck. He pressed his lips to his favorite spot beneath your left ear and you wondered if the white-hot heat of his kiss would leave a mark. It felt like it was tattooed on your skin. 
“Natalie?” he whispered as you started to drift off to sleep. 
“Hmm?” 
“Happy Valentine’s Day.” 
In the morning, you rolled over to an empty bed. The smell of pancakes wafted through your nostrils and you pulled yourself out of bed and down the stairs to find Jake and Ellie standing at the stove. He had her in his arms as she sprinkled chocolate chips into the pancake rounds as they cooked on the griddle. She laughed as her fist opened and a shower of chocolate dropped into the middle pancake and Jake shook his head. 
“That’s way too much!” 
“No, daddy,” she said as he put her down. “It’s perfect.” 
“Good morning.” They both turned around with smiles and you stepped forward, accepting the coffee mug Jake offered. 
“Ellie, sweetie, why don’t you go get Nat’s present?” 
Ellie skipped off and you raised an eyebrow. “Present?” 
Jake simply smirked and turned back to the pancakes in the pan. Ellie returned a moment later, holding out a small rectangular present wrapped in silver foil. She took a seat at the island counter and you slid a finger under the wrapping paper, revealing a sleek Ray Bans box. 
“Now we match!” Ellie said, and you watched her slip on her tiny aviator sunglasses. You laughed, turning around to look at Jake only to find him also wearing a pair of matching glasses. You were laughing so hard you had to physically put your hands on your thighs to take a deep breath, coming to standing after a good twenty seconds and slipping the glasses on over your eyes. 
“I love them,” you said. “Thank you both.” 
“Ellie picked them,” Jake said, shoving the sunglasses back up on the top of his head and plating the pancakes. “Said she wanted everyone in the family to have them.” 
Ellie grinned from her place at the kitchen island, and you watched Jake’s smile widen as your mouth dropped open. 
Family. 
They were your family now. 
You looked around. The casual way that Jake slid two pancakes onto your plate next to Ellie. The soft smile he gave you as you hooked the sunglasses onto the collar of your sleep shirt. How Ellie washed her tiny, sticky hands in the sink using the stool that Jake had bought and helped her paint pink with daisies on it that lived permanently next to the sink so she could always reach the faucet. 
You had walked into a family. You had known that all along. But the fact that they wanted you made your heart swell. Watching Jake whisper into Ellie’s ear and tickle her beneath her thin arms, her laughter filling the sun drenched kitchen, suddenly made everything fall into place. 
He was the man you had always been searching for. And here he was, on a silver platter. 
Were you ready?
A/N: A fluffy chapter as requested! We will start to get some conflict in the next chapter. This one is short, because I wanted to get it out and soothe some souls from last chapter!
Tag list: @double-j @seresinhangmanjake @topguncultleader @hangmandruigandmav @momc95 @minamisulemisa @shawnsblue @blue-aconite @brehonodea @crthurston @angelbabyange @jason-toddsthighs @secretsicanthideanymore @taytaylala12 @mandylove1000 @mizzzpink @showmethewayhomehoney @tvjunkie08 @mygyn @wkndwlff @sadpetalsstuff @shanimallina87 @averyhotchner @oneelleandaneye @starrynightskyz @daddymack01 @buxkybarnez @pookie-cleary @clairedelarosa-blog  @princessofglitterland  @tiredqueen73 @lovingjakeseresin @lilyevanswhore @kurtkunkle17 @amortentiadrops @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @abaker74 @xoxabs88xox @novagreen04 @townmoondaltwistle @rosiahills22 @indynerdgirl @entertainmentgal8 @misshoneypaper @starkleila @ebonyhogan24 @rosewritesitout @sammysimpin @khaylin27 @localhockeygirl @eyesthatroll @wildxwidow @wildlyobserving @bellaireland1981 @wittywhispers-blog @xomrsalliej4787xo @rosiahills22 @oiseul @showmethewayhomehoney @callsign-joyride @teacupsandtopgun @jordanturpen @sexytholland @daddymack01 @pookie-cleary @eternalsams @djs8891
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fanaticsnail · 1 year ago
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Hi, could you do a romantic x reader oneshot Christmas theme 🎄 on Live action Roronoa Zoro 😍from- Netflix Series One Piece (Where the Straw Hats was seen throwing a Christmas Party at the Baratie where Zoro meets and falls for a beautiful traveler (who's Smoker's niece) who's on her way to Loguetown to visit her uncle. During the party as Zoro danced and flirted with the reader they was having a great time until they was finally alone together they ended up sharing their first kiss under the mistletoe which made the reader blush when she revealed that this was her first kiss)
(Details: The reader is Smoker's niece who likes to read, loves hot chocolate, loves animals, she's a vegetarian, her favorite color is blue, she's also a skilled archer and martial artist, she doesn't drink any kind of alcohol or liquor)
Hello my darling! Thank you for trusting me to fulfil your ask for a Christmas Zoro fic.
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And here I thought after the Straw-Hat Mistletoe Fic I'd be all done with Christmas-themed one-shots!
I apologise for the delay in response: I spent the past weekend a few suburbs more inland with my family because ✨christmas be christmassing✨.
I prefer my requests come from non-anons so I can ask a few follow up questions regarding the flexibility with some of the prompts.
I haven't had a semi-oc suggestion before, so this is uncharted waters for me to have not so much freedom to explore how the plot goes in that regard. I also tend not to have reader be related to anyone in OP due to not quite being as far in to the anime as I would desire to get a better read on the dynamic (and because I'm a flirt by nature 💀).
Prompt overview so far:
Smokers niece
Baratie fic
Dancing
Reading
Hot chocolate
Xmas party
Innocence
First kiss
Skilled archer
Martial artist
Vegetarian
Loves animals
Blue favourite colour
Mistletoe
I don't think I'll be able to incorporate so many elements in with this fic, but I'll aim to get as many as I can physically fit into it without breaking the integrity. I usually prefer for the "reader" to be up for interpretation.
Fic Mood Board:
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It may be more of a drabble than a full fic due to the proximity to the holiday period rapidly stampeding, and more ✨christmas be christmassing✨ will be had for me and my family.
Thank you for asking.
EDIT TO ADD: Fic completed. Something Like That here.
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honeybewrites · 6 months ago
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WIP Questionnaire Tag
Thank you @kaylinalexanderbooks for the tag and @willtheweaver for the tag!!
What’s the first part of your WIP that you created?
I guess the characters and world. I created EoWC so long ago it's kind of hard to remember what came first, but I do remember obsessively looking for a name for my main OC. It's actually the only name that hasn't changed in the series.
If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be?
I haven't ever actually looked into finding a theme song for it, but now I'm curious if I could...
What are your favorite characters that you made? Why?
703 is one of my favorites. She's been one of the most consistent characters since the beginning. Rage and Healer Asurr are also some of my favorites. They're both really fun to write despite their stark opposites. One of them is a lovely Dad Vibes character and the other is a deranged mad scientist obsessed with creating the perfect species.
What other pieces of media do you think your fanbase would share?
Oof. That's a hard one. Um, maybe something with a lot of gore/fighting/supernatural? Like the Netflix Witcher series or SPN maybe? Found family is also a pretty big theme so maybe some other media with that. I'm not really sure what other lovers to enemies media is out there, but I imagine that would also be shared.
What has been your biggest struggle with your WIP?
Plotting. I know how the story plays out, but getting it down into a useable outline is by far my biggest struggle. That and organizing the dozens of scenes I've written into a coherent timeline.
Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them!
Lots of animals! Some from our world and a lot created specifically for EoWC's world. But the main animal/species talked about is dragons. Their culture, subspecies, abilities. They are by far the most fleshed out species.
How do your characters travel/get around?
There's a lot of different ways. Ships are common, as they can fly places quickly and travel through Bridges to other Realms. Ground transports are used, mostly only in cities. There are smaller ones, like cars, and bigger ones, like trains to get across a Realm easier. But for smaller cities, walking is most common. Even in the larger cities, walking is still a common way to get around.
What part of your WIP are you working on right now?
Right now I'm trying to organize everything. I'm trying to get all the things I've written laid out to an outline and given an appropriate place in the series. Then I'll actually be able to see what scenes I still need to write and hopefully get a cohesive draft together.
What aspects (tropes, maybe?) will you think draw your audience in?
Um, dragons? I love books with dragons, maybe a little too much. But in all reality, I think the lovers to enemies is what will probably draw people in. I'd also like to hope my world building draws in a few people because I love it.
What are your hopes for your WIP?
I would like to get it published. Self published, just because I think that would be more fun. But really, if I could just finish it, publish it or not, and have one person who loved it, that would be enough for me.
Tagging @the-golden-comet @anaisbebe @fractured-shield @halfbakedspuds @diabolical-blue and anyone else that wants to hop on!!
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luaspersona · 2 years ago
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march bts archive ♡
a few reminders before you go to the recs:
⇢ the list is composed with 10 bts fanfics i’ve reviewed (reblogged) during the month! it doesn’t include: ongoing series and series i haven’t finished.
⇢ my blog is +18, so even if this list has some sfw stories please, minors do not interact!
⇢ feel like i missed a work? send me your fics for me to review too ♡
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Put it on me
authors ⇢ @jimilter pairing ⇢ jimin x reader genre ⇢ smut; humor; pwp; strangers to lovers rating ⇢ +18 | minors do not interact word count ⇢ 8k summary ⇢ When you signed up to model your cleavage for a jewelry commercial, no one bothered to tell you it wasn’t gonna be a solo shoot. It’s unfair being blindsided and you want to protest, but A-list model and flirt extraordinaire Park Jimin’s steel-cut abs have you kinda tongue-tied. And then you get kinda too busy thinking of other ways in which you’d like him to shut you up. why i loved it ⇢ honestly just straight porn, but super well written and with amazing descriptions and jimin is like, the sexiest menace alive, paired up with a ridiculously gorgeous reader. it’s unhinged and funny and i can’t get enough of it.  ⇢ my full review (with spoilers!)
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hey, it’s me.
authors ⇢ @yoongiphoria pairing ⇢ namjoon x ex!reader genre ⇢ angst; kinda lovers to exes rating ⇢ PG-13, but the MJ's blog is +18 only word count ⇢ 0.5k why i loved it ⇢ MJ has this amazing talent of conveying big, everlasting and devastating emotions with simple, delicate words. she writes a ridiculously small drabble and represents all the loneliness one can feel, and is so creative too! the whole voicemail concept from closer is used so cleverly here, this feels like a punch but in the best possible way. ⇢ my full review (with spoilers!)
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the one with yoongi, netflix, and zero chill
authors ⇢ @eoieopda pairing ⇢ yoongi x reader genre ⇢ fluff; fuck buddies to ? rating ⇢ +18 | minors do not interact word count ⇢ 1.1k why i loved it ⇢ if jade being the author isn’t reason enough, i wanna say this drabble has soft yoongi and delicate, domestic intimacy with a very confused reader lol, it’s super sweet and it’s a birthday story too 🥺 ⇢ my full review (with spoilers!)
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Double Take
authors ⇢ @magicshopaholic pairing ⇢ hoseok x oc genre ⇢ angst; idol!au; unrequited love; neighbors!au; brother’s best friend!au rating ⇢ +18 | minors do not interact word count ⇢ 11.7k summary ⇢ Years after telling the neighbourhood brat to get a life, Hoseok does a double take when he realises she’s no longer the skinny kid who worshiped him once upon a time. why i loved it ⇢ i don’t often read unrequited feelings stories, but this one is just… mesmerizing. the best coming of age story i read in a minute, and written with such eloquence and with such interesting stylistic choices! you take zero seconds to empathize with the oc and i think it was so worth it, it made me lay for hours trying to process exactly how it made me feel. it’s part of a series, but you can read it as a one-shot and that’s why i felt like i NEEDED to add it to the list: it deserves so, so much praise! ⇢ my full review (with spoilers!)
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Covert Affairs
authors ⇢ @minisugakoobies pairing ⇢ spy!jungkook x spy!reader genre ⇢ angst; crime; rivals to lovers; smut rating ⇢ +18 | minors do not interact word count ⇢ 4.3k summary ⇢ The five times you cross paths with legendary spy Jeon Jungkook. why i loved it ⇢ this was just so perfect, the teasing and tension between the characters was amazing 🥵 if you like that sherlock x irene dynamic of rivals who are attracted to each other you HAVE to read this — but pay attention to the warnings! ⇢ my full review (with spoilers!)
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all you’re giving me is friction
authors ⇢ @hot-soop pairing ⇢ surfer!seokjin x lifeguard!reader genre ⇢ travel!au; angst; smut; fluff; strangers to lovers to enemies to lovers. rating ⇢ +18 | minors do not interact word count ⇢ 28.3k summary ⇢ You’ve graduated! Congratulations - you’ve got one thing checked off your parents ten year plan! Now all that’s left to do is start your  dreary office job, drag yourself up the ladder to CEO, marry your (as yet unknown) dream guy, and carve out some time to pop out a few kids before your ovaries shrivel up… Except all of that sounds horrendous, and you’d much rather spend the next three months at Hoseok’s beach house with your closest friends - relaxing, partying, and sleeping late while you still can. And it would be your last perfect summer break, if it weren’t for the most irritating man on the planet (and his chickens) living next door. why i loved it ⇢ seokjin has chickens and he names them after league of legends characters, and i think that’s about enough evidence as to how amazing this story is lol. for real? i was laughing, i was smiling, i was crying: it gave me EVERYTHING i could’ve asked for ⇢ my full review (with spoilers!) 
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mixtape
authors ⇢ @jungblue pairing ⇢ yoongi x reader genre ⇢ college!au; podcaster!au; humor; smut; fluff; strangers to lovers rating ⇢ +18 | minors do not interact word count ⇢ 15.6k summary ⇢ Two mystery students from your college run the podcast dubbed ‘mixtape.’ It’s become a sort of phenomenon around campus, listened to by almost everyone. In their most recent episode they discussed various study methods… One of them being oh so tempting. why i loved it ⇢ this fic is just so unbelievably charming, istg. all the dialogue is ridiculously interesting, and yoongi’s dynamic and chemistry with the reader just made feel like a teenager with her first crush. is really fucking amazing, i was completely in love with the story right off the bat. ⇢ my full review (with spoilers!)
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the lingerie era
authors ⇢ @yoon-kooks pairing ⇢ yoongi x reader genre ⇢ neighbors!au; fluff; humor; smut; friends to lovers rating ⇢ +18 | minors do not interact word count ⇢ 10k summary ⇢ Sending Min Yoongi, aka your ridiculously hot neighbor/childhood friend, a photo of yourself in lingerie might be the best or stupidest mistake you’ve ever made. why i loved it ⇢ min yoongi teasing the hell out of reader and struggling to communicate like an adult is my favorite trope lmao. this story is so sexy and so wholesome and so fun and so— *ahem* anyway, this was 100% worth it, i loved every second 😭 ⇢ my full review (with spoilers!)
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liar, liar
authors ⇢ @eoieopda pairing ⇢ hoseok x reader genre ⇢ fuck buddies; smut; pwp rating ⇢ +18 | minors do not interact word count ⇢ 5k summary ⇢ Hoseok suspects that you’re “phoning it in” while sexting and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t call your bluff. why i loved it ⇢ dom!hoseok. that’s it. that’s the reason (ok maybe jade’s writing too because everything they touch is perfect but that’s beside the point), oh and so much teasing y’all, this is a dangerous one. ⇢ my full review (with spoilers!)
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what, now?
authors ⇢ @nabiolive pairing ⇢ jungkook x reader genre ⇢ fluff; smut (pwp); friends to lovers. rating ⇢ +18 | minors do not interact word count ⇢ 13.6k summary ⇢ For as long as you and Jungkook have been friends, your feelings for him have been unrequited. Or have they? why i loved it ⇢ to be honest this wasn’t in the list until yesterday, but then i decided to get through some of my trl and read this and… god, it’s just way too good. jungkook with freaking dick piercings and a sweet confession that leads to the most affectioned yer rough smut out there lol, please read this 😩 harrow is such an amazing writer i can't possibly stress this enough ⇢ my full review (with spoilers!)
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lostfirefly · 11 months ago
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You’ve Got The Same Dream as Me (Ch. 2)
Hello, kiddos! The idea for this fanfic came to me from a dream (again) I had about a month ago. Тhe main characters were Tom Cruise and Henry Cavill (don't ask me why), but with a light hand they have been replaced (sorry, guys). The main action of the dream took place somewhere in the sands. Аlthough this fanfic will feature Sir Crocodile and our beloved Buggy, the action shifts to the desert. No marines, ships etc. Sorry, not sorry :) The devil fruit's abilities are preserved. Catch the Mummy and Indiana Jones vibes :) I have no idea how many chapters there will be. Different titles and names from the original source material will be used to emphasise the general OP's vibe.
Since English is not my native language, errors may occur. As always, feel free to share your thoughts :) 
And thank you to my dear @yujo-nishimura and @laurasoretta for believing in me :)
Description: Catherine, a librarian who is searching for the trail of her sister who went missing on an expedition. Notes in books and diaries lead her to Cairo. There she finds a retailer from an artifact shop who, in exchange for selling her a map and equipment, insists that Catherine take her along. They get into a little (or maybe a big) adventure.. 
Warnings: 12+, I think. As always, no smut, angst, violence. Adventures and fun only. Buggy x OC, Sir Crocodile x OC.
Words: 770
The title is taken from «You've Got the Same Dream as Me» (Sonya Belousova & Giona Ostinelli) (One Piece, Netflix)
✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏
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Chapter 1
✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏
Catherine set her alarm clock for five in the morning.
She quickly washed up, drank coffee in her hotel room and hurried to the bookstore.
Even though the store opened at 9 a.m., she was on the porch at 6:00 a.m.
"God, I'm such an idiot. What if the book isn't there? Then what? I've traveled hundreds of miles to get here for nothing? No, it can't be", Catherine mumbled to herself, tapping her feet on the paving stones.
At 8 a.m., a figure began approaching the store.
Catherine squinted slightly trying to make out the man.
"It's a girl! Thank goodness it's a girl! Why I thought Rika was a man's name?", Сatherine's mind was spinning with all sorts of thoughts.
Finally, the girl with brown hair and green eyes came to the door.
"Hello, you're Rika, aren't you? I'm Catherine Mitchell", Catherine said, rising quickly from the steps.
"I'm very happy for you that you're Сatherine. But the store is closed until 9:00 a.m".
"W-wait... I need..."
Suddenly the door slammed shut in front of the bewildered Catherine's nose. 
"What the fuck?!", Catherine started knocking on the door. "Hey, you, open your damn door! Open it!"
Without waiting for an answer, Catherine peered through the small window near the front door and saw the girl quietly making tea. 
"Brown-haired bitch!", Catherine cursed and plopped down on the porch.
9 a.m. Finally, the click of the lock was heard.
"Yes!", Catherine jumped up from her seat and stormed into the store without a moment's hesitation.
"May I help you?", the girl asked with a smile. 
"Take that smile off your pretty face. Don't pretend like you didn't see me on the porch, bitch!" Catherine shouted, slamming her fist down hard on the counter. "Damn..."
"Are you ok?", the girl asked. 
"Fuck..", Catherine rubbed her wrist. "None of your business. Anyway, as I said I'm Catherine Mitchell. I know you have Professor Alabasta's book".
"How did you know about this book?", the girl was clearly surprised.
"It doesn't matter. I know you have it. I looked it up and your store is the only one in town that has it. How much is it worth? I'd be willing to buy it", Catherine tried to look more confident with her arms crossed over her chest.
"For the record, young lady, I'm Rika, the owner of this store and I don't need to be spoken in the tone like that", said the girl, wiping the dust on the counter.
"What? I...", Catherine took a deep breath. "Okay, I'm sorry", she said reluctantly.
"Oh", Rika said with a sigh. "Once again, Catherine Mitchell.. What are you looking for?"
Catherine tried with all her might not to lose her temper. She closed her eyes for a few seconds, took a few deep breaths, counted to five and continued.
"I'm looking for Professor Alabasta's book with a silly name "The key to the treasure". Please.. I read you have it". 
"Maybe I have.. or maybe not", Rika said, arms were crossed.
"Look.. My sister. She's gone. I'm looking for her.  One of the last entries in her diary points to the professor's book. Apparently, she's gone somewhere in the desert, but she's lost her trail. I came here to find her. Please...", said Catherine, her blue eyes were wet with tears.
"The desert? You mean.. the Sabaody Desert?" Rika asked, her eyes were widen.
"Yes!!", Catherine hurriedly pulled out the journal with the entries. "See? The coordinates in the journal point this way. But to get there, I need Professor Alabasta's book. And equipment..."
"Jesus Christ", Rika said, looking at the notes and scratching the palm of her right hand. "Wait... What exactly are you looking for? Your sister? Or something else?"
"Something else?" Catherine asked in surprise.
"Oh, God, don't tell me you've never heard of the treasure that lies somewhere in that desert. It's supposedly hidden in the area your coordinates indicate. It's not certain, but it could be".
"I'm not interested in the treasure, I just want to find my sister. Before I left here, I went through her bedroom and found this", Catherine put on the counter some maps, another diary and pieces of paper with various notes.
"You know, darling", Rika stretched, tapped her fingers on the table and cast a glance at Catherine. "I'll sell you the compass, the equipment, the map and whatever else you need, but I have one condition. I'm coming with you".
"Where are you going with me?"
"Shit! Where your coordinates point, you fool! I wouldn't turn down an offer like that. I'm an excellent map reader. But, frankly speaking, it's dangerous to go alone there. We need a guide to help us get there,", Rika leaned on the table, propping her chin up with her hands.
"Do you have someone in mind for us?"
"Uh, kind of.. Yeah", Rika scratched her cheek with her finger. "Tell me. Do you like the circus?"
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adeanthepurpledragon · 11 months ago
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My idea for a Pete’s Dragon AU story
I have an idea for a Pete’s Dragon AU story with Adean as the role as Elliott the Dragon and her best human child friend Billy as the role of Pete except Adean will be a former human now a dragon shifter and Nemo not being a orphan child inslaved by mean guardians or lost in the forest after his parents died, no, I want my human child character being Nemo from the Netflix movie Slumberland be supported by her uncle Philip but wishes to have a friend outside her family like her Uncle Philip and her father Peter who died at sea and was a former lighthouse keeper later to meet a big purple dragon named Adean Eris Micheals who was formally a normal human girl but now a form of a big lovable purple dragon who ventures along with Nemo through different worlds in the Dream Realm as well as different worlds in the waking realm.
Nemo rides on Adean’s back throughout the different realms in both the dream realm as well as the waking realm.
I think Adean and Nemo could be good friends and go on all sorts of adventures together as they meet new friends as well and different creatures while going on different adventures together while Nemo still has a a close relationship with his uncle Philip as well as him getting to meet and know Adean.
I don’t know yet it’s just a story idea that I might need to brainstorm out before I write it online on my Wattpad account but I also want to write other stories too outside of Adean and Nemo’s adventures together traveling to other worlds.
I might want to write other stories like of Brand New Animal, TMNT, Mighty Morphing Power Rangers, Pokémon, Digimon, Beastars, Disney and so much more.
So I just made a Brand New Animal of named Vaz Summers a coyote beastman oc that’ll fit in my crossover world of Brand New Animal and TMNT and so on maybe.
But so far I want to do this story of Adean and Nemo’s adventures together, I don’t have a title for it yet but I’ll try to get a good title in once I start brainstorming ideas for my story before I write it on my Storyist app then on my Wattpad account.
@kingnice1219 @drake-the-highlander @jaysmily2919 @alexcanine
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writingwenches · 3 months ago
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Please tell me about "Aegon & the Targtower family roadtrip"
WIP Ask Game Rules: Make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! Then tag as many people as you have WIPs.
this is the dumb dumb ficlet I wrote for them
THANKS FOR THE ASK, LOVELY DOVELY~ I needed to explore the relationship between Aegon and Aemond as friends, if I wanted to play out Aemond being extremely loyal towards Aegon in the future~ So, what brings siblings closer together? Having shared enemies and forced family bonding time!! SO, I watched the cute lil Netflix show "The Letter for the King" and there was a youth knight tourney and I just HAD to steal that idea and force our Targboys onto a horse-only roadtrip.
The WIP is the potential second chapter of the lil story, I have a list of characters that come up later as young adults in the Red Keep...also just know I always answer everything with a novel length post, oops~
Ryver Erenford 🏳️‍⚧️ – a transman knight, he is the eldest child to Lord Erenford, their lands are along the western shores of The Bite, on the Kingsroad, near The Twins/Freys. Erenford land is where my character Lyn was raised. Im going to make a whole post about Ryver's squad, because they are my favorite OCs Ive made lol. In this time of the story, Ryver was not fully seen as a "man" by his family. So, he was allowed to travel to the Youth Knight Fest with the Frey family, but Ryver had to present himself as a "pauper" from House Frey rather than the noble that he is, so Ryver was allowed to live how he wanted...but not as an official representative of House Erenford. Eventually Ryver is going to become known as "Red Ryver" for being a fierce fighter of patriarchy themed Wildlings/Hilltribes, because I just want to mentally watch Elliot Page rip the head off a TERF, bath in their blood, and vogue with their dismembered parts.
Waltel/Oswalt Frey – I changed his name to Oswalt after publishing the story, lol. Oswalt is the youngest boy of the Frey's. He is the world's most perfect ally as the story goes on, a cishet man who befriends a bunch of queers and gives them all his loyalty. At this tourney, an extremely important/pivotal event in the Realm takes place, something that will haunt him for the rest of his days. Rumors spread so fast and got out of hand and there was nothing Oswalt or the Freys could do...but then again why would they want to...SO, he was dueling, in front of a huge crowd, something "happens" and Ossy's pant split and...his opponent immedantly yields because Ossy's junk was legendary, full on Lenny Kravits, the crowd went WILD, its the only thing people in this era know about House Frey, it's everything the perfect LGBT+ ally deserves. [tromp voice *huuuuuuuge*] I couldn't think of a good face inspo for him and then I realized it could ONLY be Barry Keoghan.
[name] Lodge – I don't know what their born name was, but this character is part of Ryver's bunch. They are genderqueer, and will become the "lumberjack in a dress" vibe once able to live in Ryver's protected colony. Lodge's family owns a very popular Inn along a main road, the family has become relatively wealthy from their business, and they do not accept Lodge, so they will meet Ryver and pledge their loyalty to him. Lodge will eventually become known as "Lady Large" another fierce fighter with Red River and Oswalt Frey.
Petyr Royce – The current young Lord of Runstone, he became Lord when Daemon kills his relative Rhea Royce. Petyr doesn't care about Targaryen politics, and wants revenge on the white haired colonizers, he doesn't care which one, and he has found himself at a tourney with three of them. Idk if he's going to do anything in this story, other than make himself known as an enemy of our Targtower boys. He might come up later to try and seduce Helaena or the boys, just to shatter their hearts as payment. IDK, I haven't decided yet where he's going.
Avrag Snow/Stone – This is my character from House Stone, (just know about me that I get hella bored when there's only European cultures on my screen so idk about GRRM, we're making some non-European centric families/lands in this house) Avrag dreams of having his family be officially recognized by the Crown, so this will be his first venture to "prove himself", he has giant's blood in him, so his lad is huge.
[name] Lowther brothers – SO, this is where I'm stuck, I want to end this tourney with a few things, and ONE is Aemond killing his first person, TWO (maybe) is Aegon/Aemond accidentally burning down a city, and claiming it was on purpose. The Lowther brothers will be asses, mock Aegon and perhaps he general bullies. Aemond will defend his brother, and was a result one brother will die, perhaps also a fire started in their town and burns half of it down. Everything was an accident, but try to explain that to the living Lowther brother...he doesn't see it that way and will come up again later. I was thinking of making the brothers identical twins...just to make the angst even more angsty. His death and destruction will haunt Aemond through the story, but Aegon isn't much bothered by it.
AU Prince Daeron Targaryen – Ive seen lots of versions of him out there, but there was ONE thought that came to my mind when learning he was sent away to Oldtown at a young age to ward. In my AU it was clear that little Daeron was "overly feminine" and Alicent knew that Daeron would not survive the harshness of the Red Keep. Aemond is picked on for being "nerdy" what would happen if her sons ganged up on Daeron for being feminine? Alicent couldn't have that, so to save her youngest son she sent him away to a place that wouldn't judge him so harshly for his feminine ways. I see Daeron as a young gay man, something he knew from a very young age. And perhaps when they grow up, he will become a military general who has all his pretty boys wrapped around his lil fingers in a cute lil army polycule? LOL My face inspo for Daeron is Jack Wolfe.
TLDR, am I basically writing this entire thing surrounding a very very very important dick joke? Yes. Yes, I am. 🫡
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fallingforfandoms · 1 year ago
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Tag someone you want to know and/or some of your besties
@except4bunnies tagged me for my take on this lovely list, thanks so much!
favorite color: I don't have a specific one in mind, but I'm rather fond of black, green and red at the moment.
last song: "About Damn Time" by Lizzo because I'm still somehow now tired of it, even though I basically listened to the instrumental version for the past few days on repeat for ... fandom purposes ;)
last movie: Raiders of the Lost Ark - the first Indiana Jones film that I originally bought as a birthday present for my dad a couple days ago but came to love again for my very own reasons by the end of the first rewatch.
currently watching: Well, there are a few Tatort episodes left on my list, and a friend recommended "The World To Come" on Netflix which seemed quite promising at first glance, so, yay, looking forward to that!
other stuff I watched this year: Jumped on the Game of Thrones/House of the Dragon hypetrain very late (and for fic inspiration purposes at first) and loved it (apart from the infamous butchering of s7/8 of course). Also, still very much in love with "Daisy Jones and the Six". Go and watch that. The characters are awesome. The music is even better. And the enemies to lovers to enemies vibes are just ... yes. Yes, please.
shows I dropped this year: Started with the new season of Heartstopper and got punched in the feels for "you didn't have that kind of social bliss at school and the comparison hurts way too much" reasons. So, thanks, but no thanks, this kinda make-belief world ain't for me anymore, but y'all have fun with it :')
currently reading: Academic stuff that takes way too long to comprehend and that makes me feel guilty for even staring at some normal novel because I should be using my time more wisely, etc etc etc.
currently listening to: That's probably hella weird, but I love the concept of apps that read texts to you out loud. It's a great way to fall asleep to your favourite fanfics, or to find typos in the stories you've written yourself because the automated voice pronounces these words as oddly as they should be, given the faulty spelling. Highly recommending @Voice for that (I think @mistofstars mentioned the app once as well, at least that's how I know of it).
currently working on: countless WiPs that involve Wilhelmine Klemm and ... varying women, also the same old Ludwigshafen stories that will probably follow me into my grave. And lastly ... a best-of edit starring some of my all time favourite comfort characters. That one will probably be finished by January (exact date tba) and be way too long to be posted anywhere, but I'll just label this as self-care then :'D
current obsession/s: Fell in love with Bremen and Hamburg and Münster (the actual cities this time) throughout the last few weeks. And I had so many lovely little moments with random strangers on that trip (shoutout to the lady in the St. Pauli-Fanshop with all her Tüddelkram, to the guy I bought my Krabbenbrötchen from, and to Renate, the old lady on her way to Stralsund who chatted to me on the train for an hour and reminded me very much of a lovely OC by @all-my-worlds-a-stage that I still hold very close to my heart). And I simultaneously loved the fact that I was travelling alone and was completely free to do whatever I wanted. Yes please. Obsessed with these kinds of connections and trips. Want more of them asap. <3
Tagging @all-my-worlds-a-stage @cornchrunchie @mordsfesch @mistofstars @krejong @khalaris and anyone else who wants to join in! :)
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