#yes I'm still filling the prompts 🥰

[theangrykimchi]

46 for the Thorki kisses 💕💕💕 please, please, please!

Thor steamed into his cup as Loki's laughter reached his ears from the other side of the long mahogany table. His eyes were sparkling with mirth and even though he held a hand before his mouth to stifle the sound, his joy managed to travel across the open space of the royal gardens. Beside him, an elf was looking at him with open adoration, broad smile splitting his face into two at managing to make the otherwise aloof second Prince of Asgard react so openly to whatever it was that he said to him.

Emptying his cup of strong flower wine, Thor broke the vessel against the dusty ground, demanding another to be brought to him immediately.

The Alfish elf had been glued to Loki's side since the moment the Bifrost landed them on Alf a week ago. Never leaving the brothers alone except for them to retire for the night but then, as soon as they woke up, there he was, at the breakfast table, up high on the spacious balcony constructed into the massive Plane Tree Palace, monopolizing Loki with whatever it was that his brother found oh-so-interesting about him. Thor had considered grabbing the elf from his wiry arm and throwing him off the side of the protective wooden rails one too many times.

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[cissyenthusiast010155]

Hello darling. Hope you had nice day and that I'm not disturbing ☺️. Please drink some water, eat something and take your meds if you take any.

Now . Hear me out. Sub!Larissa x Dom reader. Larissa had really bad day and r comforts her. Slowly things heat up and basically ends in L drooling and moaning with every hole stuffed to the brim. (R is type of outcast that can clone themselves but it disappears at will) . Some fluff and aftercare as well. Cuz heavens know this woman deserves it.

My that sounds dirty 😂 I'll understand if you are uncomfortable with writing this love, no pressure. Have nice rest of the day/night.

💤-

Heyyy, 💤 anon!! Thank you for your patience. Yes, I love this idea 🥰 I love Sub!Larissa Weems content! And I won’t judge you, this is a safe, dirty-friendly space 💗 Anyways, hope you Enjoy!! ♥️

In Times of Need ~Sub!Larissa xFem Dom!Wife!Reader

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!, smut, strap-on fucking, eating out, body admiration, cloning, crying, kissing, drooling, anxiety, implied anxiety attack, stress, stress aches, overstimulation, etc.

Enjoy (;

Larissa walked through your front door and closed it behind her. You heard the click and your eyes flickered to the clock.

9pm… On a Friday…

She made it into the middle of the ground floor when she suddenly stopped.

“Hey Love!” You exclaimed from the kitchen.

But you got no response. You had heard the blonde come in but you hadn’t heard or seen her… Puzzled, you threw the towel which you were drying your hands with aside, and you walked into the living room which connected to the front hallway.

And there you found your wife, standing frozen in the middle of the hallway. Her shoulders were tensed, her lips pursed, her hands clutching her briefcase tightly, And her eyes were moving frantically from side to side.

“ ‘Rissa…?” You softly spoke.

Larissa’s eyes blinked and she was pulled from her thoughts back to you. She sighed incontently.

“I’m sorry, Darling… Lot of my mind…” her lips moved imprecisely in a combination sigh and mumble.

“Oh Love… Bad day…Lots on your mind…?” you comforted, lightly correcting her choice of words and coming up into her personal space.

Her eyes darted away and began its frantic movements once more. Your hand went to her cheek, caressing her face.

“Forgot my anxiety medication today…” Larissa whispered and nodded, her eyes still frantic and now starting to tear up.

Suddenly she dropped her briefcase. You sighed lightly and began to coax her out of her coat.

“I’m so sorry, ‘Ris…” you comforted the blonde.

You got her out of her coat, taking it and placing it away on its designated hook.

“It’s too much… I… no meds… got yelled at… I… c-can’t… think anymore…” the tall principal choked out.

You sighed and ran your hands lovingly down her shoulders, leaving your hands in an embrace with hers. You squeezed her hands reassuringly.

“Let me, Love…? Let me help…” you cooed.

The woman bit her lip and nodded.

“Deep breaths for me ‘Rissa please.”

Larissa listened to you and took a few deep breaths.

“Have you eaten?” You asked.

She nodded.

“Stress eating…” your wife mumbled.

Your face was filled with concern and care at her the more the blonde spoke.

“Alright, well let’s get you upstairs.” You softly cooed.

Larissa nodded and follows your lead as you brought her with you upstairs and into your shared bedroom. You placed the woman on the edge of the bed, sitting behind her. You began removing her tight pins, pin after pin, while also massaging her tight muscles. The blonde let out many small whimpers and sighs of pleasure along the way.

Once you had let all of your wife’s curls loose, you helped her stand up slowly. You unzipped her dress slowly, letting it pool to the ground. Once Larissa had stepped out of the garment, you took it and placed it in the laundry basket. You then guided the woman to the middle of the bed.

You laid down next to her, her figure inside yours, as you spooned her. One of your hands massaged her hair and scalp, and the other wandered her body, slowly massaging the tension away.

“Breathe, Baby… Deep breaths… Let me take care of you” you whispered into her ear.

Larissa let out a sigh of relief at your words. She felt safe in your arms.

“T-thank you…” she mumbled, a few tears threatening to fall from her eyes.

“Of course, Love… Anytime” you comforted.

At your words, the blondes tears fell down her cheeks.

“I… my make up… mess…” Larissa stammered.

“It’s alright, don’t worry about it…” you cooed, moving her body to face you and looking her in the eyes, “I’ll help you with that later…”

More tears flowed from the woman’s eyes as she nodded. You then placed your hands on her shoulder and hip, and lovingly pecked her lips, effectively picking up a good amount of her lipstick onto your lips. You then began to kiss her neck, transferring her lipstick from your mouth to her skin.

Larissa’s breath was evening out the more skin contact you made. You went back up to peck her lips once more, and then started kissing her shoulders, so that both her neck and shoulders were littered with kiss marks. After yet another peck to the lips, you marked the valley of her breasts with smudges of red. At this, the blonde moaned lightly. You looked up at your wife to check in with her.

“Is this alright…?” You gently asked.

Larissa nodded vigorously.

“Yesss…” she breathed out.

You looked up to the blonde and smiled at her response.

“You wanna talk about it…?”

You received a strangled sigh from her in return.

“I… I just have so much to do, all of time time…” Larissa whispers, “And it all piles up. I go to bed with things I couldn’t get done, then I wake up, and I’m behind because those things and ten others need to have been done in the days before” she rambled.

“I hear you, love… But remember, you’re doing the best that you can. You’re amazing, and you’re giving it your all.” You lovingly hummed.

“I just can’t remember the last time… a time where I wasn’t this stressed and—” the blonde’s voice chocked out for a second, before she continued, “and anxious… I just live with constant anxiety, my body aches all day long from the stress… Sometimes I wish I could just scream at the top of my lungs and get it all out” she answered.

Your face was filled with concern and care. You continued your administrations as Larissa let out all that had been bothering her. As you went on, she started to let out breathy whimpers and light moans more and more, while you worked the stress out of her body.

Eventually when Larissa had talked herself out for the time being, sitting up, you moved yourself to sit in between your wife’s legs. You then doubled yourself. Your clone moved to sit behind you, placing Larissa in between your clone’s own legs. Larissa’s eyes widened lightly and looked at the original you in question.

“Easier to cover more ground” you quipped with a light smirk.

You and your clone then took turns kissing the tall woman’s lips, then kissing, marking, littering her body with the lipstick smudges. Larissa leaned into both of your touches, lightly purring with delight. Her breathing had evened out. But you could still feel some tension in the tall blonde’s body.

“What do you feel for most of your day? What emotions do you carry with you the most, ‘Rissa?” You caringly asked.

Larissa let out a deep sigh at your posed questions. She had to think about it for a minute.

“I suppose… I feel trapped for great portions of my day… and I also feel lonely and inadequate…” she confessed.

Your heart ached at the words and meanings coming from your lovers lips. You wanted to take all the pain away from her, carry it on you back for her.

“Im proud of you for expressing yourself, love.” You praised the blonde, while unclipping her bra and removing it out of sight and mind.

Larissa sighed in relief at the harness of her breasts and back being relieved. You began to pay special attention to the newly visible skin, making your woman get goosebumps as you kissed her bare breasts. Your clone was massaging the parts of her back, which were sore from her bra.

“Can you tell me a bit about what it’s like for you to feel trapped…?”

You heard her take another shuttered, deep breath, needing a moment to compose herself, before going to answer your question,

“I feel— I feel like I’m stuck in a loop or tornado, where I can’t get out. No matter what I do, I never do the right thing. I can’t change anything. I can’t satisfy what others need of me, even though that’s all I try to do, all day long…” she vented.

Tears has started to come back to your wife’s eyes. She was trying to hold them back as best she could. You kissed each tear away as it fell down her cheek.

“Hey, hey… It’s okay to cry…” you whispered near her ear, nipping at her earlobe lovingly.

The blonde nodded in recognition of your words and croaked out a soft thank you. You nodded, then slowly moved down from her ear, making your way down Larissa’s figure, leaving litterings of lipstick stains and kisses everywhere you went.

“How about feeling lonely…? Can you expand on that feeling in your day?”

Larissa’s breathing had gotten shallow once more, but it wasn’t because of her anxiety this time. Your clone was sucking on her pressure point, as you kissed her up and down her inner thighs. When she didn’t seem to recognize your question, you pulled up slightly to look at Larissa. She was leaned back against your clone, her eyes screwed shut and her mouth open, taking ragged breaths.

“No no please…” Larissa breathlessly groaned, her eyes immediately perking up, “Please don’t stop…”

“Ok… But try your best to answer my questions, alright?” You chuckled lightly, and while doing so, beginning to slowly remove the blonde’s knickers.

Larissa sucked in a breath in recognition of what you were asking of her, and she nodded. You then fully removed her undergarments, and the woman swiftly spread her legs for you without needing to be asked.

“Good girl…” your clone breathed out under her breath, right in the shell of Larissa’s ear.

Your wife caught your praise and it send shivers straight to her core. Her face lit up with redness too, and you couldn’t help but admire how beautiful she looked.

“So… you had said that you feel lonely…?” You prompted Larissa, before lowering your mouth to her heat and slowly exploring her folds.

Larissa’s eyes flew shut and she nodded vigorously. Your clone now took to teasing the blonde’s perked buds, making it only more difficult for Larissa to reply to your asks.

“Yes I… I sit in my office all day long… alone, except for meetings… N-none asks me how I’m doing, no one stops to say hello, no one knows when my birthday is, I have no f-friends…!” The blonde breathlessly whimpers, “faster please…!”

“Because you answered my question and asked so nicely…” you hum in delight, speeding up the pace in which you lap away at her sex.

Larissa’s hands tightly fist the bedsheets and her head is rolled back against your clone’s body. The blonde rocks her body against your tongue, chasing her much needed high.

“Want… wanna cum… please help me—! Need more…!!” Your wife pleads with you.

“I’ve got one more question for you…” your clone purrs in Larissa’s ear, “and then we’ll let you cum.”

The blonde lets out a strangled moan and nods in recognition. You continue stuffing your face in the woman’s cunt, your tongue fucking into her walls and tasting her delicious juices.

“Tell me about the last feeling… inadequacy. How does that impact/feel in your life?” Your clone caringly asks.

This time, it really takes a lot of concentration from Larissa to give you a solid answer.

“It’s like I—I step into ever-y room and and… Oh God—!”

Your bringing Larissa right to the edge and then pulling her off of it, over and over again.

“And I’m always… always in-nadeq-quate, always not worthy not enough, t-too difffferent! Please please please…!!” She whimpers.

Your clone has her mouth attached to one of Larissa’s nipples, sucking on it teasingly, while Larissa’s hand is driving your head further into her pussy.

“I’m— I never enough! Outcast lesbian tall woman shapeshifter…! Please Y/N Mmm gonna cum…!!!” Larissa cries out.

Your clone releases her mouth from the blonde’s tit with a pop!, her hands replacing where her mouth was.

“Cum for me, ‘Rissa” your clone purrs into Larissa’s ear, and you purr into her pussy.

The tall woman lets go with a loud cry, her body trembling as the waves of euphoria wash over her. Her mouth hangs open and her knuckles go white as she clings to the bedsheets.

Your tongue guides her through her through her high, and you happily drink all of her squirting goodness. Meanwhile, your clone whispers words of praise into Larissa’s ear and uses her hands to massage and comfort the blonde through her climax.

Eventually, your wife’s eyes flutter back open and her body’s shaking calms down to more of small shivers. You come up from in between her legs, glistening cum all over your face, and you meet the blonde face to face, connecting your lips to hers. She hums in delight as your tongue gently enters her mouth. You kiss her lovingly, letting the woman taste herself on your tongue.

You pull away and meet Larissa’s content yet at the same time wanting more expression. You cup her cheek, caressing her face, before you and your clone slip off of the bed.

“We’ll be right back” you reassure the blonde who nods with anticipation.

When you’re both ready, you and your clone come back into the room, revealing matching straps to the blonde on the bed. Larissa gasps and bites her lip, nodding eagerly in approval. You came up the the blonde and positioned her so that she was trapped between you and your clone.

You both then eased into Larissa’s holes, effectively stretching her out and making her keel over in pleasure. Her lips quivered and spewed forth strings of moans and whimpers. Once the blonde gave you the go ahead, you two and your clone began to fuck her deeper and more intense, but keeping the pace slow and painfully pleasurable.

Larissa’s mouth hung open and her eyes were rolled far back in her foggy mind. Her creamy thighs trembled, but you quickly supported the blonde’s frame lest she collapse on you. Your clone took the opportunity to palm your wife’s tits, only making Larissa cry out in pleasure even more.

“Mmmmmm Darling…! S-so closssse…!!” The woman cried out.

You brought your fingers to Larissa’s mouth.

“Shhhh, sweet girl…” you cooed, “I know, Baby… You’re all drooly for me…”

You smirked at Larissa’s drool, traveling down her chin, as you stuffed your fingers into her mouth. She gladly accepted them, moaning at having another hole of hers stuffed.

“Cum for me, ‘Rissa…” you purred into the blonde’s ear.

Your words sent Larissa into a frenzy, and with all her jokes being so tirelessly worked, she tipped over the edge once more with ease.

Her high left her limp and panting. You were about to continue, push her further, when her voice interrupted you.

“Red D-darling… too much…” Larissa breathlessly stammered.

You immediately understood, making your clone slowly pull out of her and then making the clone disappear. You then slowly pulled out of the blonde, and set your strap-on aside.

“Thank you for telling me. I’m so proud of you.” You caringly comforted the woman.

You then went to the bathroom and returned with a washcloth. You cleaned Larissa up, gently and taking your time. Afterward, you guided her into the bathtub. You ran the water, and got in the tub as well, starting to lovingly clean and caress the goddess in front of you. You made sure to clean the make up of her face as well.

Larissa was all ready for bed once she’d had you help out on her nighttime clothes. She practically fell face first on the bed. You giggled lightly, before joining the woman. Snuggled up into each other’s bodies, Larissa spoke for the first time in a while.

“Thank you, Love. I mean it.” The blonde whispered.

“Of course, ‘Ris… Anytime” you cooed in a hushed tone, then kissing the woman on the forehead lovingly.

~~~

Larissa Weems Masterlist

[itsjustrosee]

hiii love, not sure if you’re taking requests for Minho (maze runner) but if you are, could you write one where shy fem reader gets caught in a situation where her shirt accidentally rips up in front of everyone in the glade (you can choose the interesting situation of how that occurs lol) and she is bare, then feels vulnerable cause the gladers start whistling and stuff but Minho immediately takes his shirt off and covers her to protect her.

She feels safe with him and he is protective of her even though they haven’t talk much as she hardly sees him cause he’s a runner- mutual pining ig 🥰. And maybe it could end in some spice hehehe

stop it this is literally such a cute prompt I squealed when I read this. And spice is my specialty so I'm glad you asked me to include that😜. I hope I've done your idea justice!! And yes I am always taking requests and looking for new things to write so honestly ask away!!

PROTECTIVE (Minho x fem!reader (one-shot))

Context: Pre Thomas, look for summary above ^

Warnings: Cursing and spice

Word count: 2.8k (sorry this one was a bit short)

! I proof read but there might still be spelling mistakes !

Being the only girl in the glade was definitely a struggle at times. Obviously Alby had set up rules and regulations for all of the other gladers to follow to try and make you feel as comfortable and welcomed in the glade as possible, but there was only so much he could do. Though no one had tried anything physical with you, you always found a way to overhear hushed conversations regarding you and your body.

However, during your time in the glade you were able to become close with Chuck, Newt, and a few other boys. You could always find yourself laughing and hanging out with them the way they did with everyone else. They never treated you differently just because you were a girl, which is what you had grown to greatly appreciate.

You had been in the glade for a little while. In fact, today had been the 4th month since your arrival, and you knew this because a new greenie ascended from the box this morning.

His reaction getting out of the box was to be expected. He gave the normal theatrics, looking like he was about to have a panic attack, asking question after question, and then actually having a panic attack. But unfortunately he was harder to calm down then most. And being keeper of the medjacks, and baring the title of, 'the caring one' around the glade, it was up to you to calm him down. You didn't mind it though, he was a really sweet kid and he didn't even look to be much older then Chuck.

"I feel bad for the poor greenie." Newt sighed before continuing. "I mean, I feel bad for everyone who has to come down here and deal with the whole 'trapped in a maze' bit, but he's just really young." Newt explained while he plucked a blade of grass from the ground and held it in his hand. You and Newt always tended to come and hang out by the garden whenever neither of you were out working. And because you were finally able to get the new guy to calm down, he was taking a nap on one of the beds in the medhut, and since the medhut had been particularly slow otherwise, you and Newt were able to talk a bit before dinner and the bonfire.

"Yeah, I get what you're saying." You say with an exhale. "It's still difficult to come to terms with this whole thing, even after being here for a few months." Newt gave you a silent nod after you said that and neither of you said anything afterwards.

Newt was always good company. Neither of you had to talk and fill the air with conversation because being silent around each other was almost comforting in a way.

The silence between the both of you had been broken though, when you both saw Minho and the rest of the runners run out of the maze and begin jogging towards you both, probably heading to the maze room. The maze doors began to close, incasing you in glade for yet another night.

As Minho passed you and Newt, he greeted both of you with a wave and continued to jog past you.

Though you have been in the glade for a bit, you and Minho had never really spoken to each other before. Your schedules definitely didn't allow for you guys to talk to each other, considering he was always in the maze and you were always in the medhut. However, there was something about him that totally drew you in, you just didn't know what it was.

"Someone has a crush, huh?" Newt said with a smirk as he turned his head to look at yours. Immediately you turned your attention back to Newt.

Shit you were totally staring at Minho just then.

"A crush? Your talking like a child right now Newt." You say with a bit of an attitude.

"Well it's not like you're denying it." Newt says with a chuckle as he begins to stand up from his sitting position on the ground.

"Oh slim it." You say while rolling your eyes and taking Newts hand as he helped you up so you can both start heading to dinner.

Both you and Newt woke up the greenie and took him to dinner, and the evening continued like any other. Everyone was welcoming of him and it was good to see him laughing and actually talking to people.

Eventually, Gally and a couple others began to set up for the bonfire, so you took the quick opportunity to freshen up in your hut. It was honestly really nice of Alby to force Gally and the other builders to make you one just so you felt like you had enough privacy.

You changed into a pair of shorts and changed out of your tank top. You put on one of your favorite/ only shirts, which was the perfect balance of baggy yet tight on you. It was going to get colder throughout the night so you wanted to have a bit more clothing on, and you also couldn't stand the idea of being in your tank top for another second. Definitely not after sweating your ass off in it the entire day.

You joined up with everyone else and soon the festivities began. Everyone, including yourself, was drinking Gally's very shity brew and of course the greenie almost puked after one sip. Needless to say, the drink was a bit of an acquired taste, but he would get used to it. Gally was playing that stupid wrestling game with the rest of the gladers and everything was going as per usual.

You had found yourself a seat on a bench next to Newt, and you allowed your back to rest on the bench, letting out a sigh as you began to relax. You sat closer to everyone else than where you would normally sit, because you were still trying to keep your eye on the greenie. Minho, Chuck, and a group of about 10 others were sat down with you on surrounding benches. Voices and jokes filled the air and your stomach began to hurt from laughing so much.

It was times like these that mattered most when you were in the glade. It reminded you that though you were all trapped here, at least you were making the best of it. Without this type of structure, you'd bet that even Alby would've gone mad by now.

"Hey I'm going to get another drink, do you mind coming with?" Newt asked me, already up out of his seat and in front of me.

"Yeah sure, I could use another glass anyways." You explained while taking his hand.

All of this would've been fine if your shirt hadn't snagged on a loose nail from the bench.

As newt pulled you up from your seat neither of you had realized what had happened until way too late, the damage was already done by that point. Your shirt wasn't made out of the best material, so the entire thing had completely ripped off of you.

So there you were. Stood in front of an enormous group of boys wearing nothing but your bra, which only provided the bare minimum amount of coverage.

Apparently the rip from your shirt was loud enough to earn the attention of everyone, even Gally's group who was stood further away from you. It took you, along with everyone else, a moment to fully comprehend the situation. And in that moment you would've been more then happy if a griever showed up and swallowed you whole. Nothing compared to the amount of embarrassment you were feeling in that moment. Especially not when you began to hear whistles and laughs from some of the boys.

By this point you had both of your hands covering your chest, and your mind was completely blank. What the hell were you even supposed to do in a situation like this? It would take you ages to live this down, and of course something like this had to happen right when you thought everyone was getting over the fact you were a girl.

Newt stood there staring at you along with everyone else in the group of people who were sitting with you. You could see a couple guys in front of you let out laugh a laugh, which only caused your eyes to well up with tears.

You had never cried in the glade. Not once. You couldn't let yourself.

You didn't cry when you arrived from the box, or even when you were ostracized for being the only girl. But still you couldn't help but feel so utterly humiliated.

Even though it had felt like you stood there on display for hours, it had only been at least five seconds since your shirt had ripped off. Before anyone else could turn their heads to look at you, Minho got up suddenly.

He took his shirt off quickly while walking over to you, and you took your arms away from your chest, allowing him to pull his shirt onto you so you were no longer stood half naked in front of anyone. You were shocked by his gesture. Out of all the people in the glade, you had never thought he would be the one to protect you like this, but you were thanking god he did.

As he stood towering over you for a couple more seconds you couldn't help but take in what he looked like shirtless. And jeez, lets just say all this running he does pays off. He looked like he had been carved out of stone by the gods. His abs looked chiseled on, and you were going absolutely feral for it. In the most respectful way possible though of course.

Half of the glade looked just as shocked as you, and the rest looked disappointed. You heard groans and curses from Gally's group, as if they were annoyed with Minho.

"Oh come on Minho, you really had to ruin it for everyone, huh?" Gally said, and it was obvious that he was already through multiple glasses of his moonshine. His snarky comment was warranted by a couple of snickers and laughs from the other boys sitting with him. Minho turned around to face him and at this point they were stood with a bit of distance between each other, but still not much. And it was safe to say that Minho looked like he was about to maul Gally.

"What did you just say?" Minho questioned, his voice dark and menacing as he began taking steps towards Gally.

"Oh what, you going to defend your girlfriend?" Gally contested while slurring and hiccupping between words, getting in Minho's face as he said it.

"She doesn't have to be my girlfriend for me to treat her like a normal shucking person, Gally." Minho said while firmly standing his ground.

It was quiet for a moment before any other response was made. You and the rest of the glade were just staring at them, and honestly you were thankful that the attention was finally off of you.

If it wasn't for Alby pulling the two boys apart, the night would've ended with someone bloody and bruised, and someone, or both of them, ending up in the pit.

Alby pushed Gally away and grabbed onto Minho's shoulder as he led Minho back over to me. "Minho take (Y/N) back to her hut and get her situated. I'll deal with Gally." Alby says, clearly annoyed with what the night had turned into.

You and Minho both silently began walking back to your hut. You wanted to thank him, you needed to thank him, but you just didn't know how you were going to. As he opened the door to your hut and both of you stepped in, he closed the door and you just stood looking at him. You were still flustered from him being, you know, without a shirt, but you had to compose yourself.

"Thank you Minho. For um- you know, giving me your shirt and stuff." You say while looking at the ground, your cheeks red from embarrassment as you painfully recall the whole situation.

"It was no problem really." Minho said as you looked back up at him.

"Yeah it's just- I don't know what I would've done without you-" And although it sounded cliché, you meant it. Your voice began to break after trying to continue, your words getting caught in your throat. Before you could compose yourself enough to say anything else, Minho brought you into his arms gently, and hugged you. His warm embrace made you feel safe and secure, and immediately your worries washed away as you hugged him harder. You buried your head into his chest and wrapped your arms around his waist and he wrapped his around yours.

You could've stayed like that for hours, but you forced your head away from his chest and looked up at him, staring deep into his eyes and he did the same. There was a thick tension in the air as you felt the temperature in your hut increase.

Minho tucked a piece of your hair back behind your ear, "I'll always be here to protect you." Minho says while giving you a genuine smile, your stomach doing somersaults as you completely folded under his gaze. As your eyes followed his for a moment longer, you noticed them glance at your lips and before you could even process it, he kissed you.

You stood there shocked and bewildered, this night had been an absolute rollercoaster of fucking emotions and you were not prepared for it once so ever.

After not reciprocating the kiss Minho pulled away, "I'm sorry I didn't mean to- I don't want it to seem like I'm taking advantage of you or something- I-" But before he could finish his sentence you kissed him back, your lips merging into his completely, as if you were two magnets that were completely drawn together naturally.

The kiss was passionate yet gentle, and you practically melted into him. You let his tongue explore the inside of your mouth and your lips worked against his in unison. For all you knew, Minho was the first boy you had ever kissed, and you were totally fine with that. You didn't even need to kiss any other boy to know that Minho did it best.

You took one of your hands and kept it on his back, caressing his muscles on his upper back. While your other hand found it's way to his nape and you began to take his hair between your fingers, tugging at them more whenever he kissed you harder.

He kept one of his hands by your waist and the other at your back, trying to bring you as close to him as he possibly could. He held you as if you were the only thing worth holding onto, and he was never willing to let you go.

You could feel the heat radiating off of Minho as he pinned you against one of the walls in your hut next to the door. You were left completely breathless once Minho pulled away, biting at your bottom lip as he then continued to kiss you down your jaw. You could feel him begin to suck at the sensitive part part of skin between your neck and collar bone, causing a small whimper to escape your mouth.

Minho continued to kiss down your collar bone and as low as your shirt's neck line would let him. You could feel his kisses become more sloppy and desperate. It was as if he couldn't wait to get his hands on more of you, and you couldn't wait to give yourself in to him.

You pushed him off and quickly took off your shirt, tossing it to the ground as Minho stared at you. He put his arms around you again and smirked as he began to kiss you, more hungrily this time.

"I'll never let anyone else in the glade see you like this again. I promise." He said between kisses. The sincerity in his voice was prominent.

You could tell that all of what Minho had said was true. If any other boy tried to touch you, or even look at you in the wrong way, he would be there to protect you.

In that moment you had realized that no one would be able to make you feel the way Minho made you feel. He satisfied all of your desires and he fulfilled you in ways you didn't even know were possible. You were everything he wanted, and he was everything you wanted. But more importantly, he made you feel safe, like as long as you were in his arms he would never let anything bad happen to you.

Then suddenly, there was a nock on the door. Then it swung open abruptly.

"Hey um (Y/N), I really wanted to apologize for earlier-" But before Gally could say anything else, he turned his head and saw you and Minho, half naked and pressed against each other.

"Oh shuck- I didn't mean to- I'll leave now." And with that, he was out of the door as quickly as he entered it.

ok guys heres another!! I really hoped that yall liked it. I had quite the fun time writing this and I think it turned out pretty well!

btw I'm going to start working on pt.2 to stranded, and I should have it finished relatively soon, but I've never written smut before so that's going to be quite interesting. But seriously thank you to everyone who wrote nice things under that post you have no idea how much it means to me ❤️❤️

[askinkiskarma]

do you have any fic recommendations? while i wait for part three for monster in me

is it uncouth to copy paste my masterlist?? HAHAHAHAHHAAH im joking yes bb i have so many recommendations, i might even make an official list, maybe for 2.5k?

(in no particular order ofc, i love you all so much)

✰ Chosen By Eywa by @randxmthxughts - it's my highest on my list of to read damn having a job so i can't just spend my entire life reading fanfics but i hear that it's phenomenal and similar in themes to monster in me so i'm sure you'd love it as much I will (so so excited for this bb)

��� Action//Reaction by @draiochtwrites - another enemies to lovers MASTERPIECE, i love lys and everything she touches turns to gold, amazing work, please check out her whole masterlist!!

✰ Aphrodite by @iwantjaketosullyme - just an amazing, fluffy, funny, incredible Lo'ak fic, just too good

✰ Ralak te Sepawn ieyk’itan by @tiredmamaissy - needs no introduction, the queen herself, i love this series so much and this amazing man created by @zestys-stuff

✰ Lana's masterlist by @lanasblood - bb Lana has two one shots as of yet, but it's more than enough to fall in love with her and her writing and realise she's a gift to this world and this fandom and i can't wait to read everything else!!!

✰ Dad!Neteyam by @fleurriee - I love how my Fleurr writes Neteyam sm, and this series, as i've told her before, makes even the most baby-fever-proof people melt into a puddle of hormones hahaha

✰ Luna's masterlist by @justasimps-blog - another queen that needs no introduction, Luna is one of the reasons I decided to put my work on this website and engage with this community. i love her, and everything she writes, and my favourites are The Fall, Close Ain't Close Enough and Movie Night

✰ Soft!Dom Neteyam Drabble and basically all her prompts by @teyums - fuck, i love how Junie writes Neteyam so much, so much talent i'm surprised it's not overflowing everywhere, so so good

✰ Sex Education by @hinataashoyos - still my favourite Jake fic, i adore it sm, her writing is genuinely mindblowing, i remember even now having my mouth wide open reading this fic, INCREDIBLEEE!!

✰ Take Me With Her/Tidal Wave by @normspellsman - just an incredible Lo'ak series, filled with angst and just everything i love so so much, definitely worth a read 🥰

✰ I See You by @heirtothekingdom - another one saved to be read, that i have heard incredible things about, that i knowww is gonna blow me away, and so i feel incredibly comfortable recommending it and i'm sure you're going to love it

i'm so sorry if i missed any series i love (i definitely have), and I will make a more comprehensive list, this is just a very quick list made in a cafe hahahaha love you xx

enjoy anonnie xx

[lazyjellyfish300]

Hi jelly! I hope you're having a great weekend so far! 🩵 If you're still taking requests for your flufftober event, I'd love to see your take on Kusakabe + sharing a dessert 👀

HIII MINNIE 😁😁🥰🥰💕💕 yes ofc!!! Sorry this took me forever 😭😭 hey, flufftober still counts in November too, I'll die on this hill hehe 🍂 thank you for requesting 🥰🤗 love this man!!

sharing a dessert with atsuya🍰🖤

Words: 531

CW: x Fem!Reader, suggestive, minors dni, fluff

"Caught red-handed." 

You flick the lights on, a knowing smirk on your face as you fold your arms and lean against the kitchen wall. "Hands up where I can see em." 

The bandit is none other than your greedy but loving husband, Atsuya Kusakabe. A light clink of the fork resounds in the desolate kitchen, hitting the plate in front of him that's being shielded by his body. He turns slowly, hands raised. 

"S'not what it looks like, doll." 

"Oh, it's very much exactly what it looks like." 

"And that is?" He tries to match your smugness but the flush on his handsome face betrays him. 

"Very funny, Kusa." You stride towards him and uncover the crime scene: the last slice of tuxedo cake, removed discreetly(or so he thought) from its package on a small dessert plate. 

"That's two for two in one night." You tsk, gently swiping your thumb to collect the chocolate ganache from the corner of his mouth, licking it into your own. "Home late and stealing the last slice." 

"Ya got me on the first one..." Kusakabe groans. "But dammit, a man needs to unwind after a stressful day." 

"Well why didn't you say so?" You purr and he melts as your hands rest on his shoulders, his finding residence on your soft waist. "Could've came and woke me up instead of taking my dessert I was gonna pack for tomorrow."

"I didn't wanna bother you, dearest." Kusakabe tries to make up an excuse with a sloppy grin. 

"Mm, charm won't get you out of this one, I'm afraid." You smirk as you gain the upper hand. "I'm gonna give away your Dum Dum suckers to the trick-or-treaters this weekend if you don't get it together." You tease. 

"Talk about cruel and unusual punishment." Kusakabe grips his chest in fake shock. "How can I earn her majesty's good graces again?" 

"You can kiss your wife. And then you can get her a fork."

"Mmm...yes ma'am." 

The playfulness that he couldn't get enough of made it all too easy for him to lean in and kiss the sass right out of you, the tender reunion scattering chills all over that irresistibly prompts him to seek more as it deepens. 

All the empty hours away from each other's side immediately fills in the quickly closing space between both your bodies. The hearts in each one hammering away with the cadence as fleeting as it did all those years ago when you first got a taste of one another. 

Soon after you were sharing the dessert, but this time you fed each other. He'd playfully stick the cake in your face anytime your rambles carried on too much and you'd respond by smearing a little bit of chocolate mousse on his nose that you'd insist,

"Just needed to be cleaned off, hold still sweetheart. Think I missed a spot..."

And this inevitably led to a building fire that caused Atsuya to sweep you away up the stairs where it burned in the steamy comfort of your quiet bedroom, only a couple crumbs left on the deserted plate that would just have to wait until the morning.

[mimisempai]

I love the joy in you

Summary

An offhand remark by Crowley about Aziraphale's hair brings back a bad memory for the angel. But a revelation from the demon could turn that memory into a pleasant one.

Notes

Prompt : "Your hair is so soft. Like a bunny."

On Ao3

Rating G -  420 words

Light jazzy music came from the gramophone.

A soft, warm breeze blew in through the window, gently rustling the curtains.

Aziraphale was snuggled against Crowley on the sofa, lulled by the hypnotic movement of the demon's long fingers in his hair, feeling the numbness that precedes sleep begin to overtake him.

Suddenly, Crowley's voice disturbed the peaceful atmosphere, "Your hair is so soft. Like a bunny."

The angel replied in a lazy voice, "Did you just compare me to a bunny?"

Crowley chuckled slightly and ruffled Aziraphale's hair before resuming his caresses.

Aziraphale continued, "How would you know, have you ever petted a rabbit?"

Crowley replied, "Need I remind you of Harry?"

Aziraphale muttered, "Thank you for reminding me of that disastrous children's show.

Crowley bowed his head and, grasping the angel's chin, said, "Well, the kids may not have enjoyed the show, but I thought you were both adorable."

Aziraphale laughed self-deprecatingly and replied dubiously, "Yes, yes, that's right. Adorably ridiculous, yes."

Crowley held the angel's chin and insisted, "I did find you adorable. I didn't have time to dwell on it, with Hellhound and Armageddon, you know. But you were adorable in my memory. And do you know why?"

Aziraphale shook his head, and Crowley, running his thumb gently over his lips, said softly, "Because you were doing something you loved. No matter that the reason was our shared mission, no matter that the kids didn't welcome it, you were having fun. Just like on stage in 1941, without the shotgun stunt, of course. When you're enjoying something you love like that, it's like when you're eating one of your favorite dishes or tasting a fine wine or listening to your favorite piece of music, you have this expression of deep joy and it makes you absolutely adorable."

Giving the angel no time to react, Crowley leaned in, his mouth replacing his thumb on the angel's lips in a tender kiss.

When their lips parted, although the Angel's cheeks were flushed, there was a playful gleam in his eyes as he said, "Well, I have to have that expression right now, don't I? Because I'm really enjoying something that I love. And you know what? I intend to keep doing it."

He passed his tongue over his lips and added in a whisper, "Right now. 

Taking advantage of having rendered the demon speechless for a fleeting second, Aziraphale lifted his head to capture Crowley's lips in turn, filled with delight as he fully enjoyed the one he loved.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable Growing Love - Series post S2 - Part 1 - Part 2

Ineffable fan fictions Masterpost : here

[the-last-thread-of-my-sanity]

Hi Pam!

Hope you're doing well, and thank you for your ‘on the path that led me to you’! 🫂This story is really engaging and interesting to follow, to see your input into canon events, that perfectly fits into the lore and fills a lot of "missing" scenes.

As you've expressed that you would love to have some fluff aside stories Post-canon... Oh well, you know, I'm absolutely weak against AruAni domestic fluff. feat Ambassadors Family.

And I was thinking, if I may ask you to have some small continuation of your other wonderful oneshot, "to save what we have"? Take all the creative freedom you have, just something related to this particular story and some aftermath.

Thank you in advance, take care and wish you all the best :3

Anna!! Thanks so much for the prompt- sorry it took a while to respond! I was very much looking forwarding to writing this, just needed to think of a scenario to put them in. I definitely tried to lean into the ‘domestic’ and ‘family’ aspects of it.

I am grateful you requested this, because I have been finding myself wanting to return to this story/era so much lately 🥰

The story is posted under the cut- I will get around to posting to AO3 soon hopefully.

Update- you can still read below but this is also now published on AO3 as Part 2 of ‘to save what we have’ —> https://archiveofourown.org/works/59811097

“Stop squirming- hold still…” Annie said, glancing up and eyeing Armin where his arm was extended towards her across the table. She pressed the sterile cotton ball with tweezers into the wound across her husband’s forearm. The bullet had carved a clear trail through the flesh right above his wrist- and despite his grumbling she was determined to be diligent about cleaning and redressing it every day.

Armin peered over at her from where he was reading the newspaper. She eyed him carefully, pressing the alcohol soaked cotton back into the deepest section of his wound. He hissed a little through his teeth.

“I know you’re making faces behind that newspaper.” She murmured, leaning closer to inspect her handiwork.

“No I’m not…” Armin muttered back, shaking the paper straight where it had started to droop at the top.

“Yes he is.” Pieck chimed in with her sing-song voice. She was mixing flour into dough at the kitchen counter next to the table. Reiner chuckled with laughter, the bacon in the pan he was flipping over sizzling.

Annie found she appreciated the smell of the cooking meat- she had always enjoyed sweet things for breakfast, which Pieck was obliging with her cinnamon roll recipe- but lately she had been craving salty and savory foods.

Maybe their baby would prefer those kinds of foods, she thought absently as she smiled to herself, passing her free hand over the swell of her stomach.

They had been in the safe house for a week- giving the authorities time to search for the extremists’ base of operations. They were being incredibly thorough at Armin’s insistence. The captain of the guard had ensured them that his men wouldn’t rest until the rot had been cut out.

She knew there was likely to be political fallout from this- the night of the gala was important for a lot of reasons and it represented the results of years of work for the ambassadors and other world leaders allied with their cause. For the event to be cut short so violently would have consequences and potentially undo some of their hard-won progress.

But she couldn’t be concerned about the world right now. She could only be concerned about her world. And right now that was Armin, the child growing inside her, and the four other ambassadors she had come to think of as allies, then friends, and more recently as family.

And all was relatively right with her world at the moment. Armin, despite his grimacing, would heal from his injury with nothing more than a scar. Her friends were resting and enjoying their private time together after so many weeks in the public eye.

And for herself… she was coming to terms with her pregnancy all over again now that everyone knew about it.

She wasn’t feeling as sick as she had a few weeks ago. And despite the more visible changes to her body that had alarmed her at first, two weeks ago was the first time she had felt her child move and it had been so quietly thrilling that it was all she could do not to reveal their secret right in the droll policy meeting they were sitting in.

Armin had spent that night petting and doting on her, transfixed by the growing bump and talking to their baby. She had been a little embarrassed of the extra attention at first, but to see the hopeful smile that lit up his eyes… it made her remember why she had agreed to do this with him in the first place.

She wanted to give him something special- something to make up for all of the things he had lost. Even if it was scary, even if the symptoms weren’t easy. She had taken so much from the world… lives and hopes and futures. But now she could create it herself just by loving him. It didn’t seem real. It didn’t seem possible. Her? After everything?

At the same time, though, thanks to Armin she had learned to accept all sorts of things she didn’t think she deserved.

She finished cleaning the wound and tying off the gauze, smoothing her thumb across the cotton as she delicately held his wrist. Armin placed the newspaper to the side, smiling knowingly at her with the upturned corner of his lips, before sliding his arm from her soft grip and rising out of the chair to come and stand behind her.

She had been bent over the table, and she hadn’t realized how slumped and poor her posture had been until she sat back, feeling Armin begin to massage her shoulders. She leaned her head back for him to press a kiss on her forehead, and she closed her eyes, smiling as she stretched her feet out in front of her beneath the table. She found herself resting her hands atop her protruding stomach. She hummed contentedly as her husband continued kneading the tense muscles around her neck.

She opened one eye at the sound of Reiner chuckling. He waved his tongs over at her, and she raised a brow at him. “Never thought I’d see the day when Annie was pregnant and barefoot in the kitchen.” She frowned a bit, and Armin scoffed good-naturedly behind her.

She closed her eyes again, pressing her hand on her lower belly where her child was moving and kicking. “I’m not the one frying bacon in a frilly apron.” She said back nonchalantly, and she heard Pieck’s snicker as she continued to whisk her batter.

“I’m not about to have grease splatter on my shirt…” He defended glumly, turning back towards the stove top.

Armin leaned in to give her another kiss on the cheek before he knelt down next to her chair, placing his hands delicately next to hers where their child was moving. “How is our squish this morning?”

Annie snorted a bit at his newest nickname for their child. ‘Squish’ had caught on last week, replacing ‘little bean’ in the rotation of terms of endearment. She grabbed his hand, pressing it on her side right below her ribs.

“Active.” She said with a sigh, but the contentment in her voice bled through anyway.

“That’s good… maybe they’ll decide it’s better to be active in the morning than at night.” He added, his eyes lighting up with that infectious enthusiasm.

“How would the baby know what time it is anyway?” Pieck wondered aloud.

Armin straightened a bit to look at her, and Annie could sense from his expression that he was mentally flipping through a catalogue of books he’d read about prenatal development. He read them aloud to her at night sometimes, while she curled into his chest and tried her best not to nod off.

“At a certain stage, they can hear voices and respond to light… I imagine the baby knows when it’s dark and quiet it may be nighttime. Not the concept of night, of course, that’s absurd but… the sensation of it maybe?” He posited and Annie bit her lip to keep from smiling at the inquisitive look on his face that she knew so well.

“Voices, huh? Think the baby might recognize my voice?” Reiner asks.

“That’s not an invitation to talk more.” Annie teased with a glare.

“When are you going to start acting kind and motherly?” Reiner teased back with a shake of his head.

“I could stand to be a lot nicer to you if you would hurry up with that bacon.” She said adjusting in the chair as she crossed her arms.

“Since when did you start wanting meat for breakfast?” Pieck said, starting to roll out the dough with a rolling pin. She turned to Annie with a little pout, and Annie rolled her eyes.

She glanced over at Armin, a teasing grin on her face. “It’s what our squish wants, I guess.”

Armin smiled back at her, pressing a quick kiss to her middle before standing. He crossed over to help Pieck roll the dough into spirals and coat them with cinnamon sugar.

Annie busied herself with packing up the first aid kit for a moment, before all four of their heads turned at the sound of the door opening from the back of the house and heavy footsteps coming towards them.

She furrowed her brows when Jean and Connie practically tripped over themselves entering the kitchen, piling armloads of shopping bags on the table.

“What’s all this? I thought you were just meeting with the dignitaries in our place this morning.” Armin asked, swiveling around to face them and fix them with his own puzzled expression.

“We did- but then we passed by a marketplace on our way back and-“ Jean started.

“And we found the greatest stuff for Baby Arlert!” Connie spurted out, diving into one of the bags and pulling out a tiny quilted blanket.

Armin laughed, rubbing at his temples with one hand as she shook his head at him. Connie only continued to dig out more items from the bag as Jean jostled it back and forth between them- arguing that he wasn’t giving anyone enough time to appreciate the purchases.

Annie bit her lip, reaching out with one hand to touch a small stuffed rabbit. It had silken ears and a frilly ribbon tied around it’s neck. It’s button eyes and nose glistened under the light. She rubbed one of it’s floppy ears between her fingers.

She wasn’t really paying attention to the teasing and good-natured griping around her, as Pieck and Reiner continued to pester Jean for his out of control shopping habits, and Jean continued to pester Connie for trying to take credit for the gifts.

Instead, she ran her fingertips across a tiny smocked sleeping frock that was laid out on the table, before holding it up by the sleeves.

It was so small. Her baby was going to be so small. She tried to imagine a minuscule little person, with blonde hair and blue eyes filling out the little garment.

She felt tears brimming in her eyes, and before she knew it she was sniffling. Had her father ever dressed her in something precious like this? Had she ever been treated like a soft small child who was wanted and loved?

But their baby would have that. Their baby would have Armin as a father. Their baby would have so many people who cared for them.

“Annie? Are you alright?” Jean’s voice cut through her thoughts, and she realized that a tear had slipped down onto her cheek.

She startled a bit, looking over at Armin’s concerned face. She bit her lip, blushing a bit as she smoothed the frock out carefully with her palms on the table in front of her. “It’s just… so small.” She said finally.

“Of course it is, it’s for you and Armin’s baby.” Connie joked and Jean elbowed him lightly.

She felt Armin tucking her hair behind her ear lightly, standing behind her as she continued to trace the delicate embroidery on the hem with her fingertip, blinking back tears and sniffling.

When she finally looked up at him, she found herself standing up to tuck herself into his arms as he pet soothing circles into her back. She laid her head on his shoulder and clutched his sweater in her hands as he laughed a little in his chest.

“Yes, Annie. Our baby will be small and soft and little.” He said, his voice low.

She sighed, slackening a bit. She knew there were a million other words said to her in that simple phrase. About how their baby would be grow up in a world where it was safe to be small and soft and little. About how they were all working to make the world a better place for them to grow up in- but no one was working harder than Armin himself.

She turned to face Jean and Connie again, Armin’s arm still wrapped around her shoulder, and gave them both a small appreciative smile.

“Small and soft and spoiled more like- how much did you spend on all of this, Jean?” Pieck teased, dusting her hands off on her skirt as she finished slipping the cinnamon rolls into the oven.

“It doesn’t matter how much I spent.” He said crossing his arms petulantly.

“Are you trying to win some sort of contest for the favorite uncle before the kid’s even born?” Reiner asked, placing the bacon he’d finished preparing on a plate as he turned off the burner.

“There’s no such contest- but if there were I wouldn’t be worried about competition from you or Connie.” Jean said.

Reiner harrumphed a bit to himself, but sidled on the other side of the table to place the plate of bacon down in front of Annie’s chair.

She let out a relieved sigh, sinking heavily back into the chair as Armin let out a laugh. She was already shoving a strip of bacon into her mouth before she even sat down. It smelled so good, after all, and she had waited so long to eat it.

Reiner crossed his arms at Jean, giving him a self-satisfied smirk. “See, I’m giving the baby what it really wants.”

“This is very sweet of you all, but please don’t turn this into some kind of twisted made up pecking order.” Armin said, his voice already sounding disappointed and tired, his hands hanging at his sides.

Annie smiled to herself as she continued helping herself to the food, each of her friends around her pulling out a chair to sit down and continuing to discuss the baby, and the gifts, and their petty grievances laced with love and familiarity.

She slipped her hand into Armin’s when he settled into the chair next to the left of hers. She traced her thumb lightly over the gauze again as she glanced down at his hand before looking up to his face. His eyes were wrinkled with laughter as Connie held up the frock underneath his chin and Pieck plopped a tiny bonnet on his head.

It warmed her heart to know how easy it was for him to smile. A week ago they had almost lost everything. She had lost sleep over it a couple nights, remembering... dreaming of a different outcome. But all she had to do was reach for him in her sleep, his hand finding the slope of her stomach as he pulled her towards his chest to hold her close. To hold them close.

All was well… in her world. And despite how hard it was to imagine being any happier than this, she knew it could only get better from here.

[ilovedthestars]

palette 80 ancient ruins for mensah?

oh boy this is another one of my favorites so far

The palette made me want to draw Mensah on Preservation or in a way that represented Preservation's ideals. The second this image of her with a Plant popped into my head i was like YES. I did a sketch and filled in just the flat colors with no lineart and then was astonished at how striking & simple it looked, almost like a mural. I added lineart but only where I needed it, and in the same color as the background--the way I did it actually reminds me a little of Ancient Greek black-figure pottery, which is fitting given the palette name! And i distressed it a little with a layer mask to make it look painted and a little worn. I'm so happy with how earthy and soft this looks 🥰

(I'm making some fun & low stakes drawings from this palette challenge! I have plenty of prompts lined up but you can still send me a palette + a character or idea in my ask box! 💜)st

[lfc21]

The school run

Player: Trent Alexander Arnold

TW: Fluff, children

Prompt list: Children

Summary: Trent had finally got the chance to take his little girl to school and couldn't help but feel completely and utterly in love with her.

Trent didn't often have the privilege to take your daughter to school as he was often at the training ground or on his way to an away match. As much as you enjoyed spending some alone time in the morning with your daughter and enjoyed listening to her random stories and crazy dreams, you did sometimes wish Trent could also be a part of this.

"Why is it so early?" Trent asked as he jumped into the car and slammed the door shut. He had a travel coffee cup in one hand and his keys crushed into his other.

"You would be awake at this time even if you were going to training" You pointed out with a slight giggle at your husband's obvious dramatics.

"Actually babe that is where you are wrong" Trent started before taking a quick sip of his coffee. "I would still be in bed right now" He added as he pointed to the clock inside the car.

"Your lazy Daddy," Your daughter Zoe said from the bag of the car as she still held onto her small rabbit teddy since she had woken up. The car was filled with her little giggles as Trent tried to tickle her legs by reaching into the back for his little one.

"I'm not lazy" Trent pointed out as he sat back comfortably in the driver's seat before pulling out of your shared drive.

"Don't listen to him Zoe he is lazy" You stated clarifying every word whilst shooting her a wink. It was normal for Trent to spend the majority of his day being teased by you both. The idea of Trent having a daughter was something he couldn't wait to experience but now living in the moment he realised it was joking, teasing and a whole lot of glitter.

-

As soon as you arrived at school Zoe was far too excited to be able to show her father her school and all of her friends. Trent knew where she went to school, of course, he did but he also wanted to make sure her every wish was seen to. Both of your hands were holding each of her small palms as you all walked through the school gates being met by excited children and tired parents.

"Have you got your lunchbox?" You asked with a smile as you knelt to her height and pushed her lost hair away from her eyes.

"Yes, mummy" She politely replied with soft words and a toothy grin. Her hands were grasped on her school bag and her uniform made her seem like the sweetest angel alive.

"Your homework?" You asked again with a laugh as she had to cock her head to the side to remember.

"Yes mummy" She repeated highly and quickly due to her memories of her putting it into her bag came back to her. You smiled at her excitable expression as Trent stood behind her with his large hands resting on her fragile shoulders. No matter where the place Trent always found a reason to protect you and his little girl.

"Have a good day" Trent said as he leaned over his daughter and kissed her small cheek. He scuffed up her hair with a smile as she quickly fixed her little pink bow. You both waved her off as she skipped into school with a beaming smile. Trent took your hand in his and felt a feeling of pride knowing how much of a credit your daughter was.

"Y/n," Trent said trying to get your attention as you both crossed the busy road.

"Yeah, babe" You replied with a smile as you looked up at him with a smile and soft eyes.

"I want to do this more often" He explained with a smile as he wondered about all the incredible and sweet little moments he has missed. He loved seeing you all grow up but couldn't help but want his daughter to stay young forever.

Hey guys 👋🏻 this is my first Trent imagine from children prompt list 👶🏻 please leave feedback and requests as they are greatly appreciated 🥰 have a great day ❤️ masterlist 2022 💌 masterlist 2023 💌

@prettylittletrent @cornertakenquicklyyyy @trentalexanderarnold @robbo38 @robbothegoat @kostasstsimikass @chelseamount @chloereddy @tsimikasfamily @avenirdelight @blueathens @jordanhendersunshine @mrs-henderson @thatonesexycancerian @hendersons1truelover @nyctophilic0vitnir @peekapeaches @tsimikxs @tsimikostas @trentalexarnofan @leddows @moneymasnn @superkittywonderland @virgilvansike @virgilvandickmedown @hopefulromantic1 @robbo-trent-fanfiction26

[e-dubbc11]

ERICCA!!!! congrats on 200 🥳🥳🥳🎉🎉🎉❤️❤️❤️ it's so deserved, you're an amazing writer, a wonderful friend and one of the sweetest, kindest people i know - i'm so grateful to have you in my life and ily with my whole entire heart 🥰

thank you so much for running this celebration for us - could i please make a request for matty?

“we’ll never get to sleep if you keep fidgeting like that” is such a cute prompt, i can't wait to see what you come up with!

Mindi my love! Thank you so much, you have been one of my biggest cheerleaders and thank you just doesn’t seem like enough and I love you to the moon and back! ❤️

Thank you for sending this prompt in, it’s super toot and I really hope you like it!

Stay Still

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Word Count: 1.3k-ish

Warnings: None really. All fluff, the bunnies and unicorns are extra fluffy. Matt acting a little nervous but that’s it

He promised he would come see you tonight. Even though he promised, you weren’t positive he would be able to keep that promise. Matt had a job to do, lawyer by day but also masked vigilante by night and you tried to be understanding.

When you found out about Matt’s little “side job,” you took it better than other people in his life did. After that the bruises and cuts made sense, he could trust you and even trust you enough to help patch him up if he needed it.

He was eavesdropping, but he couldn’t help himself. The accident that happened so many years ago left Matt with enhanced senses so even though he couldn’t see you, he could hear you on the phone with your father but also he could hear your father’s end of the conversation as well.

He was eavesdropping outside your window, another thing you were still trying to get used to. Matt was always making sure you were safe, checking on you every night, it was very important to him.

“Well, I’d love to meet this Matt sometime soon. I promise I’ll be good.” Matt heard your father say.

“You promise? Dad, we both remember when you met one of my boyfriends in high school–you were cleaning your hunting knife when he walked inside.” You said, chuckling. It was funny now, at the time it wasn’t.

Matt sat outside your window, a devilish smirk spread across his face as he listened for a few more minutes.

“Alright, well you two will meet soon, I promise. I love him, Dad.” You choked on your words a little.

“I can tell that you do, baby girl. So yes, I promise to be good when I meet him.” He said.

“Ok, well we’ll talk soon and set something up, love you Dad.” You said.

“I love you too, sweetie–bye.” And he hung up.

You set your phone on the counter and turned towards the sink to fill your tea kettle to boil some water and Matt made his way inside through the open window. You didn’t hear him until he spoke.

“What did you tell your father about me, sweetheart?” Matt asked. He sounded a little nervous.

You still weren’t quite used to him sneaking in and out of your window at night. “Jeez Louise, Matty! You scared me!” You said clutching your chest.

Your heart jumped into your throat and he knew that.

“Oh I got you good that time, didn’t I, angel.” He said with a smirk, his dimple on perfect display when he reached for the black hood he wore over his eyes and removed it. “Your heart is beating very fast.”

“Yeah it’s probably on the floor somewhere after jumping out of my chest.” Sarcasm dripping from your voice. “Don’t step on it, I need to find it and put it back in. How long have you been out there listening?” You asked him.

He came closer to you and his gloved hands snaked around your waist to pull you into his chest, your arms resting on his broad, strong shoulders. “Long enough to hear that your father wants to meet me.”

“Why Matt Murdock, are you nervous about meeting my dad?” You asked him with a slight smile on your face.

Your head rested on Matt’s chest, you could hear his heart racing. He really was nervous so you wanted to try and make him feel more at ease so you softly pressed your lips to his.

The tension in his shoulders loosened and he kissed you back, his hand moving from your waist to your throat, the glove was a little rough against the smooth skin on your neck but you didn’t mind.

“Well…a little.” He said. “I’ve never–” He paused. “I’ve never met anyone’s parents before.”

Watching Matt, his eyes focused towards the ground then up again towards your face, he licked his lips and let out a large exhale.

“Well Murdock, I know you have some Daredevil-ing to do so why don’t you get going and we can talk about it later…I promise.” You said as you placed a tender kiss on his lips again.

Matt kissed you back and placed the hood back over his eyes. “Can I come back here after I’m done for the night? I want to sleep next to you, sweetheart.”

Suddenly, your body was warm and you could feel your cheeks and your ears turning pink. “Of course you can, Matty. Please be safe.”

After Matt left, the water boiled for your nighttime tea and you enjoyed a few chapters of your book, then it was time for you to try and get some sleep.

The first aid kit was resting on the bathroom counter in case Matt needed it when he came back but he must have had a decent night because he didn’t seem to need much from the kit, aside from the couple of band aids or butterfly closures you heard him open.

He did his best not to wake you but you were already awake and just excited he wanted to stay with you tonight.

You felt him climb into bed next to you, his rough calloused fingers tracing a line up your thigh and his hands pulling you flush to his body. His warm breath on the back of your neck as he whispered “Goodnight, angel.”

The small movements in his fingers and his toes weren’t that noticeable but enough for you to wonder what was bothering him. It couldn’t have been the sheets or the blankets, Matt’s hypersensitivity to fabrics had you out buying silk bedding to make him more comfortable as he slept next to you. So you knew that wasn’t it, then it hit you, Matt was still thinking about meeting your father.

“We’ll never get to sleep if you keep fidgeting like that.” You said to him with a slight smile.

“I’m sorry sweetheart.” He softly said into the back of your neck.

You turned to face him and gently moved your fingers through his soft brown hair. “Matty…my father is going to love you and do you wanna know how I know that?”

“How?” Matt asked.

You inched closer to his face, kissed him on the cheek and buried your face into his chest. “Because you may not have a lot in common, but there is one thing you do have in common.”

Even in the dark, you could tell Matt had a confused look on his face. “And what would that be y/n? What could your dad and I possibly have in common? I wear suits to work, your dad is a carpenter, he works with his hands, he’s a fisherman, a hunter–all things that I’m not.”

Matt sounded a little frustrated.

“You both love me.” You told him.

Matt’s body relaxed, and he let out a slight chuckle. “I do love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too, Matty. My Dad did his best every day to make sure me and my brother were taken care of and loved when we were growing up. And even though I’m an adult, he still wants to make sure I’m taken care of.” You said.

“He’ll love you because you love me.”

He finally felt at ease, he understood what you were trying to get across to him. There was someone else on this earth that loved you as much as your father did, that could protect you when he couldn’t, and that could watch over you when he wasn’t able to.

“And I always will, angel.” Matt said.

Matt stopped fidgeting, the movement in his fingers ceased, and his legs relaxed. Your hair tickled his chest as you both fell asleep, Matt’s smile pressed against the top of your head as he silently promised to love and protect you the way you deserve to be.

Tag List: @freshabogados @skvatnavle @phoebe-danvers @mindidjarin @saintmurd0ck @munsonownsmyass @elgrandeavocados @gijos

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[wizardofrozz]

Bestie! 🥰 I come bearing a first kiss prompt request! If it’s not too much trouble!

"sorry, that was my first kiss." "i could tell." "...." "i'm kidding!"

With Sawbones? Because this feels so on brand lol.

For Tonight

OC Sawbones x gn!reader

Word Count: ~1.7k

Warnings: mention of war, alcohol, suggestive themes

A/N: Thank you so much for the prompt, my wonderful friend ❤️ I had a lot of fun writing younger Sawbones and exploring what he was like close to the beginning of the war. Also, thank you @a-single-tulip and @hetalianskywalker for beta reading 🖤

Coruscant seemed to never sleep. Hundreds of species from across the galaxy mingling in one place, regardless of the galaxy-wide war that had just started. But you couldn’t judge, you were out and about, spending another girls’ night drinking and blowing off steam. Your group had already lost a few members by the time you reached 79s. 

You weren’t against one-night stands, hell you’d had your handful, but finding someone worth your time was exhausting sometimes. You settled at the bar with one of your friends, ordering something non-alcoholic, and giving yourself a break. It shouldn’t have been a surprise that your friend had already caught someone’s attention. Not that you minded, you were silently rooting for them. 

The clink of glass on the bar had you glancing up at the bartender, flashing them a smile as you handed over a few extra credits. They offered you a small, exhausted smile in return before hurrying off to the next customer. You absently swirled your drink, watching the bright colors swirl together as the music picked up around you. 

The dance floor filled in more and you glanced around; less than a year into the war, you were already starting to recognize battalion colors. Red, blue, green, but as you scanned the busy bar, another color caught your eye. Gray was new.

Two clones sat at a table near the bar and you couldn’t help but stare out of curiosity. The gray paint looked newish, barely scuffed, leading you to think they just got back from their first deployment with that color. You didn’t recognize their haircuts or any of the scars you could see; it would be hard not to recognize a long face scar. But there was something about them that screamed higher rank. Suddenly, the man with the face scar stood, arching a brow at his companion, his lips moving slightly before he walked off. Your eyes drifted to the clone sitting by himself. 

He was slouched in his chair, legs spread as he mindlessly swirled his drink, staring off into space with a hard look on his face. Your eyes followed the movement of his hand when he lifted it to scratch his cheek. It was clear the beard was still growing in but you found you didn’t mind it; it seemed to...fit him in a way. Your stomach clenched when his head turned, eyes immediately locking onto you. You froze, your face warming as he tilted his head slightly, his expression never changing. Then he just watched you. It felt impossible to look away but a part of you didn’t want to, not really. 

He jerked his head to the side and it took you a second to realize he was motioning to the now-empty chair across from him. Were you really going to do this? Apparently, the answer was yes when you stood. You could feel his eyes on you the entire way but you didn’t look up to meet them until you carefully settled into the chair opposite him.

“Uh, hi,” you said, trying not to squirm when he just blinked at you. 

“You were staring,” he replied, his voice a bit lower than you expected. Your brows pinched together and you rested your arms on the table top. 

“And so were you,” you countered, arching a brow. It was such a small change in his expression, the ghost of a smile, and you couldn’t help but feel a little triumphant. He shifted down a bit more in his chair, dark eyes trailing over what he could see of your body until his eyes landed on your face again.

“I was,” he stated simply, sipping his drink without breaking eye contact.

“Why?” If the question caught him off guard, it didn’t show on his face. Instead of answering right away, he sipped his drink, rolling his top lip into his mouth before setting the cup down again. 

“Aren’t even gonna ask my name first?” The realization made you flinch, shifting in your seat; you offered your name as an offering first, watching a faint smirk tug at the corner of his lips.

“Ni - Sawbones, but you can call me Bones.” You caught the slip, squinting at him briefly but didn’t ask.

“Well, Bones, I asked you a question,” you teased, moving to take another sip of your drink. You almost wished you had picked something alcoholic because the longer he just stared at you, the more self-conscious you grew. Sawbones’ jaw worked, the grinding of his teeth lost to the chaos of the bar but you could see the small movement in his cheek. 

“Pretty,” he finally admitted, although his eyes never left your face. 

“What?” Your lashes fluttered, still a little unsure if you heard him right. His eyes shifted away for the first time but it was brief, the weight of his stare back almost immediately. 

“You. You’re...pretty,” he forced out. The sour look on his face almost made you laugh; it looked like it pained him to say it. 

“Don’t hurt yourself,” you chuckled, hoping to lighten the mood a little. Sawbones immediately rolled his eyes but there was a hint of amusement in his expression. 

Over the next hour or so, you inched your chair closer to him as the crowd got wilder. Sawbones didn’t say much unprompted, answering your questions, but he seemed more content to listen. He told you about his squad, the Wolfpack, and you found out he was a medic but he didn’t elaborate much, leaving out his rank specifically. Surprisingly, he didn’t seem in much of a rush either, although, you almost didn’t notice when his hand dropped under the table, resting it on your knee when you were close enough. 

The only reason you did notice his hand was because it tightened briefly before it disappeared when another body knocked into your chair. He sat up a little straighter, twisting in his chair, and his hand shot out, yanking another clone back toward him. You couldn’t hear what he said but you did notice the way the other clone’s throat bobbed. Sawbones released him, shoving him back a little hard than necessary. Your brows pinched together when he turned back to you. 

“What was that for?” you yelled over the music. Sawbones’ expression pinched and he leaned closer, turning his head slightly. “I said-” 

The thrum of the crowd suddenly picked up when a new song started, cutting off the rest of your sentence. Sawbones’ nostrils flared, his top lip twitching in irritation and then he was standing, grabbing your wrist in the process. You couldn’t even ask what he was doing before you were being pulled through the crowd. You hurried to keep up, nearly knocking into his back a few times until he tugged you into one of the quieter hallways leading to the back of the bar.

“Okay,” he huffed, still not releasing your wrist. The combination of how ridiculous it was that he dragged you all the way here just to hear what you had to say and the sudden nervous swirling in your stomach, forced a laugh past your lips. Sawbones’ brows knitted together but he didn’t say anything.

“I - I was just asking why you stopped that trooper,” you chuckled, meeting his eyes. 

“He ran into your chair.” It took your brain a second to process, a smile slowly spreading across your face. The gesture only seemed to confuse him more, the crease between his brows deepening. You took a step closer, quickly realizing he still holding onto your wrist. As soon as you brought attention to it, he let go, clearing his throat. Sawbones shifted his weight when you rested a hand on his chest, eyes darting down to look at it before finding your face again. 

“Thank you, that was sweet of you to stand up for me,” you murmured, inching a bit closer. His only response was a stiff nod, calculating eyes watching as you inched closer. It gave you a surge of confidence when one of his hands came to rest lightly on your hip. Sawbones was unbearably tense but the second your lips touched his, he exhaled through his nose, his stance losing some of its rigidity. It wasn’t glaringly obvious but there was a hint of hesitations in the way his lips moved against yours. His eyes stayed shut for a moment when you pulled away, his chest expanding with a long deep breath. 

Sawbones blinked slowly, eyes half-lidded when they met yours and although he didn’t quite smile, there was a pleased look on his face. When he spoke again, his voice was softer and he didn’t break eye contact.

“Sorry,” he huffed, lightly rubbing your side, “that, uh, was my first kiss.” It was endearing to get a glimpse behind his grumpy, stoic mask; it brought a small smile to your face as you brushed your thumb over the edge of his beard.

“I could tell,” was out of your mouth before you could stop it. The silence was suffocating and Sawbones’ brows pinched together but you couldn’t quite tell if it was anger or embarrassment. “I’m kidding! I’m kidding!” Sawbones arched a brow, not looking very amused, although, he didn’t necessarily look angry either. You were starting to wonder if he just wasn’t very expressive. 

His hand continued to mindlessly trace the curve of your waist and he didn’t pull away from your touch; it felt like a good sign. But he also didn’t say anything or really do anything other than blink. 

“I really was joking,” you murmured, letting your hand slide down to the side of his neck. 

“I know,” he replied, his jaw clenching slightly. You blinked at him and almost laughed; it made you wonder if maybe he was just nervous. 

“How about I make it up to you?” you offered, you corner of your mouth lifting. He hummed with interest, tilting his head slightly as his eyes shifted around your face before he nodded. You gently pushed him toward the wall until his back knocked into and pecked his lips one last time before lowering yourself to your knees. 

Sawbones’ eyes widened, his hand hanging in the air where you were just standing as he blinked down at you. “What’re you doin’?”

“Just wait and see,” you chuckled, winking at him. One eyebrow jumped and he swayed with a silent laugh, a small smirk lifting the corner of his mouth. 

Sawbones’ head thumped against the wall when his codpiece hit the floor.

Ragu list:

@wings-and-beskar @anxiouspineapple99 @secondaryrealm @dystopicjumpsuit @sunshinesdaydream @moonlightwarriorqueen @starrylothcat @starqueensthings @multi-fan-dom-madness @trixie2023 @mythical-illustrator @wolffegirlsunite @clonemedickix @sev-on-kamino @dickarchivist

[deepperplexity]

Prompt: 15. Cards And Coals [C4]

Pairing: Turpin x fem!Reader

POV: Second, Reader & Third, Turpin

Setting: Turpin’s house

Continuation of: Prompt 4. Sharing, 6. Out Of Care & 13. Shimmering Icicles

A/N: Well, why not go at it with some more smut today - Turpin's turn now though 👀🤭 Yesterday's fic was sweet, gentle, soft and caring - this is partly that and partly the opposite 🙈 Another long one today, but, I mean, it's smutty goodness so of course we need it to be substantial - right?

Also, HAPPY FRIDAY! Today my mom is coming over (should be any minute now really, yes, I'm scrambling once more - seems I never learn to keep it short even when needed 😂) and we're celebrating Christmas all weekend with her, gonna do some ice skating, eat and cook awesome food, and get some Christmas presents exchanged between us all 🥰👏 (So, if my posting is very late the next two days, I apologies, I have nearly finished tomorrows fic but I'll catch any moment to write that I can darlings and really aim to get fics up every day!)

Tags/TW’s: SMUT, Virginity Given, Vaginal Penetration, No Aftercare, Feeling Lonely, Confessions Of Love (sort of), Arguing, Emotional Turmoil, Feeling Abandoned, Mentions Past Use Of Whores, Comparing Oneself To Others, Feeling Unworthy, Praise, Possible Praise Kink, Anger

Abbr.: Y/N - Your Name

Word Count: 4.4k+

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

⩤• You •⩥

“Richard,” you whispered, his hands holding your warm face in place. “I do not deserve you,” he said gently, softly, as if he spoke from the depths of his usually stoic heart. The way his eyes stormed for you, you’d never seen such emotions displayed in them. Your throat cinched tight with the need to speak words that could not be taken back once said aloud. “Yet, I am a selfish man, and I will take, whatever you offer, love,” Richard continued in a dark hum of a confession. “L-love?” “Yes, you are to me.”

A gasped breath slipped between your lips, his own lips thinned with a look of restraint. “Kiss me,” you whispered, and his eyes widened. “Richard, kiss me,” you exhaled while your hands reached out to grip his robe. It felt as if you would fall over without holding on to something despite still being seated on the bed. Your heart pounded, your core too tight and a sense of need seemed to fill your veins. “As you wish,” he said and your spine stiffened.

Richard leaned in, slowly, giving you every opportunity to stop what you wished for so badly it felt as if you would combust if he didn’t close the gap. You exhaled a grunted breath and tugged on his robe, his lips were smashed against yours with the unexpected movement. You’d only ever kissed once before, and that had been a mere peck on the lips for the sake of the wedding ceremony. This, this kiss, it was something else entirely.

You tugged him closer, his lips turning harder against yours, and his warm hands stiffened while still cupping your burning cheeks. Fire seemed to erupt in your lower stomach, your heart beat in erratic spasms, and his dark groan had you gasping. The second your lips parted his tongue slipped in. You moaned and allowed the exploration while you tentatively stroked his tongue in return.

He deepened the kiss, one of his hands reaching around to cup the back of your head. Your hands slid up to grasp at his shoulders, feeling his stiff muscles made your fingers flex and knead. Your thighs pressed themselves together as moisture coated your womanhood, your most sacred body part, your most protected and untouched core.

The sensation was too strong, bordering on unbearable now that it seemed to unfurl and take over completely. Your mind turned muddled, your thoughts sluggish yet focused fully on every motion and movement Richard made. His mouth felt perfect paired with yours and the kiss turned frenzied.

You tugged on him, desperate to get closer. He lost his balance but landed beside you, dragging you atop him in one fluent motion. The steady rhythm of his heart contrasted with your frantic one, his dark groan a compliment to your whined moan. The noise shocked you, sounding beyond needy.

“So sweet,” he said against your lips as you gasped at the sound. “Do not hide your exquisite sounds from me, love.” “Richard,” you said and kissed him anew while his hands stroked down along your sides, coming to a halt at your hips where he squeezed. “Oh,” you moaned and he smiled against your mouth. “Need something, love?” he asked with a near chuckle to his voice. “I-, I don’t know,” you whispered while his hard cock lay wedged between you. Your body seemed to tremble at the feel while your core pulsed with a need you weren’t sure you were ready to sate.

He widened his legs and you sunk further between them. Perfectly situated to feel every part of his manhood, the cock he’d so recently stroked in the tub while calling your name. You shivered at the feeling and memory, a moan escaping as his hands moved to your behind and kneaded each cheek. “Such a sweet sound.” “Richard…” “Love.” “I-, please,” you whined as his hands rested just below each cheek, the tips of his fingers so close to where your body wanted to be touched — it was excruciating to have him so close yet not close enough.

“For so long, I have waited patiently,” he began in a dark hum while his hands moved forward and back, stroking the top of your thighs while always receding just before touching your slicked core. “Hell on earth, my home turned into my own fiery pit of damnation with you so close.” “What?” “Tell me what you need, love. I will do nothing you do not ask of me. I have been patient, to gain your trust, and I will not break it on the cusps of my reward for said patience, said torture,” he nearly hissed and your heart damn near broke with the overwhelming flow of warmth coming from his harshly spoken words. You wished for him to touch you, take you, relieve the aching within you, put out the burning heat inside you — anything to rid you of the desperation crawling under your skin, the neediness in your very blood. For him, only ever for him. Even if it took you far too long to realize what you had begun to feel for your stoic husband there was no denying it now.

“Touch me,” you whispered, barely able to make your voice heard. “Please, Richard, I-, I feel as if I’ll go mad,” you whined while drowning in the lust within his eyes. “Such a needy wife,” he said, but there was a hunger in his voice you’d never heard before. “For you, only.” His nostrils flared at that and you were on your back a second later with him snuggled between your legs. “Tell me to stop, and I will.” You nodded and he kissed your lips once, softly. “Say the words,” he urged while your entire body tensed as the ridge of his cock nudged something far too sensitive between your legs. “I’ll tell you to stop,” you exhaled and he kissed the tip of your nose gently. “Good wife.” Those words, in his baritone voice, sent a shiver of pleasure down your spine.

He kissed you, first softly and then ardently. Your motions turned sloppy as his tongue dived deeper and his hand found your breast. He stroked your nipple through the nightdress’ fabric yet it sent jolts of pleasure through your entire body, echoing in your core. Your thighs clenched around his hips, the tip of his cock nudging at your entrance with only the nightdress between you.

He grabbed the hem and pulled in one swift motion, your back never even left the mattress below. You panted, your body on fire, his lips smashed against yours and his hand travelled to your thigh. His warm palm seemed scorching. “Sweet, sweet wife,” he murmured as he moved to kiss your neck. “P-please,” you whimpered. “In due time,” he said. “I must prepare you, I have no wish to harm you, love.” “H-harm me?” you gasped as his finger nudged your outer lips, already slicked with moisture. “Hmm,” he hummed while his finger slid between your folds, up and down in a half-gentle motion. “So wet for me, such a good wife you are,” he praised and your heart nearly imploded at the lovely words.

His finger dipped, and then he pushed it inside you. You jolted at the intrusion, a whimpered moan escaping as a searing erupted within you. “Fuck, you are so lovely.” His finger slid in and out. “So wet, so warm, so pure,” he continued and you grasped at his back, the damn robe in the way for you to feel his skin. “Robe, Richard, your robe,” you said and he half sat up.

The sash was undone and the view he posed had you gulping down a breath. His chest was dusted with grey hair, his soft but still firm stomach and… his cock. Bulging, standing at full attention, and nearly angrily red with veins wrapping around it. Your tongue darted out and licked your lips, for some reason your mouth watered at the sight and you couldn’t understand why. Your insides seemed to churn at the image he posed, something darkly alluring about his whole presence.

He withdrew his finger and you whimpered at the loss, but he quickly disrobed and pushed back inside. He remained seated between your spread thighs though, posing an intimidating view towering above you — all powerful. “Beautiful,” he said and you felt heat creep all over your chest and neck, burning your cheeks. His eyes roamed all over you, like a starved man laying eyes on a meal fit for a king.

Your back arched as he added a second finger, spreading you wider but moving quite gently. The next second his lips latched around your nipple, sucking and licking in perfect tandem to make your entire body curl with need. “Haa— Richard! Please,” you moaned. He upped the tempo of his fingers and you cried out as his thumb rubbed the sensitive little bud at the very top.

Your insides rippled and contracted around his fingers while you reached out to grab his shoulders, needing to hold on to something once more as your body nearly quaked with yearning as he released your nipple and kissed his way up your chest. “Your perfect cunt is mine,” he whispered by your ear. “Mine.” “Yes, yours,” you panted.

His hand left you and you whimpered in distress at the lack of him. “Look at me,” he demanded. “I want to see you.” You hooked your gaze in his, sweat misted your skin and your chest heaved while you tensed with trepidation. His hand moved and your eyes flicked down, seeing him stroke his cock — lubricating it with your slick — had you gasping. How-, how is that supposed to— “Look at me,” he demanded anew and your eyes snapped up. “I shall be as gentle as I can, love,” he promised and leaned forward, capturing your lips.

You felt him move closer, but your eyes drowned in his. His cock poked at your entrance and you tensed but he forced his tongue inside your mouth and when yours took up the dance he offered he pushed himself inside in one swift motion. Your head was thrown back, a cry echoing through the room as you took all of him right away. The tension was unbearable, the fullness wonderful, the heat a searing companion spurring pain. You writhed beneath him, feeling too full yet perfectly filled at the same time.

Richard held still, it gave you a moment to adjust a bit to his girth. The initial stab of pain ebbed away while your channel softened. Then he moved, slowly at first while your body found its equilibrium and the pain was soon enough lost to a throbbing pleasure. You grasped at his shoulders while he kissed your neck before rising on his forearms. “So good,” he groaned as he upped the tempo. “You are — fuck — so good, so, perfect,” he groaned between thrusts while your legs wrapped around his hips. “Richard, haa— oh, oh god,” you moaned. “I need — ohh — please I need—” Your voice was lost to a loud moan as he upped the pace to a pounding and you felt both pain and pleasure once more. Your body struggled against the rapid movement yet you wanted more. 

“My sweet — ugh — wife, how long I’ve-, I’ve waited for your perfect cunt,” he groaned and rose all the way, his cock stroking a new spot inside you. It drove you mad with the ever-growing need for something you couldn’t term. You grabbed at the sheet beneath you, tried to find the words for what you needed. But you were lost to the sensations, the fullness, the warmth, the tension and the building of something that had you tethering on the line between worry and need.

You tensed further, that elusive something built far too quickly when his thumb began stroking your sensitive nub again. You moaned his name, a pleading almost, and he upped the pace once more. The tension, the stretching, the fear-mixed longing — it all fought for your attention.

“Love,” he groaned. “Love — oh fuck — you’re so good, such a perfectly tight cunt for my cock to fill.” “Please, please I-, I need-, need— Haaa-! ” you cried as your entire body tensed with a wave of pleasure crashing over you, shaking you to your core. “Yes,” Richard moaned. “Give it up, love,” he said and you released the tension, trusting in him through your hazy existence narrowed to him claiming you. He groaned as your insides pulsed, your muscles quaked and the world stopped existing while pleasure eradicated all thoughts. Your entire existence then turned into just the pleasure he gave, the pulsing of him inside you as he stilled and moaned deeply. The sounds he made prolonged your orgasm and you felt as if you were floating on clouds, warm, trembling clouds.

His soft lips half slanted and half kissed their way up your neck, his warm breath fanned over your sensitive skin and you trembled beneath him. “You are perfection like this, love,” he said before licking at the pulse point below your ear. “But next time I will not be so gentle when you drive me to madness.” It wasn’t a threat, more a promise that had you shivering before wrapping your arms around him. “Please,” you only said as he laid a bit more of his weight atop you and with the motion his half-limp cock slipped out of you, making you hiss. “You did so well,” he praised. “My good, sweet, perfect wife,” he continued and the praise did things to you, things you couldn’t understand but wanted more of.

Was that so strange? Your husband, the great Judge Turpin, was a stoic and cold man. Never had you thought he could be so tender, so sweet, so caring and soft-spoken. It made you tingle all over and, secretly, you hope to be the only one to ever hear such sweetness come from that perfect mouth of his. That wish, however, stirred a memory of the words written by women of insufficient schooling across three Christmas cards waiting downstairs. You pushed the thought away, staying in the warm sensation of your husband's embrace, loving that he was holding you so close in the aftermath of giving away your innocence.

“Let’s clean up,” Richard said and moved away from you. You instantly felt cold, bereft. Something within you was not quite satisfied at the quick end to your shared closeness, but you didn’t say a thing. After all, so much had happened, changed, unfolded, in such a short time you had no idea if you were merely overwhelmed. When you had wed the man you had only felt there were two possible outcomes regarding your virginity and neither of those had any sweetness to them. Don’t think about that now, you scolded yourself as Richard’s warm hand grabbed yours.

He dressed you in your robe and sent you to the bathroom, giving you time and space to do whatever you needed. Truth be told, you felt a little lonely at the quick dismissal. Was I not good enough? But, he said so? Said I was perfect, and good… Your thoughts spun while you washed yourself quickly. When you returned to the bedroom Richard had already left. So you dressed in silence and then went downstairs.

⩤• Turpin •⩥

He endeavoured to busy himself with a book, the words unreadable as he thought of your body beneath his, the sounds you had made and what a perfect slice of heaven your soaked cunt had been. Truly worth every speck of patience I have mustered… The fact he had wished to lavish you with kisses, touches and several more orgasms after claiming your purity lingered in his mind. Never had he wished to pleasure a woman just for their sake. He had, of course, known it to be impossible as you were surely sore after his claiming so he had sent you to clean up before he would have done something that could have caused you to lose the trust you now seemed to offer him.

He sighed, attempting to focus on the words in the book once more, but no matter how he tried he only saw your beautiful face contorted with pain-rimmed pleasure wherever he looked. His cock began to harden anew so he crossed his legs, staving off the urges you muddled his mind with.

He hoped you weren’t too hurt by his cock claiming your perfect cunt, he wished to do so again at the earliest possible but that would require you to heal and feel ready anew. He would wait, though. By God, he would wait for you. I am perhaps ruined for all other women out in the world now. One cunt, only one perfect cunt should take my cock and seed from now on. My sweet wife’s…

He wondered how far he could take you, how high he could drive you and how dark he could turn you in tastes of the flesh. He was a wicked man, no denying such an obvious fact, yet with you, he would hold back. He would attempt to take his sweet time teaching you, caring for you, showing you all the pleasures of your body and his if you were to allow him. He’d had plenty of practice, done more than enough research on the matter and — truth be told — he was a rather skilled man in the bedroom department. There’s a reason the whores came crawling back, of course. What a shame none will ever reach up to Y/n, could have been easier with a woman already trained to— no, no none could ever replace my sweet wife or her perfect cunt.

Richard sank deeper into thought while he wondered how he could make sure you were willing to be his in every manner possible for all time to come. Sure, you were wed and divorce was out of the question, he had vowed before God to be by your side until death claimed one and he would hold that vow no matter what. Yet, it had taken him six months to claim you fully, how much longer would it take before he could be fully free with you in every manner he wished? A year? Two? Too long, unacceptable.

He pondered for another moment but no matter how he twisted it he knew he would never want you to feel anything but pleasure and want with him. He was certain he could make you his entirely if he did it all correctly, nicely, differently from how he had gone about things before. You have changed so much, love… He was still a stoic, harsh, dark sort of man. He wished to be caring with you though, even if his fantasies for what he could share with you mingled pain and pleasure — turning the two into one and he could not understand how he was to make you see he truly cared for you, wanted you, loved you beyond compare when such dark urges were curling beneath his skin.

⩤• You •⩥

You found him the parlour. He wore his usual golden attire, except no coat. Just the vest and white shirt beneath it. You had opted for a mossy green dress, not one of the big puffy ones but a simpler one — only for wearing at home in comfort — yet it was pretty and hugged your forms rather nicely.

“Richard?” you asked and he looked up from the book he was reading by the hearth. He laid it down on the table next to the three Christmas cards you hated with an insecure passion, having read them only yesterday, when they arrived in the morning, addressed to Richard and signed with sickeningly sweet female names. You walked in, sitting yourself down on the sofa next to him without glancing at them again. They felt like an even bigger slight now, after what you'd given him and how he'd nearly turned you away afterwards.

“Something on your mind?” he asked, and you shook your head. “Do not hide things from me,” he said, a sternness to his voice. “I’m not hiding.” Your fingers fidgeted a bit atop your thighs and he grasped both of your hands with one of his. “Hurt?” “No… I’m fine,” you said while heat crept along your cheeks, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to look him in the eye. It was both true and not. “Then, what?”

It took you a moment to gather your courage, to gather your thoughts as well. But once you had you turned toward him while the coals in the hearth had the room in a warm glow of red. Its heat wasn’t enough to fully warm the room but enough to keep it from growing too cold, with Richard so close heat wasn’t really a problem though. Just looking at him warmed you, yet your mind was muddled with all that had happened and the things you wanted to say weren't what sprung to mind. You wanted to ask if he was pleased with you, wanted to ask if he would hold you close, wanted to ask if you were good enough for him despite your inexperience, and if he truly had meant what he'd said about you being his love. That last one had your heart in a twist, you wished for it so badly as you now knew why all the things he did and said meant so much to you. You loved him. You had truly grown to love the man. A man you hardly knew despite the six months you had been a pair.

“Why do you hate Christmas?” you asked, not sugarcoating it at all but choosing a topic that felt safer than the rest you wished to talk about. Richard blinked and sighed, attempting to remove his hands from yours which only made you grab on harder to him. “Talk to me, tell me why you-, why you were so brutal with me…” “Love, I apologize for my reaction.” “Apology accepted.” He nodded at that, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “But explain,” you continued while wondering if that first word had been a false endearment or a truth. “It’s a rough, unpleasant holiday for me, leave it at that.” “No.” “No?” “No.”

You held his gaze as he looked at you, stunned for a second at your harsher tone. But you remained still, unwavering. You needed something from him, anything, while you thought of whores (who you hoped remained in the past) sending Christmas cards to your husband while you weren't even allowed to decorate your home for the holiday in the slightest. “It is none of your concern.” “It’s my favourite holiday and my husband's well-being we’re talking about. So, tell me, please.” “No. I will not speak of it. Leave it be,” he bit out, his hand tugging free from yours. The uncomfortable feeling you had from before grew into a loneliness. You had just given him your purity, showed him you loved him, and forgiven his cruelty toward you — yet he could not give you this? He could not speak with you while overly sweet, longing-filled cards lay on the table for him, writings of wants and needs and sweetness in less than accurate spelling by women he surely had had intimate relations with several times given the words within those cards.

“You are cruel,” you whispered, glancing at the floor for a second while your stomach churned. “What?” “You heard me. You’re a cruel man, Richard,” you said flatly, but your eyes brimmed with tears as you looked up at him. “Not a single kindness showed after— Not one. I'm in love with a cruel man…” You rose from the sofa as you spoke. Not wanting to sit next to him when you felt so broken, so vulnerable, taken advantage of. Was it all pretend for him? A conquest? A physical need as easily relieved by a whore? Perhaps I’m no more than the whores he used to take… They speak of him as if he was most kind to them, pampering and lavishing. Perhaps I’m less than a whore?

You shook your head, a broken and quiet laugh spilling out while you whispered the word “whore” to yourself. The dread and chill of the thoughts crept in and you hugged yourself, suddenly feeling too exposed in the sleek dress you’d chosen for comfort — in the hopes of sitting close to your husband, to feel his warmth through the fabric and banish the worry that had bloomed in your heart.

Richard hadn’t once spoken words of affection, words of care, words of love or tenderness. Only praise, while he was touching your body… It made you feel dirty, used. The sensation of loneliness peaked when you glanced at the Christmas cards, all for Richard and none for you. All you wished to do was burn them. Burn the words, rid yourself of the feeling of being so worthless to a man you’d grown to love, trust, and care for.

“Whores don’t get cards,” you whispered. “What are you whispering about?” Richard asked while you spun around, tears streaking down your cheeks while your eyes flicked between him and the glowing coal to his left. “Whores don't get Christmas cards,” you said more clearly as you bent and grabbed the papers in red, green, and white. “But they fucking send them,” you snarled and threw them into the hearth. One landed on the carpet, two took to flames in a matter of seconds and Richard swiftly rose from the sofa in a far too elegant motion.

“Perhaps I should have been a whore, obviously they receive kinder treatment than your sweet wife,” you snarled and you had no idea what had taken over your mind. You never spoke harshly, you were raised to be proper, to be a lady at all times. But this, this whole situation, it hurt. You were hurting so deeply a knife could have been stuck in your heart and it would have been less painful than the emotions running rampant.

You ran out of the room, tears and sobs taken with you while abandoning the man you loved. The cruel man Mrs Lowel had nearly convinced you you mattered to, that you were special for, that you were important to. “How could I ever be so stupid… And now I gave him everything,” you said between sobs as you half-stumbled up the stairs. He didn’t come after you.

…To Be Continued…

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

A/N: Well that took quite a turn there, didn't it? And another cliffhanger, who could ever have guessed 😂😂😂 I feel like this Rickmas is the Rickmas of Cliffhangers 😅 Gosh, I hope you're not too upset about that as we are doing longer, more in-depth stories this year - can't have the good without the bad I guess (I do love cliffhangers when I know I'll get the next part though) ❤ Now, how we feeling? We ready to go even darker in the next part perhaps? 👀🤭

Q: If you could have Alan play one character he never got to play, which one would it be? A: For me it would be Judge Claude Frollo in a live-action remake of the Disney movie - that is probably no surprise to those who have been with me for a while but gosh, he would have made such a perfect Frollo 😩👌🔥

TAGLIST: @lizlil @snapefiction @darkthought15 @monstreviolet @flowerdementia @marvelschriss @once-upon-an-imagine @ravennight41 @caseydoodles98 @slytherinprincess03 @theconsultingdetectiveswife @grimmyhild @monster-energies @myobscureimaginarium @snowblossomreads @eternal-silvertongued-prince @cherryglossie @setsuna-meiou31 @helena211 @a-queen-and-her-throne @justsaturn0 @turvi @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky @sunnylikesfrogs @mamawolfsmith16 @dianilaws @sassanoe @snapesrn @bernadette-peters12 @sammy-13 @smartowl999 @castleofthorns @serenanight87 @leah1243 @elizabeth-baelish @all-art-is-quite-useless @severuslovebot @yellowbadgermole @impulse-anchor @writewithmarites@yan-senna @writewithmarites @lokisbjchnl @ladykardasi @mamawolfsmith87 @snowblossomreads @ladykardasi @a-queen-and-her-throne @eternal-silvertongued-prince @lyrixsnape @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky @daddythanatos

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[Dec:2023]

[whogirl2011]

Lost and found (the road trip) | Dwight X Gretta | One shot | a little over 3.8k words | Rated: T for light romantic themes and kissing.

A Dwight in shining armor Fanfic

Summary: After graduation Dwight and Gretta go on their first ever roadtrip together to see places outside of Woodside.

This was made for @shiningsmoochweek a prompt week of favorite couples in Dwight in shining armor set up by the lovely @dwightinshiningarmorfan. It might be a little late but I'm happy to get this one out there. 🥰

Nana was doing a once over with Dwight, taking note of the few duffle bags and other items he was busy rearranging in the back seat of his recently acquired SUV. He opened the front door of his car, leaning over and checking for possibly the tenth time in his glovebox that he had his registration, insurance information, and a road map with a pack of multicolored pens. 

It was a plan for after they’d graduated. Dwight wanted to take Gretta to places neither of them had been–which, for both of them, turned out to be a lot. He was a small-town boy from Woodside, never experiencing the open road for himself full of bright lights, highway signs, and traffic so busy it could take any destination they chose and turn it into miles of moving inch by inch.

Gretta had never seen famous landmarks across the nation like the depths of the Grand Canyon in the Arizona heat. She had never been surrounded by palm trees instead of great oaks with sand between her toes, looking out into a steady ocean, the waves lapping at her calves. 

This road trip was going to change that.

“I think that’s everything,” Dwight said, coming out of his maroon vehicle, assuring his grandmother with a smile. She pulled him into a tight hug.

“Make sure you stop every few hours for a  stretch,” Nana told him. He opened his mouth to say something while still being held, but she continued, “And don’t try to drive more than eight hours in a day if you can.” He pulled back and nodded, attempting to speak again, but Nana carried on, “And make sure you check in from time to time to let me know how things are going.”

“I–”

“But not if you’re driving and need to keep your eyes on the road.”

“Got it,” Dwight blurted. He understood why she was being like this. Nana, after all, had been his sole guardian since losing his parents when he was only a toddler. He wondered if her worry for him was similar to when they had left for Alaska. The thought made him hug his Grandmother tightly one more time.

“I’m gonna miss you honey bear.”

“I’ll miss you too,” he spoke warmly, rubbing her back, “I’ll call you later when we hit a pit stop.” They released their embrace when they heard Baldric’s voice.

“And you remembered your tooth-cleaning brush?”

“Yes,” Gretta confirmed, following before they appeared from around the corner with Hexala and Chlodwig in tow. She was carrying a bag over her shoulder made of cloth enwrapped by rope. Chlodwig had a quiver over his shoulder, filled to bursting with arrows, and held a bow in one hand. Baldric had another bag made of cloth tied together with rope that looked much heavier than the one Gretta was carrying. An axe and multiple sheathed swords were tucked under his arm, clanging with each step.

“Nope! Hold up!” Dwight raised a hand with his palm out, gesturing a stop. “There’s no way you’re putting all that in my car.” Baldric dropped the weapons and the bag of armor at the curb giving out a huff. Chlodwig rolled his eyes, laying down the quiver and bow. “We’re going on this road trip for some sightseeing, not driving into battle with an army.”

“Wha–” Gretta began to argue, dropping the bag hanging off her shoulder beside the car.

“You can bring one sword.” Dwight put his pointer finger up. “One.” He dropped his arm and shook his head, picking up the bag that Gretta had set down, and leaned into the back of the car to place it on the backseat.

“One?” she mouthed, brows furrowing, looking down at the weapons on the ground. Gretta shrugged at the magician and prince and crouched down, pulling the array of swords from their scabbards to check them over.

“Here, Sir Dwight,” Hexala spoke, appearing at Dwight’s side as he came back out. She pulled a tall, narrow glass bottle from her bag. “Take this.” 

The cork in the top was sealed in by melted wax that dripped down the neck and shoulder. The knight squinted, looking closely into it. There were small rocks at the bottom and various dried herbs stuffed in with purple and silver powder sprinkled throughout.

“Uh, thanks?” he said, taking the bottle and rotating it around in his hands. “What is it?”

“It’s for good fortune on your travels.”

“Oh!” Dwight glanced over to where Gretta stood. She was holding a sword in each hand, studying them with her court magician and cousin. He let out a nervous ‘heh’ and nodded, quickly raising the bottle in thanks. Tucking the bottle in the back pocket of the driver’s seat, he knew he could probably use all the luck he could get. He checked his watch and spoke while exiting the car’s interior, “Come on Gretta, we’re burning daylight here.”

“Quickly Sir Dwight! What sword would you choose to bring along for our adventure? This one? hm?” She held one up and then the other. “Or this one?”

“I suggested she go with that one,” noted Baldric, pointing to the sword that had a circular arc curving upward on the guard, the sphere on the pommel was nestled into another arc facing the opposite way.

“And I that one,” added Chlodwig, pointing at the sword with a crescent moon framing the blade’s base. The pommel was another crescent moon, mirroring the guard.

“Anyone else wanna throw in their two cents?” asked Dwight, looking over towards Hexala and Nana.

“I think I'm gonna stay out of this one honey,” replied Nana. 

Hexala nodded her head in agreement next to her. “Swords aren’t this witch’s forte.”

“Well, Sir Dwight? Which one do you prefer?” Gretta raised the swords up again so he could look them both over.

When he took in the way she eagerly awaited an answer, the realization dawned on him how significant this decision was for someone like her. He couldn’t simply pick one at random just because he was beginning to get impatient. This was Gretta’s sword they were talking about–the very thing Gretta took pride in choosing whenever they’d faced danger during an adventure or while they were on a quest. And they were about to embark on a brand new adventure together. Just him and Gretta. 

Not only that, but a sword wasn’t just a weapon to the Princess. Sure, it was something she’d used to fight with for her own survival since she was little, but it also held sentimental value. It was a reminder of home, a comfort she’d beheld since she was two years old. In a way, it was kind of like Dwight’s stuffed sock monkey, Mr. Mooks. Was it practical to compare a weapon to a cuddly toy? No. Was he going to reveal to anyone, especially Gretta–he had Mr. Mooks secretly stashed in his bag for the trip? Also, no. 

“Sir Dwight, daylight is burning,” Gretta stated, using his own words against him. Now he was the one stalling.

“I’m thinking,” Dwight replied. “Which of these swords has helped us out of a bad situation before?” 

“Both,” she answered, holding them up proudly with a smile.

“Kay…” Dwight trailed, “Well, which one belonged to your grandmother?” 

“Both.” 

“Alright, just–get them both in there, then,” he told her, jabbing a thumb behind him towards the car. She smiled giddily, sliding the swords back into their scabbards, and wrapping a belt around one of them. She kissed his cheek, holding the swords closely to her chest and she was off to pack them into the car. The girl could be absolutely impossible and exasperating at times, but he couldn’t help the smile curving his lips now when he looked over at his Princess so happy.

Chlodwig approached next as Gretta rejoined her knight. The prince reached out to cradle their faces in his hands. His thumbs rested at the front of their ears while his fingers curved around the nape of their necks. “Do not forget to send me something amongst your travels to share with our guy club assembly.”

“Don’t worry buddy, we’ll send you a postcard from the road,” Dwight said smiling at him

“Safe journey, dear cousin Gretta, dear brother Dwight.” Chlodwig put an arm around both of them and pulled them in closely. The Princess patted her hand against her cousin’s shoulder. Chlodwig let them go and nodded quickly when there was a sudden gruff clearing of a throat. He backed away as Baldric approached them.

“Everything ready?” The magician asked.

“Yeah, I think so.” Baldric placed his heavy hands on top of Dwight’s shoulders “Safe journey, Sir Dwight.” Suddenly, Dwight was pulled in for a bear hug, lifting him up off his feet, practically squeezing the air out of him. “Promise me, you and the Princess will return safely.”

“Will. Do. Prom…ise,” Dwight strained. 

Baldric let him go and looking at Gretta, he bowed his head. “I will keep you informed should any important matters arise in your absence.”

“And I shall keep you informed of our well-being during our travels.” Gretta raised her hand towards him where Baldric held it in between both of his. “Please take care of yourself and the kingdom while we are away.” 

Baldric nodded, releasing her hand after saying, “As you command, Your Royal Highness.”

“Upon our return, we shall share many pleasant tales, self mes, and spritely songs of our journey.”

“I’ll bring you back some souvenirs big guy,” added Dwight. 

“You must return home safely, Highness.” his eyes grew softer.

“Baldric, you mustn’t worry.” she placed a hand against his cheek. “With Sir Dwight and his high-bred steed to protect me on our travels, I shall.” Gretta hugged the large man, standing on her tiptoes. She breathed in deeply, attempting to fight the tears threatening to form as she inhaled the scent of his magician’s robe.

“Safe journey my child.” The words made Gretta hug him tighter. After a few moments, she released her embrace and nodded towards him, determination on her face.

When they made sure everything they needed was packed in the car and they were ready to go, they climbed into the car and put on their seat belts. Dwight started the car and they waved yelling farewells with the windows down before turning out of the cul de sac. 

As they drove through the familiar streets of Woodside towards the edge of town, Dwight had found it easy to breathe in the summer air. But with it being only him and Gretta in the car, nearing the sign ‘Leaving Woodside’, he could sense the atmosphere around them already starting to change. It was charged with electricity and anticipation, not knowing where this adventure would take them. 

Gretta turned to look behind them, her eyes on the opposite side of the sign welcoming people to their hometown. It became smaller and smaller as the distance grew. She turned back around, looking down at her hands in her lap before the sign could disappear completely from view. A hand came down and tapped the top of hers. It was a comfort, a reassurance that regardless of what fate had in store for them during this newfound wanderlust, he would be there by her side. 

“Do you believe everyone will be alright while we are away?” Gretta asked.

“They’ll be fine.” Dwight glanced over with a smile. “This is going to be a new experience for all of us,” he spoke, squeezing her hand, “but that’s a good thing.” 

A smile spread across her face, “I look forward to this new experience with you, Sir Dwight.”

With his eyes still on the road, he brought her hand towards him, kissing the top of it. “I’m looking forward to this with you too.”

He tried to keep travel similar to their smaller journeys the best he could in what Gretta called his trusty high-bred steed; it was a hybrid SUV. The windows were partially rolled down, and music played from the car stereo. Dwight hummed to songs from his playlist, tapping along to the beat with his thumbs on the steering wheel while Gretta would tap her thigh or use her foot to tap at the floor mat under her feet. She was familiar with the spritely ballads he listened to, catching lyrics of love, adventure, and becoming someone’s wildest dreams.

For hours, the scenery changed and passed by. Woods with tall trees were to either side of them, fading into flat plains of grass with rolling hills in the distance. On vast fields of farmland, cows, horses, and sheep roamed and grazed without a care in the world in their fences built to keep them safe and away from the roads. 

Driving along straight roads for miles made him more at ease to take his right hand off the wheel. Gretta would often use the opportunity to reach over and claim his unoccupied hand, entwining their fingers, or casually thread her fingers through the soft dark hair at his nape. And when they would stop at a red light, he made a habit of taking her hand and pressing his lips against her knuckles.

They took breaks at rest stops and gas stations, stretching together after sitting in the car for long periods of time. They checked in with loved ones on their beckoning devices, used the bathroom, and refueled. At a few places, the pair drew the attention of people around them, curious of their story roaming small aisles and fridge sections to replenish their snacks and water. Store clerks, on the other hand, were either complacent or friendly at their job, continuing to perform their tasks as usual, seemingly unfazed by the girl in medieval-style clothing. They exchanged pleasantries with one another at the counter and soon after grabbing their supplies, Dwight and Gretta were back out on the road.

Late into their journey for the day, Dwight and Gretta found themselves in a cozy diner, sitting in a booth, looking over the menus. The aroma of freshly cooked food filled the air and made Gretta’s stomach growl in impatience. She reached over and took a sip of orange soda from her glass to keep it at bay. A sweet lady with a smile warm and welcoming approached the couple. She wore a light blue waitress uniform and had a white apron tied around her waist. The shiny silver name tag on her uniform said ‘Sarah’. 

“So, What can I get you folks tonight?”

“Ladies first.” Dwight gestured towards her.

“I will have the chicken and mashed potatoes with gravy,” Gretta said, hooking her fingers together, and sitting up straight.

“And I think I’ll have the grilled salmon and steamed vegetables, please.”

The waitress nodded and scribbled down their orders and took their menus. “I’ll be back soon with your food.”

When their meals arrived, Gretta didn’t hesitate for a second to dig into her mashed potatoes. Their creamy texture and buttery flavor melted in her mouth and the gravy carried the essence of cooked meat. She couldn’t help the groan that escaped when she swallowed.

“That good huh?” Dwight asked, forking some of his broccoli along with some carrots to put in his mouth. 

“It is absolutely exquisite.”

“Well, we haven’t exactly had much in the way of actual meals since we left.” Dwight shrugged, taking his bite of food for the first time and closing his eyes. The vegetables were cooked to perfection, he flaked a piece of salmon with his fork and ate it. It was the closest thing to a home cooked meal he’d had all day. “Okay, not gonna lie, this is pretty good.” Gretta cut into her chicken and ate a piece, Dwight was sure he caught her eyes rolling into the back of her head. “Maybe we shouldn’t eat so many snacks and actually stop for the three square meals we’re supposed to be eating.”

“I agree,” Gretta replied. “We must keep up our strength if we are to endure long hours of traveling.” Dwight nodded, drinking some iced tea in his glass. His eyes watched the lemon slice bob in the liquid.

“How’s everything?” Sarah asked, appearing at their table a moment later.

“Everything’s great, thanks,” responded Dwight, placing his glass down on the counter.

“You two not from around here?” Sarah asked.

“No, we’re…” Dwight pulled out his phone from his pocket, “About 400 miles from home.”

“Sir Dwight and I are on a road trip,” Gretta stated. Sarah looked between them. 

“You two going to some Renaissance fair I don’t know about?”

“Uh, yeah, you could say that!” Dwight spoke up. “But we decided to leave early so we could enjoy the sights on the way.”

“Oh, how exciting!” she smiled. “Well, I’ll leave you two to finish your meals. I’ll be back to take your plates when you’re finished.”

“Excuse me, miss?” A voice boomed from across the diner. A stocky man on a barstool with a coffee had his hand raised to get her attention. Sarah scurried off towards the man and Gretta and Dwight continued talking and eating their food.

When they finished Sarah came back over and stacked their plates to carry them back to the kitchen.

“Would either of you like to see the dessert menu? I can make a real mean milkshake.” 

“Ooh,” spoke Gretta enticed. “What flavors do you have for milkshakes?”

“Let’s see, we’ve got your standard chocolate, strawberry, and vanilla but I can also do a peanut butter, banana, or a mint chocolate chip.” Dwight noticed the way Gretta’s eyes brightened at the mention of mint chocolate chip.

“I will have the mint chocolate shake if you would be so kind.” Gretta bowed her head towards her.

“Would you like that regular size or sharing size?” 

“How big is the sharing size?” Dwight asked.

“A sharing size is in a bigger glass with two straws but you get some extra in the malt cup.”

“Sounds good. We’ll take that then.” she took her notepad out and scribbled the order in pen.

“Whipped cream and a cherry?”

“Yes, please.”

“I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

Dwight pulled out his phone and began to type away with his thumbs. “We should probably start looking for places to stop at for the night. There’s a premier inn about twenty minutes away from here. I could book us in, I mean, if that’s okay.” 

“Yes of course.” Gretta agreed, her hands secretly fidgeting under the table. “We must get ample rest if we plan to continue our journey on the morrow.”

Sarah appeared a moment later with their mint chocolate chip milkshake. The milkshake glass was filled to almost the rim along with whipped cream swirled into a peak topped by a cherry. She placed the paper-wrapped straws and the malt cup containing the leftovers of the milkshake on the counter, scurrying back off to help other customers. Dwight looked out the window at the sunset’s orange and pink hues, tapping the end of the covered straw on the counter. A light thwack of something hit him in the forehead. Gretta was giggling, about to put the cherry from the top of the milkshake into her mouth. He glanced down to see her paper straw sleeve at his side of the table. 

“What was that for?”

“It was a distraction so I could have the cherry.”

“You didn’t need to make a distraction to have the cherry, you know. You could’ve just asked.”

“True, and yet this way was much more fun,” she snickered teasingly, placing her straw into the milkshake and having a taste. Her eyes grew wide. “Oh. Sweet. Heaven.”

“Good?”

“It is simply divine.”

“Not as good as my blackberry cobbler though, right?”

“Dwight, nothing compares to your blackberry cobbler.”

Dwight grinned at that, placing his staw in with hers in the milkshake and sharing sip after sip all the while their eyes met. They spent another half hour there, deep in conversation taking their time drinking their milkshake, trying their best not to get brain freeze. Dwight paid their check, thanked Sarah, and wished her a pleasant evening. Sarah watched the pair leave hand in hand from the diner. She returned back to their table to clean up the dishes and found three gold coins sitting near the scribbled check for her tip.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, Gretta’s gaze of the road passing by in Dwight’s headlights shifted to the passenger side window to take in the stars that were beginning to appear. She rolled down her window fully, dragging deep breaths of the summer night air into her lungs. Gretta didn’t seem to mind her hair getting a little windswept, watching the night sky as they passed by other cars, illuminated overhead highway signs, and exits. 

“You okay?” he wondered, hoping she wasn’t getting car sick after their hearty meal.

“No, no. Just embracing what little we have left of our first evening on this journey.” Gretta turned to see Dwight lowering his window all the way down too. The wind swept through his dark hair. The boy carried a sweetness in his eyes, all warm gooey brownies just out of the oven at night and honey hues flecked across them when the sun rose. She wanted to keep this. To keep him. Always.

He took in a breath and enjoyed this shared moment, glancing over. She had stopped looking at the sky and was looking over at him. A smile radiated from her before she turned to look back out the window.

Moments like these were what Dwight was secretly looking forward to the most. Witnessing Gretta’s bright eyes and the smile playing upon her lips; she was taking in a sense of freedom she’d never had before. It made his heart flutter with a swarm of butterflies while lightning bugs lit up his soul.

The fact that she had said yes to this idea in the first place spoke volumes. Now, she was beginning to map out her own life the way they were marking roads and places of interest from Dwight’s phone onto their folded map with circles, stars, and even hearts. She was showing him just how truly safe and happy she felt when they were together. 

Dwight really wanted to kiss her. 

He parked at the inn, beneath the warm glow of a lamppost. Their luggage was on the ground next to the SUV, forgotten. Gretta stood under the humming light, gazing into his gentle brown eyes. He cupped her face gently in his hands, brushing strands of hair behind her ears that were now all tousled from the wind. She moved slowly with him for his lips to brush against hers and when their lips met, everything simply melted away. It was the greatest feeling in the world.

And he couldn’t wait to show her more of it.

[dreadfutures]

happy happy HAPPY FRIDAY BLUE💜💜💜 I'm still on my dirthxchel kick, so could we perhaps see those two with: "one lives in the hope of becoming a memory." from the quotes about death prompts?

happy writing friend, mwah🥰

Thank you so very much!!!! For @dadrunkwriting

Pairing: Ixchel Lavellan x Dirthamen (#sunbird, Elvhenan AU)

Rating: um there is an off-screen mass sacrifice mentioned

words: 1841

notes: imagine this is the Haligtree from Elden Ring, at blazing sunset.

-:-:-

The sun filters slantwise through the great tree and paints the world in blood and flame and gold. She finds the metaphor flitting into her mind before she can stop it, and then she thinks that perhaps it is not so much a metaphor as the truth. It would require a Dream to discern if that is so, but before she can ask her companion, he has climbed up onto the stone balustrade that guards against the precipitous drop—and he drops.

She is still unused to these things, and she flinches toward the edge, half expecting to see him falling. Logically, she knows what she will find: her lord drawing the Fade close to warp his form, the darkest of spectral rainbows made into corporeal feathers to grant him flight. That is indeed the case, and today he has let himself embody his spirit-self fully, for gone are all traces of manhood as this serpentlike raven flaps its mighty wings and takes off over this once-great city.

Ixchel clambers onto the stone railing as well, brushing aside rust-red leaves and the bleached-white remains of vines, and takes a seat. Dirthamen warned her not to stray far into this place ("the Husk," Deceit had called it) until he has done his reconnaissance, so she will keep vigil here over this vision of decrepit beauty. On either side of her, braziers burn with eternal flame, and as Dirthamen flies through the city, more light up in response to his presence. They blaze, too hot for the weather; this place is in the early stages of a perpetual autumn, where the summer sun stickily lingers as long as it can. Or perhaps this place was never meant for this season. She has heard of places crafted so that time may never touch them and where the perfect moment is preserved, undying, as long as its dreamers live.

It would be difficult to say. As far as Ixchel can tell, all life has fled this place. No birds call, no reptiles whisper, no insects hum. The only sound is of the dead leaves falling, and the distant whisper and groan of the giant boughs above her jostled by the wind.

She imagines what it might be like to see the city in a more…vigorous state. The bones are there in the stone of this tiered city, ringed around the petrified tree; each level is connected by raised pathways, each featuring a watch tower or bell tower (or both) that points skyward, roofs jagged as though to spear the very heavens. She imagines the sounds of those bells and the occassions that might call for them to ring, although from what she can see they are tangled in the same dead, dry vines that have infected the veins of this place. Carpets of leaves cascade like waterfalls down the intricately-carved walls of the towers, and they glow blood red in the dying light of day.

She looks down, following their spillage, at the raised, circular avenues that top each of the walls. They are so wide a drake might crawl down one, wings comfortably unfurled, and she wonders if that was who once lived here. She knows drakes like cliffs honeycombed with caves, and beneath these avenues, set in the walls, are dwellings and plazas open to the air—perhaps they are similar enough to satisfy spirits-made-serpent?

As her vision scans down the face of a wall, she sees vases full of wilted flowers and mostly wooden stems, and every surface—yes, every surface bears the faintest trace of gilding, long stripped away by the elements.

Shadows fill the courtyards and alleys far, far below, at the bottom of this ringed basin of a city. She can see the ghosts of once-grand trees (mere sprouts, in comparison to the one this city clings to) dimly lit with the glow that pervades the air, reflected off the dull, dead walls. She wonders if the sun ever touches the ground nestled so deep within these walls or if, instead, these trees had to be sustained by caretakers with constant, living magic.

Outside the city walls lies a vast sea of silver water. It is the only thing here that is not burnished, browned, by this static sun. Somehow it, and the sky above, remain pale and nearly white, untouched. Ixchel is almost dizzied, looking at the motion of the waves and their ephemeral caps. They break against the bases of watchtowers that stick out like spokes from the city's rings, connected by thin, crumbling bridges; the waves and the wind contrast with the stillness of the Husk, the crypt, the empty echo of a civilization.

Ixchel is startled from her reverie by another motion, this time from the periphery of her vision. She nearly loses her balance but catches herself with an iron grip on the cracked granite balustrade, and a startled gasp leaves her as she looks to where Dirthamen approaches. His black cloak is covered in dust, as is his hair—or maybe ash, white as it is. He seems not to have noticed her fumble, for his eyes are downcast and a pensive frown creases his brow.

"Did trouble find you?" she asks in a low voice as she hefts herself back onto the appropriate side of the railing.

He does not even glance at her. "None," he replies, "nor did it find those who once lived here."

Dirthamen extends his hand for her, and she reaches out to meet him.

Into her palm, he presses something small.

It is…

"A seed?" she guesses.

Dirthamen nods. "The center of the tree was once reachable by pathways hidden in the city," he says, "but no longer. There is only thick overgrowth where those portals once lay, and I was only able to breach it from above." He took a heavy breath. "It is like the crater of a volcano but so much deeper, and it is scorched and blackened within. I thought to alight upon the bottom, but I sank into a sea of ash so deep and cold I might drown."

Ixchel can almost feel her throat close, breath stolen at the thought, and she clutches the seed closer. She can feel how precious it is, if it came from such carnage.

Her lord blinks his yellow eyes with lashes frosted by ash, too.

"The people here worshiped the Sun, for they grew up around this tree from the time it was a sapling, and they afforded its might to the light it basked in. Thus, when it began to die, they called upon the Eldest of the Sun himself to burn it all."

Dirthamen swallows, then licks his dry and cracking lips. He still stares at the seed in her hand, though she does not think he sees it, or her.

"And them in it."

His words catch in his throat, and Ixchel cannot tell if this discovery makes his voice hitch with swallowed sobs or choked laughter or both. Ixchel is horrified at the thought—how many people must have lived in this city and within the great tree, and what might drive them to such a terrible death by fire. But she bites her tongue, because no matter her unease with it, she knows there is no end to bloodshed in Elvhenan…but sometimes it is given for a beautiful purpose.

She hopes that this is one such time. Dirthamen's manner is not reassuring, however. There are tears in his owl-like eyes; he scrubs at them with the back of his hand quickly, but they splatter across the parched stone and leave unmistakable dark scars in the dust.

"What I thought were cries of anguish rose up, an entire civilization bound in ecstasy and gratitude to Elgar'nan's fire." His smile is joyful, and agonized, all together at once. "The seeds of this tree are coated in a thick resin that is nearly indestructible. Generations of its caretakers collected them. And when it came time for them to die—when they gathered within the hollow of this tree—each resident held a seed in their mouths. Their voices lifted, their senses overcome, they died in flame so that these seeds might find new life!"

Dirthamen draws a shaky breath and pushes back his hair from his forehead, looking up at the Husk with wild eyes. More tears drip from his chin and water the stones beneath their feet. "Isn't it beautiful, Davahn?" he asks. "They freed each seed with their death, and now they await fertile soil—soil that I can give them in my orchard, and across the Fade and the Waking, in places known only to me—where each one may live in hope of becoming a new memory!"

His words are spoken like a fervent oath or prayer, perhaps to the spirits that hold memories of this place, or perhaps to the seeds, or perhaps to the tree itself. Ixchel cannot deny that something in this tale has touched her, too. It still seems senseless to her, but…maybe it is the senselessness of the sacrifice itself that gives it weight. Those lives, if willingly given, put a hefty price on every seed. They demanded action, reverence, remembrance.

They demanded their hope to be fulfilled.

Dirthamen is not one to let such acts be performed in vain, Ixchel knows. But for the first time now… Ixchel feels drawn not merely to bear witness to the strange customs of the Elvhen, as she has before. Instead, she feels called to participate.

There is no one else, after all.

"How can I help?" she asks.

Dirthamen looks back at her with an expression of unschooled shock.

She tightens her fist around the seed, against her breast. "I was here," she says. "I heard the story. You have made me responsible for these memories by telling me, and I want to help."

The sun is setting. It catches the tear tracks on Dirthamen's cheeks like the cracked and fading gilding on the walls,  like he is as ancient and brittle as the land they tread. But in his eyes is a heat, a flame, that is more alive than she has seen it in weeks.

"Very well," he says. "I would not deny you, vun'ean. Let us begin our first task: gathering the rest of the seeds.

-:-:-

Later, she will ask him what and why 'vun'ean.' He will not quite look at her as he describes her: framed by the flaming sunset, the ferocity of her gaze in the face of such a monumental task, the way she speaks to him—as she has always spoken to him—as an equal. She is more fearless and far quicker than he can predict, in spite of or despite her status…like vun'ean. Little sunbird.

"A sparrow?" she repeats, fists gripping the hem of her dress tightl so that she will not spill the seeds gathered in it like an apron.

He does not look at her, but she can hear his smile.

[amalthea9]

❛ you’re not alone. you never were. ❜

Feel free to choose the Fictional Other and Self Insert you feel are the more fitting to explore this prompt at this moment of your life.

Aaww thank you so much for this prompt my dear! 🥰🥰🥰

I had a difficult time figuring out what setting for this prompt. But I decided to just write from the heart. Because fuck it right? These are all real feelings that I've had recently and have processed. So here it goes. Thank you for reading 💜

It was one of those nights. I had been in a place of grieve and loss. I was thinking about the changes in my friend's lives and my placement in them. How my two close friends had become partners and now I wasn't in their lives often. I felt abandoned. I heard the mean voices start in my head. The spiral began.

"You never have had a locally close friend that lasted more than a few years . You've never been able to keep a best friend and this is why.

Because you're too sad. You're too boring. You're too clingy. You bring the mood down. You're not magical like they are. You can keep a local friendship or even a romance in this realm . You're too naive. You're boring. You're too passionate about stupid fandoms."

"And you deserve to be alone."

"Yer not alone. Ye never were."

I heard his voice. Soft, sad, and loving.

It broke through like a ray of sunlight in the darkest of rooms.

I opened my eyes and turned to where Styles stood. His wings were out, a slight flutter to them as he gazed at me with endless love. I smiled a sad smile as I nodded.

"I know, my love. I...I know that the truth is I'm never alone. But..."

"The demons still talk as loud as cannon fire." Styles said, as he stepped up to me.

I sighed and nodded as he wrapped his strong arms around my frame. He pulled me close against him, and I buried my face in his chest.

"Even before we found each other. Ye were never alone, lass."

His whispered words warmed my chest, and I smiled against his chest.

"You're right, Styles," I whispered against his chest. "There was Loki and Thor, when I saw the Marvel movies for the first time. Even before them, there was the fae Puck, the fae Ariel, and Caliban. They weren't present like you are, it's different with you and Horatio. And Bheem and Ram. But they were there to talk to. I was never alone. Even when I thought I was, I don't believe I ever truly was alone. And I'm sure as hell not alone now."

I felt the warm chuckle vibrate in Styles' chest as he held me tighter.

"Aye me starlight, by Neptune's trident," Styles replied softly.

I chuckled as I hugged him tightly. As I did, I heard Ram and Bheem coming through the veil. Their laughter and loving greetings filled my ears as they embraced me and all four of us had a group hug.

It's one of the hardest truths to embrace. I was never alone in this world, and I never will be.

[i-am-beckyu]

questions go brr

Does Tommy have any talents? Like sewing, inventing stuff, drawing, writing, but doesn't realise it? This could be very fluffy because he could be very smart and clever but because of where he grew up he never noticed? Fluff with a side of angst. Speaking of angst, Tommy is going to have quite a lot of it, judging from the rough outlines first chapter, his past, and the snippets. I highly doubt he's going to catch a break. What are the crafts first reactions to Tommy when Phil brings him home? Since Tommy had been living in their walls for the past-how long? He probably knows lots of stuff about them. He probably would mess up all the time by referring to events when he wasn't (supposed to be) there. Now that would raise suspicions. What about lying? While he's lying about where he came from, who his parents are and other things he absolutely could not tell, he would probably do all the normal things a inexperienced liar would do, like avoiding eye contact, fiddling, speeded up heart rate, stuff anyone with eyes would notice. Now that's might raise a few eyebrows. The crafts would have no idea why this poor child is lying to them, they would be so confused! But they probably would respect his boundaries. Tommy is probably a fidgety kid. Why do you think he is like that? Probably because he is so nervous. What kind of stuff does he like, and what makes him unhappy/uncomfortable? What kind of books (once he learns how to read) does he like? Is he surprised how small everything is when he's human sized? What about clothes? What about thunder storms? How does Tommy feel about each of the crafts? What about movie nights? What kind of shows does Tommy like? Do we meet other characters? Is Tommy confused about his sizeshifting? You said it had to do with his emotions. So when he's relaxed or scared he becomes tiny I'm guessing, and when he's angry, tense or any kind of big emotion. He does learn to control it later on though, right? Even when he does, he probably still doesn't have complete control. This would be a tell tail for his emotions, like if he's guilty or sad he won't tell, but his size would give it away. But that's after the reveal. Okay I'm out of questions again.

🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪

I love asking things about the au!

Do you have any prompts/fake titles for me?

-✨anon✨

*dies from happiness over more questions. Is struck by an angel to be resurrected and answer them*

✨anon✨, you have been the death of me. Thank you.🥹

Does Tommy have any talents? Like sewing, inventing stuff, drawing, writing, but doesn't realise it?

Yes! He is very good at sewing! As mentioned in the last ask, he worked on perfecting every skill he possibly could to get better as a borrower. Turns out he had a very good knack for sewing though and would often just sneak into the sewing section of the colony to make or fix items of clothing. (Do not ask me about what other sections exist because I do not know yet 🙃) But sewing is one of the things he would do a lot of to fill time on his own and make himself feel better.

What are the crafts first reactions to Tommy when Phil brings him home?

🤐🥰

Since Tommy had been living in their walls for the past-how long? He probably knows lots of stuff about them. He probably would mess up all the time by referring to events when he wasn't (supposed to be) there.

Yes! I really want to include some things like that. I have a line already written for that in chapter 2 so just gotta think of more lines!!

What about lying?

mmmmmmm. Haven't thought about it before. I definitely agree he's a terrible liar, but I think in my head I have it that he never really has to lie, because he kind of just half truths things in a way that its just plausible to not question him about it. Like they'll ask where Tommy lives, but he'll say something like: Oh um, its sort of nearby. Then they'll ask him to elaborate and Tommy will just go quiet so sbi just moves on not wanting to pressure him. But they are definitely aware that he's hiding something...

Tommy is probably a fidgety kid. Why do you think he is like that? Probably because he is so nervous.

Bang on. He's anxiety boy. He's with literal beings he's been taught are monsters. Very much believes he's gonna die.

What kind of stuff does he like, and what makes him unhappy/uncomfortable?

E V E R Y T H I N G. Tommy just wants to know about anything and how things work. He is so curious and still very much has that child like curiosity about the world. Things that make him uncomfortable though is talking about the old colony and being alone for too long. T r a u m a :D once he becomes apart of the Craft family, if he spends too long alone, he'll slip back into a mind set of he's not wanted. He improves on this slowly over time tho.

What kind of books (once he learns how to read) does he like?

Similar to last question: anything and everything he can get his hands on. Art of War is one he treasures tho (He was given it from Techno after he was caught looking at a few pages.)

Is he surprised how small everything is when he's human sized? What about clothes?

Also 🤐

What about thunder storms?

Surprisingly, he doesn’t mind them. Finds the sounds soothing.

How does Tommy feel about each of the crafts?

🤐again Hehhehe

What about movie nights? What kind of shows does Tommy like?

Movie nights become so much better for Tommy now that he can actually enjoy them and see the entire screen, instead of a partial view hiding behind stuff. First time he gets to watch proper movie night he begs to watch Up because he wants to know why it’s one of the few movies to ever make Techno cry. Soon becomes a favourite.

Do we meet other characters?

As I’ve said in previous asks, I don’t have plans to add more characters atm unless they become relevant to the plot. For now mainly just sbi focused.

Is Tommy confused about his sizeshifting? You said it had to do with his emotions. So when he's relaxed or scared he becomes tiny I'm guessing, and when he's angry, tense or any kind of big emotion. He does learn to control it later on though, right? Even when he does, he probably still doesn't have complete control. This would be a tell tail for his emotions, like if he's guilty or sad he won't tell, but his size would give it away. But that's after the reveal.

Very confused. He very much is just in a state of shock upon realising his suddenly big. And sort of? While it’s in tune with his emotions, it’s not quite controlled purely by emotion that if he feels scared, he’ll shrink an inch or something. Still kinda got determine exactly how it works but that isn’t really addressed next chapter o know that. Comes later on.

LOOK AT THIS!!! MY BRAIN THOUGHT OF THIS!!! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Okay but thank you so so so so so so much for all these wonderful questions and more cookies!

Take these 🍭🍭🍭🍭 and as requested fake fic titles! Do with them as you see fit 🥰

Upon Clouds we Dream

Awaken and see the death you bring

Tremble not, for I am here

(that one has soooo much angst and fluff potential! You could go either end of the spectrum)

Too little too late

In a flurry of sparkles…

(hehe sparkles ✨)

As yellow petals fall

Can humans breathe bubbles too?

(That one is clearly very water focused but hey mer fic anyone lol)

Anyways that’s all I’ve got right now and no pressure to do them all! Just giving some varying options in return for the questions. Thank you again ✨anon✨