#Blessed by this prompt tbh

[tenrosedyke]

a good chunk of my teenage and adult life was spent in a very intense very life consuming depression. like there are genuinely years I can barely remember because it's like I was living in a fog for months and months at a time and I didn't feel anything and nothing brought me joy for so long. and so people would be like "it'll get better:)" and I was like yeah OK sure. whatever I want to kms. But then it actually did get better??? And it is a miracle. Oh my God it's a miracle. I want to fucking scream it from the rooftops. Not being depressed is the most incredible feeling and I've been carrying it for about a full year now. I smile at people on the street and mean it and see beauty in EVERYTHING and I don't need big giant things to bring me joy. I like listening to music on the bus. And cooking for myself and others. And I love putting on weird outfits just to go to the grocery store. And getting into a bed after a nice shower. There is sunshine in my brain and I can't believe how lucky I am that it came back

[untoterxhund]

tbh? might go through unfollow some people as i get the feeling that I'm just a number and honestly? that's not the vibe here. might have to revise my rules page and be way more direct with what I expect.

[faofinn]

10. ‘Can You Be Brave For Me? (Alt. Prompt 5)

@sicktember

As soon as Finn had seen the letter, he'd been panicking. He'd tried everything to get out of it, even asked Steve to not do the scan, so desperately it was almost begging.

Fao hated it when Finn got upset. He loved his little brother, hated seeing him struggling. He knew he hated hospitals, hated appointments, definitely hated scans. 

All his begging fell on deaf ears, and his scan loomed. He ended up staying off school, his absences having kept everyone up. He was allowed a lie in, too, to try and stave off any further seizures. Besides, the longer he was asleep meant that they had less time for arguments and his escapee tactics. 

As per usual, it fell to Fao to take Finn to his appointment. With Sheila busy and Fred working, he had a gap in lectures that meant he could take his brother. Sheila always said Finn was better with him in hospital, anyway. 

They’d given Finn his day off, sleeping in late in the hopes to stop the seizures. Fao hated it, but it was what it was. Hopefully the scan would just be routine, nothing to fuss over. Steve had insisted it was needed, that there was no getting out of it, and when Fao showed up at the house that afternoon he knew there was going to be drama. 

Sheila was glad to see Fao, grateful for the reprieve from Finn. She didn't manage to stay long, just enough to make sure Finn was still in the house and not immediately about to run. There was a rushed apology to Fao, and then she was gone.

They didn’t have long until they needed to leave. Fao knew he ought to get Finn ready, given how long he knew it would take. 

“Finn?”

He emerged slowly, Finn drowning in one of Fao's hoodies. "What?"

“How you doing?”

"I'm sick. I can’t go."

Fao frowned. “Sick?”

"Yeah."

“How are you sick? A cold?”

"Just sick." He huffed. 

“Been sick?”

"Do I have to go if I have been?"

“Just tell me the truth, yeah?”

"Give me five minutes." Finn said, turning on his heel.

“Five minutes for what, Finn?”

"To not lie to you!"

Fao followed his brother, reaching for his shoulder. “Come on, now. It’s alright to be scared.”

Finn shrugged out of his grasp. "I'm not scared!"

“No? I’d be scared.”

"You wouldn't."

“Of course I would. Always am, in hospitals.”

"But you're big and brave."

“I still get scared.”

"You don't."

“I do.” Fao said. “But sometimes when you’re scared, you have to be brave and face your fear. And then afterwards, it doesn’t seem so bad.”

He screwed his face up. "I can try and be brave. But only if you're there."

“Of course I’ll be there, don’t be daft. I’m always there.”

Finn looked up at him, small and scared. "Promise?"

“Promise. They might not let me come in the room with the scanner, but I'll be right there waiting for you on the other side of the doors.”

Finn stepped forward, closing the gap between him and his brother. The height difference was still stark, Finn's arms barely wrapping around his brother’s stomach. He rested his head against Fao's chest, feeling better for just being near him. 

Unfortunately, they couldn't stay like that forever, and they had to leave for Finn's appointment. Finn was reluctant, still scared about the scan. He did his best to be brave, and got into the car with minimal fuss. Despite pretending he was too old, he still clutched Lion to his chest, fiddling with his ear.

Fao let Finn fiddle, lion a staple  comforter for him. It was sweet, really. It didn't take them long to get to the hospital, and eventually Fao found somewhere to park and pulled in. Would he be able to convince his brother to get out of the car? They were early, at least, and they had time before they needed to be inside.  

Finn didn't move as they pulled in, his feet resting on the edge of the seat, his arms wrapped around himself. He didn't want to move, terrified to the bone. His hands shook despite gripping onto each other, the so many months of medical trauma all too fresh in his mind.

"You ready, kiddo? Sooner we get in, sooner we get out."

Finn shook his head. "I don't want to go."

"Yeah, I know. It's not nice, but it's just a scan. You've had loads before, they don't hurt, just a bit noisy."

He hummed. Fao wasn't lying, he knew that, but it almost trivialised the entire situation. "Can we just go home? Please?"

"Afraid not." 

Finn was eventually convinced out of the car, Fao standing at the opened car door. He immediately took Fao's hand, gripping it as tight as he could. They made their way inside, and then through the maze of corridors Finn still felt lost in. 

Unfortunately for Finn, it didn't take long to get to the radiography department. He felt sick and wanted to bolt. Fao must have felt it, as he held Finn's hand tighter, determined to not allow his brother to escape. It wouldn't have been the first time, or the last. 

The wait for his name felt like an eternity, Finn filled with nervous energy. He was annoying Fao with his fidgeting, and had smacked him more than once with his myos. His absences were rife, too, but Fao gave him time and waited for him to come back.

"Finn Daniels?" The radiographer called. "Do you want to come through?"

Finn didn't move, his heart pounding in his chest. He stayed sat as Fao stood, letting his older brother tug his hand to try to get him to move. Confronted by the reality of the upcoming scan, he just couldn't. He couldn’t breathe, couldn't think, couldn't move.

Fao didn't miss the flash of panic in Finn’s eyes, or the way his hand trembled in his. He crouched down in front of his brother.

"Hey. Finn, look at me?" He said softly. "Remember what I said about being brave? And how after, it won't seem too bad? Can you do that for me? Can you be brave for me?"

Finn shook his head. "I don't think I can."

"You can, Finn. I know you can. You've done so much already, this is just a little scan. You can do this."

Finn was coaxed from his seat and then mainly dragged to the scanner. He was allowed to keep Lion, and Fao chatted through the tinny earphones as soon as he could. There was a little rendition of les mis, which made Finn smile, and then it was over. 

Fao met Finn at the doors, his brother immediately wrapping himself around him. He ruffled his hair affectionately before crouching in front of him. 

"Well done, Finn. You were so brave, I'm so proud of you."

Finn's eyes were wide. "You are?"

"Of course I am! Come on, let's go. We'll get a McDonald's on the way home, eh? My treat, but you can't tell mum."

"Really?" Finn's face lit up. "And ice cream?"

Fao laughed. "Yeah, Finn. And ice cream."

[magentagalaxies]

guess who's doing zir music history midterm on mouth congress

[lovelesslittleloser]

Story where some guy says ‘bless you’ to people at seemingly random times but it’s actually because they were about to be possessed/influenced by a demon and blessing them saves them from that. But they have no idea that they’re actually saving those people and they’re just doing it because it felt right

[terrainofheartfelt]

If you're doing prompt request, all I ever want to read is another sequel to you D/N/B fic

hahaha I promise I'm not not thinking about it...but you may have to wait until kinktober.

(but here's the prompts I am doing if you are so inclined...)

[littlejuicebox]

Dadstarion prompt (sorry if I missed the boat on this!) - insecure postpartum Tav, struggling with their new body. Maybe some body worship from Astarion 👀? (Personal experience - I really struggled postpartum with adjusting to my new body, it changed in ways I never even imagined). Thank you and just want to say I love your Astarion 🥰

Adore You

Thanks for your request! Not 100% sure this is what you were looking for, but I already had a mostly finished piece I was working on that definitely fits the body-worship and Tav struggling with her body parts of this prompt. It's smut, though, and when the smut gods bless, I cannot deny their gifts.

Glad you love my Astarion! I adore him. And he adores his Tav. ;)

Summary: You are struggling with your post-partum body. Astarion is here to remind you that he still adores you.

This follows my Dadstarion section of my AstarionxReader series. But no worries, you can read it as a OneShot. Here’s the gist: Astarion is mortal and you have three children together. Gale, named after the Wizard of Waterdeep and the twins. That’s about all you need to know! See my other fics for more info and storylines.

Tags/Warnings: smut with a plot, body image issues, angst w/ comfort, PiV, fingering, oral, light overstim, light daddy kink, breast milk, breast milk drinking, all the depravity i'm generally known for tbh, light creampie kinda?

Word Count: 2.8K

A/N: I'm an unhinged degenerate and no I won't apologize. Also women’s bodies are amazing and can produce life and are beautiful and my Astarion appreciates that about his Tav okay?

“Thank the gods for the nanny,” Astarion says with a dramatic sigh as he enters the bedroom, closing the door quietly behind him, “Gale was about to make me read ‘P is for Peacock’ a third time and I was close to ripping my hair out, darling.” 

You chuckle softly as your husband greets you from where you’re seated at the vanity with a brief kiss and then moves to the small table in the corner of your bedroom to pour himself a goblet of wine. 

“And the twins?” He asks as his eyes watch the red liquid fall into the cup beneath it. He takes a few sips as you speak before setting the cup back down on the table.

“I’ve just fed them not too long ago and now they’re both asleep. Having Winifred to help me get them on the same schedule has been wonderful.” You respond as your husband nods and prepares a second, smaller goblet of wine, which he brings to you.

He settles himself beside you while you finish braiding your hair for bed and hums contentedly, “Perfect.”

Astarion’s hands wrap around your midsection and before you can stop yourself, you feel your body tense under his touch. The silver-haired elf pauses and frowns before retracting his hands, “Do you not want me to touch you, darling? You need only tell me.” 

You sigh and shrug as you finish off the half-portioned goblet in one long drink, mostly to avoid your husband’s gaze,  “It’s not that, it’s— it’s stupid.” 

“Look at me, little love.” He whispers, his fingers coming under your chin as they gently coax you to face him and meet his gaze. He moves forward and presses a soft kiss against your lips before continuing, “I love you. More than anything. You know this. Now, won’t you tell me whatever is the matter so that I can help?”

Your husband waits as you gather your thoughts. It’s complicated, it’s embarrassing. You know it’s silly, and vain, and yet you can’t help yourself. And you aren’t quite sure how to verbalize it all.

“I hate my body.” You finally say, your voice cracking as you speak, and something about finally saying that evil little thought aloud causes tears to spring in your eyes. 

Astarion’s mouth falls open in surprise and then he furrows his brows and quickly wraps his arms around your shoulders, not knowing what to say or do apart from physically enveloping you in his love. 

You continue on, speaking into his neck, sniffling as a few more tears run down your cheeks, “After Gale, I quickly returned to my previous weight. I hadn’t had any stretch marks. But carrying the twins— it’s different, Astarion. And I was expecting it to an extent but I just— I hate my body and I hate the way I look.” 

There is a moment of silence as your husband simply holds you against him, allowing space for your tears. When he speaks, his voice is a soft murmur into your hair, “Not that you should care what I think, but I adore your body, darling. And I love everything about the way you look.” 

You scoff and withdraw from your husband with teary, reddened eyes narrowed at him, “You have to say that.”

“I do not have to do anything,” He retorts, arching his eyebrow in a challenge, “Weren’t you the one that taught me that?” 

When you don’t respond, Astarion continues on, knowing he’s won. He takes your hand in his, gently lifting it to press a kiss against your knuckle. 

“I adore your hands. Which have both slain monsters and soothed our children,” He whispers before trailing kisses up your arm and to your neck where he presses another reverent kiss against those little fang scars. 

“I adore your neck, which once provided me with sustenance I hadn’t known in centuries.” 

Your face is beginning to grow hot under his devoted attention and compliments, and you move to shrink away from your husband, but he gently grabs you by the waist. He leans into you and brushes his nose at the meeting point between your ear and neck as he inhales the smell of your skin. 

“Why are you trying to hide from me, darling?” He asks with a little sulky pout, his chin resting on your shoulder. 

“I’m not, I—“ You begin, but Astarion quickly shushes you. 

“Then just be quiet and let me adore you, hm?” He asks before running his tongue against those fang marks, making you shiver. 

You nod slightly and your husband grins, “Good girl. Now, come here.” 

Astarion pats his lap and you slide to sit upon his thighs, forgetting your finished goblet on the floor underneath your vanity stool. He rests his chin upon your shoulder as the two of you gaze in the mirror together. 

“Do you remember when I used to do this all the time?” Astarion asks, not truly waiting for a response before his long fingers trace down the side of your neck, brush along your collarbone, and then wander toward your waist, aiming to untie your dressing gown. He moves slowly and watches your expression in the mirror, waiting for you to give him any indication to stop. 

But you didn’t want him to stop. Despite your feelings about your body, you still deeply crave your husband’s comforting touch. 

The silky fabric slips down your shoulders and pools around your waist, baring you before his adoring eyes. The elf smiles and presses a kiss to the back of your shoulder, still watching the two of you in the mirror. 

“Beautiful,” He whispers as he peppers a few kisses up your shoulder and the back of your neck, igniting a trail of goosebumps across your skin.

Astarion slowly drifts his hands up your sides before moving to cup a heavy, milk-stretched tit in each hand. The sensation causes you to wriggle. 

His tone is reverent, almost a whisper as he turns his head just slightly and flashes a toothy grin, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks, “I adore your breasts, which have fed our eldest and now feed our twins.”

He chuckles salaciously before saying the next part, “And which, on more than one delicious occasion, have also fed me.”

Your husband lightly teases circles around your nipples as he finishes the line that he knows will cause you to blush and then gently nips at your ear lobe, earning him a gasp. You feel Astarion’s arousal pressing into your backside as he continues to caress your breasts and uses two fingers from each hand to tease and stimulate your nipples. You arch into his touch and your thighs press together as you feel a growing slickness between your legs from his attentions. 

One of your breasts begins to leak milk, and when your husband feels the warm liquid dripping onto his fingers he hums and brings the digits to his lips. You watch in the mirror as Astarion dips the two fingers into his own mouth and licks them clean while continuing to tease your other breast. 

It isn’t long before that one begins leaking, too, and your lover chuckles in delight as he watches the liquid gold trail down the bottom of your breast and languidly drip down your stomach. 

The elf brings two fingers to slowly swipe up the stream of white liquid. Then he brings those same fingers to your lips, prompting you to open your mouth.

“Good girl,” He purrs before pressing those two digits against your tongue. Astarion lingers for a moment and you shut your eyes as you eagerly wrap your lips around his slender fingers and suck. You hear a little hum by your ear and feel your lover’s cock twitch in delight underneath you as he observes the scene.

“You are a vision, love.” He murmurs, as he slides his hand away from your lips, “Now, let me take care of you the way you deserve.”

The elf gestures for you to stand, causing your robe to completely slide off your body into a pool on the floor, before he quickly spins you and then hoists you onto the vanity desk. The smallest flicker of that arrogant rogue dances across his face as Astarion moves forward to dip his tongue into your mouth. He unhurriedly teases your tongue against his as he roams his hands up and down your torso until you're panting and moaning softly into his mouth. 

When he retracts, his pupils are filled with lust. His hands come to quickly pull his shirt over his head and then undo the laces of his trousers. Before long he’s standing in front of you in only his small clothes. 

Astarion grabs your hand and guides it to the bulge straining between his legs as he asks, “Do you feel what that divine body of yours does to me, little love?” 

“Yes– my love, I want–” You begin as you eagerly try to delve your hand inside your husband’s undergarments, desperate to free his gorgeous cock. But he catches your wrist and stops you with a soft tut and a playful glint in his eyes. 

“Soon. But not yet, darling. I haven’t quite finished adoring you yet. And I’ve got the best seat in the house.” He teases, before settling himself back onto the vanity bench and grinning mischievously up at you, “Now, be a good girl and open those beautiful, plush thighs of yours for me, won’t you?” 

You oblige, and Astarion takes a moment to admire you, fully barren to him and already soaked with arousal. His arms come under your knees, spreading you wider for him, as he grips your thighs with his hands. Then he turns and begins pressing tender kisses up your thigh. He makes slow work of the task, humming contentedly on his journey toward your sex and always lingering longer in the spots where you’ve developed stretch marks. 

By the time his face is right in front of your mound, you’re positively leaking for Astarion and he groans appreciatively at the sight. 

“Beautiful. I will never tire of seeing that gorgeous cunt dripping for me, darling,” He murmurs and before you can respond, your husband is delving his tongue between your folds and eagerly feasting upon your juices. 

You moan in delight when Astarion brings his tongue to trace around your clit, so familiar with your preferences that it doesn’t take long for him to coax you toward your peak. His tongue dances expertly around the swollen nub, each pass causing your pleasure to build. Two of his long, pale fingers slide into you, meeting no resistance, and he slowly pumps the digits in and out of your walls. 

You grasp onto Astarion’s curls and whine when he adds a third finger, and he knows you’re close, so he continues his ministrations and adds more pressure as he curls his fingers just so. His other hand comes up to find your nipple and tease it between his fingers as you climb the final steps toward your climax. 

A final flick of Astarion’s tongue, a final stroke of his fingers, and you burst with pleasure, whining in delight as your thighs tremble on either side of his head. Your walls spasm and send another gush of arousal onto the elf’s face. You begin leaking breast milk once again. 

“Delicious,” Your husband murmurs as he pulls back slightly to admire the glistening of your sex and then presses forward and takes one more lap of your sensitive folds, causing you to buck into his mouth as he chuckles against you. Astarion languidly runs his tongue up to your stomach, lapping at the thin rivulets of milk running down your torso and covering his face in a shiny layer of your juices and breast milk.

Then he stands to his full height and finally— finally— steps out of his small clothes. His pale cock springs proudly from its confinement, dripping thin strings of pre-come from the reddened tip, just for you. 

“Get over here, Astarion,” You eagerly demand, voice hoarse from your cries as you hook your legs around his torso and pull him against you. 

“Anything for my little love,” Your husband responds, voice full of gravel as he runs the underside of his cock against your slit, using it to lubricate his length. 

And then the head of his cock presses into you and your mouth falls open as Astarion buries himself to the hilt. His thumb comes to lightly tease your still-tender clit as he slowly rocks his hips back and forth. He’s watching your face intently as he thumbs circles around that needy, engorged bundle of nerves. 

You use your legs to pull the elf deeper and he grins before lowering his head so that it’s right by your ear. He takes the lobe in his mouth and suckles gently, causing you to whimper.

“You’ll do one more for me, won’t you darling? You always look so gorgeous when you do.” He coaxes, his mouth so close to your ear his breath tickles the sensitive flesh. And then he’s pitching his hips just slightly, aiming to hit your favorite spot with the tip of his cock. He’s gasping and grunting now as his own need for release starts to overpower him.

You’re almost there. You’re keening with each thrust from Astarion and your walls are clenching tighter and tighter around his cock. 

He moans in response at the sensation before pressing his thumb harder against your clit and rubbing it with single-minded intensity, working you toward release. You begin to relentlessly whimper again and Astarion smiles, his eyes locked onto yours as he watches your face contort in the feeling of immense pleasure.

 “There you go, little love. Let go for daddy.” He whispers, bringing his other hand to palm the ample flesh of your ass. 

And gods, you do. 

The second orgasm ripples through you harder than the first, and you have to clasp your hand around your mouth to stifle your moan. Your walls are pulsing around your lover’s cock as you ride the wave of ecstasy.

You go almost slack and before long Astarion is ripping your hand away from your face and pressing his lips against yours in a bruising kiss as he begins to rut wildly into you, shaking the vanity with every thrust. 

“Gods, the things your body does to me,” He growls as he pulls away from your lips, snapping his hips at a punishing pace as he chases his own release. Astarion’s hand is clutching firmly into your bottom, gripping so tightly there’s sure to be bruising tomorrow. His curls fall in front of his face and his ears begin to turn red as he continues to fuck you into oblivion.

Your husband is trying with every fiber of his being to hold on, to stretch out the delicious sensation of his cock plunging in and out of your walls, but every stroke into your tightness is pushing him further and further towards his peak. He snaps his eyes shut, shaking with the effort it’s taking him to restrain himself, to continue enjoying the feeling of your flesh gripping around his.

You are so thoroughly fucked that you cannot do anything but hold onto your lover and keen underneath him as he continues pounding into you.

 “Darling— hells — my love, you’re so tight, I can’t— I’m—“ 

And then with a sudden, sharp inhale of breath, Astarion is burying his thick length inside your walls and trembling as his cock twitches, relentlessly releasing its spend. He gasps into your ear as he slows his hips, but continues to rut, using his still-hard length to press his seed deeper into you. 

His praises come out in an incoherent string as he continues to languidly rock his hips back and forth. You cup his face in your hands as you kiss him, and Astarion smiles into the kiss, finally stilling his hips as his cock softens between you two. 

“Come here, little love.” He whispers, hooking his arms underneath you. You intuitively wrap your legs around your husband’s torso and he easily carries you to the bathroom. When he finally places you down, he brushes a few strands of hair from your face and then places a tender kiss on your forehead.

“Now let’s get you cleaned up.” He says, turning to start the tap before tossing a glance over his shoulder and chuckling lightly, “And then I have to fix your braid, dear… I’m sorry to tell you that I ruined it.” 

“I think you might have also bruised my ass,” You respond, turning to flash your bottom at Astarion. 

He drops down on his knees to examine the curve of your ass, one nimble finger brushing against the blooming blue marks. You let out a little whine in response, the flesh still tender. 

Astarion presses his lips onto the bruise and lingers for a moment. Then he pulls away and frowns slightly, eyes glossing across the marks before he looks up at you and says, “I’m sorry, darling.”

“It’s okay,” You respond, glancing back to grin over your shoulder. You see your husband peering up at you, the picture of devotion, “I enjoyed it.” 

“Did you, now?” He asks with an amused smirk, his eyebrow cocking in that signature arrogant way of his. 

You nod just slightly as he places another kiss against those little bruises. His hands travel up your thighs, brushing against the wetness dripping from your sex and onto your legs. Two fingers tenderly stroke between your drenched slit. 

“Hmm, and what do we have here, little love? Is this something else that needs cleaning? Won’t you let me take a look?”

You blush but oblige anyway, leaning forward over the counter and exposing your sex, leaking with Astarion’s seed and your arousal. 

He grins and licks a long strip between your folds, causing you to buck slightly and whimper at the stimulation on your still-sensitive cunt. 

“Too sensitive? Want me to stop?” He asks gently from behind you, one hand wrapped around your thigh.

“No, keep going.” You urge him, bending forward to further reveal yourself to him, eager to feel his skilled tongue pressed into you once more. 

A small groan of appreciation from your husband is all you hear before he delves his tongue back between your legs, working to clean up the mess he made. 

The bathtub overflows and spills water onto the floor before he’s done adoring you. At least for tonight.

[somewhereincairparavel]

How would Jason Grace spoil you? boyfriend hcs list

author's note: ik i have an angsty jason grace prompt in my asks and i swear im working on it! But this idea just popped up on my mind and I've been thinking about it all night yesterday omgg. Let me know if you guys want a Leo/Percy/Frank version of this, I mostly write for Jason since he's my bbg but I might actually do the others this time since the idea is so cute!

I'll start off by saying, Jason is a selfcare supporter bf.

Okay so yk how the Romans in CJ have such high standards? They literally exhibit royal/regal energy, and are super fans of luxury stuff.

Jason despite being influenced by greeks would always be a roman. Whether he likes it or not, there will always be roman blood in him. So he makes these cute/simple ideas for dates/gifts but his execution is just pure sophistication. He's SO simple yet so fancy, and Ik they're contradictions but I promise I'll explain.

like this boy would make sure to run you a nice warm roman bath after you come back from a dangerous/tiresome quest to ease your muscles. Cute and simple right? Wrong. This man would buy all sorts of expensive bath perfumes, bath bombs, fragranted petals, etc to make it extra special for you.

See so this is what I mean when I say his ideas are cute, but executed in a very fancy way.

He LOVES spoiling you with self care products, like sheet masks, lotion, cleansers, hair masks, etc. like he simply does NOT care about the money, as long as his girl is taking care of herself?? That's all that matters tbh

This is mostly because Jason, as a kid soldier, never had any time for himself, the closest thing he's ever done to "selfcare" is probably take long baths + trim his hair lol

jason was blessed with his mother's ethereal actress beauty okay. So selfcare or no self care would have zero effect on him physically bc bro would still look majestic.

ANYWAYS he feels like his inner child just kinda heals when he sees you prioritising yourself and he admires it sm :((

would be ecstatic if you rope him into self care. He would be sceptical at first but then as you're applying a face mask on him he'd be like "wait this is actually so relaxing what" and you love the way his face muscles soften at that. Like he really deserves a break and some relaxation, you'd often trick him into using your skincare products intentionally bc he deserves self care.

once he felt so soothed with the lemon facemask he was wearing that he fell asleep on your shoulder and was all zzz 🥺

and would make sure to restock all your products if they run out.

he feels that the self-care has more of a mental and emotional effect on him rather than physical

Which is what matters to him

honestly?? He supports you if you want to wear makeup. Like he'd think you look gorgeous either way but if you like wearing lipgloss? So be it. You get any lipgloss you want he's paying. He just LOVES that you love yourself too :( and would do anything to make you feel comfortable.

also

Food.

This man loves investing on food. Again, it's bc he never even had the time to properly eat as a legionnaire :(

So he'd love to take you out to places and just munch on tasty food and talk. New Rome has bomb food okay. Bro just never got to eat them.

Lmao he's like everyone's grandma when it comes to food. "Have you eaten? You HAVE to eat!! I'll get you food! Go back to your room!"

would spoonfeed you soup if you're sick bc nuh uh you ain't going without eating hun 😤

hes the worried anxious mother hen bf okay fight me.

Food + selfcare = Jason Grace's love language

[mystic-writings]

tangled up (in strings of emotion) | wilbur soot

PAIRING – wilbur soot x fem!streamer!reader, implied wilbur x shubble

REQUEST – anon - Hi! ok so, i had a very angsty idea. basically, we all know how wilbur had a crush on shubble? basically, my idea is that wilbur and streamer!reader have been dating for a while and the internet loves them (as they should) and reader and shubble are good friends like reader, shubble and niki are all like an iconic trio, but then wilbur starts to distance from reader and spend more time with shubble and you know who catches on first? james. and then jack figures it out, and tommy and niki and the band all have it figured out and niki (i love niki more than life itself) tells reader and the readers like “fuck you, it’s me or her william.” with prompt 9 from “angst prompt 2”?? i feel like that would be really really cool and your angst is absolutely *chefs kiss* :) if you don’t wanna do it that’s fine! just a thought, have a lovely day!!

PROMPT – 9. “don’t make me choose.”

SUMMARY –  you finally find out why your relationship with wilbur is falling apart, even if you didn’t see the signs. 

WARNINGS – angst, hurt/no comfort, tw cheating mentions

WORD COUNT – 2,720

NOTES – i listened to haunted by tswift the entire time i wrote this bc it matches so well tbh | first fic of 2024 & no surprise, it’s ANGST !!

masterlist | taglist form

How have you been so blissfully ignorant all this time?

These past few years of your life, the ones you once looked back upon as the best of your life thus far, were tainted with a dark stain. 

You don’t know how you missed it. All the signs were there, but maybe you were just too happy to believe that something could’ve been wrong in the first place. 

Being a streamer, and a successful one at that, was a blessing you never thought you’d have. It led you to all of your best friends, and to your boyfriend of nearly three years. Wilbur Soot, more commonly known now as Will Gold, who you met through your friends Niki and Shelby. It felt like it was fate, meeting him. You were at a point in life where things just felt sour all the time, and you barely had the energy to create content at the time. Then, around the beginning of January 2020, Niki asked if you wanted to make a video with her, Philza, and Wilbur, and from there things were history. 

After starting dating over the internet for a while, and with the lockdowns coming and going frequently, you and Wilbur met for the first time in his tiny flat in London. It was amazing, spending that time together, just the two of you. Deciding to make things public and when was a tough decision, but you thought it would be safer to do so after you took the jump and moved to England. You’d never forget that conversation, sitting on your kitchen counter at 4am.

“And you’re sure you want to do that?” Wilbur asked. “I mean, moving here, moving across the country just so we can be together it’s- it’s-” 

“A big step, Will. I know. But it’s been almost a year, you know. Restrictions are lifting soon. And I want to be with you. I want to be able to see Tommy and Phil and Niki and Jack easier. I want to be happy.” You told him. “I know I have Shelby here, and I love her with everything I have, but she’s the only thing here and it’s just not enough anymore. I need you.” 

After a long, anxiety-inducing silence, Wilbur sighed. “I know. I need you too. I just want to make sure you’re making the right decision here, you know? I don’t want you to have gone through all that trouble just to get here and find you don’t like it, or something happens and you have to go back, anyway.”

You shook your head, even though your boyfriend couldn’t see you. “Nothing’s going to go wrong, Wilbur. I know what I want. And besides, there’s no place on Earth I wouldn’t live if it meant I could live with you.” 

“I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” 

“You should go to sleep. It’s almost 5 in the morning. You need rest.” Wilbur told you, and you couldn’t help but smile. 

“I know, I know. I’ll talk to you later, though. I promise.” 

“Alright, darling. Love you.”

“Love you, too, Will.”

And it was after a long, unnecessarily stressful process with customs and gathering the right papers, that you finally moved in with Wilbur, who began renting an apartment in Brighton not long after the process began. 

Over a several-week-long process, you met all of your best friends in person for the first time, and it was the best few weeks of your life. Niki especially was excited to meet you, and she was one of the first to do so. 

Life for the next year or so was amazing to say the least. Yours and Wilbur’s respective careers were taking off, his in music and yours in streaming and on YouTube. Everything was coming out on top for the both of you, and for all of your friends. 

Until now, you were the happiest you’ve felt in a very long time. 

You and Wilbur had been travelling for his tour for a while now, both of you putting off streaming to travel with the rest of Lovejoy for their very first American tour. Christmas was closing in, and you were in California, visiting Shelby, Quackity, and a ton of other friends that you hadn’t seen in a long time. 

Wilbur’s show was amazing, as per usual, and you and Shelby spent the whole night glued to one another. Will, like he normally did during the performances when you were in the crowd, kept tossing loving glances your way for most of the set. He even dragged Quackity on stage to cover a song with him. It was truly amazing. 

The trip to see your friends, and the rest of the tour overall, was amazing. After it ended and you all went back to England, you noticed a shift in Wilbur’s behaviour. At first you assumed it was just work stress and post-tour burnout of sorts, but soon it became very apparent that it wasn’t directed at anyone but you. 

You spent a lot of time around Wilbur and your friends, as group hangouts became very common since you were both gone for so long. They were normally hosted at Tommy’s flat or James’, sometimes Jack’s house or round yours. It was always fun, though, and that’s what mattered.

Streams became frequent again, both solo and with whoever was available at the time, planned or not. You even did a subathon for your birthday that lasted a week and a half. You invited everyone in the area to come over for cake, called those who were too far away and everything; it truly was a wonderful birthday. 

Content creation was always unpredictable, and everyone’s lives were hectic, so you weren’t too surprised when Shelby stopped communicating with you as frequently over the next few months. The summer of 2023 seemed to be busy for everyone, including yourself. 

You were helping Tommy with his tours and upcoming plans, and your own plans for the future had you being pulled every which way. Wilbur even bought a house for the two of you, despite the rift that was still forming between the two of you. He spent most nights in his office, playing video games or working on music. 

Still, even with the distance between you, you never would’ve guessed that the others could see it, too. 

It started with James giving you odd looks whenever you’d excuse Wilbur’s lack of presence at hangouts, even when they were at your house. Then Niki, who asked if you were okay on more than one occasion. Then Jack, who came to you about an editing problem and brought up how you hadn’t mentioned Wilbur in a little while, and whose mood seemed to sully when you shrugged and told him it was because he was very busy right now. Then one by one, it seemed everyone was catching onto it, and you nearly shouted at them to leave you alone, because it was your relationship and you didn’t see any problems.

Even if Wilbur barely slept in the same bed as you anymore. Even if he rarely ever touched or kissed you anymore.

Niki. Poor, unfortunate Niki, was the first to find out why. She never told you how, or who told her, but she was the only one who knew. She came to you with it on a beautiful Friday afternoon, a day where you both decided to not stream in favour of a nice, relaxing afternoon in your backyard, drinking coffee at a little table in your garden, full of flowers and flourishing at your hand and hard work. 

She’d seemed off to you the entire time she was there, quietly sipping on her second cup of coffee and admiring the flowers. 

“Are you okay, Niki?” You’d asked, eyeing her with concern. 

Her eyes snapped to yours from the peonies beside her. “What? I’m fine, Y/n, don’t worry.” 

“You sure?” You asked. “You seem… off. Like something’s bothering you. If you want to talk, we can, I mean, we’ve been friends for long enough that you can tell me anything you want. You know that, right?”

“Of course, I’m not an idiot.” She stated, fiddling with her fingers. Her stature was small, eyes attempting to steer clear of your gaze and finding solace in her mug. “I just- I don’t know if you’ll like what I have to say, and I don’t want to hurt you. You’re my best friend.” 

You smiled gently at the girl. “Don’t worry, Niki. If there’s something you need to tell me, I’m sure I can handle it. You can’t hurt me that badly.” 

Your smile faltered when Niki’s weary eyes met yours. “Y/n, I’m so sorry. I only found out last night, and I hate to be the one to tell you, especially because it’s not any of my business, I just felt that you needed to know, I-”

“Niki, calm down,” you reached out to place your hand atop hers, and she turned it over to grip it in return. “What’s going on?”

“It’s Wilbur.” She sighed, and your heart rate skyrocketed. “I know why he’s not acting himself around you.” 

“Is he okay? I mean, he’s healthy right?” You asked. “Why wouldn’t he tell me this himself?”

“Because he didn’t want you to know.” She said, tears forming in her eyes. “He’s not sick or anything, Y/n. He’s… he’s in love with someone else.” 

The world around you could’ve set fire and you wouldn’t have known. Niki’s words rang in your ears, and your heart plummeted from the place in your chest, as if Wilbur himself had dropped it from the safe place you put it; right into his hands. 

“With who? Do I know her?”

Niki only nodded, sniffling and blinking away her tears while yours threatened to fall. After a long silence and a heavy sigh, she squeezed your hand again and opened her mouth, her next words coming out shakily. “It’s… Y/n, it’s Shelby.”

You pulled your hand from hers. “What?”

“They’ve been talking for months now. She told me last night and I haven’t spoken to her since then,” Niki swore. “She said she feels bad for doing this to you, especially because she rejected Wilbur for a long time and you’re best friends. I guess she couldn’t stop herself after a while. I don’t know. All she said was that Wilbur initiated it.” 

“She still participated.” You said, words lined with tears. “Do you know how long he’s been… been pursuing her?”  You nearly gagged on the words. 

Niki nodded. “Since the LA performance in December.” 

Somehow, your heart fell further than it did before. 

Finding out was a blessing and a curse, really. Everything started to make sense once you truly thought it over. All those nights holed up in his office lately, the distance that formed after the tour ended. Those loving glances during the LA show. Somehow, you could tell now that they weren’t for you. 

After you talked and cried more about it with Niki, she left to go tend to her cats in her apartment, and offered a place to stay if you needed it. 

You spent hours on the couch, anxiously awaiting Wilbur’s return from the studio. Your stomach turned with the thought that he could be on the phone with Shelby right now, chatting and making her laugh and telling her how much he felt for her. You almost broke when you wondered if he’d ever told her he loved her. 

Finally, well after sundown, the door creaked open and shut. In walked Wilbur, guitar case gripped in one hand, shoulders sagging from the weight of the day. 

“Hello, love.” You said, barely looking at him, words cold as ice.

He tossed a quick glance at you. “Hi, darling. How was your day?”

“Good.” You said, watching him lean the guitar against the arm of the couch, lazily kissing your head as he did. 

Somehow, after all these months of being emotionally distant, Wilbur could tell something was wrong. “You okay?” He asked as he headed to the kitchen on the opposite side of the house. 

With a sigh, you stood up and clenched your fists. Might as well get it over with. “What’s going on with you lately, Will?”

His brows furrowed as he stopped in the doorway, turning to face you. “What d’you mean? I’m fine, darling.” 

“No you’re not.” You said. “You’ve been distant, and for a while now. You’ve been borderline avoiding me. It’s like you’re not even in a relationship with me! Like you don’t want to be in a relationship with me anymore! Did you know our friends have noticed? Every time I show up to a gathering without you they ask what’s wrong. Where you are. And I have nothing to say because I didn’t think anything was wrong.”

Wilbur sighed, face scrunched with indignation. “That’s because nothing’s wrong. I’m just busy.”

“Really? What, busy talking to Shelby?”

Wilbur’s face fell, the colour going with it. 

“Yeah, don’t act surprised, Will. I know.” You said, the emotion finally flowing back to you. “I know you’ve been seeing my best friend behind my back. I know you’ve been pursuing her for a year. Niki told me. She said you’ve been after Shelby, wearing her down, trying to get her to go behind everyone’s back. After all this time, after everything we’ve been through, and you cheat on me with her of all people? My best friend. The woman who helped introduce us and you didn’t think I’d find out at some point?” 

“Look, it’s not what you think, I just-” 

“Just what, Wilbur?” You asked, biting back a sob. “Just wanted to use me to get to her? I don’t even know why you asked me out in the first place. I knew you had a crush on her before we started dating.” You breathed a shaky sigh, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “I guess I was just naive enough to think you’d gotten over it. Maybe you did, for a little while.”

“I swear, it’s nothing like that, Y/n. I love you, I do.” He pleaded. “Just let me explain everything, please.” 

“I don’t want to hear it. I can’t believe you, Wilbur. You bought a house for us! I moved here for you! We were building a life together! And you tore it all down for her!” You screamed. The neighbours could probably hear you by now, but you didn’t care. You needed to let everything out. “I left my family behind, my life behind for you. That’s how much I love you. I guess you just don’t love me enough to do the same.” 

“Y/n, don’t- I love you, too. We can fix this, I swear. I promise.” 

“Fuck you.” You spat, catching Wilbur off guard. “You don’t love me. Not enough to cheat on me with one of my best friends. So fuck you, William. It’s me or her. You don’t get to have us both. I won’t put myself through that.”

Wilbur’s eyes filled with emotion, with indecision. “Don’t. Please, Y/n, don’t make me choose.”

You stepped closer to him, fury burning through you. “Fine, then I will. I don’t know what the hell you thought you could do when you got yourself into this, but you’re sure as hell not gonna keep dating me.”

Before Wilbur could speak, you were marching upstairs to your bedroom – the room you spent more time in than Wilbur did – texting Niki on your way to pack a bag. Your heart was crumbling to dust in your chest, and the emotion was finally replacing whatever temporary anger you felt, crashing through you like waves, putting out the fire within you. 

Wilbur begged and pleaded as you packed your bag, but you didn’t listen. You just packed whatever was necessary, whatever you could think to bring for the night. You’d come back for the rest later. 

15 minutes later, after a quiet Uber ride, you were sitting in Niki’s living room, crying and wondering what you were going to do next. Because you changed your life for Wilbur, and it was his reckless betrayal that tore it all down around you. 

forever taglist: @just-here-to-escape-from-reality@mazerunnerrose @theboldandthebootyful @miraclesoflove @queen-asteria04 @heliads

wilbur soot taglist: open!

[lachoweek2023]

THANK YOU ALL FOR VOTING and once again god bless @loadednachosao3 for helping out with the forms/designs I have been useless lmao

so here are all the prompts that have won you little freaks over 💙🖤 as a reminder, every day you will get to choose between one of the three prompts (or you can choose two, all three even, I'm not telling you crazy kids what to do)

it's been great to see people (more than we expected tbh) being hyped for this, and I can't wait to see what we will create together

[image ID

DAY 1 Gen: Nacho and Lalo live AU Halloween: Came back wrong NSFW: Honeymoon sex

DAY 2 Gen: First kiss Halloween: Bite NSFW: First time

DAY 3 Gen: Prison Halloween: Bruise NSFW: Phone sex

DAY 4 Gen: Cooking as a love language Halloween: Knife NSFW: Sexual tension

DAY 5 Gen: Only one bed Halloween: Vampires NSFW: "I'm gonna show everyone you're mine."

DAY 6 Gen: "Why would you do that?" Halloween: Hell NSFW: Collars

DAY 7 Gen: Betrayal Halloween: Blood NSFW: Sub/bottom Lalo

end of ID]

[fushiglow]

a short fic for the prompt: satosugu + secret meetings

YOU MOVED ME, ANON 😭 thanks for being my first!! i fear i've set a high bar with the first prompt, because this little fic is closer to 500 words than the 300 i promised…

but look, 'spinning' by ilsey and mark ronson came on shuffle and my mind ran away with it. make sure to listen as you read to set the tone! i cried writing this and i loved every second tbh — thank you again 🫶

Satoru didn’t know how he’d ended up on the steps of the temple again. Actually, that wasn’t true. He knew exactly why he was there. It was the same reason Satoru had found himself on those stone steps a hundred times before — or was it closer to two hundred now? In truth, he’d stopped keeping count after the seventh or eighth occasion they’d met in secret like this. Gojō Satoru wasn’t the only person who sought sanctuary in Getō Suguru — the stragglers filtering out of the wide temple doors were evidence of that — but the truth of the statement didn’t make it any easier for Satoru to swallow. He watched them go, leaning up against a pillar with his hands shoved in his pockets and a petty scowl affixed to his features. ‘Careful, Satoru.’ A voice that wrapped the syllables of his name in safety. It was all he could do to stop himself sagging with the relief of it. ‘You could probably vaporise them with the force of that glare alone.’ Turning towards that sound was involuntary for Satoru. He was a flower helplessly following the sun, seeking out eyes that bore all the warmth of summer. Still, the winter frost that encased that golden gaze wouldn’t thaw immediately — not until the sun dipped below the horizon, taking the last of the worshippers with it. It was only then that the mask slipped, ingratiating simper softening into the gentle smile Satoru loved most. He loved it, because it was a smile reserved solely for Satoru. ‘You need a break, don’t you?’ Gojō Satoru was the strongest. The strongest wasn’t allowed to break. The strongest wasn’t allowed to hide himself away from the world like a coward. But his eyes were itching with overstimulation, his nerves fraying at the edges from overuse of his technique. He nodded. Suguru extended a hand and Satoru took it without hesitation, Infinity falling from his skin like petals from a flower — slowly and then all at once. ‘That’s alright, Satoru.’ The tender kiss Suguru pressed to his knuckles felt like refuge. It felt like home. ‘I’ll protect you.’ Gojō Satoru wasn’t the only one who sought sanctuary in Getō Suguru, but he was the only one who would find it in the temple of the man’s body. He was the only one allowed to crawl into the space between Suguru’s ribs and stay there, tucked safe against his beating heart. It was a blessing and a curse. Because Gojō Satoru was the strongest. The strongest wasn’t allowed to hide. The strongest wasn’t permitted a safe house — and yet Satoru had found one in the arms of the only man who could kill him. For the strongest, there was no true sanctuary in this world. But for Satoru, there was Suguru.

hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it ♥️

if you wanna submit a prompt or request, head over to my retrospring — make sure to read the guidelines first!

[angi-writes-filth]

DID SOMEONE SAY PROMPTS? 👁️👅👁️

Here's a soft one cause I'm sick and I need softness for my sick body.

Dancing in the rain with Luis sounds cute. Especially if the reader is kinda bad at dancing and Luis initiates it even though it's not the time or place for it (but that's okay cause it's Luis). <3

Summary: "These small moments are what heaven is made of".

Note: AAAAAAAAAAA MERI THIS IS SUCH A CUTE AND FLUFFY IDEAAA. Bless your brain tbh SFADFASDSA. ALSO pls get better soon, get plenty o' rest and some warm soup AAAA.

This is gonna be real short but the sweetness is condensed (I hope).

Also ALSO, I HC Luchi owns a motorbike, cuz you can't tell me he doesn't live for the thrill of speed, he deffo has the vibes LMAO (That's only briefly mentioned but I still wanted to explain it ASFADSA--). Plus, y'know, romantic bike rides at night and watching the stars on the highway anyoneee???

WARNINGS/Tags: GN!Reader. Luis being a tease and literally pulling the reader out of their lazy morning, but that's just how he is. My shit English, not beta'd and terrible writing are a must.

WORDS: 861

(dios i wanna bite him)

You've taken to draw little patterns and shapes on the window, from little hearts to your favorite animals, all sprawled and cozy on your old couch where the window sat at; there wasn't much to do after all, with the sudden storm ruining your plans for the day.

Although, if you were honest, it's not like you really cared. Who in their right mind would complain about rain, when it gifted you lazy Saturday mornings like these? A warm cup of your favorite morning beverage on the coffee table, draped in all the spare blankets you could find, still wearing your pajamas despite it being well into the afternoon, while the water drops raced each other to reach the windowsill outside.

These small moments are what heaven is made of.

—So no mall trip, I guess?

His voice woke you from your daydreaming.

Leaning on the doorway was that goofball you called a boyfriend. Hair already brushed, and already dressed in that particular sense of fashion of him; all of the things you were not. Clearly he'd been up for a while; how didn't you hear him walk around the apartment before? You must have been really deep into watching the rain to not notice him.

—Under the rain? Yeah, no thank you—, you answered with a chuckle, emphasizing your point with pulling the blankets closer to yourself, almost making a fortress out of it, that protected you from having to face the day with normalcy. Luis rolled his eyes teasingly as he made his way to the couch, urging you to move your feet as he invited himself to the opposite side.

—Why not?— He whined with a pout, —it'd be fun! And romantic—. He added the last part with a wink, tickling your calf with his ringer fingers over the covers, all teasing as always. At seeing you kick your legs in retaliation, he chuckled softly.

—I mean, I guess? But we'd get wet, even if we go on your bike.

—And?— Luis answered quickly, arching an eyebrow, with that toothy smile of his he only gave you when he had an idea.

—And we'll get sick?

—¡Oh, por favor!

In a second, the Spaniard was on his feet, pulling the covers off of you in a fluid movement, trying his best to appear serious (and miserably failing). 

—Wait, Luis!— Your own laughter betrayed you, too, despite your initial reluctance to do anything this morning. As your man helped you off the couch, his hands on yours as a support, the two of you found your way through the small house to the front door, while your laughter filled the living room with happy colors.

As you shoved your feet into your rainboots, and Luis threw a coat over your shoulders, he slid his own hood on and pushed the door open, running with your hand in his to the middle of street.

The rain, much gentler now that you were outside, patted you relentlessly on the shoulders as you yelled: —What are you doing?!

—Enseñándote a divertirte, that's what I'm doing!

Care and worries out the window, the horrible weather seemed to not matter anymore as you started a slow dance under the rain, sliding across your lawn without a care in the world. Not even the thought of the neighbors seeing you in your pajama pants retained you at this point; although it would be best to ignore that for now. Right now, it didn't matter who you were or where you met him, no scars that left a mark or haunting nightmares you had every night; no thoughts that someone may come and take Luis away from you. 

No, not now, in this very moment. As you stared into his exotic gray eyes, forehead with forehead; and felt your body perfectly molded into his, almost as if made to be together, your soul warmed, and healed the tiniest bit. Your heart beat a little faster; your mind only focused on him and the gentle lullaby of the rain surrounding you.

These, these are the small moments heaven is made of. You, him, and the peace you longed for, for so, so long.

Your feet betrayed you at some point, whether thanks to the slippery concrete or your poor dancing skills. If it wasn't for his shoulders being there to be held onto, or Luis' arms quickly catching you, you might have fallen straight to the ground. Who knows if your pride would recover from that.

—I don't know how to dance...— You whispered. He didn't seem to care, tho; if the scoff and gentle smirk he gave you, pulling your body closer by the waist, were anything to go off.

—You don't need to know how. Not when you're with me.

At this, you chuckled. His thumb, wet and somehow still warm, wiped a lone raindrop falling down your cheek, and traced the soft curves of your face while he was at it.

—Because you'll love me anyway?

Another one of his sweet, loving smirks.

—Por supuesto, mi amor. Don't doubt it for a second.

¡Oh, por favor! = Oh, please!

Enseñándote a divertirse, that's what I'm doing = Teaching you to have fun, that's what I'm doing

Por supuesto, mi amor = Of course, my love

[elvisabutler]

how about a fic where the reader (gn) overstimulates elvis to the point he's crying and like deep in subspace

catharsis

summary: elvis needs to let himself go- to relax. you know know just how to make that happen. fandom: elvis presley | elvis ( 2022 ) | austin butler rating: m pairing: elvis presley ( big daddy ) x gender neutral reader word count: 2384 warnings: sub elvis. overstimulation ( in a way ). soft dom reader. oral ( m receiving ). handjobs. big daddy elvis. this has a one word title and it's big daddy, so expect a certain vibe from it. sexy but a lot of emotion in it. mentions of lifting up his stomach. tiny bit of foreskin and ball play nothing too much. mild insecurity bits on the part of elvis. author’s note: so anon i really enjoyed this prompt and am thankful you sent it to me. partially because i'm not super great at gender neutral but also because it was a nice prompt. so i have a feeling though that you might have preferred this to be another era of elvis and if it means anything i did write a beginning of another era before marina- bless her soul- sort of challenged me with this and was like "you don't see sub big daddy a lot" and i took that to mean let's try it. i hope you like it anyway since i did quite enjoy writing it and if you do want me to redo it i can. y'all know the drill on this, pick real elvis or austin elvis tbh.

Elvis does not necessarily like to give away how he's feeling when it comes to his exhaustion, his pain, his- everything. Sure, he'll let you know when he's angry and when he's happy as can be but when he's stressed or when he's feeling like everything is too much for him? You couldn't pry that out of him with all the bribery in the world. Still, his body- his body has a tendency to give him a way with the noises it produces. You can hear it in the way his knees crack just so or the way his mouth opens in a groan when he stands up to get something from another room. The ones when he sits down though- the groan that sounds like every bit of tension trying to escape him through his mouth? Those tell you just how pent up everything is for him, how much he's in need of some form of release or else it's going to come out as anger at the worst time or just act like a poison in his veins. Being gentle is the way you have to approach this though because you love Elvis lord help you but you do, but he can be skittish when it comes to things like this.

"Buntyn. You feeling alright?" You murmur, inching your body closer to his on the couch. He won't bolt and he won't lie if you're gentle if you take things slow with him. He won't lie if you allow yourself to lean your head against his shoulder, almost as if you want him to wrap his arm around your body and pull you closer into his warm plush body. He won't bolt if you allow yourself a moment to drape your arm across his stomach to pull him that much closer to you as if you're one.

The way his head turns to you slowly, almost as if his head has to extend a truly obscene amount of effort to actually turn to you, has you nearly asking again if he's alright, if he's taken his sleeping medication again to block out the way you know his mind is racing. Or perhaps he took something else, something for the headache his eyes are giving him this week. No, it's purely just done because he knows with you he can be slow, can savor the moments of having you near him, curled into him. His voice sounds rough, tired truly but it heightens his accent in ways that have you holding your breath. "Tired, Satnin. Ya know how I get."

You nod, your hand trailing across the expanse of his stomach, watching for him to attempt to shoo your hand away or suck it in to keep it away from you. You feel him shrink in on himself just a bit and you can't help the frown that crosses your features. Here was your partner, the love of your life, your rock shrinking himself down when he was always so much larger than life. If you could take away the insecurity once and for all just to allow him to enjoy these simple touches. To him to realized no matter what came to be there was no reason to shirk away. Every part of him, every inch of him was yours to have and hold and cherish just as he did yours. Even if he did stray, you knew what you were getting into from the get go.

"Satnin-" He starts before you shake your head, shushing him quietly.

"None of that Buntyn. Let me take care of you. Let me help you." Help him relax, help him feel good, help him with whatever could help him with.

The tension is his shoulders start to dissipate the second the words leave your lips. His eyes rake over your form before his lips upturn just a hair. "Gotcha work cut out for ya then."

The hand that had started to trace shapes on his stomach started a slow descent past it lifting it up the paunch and grasping at his uncut and partially aroused cock. "Not too much," you start, moving your hand back out from under his stomach, spitting on it before starting to run your hand up and down his shaft. There's a subtle but noticeable hitch in his breath as you move your hand almost as if he wasn't expecting it. As if he wasn't expecting the way his body immediately reacted.

Your thumb brushes against the tip as you inch back the foreskin of his cock. His hip buck involuntarily as you hum. It's almost as if you feel the need to study him. Feel the need to make sure your actions are heading the the right direction. Your grip tightens as you continue to have your thumb play with the tip even as the rest of your hand moves up and down. There's a throbbing between your legs as you focus only on Elvis, only on his pleasure, watching his face contort as he growls and groans and sounds that are downright animalistic pour out of his mouth. It's been a rough month and you both know it. Know just how much he needs this so he allows himself to trust you as he always does.

"That's my good boy. Letting me take care of you like this. Letting me help you." You practically coo the words, a sharp contrast to the obscene noises coming from under his stomach and between his legs as your hand pumps quicker, his copious amount of precum providing more ample lube than your spit had. "Wanna tell me what you want, Buntyn? What I should give you?"

Elvis eyes you through his hooded eyes, the choice you're giving him causing his arousal to curl further into his abdomen. "Mouth." A simple one word answer but one that requires more of an explanation. As if sensing that he needs to elaborate more he swallows and continues, his brain quickly starting to become more fuzzy the more he feels your hand and watches your hand play with him. "On me."

Now that was more like it. That was more like it, your good boy telling you, asking you what he wants. A hum of delight leaves your lips as you oblige, shifting your position on the couch and lifting up his stomach to fully allow yourself access to his cock. You shouldn't tease, you think, but there's something exquisite in looking up through your eyelashes at him and watching how his head tilts back at just your breath against the tip of his cock. There's something exquisite in how he knows when you're doing this he's not supposed to touch unless you give him the cue so his hands are curled into fists grabbing at the fabric of the couch- clawing at it. You place a kiss against his tip and hear what almost sounds like a whine leave his lips before you place another and another all over his cock. Still not actually taking him in your mouth, waiting to hear one final word before you do. Waiting to see if he's inching toward where you need him to be for this to achieve what you want it to. A hand of yours moves up to grab at one of his own and he greedily takes it as you place another kiss to the tip of his cock and he lets out another whine, this time with a word attached. "Please."

That flips a switch for you, allows you to immediately take the tip of him in your mouth, allows you to suck slowly around the tip before pushing him any further in his mouth. Your tongue plays a bit with the foreskin, trying to slip under it a little as he has to force himself to not buck into your mouth. Instead his grip on your hand tightens his rings digging into your flesh and clanging against yours just a little bit. He can't help but writhe a little though, even as he keeps the rest of his body still. You look up at him, trying to study his face and find him with his mouth open practically panting and groaning softly as his eyes flutter shut. He's almost there, almost where you feel he needs to be, he's losing that part of him that's trying to hold him back, that part that tells him to control how he's feeling and reacting. He deserves something for it, deserves to have your mouth finally take him fully, your lips closing around him and taking him deeper into your mouth.

A whimper leaves his mouth at that, at the warmth of your mouth fully enveloping his cock. He doesn't- he wants to let himself fall, let himself fully give himself over to what you're trying to do but he shouldn't. He shouldn't and yet he feels your free hand play with his balls, feels your free hand add just that little bit of extra something that has his hips rocking just barely against your mouth. You're trying to take care of him, trying to make him feel good in a way only you truly can. "Satnin- Y/N- let me, gotta take it easy on me." The words are choked out, almost as if he's trying to hold on to the last vestiges of control before he looks down and sees the look in your eyes. The look that tells him you have no intentions of taking it easy on him. That you want to see him relax. It has his heart stuttering in his chest for a second before he takes his free hand and touches your hair, tries to grab at it as he shakes his head. "Gonna give me those little deaths, ain't ya?"

You're gonna have him crying, he knows it, you so rarely do this but when you do all he remembers after the fact is how his brain shuts off, how he can only remember your mouth, your hand, your hole because that's all there was. The sensations of everything taking him to a place where he doesn't have to worry about a damn thing. Your lips have curled into a smirk around his cock as you nod, somehow in sync with the way your head bobs up and down. It shouldn't be what has him finally letting go, it shouldn't but he thinks it might be. You feel something almost at the same time he does, feel how his body is going a little lax though you know you want him to tighten just a bit more before feeling every bit of tension flutter away. You know- You remember the last times. "Gonna- Y/N- don't. Play nice."

He mutters the words breathlessly, almost as if he doesn't know what he's asking for and you take it to mean don't play nice. Since playing nice in this situation is pushing him to the brink. Your mouth tightens and your hand moves around, playing with his balls, rubbing where your mouth can't touch, playing with his stomach as his noises above you get to be more intense. You hear what feels sounds like a sob, and almost pull away before he pushes you back down onto his cock. It's not him asking you to stop, it's him doing what you're asking of him, doing what you want him to do in this moment. It's him letting go, allowing himself to feel what he wants to feel, to release what he needs to release in these moments.

It's just you and him and the way his brain isn't thinking on anything but your mouth and his cock and your hands and his cock and how he just feels the care and love you feel for him in this moment. How you just want to be there for him, how you're there to take care of him like he does for you. The world is just nothing but both of you and the pleasure he's chasing as he feels every breath from your nose and every imperfection on your skin and on his as they meet. It's nothing but the noises and tears you're pulling from him as he feels himself slowly building toward his orgasm. You pull away just a bit and he whines and hears himself through a tunnel saying don't before you smile and keep your mouth on his cock.

Normally he'd warn you he's about to come, normally he'd tell you ahead of time because it can be a downright mess if he doesn't but in this moment he doesn't even realize he's about to until it starts to shoot out of him and down your throat. His hand on your head falls to your shoulder as he can't even force himself to keep a hold of whatever sort of grip he might have tried to have on your hair. You feel his muscles relax in a way they don't even do when he's asleep and you know you've done what you set out to do. You realize as you're struggling to swallow and not choke on his copious amount of cum that it's worked. Elvis is more- Elvis got what he needed from you, what he needed in general. When you think he's finished you slowly ease your mouth off of him and look up at him. His head is tilting forward as he looks at you, his hand that's on your shoulder moving to wipe off the excess cum from the side of your mouth so gently you shudder despite yourself. You might have cum but it doesn't matter if you have or not because he did, he's had his release that has tears still coming up every so often and has you nuzzling his thighs and placing a kiss or two on his stomach and chest as you finally reach his mouth while a small smile.

"Bath?" He whispers, sniffling just slightly.

"Gotta take care of you after you let go." You answer, nuzzling at his nose, and running your hand through his hair. "Can you stand up? Or do you need a minute."

He nods before he holds up a finger. "Just a minute."

"Take all the time you need, baby boy."

taglist: @ab4eva, @butlersxbirdy, @precious-little-scoundrel, @eliseinmemphis, @blurredcolour, @steph-speaks, @softsatnin, @powerofelvis, @thatbanditqueen, @mooodyblue, @notstefaniepresley, @tacozebra051. i am going to actually make up that taglist form tonight or this week. apologies if you wanted to be tagged and i didn't tag you.

[faofinn]

14. 'I Might Be A Teeny Tiny Bit Sick, But It's Fine.'

@sicktember

Within the week, Harrison had succumbed to the cold the family had all suffered through. Miserable in bed, he was just happy that they'd gotten through Christmas. The boys were all still off, though, in that weird post-holiday daze. With   his immunosuppressants, he'd known it would be a case of when, not if, he'd catch it. 

Still, it hit him like a freight train. He'd had the start of a sniffle when he woke up, but by lunchtime, he was stuck on the sofa. Each movement set him off coughing, each sniffle and sneeze making everything ten times worse. 

Taidgh was worried about his husband. They'd all been hoping he'd avoid the cold the others had had, even though they knew it was unlikely. His immunosupressants just made it more worrying, the likelihood of him getting more sick looming over their heads. He fussed the best he could, but he knew what Harrison was like. Too stubborn for his own good. Next to him in bed, he worried at every cough, listening to every breath. 

Harrison tossed and turned, eventually giving up as it turned light. He headed downstairs and settled on the sofa, wrapped in the blankets there. His paracetamol had yet to kick in, and he felt awful.

Taidgh hadn't had much sleep either, but he must have dozed off at some point, because when he rolled into his space, he found it empty. Sheila had taken the boys overnight, so Harrison could rest, and it gave Tai the space to worry about his husband without the kids underfoot. 

He grabbed a hoodie and headed downstairs, worried. “Hars?”

Propped up on the sofa, Harrison had eventually fallen asleep. The tv played quietly in the background, reruns of infomercials and crappy adverts.

When Taidgh didn't get a reply, he was even more worried. But as he came downstairs he found Harrison on the sofa, asleep and curled up in about a million blankets. With a sigh, he headed into the kitchen to make tea for the pair of them, plenty of honey in Harrison's. 

Tais pottering on in the kitchen woke him up, leaving him dazed and confused. He barely made it to sitting before he started coughing again, struggling to catch his breath between bouts. 

He was more than a little grumpy, pissed at Taidgh for being so loud. He always was, it was usually part of his charm, but when Harrison wanted peace and quiet? Far from helpful.

Tai settled next to Harrison, humming. “Made you tea.”

"I don't want tea."

“Honey in it, to soothe your throat.”

“I’m not sick. I don’t need it.”

“Mm, sure. I’m sure I married you with that fucking awful cough, come to think of it.”

“Oh, piss off.” He grumbled, falling into Tai’s lap.

“Coughed all the way through the vows.”

"Stop." He gently slapped Tai's knee.

“Why I married you, really.”

"Shut up." He shook his head, adjusting his blankets. "I'm trying to sleep."

“I love you, you daft sod.”

"You30'.re just saying that to be nice."

“I’m always nice.”

"Only when you want something."

“Ouch.” He said, reaching down to run his hand through Harrison’s hair. “I’m worried about you.”

Harrison hummed in content. “I’m fine.”

“Mm, sure you are.”

“Okay, fine. I might be a teeny, tiny bit sick. But it’s fine. I’m fine.”

“A teeny tiny bit, eh?”

“I already regret saying anything.”

“Of course you do. You need to be careful. Should I call your doctor?”

“God no, they’ll just admit me.”

“Maybe for good reason.”

"Tai, no." He whined. "I'll be fine, I just need to rest."

“You just said your doctor would probably admit you!”

"They're just being dramatic. I'm gonna go to bed."

“At least stay put here for a bit. You look comfy.”

He sniffed. "I was until you started bugging me."

“Alright. Have a nap, then. I’ll keep playing with your hair.”

Harrison hummed, already drifting. "I'm not even tired."

“Mmhmm.”

"I'm fine."

“Sure you are.”

He'd almost fallen asleep when he started coughing again. Back pressed up against Tai, he groaned,his body shaking with effort exhaustion.

Tai rubbed his arm in an attempt to soothe him. “Oh, Hars.”

"I might not be okay."

“You sound awful. Why don’t we call your doctor?”

"Maybe we should."

“I’ll call. And Sheila, too. She can have the boys tonight.”

"Can she?"

“I'm sure if she can't, Fao or Finn can. Let's worry about you.”

"Can we just stay here?"

“Let's just see what they say.”

"Just for a little longer. Go to bed, lie with me."

“Half an hour in bed.” Tai agreed reluctantly. “And then I’m calling.”

[occasionallyprosie]

"Too Much Like Hell"

Link was more well-acquainted with death than anyone else, and it was not because he witnessed it so many times. It was because he experienced it more than any other and he still came back.

Febuwhump 2024 | Alt Prompt 6: Immortality

Read on AO3 Warnings: None (Barely even counts as angst tbh...)

He had been eight and wielding his uncle's blade naturally. He had been trained since he could walk to be a warrior after all. It didn't matter much against the lynels on Death Mountain though, he still was burned alive.

He had been twelve and drained of all life by Onyx. Din had nothing to do with his survival.

He had been fifteen when he drowned.

That was the last time he died.

He was nineteen when he met the heroes of past, adjacent, and future, and he was twenty when he said his goodbyes to them and went back to his era.

He had lost track of his age when he saw them again.

"Hey! Pikango!"

He looked over and saw a large group of warriors--men and boys--approaching his vantage point, one waving at him.

"Ah, Link," he slid his paintbrush behind his ear, "welcome back to Hyrule."

"Back--I'm not even asking how you know," Link laughed.

"Who's this, Champion?" Asked one of the men.

"Oh--This is Pikango, an artist from Kakariko. He's a great artist, better than the vet even!"

"Oh," one of the boys breathed.

'Pikango' met the boy's eyes and he just smiled.

As the heroes chattered and moved to go on, Link waving back at 'Pikango' as they did, the hero in red lingered.

"So old age isn't an option?" He asked. There was a ripple around the other and there stood what had to be a copy of the hero, only in traditional Sheikah garb.

"No," the Sheikah said.

"Goddesses." The Hero of Legend looked exhausted as he raised his eyes to the bright sky. "Why? I don’t want to be immortal."

The Kakariko painter just smiled. "Nobody does. It's a far more terrible fate than any I've seen before… and there is a certain point when they will deem your journey as finished but you'll still be here… just to watch the world go by."

"That sounds like hell."

"It is, in a way, but we're always meeting new people, making new friends, and exploring new lands."

"And watching them die, losing them, and seeing it be destroyed?"

"More often than I'd prefer. Once, Ganondorf came back, and there was no hero. I tried to step up, but they were clear." Two sets of crimson eyes met again. "I'm a story now, little more than a legend, but so long as that story is told I remain and so will you."

"Hey Veteran!" One of the other heroes called back. "Leave the elder alone!"

"Jump off a bridge, Captain!" the hero yelled back. He turned back to the painter. "No rest for the wicked then?"

The painter chuckled. "I'd say that the idiom 'Legends never die' is a tad more accurate."

He hummed, then looked back at the other heroes. "Do you want to talk to them? Drop the illusion?"

"I'll be alright." A ripple accompanied him retaking the form of a Sheikah elder. "It was good enough just to see them again."

The hero nodded before jogging after the group.

"What was that, collector?" Wild asked.

Legend shook his head. "Nothing. Just seeing if art changed over history, Nayru knows I can't talk to any of you about that."

Wild laughed. "Fair enough. Pikango is the best artist in all of Hyrule, no offense. He just is."

"If you say so," Legend hummed.

He glanced back and saw an old wolf joining the painter at the setting sun. The painter pet the old wolf and continued painting the sunset behind Satori Mountain.

"Hey Rancher," he called forward and Twilight looked back. "What's your thoughts on immortality? A blessing or a curse?"

The topic drew the attention of the group, confusing Twilight as well, but he thought about it.

"I don' think I'd like t'a outlive everyone," the rancher decided. "It sounds like an awful thing, t'be honest wit'ya, Vet."

"But you'd live forever!" Wind argued. "What if someday there were ships that could fly without magic?"

"Doubt it," Hyrule teased.

Legend looked up at the colorful sky and could see one of Wild's dragons flying overhead, the electric one. "I agree," he said, partially to Twilight, partially to all of them, and partially to the goddesses who made him. "It sounds just a little too much like hell."

Event Masterlist

[thejujvtsupost]

The Weekend is a Blessing

The Prompt List is popular and so is Nanami today! A little drabble for prompts #6 and #30 coming up. Thank you to both anons 💗

Notes: GN!reader, fluff, sfw pillow talk, teasing, really cute tbh, Nanami works too much, post Shibuya incident - everyone lived.

Your loving husband of just under a year came home as he usually does: exhausted and his cursed energy run down.

The amount of times Nanami’s been called in for missions in the last two months has increased significantly from the Shibuya incident. This would be his first weekend off in ages and you planned on doing absolutely nothing but sleeping and relaxing together. It was exactly what he needed to refresh his energy after working so hard.

Nanami entered your shared bedroom with his hands already fumbling with his buttons, his entire body screamed sleep deprivation and you turned down the tv you had on for background noise. You struggled to sleep without your husband by your side and often waited for him to get home.

“Kento? Do you need help?” Sympathy rattled in your chest for your husband who was still adjusting to the nerve damage and numbness in his arm. Shoko was talented and reduced the damage and scarring to his arm, but even she couldn’t fix everything.

Still, you were lucky he was alive. So lucky.

“No love, but thank you. Just give me a minute and I’ll be right there.”

Sometimes Nanami had to ground himself before he could spiral into a fit of self doubt. He knew you couldn’t sleep without him and he was unable to finish his work at a normal time to be with you at night.

You worked at the school with much more regular hours, hours that started early and often ended when Nanami was on assignment.

You ignored him, got out from beneath the covers and took over unbuttoning his shirt. There were fresh bruises forming on his cheek and chest but he wouldn’t let you do anything about it until morning. “You are so stubborn.”

“And you’re impatient.”

You both smiled at each other’s teasing, Kento, as serious as he could be at times, wasn’t afraid to be a menace. His clothes were quickly dropped into the hamper before you both got comfortable in bed.

“Can you blame me? My husband is home.” Your head found its way onto his chest as always and soon your limbs were tangled together.

Nanami hummed, “I’m sorry for being so late, mission ended up being more difficult than expected. Yuuji did well though, he handles pain better than most.”

“Yuuji’s hurt?” You immediately sat up- well, tried to but Nanami held you down. “He’s fine, darling. Barely a scratch.”

Yuuji was important to both of you, all of your students held a special place in your heart but Yuuji… Yuuji had no real family left. “Promise?”

“I promise.” Nanami kissed your lips, then your forehead and it wasn’t long before you were both fast asleep, unable to keep your eyes open.

You’ll check on Yuuji in the morning.

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