#LISTEN i am all for letting fic writers do whatever

[breninarthur]

you ever settle in for some nice fic reading and end up reading the most harrowing shit of your life

[harmonicakai]

Powerslide

Pairing: Yeonjun x Reader

Summary: Usually, your best friend’s player roommate is the most annoying person on earth, but after your date ditches you, he’s more than willing to step in as a replacement.

Tropes: enemies to whatever this is, frat boy!yeonjun, bff!taehyun, college AU, soft dom!reader, sub!yeonjun, kinda exhibitionism & dacryphilia

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: smut (mdni!!!!!!!!!!), mentions of alcohol

A/N: My friend really wanted a Yeonjun fic to happen and I suddenly felt like writing this. I am NOT a smut writer, so this might not be very good, but I tried <3

“Damn baby, I'm a train wreck, too I lose my mind when it comes to you I take time with the ones I choose And I don't want to smile if it ain't from you” —Boyfriend, Ariana Grande & Social House

The guy you’ve been seeing has pissed you off for the last time. As soon as you got a text asking to reschedule tonight’s date, while you were already standing outside of the restaurant he was supposed to meet you at, it was over. 

You reply for him to go fuck himself and trudge back to campus to complain to your best friend, Taehyun.

Despite the two of you becoming almost inseparable after being paired up in organic chemistry together, it’s clear to both of you that it’s just a platonic thing. If you had to pick which one of his friends you were most into, it’d be his roommate, Yeonjun.

Except he pisses you off more than the guys you actually go out with. You can’t recall a time where you’ve ever talked to him sober or he hasn’t shamelessly flirted with you in front of whoever else was involved in the conversation. 

You know he sees girls as pawns and not people, and so you don’t even bother thinking about the two of you together. Until he answers the door instead of Taehyun, fresh from the shower, water still dripping from his hair onto the towel barely clinging to his waist.

“Where’s Taehyun?” you ask. Your line of sight naturally falls on his bare chest, but you do your best to look up at his face. He’s smirking at you.

“He’s got a soccer game,” Yeonjun says, stepping aside to let you into the common room. “Should be over soon if you want to wait for him.”

You walk past him, plopping yourself onto their small couch. Yeonjun’s eyes don’t leave you, taking in your full date night outfit and the way it hugs you perfectly.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks. You can swear you can hear him about to burst out into laughter as he watches you go through the five stages of grief. “You had a date tonight, didn’t you?”

“How do you know that?” you sit up, finally locking eyes with him. By now, he’s got a full fledged grin on his face.

“Taehyun told me,” he shrugs, his towel becoming looser with every movement. “Listen, I was just being nice and asking. If you want to ice me out like you always do, go ahead.”

His honesty makes your face heat up in anger. Yes, you’ve never been very nice to him, but for good reason. He’s just another fuckboy in a frat, and you’ve dealt with enough of those in your first years of college to know better.

“I can be nice,” you scoff, turning to look out the window. It’s so dark that all you can see are the streetlamps in the distance. 

“Then by all means, show me,” he says, his voice shifting from playful to something more serious. “I’d really like to see how nice you can be.”

There’s something about the way he’s talking to you that feels good. Wrong, but good.

“Fine,” you relent, looking back to see he’s gotten much closer to you than before. “But you need to go get dressed.”

“Am I distracting?” he smiles, tilting his head at you. You roll your eyes.

“More like nauseating,” you lie. He is distracting, just like usual. The only thing that really keeps you from giving him a chance is how annoying he is, but for some reason, you’re happy to entertain his advances tonight.

“I’ll be right back,” he says before walking into his bedroom. When he comes back, he’s got a red hoodie and ripped jeans thrown on, his hair still damp and messy. “Better?”

“Much better,” you approve. He nods before sitting down next to you on the couch, close enough so that his hand can graze your knee without it being obvious that he’s totally doing it on purpose. “Do you really want to hear about my love life?”

“Hmm, what else would we talk about?” he hums, his gaze locked on your glossy red lips. You can feel your face heat up, prompting you to scoot further away from him. 

“We could talk about yours instead. Although, from what Taehyun tells me, I’m not sure you’re even capable of love.”

“Ouch. I could be, you know? For the right girl.”

“And who’s the right girl?”

“You.” You want to laugh at how ridiculous this all is, but Yeonjun’s breath is hot against your neck, and he leans in to place a single kiss against your sensitive skin. “I can treat you better than any of those other guys, Y/N. Let me show you.”

Fuck it, you think to yourself. He’s here and he’s hot and he’s desperate for you. You turn to face Yeonjun, crashing your lips onto his. He tastes sweet, no doubt from the bubblegum he’s always smacking whenever you’re around.

When he moans into your kiss and grips his hand in your hair, you feel a shockwave in your core. You climb into his lap, his hard-on nestling in between your legs. He groans at the pressure.

“God, you’re so hot,” he gasps in between kisses. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this.”

“Trust me, I know,” you laugh. “You make it so obvious.”

“I can’t help myself around you, Y/N.” He snakes a hand underneath your skirt, his fingers feeling how he’s already got you soaked through your panties. It takes everything in him not to finish right then and there. “Can I touch you?”

“Not now,” you say, your hand gripping his wrist and pinning it against the couch. Tonight, you’re in charge. “Maybe if you’re good for me, we can do this again.”

“Please,” he sighs as you grind your hips into him. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

You never pegged Yeonjun as someone who begs in the bedroom, but you aren’t complaining. You pull away from him, moving off of his lap to beside him, your hand palming his erection through his jeans.

“Fuck, that feels good,” he says, his eyes squeezed shut and fists clenched. You bring your free hand up to his chin, moving his head to face you.

“Open your eyes,” you tell him. “I want you to look at me.”

“I can’t,” he stammers. “I’ll cum if I do.”

“You aren’t allowed to cum until I say so,” you whisper, sucking at the sensitive spot on his neck. His breathing grows heavier by the second. “Yeonjun. Look at me or I will never let you touch me again.”

His eyes shoot open and he’s not sure how much more he can take. Sure, your body is to die for, but it’s always been your face that he likes the best. Seeing you with messy hair and smudged lipstick, all because of him, is an image he won’t be able to get out of his head for months.

“You sound so pretty for me, baby,” you tell him, moving your hand faster. He could really get used to you calling him that.

By now, he can’t control his moans and tears start to run down his face. All he can do is whine your name over and over in the hopes that you’ll finally give him permission to finish.

As if it weren’t agonizing enough, the front door’s handle starts to jiggle. “Hey, Jun?” Taehyun’s voice calls from outside. “Can you let me in, man? I forgot my key.” 

Yeonjun’s eyes go wide at the sound of his roommate. You reach up to cover his mouth. “Be quiet, Junie. You don’t want Taehyun to hear you, do you?”

He shakes his head as you continue palming him through his pants, one of your fingers slipping into his mouth. He moans around it. 

Taehyun starts banging on the door. “Dude, are you asleep? Wake up! I need to shower and get to bed.”

You laugh at the nervous look on Yeonjun’s face, cupping his cheek with your free hand and placing a soft kiss on his lips. “Cum for me, baby. It’s okay.”

Your words send him over the edge and he’s bucking his hips into your hand just seconds later. He does his best to keep quiet, although not even your kiss is enough to dampen the string of profanities that leave his lips.

When he’s done, he stares at you with sleepy eyes and the most satisfied grin on his face. Both of you look down at the wet spot on his crotch. He’s never going to be able to wear these pants again.

“Go change,” you say, patting his cheek and getting up from the couch. You smooth your hair down and fix your skirt into place. “I’ll get the door.”

Yeonjun knows that every time he looks at you now, he’ll be thinking of coming undone under your touch. He quickly scrambles out of the room before you can let Taehyun in. 

“It’s about fucking time, man,” Taehyun scoffs, his eyes locked on his phone. When he looks up, he’s shocked to be greeted by you instead of his roommate. “Y/N? What the hell are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you,” you say, smiling at the confused look on his face. “I wanted to tell you about my date.”

“Oh, yeah, that was tonight. Sorry, I picked up a game at the rec center.”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him, following him into his bedroom and shutting the door behind you. “Yeonjun kept me company.”

—————-

Taglist: @orangesodafoam @ur-mother-realnotclickbait @iyeeeverydee @internet-folks @darlingz99 @foxyjun @niningtori @csbenthusiast @lonelybutterflytae @midnight-mochii @theresawtf @nowadays56 @jjklvr9

Literally only tagging the people from my taglist that I KNOW are over 18!!!

[thatanimewriter]

COULDA, WOULDA, SHOULDA, DIDN'T (ALTERNATE ENDING).

➳ synopsis: aventurine has never lost. that's what he tells people when he makes bets and in passing conversation about gambling. but every night when he lays in bed, he will always think about the day he almost lost you. angst version.

➳ character/s: aventurine

➳ warnings: 2.1 spoilers, aventurine backstory spoilers, aventurine real name spoilers, mentions of death, slavery (it's not romanticised, you're safe-), mentions of torture, blood, hurt/comfort, marriage, sleeping together (literally), reader described as beautiful

➳ word count: 0.7k

➳ notes: here's the happy version for those who were asking for it LMAO also i jumped on the bandwagon of fic writers inspired by aventurine official art-

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 / 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭  / 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 / 𝐰𝐢𝐩 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

aventurine will never forget the day he met you. he himself didn't know much better than you did as you ran for your lives as children, but he knew he never wanted to see you like that ever again. that night, he thinks he fell in love.

even with the heavy metal cuffs crushing your wrists, he thought you were beautiful. in the most horrible circumstances, you found solace in each other's arms. aventurine made it a habit to kiss your brand mark and then your forehead as he let you use his arm as a pillow. any screams of pain either of you made as you were roughly dragged from your cell to undergo 'disciplining' haunt your minds in the rare moments of emptiness.

the day aventurine was bought away by jade, he's never felt fear quite the same as looking back and seeing you be dragged away by your cuffs, calling out for him as he left while you were pulled further down the abyss of pain and agony.

"i'll come back for you, wait for me!" he yelled behind him. he was desperate, he didn't know if he would ever get to come back for you and ultimately, that scared him more. the idea that his last interaction with you was filled with despair only fueled his desire to rise to the top. he would free himself and ensure that when (if) he freed you, you would have everything you needed immediately.

aventurine remembers the day he came back for you. he'd beat up a lot of guards, and possibly killed a couple, only to find you unconscious and bleeding onto the cold concrete floor in your cell. scrambling to his knees, he held you in his arms and bolted out the door, desperately praying to whatever god would listen that you were alive.

he lived a nightmare as you recuperated in hospital, but nothing came close to making him cry since leaving you than holding your hand and kissing you all over again as if it was your first time. each night as he slept in the chair beside your hospital bed, he wondered what would've happened if he never got to you or was too late.

when he proposed to you, it felt like a fever dream. when he woke up the next morning to see you beside him, ring glinting in the morning sun and cheek pressed into a silk pillowcase rather than dusty concrete. he smiled in adoration, pulling you closer by the waist and chuckling at your sleepy whine of protest before burying your head into his chest and falling back asleep. taking your hand in his, he kissed the ring he'd given to you as a token of your engagement, resting his chin atop your head.

his phone rang and he sighed, blindly reaching behind him to check who was calling him. dr. ratio.

groggily, he answered. "you're calling early, don't you know i'm spending my paid leave with my wonderful fiance?"

aventurine could practically hear the eye roll from dr. ratio over the phone. "i am well aware, i just thought you would want to be informed that i have located your old master that was missing from the premises when you were searching for them," he said, probably polishing one of his marble busts to occupy himself.

"...keep an eye on him. i'll figure out what to do with him when i get more sleep." and with that, aventurine hung up the phone. he returned his attention to you and caressed his thumb over your hip as he pondered this newfound information.

he could've lost you if he didn't get there when he did. he's grateful for that, because he can have you by his side forever and a little bit more. he would've come looking for you to discover you'd died if he didn't push himself harder than recommended to rise to the top. he should've lost you, for that is what the sick gods on some alternate plane of reality deemed reasonable for his kind.

he didn't.

[letteredlettered]

Slow burn mutual pining

Slow burn pining fics are my favorite. Usually slow burn mutual pining (let's invent a new acronym: SBMP). The problem with SBMP is that it is so difficult to find a climax that satisfies me that I almost always end up not enjoying the fic after all. Like, it delivers but it doesn't satisfy.

Here are all the climaxes I hate, and keep in mind that this is about what I personally enjoy, not what I think is like, good writing or How You Should Do It or the paragon of excellence or anything. I am not telling anyone what they should be writing, and I am also not telling anyone what they should like reading. I simply like what I like and I hate what I dislike, so now you get to know because this is my blog and I do what I want, Thor.

Too short. These are the ones where A is like "I love you! I've loved you for years!" And then B is like "I've loved you for years!" And then they go have very loving sex or something. Listen. There has to be processing time; there needs to be that crying cat meme where the cat needs a minute; there needs to be wonder and disbelief and shock. There needs to be a numbness. And when B does finally 'fess up with their reciprocal angst or whatever it cannot just be "oh, ditto!"

Climax interruptus. Some authors know that the climax needs to be drawn out (to achieve my fic-reading satisfaction, which is obviously every writer's goal!) but can't figure out how to get there, so A is like "I love you! I've loved you for years!" and then the whole Bennett family falls into the room from where they've been listening at the door and there's a lot of dealing with Mrs. Bennett and Mary and Kitty or whoever, all while A is angsting about their confession and whether B loves them back, and B is waiting on tenterhooks just to tell them the feeling is reciprocated. Watch closely, folks, the worst perpetrators of this will do it several times. A says, "I love you!" Then is interrupted. Then finally gets a chance and is like, "I've loved you for years!" Then is interrupted. Then B finally gets their chance and is like "I have something to tell you too!" Then is interrupted. The worst, guys; this is the worst. (It happens with lots of big climaxes where the climax consists of confessions or supplying information or clearing up misunderstandings or Finding Something Out--mysteries do it All. The. Time.)

Moot climax. Subsection of the above that refers to an interruption being an entirely new plot. Basically, you get some kind of partial confession or revelation, but then something happens, but the something is so catastrophic or dramatic that the mains can’t possibly talk through it; they need to resolve this entirely new conflict first. And once that is resolved, the original conflict might even be a moot point, such that they no longer need to have feelings confessions because their feelings were revealed in an alternate way by the alternate plot. I had written this post a year ago and now I have returned and posted because I read one of these that made me so mad.

Trailing climax. Also subsection of climax interruptus. Trailing climax happens when there are several other confessions/revelations that are in fact related to the love confession/revelations. Ie, “I love you,” AND “I’m the masked bandit you had sex with,” AND “I’m your long lost childhood friend.” Sometimes it’s also just a series of things that really demand resolution, ie, “I love you,” AND “I’m afraid of sex but want to have it,” AND “you’re a bird and I’m a whale, so how can this work.” The thing about having multiple conflicts or required resolutions is that you can have several climaxes, but they still need to ascend to a jagged peak. What I often see in the “trailing climax” problem is that one resolution is reached and tension immediately plummets. The reader feels forced to continue reading to find out the resolutions to the other conflicts, but there is no longer the ramping tension up to a final conclusion; it’s more like we ended one story and now have to start a whole other one.

False trailing climax. This is a trailing climax in which the author portrays the other resolutions or confessions as very important, but they’re not, actually. We got the big, cathartic confession scene we needed and yet somehow the chapter still ends on a cliffhanger that makes you feel things suddenly aren’t resolved. This is often about sex. The author is portraying sex as the big climax yet to come when the actual climax was feelings.

Trailing climax narcolepsy. How many times have you read a climax where most things were kind of resolved but there are some loose ends and instead of dealing with them (or having sex) the characters suddenly decide they need to sleep? I always feel the author got tired of writing or fears long scenes and just needed to put a jump cut in because they otherwise didn’t know how to end the scene.

The climax that cried wolf. Okay here is what you get when someone takes my words about "disbelief" and "shock" and "numbness" too far. One of the biggest motivations for SBMP is either A or B or both going on with their constant, "oh, B could never love me!" and "oh, A doesn't even notice me; I'm so worthless . . ." Listen. Listen to me. I love that shit. I eat that shit with a spoon. I am so into it, you don't even know. But when A takes B by the shoulders and is like, "I love you! I've loved you for years!" it is A BRIDGE TOO FAR for B to just go ". . . they didn't mean it . . . they couldn't . . . how could they love me . . . it's not true . . ." After that, you've lost me, and some fics do that like eight times before getting to the part where B believes it. By then no matter how hot and intense and drawn-out you make the actual climax, it has lost all impact because it's happened 7 other times already (and I have already noped out of the fic unless I'm in that train wreck fugue state where I had to see how it ended).

Paint by numbers climax. Paint by numbers climaxes are satisfyingly long and, also satisfyingly, address every single issue and misunderstanding this couple ever had, and then after all of that--only after that--we paint the final numbers: kissing, then undressing, then sex. Let me count the ways I'm so desperately uninterested in this. First of all, the sex is not going to be interesting to me if there is no tension left in the thing. What do you think that I am in this mess for? If it was porn, I'd read a pwp, and if it was loving fluff, I certainly would not be reading SBPM!

But even worse than the boring sex is that, since the sex--and often even kissing--can only occur after all the confessions, it means the confessions are strangely . . . cerebral? Not physical. Sexless. Don't get me wrong. Please don't get me wrong. I love cerebral! I love not physical! I love sexless! Some of my very favorite fics that I have written, and also I will point out the one that is astronomically the most popular, is basically G rated! Fics don't have to have sex in them to be interested and I will beat that drum until my hands fall off!

But. But.

If your SBMP is about sexual tension; if it is about A constantly dreaming of nothing but having B's dick in them and constantly fapping away to thoughts of it or whatever, why would you exclude sex from the climax and only add it in the denoument? I ask you. And if sex wasn't part of the tension; if the sexual aspects were actually not what the pining was about, why do you have sex at all? Why not end with a kiss?

*

There you have it, decades' worth of frustration all in one post, folks.

[bumpolantern]

Dream (Co-written with @cassieoz)

Note: This is a short story co-written with the amazing birth fic writer @cassieoz. In case you're new in this space, @cassieoz is such an amazing writer who crafts empowering birth fics and always has incredibly fresh new ideas.

Pairings: Original Male Character x Original Female Character

Summary: A woman, in the throes of labor, finds a familiar face she can't quite name. A face with a secret that has yet to unfold.

Warnings: MDNI. 18+. pregnancy and birth bink. Very graphic birth and a little sexual birth. If that's not your thing, move along.

Divider credit @saradika-graphics ❤🙏🏻

April had been working all day, doing housework until the pains grew too painful to continue to complete her chores. She was lying on her small bed, panting and trying to deal with the next contraction.

The midwife sat next to her and wiped her face constantly as the pain was unstoppable now.

April threw her head from side to side, begging for some relief but it was too late for any sort of pain drugs.

"Oh please! Make it stop! I want it out! Please get it out for me!"

The door opened and a very tall man entered the room. The midwife stood and began to talk to the man. "She is in transition right now! She is struggling with the enormous pains! The pushing stage is going to be very challenging for her!"

April cried out again as the midwife turned and sat down again. "You are doing beautifully! It will be time soon to push your baby out!"

The tall man watched and smiled as April weakly panted and yelled through more intense surges.

The tall man leant down and took the cloth from the midwife. He placed it gently on April's face and whispered. "It will come out! It will hurt but it will be worth it!"

April blinked and nodded before yelling wildly. The present pain was blinding. It was so intense that suddenly everything went black.

The world spun but April slowly started to wake to warmth and comfort. She was in a huge bed with warm blankets and pillows at her head.

The tall man stood at the end of the large bed ordering people to collect different items as he placed on some surgical gloves.

April looked around! It was not a hospital! It was a huge room, something out of a fairytale. The room was beautiful!

She suddenly gripped the sheets and screamed. Something was shifting inside of her and she needs to get it out! She was desperate! She yelled and bore down on the intense pressure. It was moving! It was stretching her wider! It wanted to come out RIGHT NOW!

The tall man threw back the warmth of the blankets and placed his fingers against April's folds. "That's it! Push it again! Time to work! Don't fight the pain!"

April leaned forward and howled. It was splitting through her. The burning sensation was breathtaking. "GET IT OUT!" April shook as her vision blurred. It hurt beyond words. She pushed hard and long!

When the contraction let up, April plopped back down on the pillows and groaned frustratedly in tears.

“Please,” she begged.

April felt warm hands on her shoulder and the gentle words of the midwife at her back. "Listen and push! Just do what you need to do!"

The midwife helped her back down and wiped her face.

“Please get it ooooouuuutttt…” She barely managed to finish her sentence when she was once again wracked with a stronger contraction.

"They are bad, sir! I am worried!" The tall man nodded but said, "We need to help her! Whatever is necessary! It has to come out!"

The midwife held April up and let her push down again. "You are doing an amazing job!"

“J-just cut it out of me!” You pleaded desperately. Wanting the pain to be over so bad.

"You have to bear down and push it out! It's the only way! It's your duty to give birth to this baby! Come on my dear! Find your strength!"

April felt strong hands against her damp opening as she pushed again and again. It was gigantic

The tall man looked up at the midwife. "It's coming slowly but it's much bigger than expected!"

"Your majesty! She can do this! She has you to help her! You have to help her! You are the only one!"

April's ears were ringing and her head was spinning as more tremendous pressure split at her entrance. Her folds were on fire! She couldn't think straight. All she could do was push against the blinding agony.

Yet despite it all, when the contraction let up for a while she looked the tall man straight into the eyes.

Suddenly there was a humongous shift! She howled and flew forward! She screamed and pushed against the horrific torture.

“Please…help me, I can’t do this! Ooohhh!” She screamed in between before pushing hard again, her face turning beet red from her straining.

She managed to take a breath after the long push and was swallowing as much oxygen as she could as if she was drowning.

As the pain calmed for a brief moment, "How do I know you?" April looked at him again, remembering a dream of him but now realizing he was real!

The tall man looked back into her eyes and smirked a little before schooling his features back to normal.

April pushed and pushed but despite the sudden huge shifts in pressure and pain, she can't move the baby further forward.

"Get her up! We have to get her up!"

Panting heavily, April feels her body being lifted and helped onto her hands and knees. On all fours, something intense begins to occur.

April feels something bearing down with all its force and she can't stop pushing against it.

"What is it? Can't stop it!"

April yelled and cried out, begging to hear some kind of answer to the painful sensation between her thighs.

April clutched the blankets in knots as she pushed and felt her entire nether region open and stretch!

She waited and when no words came from anyone, she roared out at the top of her lungs. April let go and rocked badly in total agony.

She began to shake uncontrollably as the massive weight on her lips spread through her whole entrance. It came swiftly and erupted violently. April lost all sense of time and reason as she exploded in the final stage of childbirth.

Primal sounds echoed around the chamber as the cries of labour grew longer, louder, and more raw!

Just as she thought it was over, the widest part of the baby’s head still hadn’t quite gone through, adding a burning sensation on top of the pain and pressure. Fluids spurt with every little push she could muster with what strength she had left in her, making this final stage feel a lot more slower than it already was.

Suddenly, the tall man came into her view, slowly kneeling down with one knee in front of her lifting her chin up to his face.

Her voice was so hoarse, and so out of breath that barely a sound came out when she whimpered and pleaded with the man to help her. But as she did, it suddenly dawned on her… “I-I know you…” she croaked and he only gave her a small knowing smile.

April smiled and looked into his eyes, wanting to hear words but knowing the hard work was not over yet.

"When will it be over? Is the baby alright?"

April gasped as the man continued to gently stroke her cheek and another strong pain began to throb downwards. "You are doing so well! The baby is very big! Much bigger than expected. It's almost out!" 

April squeezed the soft sheets underneath her. "I need to push again! I can feel it again!" The man nodded and brushed a long strand of hair back behind her wet ear. "Hold on tight and push when you can't avoid the urge anymore!"

The wave built stronger and more intense in the next couple of seconds. April's breathing grew more laboured. She could feel everything tensing in her core and her limbs. Her toes had pins and needles and her coldness returned on her damp back and face. 

The wave climbed higher and faster. The rapid approach mixed with the birther's shaking and loud moaning. When it crashed at full force, April growled deeply and strained down with all her need to free her child.

Once again strong fingers were pressed against her parting folds and words of encouragement were instructed towards her efforts. Stern and loud words of pushing and bearing echoed around her laboring figure.

April pushed and pushed but exhaustion was taking over. She tried again and again as she felt the enormity of the tip bounce at her red, firey opening.

April collapsed forward after another huge push! A loud booming voice exploded over her shoulder. "Damn it! No! You MUST push it! Push woman!"

Strong arms scooped her back and she suddenly found the strength to push even harder as the eruption of the crown fully shaped her entrance.

The midwife was between her legs in seconds. "It's fully crowned Your Majesty! The crowning stage is halfway over for her!"

April felt her whole upper body hugged tightly as she panted, strained, and pushed harder than ever. She was scared! The tremendous size stretched her petite frame wider and more open. 

Any more pressure and she thought she would explode.

Warm cloths were wiped over her face and neck. "It's almost out! It's almost over!" The voice was edged with worry now. The sternness had vanished and was replaced with genuine concern.

April’s legs shook as she pushed with all her might, praying to whatever deity out there for the pain and pressure and the burning feeling to be over.

The tall man positioned himself between her legs, softly caressing her thighs as she grunted and pushed. It was an unexpectedly soothing feeling and she managed to pant and catch her breath.

“This is it, April. Not long now, push when the next contraction comes…” the man said, one of his hands slowly moving to cup and caress the tip of the infant’s head, gently stroking, until his fingers found her clit and he begin to slowly put pressure on the nub. Stroking it in small circles until April begins to moan and whimper in between grunts and pushes.

April’s growing arousal and efforts in pushing the child’s head out are finally making it slowly inch forward.

“That’s it… pant it out…”

“Haaaa… it burns!” She screeched, but continued to pant anyway, as the tall man continued to play with her clitoris.

The all-too-familiar pressure between her legs begins to crest as a contraction creeps in along with a wave of pleasure. April began to moan loudly, her head swimming in pain, pressure, and pleasure. A delectable cocktail of euphoria takes over her and with a wail, the head finally bursts out, fluids squirted and gushed as it did.

Benjamin held onto the head as he reached for a towel to clean the escaping fluids. The fluids were rapidly escaping. They were thick and dark in colour! He paled as he realised that April had started to bleed out! "Call the Birthing OR! She will need surgery when the baby is born!"

Benjamin nodded towards the midwife to hold the rotating head as he swiftly changed his gloves and looked at the woman next to him. "Will she be alright?" The midwife nodded as the room filled with bellowed screams as the shoulders and the rest of the body collapsed in a massive pool of blood on the bed.

The baby cried despite its explosive entrance into the world. Benjamin picked him up in a damp towel as the midwife added more towels. The room filled with other staff as April grew weaker by the second. She tried to look at the crying baby but slowly closed her eyes from exhaustion and blood loss.

"The baby is a good healthy weight, Your Majesty!" One of the medical staff announced as they swept over the baby. April was rushed from the room on a gurney. Benjamin pushed passed the personell towards the hallway. "Will she make it?" They looked at each other and rapidly kept heading for the castle's emergency wing.

The OR was filled with medical staff as they worked frantically to deliver the afterbirth that came with more copious amounts of blood. "Doctor, her pressure is dropping rapidly"

"We need more sponges! Clamp! Retractor! Larger clamp! Damn the blood! It's not stopping! Call for more blood supply!"

"Doctor, heart rate is unstable. It's dropping!

"Still dropping! She’s coding!"

Benjamin hurried to the OR observatory room to witness the medical team desperately trying to revive April. A nurse came running into the room and tried to stop him from going into the operating theater. "What the hell! What happened to her?"

"Your Majesty, she has had massive blood loss after the delivery. We are trying everything possible to assist. We are working to get her back! There was just too much rapid loss."

An hour later, Benjamin was sitting in his study. His hand trembled as he raised a crystal glass to his lips before drowning another mouthful of amber liquid. The burning sensation was numbing as it slipped down his throat. A soft knock came and the midwife entered. Benjamin looked up in a haze! She nodded. 

"She is extremely weak. She is in a coma! The doctors said it was a placental abruption. It can happen suddenly at birth without warning." Mary added the information about the speed of the condition. She knew Benjamin well! Mary knew he would be blaming himself for this.

Benjamin weakly stood and walked to the fireplace before collapsing in one of the arm chairs. Mary walked slowly over to him. The room was silent, only the occasional cracking of burning fire wood interrupted the thoughts of the two shocked people.

After what seemed an eternity, Mary quietly asked. "Did you ever get the chance to explain any of this before April went into active labor?" Benjamin glared up dangerously at the midwife. She fell silent again, taking the warning and sitting on the opposite chair.

Benjamin remained silent as he sat with his leg crossed, his chin propped in the palm of his left hand. Contemplating what the midwife sitting across from him just said… It made sense, he cannot keep this forever from April. She has been through too much during this birth alone when she survives–if she ever survives this… 

He had to tell her.

He had to tell her that she was chosen. 

Chosen to bear the heirs of the kingdom long before she was old enough to walk or talk. 

For you see, Benjamin may be King… but he has been king for a really long time that his time is running out, and until he has given the kingdom at least a dozen heirs, only then the gods will be pleased and grant him the eternal life he craves. 

His youth is all gone by now, but he is still at his prime and he wanted to stay this way at least. He was glad he had known of April before he reached this peak in his life and physique, he could stay this way forever, he thought. He’s old enough to still have the looks, the body, and the physical strength he wanted… he just needed to get April to bear him at least eleven more children and he’ll stay this way forever. 

He stood up abruptly, startling the midwife a little, and moved towards the door before suddenly stopping. He turned to face the midwife and asked, “Does this stop her from having more children so soon?” 

The midwife studied him. “We can’t know for sure.” 

Benjamin let out an exasperated sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. He needs to tell her as soon as she’s conscious and aware. He no longer wanted to do this the way he used to, visiting her in her dreams and making her fall in love with him. No, he no longer wants to live in her subconscious, he no longer wants to see the look in her eyes at the sight of him in this dimension… that familiarity that she can’t seem to put her finger on. 

He needs to tell her about the prophecy.

More than anything, he needs to tell her he loves her.

Benjamin stormed out of his study to be with April. 

And there he stayed for days until she woke up five days later. 

April slowly opened her eyes, trying to take in her surroundings. The doctors removed the breathing apparatus the other day, but her throat still feels too dry.

“My-my baby…” She croaked, startling Benjamin. He gently hushed her, gently tucking her hair behind her ear.

“The child is fine, April.” He said softly, and she just stared at the tall man. 

“I-I know you…” She whispered and he only gave her a curt smile. “But… I don’t know–” 

“It’s okay. I-I know… I need to tell you something…” 

And Benjamin told her everything. About the prophecy, about the gift the gods would bestow him, and how he will be granted that gift. Despite everything, April just listened and tried her best to absorb what the man was saying.

“I don’t quite understand, what does that have to do with me?” She asked him.

“Everything. You, April, are the chosen one. You are handpicked by the gods to give me a dozen heirs and more…” Benjamin answered honestly.

April sucked in a breath. “I don’t think I can help you with that… you majesty… is that–you are the king, are you not?” 

Benjamin bit his lower lip to suppress a smile and nodded. April nodded back and continued, “With how things turned out with my child’s birth, I don’t think I want to do it again 12 more times.” 

“Eleven.” Benjamin corrected.

“What?”

“Only eleven times more.”

There was a brief pause between them as April slowly came to understand a little more about her child’s paternity. 

“Y-you’re the man… from my dreams…” She squinted as if she’d see him clearer if she did. 

“I am…”

“How?” 

“I have been given the ability to connect with you being the chosen one.”

“And you did not just approach me in person?” April felt her face turn a little hot, as what seemingly anger started to brew within her. 

“Would you have spared me a glance if you didn't know I am the king?” Benjamin defended. 

When April did not respond, the king continued, “I understand if you don’t. I am far much older than you are… old enough to be your father.” He chuckled at that last part.

“But you must understand, April…I am madly in love with you and I want to at least look this way for as long as I can–”

“Till I die so you can remarry someone younger?” She spat which surprised Benjamin. April scoffed and lightly shook her head. 

“I could pray to the gods to grant you the same life, too.” 

“And what of our children then?” It was Benjamin’s turn to stay silent.

“Could your vanity fix and heal the wounds and pain of outliving all of your children, my king? Hmm?” April’s voice quivered as tears began to slide down her cheeks.

Benjamin softened at the sound and sight of his heart. He stood up and paced the room with both hands at his back, his eyes fixed on his steps. 

He was lost for words. He had never thought of it that far or at all. He was so focused on the goal, that he did not think of what would happen after he got it. 

“You know…” She continued. “I have known and loved you for a long time and wished so hard you were real…” She chuckled looking up to the ceiling as tears freely fell from her eyes. 

“And you were.” She looked at him. “I would have looked at you still like you hung the stars in the sky even if I didn’t know of your status.” This made the king stop and look at her with his brows furrowed in confusion.

“I know you…” She continued with such longing in her voice. “I would have given you anything you wanted. Even carry and birth all the children you want…even if it hurts so much like it did each time.” 

This surprised Benjamin and he felt his knees wobble that he sank onto the chair next to her bed. 

“But I could never live my life knowing that you only used me to fulfill a prophecy and will continue to use me just to please the gods. I could never fathom the fact that you would go as far as making me fall in love and give you a child just so you could live and reign forever.” 

He buried his face in his hands and took a deep breath. There was a long stretch of silence before the king finally spoke: 

“What can I do to make it up to you? Just say the word, April. What would make you believe that I love you and I want to spend my life with you?” 

April looked at him sadly. “I would love nothing else but to spend the rest of my life with you, my king… but… I do not think I could stomach living for hundreds and hundreds of years and outlive everyone I know. Everyone I love.” 

“Are you saying…”

“I love you. Please make no mistake. But what good will our life be together if all we ever love, care, and fight for, we cannot take with us?”

“April… you must understand. You have a prophecy to fulfill and I have a mission for the gods…” 

“It is not a mission, my king. It is not what the gods want to grant you with, you asked for it.” 

“What do you want me to do?” The king asked again and April swallowed the lump in her throat at what she was about to say. This is her shot to make it with the man of her dreams… And she’d rather take the risk of knowing he could trade her for his vanity, than not to have tried for this at all and so she answered him truthfully. 

“I want you to give up your pursuit of eternal life.” 

[chronically-ghosted]

i totally agree that it’s ridiculous for people to write fics for films that haven’t been released yet, but the problem isn’t the smut itself. people have every right to write porn if that scratches the itch.

i think your main point is the most important: it’s impossible to write a thoughtful, inspired fic when we don’t even know the story it’s based on. no one knows who this character is or what he’s like.

at this point, everyone should just call a spade a spade and write pedro rpf. all they care about is seeing his face in different situations.

so my earlier post was not so much a statement on Pedro Pascal Character fanfiction/porn, but the commercialization of art and I interpreted the thoughts and opinions of others through the lens of the medium I most often express myself with, which is fanfiction.

let me be clear: i have no problem with smut - pwp or otherwise. people are allowed to write whatever they want, about whoever they want, with whatever tropes make them happy.

my overall focus (and granted it was probably very muddled by the end of those - what, like three reblogs?) was an interrogation of fanfiction as art, and the state of art in this modern era. and after doing some more thinking and listening to more people much smarter than me (thank you to everyone who dm-ed me directly to talk further about this), my opinion is thus: the creation of content (not art) is more ubiquitous today is not because we are getting more stupid as a society, not because of our failing attention spans, not because we are on the brink of moral collapse but because we physically do not have the mental strength to be intellectually curious as a direct result of constant, distracting, emotionally-draining stimuli.

i can explain what i mean below the cut with two primary examples, specifically regarding the shift in fanfiction cult, and yes, the prominence of smutty oneshots in the pedro pascal character fandom of which this blog is a part of.

I have been in various fandoms for almost twenty years. I have been writing fanfiction for almost that same amount of time. In recent years, I've noticed two trends that initially discouraged me, but that I now believe is a symptom of our adjustment to a modern, constantly online era.

A severe lack of engagement within the artistic artifacts of a fandom

The quality of the fanfiction itself (because yes I do consider fanfiction to be an artform) has gone down hill - mostly.

Lack of engagement:

Art is inherently created to be shared. This is especially true for fandom because the community lives or dies by how many people are interacting with each other and sharing ideas (news, theories, fanart, fanfic, etc). If you say a fandom is dead, it means there haven't been any new posts or fic about it in years. So I don't wanna hear it when people say, "oh write for yourself, you shouldn't be chasing engagement" because that is antithetical to the very concept of fanfiction.

In recent years, I have seen and experienced myself engagement in my work only so far as a like or kudo. This is not how it used to be. Message boards (yes I am that old) and niche fandom sites were constantly abuzz with media sharing and excitement, and everyone enjoyed some version of praise (unless you got hit by the antis but they're never fun anyway). Initially I blamed this drop in engagement on laziness: people just want the next thing, they can't be bothered to appreciate the hard work writers put in and they just see content and art as the same thing - stuff to consume.

But I myself am GUILTY of minimal reblogs and comments and I LOVE what I'm writing - the impact certain works leave me with is long, long lasting but for some goddamn reason, I can't sit down and praise the author's works. Am I lazy? Possibly, but this is also not an isolated behavior and it's on the rise: people do not have time to engage with fandom/fanfic like they used to. Most people I know have worked at least two or three jobs at some point in their lives to just to make rent. This gen z is the first generation in DECADES to be worse off economically than their parents. With an interest rate at 8%, who the fuck can afford the security of a home anymore? We work ourselves to the bone for scraps and the realization that The Dream has officially died. And so what do we want to do in the free time we do have? Engage with the very bare minimum. We want to read things that we can at best skim, things we don't have to think about or engage with in any meaningful way. We want a way to turn off the noise of the next apocalypse and sometimes the best we can do is the tap of a thumb.

Which brings me to my next point: what the fuck happened to thoughtful fanfiction?

But this question is inextricably linked to the points above: oneshots are easier to write, faster to write, and if you write fic that is basically "Mad libs porn" (without ever engaging in the actual medium because it is literally not released yet), you are doing the most minimal work for the most amount of engagement. But I can't fault ANYONE for doing that. It feels good to be told your smut is "so hot" or "this exploded my panties" and in this era where the time available to create is so fucking small and minimized of course you're going to write for the most popular character, whether or not you're interested in the source material because we want our art to matter to someone. Intellectual pundits loooove to lambast our "shorter attention spans" but fuck, when are we allowed the time to think - in between this "100 year storm" that's happened twice in the past five years, or the global pandemic that turned millions of deaths into a political punching bag, or the next video of a white woman crying wolf to the police over an innocent black man, or - or - or - or

In a day where reality and the world as we know seems to be holding onto a thread, we turn to comfort: comforting tropes (dbf to rape/kidnap fantasies), comforting fanfic (pwp), and comforting ways to engage with fandom. There is nothing wrong with wanting your art to be appreciated and there's nothing wrong with inherently wrong with pwp - but I do believe its symptomatic of a MUCH larger and more sinister movement within ALL art right now.

I come from the generation who banished fanfic authors for scrubbing off the filing numbers to their fics and publishing it as original content because, in our communities, they were selling out. Fanfiction is inherently an act of rebellion. Every time you write fanfiction you break canon, an established structure with its own rules and boundaries. So by trying to appeal to the masses, to curb your own writing to fit whatever is mainstream, you are doing a disservice to yourself AND to the art of fanfiction. If something you write becomes popular, wonderful, great, you are very lucky and there is nothing wrong with that either. But do not sell out your 13 beloved fans who WILL take the time to leave a comment, who WILL take the time to reblog because your weird little fic spoke to them on a fundamental level and now is with them for the rest of their lives - in favor of a 100 thumb taps.

If you've made it here, thank you very much for reading. I've added some links to some additional references to see how this concept of "populist" art is having a serious negative down turn in the quality of art, but is also not any one individuals personal failings:

Why the world is addicted to background tv by Kayleigh Day

How Modern Audience are failing cinema by Like Stories of Old

Rupi Kaur episode of Rehash podcast

I'm always here to talk fic and art and what makes you excited about your writing. Much love and please rest. We need you here.

[romirola]

For the first time since February 2020, I am sick. 🤒 As a distraction, I thought I'd share a bit of my current WIP. Under a cut because the full fic will be rated E for my typical brand of soft-smut. 18+ only, please!

I'm thinking this fic will be multiple chapters, and I always take the opportunity to remind people that I'm a SLOW writer. I don't start posting on AO3 until the story is drafted in full. It'll be awhile before this one gets to that stage, but oh, it has been a lot of fun to imagine so far.

“You’ve got a hypno-kink,” Milo repeated, giving a thoughtful nod. “So, what do we do about that?”

When Sweetheart had volunteered that information about themselves, Milo was shocked, to say the least. But he knew he needed to be strategic. One wrong move could make them retreat back into their defensive shell.

“I…” Sweetheart grimaced, feeling woefully unprepared for the conversation. “I don’t know,” they answered. “I thought you would think it was weird or something. I didn’t tell you to pressure you into it or anything like that. I’d never, ever want that.” Their hand found Milo’s under the covers and squeezed, the pulse matching the beat of the subtle song their core always sang when they were together. “I just thought you should know. Because I want you to know all of me, and that’s something about me.”

But Milo wanted more than just understanding. Much more. Understanding was a great start, but nowhere near the finish line he had in mind.

He eventually convinced Sweetheart to tell him all about their fantasies involving hypnosis that the stealth had spent far too long pretending were nonexistent or, at the very least, irrelevant. As they delved more into the topic, Milo began to connect the dots. It certainly was in character with Sweetheart. After all, time had shown that Sweetheart was something of a soft dom, which was a preference Milo knew quite well, being one himself. Still, the pair had never gotten caught up with rigid labels or limiting roles. They were way more focused on each other, frankly, and the love between them, to be concerned with trivial things like that. When their nights did veer more towards defined dynamics, however, both Milo and Sweetheart were content to trust each other to discover how to let things play out. It was a system that worked very, very well.

(some other stuff)

Slowly, and with constant prompting from Milo, Sweetheart had revealed more details about what drew them towards hypnotism.

“I like the idea of giving that kind of deep relaxation and guidance, to make you feel good. Accessing that control in a way that helps take away whatever might be holding you back— anxiety, insecurity, worry, whatever. And being in a position to do that for you…” Sweetheart’s thick eyebrows bounced twice. “I like the thought of that a lot. A lot a lot.”

In his quest to understand, Milo continued to press them for more details.

“Me being in the hypnotist's role,” Sweetheart declared with certainty when Milo asked them for more explanation. “And just to be clear, no, not in like a ‘I'll make you do things you don't want to do because I like power and control.’ Like a supervillain or something. Not at all like that.” Sweetheart swiped their flat palm across the air to emphasize their point. “For me, it's more about supporting you so you can do what you want to do and experience it in a really clear, pure way. Giving you that opportunity to just listen, to just be, to not even have to think, only feel. Maybe it’d take shape as me giving you cues that heighten your sensation or let you focus on pleasure,” Sweetheart explained. “Or…” They swallowed. “Maybe I’d have you on your knees, hot and begging and ready to obey any command I gave you.”

[joels-shitty-puns]

The Key To Your Heart - Track 9

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Musician!Reader

Series Summary: After writing your feelings for Pedro into a song, it gains a lot more popularity than expected. Ultimately it brings both criticism and support, with new possibilities around the corner.

Series Warnings: 18+ only (MDNI). Panic/Anxiety attack. Alluding to sexual scenarios. Kissing. Fat shaming, name calling. Mentions of food, weight loss, weight gain, dieting, weighing, potential eating disorder, food guilt. Potential for puns/dad jokes (name of my blog, and the fic) should give that away. This is my first fic which should be its own warning, lol. Also some cursing. Mentions of masturbation (f) maybe more smut later idk. Sadness, reader is pretty depressed. Poor body image. Rude people. Bullying-ish and just lack of support? Anxiety. Age gap! Reader is in her mid 20's, Pedro is current age (48).

Other stuff: Reader is plus sized. AFAB. Inexperienced. Also has a dog, but you can pretend it is another creature probably. Further, in case it isn't clear, italics almost always are the reader's inner thoughts!

Word Count: 2.7K

Series List: Here!

Miss Chapter 8? Here!

Hi everyone!! I really don't feel great about this chapter, I'm sorry if it sucks. I kinda just want to get it out there though because I don't see my brain thinking up anything better. A lot of writer's block surrounding this scene. Anywho, hopefully next chapter will be better, but I still hope you like it. Although we allude to a little bit of sexual situations now that they are together, I likely will avoid explicit smut being that Pedro is a real human and I am a guilty, guilty human for writing any smut at all. I don't want to offend Pedro (not that he'd ever see it anyway, I am delusional), but I also know people find real person fiction uncomfy as a whole. That being said, I think this story may be coming to a close pretty soon. I plan to have maybe one more full storyline chapter, and at least one little side bonus chapter :) Please let me know what you think in the comments, or DM me if you wanna chat! I love hearing all your thoughts. Thank you for reading and hanging in here with me.

Before the screen even had a chance to load, you canceled the request. Nervously looking at Pedro, he held your hand under the table. “What is it?” he asked gently.

“I just realized,” you replied. “What if they ask about us? About those pictures? What should I say?”

Pedro answered with a gentle stroke of his thumb on your cheek. “Whatever you feel comfortable with. I'm sure I'll be fine with whatever you say, baby. I know your privacy is important to you, and I trust you. I'm all in with you.”

“Okay.” You took a deep breath and once again began the stream.

“Live in 3…”

“2…”

“1…”

The fans began to file in, and before you knew it, you had thousands of viewers. Opting to start with your screen covered, you wanted to give an intro first before the big reveal. 

It wasn't long before the comments flowed across the screen. 

You took a deep breath, squeezing Pedro’s hand, and jumping in. “Hi everyone! It's me… a lot has been happening lately and I decided it might be time to show a little more of myself.”

-“First!”

-“Did she mean to start a live video ??"

-"Hiii! I'm a big fan"

-“Is she there??”

-“Do you guys see anything?”

“So… Here's me.” You turned on your camera, waving at the screen, your stomach twisting in deeper knots.

-“No fucking way.”

-“!?!!!!!”

-“SCREAMING”

“Hi… Some of you might know me, some might be surprised. But this is me. This is the girl behind the music.”

The comments flooded in, entirely too fast for you to read.

“I want to thank all of you for being fans and listening to my songs. It really means a lot and I hope you liked the album. Your support blows me away, especially with what little information about myself I've given.”

More comments.

“Well, I uh… guess I should read some of these comments and answer some questions. I'm sure there’s a lot you all are wondering about,” you stated nervously, starting to read.

-“Why did you hide your identity?”

“Why did I hide my identity… I hid my identity mostly based on poor self image. I never expected my music to gain popularity, never expected celebrities to know it. Never expected any of it, and it certainly brought its share of criticism. I was scared to be in the spotlight and I didn't feel like I looked good enough to be someone famous. You know? I'm not skinny, I have flaws, and that doesn't always sit well with the Internet. I guess I was mainly scared of how I would be perceived. I'm just a normal girl who had her whole life flipped upside down when I wrote my feelings down,” you laughed anxiously.

Choosing to ignore the storm brewing in the comments below, you addressed the earlier comment. “Thank you for your kind words. I'm glad I can make you feel more accepted by seeing more plus-sized people in the entertainment business. Everyone should feel seen and have a place at the table, no matter what you look like, or who you are.”

-“I think it's nice to have more celebrities that look kinda like me.”

-“You're so humble!!”

-“You should've stayed hidden lmao”

-“Shut up, asshole. Why are you here if you're going to be rude?”

-“I'm sure you're a real supermodel behind that keyboard bravery.. smh”

You weren't expecting someone to actually feel like you were representing them and making them feel seen. You didn't think you had enough of an impact for that. You certainly weren't treated that way when you weren't famous. Nobody really even noticed you before.

You could feel Pedro’s eyes on your face, his thumb swirling circles and hearts over the space of skin on the top of your hand, below your thumb. The place where his bullseye resides on his own. Does he trace that tattoo when he's nervous, the same way he is with me? Perhaps his tracing of your hand is calming himself as much as it is for you.

Desperately, you wanted to look over at him and be comforted by his deep brown eyes, but doing so would cause people to wonder who you made eye contact with and smiled at. So instead, you gave a gentle squeeze and a smile towards the screen, hoping he would understand. 

-“Hi, I'm a big fan of yours. Can I ask… is what you said on your album true? You've never been kissed before? I haven't either and I was starting to feel like I'm just a freak.”

“Oh, honey, you aren't a freak. Everyone has things happen at different times in their life. But yes, everything I wrote in my album at the time I wrote it was true. And don't worry, I have felt the same way. Seeing others be kissed, falling in love… having the things I wasn't, it really hurts. But it'll be okay.. nothing is wrong with you. You're deserving of love.”

You hoped they wouldn't pick up on your usage of past-tense wording. Pedro, still holding your hand, rubbed his other hand over your arm gently.

-“Wait… at the time you wrote it? What about now?”

The comments were going wild.

Welp…

Your hands shook, and you used your opposite hand to place on top of Pedro’s that gripped yours. He squeezed gently, feeling the nervous tremors pass through your body, continuing to rub gentle strokes over your arm with his opposite hand.

“Uhm…” your cheeks heated and your stomach sank.

“I've changed a lot since this album was first written. Experienced new things. But I'm still the same person.”

Shit.

-“Who did you kiss?! Is it the guy in your song?”

-“Will you tell us who the song is about?”

-“Wait a second… you're that girl aren't you!?!!!! The one in the pictures with Pedro Pascal!!!!”

-“OMG IT IS”

-“!!!!!!!”

-“IS HE THE GUY!?!”

-“ARE YOU DATING!?!”

The nervous tremors continued, now threatening to cause your teeth to chatter. A full panic attack was brewing. Pedro squeezed your hand again, touching your knee and trying to do his best to ground you without speaking up on your live video. Skipper could feel the waves of anxiousness pooling off of you as well and crawled forward to settle his body across your feet. You took a few calming breaths, but when you went to speak, your voice still betrayed you.

“I..” your voice cracked, shakiness evident as you could feel tears starting to edge their way towards your vision.

I can't do this. I can't do this. I need to shut it off.

You shut your eyes, taking deep breaths, trying to ease your nausea and stress. 

Keeping your eyes closed, you spoke. “Yes.”

You took another deep breath. “Yes it was me, yes the song was about him. Yes.”

You opened your eyes to read the comments, tears pooling down your cheeks as you couldn't hold back your emotion anymore.

This is so embarrassing. The first time I show my face I'm crying and having an anxiety attack in front of the whole world.

You swallowed, choking back the full sobs that your body wanted to let loose. Wiping your face with the back of your hand, you began to read the comments, expecting laughter, criticism, and bullying. Instead, you were met with kindness.

Coming back to your senses, you gave a shaky smile. “Thank you guys. I'm sorry for my emotions.” You sniffled. Pedro was still rubbing your hands and arms, comforting you, having never stopped. His eyes still bore into the side of your head, and you knew he was struggling to not speak up or grab you fully. 

-“Oh my God, are you okay?”

-“I didn't mean to make you cry I'm so sorry”

-“You and Pedro make a cute couple”

-“Oh no, please don't cry”

-“Idk if you guys are dating but you seem cute”

-“I'm so glad you guys are spending time together when he's the guy in your song”

-“It'll be okay, please don't be upset”

-“You're amazing, we love you”

“Yes, Pedro and I have been spending a lot of time talking after he publicly commented on my song a few months ago. The party was the first time we met in person and we're still figuring things out,” you let go of your worries and broke eye contact with the camera, looking to your side to meet Pedro’s gaze. “But… we're happy.” You smiled at him. He smiled back gently, squeezing your hand, worry and sadness plaguing his face over your well-being. Breaking eye contact, you looked back at the screen.

You giggled before answering “well, I think that's all we have time for today. Thank you all for joining me!” You silently clicked off the stream, closing the browser, turning off the computer, and turning to Pedro. He grabbed your other hand in his, now holding both. “Are you okay?” He asked, concern etched in his face.

-“AAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!”

-“IS HE THERE WITH YOU!?!”

-“whaaaaat”

-“SCREAMING”

-“Shut. Up. This is insane.”

-“YOU GUYS ARE SO CUTE I CAN'T TAKE IT”

“I think so,” you nodded.

“Seeing you panic and not being able to do anything without potentially making it worse… It killed me. I'm so sorry. I just wanted to pull you into my arms and end that video myself. I hated seeing you so upset.” He stared down at your intertwined hands, rubbing his thumb over them again. 

“I appreciate you being here for me,” you let go of his hand to stroke his cheek. “I couldn't have done that without you.” You met his eyes, leaning forward to rest against his forehead. He let out a shaky breath. “I love you. I'm so proud of you.”

“I love you too,” you replied with a smile. “Let's move to the couch, huh?” You asked, pulling him up from the chair. He stood, just as your phone rang, a call from Rose. You quickly answered.

“I saw the live stream. You did wonderful! Don't worry about any of the negative comments you saw or any stories that come out of this. I'll handle it all.”

“Thanks, Rose.”

“Anytime. Take care.” She hung up.

You updated Pedro as the two of you walked towards the couch. “Do you want breakfast?” He asked.

“Maybe in a minute. Can I just hold onto you for a few minutes?”

“I would love nothing more.”

He sat on the couch, you sitting next to him, before he gave you a look. “What?” you laughed. He patted his leg.

“Let me hold you.”

“I'm too heavy for that Pedro, don't be ridiculous,” you shook your head.

“You're the one being ridiculous.” He reached over, pulling you into his lap. “I'm too heavy! You're going to hurt yourself,” you whined.

“You're not too heavy. You're the perfect size, baby. Come here,” he pulled you forward, your body sliding down his thighs as he wrapped his arms around you. You straddled his lap, knees on either side of his hips while he rubbed your back gently. You placed your arms around him, nuzzling into his neck and closing your eyes. You both sighed, and he grabbed a blanket next to him to pull over your bodies. “I could stay like this for hours, wrapped in your arms” you sighed comfortably. 

“Why don't you?” He turned his head to kiss your lips. You lifted your face up, taking your head off his shoulder to kiss him deeper. The kisses were lazy and comfortable, holding each other and enjoying the warmth of being in each other's arms.

Finally the two of you broke the kiss, settling back on his shoulder, him tilting his head to lean against yours. His hands sprawled over your back, pulling you forward a bit to adjust in his lap. You let out a soft whimper at the contact, fully aware of the location your bodies connected at the moment. “Feel how much you mean to me?” He asked, his breath ghosting your ear as he pulled your hips forward again. You whined. “Yes..” you answered breathlessly. The temptation to keep doing that was overwhelming. But he once again wrapped his arms around you, rubbing your back as the two of you comfortably dozed off, finally relaxed after so much stress of the morning.

Hours later, you stirred, feeling Pedro still underneath you. At the feel of you moving, he stretched a bit before settling with his arms around you again. “Morning, baby” he hummed. “Guess we fell asleep,” you smiled.

“Some of the best sleep I've had in a while, here with you.”

“Same here.” You blinked your eyes open, kissing him on the lips with a peck. “What time is it?”

He turned his head to look at the clock on your TV. “5 o’clock” he laughed. “Guess we both needed some rest.” 

“Mmmm, I guess so,” you hummed, settling into him more.

“Good thing I brought nonperishables. Are you hungry?”

You pondered. “Yeah, I am,” you looked into his deep brown eyes. “Breakfast for dinner?” You smiled at him.

“Sounds perfect.” He pecked your lips before you slid off his lap, the two of you standing to stretch. It wasn't long that you two stood apart before you leapt forward again to give him a hug. He laughed, hugging you back. “I'll never get tired of being in your arms,” you smiled into his chest, breathing in his scent.

“I'll never get tired of holding you in mine,” he pulled his face back to look at you.

“Now let's eat! I'm starved,” you scampered towards the kitchen, him giving a gentle pat to your butt before hugging you from behind as you grabbed the breakfast foods. You giggled, setting food on plates as he kissed your neck, still wrapped around you from behind. “I'm starving too,” he replied back to your earlier statement with a growl, biting your ear.

“Pedro!” You giggled, smacking his arm gently. He chuckled, pulling away and grabbing his plate as you both headed to the table.

The two of you ate, filling the space with light conversation, both of you occasionally sneaking Skipper some bites under the table. He could get used to having two humans spoiling him.

The chatter came to a natural pause, eating in silence and smiling at each other across the table. Pedro stopped eating, wiping his hands and continuing to stare at you. You laughed, asking him what was up. Suddenly, he looked nervous.

“I, uh…” he rubbed his neck. “I was going to wait until after we had at least a first date to say this, but…” he trailed off, and your mind spiraled. Is he breaking up with me? Is he not interested anymore? What's wrong?

“I was wondering if… you'd be my girlfriend? Exclusively?” His cheeks flushed.

You stammered, dropping your fork on the plate. “You… you want… me to be your girlfriend?” You smiled.

He nodded. “If… you'll have me.”

“You want to be my boyfriend?” He nodded again, looking down at the table.

“Yes. Yes, are you kidding? Please! I'd love nothing more.” You grinned, jumping out of your chair to move to him.

He stood, pulling you into a hug. “Really?” He smiled at you.

“Really,” you nodded. “Now kiss me,” you held his face.

“Gladly,” he pulled you closer, kissing you deeply, his tongue asking for entrance to your mouth. You squealed, surprised, but letting him in. You'd never experienced this sensation before. But it was… incredible.

He licked your lips, the two of you exploring the inside of each other's mouths, tongues dancing together. The kiss was heated and deeper than ever before, both of you finally pulling away for air, him coming back in to peck your lips a few times, sucking your lip between his own. You sighed shakily. “Wow.”

“I love kissing you,” he smiled against your lips.

“I love kissing you. You're a good kisser,” you smiled back.

“So are you,” he smirked. “My beautiful girlfriend.” He gave a kiss. “How about that date tomorrow?” He pulled away to look at you, letting his hand rub across your lower back, just above your butt.

“I'd love to,” you stroked his face. “My handsome boyfriend.” You wrapped your arms around him again, blissfully.

“Tomorrow,” you two sighed in unison.

@pedrotonin @starcrossed02 @lightupsketchersperson @cartoon-garbage04 @tyferbebe @maryfanson @gwendibley84 @faithfullyyours2000 @brilliantopposite187 @hc-geralt-23 @jenniferpendragon @winchestergypsy90 @red-red-rogue @theendwhereibegin @lottieellz101 @oliversaurus @kyga01 @milly-louise @titabel @taz-97 @stefanibear003 @marantha @fandomoniumflurry @ilovemybrown-eyedbabygirl @leiadjarin @hmneighbors

Thank you for reading!!! Let me know what you think ❤️

Taglist: (Want in? Let me know!)

[sablegear0]

I was having a little think about Kenjaku's relationship with Mahito and I think I may have hit upon something...

We know Kenny hijacked Suguru's body shortly after Suguru's death on the Jujutsu Tech campus. Whatever Satoru did with his body after that is left ambiguous but we know it wasn't disposed of in the standard fashion (cremated) so Kenjaku was able to get access to it. Unless someone tried to find what was left of the arm Suguru lost in his fight with Yuta & Rika and patch it back onto him before he was left somewhere (let's assume buried or stacked in a cairn in the woods somewhere, left otherwise intact and relatively accessible), Kenny would have taken control of a body with a missing limb.

Following this, "Suguru Geto" returns to his congregation of curse users, bloody but unbowed, minus one arm and probably nursing an understandable grudge over his loss on the campus. It's roughly a year before the Shibuya plan is put into motion but Kenjaku has been planning for ages, and most of the pieces are already in place. He just wants a few more good cards in hand before he sets things in motion. I like to think actual Suguru knew of Jogo, Hanami, and Dagon, though he may not have encountered them directly or didn't know quite what to do with them yet. Given his status and technique, it's hard to imagine he wasn't aware of them unless they kept themselves well hidden until the year Kenjaku presumably approached them with a plan. The Mountain, Forest, and Ocean curses were good allies and good fuel for Kenjaku's borrowed technique, and he easily sold them on a modified version of Suguru's "annihilate all humans" plan.

The unexpected bonus was Mahito, who came into being during that interim year. The Humanoid curse was young but cunning, and came with a very unexpected power. By manipulating the soul of a living being, Mahito could freely alter its physiology. Naturally an easy test of this utility would have been talking Mahito into growing the missing arm back on Kenny's borrowed body, which I'm sure Mahito was more than happy to do to prove himself to his new powerful allies.

Now this is where things get interesting. Because Kenny's vessel is Suguru Geto's body, did Mahito manipulate Suguru Geto's soul to grow that arm back? My guess is yes, because of a brief little instance during the Shibuya incident where Kenjaku loses control of his vessel. When he reveals himself to taunt Satoru Gojo, which arm snaps up to to try choke him? The right one. Probably Suguru's dominant hand, sure, but also the one he lost in his fight with Yuta & Rika. The one Mahito had to grow back by tapping into that body's soul.

Now I'm not saying the whole of what remains of the real Suguru is stashed away in that arm. But I am saying that when Mahito touched the real Suguru's soul with his technique and got it moving, he woke it up a bit, just enough for it to know it was still there. I know a common interpretation of this little event is that protecting Satoru was as natural as muscle-memory for Suguru, and the motion was basically automatic. But what if when Satoru spoke to Kenjaku in Shibuya, Suguru's soul was the part that was awake enough to listen, to try to resist, to prove it was still in there.

So for all you wonderful fix-it fic writers, there's a new angle for you if you hadn't considered it. From speaking with Nanami and Yuji, Satoru must be aware of what Mahito is capable of. Perhaps Mahito's technique could be the key to recovering the real Suguru from within that stolen body...

[pedrosprincesa]

Landslide

pairings: joel miller x afab!reader

a/n: I didn't mean to become the person that writes fics based on Fleetwood Mac songs, but here I am. I listened to this song yesterday and the idea for this hit me. I am a shitty writer usually, and I am definitely NOT good at writing smut so for now you will only be getting fluffy Joel from me. follow me if you enjoy i guess!!

warnings: fluff, age gap (reader is mid- to late twenties, Joel is 56), not proofread, no use of y/n that I know of, I'm still dyslexic

wc: 3327 <3

It's not that I expected to have a crush on this man that seemingly picked me out of a dumpster fire. He found me at the brink of death by a few raiders. Joel had a soft spot for women, if that wasn't obvious enough. When he saw me, I didn't look much older than Ellie. The fear in my eyes and how close I knew I was to death gave me more youth I suppose.

Whatever it was, I was grateful to see him after he took out all three men that had been hunting you down. He had blood splattered across his face, panting after the exertion of strength he used to take them out. I would never forget how beautiful I thought he was, just in that moment.

He never meant to have a third person join along on the cross country trip. Hell, taking care of Ellie was enough to wear him out.

Joining about fifteen miles outside of Kansas City, I was met with an unenthusiastic Ellie and a hard-faced Joel. I didn't get the details of the event that occurred right away, but eventually I learned quickly that unenthusiastic wasn't normal for Ellie, and Joel... well, he was hard-faced. After some inevitable conversations, we all got to know each other as much as we would allow. Keeping each other safe can do that. Joel found out I was in my mid-twenties and he stopped treating me like a child, almost. He was quicker to give me a gun as opposed to Ellie—which, best believe, she gave him shit about—however, Joel just explained it was because I was older. I also thought it was because he realized quickly that I was pretty good with it too. However, he still hardly looked at me in anyway, let alone that way, and I blamed some of that on my age.

Joel also dealt with my presence, because Ellie had someone else to share her jokes with. I was also the one that kept Ellie curious, giving her random facts about things as well as knowing how certain things worked that Joel couldn't explain. He might have even smiled a few times because of me. That was something to gloat about.

It took a bit for him to warm up to me, but long nights on watch, sleeping in the same place a majority of the time to let Ellie have the bed if there was one, both made it hard not to speak. When we really started talking, I could see that he would enjoy other conversations with me. I was older than Ellie, and I knew about some of the music and movies Joel grew up with. If I hadn't seen the movie, he'd explain the plot to me loosely. One night I told him I've only ever seen The Emperor Strikes Back out of the Star Wars movies. Ellie had never seen any of them, but she was ecstatic to listen to Joel explain the premise of the movies about space and cool aliens.

Star Wars was easy to get her in to. Over about the month trip, I taught her about Fleetwood Mac too. The songs didn't really get her attention too much, mostly because I was only really humming a lot of it, but she really got into all the drama that happened in the band. Joel didn't ever comment on it until one night, he finally just asked, "how do you know all of this? This stuff was happening before you were born." I couldn't help but laugh as I closed my eyes. "Reading, Joel. Magazines are still pretty easy to find."

When we made it to Jackson, Wyoming, the welcome was about as warm as the weather. Guns aimed straight at our heads. Joel and I both knew we would pass the test with the dog, but Ellie... I could feel my heart pounding, until I heard the sweet little girl's giggles as the dog gave her kisses. Joel mentioned we were out looking for his brother and one woman just seemed to know exactly who it was.

Joel got to reunite with his brother, which was sweet, and luckily that connection got us a nice house across from theirs. Joel let Ellie and I get the first showers. Maria gave us shampoos and conditioners, body wash and even some lotion for after the shower. I was faster than Ellie, and I came out with damp hair and the new, clean clothes that were just a bit too big for me. I looked up and I just saw Joel's face kind of soften when he looked at me. It felt like he was really taking me in for the first time. I really don't think he's seen me freshly clean. Sure we got river water here and there, but now I was clean, smelled good, and I felt like I could just sit back and relax. "I saved you some hot water. I didn't trust Ellie to." I told him with a little smile. He didn't even get a chance before Ellie came into the living room.

"Jesus Christ, I'm probably fucking bald. So much hair came out. Is that normal?" She asked me. I took a look at her head and she definitely wasn't bald.

"Not bald, honey. It just happens when you wash your hair after a long while." I assured her.

Honey. Joel liked it when I called her that. His face didn't change much, but he looked down at his lap for a moment, taking in a sweet, almost domesticated moment for the three of us.

"Now you need to get a bath, because you smell awful." Ellie told him, grinning widely and he only had a half smirk and rolled his eyes before he got up from his seat.

The first week of being in Jackson consisted of lots of rest, and lots and lots of food. Both of which we hadn't been used to in a really long while, so much that this felt like a fairytale. I was waiting on the moment I would wake up. Maria and Tommy let us have a few days to ourselves to sleep. We really didn't have to worry about anything sneaking up on us. Joel tried staying up late that first night, but he found himself in his bed, after obsessively making sure all the windows and doors were locked, he was asleep for well over fifteen hours. He was so exhausted.

During those few days of having three meals a day, and occasionally seconds, I noticed Joel was looking a little more fuller, as was Ellie. It made my heart swell that they were both getting healthy again, and we weren't living off of scraps essentially. I had a feeling I was really going to like it here.

At the end of the week, Maria suggested we all have dinner as a "family" since the first meal on our first day didn't go as well as I wanted it to. Honestly, I was pretty convinced she had the wrong idea about me and Joel. We had only talked briefly the day we arrived when she gave us the clothes and supplies and she let me know our house was stocked with everything we needed. In my clothes, Maria had graciously gifted me. Ellie snatched out the small, lace lingerie bottoms and her jaw was dropped. "Ew! What the fuck is this even covering, dude! Do girls really wear this?" Ellie scoffed at the ancient artifact at this point, Victoria's Secret lingerie. I could never wear those now.

I had to give Ellie a little pep talk (I actually pleaded) for her to say nicer things at the table. Just try to at least, and she seemed very serious about it. She actually did well for the most part. When she started to slip up and say a curse word, if it hadn't came fully out, she just switched it up. If it did slip out fully, she just gave a wide eyed look at the table, before glancing at me and I just gave her a secret little "it's okay" to make sure she didn't stress about it too bad.

After dinner was over, it was obvious that Joel and Tommy were still having a bit of fun so there wasn't much of a push to leave. I didn't think I'd ever seen him this happy, but he was also a few glasses in. Maria mentioned we move to the back porch to have a fire going, since the living room had become overwhelming quickly. We could actually have a fire now. That was new, but I would enjoy that heat as much as I could.

It was a night of the Miller brothers easily bantering about who could shoot the furthest, and Joel just let Tommy have that, being the selflessly older brother type. He didn't care too much to have the title, but he knew Tommy was full of shit. "Nah, Joel's good at stuff too. Fantastic carpenter in the day. Decent guitar player. Has he played guitar for you yet?" Tommy asked, motioning over to me and Ellie.

"Yeah, totally, whenever we find a working guitar in the woods trying to get across country." I responded sarcastically, making every everyone laugh a bit. I took the chance to see the him laugh. It was honestly more like a giggle. Tommy must've had something stronger than the watered down shit he got from the QZ. Or Joel knew this was a place where he knew he could indulge a little more now. Either way, I just relished in the sight of how happy he looked.

"Well lucky for y'all, I actually found one. Months ago. I sure as hell dunno how to play it, but I liked having it around. Gave me a little piece of my brother." He mentioned with a sappy smile before he got up and went to grab it. He came back with it, and it was honestly in good shape. "Think you can still play?" Tommy asked Joel, holding the guitar out to him by the neck until he took it. "S'been a while since I've heard live music. Not sure anyone around here as a musical bone in their body." He added before he took his seat again.

Joel held the guitar in his lap, trying to find the right positioning in. Once he found it, he easily slipped back into it. "Well, you're not gonna get much. I'm pretty rusty, I'd say." Joel told Tommy when he cleared his throat, just giving a prompt warning not to expect anything crazy.

"Thought you wanted to be a singer, man?" Ellie asked him, always giving him a hard time, but that was how these two bonded. I had never seen such a thing, but it was so sweet. Even the way Joel gave her a scowl back made me smile. "Good thing you can though." Ellie mentioned. The little mastermind knew about my crush on Joel, after so much interrogation, of course. I wasn't going to just give it up until she pulled out all the times she's caught my "longing stares" at him in any situation. I didn't feel like it was a bad thing, the staring. It was better than my other option. Confessing how much I cared for this handsome man that happened to be double my age, and then having to be rejected. That would've made traveling a hell of a lot harder. I was convinced he didn't see me that way. He had said it once before—Ellie and I were only cargo.

Joel glanced up at me when Ellie mentioned I could sing. He just spent a whole month walking across the country, protecting each other, killing for each other. We had all seen each other at our lowest, yet he didn't know I could sing? Not that it was his fault necessarily. I only did it a couple times when I was explaining how Fleetwood Mac songs sounded like to Ellie, mostly while he was asleep. I was too shy to do it otherwise. "You can?" He asked and I felt everyone's eyes on me.

Luckily the orange light from the fire completely give away how bad I was blushing. "A little—not much. I only remember one acoustic song and it's "Landslide"... by Fleetwood Mac." I cleared my throat, giving a side eye to Ellie for getting me into this mess.

"You know how to play that one! After Sarah forced yo—" He cut himself once he consciously knew the name that slipped out of his mouth in the moment. It got quiet. Ellie and I were so aware of how we were not supposed to bring her up. It was an unspoken rule at that point.

Joel only looked at his brother for a moment before looking away and he nodded his head. "I do know how to play it." He finally responded with a little nod. "Practiced so much, it's muscle memory." His lips curved up just enough, barely giving him a little smile. It said what it needed to. Sarah had made him learn how to play it for whatever reason, and it was a memory he almost forgot about.

He started strumming the song after tuning a few bum strings and Ellie nudged me to make sure I was going to sing the lyrics. She was so excited. I could do it for her.

It was a very surreal experience, singing a song about the changes and challenges of life, especially in a post-apocalyptic world, where each one of us had lost people, lost ourselves. At one point I could see a tear fall down Maria's face but I had to focus my eyes elsewhere not to start crying myself. The song ended and this time, it was Joel that had the longing stare as he slipped the instrument out of his lap. Ellie caught it and she got a little twinkle in her eye, having an idea that her plan was falling into place. This could be the start of her very own real family.

After that, once Tommy checked the time, he knew he should probably be getting to bed because he had work tomorrow. He told his older brother to come on out so he could show him a few things. We were going to have to work as long as we were here, however long that may be, but it wasn't bad. We've had way worse. "Oh! Before you go!" Maria said and I raised my eyebrows a little, Ellie standing close by and Joel was already at the front door. Maria hurried back with a CD and The Very Best of Fleetwood Mac was printed on the top. "Go ahead and learn a few more songs. Keep the music alive, and the joy that comes with it. There will be more where that's coming from." She told me and Ellie looked wide eyed at the CD. It had all the songs I was telling her about.

"Thank you so much." I told her softly, taking her in for a hug. Joel watched me hug her and smiled a bit again. He knew I was full of love, even after all of these years. i could find love for anything, the moon. the clouds in the sky, colorful weeds that lined the roads we walked to get there. That scared him. He didn't know if he was worthy of it, after everything he's done. He knew I would be able to love him. He did make a mental note to try and maybe flirt back to test the waters with me, see if I was serious—even though I was every single time I made a slightly flirty comment.

"Hey, do you guys have any of the Star Wars movies by chance?" Ellie asked Maria curiously, breaking a soft moment. She figured if they had Fleetwood Mac, they could possibly have the movies she wanted to see so badly.

"We have all of them, episodes one and two, and four through six. Which one were you wanting to watch?" Maria raised her eyebrow a little with a smirk when Ellie squealed.

"All of them! Please!" Ellie bounced a bit and I couldn't help but smile wider. "Hear that Joel? We're gonna be watching all of the Star Wars movies!" She turned back to him, just to make sure he was as excited as she was about it, but this was excited Joel for the most part.

"Sure, Ellie. But I'm not watching them all in one night. They're pretty long movies. I'm too old for all that." He told her, letting her follow him back over to the house across the street with his arm obnoxiously draped over her head.

"Thank you, again. And just drop off the movies whenever you can. She's gonna go crazy." I laughed a bit as I walked out the door.

"We will. Take care of him, alright? Well, both of 'em. But let him know it's okay to loosen up a little around here." Tommy told me as I walked down the steps. After tonight, it was obvious to him that I was something a little more special to his brother, even if no one else could see it. Tommy caught all the little glances he never thought he'd see Joel give again. I had a power over you that I would probably never know the extent of. Tommy knew he was going to give Joel hell tomorrow though. He didn't know why Joel hadn't already made a move.

"I will take care of them!" I waved to them as I made it out to the street, getting across to my new home. Tommy and Maria made sure I made it inside safely before closing their door as well.

Once I was in my bed for the night, in clean clothes, under an actual duvet and an actual pillow, I was so close to sleep. I had fallen asleep so quickly in the last week. Just as I could feel myself drifting off, I heard my door creak open.

"Darlin'? You awake?" I heard Joel's deep southern accent say in the dark. I could barely make his outline out in the doorway, sure enough he couldn't see my eyes well enough to know if I was still awake or not.

"Yeah, I'm still awake." I partly lie. I hadn't been quite at that point yet, but I'm pretty sure him calling me darling would've woken me out of anything. It only happened a few times, and each time he's said it, it's just felt like an accident, like it just slipped out. This time, though, that felt real. "What's up?"

It took him a minute to answer, like he was actively trying to think of what to say, like he hadn't been rehearsing it. I would've paid good money to get a look of the expression his face held right now. "I, uh, was wonderin' if you'd come to my room, to sleep? Got kinda used to having you at my side at night. This last week sleepin' in'a different room, it's been..." it was like he was trying to find the right words to say, so he didn't sound like an idiot at my door.

Little did he know, explaining himself wasn't needed. I was already getting out of bed hugging my pillow, and I slipped by him in the doorway, headed to his room. He was kind of stunned, like he was surprised his pathetic attempt worked. "Well, c'mon cowboy. I'm ready for bed." I ushered him before walking into his room.

He had his girl safe in bed down the hall, and his girl waiting on him to get in bed. Maybe this was a great place for him.

[tlou-reid]

Okay so your AFAB nonbinary Emily fic got me in my feelings. It was so good!!!

I have a request idea where the AFAB nonbinary reader starts dating Spencer and Spencer being Spencer is all reassuring and scientific like, “people have been using gender neutral pronouns for thousands of years. It’s completely normal.” And he likes to impress the reader with his research that he’s done after getting to know them

If that’s also too specific I get it

note 1: i love that you guys enjoy me writing nonbinary reader!! my best friend is nonbinary so being able to show love for your community means a lot to me <3 but did want to say i am not nonbinary and i encourage you to seek out and support nonbinary writers as well!

note 2: i am a full-time student so i am not spending a lot of time researching lol if this info is wrong its bc it was from a quick google search

Send more requests here

All Spencer could do was smile as you were rambling about your gender identity. He loved listening to you talk, almost as much as he loved the blush on your cheek as you told him how you preferred gender neutral pronouns, and how you viewed yourself. "Honey," he chuckled as he cut you off, "I understand."

"Okay because," you rushed out, "I've just been thinking about this a lot and I know some people think it's weird or wrong or doesn't exist or stuff." Your voice fell as you finished. Your heart was pounding in chest. You knew Spencer would never judge you, he was the kindest man in the world. But Spencer was just the first step. After coming out to Spencer, there would be never-ending cycle of coming out. Friends, families, coworkers, doctors, everyone. It was overwhelming.

"Did you know gender neutral pronouns have been around for a very long time?" Spencer inquired, cutting off your train of thought. "It's dated back to the 14th century, at least the written record is. The first recorded use was a French poem about a pair of brothers. One turns into a werewolf, he saves his brother from his uncle that is trying to kill him."

All you could do was listen to Spencer spew facts he had memorized. You offered a "really?" and let yourself be comforted by both his voice and his knowledge.

"Really!" he exclaimed as he continued, "And while not completely correct as Native culture varies from tribe to tribe, there is a general idea of a 'Two-Spirit', of someone who is neither male or female. The idea of this can be hard to describe as the definitions available have been made to fit traditional western culture, and Native American culture has different rules and roles attributed to gender."

He barely let out a breath as he finished, "And, after all, gender is nothing but a social construct. What you define gender as is even different from what I define gender as. We all have our ascriptions based on our own personal education, experience, values, and perspectives. So whatever you choose to identify with is completely and totally up to you! I will do whatever I can to make you comfortable, I hope you know that."

A pleasant smile spread across your face, "I do know that." He leaned forward, said a quick "good", and pressed his lips to yours briefly. "I love you."

[romanarose]

Fic Recs

I'll admit I've been slacking. A lot. It was a high anxiety summer as you know, and I've finally been able to pretty much cut ties with an abusive friend who was causing a LOT of those anxiety and panic attacks. BUT I want to rec some of my fav writers and fav stories.

To keep the presure low on myself I am only linking ONE story per writer, whatever story that speaks to me. I do hope if you like the story you'll check out more from them!

Please remember to reblog their stories if you read them, and if you feel inclinded, leave a kind comment! Big comments are fantastic but even a short "Great story!" Means the world!

Dead Dove Do Not Eat and all dark fics will be in red. Might make a whole other dddne tag list on my dark blog on of these days lmfao

Moon Knight

Fractured Moon by @melodygatesauthor : DDDNE Yandere Moon boys x reader, non con, extreme violence but such good interpretations of the boys

Friendly Favors by @runa-falls best friend steven, friends with benefits??? friends to lovers??? yes plzzz

Rydal Keener

Oxford Comma by @whatthefishh : Collage AU, Rydall is cunty, serves cunt, and eats cunt. What can I say.

TLOU (Most of what I'm reading rn if im being honest)

Linger On by @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin : Pre-outbreak!Joel, angst, yummy smut, ft. my boyfriend, Tommy (Angela said I can be Tommy's gf)

Caught by @toxicanonymity : Inspired Keep Cry'n, Joel catches you when you try to run, masterbates onto your face. part 2 has TOMMMYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

Maintainence Man series by @gracieispunk : Joel is a, well, Maintenace man in our building! He is married but that doesn't stop him from fucking you

Hungry Hearts @atinylittlepain : If ya'll know me, you know I love Bruce Springsteen. I have 2 fics named after springsteen songs, one joel one javi/santi/reader. I've fallen behind on the series but loved it enough to make fan art! terrible fan art but still! Pre-outbreak, takes place in two timelines- college age and then the 2000'. Joel has Sarah, reader is ellies mom which I think is fun.

Exit Wounds by @strang3lov3 : No fic masterlist so I tagged the main masterlist. Now listen. I love Tommy Y'all know I love tommy... but cheating on tommy? Im so sorry baby. But ur also an asshole lol. Had it coming.

Creep by @theywhowriteandknowthings : I- ugh just read it. darkish but nothing insane like the wrong way lmfao. pretty mild comparatively but use discression but THAT TWISTTTTTTTT

Only Daddy That'll Walk the Line by @millerscoffee Yellow istead of red bc its not like. dark but Joel's pretty mean

Not A Survialist Girl by @tightjeansjavi again yellow bc joel's a dick lol but THE DIRTY TALK?!?!?!?!?!?!?

Miguel O'Hara

Halo by @missdictatorme : Miguel O'Hara goes full Nathan Bateman and fucks his ai. Whore.

Only You Only Me by @astroboots : so im behind on this one too. What about it! Im terrible I know but like Hungry Hearts above I may be a slow reader but I didn't forget and also did stupid fan art of this great fic too. lol. Anyway plz read this, I cant give a great summary bc im only a few chapters in but if youre in the oscar fandon you know cici writes only bangers

No One But Me by @koshkamartell : You try to break things off with Joel and begin spending time with the hot librrian in Jackson. Joel does not like thi

Triple Frontier

Under Neon Lights by @campingwiththecharmings : sexy drunk sex with my baby boi, santi <3

Through the Scope by @ssuperficialspacecadett : Reader works for Benny and falls for frankie. Great relationships with all the boys, reader has sexual trauma so you knoooooooow i eat these fics up!!!! lovely to see all them be appriciated with special focus on FRANKIE my precious lol guy

Shared Breathes by @frenchiereading : DAD FRANKIE x teacher reader. Triple frontier may have forgotten Frankie has a baby (he deserved the money for her) BUT WE DID NOT!!!!!

The Story of Us by @pimosworld : You served in the military with the boys but they made a deal not to sleep with you. Years later after helping you escape abuse, one by one they begin to waver aka you fuck them all. FishBen as a bonus!!

Goddamn have I really only been reading TLOU XD lmfao makes sense bc thats mostly what Im writing. That and the Javier pena x reader x santi and then the will fic but im soooooooooo much of a TLOU whore rn its insane.

Im sure ill remeber some more amazing TF fics soon but for now here we are!

Gonna plug real quick my latest one shot tho bc it's a holiday and I can self promo if I want! Shana Tova, moon boys x non jewish!reader where the moon boys share a part of their jewish identity with you!

THANK YOU TO ALL WRITERS FOR YOUR HARD WORK, I APPRICIATE YOU!

If you ever seen my like and not reblog know its just bc I forgot and im sorry. If you ever tagged me in a tag game and i never responded its bc I forgot and again IM SORRY

If I didnt tag anyone and you think i didt think your fic was worthy THATS NOT IT im simply overwhelmed with how much ive read and how this summer was and i just havnt organized it all. Im sorry!!

[dystopicjumpsuit]

DJ!

For your ficlets, could I request

'Mumbling unintelligibly into the embrace'

With Scorch from Delta Squad?

He's a soft boi really, and if anything happens to him in the finale, I will be cry 😭😭

Love you! ❤️💜💗♥️💚💓💖💙😍

A/N: Hi @arcsimper5! I’m so relieved to know that the person claiming to be Scorch in TBB was in fact an identity thief, and that the real Scorch is safe and happy and hanging out with Sev, whom he scooped up from Kashyyyk as soon as Scorch flipped the Empire the bird and dipped after Order 66. This ficlet takes place shortly before the brothers reunite. 💛💛💛

Pairing: Scorch x Reader (GN, has a pet vulptex named Lyca because I really want a pet vulptex and I would name her Lyca)

Rating: T (but as always, minors DNI)

Wordcount: 485

Warnings and tags: nightmares; panic symptoms; angst; hurt comfort; cuddles; Scorch blew up canon with a thermal detonator and the galaxy was a better place for it

Summary: Scorch grapples with the aftermath of Kashyyyk.

Suggested Listening:

This fic smells like: Pillowtalk Poet by Pinrose (rumpled sheets, soft musk, quiet whispers)

Masterlist | Sign up for my tag list

Scorch lurched forward, his eyes snapping open before he even realized he was awake. Sweat beaded on his skin as he sat up in bed, and he shoved the blankets away, suddenly overheated and overwhelmed with claustrophobia. He heard a faint tinkling sound followed by a small whimper as your pet vulptex nuzzled him gently, her cold nose bringing him back to his body. 

“Hey, Lyca,” he gasped. 

He gave her a reassuring pat, then scrubbed his hand over his head, blinking hard as he tried to get his bearings in the darkened bedroom. His thumb traced over the smooth scar where his inhibitor chip had been removed, a grim reminder of a terrifying reality.

The sheets rustled, and he knew he’d awakened you. Kriff.

“Scorch?” you murmured hoarsely, reaching for him. “Are you all right?”

Your hand rested on his shoulder, solid and comforting, and he reached for it with his own, holding onto you tightly, afraid that if he let go you might vanish into nothingness.

“Yeah,” he lied. “Just a bad dream.”

You were quiet for a moment, then you sat up and scooted closer, wrapping your arms around him. “Kashyyyk?”

He nodded, burying his face into the nook between your neck and shoulder as he clung to you. He mumbled against your skin as you stroked your hand up the back of his neck to tangle your fingers in his hair.

“Hm?” you asked as you pressed your lips against his head.

“I miss him so much,” he repeated, squeezing his eyes shut tight to keep the stinging tears from falling.

“I know,” you whispered. “I know you do. We’ll find him, I swear to you. We’ll get him back.”

“I should have gone back,” he choked as his throat constricted with grief. “I should have—”

“Stop,” you said firmly. “What happened was not your fault.”

“But—”

“It wasn’t.” You tightened your arms around him, holding him close. “You can’t keep blaming yourself like this, or it’s going to eat you alive.”

“Then whose fault is it?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you replied. “All that matters is what we do now. You told me you think Sev is still alive, right?”

“I know he is,” he said. “I can feel it.”

“Then he needs you to be on top of your game.” You kissed the side of his head again, then whispered, “I am here for you. I will do whatever you need me to do. But I can’t do it alone. We’ll get through this together, and we will find him, I promise.”

Slowly, he nodded, then pulled away just enough to look into your eyes as they glittered subtly in the semi-darkness. He rested his forehead against yours as he sighed, “I don’t deserve you.”

“You deserve better,” you said quietly as your lips brushed against his in the lightest kiss imaginable. “You deserve everything I can give, and more.”

---

Want to request a ficlet? Check out this list of prompts! Requests are open, but my writer's block is still plaguing me, so I might be a little slow in filling them, but I will fill them!

Want more Delta Squad? I have Sev fluff and spice!

Taglist:

@secondaryrealm @sev-on-kamino @523rdrebel @wings-and-beskar @merkitty49

@anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @arcsimper5 @starrylothcat @clio3kantarella

@cloneloverrrrr @goblininawig @ladytano420 @arctrooper69 @sunshinesdaydream

@littlemissmanga @stunkbiggu @starqueensthings @marierg @idontgetanysleep

@moonlightwarriorqueen @dudewhynotthis @sleepycreativewriter @tcwmatchmakingau @littlemissbshine

@multi-fan-dom-madness @heavenseed76 @wizardofrozz @bobaprint @sweetcream-coldfoam

@skellymom @pickleprickle @trixie2023 @mythical-illustrator @dickarchivist

@cw80831 @kimiheartblade @flyiingsly @lightwise @swcowgal

@reader6898 @cdblake1565 @epicy0n @starstofillmydream @msmeredithrose

@totallyunidentified @eclec-tech @euphoriacafe @hipwell @yve-barr

[ask-bolin]

Hello, can I request a fic where the reader is a script writer and works with Varrick on a new Nuktuk movie. When she meets Bolin in the studio she immediately falls in love with him and since it she always comes to the studio just to watch him play. He spots that and appreciates it and starts to like reader too. And on the premiere day of the finished movie they go on the red carpet already as a couple.

Thank you 💖 I hope it isn't too much. I just love Bolin sm and I am really glad that I found your profile.

Author: Yay I'm glad you found me, too. And I don't think it's too much, I'll try my best!

Bolin x F! Reader

______________________________

Imagine your writing skills grabbing the attention of Varrick. He offered to have you write for his next mover, and of course you accepted. You'd seen some of the other Nuktuk movers and you were excited to be part of the process for the next adventure.

Varrick knew with your writing, the next mover was going to be the greatest yet, but before getting started, he brought you to the studio to introduce you to the process.

"This is going to be huge," Varrick told you, "huge, I say! Zhu Li, didn't I say this was going to be huge?"

"Huge, sir," Zhu Li confirmed.

"Listen to me, kid, with you as my writer, and Bolin as our star, we're going to make the greatest mover of all time! BOLIN! Come meet the lovely lady that is going to bring us our most successful picture yet!"

Bolin had just walked into the studio when Varrick called him over.

"Bolin, this is Y/n. Y/n, Bolin. Bo, make her feel welcome, show her around, I do NOT want to lose this one, her writing is fantastic. HEY YOU!" Varrick then turned his attention to somebody across the way, "I said light teal! That's medium!" and off he stormed, leaving you with Bolin.

"Hey," Bolin greeted you, "I've heard a lot about you and read some of your work, it was all amazing, you're very talented."

Oh no. That's all it took? You wondered how it could spark so instantly. Maybe it was his eyes when he said it? Whatever it was, your heart melted.

"You okay? Here let's get you some water, that'll be a great place to start the tour. Our snack table is my favorite part of the job." Bolin was an absolute gentleman, even with his goofiness, when he gave you the tour. You knew you had to make sure to keep seeing him.

You had found the filming schedule and were able to watch Bolin act out the scenes you had written. It made perfect sense for the writer to be present to help with any clarification that may be needed while filming your story. That's what you told Bolin when he started to notice you at all of his scenes.

Bolin had appreciated you being at his scenes and showed his thanks by hanging out with you in between takes. It started off with friendly professionalism, including bouncing creative ideas off of each other. Then it became more personal when you both shared lunches together and got to know each other more. Soon, any available time on the set was spent together.

One day, after shooting, Bolin took your hand and asked you to follow him. You were intrigued, so you obliged. Bolin took you to another set in the studio and admitted, "This is where I imagined we'd share our first kiss." It was a set designed to look like a romantic island. It was a surprise to you, both because of it suddenly happening, and also with how long it took to happen.

Bolin placed a gentle hand under your chin to tilt your face up, and leaned in for a kiss. The kiss seemed to last for ages, but by the time it finally ended, you realized you both had wrapped your arms around the other, not wanting to let go. It was the start of your relationship together.

Eventually, the mover was complete, and you and Bolin knew there was going to be a huge surprise for everyone at the premier. Bolin was used to the attention so he reassured you that he would make sure you would not feel overwhelmed. It had taken all day to prepare and dress up for the event, but the moment had arrived when the satomobile stopped at the red carpet.

Bolin stepped out, and cameras flashed while everyone expected him to enter the premier right away, but they soon stopped when, instead, Bolin reached inside the vehicle. Your hand reached for his and he escorted you onto the red carpet. The Nuktuk fans immediately erupted, and the camera flashes returned with increased intensity. Bolin stayed close until it was no longer overwhelming, then, with your arm through his, you both made your way into the premier as the exciting new couple.

The next day, the newspapers were filled with articles about your relationship, and pictures of you and Bolin, obviously deeply in love, were on the front pages.

[parkitaco]

ok people. i really don't want to have to be saying this but i am once again being struck by the lack of etiquette in the byler fandom and just in current fandom in general so i just. have to say something ok

first off i'm gonna say that fandoms come from a place of love and i know everyone most people have good intentions and love their fic authors but the etiquette around fics and art and all that lovely stuff is,, how shall we put it,, literally nonexistent.

listen. i love writing fic. i love that people like reading my fics that's insane hello?? i love getting comments and kudos and getting messages from ppl who are excited about my future projects it's great!!!

that being said, when i receive messages asking when things will be out/comments on wip wednesday snippets asking if the fic is out yet/messages asking me to tag them when the fic is published, regardless of how good the intentions are it comes off as very demanding and doesn't make me feel good as a writer who is doing this Voluntarily and For Free.

fanfic writers do this for fun!! we are not machines, we are people with our own lives outside of fandom and those lives have to take priority most if not all of the time. this means that yes!! sometimes fics take a while to write!! sometimes chaptered fics take a while to update!! and guess what?? that is totally ok. fanfic writers taking their time is not a bad thing. it means they care and are taking their time to create quality content. it means that they are spending time tending to their real personal lives, which is a normal and healthy thing to do.

there are plenty of posts about why demanding faster updates is bad, and i think that's pretty common knowledge, but i want to talk specifically about these very enthusiastic comments/messages/etc because i don't think anyone means harm but the thing is that fic authors simply do not owe you anything. we don't owe it to you to let you know when a fic will be out, we don't owe it to you to tag you when it is, and we definitely don't owe it to you to provide information that you can easily find out for yourself. as a writer i'm already putting insane amounts of pressure on myself and receiving it from other people, even if that's not the intention, is just not a good feeling.

especially because much of this information is readily available to you!! while you may not be able to find out when a fic will be out (which is probably because the fic author doesn't know either), you are entirely capable of checking the timestamp on a post to see how old it was, then using a little thing called Critical Thinking Skills to determine whether it's likely the fic has been posted or not. if so then great!! most authors have their ao3 accounts linked somewhere on their blog page so YOU (yes, you!!) can go look for the fic on ao3!! if you don't find it, ao3 has a super cool feature where you can subscribe to an author, so you'll get an email notification whenever they post!! and while you're there, if you're truly desperate for something to read, you can always go through the fics they've already posted, and if you've read everything there already and/or they haven't posted anything yet, check their bookmarks and see if there's anything there you like!! and as a last resort, there's always the trusty old search bar on ao3, which you are capable of filtering to every last preference!! the byler fandom is huge and there are tons of fics out there so undoubtedly something will fit your taste.

i know that can feel daunting, and i know it's disappointing when a fic hasn't been posted or updated yet, but the good news is that if you're seeing a snippet it means the author is working on it!! a little patience never hurt anyone, and taking those steps to determine for yourself what's going on with the fic rather than bugging an author who is just trying to go about their life and work on content during whatever free time they have just proves that you care. the simple fact of the matter is that fic authors don't do this for attention, they do it for fun, and therefore we can't cater everything to you or answer questions that you should find the answers to yourself. it's not our responsibility to keep track of people who want to be tagged when a fic is published or want to know when it will be out, because all our energy is going into creating the content you so desperately want!! i'm just begging everyone to be a little bit independent. asking an author for this information just shows you don't care enough to find it for yourself and this sort of laziness is part of why fandoms die.

tldr: fic authors are not machines designed to please you, use some critical thinking once in a while, and please for the love of GOD just go touch grass. breathe some clean air. you'll feel better i promise

[joosbasschick]

🌌Void🌌

A Ricky x Fem!Reader (Angst/Fluff)

Summary: You have been having an extremely hard time for a few weeks, but today was just the one day that topped them all... So Ricky had to step in before he lost you to yourself.

Warnings/Mentions: Depression, Drug usage (prescribed medications), self-deprecation, LOTS OF CRYING, Pet names (Squirt, Honey, Sweetie, Maomao, and Darling), very small amount of violence? 

Hello everyone! I finally have completed my very first ZB1 fanfic and have truly become an official writer of Zumblr! This work has a lot of my emotions or feelings into it and was very self-indulgent when thought of. As many of my previous followers may have noticed, I’ve changed my user to “rickyschicky.” Yes, I’m going to mainly be writing about ZB1 from now on, but no I’ll still write for other groups/idols. But they most likely will be my ult biases or Idols that have a special place in my heart. This fic is coming out a lot later than I originally wanted it to due to a lot of personal things happening in my life. Now that this is released, I’ll be working on a proper pin that has a proper about me, rules for the blog, rules for asks and even an anon list for those who wish to SECRETLY stick around! Im very excited to have my fresh start, so perceive me well, pretty please! Feedback is always appreciated, and if you see mistakes don’t be afraid to send me a DM!

Cup. Pop. Gulp.

     This routine was normal for you, a dreaded ritual if anything. If you didn’t do this every morning and night, you know your life would be in shambles and unlivable. Curling into your favorite (F/C) blanket, you let out a sigh of emptiness as your feet mindlessly kick around in it. 

Managing depression, sucks.

     Mindlessly watching whatever was playing on the tv, the heart inside of your chest sunk deeper and deeper. Yet anything you put on couldn’t entertain you, not even rewatching your favorite shows. You can’t decide what’s worse; not remembering how many days it’s been since this started, not eating or hydrating enough, or the fact that you have shut all your friends out with your boyfriend being the very next one. You hear your best friend’s custom ringtone blare though your phone speakers at least twice a day, but you couldn’t help but sigh and say, “not today, (F/N)”. Everything from blaring sounds to the soft fabric currently on your fingertips felt like it was hardly there. Your body feels like over-used putty, numb and worn out from so much usage. It’s impossible though, it has felt like you haven’t moved from this spot in months. Who knows the actual time you even were here on the couch of you and your lover’s shared house.

     It’s pitiful how you couldn’t even jump from surprise when Ricky touches your head softly, “I’m home, squirt. I’m sorry I was out late, I wanted to finish getting a certain verse right.’ Only humming in response, you sit up and turn the tv down in an attempt to listen to him. By all means it wasn’t because you weren’t interested, it's far from that. It’s just hard to control your fuzzy mind and have it focus on something emotional at this moment in time. He didn’t like the lack-of response he received, gracefully walking over and sitting next to your cocooned form.

     “(Y/N), honey. Please look at me.” You tear your gaze from the random spot you decided to zone out on and look into his gentle, cat shaped eyes. They were full of concern and distress. You almost hated how he could easily read you like an open book just by the way you act or look. 

     “Sweetie don’t start crying, I am far from mad at you. I just want you to talk to me, tell me what you feel.” Ricky takes no time in using his large thumb to brush away the tears that unknowingly fell from your lash line. He lets his long arms wrap around your figure, pulling you into his comforting lap. 

     The first thought you could even think of through the numerous tears was ‘why am I like this?’. Feeling disgusted with yourself, you choke out a sob harder and limply lay your head on his shoulder. You take your medicine day and night as prescribed, so why are you still feeling like a hollow doll that’s incapable of nothing? Even in the love of your life’s arms, you couldn’t feel an ounce of happiness.

     Ricky sensed this, pulling your chin up and bringing you into a sweet and gentle kiss as he whispers soft praises of how strong you are. “Hey hey hey, don’t work yourself up too much (Y/N). We both know we will feel like shit, and I’ll call Hanbin to let him know I can’t come in to practice because you are just sooo sad.” He gives a cute pout, tickling your sides in mockery. Through your tears, you let out a huff that quickly turns into a squeal. You quickly throw your fists up and start lightly punching him in his wide shoulders and chest in an attempt to get his fingers away from your sensitive sides.

     “The last thing I need is for you yelled at by mother, Shen Ricky.” You scold, feeling a breath of life flow through your veins. It was hard to be upset when he acts silly or in this case: say something utterly stupid and cute. He chuckles, noticing how you were starting to change right before his eyes. He knew he had to continue before you slip back. 

     “Well, I can always bring you to practice?” 

     “Ricky, WakeOne literally won’t let me, even if you beg.”

     You sit in silence before just snorting at his antics. You shimmy out of the blanket and take care to put it around you and him, straddling his lap so you can lay your head on his collarbone right under his chin. Soon your body melts as you go limp once more. Ricky quickly accepted this new position by wrapping his arms around your lower back snugly, giving many annoying kisses to your temples and forehead. He felt you changing again and wanted to halt the process. Deciding this was too annoying right now, you attempt to pull the blanket above your head. Not liking this, your boyfriend quickly grabs the blanket with his teeth and starts tugging on it playfully, tickling your sides ferociously.  

     “What are you, a dog?” 

     “Actually, I’m a cat.”

     You don’t waste a second to jab your hand in his side, hearing him whimper for you to let up and be gentle. He sighs, giving up and letting you hide under the soft fabric, rocking your curled up form that was on his lap. After being together for a while, he knew your limits and when to stop. You just wanted someone to physically be there for you today, so that’s what he will do. Slowly moving the blanket off the top of your head, he gently clears his throat to sing for you in his mother tongue. You voiced to him before you loved hearing him sing so comfortably in his first language and even encouraged him to teach you a few songs in Chinese. 

     Not soon after you were about to pull the blanket over your head, you heard his deep, breathy voice fill your ears. Stopping your current action, you tuck your hair behind your ears so you could hear him clearly (even if you couldn’t understand a single thing coming from his lips), and let your head lay heavy on his shoulder. Sure, Ricky could be a total annoying brat when he wanted to be, but times like this are when you are the most thankful for him. You felt at one of your lowest points and instead of running or simply saying, ‘suck it up’, he stuck around and tried to learn how to take care of you and cheer you up. He took his time learning your needs, favorite activities and foods, and even points of his personality you enjoyed the most. You were his rose, freshly bloomed and bright red with an addicting scent. His romance, the one that made his heart fall in his stomach and bounce of his rib cage with a simple stare and gentle laugh. If he could, you would be carried everywhere in his pocket wherever he traveled. Ricky truly loved you, just for who you are.

     Not a second after he finished the song, you were wiping tears. You didn’t know what tears they really were at this point. You felt numb, but you at least felt something now compared to earlier. Sitting up carefully, you rub your raw puffy eyes to attempt to see him. Blinking rapidly, you saw he had a gentle smile on, your second favorite smile. Nothing could beat his largest, brightest smile he gives when he is bursting with happiness. Leaning over, you connect your sore lips with his thick, plush ones. Ricky’s chest rumbled smoothly under your hands that were propping you up, humming with the small show of affection. 

     “That’s my girl, so pretty even when she is the saddest soul on the planet.” He coos, large hands once again cupping your jaw tenderly. His eyes were sparkling, looking like the softest pieces of boba you have laid your own eyes on. Everything that exuded him at this moment spoke of love and truth. You lay your smaller hands ontop of his, enjoying the warmth of them. 

     “Maomao, let’s go to bed...I’m just really tired after today.” You confess, guilt laced in your voice. His thumb brushed your lip to hush you, smiling sweetly. 

     “There is nothing wrong with that, my darling. Let’s get some good rest and wake up to a new day. Together.” Your boyfriend promises, gently moving his hands to securely hold your thighs as he stands up and starts walking to your shared bedroom. He lays you down like royalty on the bed, swinging you in properly and tucks you in. By the time you were able to focus your eyes, he vanished from the room. 

     After a few minutes, you hear a familiar rattle come down the hallway as he slips in the room once again. He kneels by the bed a water in hand, and a yellow tinted bottle with a white cap on top. Sleepily, you grab the bottle and twist it open, smiling when you see the water bottle already opened and offered towards you.

Cup. Pop. Gulp.

         Managing depression, sucks.

                               But Ricky makes it suck a lot less.