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ohyouluckysaint · 22 days ago

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𓈒 　⨾ ⠀ starring ◜ ͡ 　 fall fawn!reader ╱﹙ cowgirl.ᐟt.d. ﹚

word count ༢ུ⠀✹ 2.5k MINORS STAY AWAY FROM THIS.

cw ─ ᭺ 𝐍𝒮𝐅𝐖(𝟏𝟖+) ╱ RATED R. ╋━ porn with very little plot, fluff if you squint, established relationship, top cowgirl!tashi, mirror sex with strap on, cunnilingus (r!receiving), kissing, semi-public fingering (r!receiving), dirty talk, spanking, a small mention of filming, pillow princess reader, tashi’s wearing the cowgirl hat (and she has you wear it too), explicit language, second person.

Tashi didn’t even want to go out. She came over to stay in with you all day even while knowing you had plans because you excitedly told her about it over the phone. She thought you’d change your mind this time and cuddle with her while watching reruns on television til’ the sunlight bleeds through the windows where the curtains are parted. She said, “I’m not a fan of your friends. You know that.” She thinks they’re “pretentious folk” but you insist they’re sweet and cool people. When you mentioned it was a dress up party, it seemed like even more of a reason to say no again. Until you stepped out of the closet dressed in some form fitting skimpy number. That was all the reason to finally say yes in her mind.

She wasn’t the type to beg you to stay home over something this trivial. Doesn’t want to be the possessive type. It’s why she bit her tongue about it which is rare. It totally doesn’t have anything to do with how she also got soaked at the sight and squeezed her thighs together not so subtly. Why do you have to be unfairly sexy?

She held onto your hand while navigating through the party. Her eyes couldn’t stray away from how cute your face looked in that freckled and white spot decorated makeup with the dark shaded and detailed nose tip as she walked beside you. But, just even a cut of anyone’s gaze lower it gets all risqué. She’s not complaining in the slightest.

Your boobs are begging to spill out of that top that seems too confined for them with each step and those fawn print short shorts have half of your ass hanging out. You saying, “Babe,” with a subtle frown tugging at your glossy plump lips, pulled her out of her thoughts. “Yeah, baby?” She responded. “My friends said hello, and you just stared off,” you murmured as your gaze flickered between hers, and she nodded. “Right, uh, hey y’all,” the lilt of her accent thickened, and they all just greeted her back awkwardly.

“Let’s get some drinks rolling, alright? I brought the sweet stuff.” You spoke up and raised the bag in the hand that wasn’t holding Tashi’s. You brought caramel apples and snickerdoodles. Homemade, of course, and your friends didn’t hesitate to all reach out, which earned a giggle from you before you pulled back and handed them out one by one, basking in the thanks from each one and even some hugs.

Now, you didn’t drink even by the middle of the night when a good chunk of people headed out. Tashi advised against it—she didn’t say precisely why other than wanting you to have a clear head. If she would’ve said she didn’t want to take care of you smelling like booze and being so whiny that would’ve sounded rude and had been a lie.

She doesn’t mind taking care of her sweetheart in any way she can. Just would much prefer taking care of you a different way tonight.

When you both headed to the bathroom on Tashi’s call, you instantaneously got the memo when you saw her eyes; pupils blown so wide there was hardly room for any brown. You hesitantly leaned close to her face before she rushed the rest of the distance and kissed you while gripping the back of your thighs. She hoisted you up onto the cool marble bathroom counter without pulling back once, convinced herself that if she did, it would only annoy her.

She didn’t pull back for breath until your hand found purchase on her shoulder and squeezed. You both panted for a moment before she tugged at the waistband of your shorts that was waiting for her to pull off those flimsy cotton panties from underneath them next. “In here?” You whisper incredulously, it’s obvious you’re worried about how it’s echoey and anyone could pass by even though the door was locked and Tashi double checked to make sure.

“You can keep quiet. You’ve done it before when I asked you pretty,” Tashi whispered back and smiled softly to which you leveled her with a look. “You can opt out now. I won’t be angry,” she said, relenting and pulling her hands back to simply rest on your thighs.

“No, I’m game. But, if we get caught I’m not kissing you for a month.” You whispered and she huffed out a breath of amusement before kissing your cheek and softly nodded as she pulled back. “Deal.”

Either she was confident you both wouldn’t get caught or that you’d cave in and kiss her as soon as tomorrow. It doesn’t matter which as she’s tugging your faux fawn fur shorts and brown cotton panties off in one smooth pull, baring the shea butter smooth expanse of your thighs and soaked pussy right in between to her half lidded eyes.

“Jesus,” she managed thickly and licked her lips like she hadn’t been snug there countless times before. She slid two of her fingers between your thighs and didn’t hesitate to plunge them inside. Her other hand came up to thumb your clit. You immediately grabbed onto the edge of the bathroom counter as you lightly bit the swell of your bottom lip to contain even the quietest sharp hitch of breath. Your face contorted in pleasure when she nudged her fingers against that sweet spot and then curled them, your dilated pupils and makeup making you look adorable.

She listened in awe at the wet feedback, but when she heard you whine she didn’t hesitate to kiss you to lessen the noise there. Your manicured hands gripped the edge of the counter a little more and you huffed out a breath through your nose like you’re irritated you can’t broadcast that she’s knuckle deep and making your head spin.

Truthfully, you hadn’t realized you made a sound. The more she pumped her fingers and rolled her thumb in steady, tight circles, the more your brain became titillated mush. You were so sure it’d blank out any second and you’d have more difficulty keeping things hushed. She pulled back from the kiss, licking her lips to rid of the string of saliva that connected you both still. “Listen to that…yeah, she’s talkin' t’me.” Tashi cooed, and you wanted to mewl at how her fingers only pumped faster and impossibly deeper just to hear more lewd squelching.

Tashi was just about to let something twice as dirty filter through her lips when there was a knock at the door and then some drunken incomprehensible blathering that was distinctly one of your friend's voices. “Shit,” she whispered and slipped her fingers out carefully, slurping her fingers as best as she could before shimmying your panties and shorts up your legs that were once at your ankles.

You were upset you didn’t even get the opportunity to cum yet, but put that feeling aside so you both could head out and wait until you’re at home this time. Neither of you necessarily got caught but it was clear you both had been making out at least.

The ambient lighting of your bedroom instantly set the mood again when you both made it back into the comfort of your home. She kissed your clit before sucking it, holding your thighs down and secure so you wouldn’t squeeze her head like a watermelon with rubber bands adding pressure to it. She found it cute how you always got to squirming when she sucked and lapped her tongue. Hell, you were already sensitive from what happened several minutes prior, rubbing and squeezing your thighs in the passenger seat of her pickup truck the whole way back didn’t seem to quell the ache.

She may as well have fucked you in the backseat.

Her nose nudged against the swell of your clit perfectly as she took her thumbs and spread your lips just to wrap her lips around it again and she moaned softly, keeping you just like that. Your thighs tremored slightly in response, you dragged your hips back a little with a soft near inaudible gasp. Only for her to follow and suckle insistently as her eyes casted up to look at your face, narrowed with that infamous stare as if making it clear she wasn’t happy with that. You pouted to nonverbally apologize before letting out a heady mix of a gasp and a moan, canting your head rearward against the sheets as her tongue finally dipped and went inside and worked feverishly.

"Fuuuuck," you dragged out in a whine, couldn’t help but grab onto the nearest thing, that being the hair on her head and you tugged. Didn’t hesitate to nudge her on closer and spread your thighs a little wider as your hips bucked impatiently. Her hand rested against your lower stomach and spread her fingers as if to steady herself as she allowed you to use her to chase that high. Her jaw relentlessly worked like no other. Anything to please the sweetest woman she knows.

Her name rips from the cavern of your throat and your thighs tremble as you try and shut them, your back arched up like a bowstring being pulled taut from the comfort of your bedsheets. You blink away the stars behind your eyes even as pleasure still seeps into your bones and the shakiness of your panting. She was addicted to that, always craving for her next fix and boy is she starving for a solution right now. She obnoxiously slurped at your pussy to get ‘er clean before lifting her head with sex mussed hair and a glistening chin and lips, she flashes a dopey smirk when you look down at her as if she was drunk on pussy alone. She probably was knowing her.

Tashi works at almost every opportunity to eat you out. Stressed? She knows just the thing to help. A thorough massage mostly focused on your shoulders and back and then disappearing head only between those plush thighs like clockwork. You suppose you’re at fault too for saying “Yes, that’d be nice,” all honeyed even while worn from a day of working or being at an outing when she suggests it.

“You good enough to keep taking me?” Tashi spoke up after giving you time to snap out of that initial haze as she rubbed your thighs up and down as a soothing gesture that was partly arousing.

“Blunt as always.” You responded followed by a chortle as your eyes narrowed playfully. But, that didn’t stop you from pushing her chest gently for her to lay back and for you to climb atop her, your palm still planted against her chest as her hands come to rest on your hips.

She patted your bare hip soon afterward to signal for you to move just a moment, “Gimme a sec.” She responded before getting up from the bed to head to the closet; you knew exactly what she was doing. But what surprised you is she also came out with her signature dusty brown cowgirl hat on her head even after securing that strap on at her hips. “Ass up, right at the edge in front of the mirror,” she gently commanded as she made her way over to you, all tall stature, and when you’re obliging, she elicits a low whistle. “Just like that, honey. Wish I was recordin’ right now.”

She’s always said you’d be a pretty little movie star. You’ve got the beauty, the smile, and the charisma for it. But for your personal films—if there were any—you’ve for damn sure got the voice for it too. She brings it out of you easily. You just need a little encouragement. She spanks your ass twice. She teased, sliding the tip against your slit before inching in, pressing past your walls with care as she delved in until she was fully seated making your eyes nearly roll back.

“Doin’ so good…” She murmured before drawing her hips back, not pulling out completely before driving her hips forward enough to slam right against your ass and you hiss softly before mewling. She doesn’t hesitate to keep going, hitting deep even while moving slow.

Your eyes fluttered up to the mirror to look at her, watching as her hips rocked and her hands gripped onto your waist with thumbs pressing at the dip of your back, her cowgirl hat keeping her upper face shadowed. The moment she lifts her head a little and makes eye contact with you, it’s like a missile being set off because she’s bucking her hips rougher and raising her hand for it to slap down against your ass hard enough to sting.

“Lord, just look at you,” Tashi mused breathily. It’s almost inaudible over your whines and the bed creaking in protest as she fucks you from behind. Her favorite because something along the lines of watching your ass ripple and how you always fuck her back from the sole encouragement of feeling that warmth closing in on your navel when you’re about to climax. You wouldn’t even be here ass up and a sweaty glistening back for your girlfriend if it weren’t for that costume you chose for that get together you dragged her along to.

But, you don’t regret it in the slightest. You can taste the words on your tongue that want to spill but each one is replaced with a soft mantra of ah! ah! ah! and what sounds like her name before it’s all muddled by another moan or stuttering gasp. “Speak up,” she says as she stares at you by the mirror reflection and your nails cinch into the sheets even more as you meet her gaze again. You don’t even speak and spread your thighs a little more before pushing your hips back to meet her halfway and you’re about to bury your pretty face into the sheets when she gently grasps underneath your chin to keep your head up. “Talk. To. Me.” She punctuated each word with a thrust and it only sent you crying out as you came for the second time.

She slowed her hips down to a steady bearable pace and rubbed her middle finger over your clit in tight agonizingly slow circles just to work you through it. She hummed and leaned down to cover your back with kisses as best as she could before relenting when you weren’t trembling as much anymore. She rested both of her hands against your hips and slid out, eliciting a soft whine from you followed by a wet pop. You slump against the bed and finally bury your face in the sheets.

“You get so loud everytime.” Tashi teased before taking her cowgirl hat off and resting it on your head. That’d make it seem like she was expecting the obvious: put on the hat, ride the cowgirl. But she knows you’re worn and not to worry she’s only letting you rest, planting the gentlest of kisses on your face and whispers of affection she knows you’ll comprehend and asking if you need anything before encouraging you to get cleaned up with her in a nice warm shower.

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kittynugg · 3 months ago

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guess who wrote another fanfiction!!?!?!?? THIS GUY

this one's going on tumblr first since it's a first draft, i'll throw it on my ao3 after i've refined it some (because as far as i know thats what talented writers on here do)

so make some noise if you like it because i might have ideas for more chapters who knows (im gonna write them regardless)

Just Say No

words: 1,947 not counting the little intro i wrote out rq

this is based right when ford's telling stan to fuck off in atots!!

also dont fucking tag this as ship.

"There's only one journal left," Stanford said as he walked up to Stan, the first journal–the first record of his eight-year folly–clutched in both hands. He handed it to him. "And you are the only person I can trust to take it."

He looked Stan in the face, his twin's eyes reflecting a fraction of the tiredness in his. His brows furrowed and he spoke. "I have something to ask of you. Remember our plans to sail around the world on a boat?"

And Stan's eyes widened slightly, and he smiled. This was a good sign.

"Take this book," he gestured behind him with his thumb. "Get on a boat," his arms flew upward emphatically. "And sail as far away as you can! To the edge of the Earth!"

Stan's expression faltered. This was a bad sign. Ford turned around and paced toward the portal.

"Bury it where no one can find it!" He swiped a hand downward, then folded his arms behind his back.

“..Uh, no.”

A word and a vocable. The last ones he expected to leave Stan’s mouth in that moment as padded over to hand the journal back to him. In his shock, Ford took it, running his thumb over the textured, tattered binding.

The room felt colder. And it wasn’t the harsh winter.

“..No?” He quoted, and his reflection in the gold six-fingered hand on the cover glared angrily back at him. Then he looked back up at Stan. His twin’s lips were pursed and his shoulders were relaxed. “What do you mean, ‘no’?”

Stanley, just as Ford remembered, was not taking this seriously. It was clear he heard the anger in Ford’s tone but either didn’t care whatsoever about the fate of the universe or (the more likely answer) was being an insufferable mule for no reason. His eyes narrowed, and he said, “I mean fuck that shit.”

Ford’s jaw dropped a little. Instead of lashing out like his dear old abusive Pa had taught him, and like he so desperately wanted to, he handed the journal back to Stan. He did not take it and pushed it back toward him with a single calloused finger. “You can’t just say no, this is– this is the fate of the universe. Take the journal.”

“I can say it, and I’m sayin’ it again. No.” Now Stan was grinning. Like he always used to when they were kids when he knew he was getting to him. Unfortunately for Stanford this got to him even more than just the petulant refusal. “I’d do anything for you, Sixer, except for this one thing.” He folded his arms as Ford’s jaw clenched.

Fascinating. His brother was just as much of a miserable prick as he thought. Even after being allowed years to pull himself together. It was truly astounding.

Those observations came out verbally, just in a more crass way than Ford expected. “Stop being an asshole and take the book.” He was not one to swear– he just.. Wasn’t quite prepared for this. Stan was supposed to say “okay, Ford! I’ll leave and never come back!” and take the journal and leave. Such a simple directive!

“Name calling, really?” Stan placed his hands on his hips, his smile widening and the fire behind his eyes burning just a little brighter. “You’re gonna just do name calling?” He was having fun with this! Ford knew it!

He turned around to avoid looking at that smug face. “I’m not calling names, alright? I’m just stating facts. And the fact is–you’re an asshole.” Because he was! This was supposed to be a no-brainer. Take journal. Leave. Sail ocean. Bury journal. Dimension is safe.

What was so difficult about that?

“You’re the one who called me all the way up to this cold-ass state just to say ‘hey, fuck off!’” Stanley uttered that completely incorrect quote in a slightly higher voice, doing air-quotes with his fingers and rolling his eyes. His words had this.. Melancholy edge. Almost like the whole sentence hurt to say. “Maybe I’d’a done it if you acted like you wanted to see me at least..”

“..maybe sat down for coffee..”

“..talked..”

“It’s been a while, yanno?”

Well, now Ford made sure he wasn’t facing Stan for a different reason, because he was sure his expression had pinched into one of guilt and “ooh. I’m the asshole” and he refused to let Stan feel as if he was in the right for flippantly denying his one chance to be good. To make up for the years he could have spent studying in a liveable dorm room without insects crawling over his books that Stan ruined when he made the decision to– he should be saying this out loud. That would make a good argument.

“Maybe I’d be more willing to have coffee with you if you didn’t ruin my li-” he was cut off by a shrieked mockery of his own voice.

“WAAAAAAAAAAH!! MY SCIENCE FAIR EXPEWIMENT!!” Stan stomped a foot forward and balled his hands into fists. “IT WAS AN ACCIDENT, FORD. CRY ABOUT IT.”

His shout echoed against the concrete walls of the spacious basement for a few moments, and when it died down they were left staring at each other in shock. Ford’s shoulders were hunched all the way up to his ears. Stan stepped back and tapped his fingertips together.

The silence stretched on.

And on.

Until Ford spoke up.

“..But Dad said–”

This time Stan interrupted him in a small, almost broken voice, staring down at his feet. “Dad’s a fucking liar.” Ford hated Stan because of an accident.

No, Dad made him hate Stan because of an accident. Of course, all this time.. He was just– that was the only reason he kept them in the first place. Because maybe one day one of them would be useful. And when the prospect of “use” faded, well..

His right eye twinged. He was taught how disposable human beings were. He was taught very well.

And yet, a feeling in his gut, or his heart or wherever told him that this was it. His deus ex machina.

Absolutely not. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He chose to fight the narrative.

“That doesn’t change the fact that you did it. And.. brushed it off like it was nothing.” He ran a hand through his hair and started to pace. “You could have told me and I could have fixed it, then I’d have been accepted and I wouldn’t be here right now.”

The narrative, of course, didn’t like that one bit and fought back. Stan tightly folded his arms over his chest. “I didn’t want to be alone, it’s not– come on! You- you were seventeen too, you know what it’s like! “Bein’ scared, thinkin’ about the future.. Wondering if you’ll ever get a break– You’ve gotta know what I’m talking about.” He looked at his twin.

Ford saw the eyes of a puppy looking up at the bottom of his master’s boot. The eyes he remembered from the night Pa kicked him out. The eyes he avoided for a very long time, and yet the ones he saw in the mirror every night.

“I don’t,” he said, and Stan’s shoulders slumped. “My future was planned out for me. I didn’t have a choice, the first thing Dad did after I stopped–” He paused mid-step, then his foot slowly fell to the ground back into rhythm. “..after I got a good night’s rest, the first thing he did was pressure me to find a new college to go to.”

Stan huffed a sigh. “Yeah.. that’s rough. I remember my first night after that, heh, cried my damn eyes out.” There was no humor in his chuckle, and no joy in his smile. Only a hollow, empty feeling that was definitely another blow from the narrative.

“I, um.. Also.. cried,” Ford admitted with his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. Tally that up– narrative, one. Ford, zilch.

“You did?” For some reason or other, his twin’s eyes widened. Like his own twin wouldn’t miss him.

Ford is crying. Ma holds him, and he can feel the way her shoulders hitch every now and then. It makes him feel worse, like her crying is his fault. He heaves his sobs into her chest anyway. It’s all he can do.

He can’t go back to that empty room.

It takes a while, but he can eventually breathe again. Just enough to pull away and look up at her, eyes wide and glasses pushed up to his forehead, and ask, “Ma.. Is- Is Stanley gonna be okay? Please tell me he’s going to be okay!” His voice comes out louder, more desperate than he’d hoped, but Ma manages a smile through her own tears.

“You don’t need a psychic to tell you that, hun..” she says. “He’s gonna be just fine, he’s not as useless as your Pa always tells the two a’you.”

Summoned like the demon he must be, Pa walks into the room. “Your brother? He’s probably already out selling drugs. Don’t bullshit him, Caryn.” He sits down and picks up his newspaper as if he didn’t just say that, and Ma’s hold on him loosens.

He cries harder.

Back in the real world and not Sad Flashback World, Ford made a point to keep his eyes wide open to prevent the tears stinging in them from falling. “..A little, yes,” he muttered casually with a shrug. “But I got over it.” He folded his arms behind his back.

“You’re still a shit liar, wow,” snickered his twin. “So you.. you’re sayin’ you missed me, right?” There was that puppy look again, except even more hopeful.

Ford looked up, cursed the narrative under his breath, and nodded.

You win this round.

“Silly question, but yes. I missed you.” Oh, ew, he actually felt lighter after saying that. “..and I still do.” To stop his lip from quivering he bit it, his eyes darting aside, and he slapped a hand to his face. “Fine! Fine, I’ll say it!” He opened up his coat and whipped the journal out. “Perhaps part of me wishes this wasn’t the only way, okay!? But- But it is!” His arm jutted out toward Stan, pushing the journal into his chest. “Stop making me feel unwanted emotions and take it! We can be pen pals if you must–”

Stan took the journal and hurled it across the room, the book landing with a thud and a burst of dust. Ford gave him a bewildered look. Instead of acknowledging it whatsoever, he tightly wrapped his arms around his twin.

Who.. did not reciprocate and just stiffly stood there like a scarecrow.

“..What– what are you–”

He was shushed. Shushed! Like an animal! But then Stan went all tense again. In a slow tone, like someone, again, confronting a wild animal, he spoke. “Ford, when’s the last time you ate?” Hm, he may have been a little on the skinny side. When was the last time he..

It took him a moment of hard thinking, but he pulled an answer from the recesses of his memory. “Tuesday, why?” Today was Wednesday. That wasn’t too bad.

“Last Tuesday?”

“Yes.”

“..No wonder you can’t fucking think clearly!” Stan pulled away with the same expression Mom would get when they’d skip lunch because they were too busy doing something stupid outside. “Bet you haven’t slept since then, either!”

Ford’s eyes narrowed. “Yes I ha– wait, could you hug me again?”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Stan mumbled, complying, and then Ford continued.

“Anyway– Yes I have! I slept for an hour yesterday and I’ve got the wounds to prove it!” He pointed to his arm with a disgruntled huff, and Stan’s expression became that of a fish out of water. His eyes practically popping out of his face, his mouth agape.

“..what,” whispered his twin after a second of opening and closing his mouth like an idiot. “Wounds? Ford, have you been–”

Realizing his mistake, he threw his arms around Stan and squeezed as tightly as he could. Until Stan started to wheeze. “It isn’t important!” A shrill chuckle escaped him. “Brotherly love is, though! Come here!”

“Are you just tryna change the subject or do you mean that?” A chin rested on Ford’s shoulder.

Ford whispered, “..a little bit of both,” and couldn’t fight the smile off his face when Stan’s hold on him tightened. To Hell with the narrative, this was his choice. His deus ex machina.

And.. maybe he needed it more than he thought.

“We’re talking about the wounds later, though.”

“Shut up and hold me.”

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jon-sedai · 9 months ago

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And remember kids, the next time someone tells you, "George R. R. Martin wouldn't make Jon Snow the typical fantasy hero because that's cliche".....

Oh yes he would!

One viewer wants to know what character would you play (on the show)? GRRM: If I could magically clap my hands and become a different person, it would be cool to play Jon Snow who's much more of the classic hero. Everybody wants to be the classic hero! ABC Interview, 2014

GRRM: And the character I’d want to be? Well who wouldn’t want to be Jon Snow — the brooding, Byronic, romantic hero whom all the girls love. Meduza Interview, 2017

In fact he already has ☺️

#asoiaf #jon snow #yes grrm has criticized neo-tolkein fantasy - a lot!#but like....dpmo #I need so many people in this godforsaken fandom to familiarize themselves with grrm's engagement with the genre #he isn't trying to say “chosen one boy protagonist bad” where tf did people get that???#he's directly trying to challenge the more unsatisfactory elements of lesser copies of tolkien's legendarium #the ones that lift lotr wholesale without actually understanding what makes tolkien's writing snap #at the same time he has admitted himself that he has borrowed from lotr albeit with his own twists #but people in this fandom need to know that ye old man LOVES sword-and-sorcery fantasy #he LOVES a good epic #he LOVES pulp fantasy and sci fi #and those inspirations are directly reflected in asoiaf #the way he's named arthuriana/lotr/MST and many pulp stories with brooding dark heroes as key inspirations #almost all of which have mcs who fall into the typical fantasy hero role #and they inspire elements that are reflected back onto jon more than anyone else in asoiaf #like seoman snowlock = jon (+bran)#frodo - who btw is the mc in lotr not aragorn!! = jon (and bran)#FUCKING KING ARTHUR IS JON SO MUCH SO THAT RLJ IS LITERALLY A 1:1 COPY OF ARTHUR'S BIRTH STORY LIKE??!!!!#anyone who's even a little bit familiar with le morte d'arthur will be like oh yeah jon is literally king arthur like 😭😭#same with anyone who's ready the once and future king - which grrm has directly identified as his fav take on arthurian lit #ntm that jon is based on some of the most prolific characters in arthuriana - percival/galahad/lancelot etc #did you know that there's an iconic sci-fi series whose main character is called Eric JOHN STARK?#well grrm has directly quoted that series and the mc as a foundational book in his life #funny that huh? 🙂#do people even know what tf they're talking about when they say stuff like this???? ajdhhjshsbvshja #grrm engages very heavily with traditional fantasy tropes but he of course provides his own spin on them #never has he said that he's trying to avoid stories with hidden princes or chosen ones as boy protagonists #like someone find me a direct quote of him saying that - but I bet you can't smh

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cameforstuff · 3 months ago

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A Calm Night, for Mabel

Mabel was sleeping and Ford was freaking out.

Ford had been simply explaining his improvements to her grappling hook, when he noticed she had nodded off. Mabel's head is at an odd angle and she is hugging herself.

Is she cold? Could she breathe with her head like that? Should Ford move her?

Ford starts pacing, eyes darting back whenever Mabel shifts or snores. Occasionally, Ford would reach out, but stop only an inch away. Every time, Ford looks down at his hands with apprehension. Sure Mabel did not seem to mind his fingers when she is awake, but what if they scare her unconscious mind?

Ford had never been good with kids. He had a similar freak out when Dipper fell asleep during one of their DDMD games. Except Stan had been there, scooping the boy up wordlessly and carrying him to bed. Should Ford do that? Could he?

Moses, would Stan fish faster.

Ford had barely just started getting to know the kids, Dipper more so. Sure Mabel and him had a fun day, but is he close enough to simply snatch Mabel up? She shifts again, now practically laying face down into the couch. Ford feels his panic rise now unbearable.

Ford could not let one of the kids suffocate on his watch. Slowly, he scoops Mabel up. Ford's back aching from just how slowly he does so. Yet it seems to do the trick as she stays asleep. He rises with the same level of care. Ford freezes when she shifts in his arms. Her eyes open a crack, and she mumbles something as she nuzzles deeper into Ford's arms.

When Mabel drifts back into sleep, Ford sighs in relief. He takes several slow steps out of the living room and into the entry way. He looks at the stairs with hesitation. How would Ford get up without shaking her? He would also be risking falling with no arms to catch himself. Ford deems it too risky. He refuses to let any harm come to his niece.

So Ford turns and moves towards his room. Sure his couch is not as comfy as a bed, but it is safe. He lays her down, just as gently as he had picked her up. It is a bit hard to let go, as Mabel is holding tightly onto his sweater. He carefully pries each finger off, making sure to be as gentle as possible. Once free he stood and smiles. Safe; able to breathe; Perfect.

Ford took a breath to calm himself, but then he realizes he had forgotten a blanket for Mabel. He lightly drapes his blanket over her, but is dissatisfied. Mabel always wore sweaters despite the heat, so she must be cold. How dumb of Ford not to notice. He left the room and set about finding the warmest and softest blankets he could.

When Ford checks Mabel and Dipper's room, he notices not only is her pig there, but she also had many stuffed animals on her bed. Ford stacks as many as he could on one arm, and scoops up her pig as well. He crept back into the room and set his collection down. Her pig, Waddles, simply crawls over and lays near her side. Ford hovers, ready to snatch Waddles if he dares to step wrong.

Mabel rolls to accommodate the pig and pulls Waddles into a hug. Thankfully, not blocking her face. The pig did not seem to hinder her breathing, so Ford moves to his next task. He starts layering the blankets. It took several tries to make sure the blankets laid perfectly. No cold would attack Ford's niece.

For the final touch, Ford began tucking the stuffed animals wherever he could. Without putting to much weight on her vitals, of course. One, a stuffed unicorn, starts talking when he had grabs it. Startled, Ford rips out its voice box and crushes it in his hand. Ford looks down at the poor toy in shame. He would have to repair it tomorrow.

He took a few careful steps back. Carefully, he surveys his handy-work. She seems to be breathing fine; the pig did not move; the blankets allow no gaps; the stuffed animals did not dare to shift. Ford smiles, feeling satisfied. He had done it.

Ford moves to leave but became nervous. What if something woke her? What if she woke up and is confused? What if he had not done something right? Ford took a seat at the nearby desk. He uses the light of the moon to sketch out math equations from memory. More to keep himself up rather than for actual practice. Ford glances back at his niece constantly, just to make absolute sure all is well.

Stan came home about midnight, with a tired but happy Dipper. Mabel's idea of "Grunkle Bonding Day" seems to have gone just as she had thought. At least on their end. Stan follows Dipper up to check on Mabel, but found her bed empty. Both of Mabel and her bedding. Both Dipper and Stan share a confused look.

Stan moves around the house searching. Finally he pops his head into Ford's room and held back a laugh.

Ford lay face down in a book at his desk. Yet, both Stan and Dipper were drawn to the mass of blankets and stuffed animals on the couch. Under which, lay a sleeping Mabel, seemingly unbothered. It seems their day had gone well.

Stan takes a left over blanket, seemly unfit for Mabel's cocoon, and tosses it over to Dipper. He crawls onto the couch and forms his own smaller cocoon. Stan walked over and removed his brothers glasses and drapes Ford's trench coat over him. Stan looks down at a stuffed unicorn that had practically been ripped in half. He is curious, but decides to leave that for tomorrow. Stan took his own spot at one end of the couch, and leans back. Nothing and no one moves until morning.

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bellaxgiornata · 2 years ago

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I'm already over here with my pumpkin decor and my pumpkin candle in a cozy sweater so you KNOW I'm already participating! 🧡 I already have ideas and this will be the first writing challenge I actually participate in 🙌🏻

Mandy's Sweater Weather Writing Challenge

IT’S THE MOST WONDERFUL TIME OF THE YEAR! Whether you call it Fall or Autumn, we all love it. It’s time for sweaters, pumpkin spice everything, spooky movies, and cooler weather. So, I have made a list of prompts to pick from to write the ULTIMATE cozy fall fics! Pick as many as you want! All fandoms are welcome! Don’t see anything on the list that speaks to you? Create your own! Feel free to incorporate your favorite tropes!

Rules, prompts, and dates below the cut:

RULES: The boring stuff, I know, but there are only a few rules. The fics can include smut and dark themes, but there MUST be some element of comfort, and please tag things appropriately. You can write for any fandom and any pairing you want, but please, no RPF. Tag your fics with #mandy’s sweater weather challenge so I can reblog your fics to get them exposure! I will be tracking this tag, but you can also tag me @she-likesorchids. Reblog this post to spread the word!

DATES: Now until October 9th!

Song Prompt: Pick a song that has the ultimate cozy Autumn vibe to you and write a fic inspired by it.

Sentence Prompts:

1: “Here, take my jacket/sweater/hoodie”

2: “Stop hogging the blanket”

3: “Let’s just stay in bed”

4: “You got some whipped cream on your face”

5: “Can’t you see I’m reading”

6: “Wanna go for a drive”

7: “Oh no, it’s raining”

8: “Don’t move, you’re warm”

9: “You taste like cinnamon”

10: “Get inside, you’re all wet”

11: “Your hands are cold”

12: “Why is the kitchen such a mess”

13: “Don’t think about jumping in that pile of leaves”

14: “I’m scared”

15: “Are we stuck here”

Fall Activity Prompts:

Apple Orchard

Pumpkin Patch

Hayride

Watching scary movies

Weekend at a cabin in the woods

Baking/Cooking together

Decorating for Autumn

Sitting by a Bonfire/Campfire/Fireplace

Pumpkin carving

HAPPY FALL, Y’ALL! And happy writing!

#mandy's sweater weather challenge #fall writing challenge #I LOVE FALL

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biblio-smia · 2 years ago

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humbly requesting dad!mike,,, like literally anything. this man is so tired but he’s such a dad type of tired if you get what i mean

OH MAN,,,, YEAH! i hope this was what you were looking for!!

the sun beats down on mike through the thick glass of his windshield, forcing him to pull the sun visor down. he inches forward in the car line - he really should just put the car into park. he's half-distracted as someone behind him honks and it takes a few seconds for mike to realize it's at him, mumbling an apology that will never be heard as he pulls up.

mike needs a recharge. he's surprised himself over the years, watching as he has become the type of person that gets energized from being around others instead of from being alone like he had been for years.

although, this seems to only apply to family - mike still can't stand being around strangers for too long but can feel his battery be replenished the minute he's home.

mike watches as a teacher helps a smaller kid into the car in front of his, watching the parent turn back and make sure the child was buckled up before driving away. mike finds himself smiling and it's his turn now. he can feel his demeanor softening, the anticipation to see a piece that would make him feel a little more whole again rising in his throat. mike smiles at the teacher who leans close to his car, examining the numbers on the tag that dangles from the rear view mirror, quietly memorizing them while she goes back inside to find the child with the matching number.

but she comes back empty-handed. mike tries not to frown but his heart is beginning to race as he rolls down the window, only faintly aware that he is holding up the line.

there's a brief conversation between mike and the helpful teacher who tells mike his child has already been picked up, eyes glancing to the car behind him. mike gets the message, though he'd like to ask for her to just double-check, pulling into a parking spot out of the way of others. his teeth catch the inside of his cheek as he thinks, thousands of thoughts milling around his head.

his nokia begins to ring and mike answers it haphazardly. he blinks quickly once he hears your voice on the other end.

"hi," you start, sweet as ever. "are you almost home?" there's a natural curiously in your voice, the end of your sentence dipping up in question. mike glances at the time - yes, he'd usually be home by now.

"uh," mike starts, a warm feeling settling over his cheeks, suddenly seriously considering that maybe today wasn't mike's turn to pick up his kid. "yeah, i'm almost there."

there's a bit of silence as you hesitate, waiting for an explanation from mike that doesn't come.

but then you pipe up again and mike can hear the smile in your voice. "10 minutes?"

"less," mike promises, saying goodbye with a kiss he wishes he could be placing on your lips rather than against the speaker of his tiny phone.

mike seeks you out quickly, stopping you from pulling out plates for dinner with his strong hold around your body. he presses his lips lazily against your jaw, tickling your skin, voice low as he greets you a little tiredly.

you don't have the chance to ask where he's been before a small body coming racing over, wrapping around mike's legs and asking him for you.

"what took you so long?" a muffled voice whines and mike has to crouch down and wrap his warm arms around his child to begin soothing that tiny frown. "you're usually here early on tuesdays."

"tuesday," mike muses quietly, picking up his kid as he rises. "today's tuesday..."

you can't stifle your laugh, pressing kisses to both heads and placing two different hands on two different backs

"i think daddy got confused about what day it is," you grin and mike tries to frown.

"you need a calendar," the small voice chimes again, this time muffled from against mike's shoulder.

a laugh bursts out of mike and he moves to move the little body from his arms to a seat at the dining table. "yeah, i think i do," he admits with a smile, walking back over to the kitchen to help with the task he'd interrupted.

mike listens intently about a fight that had happened on the playground, another in the cafeteria, and about spilled paint in art class, stories told through bites of food and details clarified by questions thrown in by you and mike.

it's mike's turn to clean up while it's up to you to wrangle the little one into the shower.

mike loses himself in his thoughts again, mindlessly wiping bits of food off the counter, not realizing you were calling his name until he feels his back-and-forth motion of his hand come to a halt.

"hey," you call, voice as affectionate as ever. "where's your head?"

mike looks into your eyes and blinks for a few moments, before sighing and burying his face in the crook of your neck, seeking the comfort of your familiar scent. "i don't know," he groans and you quietly try not to laugh.

your apologetic hands come up to soothe him, touch against his back soothing his muscles. he picks up his head and looks at you, at your eyes and the curve of your nose and how it comes in to become your mouth. he stares at your lips quietly before pressing his own against them, feeling his body fully relax at the connection.

"ewwww!" a familiar voice shrieks but mike, at this point, is immune. he lingers in his spot for a few seconds, not quite wanting to let go but unable to continue without oxygen.

there's soft laughter from you and mike, reminders that it's time for bed making the smallest person in the room even smaller. then an idea strikes.

"can i sleep with you guys tonight?" the quiet voice pleads hopefully, hands clasped and eyes wide.

you and mike exchange a glance and small smiles. mike scoops the child up, nodding. a deal is struck and small cheers are made.

your kid jumps onto bed enthusiastically and you're worried the energy won't wear off by the time you all need to sleep. you and mike are careful climbing into bed, cautious of the small limbs that lay sprawled out. mike smiles as he feels his arm get pulled by a smaller one, feeling your hand and grinning when he looks over to see you've gotten the same treatment.

there's pleading for a bedtime story and you and mike take turns, adding in new bits and twists - though you have to take over as mike's words begin to turn into incoherent mumbles.

"keep going," mike manages to get out, half-asleep, shifted in his position so his arm is protectively thrown around the two other bodies with him, the tiniest one humming in agreement. your words are soothingly sweet, lulling not only your child to sleep but mike, too.

you comply, continuing to tell the now nonsensical story to a partially unconscious audience, purposefully leaving long bits of silence between each of your sentences. mike's fingers will tap against your waist occasionally, signaling to you that his brain has not fully drifted off just yet.

it only takes a few more lines. you pause your words again, lie still to wait if there's a tap, listen closely to the sounds of quiet breathing. your eyes are adjusted to the darkness and see two pairs of eyes closed, two sets of chests rising and falling.

you're careful not to move too much, pulling the blanket up higher.

"goodnight," you whisper softly, hoping maybe your message will make its way to them in their dreams.

the warmth of two bodies next to yours and the gentle rhythm of breathing take you out quickly, dragging you into the same state as those around you.

throughout the night, the three of you entangle yourselves even more, arms wrapped around torsos and small hands clutching onto the soft fabric of pajamas.

there's really nothing quite like it.

requests for mike schmidt are open!

#mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt fluff #five nights at freddy's #fnaf x reader #fnaf movie #fnaf #try not to write about mike falling asleep challenge FAILED #v + mike #v writes

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localcanadiancreature62 · 8 months ago

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Hey y'alls. The BillfordWeek2024 event starts TODAY!. And i don't want to be the only entry right now so pspspspsps @cecilscribbles @agothorn @nico-the-overlord @antonymziie @aaabatteryy loook.

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tinkrtailrsldrspy · 11 days ago

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Let's Get That Man Pregnant!

Okay. This is probably the toughest battle we've faced yet, people. Ford against Dean Winchester?? Guys. Dean just beat Kirk.

Do not underestimate the Supernatural fandom! Go vote now!

>The Poll<

(Also, there's been another month added to gestation!)

#gravity falls #ford pines #stanford pines #billford #pregnant ford pines #mpreg!ford #mpreg challenge #male pregnancy #mpreg #poll propaganda #this is gunna be my next multi-chap fic isn't it?#I was planning on just writing a blurb for month #but at this point #each month is gonna need its own chapter huh?#I will finish ADAD before I do more than write the first chap of this tho #like I've got a plot and shit #this is just not gonna be a quick turnaround #also I am working on ADAD I'm just not posting til I've finished the full thing

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thepenultimateword · 4 months ago

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Types of Confessions : Public Confession

CW: Murder

“I love you!”

For a moment, the entire street seemed to go quiet. Cameras whirred from behind blockades. Nervous feet scraped the asphalt as police shifted, attention briefly moving from Supervillain to the battered hero who had just thrust their way into the line of fire.

Supervillain could only stare, the edge of their knife pressed to the Director’s throat. Just a smidge more pressure, and he’d bleed like the pig he was.

But there was Hero, breathing hard, hair sweaty and ragged in their face, costume in tatters. Supervillain had sent several of the syndicate to hold onto them until this business was over, but apparently they didn’t compare to a legal power user when they really wanted something.

“Don’t do it,” Hero said, stumbling forward another step. They were bleeding through one leg of their leggings. “You do it, and every officer here shoots you down. Or they catch you and dissect your brain until they figure out what went wrong. Why you can still hurt people.”

Supervillain raised their brow. “And if I do stop? What? Mr. Director here forgets I ever threatened him?”

Hero took another step. “I made a deal. I-if you stop. We can leave. Together. They won’t stop you. You don’t have to be trapped in this city anymore. You don’t have hide.”

Supervillain could feel the director’s shoulders relax a little. He was confident that Supervillain would take this out. Exchange all his bitterness for a happy ending.

“This is my magnum opus,” Supervillain said. What I’ve built my career on. You want me to give it up?”

“I love you!”

“Why should that matter?”

Hero choked.

The director stiffened.

“This isn’t about me. This is about you. This is about us. And everyone this city exploits. And crushes. And pushes under the rug. This place is supposed to be some sort of powered utopia but it’s a scheme. And I like it better when I’m the one behind the curtain.”

“Please. Please I don’t want to lose you.”

Supervillain’s heart pounded. Hero’s words only now just soaking in. They didn’t make a difference. But they felt warm in their chest. Hopeful. Grateful. Regretful.

They might never get the chance to actually kiss them. To hold them. To go on a date with them. To tell—

They could do that part. They’d intended to never say it, but well…

“I love you too.”

“Supervillain…” Hero sounded pleading. They knew it wasn’t the sort of ‘I love you’ that expected longevity.

“We could always do both.”

“Supervillain, no wait— I don’t even know if I— This isn’t how—”

They gazed directly into Hero’s eyes. “Save me, my hero.”

Then they slit the director’s throat.

#so this was supposed to be jsut cutesy stuff #but then somehow this happened?#I’m imagining it’s a world #where all the powered individuals have been placed into one city #and they all are supposed to have implants or something that suppress their abilities #only those who are assigned as heroes can legally use their powers #but the system itself is very bad #supervillain somehow is able to surpass their implant without being a legal power user #their goal is to get rid of the director of this project who has been oppressing the city #and manipulating those who can legally use powers #but somehow the hero and the supervillain meet and fall in love #🥺#but anyway #yeah #hopefully my next few confessions will be more fluffy haha #February confession challenge #creative writing #writblr #love confessions #hero x villain #snippet #drabble

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