#i had to write it right now

[yapperingtinaa]

Crying in Sylus's arms when things get overwhelmingly bad, his heart aches at the sight of you struggling to stop the tears, your cries muffled against his broad chest.

Sylus's mind raced with anything he could think of to help you feel better - he'd thought of preparing the shooting range to let out all your frustrations or cook your favourite dishes or even coaxing you to go out to get some fresh air together.

But no, you didn't want any of that, with your arms wrapped tightly around his middle as you buried your tear-streaked face into his shoulder, your voice a pained whisper as he listened to your small plea -

"Stay, please." Your voice cracked slightly from all the crying, your body trembling from the intense emotions you were feeling as you slowly lifted your face to look up at him, your expression utterly distraught and exhausted. "I don't want anything else. Just you, please."

You didn't need to tell him twice as Sylus's arms instinctively pulled you closer to him, one hand moved up to cup your cheek as he gently wiped away the tears. "Shh. Its okay."

He pressed a soft kiss on your forehead before holding you firmer in his arms, the warmth of his body and his soothing reassurance made you melt against his hold. "Everything will be okay. I won't ever leave you alone."

A single tear rolled down your cheek as you closed your eyes, letting out a shaky sigh, you rested comfortably against him. His hand caressing your back to soothe you more, his calm voice echoing in your mind before the fatigue finally settled in as you fell asleep in his embrace.

"Rest, my beloved. I'll be here when you wake up."

[inkskinned]

these days when you close your eyes, what else do you want but to be loved in a warm and permanent way. the open soft hand, the lowered voice, the blanket around your shoulders. you want to be loved like hot chocolate, like spring flowers, like dawn. you want to go to sleep protected and wake up fully rested. you want the wounds in you to matter, you want someone who is patient around your scars.

how greedy. these days when you look around, how many little ways are you assaulted by the notion that it's wrong to need others. individualism! capitalism! bootstraps! every time you try to language it, you need to cover up your desire into a carefully-worded soundbite: of course no single person can fulfill every need and we must invest in communities and i must be responsible for my own mental health and

but the yawning in you doesn't understand logic or sound or reason. it only sees sundays, only sees what you do-not-have, only sees the look others share and that you so desire. sick with dread at it, sick at how it makes you want, how you yearn in no direction.

no matter how many people you take with you to bed, no matter how many hands touch the tattoo you share with your sibling, no matter how many times you kneel with your knees bleeding. always, the ache that never stops chewing, the desperate sick loneliness that never quite abates. it never stops humming, i need i need i need. you burn your inner child for warmth and scatter the ashes into your morning coffee.

so you shut up and you load your life like shotgun shells and you try to make yourself whole in the way that others are whole. you let your father's words spill out of your mouth. you make a quick joke rather than tear your heart open. you sing into the mic and go home with stars in your eyes. your life is beautiful and you're lucky! you have everything a person can need!

but it would be nice, is the thing. to have a love that feels like peace.

[da-janela-lateral]

It seems that 'popular', 'athletic' and 'bright blue eyes' aren't their only similarities.

[omnificent-orion]

Waiting for...

[learnelle]

My uni semester is done done done ! I received my good results, so I can finally exhale. My friends and I reread the Bell Jar and went to see the Dead Poet’s Society in theatre, and it was SO nice to think about something other than my uni assignments ☕️

[bi-writes]

Would you ever do like mob and Simon’s first date night together or something like that ( love your writing )

mail-order bride (18+)

the wine sits idle in the middle of the table. simon leans back against his chair, sighing deeply as he runs a big palm over his lower stomach, all pudgy and full from the meal you had placed on the table.

you had surprised him. candles on the table, his favorite red wine decanted into a crisp glass, beef short ribs falling apart over a plate of mashed potatoes. he had no time to scold you for cooking because you had been finished by the time he stepped through the door.

immaculate, sweet girl. the first bite of the food had him sucking on his teeth, biting back a moan. such a good meal, perfection in a pot, with creamy potatoes that had him licking the prongs of the fork as he watched you from across the table, eyes glazed over with love for feeding him better than he ever had been in his whole life. he had seconds, thirds, pawing at your skirt when you asked if he wanted more, his tongue sliding over the knife that he didn't even need to get any piece of sauce off the plate.

and then dessert. perfect little chocolate cakes in pretty little tins, with a cracked top. and when he broke the surface with his spoon, it was flooded with hot ganache, a gooey molten lava cake that he gave you heart eyes for as he ate it up with dramatic slurps.

fuck, he cannot stop looking at you. maybe you put poison in the food because you've never looked more beautiful than you do right now. you're sitting there, hair off your face, spoon in your mouth as you lick off the warm chocolate from it. that pretty pink tongue sliding over the edge of it, gathering that sweet center and swallowing, the bob of your throat making his breath catch as he follows it all the way to the low neckline of your dress. that sweetheart neckline makes your tits look so perky, so bouncy, and he can tell you aren't wearing a bra because he can see your nipples between the polka dot pattern.

"come 'ere," simon says lowly, dropping the spoon with a defiant clatter onto his plate. you smile, standing from your seat, and you bounce over to where he's sitting. simon sits you down on the table in front of him, shoving his plate far back to give you room. he picks up his glass of wine and chugs it practically, licking the last drop before setting down the glass and flipping you over with practiced ease.

you gasp as your hips hit the wood. you bend, barely having enough time to catch yourself with your hands before you hear his chair scrape against the floor. you can feel his size as he stands up and towers over you, and your toes curl when you hear the buckle of his belt.

"w-what--"

"'m not gonna fuck ya, baby," simon sighs, smoothing his hands up the back of your thighs before flipping your skirt up. he snorts when he sees you're wearing polka dot panties to match your little dress, and you squeak when he grips the flimsy fabric with one big hand and shreds it with ease, tossing it aside. "first time 's gonna be so nice, i promise..." he clicks his tongue, "but fuck, ya gotta let me, luvvie..."

"please," you gasp, sliding back a little, pressing your ass against the front of his jeans. you can feel the open zipper scratch against your cunt, and he sighs shakily. you hear the rustle of fabric, and you sob with relief when you feel the warmth of his cock slap against your ass. "oh, god--simon!"

"i know, luv," he groans, "i know...not ready for it, not yet..." he licks his lips, sliding your dress up further, exposing your lower back and the sweat that's gathered there. he grips himself at the base, swiping over his wet tip before using it to give himself a languid stroke. at the first sound of a squelch, you whine, and he squeezes your hip gently. "agggh--fuck--"

your back bows when he slides his cock between your thighs. he's so big. thick and wide, not as lengthy as you might have expected but god, he's got the girth of your fucking arm. he keeps your back arched as he grips your wrists and tugs, drawing you up until your neck leans back against his chest. he gives you a slow thrust, the tip of his cock catching on your clit as he rolls his hips just right.

"oh--simon--"

"can't wait," he mumbles, sliding a thick palm over your throat, mouthing against your ear. "fuck, i can't wait to 'ave ya...can't wait to devour this fuckin' pussy--"

"simon--" you cry, reaching up and gripping his hand around your throat, and you sob again when you feel the cold band of his wedding ring. mine, mine, mine, mine--

"wot's y'r fuckin' name, baby?" simon asks, rocking his hips. you shake every time he hits your clit, and with his tight grip, all you can do is stand there and take it as he fucks your thighs. his cock is moving so nice between your folds, stimulating every little part of you, and you aren't coherent enough to be ashamed of how wet you are, starting to soak his cock and contribute to the intense wet shlick that sounds from between your legs. "huh? tell me--"

"'m mrs. riley," you babble, sucking his fingers into your mouth as they move up your throat. your eyes flutter shut, your entire body going slack as he lets go of your wrist with his free hand and pulls your hips back against his.

"tha's right," simon grunts, "my pretty girl. my perfect little wife, cookin' so fucking good for me, takin' such good care o' me, fuck--" simon groans, "rock fuckin' hard ever since i walked through tha' fuckin' door, baby."

"mmm--!" you squeal, bracing yourself against the edge of the table as he cups your pussy with one hand and cums between your folds the next. with just a few warm strokes, you're spilling into his palm, jelly in his arms as he collapses into the seat behind him and cradles you in his lap. "mrs...mrs. riley..." you're babbling again, giggling all warm and lucid, and simon chuckles as he cups the back of your head, feeding you his wet fingers and cursing under his breath as he watches you lick the slick off his hand.

you pay special attention to his ring finger, tongue swirling around the gold band. when you let his finger go with a pop, your eyes flutter open, and they meet his.

yeah, he thinks. she's ready.

[stply]

antis: yeah i can agree it's wrong to generalize a group of people based on the actions of a few! that's the type of ideology that bigots use to justify their actions and it's just so horrible and wrong!

also antis the moment a single darkshipper is genuinely a bad person: wow this just proves my point about all "proshitters" being "pdf files"! "unalive" all "proshitters"!!! the only good "pdf" is an "unalived" "pdf"!!!! stop "normalizing" "🍇" you degenerates!!!!

[seokminfilm]

fast pace 🍒 choi seungcheol

🍒 pairing, choi seungcheol x reader

🍒 warnings, non-idol au, marriage au, husband/girl dad seungcheol, overprotective seungcheol, wholesome family interaction, seungcheol calls reader "sweetheart" once, suggestive at the end (if you squint)

🍒 summary, your daughter was just like seungcheol—so alike it drove you a bit insane.

🍒 author's note, trying not to tweak out right now (just wrote a whole seokmin fic (@realmofclouds' request) to accidentally delete it all and have tumblr save the now-empty post 🧍) so here's this seungcheol fic to try to salvage something for you guys 😭 trust me i'll write a BUNCH next week to make up for it (spring break week woop woop!) please enjoy girl dad cheol i know i enjoyed writing it SJKJDFSJK

🍒 now playing, fast pace (seventeen)

🍒 word count, 1k (1k exactly what the hell) | for @kstrucknet

when you got the call that you would have to go pick your four-year-old daughter up from her kindergarten class, seungcheol would not rest until you had allowed him to drive you there.

"i want to see what she got in trouble for myself." seungcheol had a streak when it came to his daughter, mi-cheol (she did have part of his name, after all). he could never seem to believe that his daughter would do no wrong, and even when you had told him that she had gotten in trouble, he had asked you "are you being serious?" about seven times before you had broken down and shown him the message.

and so, here you were, sitting in the kindergarten lobby as the two of you waited to retrieve mi-cheol.

seungcheol sat in the chair beside you, glancing down at his watch as he grumbled something under his breath. as a businessman (and a slightly overdramatic father), seungcheol loved when things were speedy, especially when concerning his oh-so-lovable daughter.

seungcheol tapped his dress shoe impatiently on the tile, long eyelashes brushing against his eyebrows as he glared at the constantly ticking clock. sensing his impatience, you place a soft hand on his arm, side-eyeing him as he sighs.

"please, cheol. patience." you sounded like you were talking to a disobedient child—and you were, in a way. seungcheol was just like mi-cheol in that aspect—they couldn't listen to someone for the life of them.

as soon as the thought of your doe-eyed, pouty-lipped baby girl crossed your mind, out she came, backpack in tow as she grinned at you.

"daddy!" mi-cheol runs right past you and immediately clings onto seungcheol's dress pants leg. the smile that breaks on seungcheol's stern features is only one mi-cheol can bring out, and he reaches down quickly, swiftly swooping the four-year-old in his arms as he gives you one last glance before heading to the car.

apologizing on mi-cheol's behalf and signing her out, you follow the two shortly, getting in the passenger's side of the car as you grab the tail end of seungcheol and mi-cheol's conversation.

"so, what did she do?" you ask, knowing good and well it may not be a good idea to hear the story from seungcheol. luckily, mi-cheol steps up to the plate herself, clearing her throat after taking a few sips from her juice cup.

"a boy called me cute, so i slapped him in the face." the sentence is simple, but so absurd at the same time that you can't help but burst into laughter.

seungcheol, on the other hand, is absolutely seething. his eyes are dark as soon as he hears the words 'boy' and 'cute', and you can see him jumping to all sorts of conclusions in his head. his grip on the steering wheel is tight, and he's blankly staring at the road, probably fighting back a profanity or two.

seungcheol was overprotective, everyone knew that—he held both you and mi-cheol to a very high standard, and therefore watched the two of you with a hawkeye. he never let boys near mi-cheol, and lord forbid a guy would try to hit on you—he would let them know their place, quickly too.

"a boy?" seungcheol asks softly (too softly for your liking), and you can see mi-cheol nodding from her booster seat, cup in hand as she lets out a little scoff. "i am not cute."

"oh, baby. you are cute—you just...you don't want a boy telling you that, do you?" you question, and mi-cheol nods, an overdramatic pout similar to her father's adorning her face.

"yeah. the only boy i want to call me cute is daddy." mi-cheol makes a sound that you think may be similar to 'yuck', although it doesn't sound like that in the slightest.

seungcheol’s hard exterior is broken by that sentence in an instant, and he’s smiling from ear to ear in the cutest way possible, nodding as he looks back at his daughter with nothing but pure fondness.

“good girl, mimi.” seungcheol encourages mi-cheol with a proud grin on his face, and you sigh, knowing this would happen—of course seungcheol would say nothing about how his daughter’s actions were wrong.

if anything, he was overjoyed that she realized the rules seungcheol had set in place before she was even born—”boys are a no-no.”

“seungcheol.” you whisper, glaring at him as he catches your gaze. reading the disapproval in your eyes, seungcheol bites back an eye roll before sighing, biting his full lips as he returns to the hard exterior mi-cheol had broken with her confession.

“mimi, sweet baby girl—you shouldn’t handle things like that with violence, okay?. if a boy calls you cute and you don’t like it, tell it to him. don’t let him get away with it, of course, but don’t slap or hit him, okay? will you remember that for daddy?” you can tell it pains seungcheol to give this speech to his sweet little mi-cheol, watching the way his thick eyebrows twitch when he says the words ‘boy’ and ‘cute’.

“okay, daddy. i’ll remember it.” mi-cheol holds a thumbs-up to seungcheol, and he nods, giving her a small smile as he pulls up at a red light. proud of your husband for holding back his overprotective nature, you kiss his ring finger, warm lips ghosting the cool metal wedding band on his finger.

it makes seungcheol chuckle lowly to himself, reveling in your love as he smiles at you, glancing back at his mini-me (who’s currently eating a bowl of cherries).

"you owe me for this, sweetheart." seungcheol whispers, voice laced with a low, suggestive tone as he studies your face darkly. chuckling, you throw your head back, letting it hit the headrest as your hands rest on seungcheol's forearm.

"name your price, cheol. i'll give it to you," you add teasingly, and with the look and smile seungcheol gives you at your words, you already have an idea of what that could possibly be.

[anna-scribbles]

chapter cards for thirteen: november - april

read on ao3

[burningcheese-merchant]

Worst artist in the BurningCheese community decides to get uppity (again), makes fankid collage/group photo in celebration of us all sharing a brain cell

Left to right:

Leftmost is @stories4eve 's (1)*

Little bro being a nuisance up north is @sunny-sourzii 's (2)

To their right, and to the immediate left of the middle one, is @estarletnova 's (3)

Middle Pepper Jack, aka the best and coolest and most adorable one, is my little guy

Pepper Jack immediately to the right of mine is @ewitsewwie 's (5)

And then next to that, furthest right, is @rawaso 's (6) I'm still extremely sorry for thinking yours looked too similar to mine. What a fucking blunder honestly. I need new glasses

Bonus panel featuring my little guy's sister, titled "I Got Really Tired At The End And Just Wanted To Scribble". There are suddenly six versions of Matar Paneer's brother, at least one of them not even being a boy(?), and she is extremely confused. Either somebody explains to her what's going on or she starts stabbing the other 5 with her katar because she thinks they're evil doppelgangers of some sort

If any of the artists tagged here want the individual doodles of their kiddies just let me know. I made sure to save them all before editing them together. I'll send them to your ask box(es) or something

*I'm sorry to Eve for changing your kid's look. I honestly could not make sense of his appearance no matter how hard I tried. The other ones were difficult enough for me as they were lol. I did this for my own sake. Mea culpa, mea maxima culpa

[etheries1015]

The moment Vil fell in love with you, was one of the most vulnerable moments he had ever experienced. It was something that had caught him completely unawares, and never thought he'd fall for someone, much less the prefect of ramshackle.

Spoilers for the end of book 6, if you have not gotten that far.

The ride back to NRC from the island of woe was an exhausting one, to say the least. Everyone was groaning in mild annoyance at Vils sobbing at his now olden state, a wrinkled face with sunken cheeks and grey hair...something he feared more than anything in the world. Nobody actually blamed him, though, for anybody else would react as strongly to see their youth stripped away without even the hint of getting back their original form. Ugly, old, and gross, are all words Vil would go on to describe himself. You felt pity for him of course, but you were just as exhausted as everyone else.

Vil watched you in surprise as you stood up in a sleepy haze, wobbling to the (now) old man and cupping his sunken cheeks into your lively hands.

"Vil," You said sternly, the suddenness of your actions causing him to bite back his sobs for merely a moment.

"What you did for us today," You said with confidence in your tired eyes, "Was the most heroic thing I have ever seen. That was the bravest, most selfless act you could have possibly done, and I truly admire you for it, Vil." Your stern eyes softened with a smile mixed with pity and admiration, unconciously stroking his cheek with your thumb in attempt to sooth his trembling figure.

"We will find a way to get your body back. I understand this is a lot, but you need to hold onto faith." Your hands squished his cheeks together in a teasing and playful manner, purposefully causing him unable to respond verbally. Vil simply nodded, and you continued with passion raising your tone of voice.

"Right now, in my eyes, you are the most beautiful person with the biggest heart of gold I've ever met." You leaned forward and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek, something that drew him back with widened eyes. "Now, you must be incredibly tired from all the fighting we did. Try and rest, okay? You need it." He wanted to tell himself you were simply feeding him words of comfort in order to cease his persistent whining, yet with such confidence dripping with every word and small gesture you had no reason for engaging in, that was how he knew you were genuine.

How could you be so willing to kiss him when he looks like...that? How can you call him beautiful when all he sees are wrinkled hands and spotty skin? The word "heroic" also stuck out to him. Years of being played the villain, always unable to make it to the end of a movie, being discarded as the "bad guy," yet here you were, calling him...your hero. His heart skipped a beat and he could feel heat rise to his cheeks. There's no way you of all people could make him feel so...conflicted.

Yet there you were, with stringy sweaty hair, scratches, bruises, mud riddling your skin from hours of fighting for the world. He noticed how his dorm outfit lay in tatters on your body, and bags under your eyes were apparent as you so shamelessly yawned and sat next to him, falling asleep as you leaned up against his shoulder. This was the brazen prefect of Ramshackle- someone with flaws, attitude, and a disastrous display.

Yet at this moment, all he could think about was just how beautiful you looked, too.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Lap Pillow

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[thekittyokat]

you ever just have a lot, a LOT of feelings all at once about a character and not even remotely enough words or brainpower to FORM the words to describe everything you're feeling. so it feels like you may explode. yeah

[inthehouseoffinwe]

The ships burn and Fingolfin hates.

…the ships keep burning and Fingolfin fears.

Mad cackling can almost be heard a continent away and he can’t figure out whose it is: Morgoth’s, or his brother’s.

In either case, he knows the people Fëanor has just taken to the other side, Fingolfin’s dear nephews most of all, are in great danger. He knows his brother. And he knows what happens to the people around him when his passion meets rage in a merciless, all-consuming flame.

No one deserves to be in that line of fire.

So when his children and remaining nephews and niece cry out their betrayal and curse their uncle and cousins, he turns a firm eye to them.

“If I’d commanded it, would you not have done the same?”

They begin to shake their heads, and he frowns.

“Do not lie to me, children.”

They turn away. Fingon’s relief at his father’s words breaks his heart, his eldest should know he cares deeply for Fëanor’s sons. Surely? Has he become so distant? Would any of them have confided in him earlier if he’d just opened his arms a little more-

No use in what ifs.

He turns back to the burning ships and sends a small prayer to whoever might still listen to keep his nephews safe. Fëanor is gone, mind shattered with his father’s death, and he’s dragging his children down with him to ash and blood and ruin. They just have to survive long enough for Fingolfin to arrive. He’ll talk sense into his brother, he’s the only one who can. He’ll get the children their father back and fix all of this, pride be damned.

The Helcaraxë is the only option. His nine children spit venom at their half uncle, but no longer complain of their cousins. A year following him into this hellscape, a year of leaving the weakest to the blizzards lest everyone freeze yet refusing to turn back, has shown them exactly what they’d have done were the positions reversed.

It’s a sobering thought. He wonders what he’s done to deserve such dogged loyalty.

Wonders when he started taking advantage of the same things he hated and admired most about his brother.

Time passes. He wakes one day to a coldness in his fëa and sends another desperate prayer. A bad feeling takes route that grows day by day, fear and a strange fire dancing in his periphery urging him and his people on.

Time is running out Nolofinwë.

Ice slowly gives way to solid rock, then slush, then grass and he arrives at Mithrim in relief, all but running to the fortress, only to see little Makalaurë greeting his host. Eyes hardened, crowned in silver, heavy shoulders draped in a frayed red cloak-

And he knows it’s far, far too late.

Agony and despair are hidden behind a stony mask that he sees right through but can no longer reach. His open arms greeted with caution. Watching. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. His kind words with narrowed eyes, all but daring pity, and Fingolfin could weep.

There’s no reconciliation that can prove his love, his understanding, now.

Fëanor is gone.

His children are being consumed in the blaze left behind.

…and Fingolfin doesn’t know how to fix this.

[jade-len]

please help i just had a dream where svsss was a dating sim. so, of course i tried pursuing shen qingqiu, but it ultimately backfired because suddenly he realized that he was in a dating visual novel?? and since i put myself as a guy, he just refused to show up to special in game events to avoid me interacting with him???

and obviously i was like "wtf why isn't he here?" when he didn't show up. then at some point i explored the area, and the screen suddenly zoomed in to show sqq talking to sqh (supposedly telling him all about the little situation). next thing i know, both of them are slowly turning their head to stare at the screen in pure and utter terror

also in some part of the dream, i think i did some liu qingge events or something and as his affection levels rose, he would continuously jump scare me by popping up out of nowhere and go, "its not like i like you or anything!!" while covered in blood and holding out a demonic beast head as if it were a box of treats

anyways, totally random question guys haha if i made an svsss visual novel dating sim would you guys play it. no reason in particular at all.

[birroww]

consequences finally takes him

Im pretty proud of these.

Local news, a hit and run. Culprit not found yet.

He’s running away!

Part1 (monster truck Hyrule) and part 2 (Four train time),

Part 3 (Hyrule car crash) and Part 4 (The chain)

Part 5(tricycle Time) and Part7court

he got caught, he won’t be getting himself out of this one…

WAIT HYRULE; WHAT?!?! TOOK OVER THE CAR!

Tbh, I don’t know what I expected of him..

They are watching the police chaice live on the news

he needs a lawer

Idk anything about law tbh