#i’d write a fic on this but i don’t have the knowledge

[bakubunny]

everyone seems to be in agreement on stoner sero, but what about skater boy sero?

like i don’t think y’all even need to hear me out on that one. he’s one of those guys who uses his board as a primary means of transportation across the college campus just like he used to in high school. he still goes to skate parks in his free time, and he’s the first person to introduce himself to someone new. everyone knows and loves him.

what do we think? @neon-gothicc @dcsiremc

[ellecdc]

Dude, I read the one where you talked about pregnant reader and you said it'll be a cute fic.... are you really gonna write it!!? Poly moonwater with pregnant reader!?? Will you? Will you? Will you!!?? Please, will you!!!!!???

well.....since you asked so nicely........👀

poly!moonwater x afab fem!reader who finds out she's expecting

CW: mentions of pregnancy, how people get pregnant (nothing discussed in detail, SFW and minors), reader is concerned the boys will leave her, reader wishes to keep the pregnancy, based off a discussion on this post.

Now that you knew, you weren’t sure how you could honestly feel surprised. In fact, now you were kind of surprised that it hadn’t happened sooner. 

For all the claims that wizardingkind makes to be ahead of the curve in comparison to muggles, they don’t exactly have the best contraceptives. 

Potions are fine if you remember to take them, the same can be said about charms, and condoms are a foreign concept to the likes of wizarding society.

You’d been feeling so incredibly exhausted lately, and it had gotten to the point that you couldn’t make it through the day without having at least one nap. It was when you’d actually fallen asleep at the dinner table that Regulus started to fret, though Remus found it terribly funny at the time. 

Then came the aches and pains that never seemed to dull no matter what you did. You’d tried potions, over the counter muggle medications, hot baths, cold showers, lying flat, sitting up – nothing stopped the aches that seemed intent on plaguing you. Remus had even given you full body massages that, whilst absolutely heavenly, did absolutely fuck all. 

“Maybe you’re coming down with something?” He’d queried, holding the back of his hand to your head. “Reg? Can you bring me the thermometer?”

You swore you heard whatever Regulus had been fussing with in the kitchen fall unceremoniously onto the counter in his haste to come over to you.

“Why? Is she poorly?” He asked severely, placing the back of his hand against your head like Remus had, only far more aggressively and to the point that it actually made a slapping sound as it made contact.

“Och, babe! If she wasn’t poorly yet she’ll surely have a concussion now!” Remus chided, pushing Regulus’ hand away and cradling your head protectively to his chest.

Needless to say, the thermometer didn’t pick up a fever either. 

So, when you woke up the next morning and spent most of the day hunched over the toilet bowl, Reg insisted you see a Healer.

Once the Healer started to ask the more...pointed questions, the pieces all started to click together in your mind.

Are you sexually active? Yes.

When was your last menstrual cycle? They weren’t exactly regular so... you supposed it had been late.

Any nausea? Yes.

Fatigue. Uh-huh.

Body or muscle pain? Fuckin’ hells.

So now you were standing outside of yours, Remus', and Regulus’ shared flat with a copy of your test results in your hand wondering what in the buggering fuck you were going to do now.

Both Regulus and Remus were pretty set on not wanting children of their own. They loved children, and they were both really good with children (in their own, very different ways); but with Regulus’ past, his family's reputation, and “the sodding inbreeding, amour; I’d be surprised if it didn’t come out with everything upside down and backwards”, he was sure that it’d be better for everyone if he stayed childless.

And Remus.

Poor, sweet Remus.

Too ashamed of his own affliction to a) pass it onto his own biological child or b) force any child to live with the knowledge that they had a ‘monster’ for a father.

And that was that.

Children just wasn’t in the cards for you three.

Yet here you were...

Suddenly, you weren’t just worried; you were terrified.

They didn’t want this, they never wanted this. They had always been clear about that. They could have been more careful to prevent this, but here you were.

Here you were.

There you stood; outside of your shared flat, unable to bring yourself to open the door.

They were going to leave you; they’d leave you, surely. Yeah?

They didn’t want this.

They wouldn’t want you. 

Fuck.

“For the love of Circe, I’m jus- Salazar’s saggy balls, Y/N!” Regulus said as he stumbled in the doorway, startled after having been in the middle of shouting something over his shoulder only to nearly collide with you. “How long have you been standing out here?”

You stared dumbly at him; you weren’t ready to go inside. You weren’t ready to have this conversation.

Too bad.

“Not long?” You stated in the form of a question. He furrowed his brows and looked you up and down before offering you his hand up the two steps to your doorway. 

“I was just opening the doors and windows; you’re lovely boyfriend tried to make us dinner.” He explained with a fond eyeroll, stepping into the flat and squinting through the smoke flooding the living space.

“Yeah, yeah. Last time I try something new in the kitchen.” Remus muttered as he threw away an entire baking dish.

“What was it supposed to be again, sweetheart?” Regulus asked with a mischievous smirk you knew he picked up from spending too much time with Remus, Sirius, and James.

“Just never you mind, you tosser. Hi dove.” He muttered to Regulus, though his tone changed dramatically once he turned to you, his eyes softening as he took in your form.

“How was your appointment?”

Your appointment? Your appointment. The appointment you just had. The appointment where you found out. The appointment where you were told you were pregnant. That appointment. The appointment you were still holding the slip for. The slip with your results. The slip with your pregnancy test results. The slip with your positive pregnancy test results.

That appointment.

“I-”

And you took off to the bathroom, slammed the door behind you and heaved into the toilet. 

There was a gentle knock on the door as you sat back against the tub with your knees to your chest, trying to catch your breath. “Dove?”

Another knock.

“Okay, we’re coming in.” Came Regulus’ more authoritarian voice through the door before it slowly opened to allow both of them entrance.

Remus had to fold himself a number of times in order to sit on the bathroom floor beside you whilst Reg flushed the toilet (while you flushed in embarrassment) and closed the lid to sit on it, facing you and Remus. 

“Did you get any answers from the healer?” Regulus asked quietly.

You smothered a humourless scoff and nodded your head in the affirmative. 

The boys let you sit there with your head laid back onto the edge of the tub and your eyes closed before Regulus couldn’t seem to handle it anymore.

“And? Are you... okay?”

You took in a deep breath and pulled that paper - now crumpled within your fist - cast a gemino duplication spell on it and handed one to each boy. 

You curled yourself inward and rested your forehead on your knees, reminding yourself to breathe even though you knew these two men now knew that you were expecting, that you were expecting their child. 

It could have been moments, or it could have been hours; but it was Remus who broke the silence.

“Pregnant?” He whispered on an exhale.

You cautiously raised your head to look over at him by your side, noticing that his eyes were shining with unshed tears.

You brought him to tears.

He never wanted this.

He wouldn’t want you.

“You’re really pregnant?” He asked again.

You nodded and swallowed around your gag reflex; unsure whether the nausea was nerves or...pregnancy related.

“You’re...” Reg started, still looking down at the paper in his hands. “You’re... gonna have a baby?” He whispered in awe.

You felt your brows furrow when you heard an emotional chuckle from beside you.

You turned back to see Remus wiping tears away from his eyes as he looked back down at his own paper in front of him.

“We’re gonna have a baby?” Remus corrected, nudging Regulus’ calf with his foot.

“Wait, you... you guys aren’t upset?” You asked urgently. Both boys snapped to attention to look at you in various degrees of worry or horror.

“Upset!?” Remus gawked as Regulus started shaking his head emphatically.

“Why? Why would you be worried of such a thing?”

You shook your own head and looked down at your hands as you began picking at your nailbeds. “Neither of you were ever interested in having kids of your own.” 

“Oh, dovey.” Remus cooed and quickly pulled you into his side. “When was the last time we talked about this, huh? When we first graduated Hogwarts? I think we could manage a kid now, yeah?”

“Or four.” Regulus added, causing you and Remus to straighten up significantly.

“Four!?” You and Remus chorused.

“Since when did you want kids?” You questioned incredulously.

“The moment I saw you hold Harry for the first time.” He answered without hesitation. 

“Ha ha.” Remus taunted. “Mine was watching her shop for Lily’s baby shower.” 

“What!?” You nearly screeched.

Regulus sighed before ultimately moving to sit on the floor on your other side; you knew this was very serious considering he was a notorious germ freak. 

“I was always a little afraid of having kids of my own, you’re right. I mean, you’ve seen the way that Sirius and I turned out, yeah?”

You and Remus scoffed at that.

“I just hated the idea of ever being anything like my parents, because that’s all I know. Or I guess, that was all I knew. But... I think you guys have taught me an awful lot.”

You watched Regulus’ stormy grey eyes as they moved between you and Remus. “You’ve both taught me to slow down, to be more patient, to see the fun in the mess and the burnt food and the change of plans. You’ve taught me that I won’t perish if I sit on the bathroom floor for a minute. And, I think most importantly, you’ve taught me how to love. And when I see how happy Harry is, I realize that’s all a kid really needs, yeah? Love?”

“You... you really want a child? This child?” You asked in a whisper.

Regulus’s face turned heartbroken for a moment. “You’re child? Absolutely, amour. There was never any doubt.”

“I always thought I’d pass on only the worst parts of me to any child.” Remus added, turning your attention to him. “But I find I’m only ever my best self when I’m around the two of you. And any child that’s even a fraction of either of you, well, I’d be one... one lucky man to call them mine.” He whimpered the end of his sentence before breaking out into a sob.

“Oh, Rem.” You murmured empathetically, pulling his larger frame into your side. He chuckled through happy tears as he moved one of his hands tentatively to your abdomen.

“A baby...” Regulus breathed, looking back at the paper in his hands. “We’re really going to have a baby?”

You and Remus exchanged a shy glance, understanding seeming to pass between the two of you before you both turned back to Regulus.

“We’re going to have a baby.” You concurred. 

[reiding-writing]

could i please request spencer reid comforting reader whos been picking at her lips? Like idk maybe he brings around chapstick for her smth. Tysm!

dermatillomania [ s.r ]

Summary:

Spencer doesn’t want you to hurt yourself. Even unintentionally. So a lot little bit of research later he’s ready to confront you about it.

WARNINGS: dermatillomania (impulsive picking at the skin), mentions of very minor self induced harm, sharing germs??? spencer would be deterred by that i’m sure, well maybe not in this case

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

genre: pretty much straight fluff

wc: 1.5k

masterlist!!

a/n: this marks the my final fic of 2023, currently uploading at 10 past 11 pm so like less than an hour until 2024 (yay??)

i love writing for reid because it allows me to satisfy that nerdy part of my brain that endlessly thirsts for knowledge

Everyone had subconscious habits.

Yours just happened to be more physically harming than some.

You found comfort in the monotonous repetition of peeling away the layers of skin covering your lips, whether it be with your fingernails or your teeth.

It would often leave your skin red and raw, sometimes to the point where they cracked or bled.

It wasn’t usually too bad, but during times where you were over-stressed and under pressure, the small habit of yours became more of a staple of your personality.

You sigh softly as you sit at your desk, head resting in your hands as your eyes pour over the file in front of you.

Paperwork wasn’t exactly stressful when you compare it to the rest of your job, but after the week you’d just returned from it was clear that you needed a break.

Spencer glances up at you from his own desk opposite you, a small frown present on his face.

“Stop that,” His tone is soft and unchastising.

"Hm?" Your eyes flicker upwards towards his, your eyebrows knitted into a small line of clear confusion.

“Your lips. You’re going to scar yourself if you keep pulling at them like that.” Spencer’s words come out even softer than before, a small look of worry in his eyes.

"Oh-"

You pull you hands down from your face, the thumb and forefinger of your left hand that had been tugging at the cracked skin of your lower lip now tucked securely in your right as you clasp them together in your lap in fumbled embarrassment. "Sorry.."

Spencer sighs softly, and takes a brief moment to observe you. The corners of his mouth twitch downwards into a slight frown.“Don’t apologize. I just… I’d hate for you to have permanent scarring.”

You hum softly in response to his caring nature, not meeting his eyes anymore out of the small amount of shame that trickles into the back of your mind, and your tongue runs smoothly over the raw skin on your lip in an attempt at soothing the sting. "Yeah.. thanks,"

Spencer looks away for a few seconds, thinking about your actions. After a beat, he leans over his desk slightly to grab a tube of chapstick from his desk drawer and holds it out to you over the small metal hatched wall of separation between your two desks.

It’s dark blue with no writing or labelling of any kind on it and has very clearly been previously opened.

“Take care of your lips, okay? They’re very important for human expression, phonation, and sensation.”

And to be able to kiss people with.

You hesitate to take the tube from him at first, not because he’d used it, but because it was his, and you knew how much he hated sharing his personal belongings for fear of germ contamination.

“Are you- sure you want to give me this? I can go and get one after work-“ You take the tube from his hand carefully, as though it might explode if you grip it too tightly.

Spencer is slightly relieved to see you take the chapstick, and smiles brightly at you before shaking his head. “It’s fine. You clearly need some form of relief, and I doubt you want to be waiting another six hours.”

He pauses, before adding, “I’d like you to keep it. It’s pure white petroleum, it should solve any soreness or dryness in no time,”

"Thank you.." You give Spencer a grateful smile as you remove the cap and twist the bottom of the tube to extend the chapstick upwards.

You choose not to acknowledge the small dip in the balm from where Spencer had used it on his own lips in the past, fearing the inevitable flush of your cheeks if you thought about the way you were indirectly touching your lips to his for too long.

"I’m- not sure why i can’t just stop, but.. yeah- thanks.." Your half-assed explanation is more of a way for you to distract yourself from your impending emotional implosion rather than a genuine want to explain yourself.

Spencer watches you apply the chapstick, nodding once as he does. “I have some advice on how to stop, if you’d like to hear it.”

You re-cap the tube of chapstick and place it next to the pencil holder on your desk for easy later access, exhaling softly through your nose as your mouth bends into a soft smile. "Alright, have at me,"

“First things first, you should try and figure out what’s causing you to want to peel at your skin.” Spencer dives into full explanation mode once you give him the chair. “Everything has a trigger, and figuring out what yours is is the first step to stopping it,”

You give a understanding nod to Spencer’s suggestion, your mind beginning to scrub your brain for and reasons why you might have the insatiable urge to pull the skin off your lips like you would the meat from a turkey.

“You should also redirect the behaviour. When feeling the urge or the subconscious action towards picking at your skin you should instead reapply a layer of chapstick to your lips instead,” Spencer gestures towards the tube on your desk, just barely visible from his point of view past your pencil holder.

“People with dermatillomania often times don’t realise that they’re engaging in the behaviour, so having somebody who is aware of the situation to redirect your attention is also a good idea.”

He’s obviously referring to himself in this moment, indirectly telling you that he’s willing to be stuck to you like a piece of gum under a shoe until you fully manage to break your habit.

"dermatillomania?" You blink your eyes blankly at him at the unnecessarily complicated term you’d never heard of that Spencer had casually thrown into his sentence.

“It’s the term for excessive skin-picking that causes damage or scarring. That’s what you were doing to your lips just now.” Spencer nods nonchalantly at you like it was common knowledge.

“Oh-“

You can’t say you’re surprised that there’s a term for what you’re experiencing.

You also can’t say that you’re surprised that Spencer knows what it’s called.

Spencer feels the need to explain himself upon your confusion and surprise at the revelation that what you were doing had a proper medical diagnosis.

“I’ve observed you for a while now, and noticed you often picking at your lips.. So I did some research and came across dermatillomania.” There is a tiny bit of embarrassment in his tone.

"You- looked it up for me?"

Spencer Reid had gone out of his way to research something that gave him no personal benefit solely for your wellbeing.

You swear you could melt.

You probably look like you do, physically feeling the pink rise to your cheeks as they heat up in flustered gratitude.

Spencer’s cheeks mirror your own in their soft pink hue, slightly embarrassed to have outed himself to going out of his way to research something on your behalf.

“I did, yes.” He pauses. “I just… well, I didn’t want you to unintentionally do any damage to yourself.”

You let out a soft exhale that could almost constitute as a laugh, pressing your lips together to prevent a smile from breaking out on your face. “Thank you Spencer.. That’s really sweet,”

Spencer nods, diverting his eyes from yours and leaning back in his desk chair to try and look as casual as possible. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve researched countless topics to help the team, this was just one of them.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie. But he wasn’t going to tell you that instead of the usual half an hour he would spend learning about something for one of his team mates he’d instead read every single publicly available medical journal on dermatillomania he could possibly find.

He turns his face back down to his work as you do the same, pushing his desk drawer closed now that nothing inside it was any longer needed.

His eyes fixed on the blue tube that rolled to his the front of the drawer as he pushed it closed.

It was identical to the one he had given you in every way.

Except for the fact that the one in his drawer was still brand new.

But you didn’t need to know that.

[nyrandrea]

You have very good writing and I think you really do comfort fics well! So I was wondering if you could write a fic with Astarion where the Tav he is trying to seduce has like major self esteem issues. Like they kind laugh at his attempts to compliment them. But at first it seems like a joke until he realizes that Tav isn't joking about it and he tries to help them see they are beautiful. (this is one of my fav prompts to give people ngl)

Thank you so much! This is a lovely prompt and I hope I did it some justice! :)

Word Count - 2k

Enjoy!

xxx

As the storm clouds gathered ominously on the horizon, you and your party found yourselves on a desolate, rain-soaked road in the middle of nowhere. The relentless downpour had turned the earth into a sea of mud, and the wind howled like a vengeful spirit. 

Your clothes were soaked through, and faces were etched with exhaustion and desperation. With each step, your boots sank into the muck, making the journey even more arduous. Thunder rumbled in the distance, a menacing reminder that you had to find shelter soon. 

“Ugh, there’s probably some saying about rainbows after the storm and whatnot,” Astarion said, holding a rucksack over his head in a failing attempt to save his hair. “But I’d much rather not be out in the middle of one.” 

“Ah, it’s not so bad, just think of it as a long overdue shower,” Gale said. “And the saying is ‘Don’t fear the storm, for the rainbow is never far behind!’” 

“Oh yes, that’s the one,” the vampire drawled.  “I’ll rest so much better now that you have enlightened me.” 

Amid the pelting rain, you spotted a faint glimmer of light in the distance. With newfound hope, you quickened your pace and beckoned the others to follow. As you trudged closer, the light revealed itself to be a cozy inn, nestled among ancient trees that shielded it from the worst of the storm. 

“Thank the Gods,” Karlach breathed. “If I got any more drenched, my engine would have snuffed out.” 

“Wouldn’t that solve your problem, then?” Lae’zel snidely chimed in, only to hiss when you elbowed her. 

The inn's windows emitted a warm, inviting glow, and the scent of wood smoke and hearty meals wafted through the air. Your tired body yearned for a meal and a warm bed, mindflayer tadpoles be damned. 

“Have we got enough gold to stay here? I mean, for everyone to have a room?” Shadowheart asked. 

“We should do,” you said, pulling out the team’s shared coin pouch. “I sold that egg we uh... found.” 

“You mean the one we stole after we killed its mother?” Wyll asked, clear disdain lacing his voice. 

“It’s not technically stealing if the target is dead,” Astarion cheerfully chimed in. “Besides, we rescued the other one, didn’t we? One good turn deserves another.” 

Wyll grimaced. “Your idea of virtue is a damn twisted one.” 

“Aw, you love me really,” the vampire teased back. 

“Here we are!” you announced as you reached the inn's doorstep, you were greeted by the innkeeper, whose eyes twinkled with the knowledge that you had nowhere else to go for the night. After taking payment, he ushers you inside, where a crackling fireplace cast a comforting light over the room, he takes your belongings up to your rooms with the help of Wyll and a begrudging Astarion. 

Finding a long wooden table in the corner of the room, the group sat together, their spirits lifted by the fact that they were safe from the fury of the storm outside, at least for one night. The innkeeper, his apron stained with years of hospitality, served you a hearty meal of roasted meats, fresh bread, and stew. 

You listened to the rain's rhythmic drumming on the inn's thatched roof, feeling a deep sense of gratitude for having found refuge in this little hidden haven. With a deep, contended sigh, you tucked into your meal, savouring every bite.

At least, you were trying to. 

“You better eat up,” Astarion teased, lacing his fingers together as he rested his chin upon them to watch you. “Because I plan on doing just that very soon.” 

“Crap,” you mumbled between mouthfuls. “Are you hungry? Why didn’t you say so?” 

“Oh, am I hungry,” he smirked. “Just not for blood.” 

You almost choked, but you masked it well with a nervous chuckle. He wasn’t... flirting with you, was he? You had always been bad at picking up signals, not that you received them often. 

‘Nah,’ you thought. He couldn’t be, not when there were so many other better-looking people, at this table alone, that he could choose from. 

“Well, I know you’re not craving my charming banter.” 

“Oh no, something far better.” 

Now you really were at a loss. 

“Do you... need to borrow my hair comb again?” 

“I mean sex, darling.” 

This time you couldn’t hide the choke, but you were more afraid of dying from embarrassment than anything else. 

“What?” 

The deafening silence that had befallen the table was broken by a low whistle from Karlach. 

“The direct approach, I can respect that, mate.” 

“Direct? I’ve been trying to drop hints for weeks now but perhaps a little more serenading is needed,” he looked you up and down with a knowing smile; he had hooked you, now it was time to reel you in. 

“Darling,” Astarion began softly, his voice a gentle caress, “when I look into your eyes, I see galaxies of beauty and depth that defy description. It’s as if the universe itself painted them with the colours of a thousand sunsets.” 

A faint blush tinged your cheeks as you lowered your eyes, unsure of where to look. Astarion reached out and gently lifted your chin, so your eyes met once more. 

“And your smile,” he continued, “it’s like a radiant sunbeam on even the cloudiest day. It has the power to brighten my world in an instant.” 

“Ooh, that’s a good one,” Karlach said, fanning herself. “You’re even making me blush!” 

“Careful, we wouldn’t want you burning any hotter now,” Gale smiled, though it was strained. He looked almost as uncomfortable as you felt. 

“Your kindness,” Astarion went on, “it knows no bounds. You have a heart that’s more expansive than the ocean, and it’s a privilege to be the one you’ve chosen to share it with.” 

“Bah!” Lae’zel practically spat. “These nonsensical attempts at beguiling are a waste of time, why waste your energy talking when you can claim and dominate each other instead?” 

You were hard-pressed to agree with Lae’zel on this one. Well, except maybe for that last part. 

“Alright, you can stop now,” you said. 

“Not until you’re convinced,” Astarion replied, a sly smirk forming on his lips. “How about this? You are a masterpiece in a world of art,” The vampire flamboyantly declared, his gaze unwavering. “Your uniqueness, your quirks, your imperfections – they all make you the incredible person I fell in love with. You’re not just enough; you’re more than I ever dreamed of.” 

You roll your eyes. “Gods, you know you don’t have to keep practising the fancy fake flattery on me, right? I know it’s all like a big joke to you but enough is enough, eh?” 

Astarion finally pulls back and frowns at you, not in that puppy-pout way when he didn’t get what he wanted, but in a way that he looked genuinely offended. 

“You think I’m joking?” 

“I... uh,” you stutter, suddenly flustered.  

“My compliments aren’t fake, darling. Decorative, perhaps, but you do know I mean every word, don’t you?” 

“Pfft,” you try to wave him off nonchalantly, but your quivering voice betrays you. “No, you don’t. It’s... it’s all just a bit of fun, r-right?” 

“Perhaps I should be a bit blunter then,” Astarion said, leaning forward ever so slightly, his expression serious and scarlet eyes piercing into you. “You’re... beautiful.” 

You swear you could feel something just break inside you in that moment.

A tentative smile, like a fragile flower pushing through the cracks of self-doubt, graced your lips, but it wilted in the harsh light of scrutiny. A tight knot formed within your throat as everyone stared at you in anticipation. What were you supposed to say? Thank you? That you were grateful for the shower of compliments from Astarion, this... gorgeous man, because you sure as hell didn’t deserve them? 

“I’m a little tired,” you suddenly say, your chair scraping the floor with a shrill screech as you quickly stand up. “Excuse me.” 

Leaving their concerned calls behind you, you made your way up the stairs of the tavern and into the hallway leading to the rooms. The innkeeper had allocated them, but he’d neglected to say which one was which, so you merely picked the first door you could get your hands on. 

It wasn’t until you slammed the door shut and leaned your back against it that you realised that you picked the wrong bloody one. 

The room was large and luxurious, the centrepiece was an ornate, four-poster bed adorned with rich, crimson drapes that seemed to dance with the flickering candlelight and crisp, white linens, neatly turned down. An old, familiar skull-faced tome laid face up, its amethyst eyes staring ominously at the ceiling. 

It seemed that someone got first dibs on the rooms, and it didn’t take a genius to work out who. 

‘Shit,’ you curse to yourself, scrambling for the doorknob. ‘Maybe I can get out before he-’ 

As soon as you open the door, Astarion is already right there, his hand raised into a fist. 

“Knock-knock?” he says, giving you a tentative smile. 

“S-sorry, must have gotten a little mixed-up.” 

“That’s quite alright, dear,” his tone is too soft for your liking, as if he feared offending you in any way. 

“Right, well,” you strain a smile and edge around him to get to the hallway. “Goodnight.” 

“Wait,” he catches you by the arm. “Come back in, won’t you?” 

You squint at him suspiciously. 

“To talk, darling. Nothing else, not if you don’t want to.” 

Gods know that you wanted to, you were just... surprised that he did. 

As you re-enter the room, you notice a small, antique writing desk nestled by a leaded glass window. A vase of freshly picked wildflowers graced the wooden surface, infusing the room with their sweet fragrance. 

Astarion caught your stare. “Ah, unfortunately I have run out of perfume to mask my er... musk. So, I had to improvise.” 

“It’s nice,” you remark, the tight knot in your throat making it hard to speak. 

“Well, I should hope so. They are your favourite after all, are they not?” 

A surge of guilt jabbed through your chest, you had occasionally stopped on the road to admire the flowers; their colours, their scent was intoxicating to you. Had he been observing you even back then? 

You didn’t know what to say, words were always tempered by hesitation, their resonance dulled by the fear of judgment. Each sentence was punctuated by apologies, as if you believed your very existence owed the world an explanation. Confidence always remained just beyond your reach, an oasis in the desert of your own mind. 

Astarion sat on the bed and patted the empty spot next to him; you silently took the invitation. 

“I would like to... apologise for earlier. Making you uncomfortable was never my intent, I...” he paused, his eyes flickering over you. “I just wasn’t sure how much clearer I could make it to you.” 

“That you... like me?” 

“Like you?” Astarion took your hands and squeezed them. “I adore you. Everything about you, all that you do is... nothing short of breathtaking.” 

Tears welled in your eyes and spilled over your cheeks like the gentlest rain, your trembling shoulders burdened by the weight of your emotions 

“I’m sorry if you don’t hear this enough but... I wish to change that. You really are, truly, beautiful.” 

The tears flowed freely then, your sobs echoing in the stillness of the night. Astarion gathered you in his arms, a silent pillar of support. His hand, cool and reassuring, gently cradled your trembling one, his thumb grazing back and forth over your knuckles. 

“It’s okay,” he whispered, his words a gentle caress. “Let it out, darling.” 

Astarion’s presence felt like a sanctuary, a safe haven in the storm of emotions. He didn’t offer empty platitudes or rushed advice. Instead, he listened, letting you pour your bottled emotions out, allowing it to find solace in his quiet understanding. 

With each tear that fell, Astarion’s touch remained steady, unwavering. 

As the night wore on, you found yourself nestled into his side as you lay together on top of the covers, your head tucked into his shoulder while he stared up at the ceiling. He turns his head briefly to kiss your forehead, and in that sacred space, amid the tears and whispered sorrows, you found solace, strength, and perhaps the willingness to accept that, in your own way, you are beautiful. 

xxx

Links to my other Astarion works

Everything's Fine

Restless

Request - Astarion kills everyone in his path to get to you

Request - Astarion tries to rescue you from kidnappers

[artistmarchalius]

Cockney Rhyming Slang! ✨

I’ve seen a good amount of rhyming slang from Hobie in fics and I love to see it! I love language and slang; I find the origins and usage of words fascinating, so I thought I’d make a little post about it to offer up some knowledge, tips and suggestions that I hope will be helpful or interesting to both those currently incorporating it in fics, as well as to those who want to use it but might not know where to start. Or even to those who don’t write but want to know!

So here we go!

First, a very brief history!

Cockney rhyming slang originated from the East End of London in the early 19th century. It was originally used by Cockneys so they could speak in front of the police without being understood and was very handy if you had some dodgy dealings going on. It has since passed into common language and is no longer restricted to use by Cockneys.

So you can see why it would make sense for Hobie to know a lot of it if he’s running around rebelling against a corrupt government run by supervillains!

How does it work?

Cockney rhyming slang works by taking a word and using a rhyming phrase of about two to three words to replace it. For example: “Daisy roots” means “boots” and “Ones and twos” means “shoes”.

There can be multiple phrases used for the same word, for example: both “Trouble and strife” and “Duchess of Fife” mean “wife”.

A Cockney rhyming slang tip:

A little shortcut to make your Cockney rhyming slang more authentic to a day to day Brit is to only use the first word in the phrase. For example:

If I wanted to write “Use your head”, I could write “Use your loaf of bread” and that would be accurate, but it would be even more accurate to just say “Use your loaf”.

Another example:

“I haven’t got a clue”, which if you’ve seen Across the Spider-Verse, you would know is “I haven’t got a Scooby Doo”, is commonly shortened to “I haven’t got a Scooby”. This actually threw me off when I saw it in the cinema and I never knew why until I learned about the “first word rule” in an East End documentary the other night 😂

Other examples:

Bread and honey = money. “I don’t have enough bread for that.”

Rabbit and pork = talk. “He don’t half rabbit on”. Chas and Dave wrote a song called Rabbit, which is a bit casually rude towards women as many things from the 80’s can be, but it did give us the line “You’ve got more rabbit than Sainsbury’s“ which I find quite funny.

Butchers hook = look. “Let’s take a butchers at that”

Donkeys ears = years. “I haven’t seen you in donkeys!”

I believe that back in the day, only using the first word of the phrase was an added level of secrecy to keep the police from knowing what you were talking about since it took away the rhyming portion of the phrase which the police might have been able to guess the meaning of. Only those who knew the rest of the phrase would know what the other was talking about. It has since become a more common practice to the point where many people don’t even realise they’re doing it (as I did until recently).

However, it is still perfectly acceptable to use the full phrase. For example, I’ve called someone on the old “dog and bone” (phone) and I’ve heard the stairs be called “apples and pears” but not really just “apples”.

Other examples:

Donkeys ears = years. “I haven’t seen you in donkeys!” as mentioned above. It’s also commonly mistaken for Donkeys Years. “I haven’t seen you in donkeys years”. Although technically it isn’t the full phrase, I’d say this still counts.

Shortening and adaptations:

Over time, some of the phrases have been shortened and adapted to form new slang. For example:

Bottle and stopper = copper (police). I’ve seen a lot of use of bottle and stopper in fanfics and that’s perfectly acceptable. However, the phrase is more commonly shortened to “Bottle” or adapted to “Bluebottle” or “Mr Bluebottle” due to the colour of their uniforms. Also, “bluebottle mob” can be used to mean the police force.

Another example of shortened and adapted Cockney rhyming slang is:

“Pork pies” = lies. More commonly shortened to “Porkies”. E.g. “she’s telling porkies.”

Here are some other slang words that have their origins in Cockney pronunciation:

Wotcher - an informal greeting originating from the Cockney contraction of “what cheer” (basically meaning “hello” or “what’s up?”). E.g. “Wotcher.”

Bruv/Bruvver - brother. Used the same way one would say “bro”. Bruvver is a cockney pronunciation of “brother” which has been shorted to the more commonly used “bruv”. E.g. “Good to see ya, bruv!”

And there you go, some quick knowledge about Cockney rhyming slang! I don’t claim to be an expert on the topic, a true Cockney would know far more than I do, but I thought I’d throw my hat into the ring and share the knowledge I do have in the hopes that it will help or entertain someone.

I’ll make another post going into police specific slang terms since that seems to be something that is intrinsically tied to the Spiderman experience, as well as Hobie’s, even more so as an anarchist arachnid, fascist punching punk rebel.

I might also make another post about general British slang words. Let me know if that’s something you’d be interested in or if there’s a specific area that you’d like to know about!

[littledollll]

hiiii <3

hope you are well!

i am here to beg for more lucifer x reader smut... would love to see restraints, praise / degradation, possessive lucifer, honestly i love your work so whatever you think is best!

no worries if not!!

~ 🫐

Me and the Devil

Lucifer Morningstar x reader

A/n: i love this fic so much you have no idea, I hope y’all love it too! It was super fun to write. A lot earlier than when I usually post but I forgot to post it yesterday so here we go

This includes a request by: @pllduniverse

Warnings: guided masturbation, a lil possessive Lucifer. A lil aftercare, praise, degradation, sensory deprivation.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Your devil.

See, there’s nowhere the devil goes where you don’t follow. Their loyal advisory and right hand, their most beautiful toy.

It’s common knowledge that you are theirs and theirs alone. That you are to be respected and worshiped as they are in hell. That your very name holds power simply because they say so.

What they don’t know is that The Devil worships you, as you do them.. their pretty thing, to walk along side hand by hand.

Their hands running along your skin, so gently, so passionately. When they finally got to have you at the end of the day, everyday like clockwork, it was like Lucifer needed their hands on you at all times.

You’d wait for them. Maybe in a robe, maybe a tiny silk dress. Sometimes in nothing at all. Today was one of those times. And they looked so delighted that it was.

Lucifer greeted you in a soft tone as their hands immediately began wandering your skin. A kiss placed on your forehead ever so gently. “I heard you were out and about today..” they leave the statement open, leaving room for you to continue off it. But you know they’d interrupt you a moment later anyways, because there was always a question that followed a statement from them.

“I was. You said I couldn’t visit you today, but nothing about wandering the palace…” your voice came out breathy thanks to their ministrations. Their simple touch had always been enough to make you a puddle. You can’t remember if they had trained you that way or you were simply that weak to them.

“Hm. And did you happen to run into anyone?” You almost rolled your eyes as they asked questions they obviously already had the answer to. But that would gain you a harsher punishment that already awaits you only because they’re in the mood for it. It’s no matter, since you love it all the same. “I did. I spoke with Azazel for only a moment…”

Another hum, but they said nothing more about it. That was all you needed to hear anyways.

“I want something new from you… I’d like to watch you, my sweet. I want you to listen to me very closely, and you will obey my every command.” Lucifer’s eyes followed the trail of their hands, caressing your arms, your chest… slowly trailing down your torso and admiring your soft stomach.

“And if you do well, you’ll get a reward of your choosing. How does that sound, my darling?” Their voice was smooth enough to lull you to your knees. They didn’t need to ask twice.

Their eyes trailed slowly back up, admitting every inch and curve as they did before they met your eyes once again. Since you took so long to answer. “So lost in your own little mind…”

You nodded hopelessly, quick to be verbal with your answer. “Yes master.. I’ll be good, I’ll listen closely and follow your commands.” Lucifer hummed, seemingly pleased with your answer, and placed a soft kiss to your cheek. You’d greedily take any chance possible to satisfy your devil, to be why they walk around so proudly.

“Sit on the bed for me, against the headboard, legs spread.”

They sat at the end of the bed as you quickly scattered to obey, earning a nod from them in approval. Even the most minimal sense of praise sent a sensation of fluttering between your thighs.

“Be gentle with my toy, hm? Play with yourself a little, enjoy it. But be nice and slow.. you know I’m the only one who knows how to play with my precious toy correctly.” As your hands so slowly trailed your own body, similarly to how they did, they leaned back and watched.

They watched you caress every inch of skin, down your chest all the way to your plush thighs before they spoke again. “Good.. now you’re going to close those pretty eyes, let your head fall back and just listen to me, yes?”

And soon after your reply back, they began. “You’re free to set the pace you’d like now, but let’s build up first. Nothing too quick for my toy.”

“I want you to imagine how my mouth feels all over your skin.” You swore you could feel it. Lucifer’s soft lips pressing kisses to every inch of your body, starting at your neck, slowly trailing down your chest.. their mouth wrapping around your hardened and sensitive nipples. Taking their time to worship each, leaving them both rosy and unbelievably sensitive. They’d blow cold air lightly on each, making you whine and moan.

Lucifer watched as your hands lingered much longer now on your chest, they knew exactly what was going on in your mind. They kept quiet, letting your mind wander.

Trailing lower, they would bite and suck red and purple little marks all over your stomach, telling you how soft and perfect it is, saying how much they love it… “What about my tongue, pet? Tell me how you remember it feels on you. Feel it now.”

You couldn’t help but moan as the image and feeling invaded your mind. How was it that with a simple command they could control every feeling in your body? “I-it’s- warm, wet. So good..”

Lower and lower your hands trailed down, following their own pattern, you traced featherlight touches over your thighs, so slowly moving higher and higher up. You whined. Staying true to the image in your mind so much so that it hurt to tease yourself when you so desperately just wanted to make yourself cum.

“Good little pet.. enjoy every second of it. Just like I do.” Your heart immediately raced when you heard a slight shuffling of clothes, resisting the urge to open your eyes. “You’re soaked..” their tone was clearly amused about the effect they had on you.

All your questions were immediately answered as you heard their voice significantly closer, yet lower. “Oh don’t let me distract you, pet. You’re so close to getting what you want.” A whimper slipped past your lips as you finally moved one of your hands to your aching clit.

Every muscle on your body immediately tensing at the sensation being elevated by the sensory deprivation as you kept your eyes screwed shut.

“Please..” you helplessly moaned out, not once daring to stop but pleading for more. You felt surrounded as Lucifer crawled over you, sitting close enough for your skin to be barely touching. Their thighs spreading your own apart and forcing them there. “You want me to touch you, pet? Is that what you need?”

“Yes yes yes, please- my devil my master, please.” Squirming under them as their piercing gaze studied you. Enjoying every moment of your on-going torture.

“No.. I don’t think I will. Because I think it’s important to remind you that nobody else could ever make you feel like this, pet. Nobody could get you this desperate and dumb on just words, on just their presence. Nobody but me. And yet- you took a moment to speak with Azazel… I wonder why that is.” Lucifer knew it was nothing, they were very aware. You were loyal, and so dedicated to them. They had no reason to doubt you or question your motives, and they didn’t. They just liked to play with it.

A loud moan interrupted their little moment of faux anger, followed by your pitiful whimpers and whines as you grew closer and closer to the edge. A few quiet pleas escaped your lips again, breathy and barely loud enough to stand out against the sound of your whimpers.

Lucifer would tease you. And so you did. Lucifer would edge you, and so you did.

Your bucking hips almost made them feel pity, but the sight was too good to interrupt. You squirmed, trying so hard to squeeze your thighs together even when you knew Lucifer sitting between them wouldn’t allow it.

And then you let go. Opposed to loud screaming moans, your breath got stuck in your throat. You squirmed and shivered until your body went limp from exhaustion and the only sounds in the room were now your whimpers and panting.

“See? You didn’t even need my help..” Lucifer was quick to murmur with a little chuckle, brushing off the hair away from your face and gently caressing your cheek as you took your time to calm down.

They took your hand, cleaning it off with their mouth as they licked each messy finger clean and hummed at the taste. After that they placed a kiss on the back of each before putting them down to once again hold your precious face.

You slowly opened your half-lidded eyes only to find them already looking at you with so much softness and love. “There you are.. are you all alright, my angel?” Lucifer said softly, placing a soft kiss to your cheek, smiling once you nodded.

“Perhaps we should get you cleaned up and ready for bed, yes? Your reward can wait a few hours…” you couldn’t agree more, wanting nothing other than to close your eyes and let your mind restfully drift away for the night as you lay against your devil’s chest.

[tht0nesimp]

Expectations

tw: kidnapping, pet play, this is actually half baked, punishments, shal being a dick, infantilism

A/N: this is for @high-bats-writing! Sorry this fic is probably going to be really crappy! (P.S you should totally go read the inspiration for this post < https://www.tumblr.com/high-bats-writing/746620115972440065/happy-easter-hiiii-in-the-headcanons-you-did?source=share

Out of everything you’d been tested with by him, this took the cake, it took the whole fucking bakery.

you’d handled everything he threw at you but this was simply too much, spending years trying to stay away from everything trackable was hard but knowing it was all just in vain because you were nevertheless trapped in his hands again? The knowledge of knowing your efforts weren’t worth anything in the end was devastating.

“Smile!” His cheery attitude becoming a frown when you used your—thankfully free—hands to shield your face from the camera he had in his hands

“It’s fine, I guess, we’ll have plenty of time to get a photo of you in there after all! Won’t we?” His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes when he spoke, encouraging your silence as he continues “you escaped for 2 years? How long do you think I should keep you in there?”

normally you would avoid showing weakness to him, but you couldn’t stop the widening of your eyes “I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done what I did” he tilted his head “You don’t have to be sorry, you showed me your true colors!” He chuckled

As he placed a dragging finger down a bar on the cage, you shuddered; quickly finding purchase under one of the plentiful blankets in the cage, one thing you couldn’t complain about was the near suffocating amount of warmth in the normally cold house—well, cold from what you remember from 2 years ago…

Alas, the blankets didn’t protect you from the hand that found your head. Petting your hair reminiscent of petting an animal after it did something silly, something stupid, but something endearing enough to make its owner remain entertained.

And you suppose that may be what he sees you as at the end of the day, a shivering animal used to biting to show affection. Used to having to weakly fight, the only real difference being that your owner in this situation had no intention of saving you

He kept his eyes focused on you, seeing your foot brush against the bowl at the bottom of the cage seeming to remind him “I told myself I’d make you beg, but we can start that tomorrow along with your reeducation. I’ll go fill that up”

he disappeared for a brief moment, before returning with the small bowl full of water, making you reluctantly remember the leaky faucet in the kitchen, wondering he’d ever fixed it like your told him to.

The smile that graced his feature when you saw him crush some form of pill into the clear surface of the water was incriminating alone, but looking at the small off-color dissolving particles in the water was enough to deter away your want to fix the aching thirst in your throat in the moment

Even as you expected some type of negative reaction from your apprehension, he just kept talking. Seemingly excited at getting the chance to act out a fantasy especially after losing you for so long.

his words only proved to spur on a waterfall of unfortunate thoughts, melancholy and upsetting, as they flowed through your mind; wanting to overflow into something more.

“Why are you drugging me?” The words came out weaker than what you might hope, almost dying on your tongue. “Not drugs, just vitamins since I don’t plan on feeding you all too much while you’re down here. Lest it’s like an animal, animals have to work for their food!” He clapped like a child at the zoo “but I don’t want you to be malnourished”

Comfort was never his strong suit, but in the moment it seemed believable enough to allow yourself to indulge in the clear liquid resting in the bowl at the bottom of—dare you say it—your cage

you took a sip of the water, diving your head down as you figured he might not have a great reaction at you trying to pick it up to drink it.

you struggled to drink a sufficient amount, settling for the small sip you were able to get from the bedazzled bowl, almost grateful you hadn’t noticed the “disobedient slut” in pink rhinestones on the front up until you pulled away due to your slight frenzy.

“You’re a natural” he muttered under his breath, getting a quick photo before his phone rang “must be troupe work! Be a good doll and stay right there for me”

you just hoped he wouldn’t be gone too long, after all, 2 years is a long time to spend alone.

Shal chuckled when he heard the slight sigh that left your chapped lips when he left the room, 2 years is a long time to spend alone, and a maddening time to spend with a monster—especially one like him.

[katsu28]

hii!! i love your writing (especially your ted lasso works, although, i am a tad bit biased), and i was wondering if you could do 'orange rose' for the flower prompts with my bby sam obisanya? i've noticed an extreme lack of fics about him, but i absolutely adore him

thank you so much my dear!! sam is such a ray of sunshine and such a criminally underrated character and he deserves so much more love (and i will give it to him)

orange rose: experiencing constant as well as distracting thoughts of the other person, sam obisanya x reader, reader is the team physio (except my medical knowledge is basically nonexistent pls forgive any concussion inaccuracies oops), 1.3k

Sam’s mind was not with him on the pitch today. He’d been distracted during practice before, but never like this. He attributed it to you. It was always you. 

He saw you everyday, sometimes even multiple times a day, always volunteering to pop into the treatment room if one of the boys needed ice or tape. Sometimes he visited you without having an actual reason other than wanting to talk to you for a little bit. You were always a nice change from locker room talk (and you smelled a lot nicer too). 

You plagued his thoughts day in and day out, often distracting him from whatever he was doing because he was too busy thinking about what it would be like to do things with you. Mundane things like making breakfast together. Taking an evening stroll around Richmond. Helping him test out new recipes for Ola's.

There was a rather specific reason why you were the source of his distraction today, though. 

------- 

Sam heard his name echo through the empty car park, looking up from his phone in bewilderment that soon turned to joy when he spotted you jogging towards him.

He slowed his pace to a crawl, giving you time to fall into step with him on the way towards the facility entrance. You looked almost unbearably pretty like you always did. 

“Good morning,” He said cheerfully, smiling brightly at you. “How was your night?” 

“Good! I stayed in, so it was pretty quiet, just the way I like it.” Your arm brushed against his as you moved to let another person squeeze past you, and Sam swore his heart raced double time in his chest. He had to ward off thoughts of spending quiet nights with you before you noticed him acting weird. “Any fun plans tonight after training?” 

“Yes, actually! One of my friends is having their engagement party at Clos Maggiore, near the Royal Opera House. Maybe you know it?” 

“No way! I’ve been dying to try that place, but the waitlist is miles long. I’d probably be geriatric by the time I could get a table.” You sighed, offering him a shrug. A brilliant plan sprung to Sam’s mind at that very moment, and he decided to take the plunge and outright ask you what he wanted to. 

“Would you maybe want to go with me?” He asked, rocking back on his heels nervously. The corners of your mouth turned up into a small, hopeful smile. “As my date.” He added, praying that he wasn’t overstepping his bounds. 

That got a much bigger smile out of you, a beam whose magnitude could quite possibly rival the sun, in his opinion. It was one of Sam’s favorite things about you. 

“I would love to be your date, Sam.” 

“Really?” 

“‘Course. Dunno if you’d noticed, but I like you.” 

Sam’s answer was immediate. “I like you too.” 

He wanted to continue the conversation so badly, but you’d somehow arrived at the locker room without him even noticing. Normally he’d make an attempt to prolong the conversation, offering to walk you to your office, but he could see most of the team already booted up and ready to train. 

“I have to go.” He said, sounding a touch disheartened. You must’ve noticed, because you snaked your hand into his for a quick second, squeezing fondly before dropping your hand back down to your side. 

“Well, I guess I’ll see you tonight then. Six o’clock? Don’t be late.” You called, backpedaling down the corridor with another sunshine smile aimed his way. Sam nodded furiously. 

“I wouldn’t even dream of it.” 

-------

“Sam! Sam, watch—” 

Sam shook himself out of his thoughts, but not in time to see the ball hurtling right towards his face. 

Had he been paying attention, he would’ve seen the beautiful cross-field pass Jamie had lofted his way upon seeing that he was unmarked. Since he wasn’t, it slammed into the side of his head, sitting him right down on his ass in a sprawl of limbs. 

There was a symphony of shouts and the boys were by his side in an instant, crowding around him nervously as they waited to see if he was okay. Sam sat up slowly, rubbing his temple with a bewildered look aimed at his teammate. 

“You were lookin’ right at me, man, I thought you were open!” Jamie protested, raking his hands through his hair. “Did I break anything??” 

“Yeah bruv, did he crack your skull?” 

“How many fingers am I holding up?” 

“Do you remember how much money I owe you?” That one was Jan Maas, and it earned him an elbow to the gut. “What? I don’t want to pay him.”

“Sam! Do me a favor and come over here a sec!” Ted called, beckoning Sam over to the sidelines. “The rest of you boys head on over to Coach Beard for defense drills, chop chop!” 

With another shake of his head, Sam headed over. “Yes, Coach?” 

“First of all, you alright, son? Pretty nasty knock to the noggin you just got.” Ted looked genuinely concerned, but when Sam nodded, his mouth flattened into a rather disappointed line. “Good. Glad you’re okay. Second of all, your head’s further away from this pitch right now than E.T. from his home. Wanna tell me what’s going on, or do I gotta get all stern coach on you and make you tell me?” 

“Sorry Coach, I am just…” Sam trailed off, racking his brain for the right word to describe how he was feeling without having to tell Ted that he was distracted because he was thinking about you. Telling his coach he wasn’t one hundred percent into his training was definitely not a good move. “It’s nothing. I promise I won’t lose focus again. You have my word.” 

Ted tilted his head at the young player, as if contemplating whether or not to force the reason out of it. Eventually, he just shrugged. “Alright, well, why don’t you mosey on over to the treatment room to pay the good doc a visit? See if she can’t fix you up, make you right as rain again.”

Sam nodded, his eagerness to get back onto the pitch (and maybe at the prospect of seeing you again, even for just a little bit) sending him hurrying through the facility quickly. 

The door to the treatment room was ajar when he arrived, but he knocked anyway, poking his head in to scan for you. 

“You just couldn’t wait until after training to see me again, hm?” You sighed, smiling at him warmly from where you were looking over a chart. Sam offered a rather bashful smile and a soft greeting back, boots clicking on the floor as he shuffled into the small room. “Alright, come sit. Tell me what happened.” 

“The ball hit me in the head.” He mumbled, his cheeks growing warm with embarrassment. You clicked your tongue, fingers pressing against his scalp for any bumps or abnormalities. Your touch and close proximity made him shiver, but he liked to think he kept it under wraps quite well. 

“Do you have any nausea? Dizziness? Trouble remembering things?” Sam shook his head. He enjoyed being doted on by you, even if you were just doing your job. You patted his cheek goodnaturedly. “Well, other than that nice sized bruise where I’m assuming the ball hit you, I’m not seeing any signs of concussion.” 

“Thank god. I would’ve hated to disappoint the team.” 

“Just take this cold pack and ice your head for a while. Twenty minutes on, twenty minutes off, and repeat. The swelling should go down fairly soon, but I want you to let me know if you start feeling off.” You went to grab a bag of ice and a washcloth to wrap it in as you spoke. Sam’s eyes never left you, even when you came back to place the cold pack in his hand. “Would hate to lose out on Clos Maggiore because you got knocked on the head.” 

He nodded slowly, bringing the ice up to his head. “So you are only using me for my connections, I see.” 

“Pretty obvious, innit?” You winked playfully and getting hit in the head suddenly didn’t seem like the worst thing in the world. “Right, well you should get back to the pitch. Tell Ted you’re cleared for training after you ice.” 

“Yes, doctor.” He hesitated a moment, then crossed the room to press a quick kiss to your cheek before he could chicken out. “See you tonight.” 

Had he stayed a second longer, he would’ve seen how big your smile had gotten at the simple action. 

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post new fics :)

[bibittybopittybadbxtch]

Colors

Pairing: Wonwoo x Reader

Word Count: ~ 1.1K

Warnings: None…I think

A/N: I’m on a SVT kick. So….here’s another Wonwoo fic. Love him so much. The sweetest. I hope y’all enjoy! This was so much fun to write. I also kinda wanna turn this into a series….let me know your thoughts. I love hearing from y’all. The first part is inspired by Colors by Halsey. There’s also a couple of disney quotes sprinkled in.

NOT MY GIF‼️‼️‼️‼️

P.S.

I do NOT consent to have my work posted, translated or published to any third party site or app.

XOXO, Bibi🩷

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Your last relationship had come into your life like a hurricane. He settled over you for a while, but in the end you were just another casualty. You were red and he was blue, a combination that created a beautiful lilac. Until he decided that purple just wasn't for him. He left destruction in his wake. You were left to pick up your own broken pieces, and learned how to live with the scars on your heart. For a while you were just a shell of the person you were before him. But after a year, you were stronger. You held your head higher, shoulders back, all the things your therapist taught you. You were learning how to enjoy your life on your own until you met someone new, Wonwoo.

“One date. If you still hate the idea of dating me after that, I promise I’ll leave you alone.” Wonwoo looked two seconds away from getting on his knees and begging. He had sworn he did not believe in “love at first sight” until he saw you. As cliche as it sounds the sight of you was like looking into the sun. He’d told you so himself. To which you rolled your eyes in a very ladylike fashion and walked away. Back to the moment at hand, he had been asking you out for months. You were friends and he always presented date ideas in a respectful, light hearted manner but you knew he was serious. His eyes never told a lie. Looking up into those big brown orbs it broke your heart to say no to him once again. “Wonwoo, no. I told you. I don’t wanna jeopardize our friendship.” He hadn’t seen you before. He only knew the new and improved you. You feared that opening up to him would agitate old wounds. You had lost enough people over the years and weren’t willing to lose Wonwoo too. “Come on Sunshine, you know that wouldn’t happen. We won’t let it.” Despite what you thought to be your better judgment, you said yes.

First dates were awkward. Common knowledge, basic fact, first dates felt like having chicken pox. Except this was Wonwoo, and of course it wasn’t awkward. He was still your dorky best friend. He knew you, better than you knew yourself. He took you to a drive in movie. You sat in the car and cracked jokes and threw popcorn at each other. The night ended with ice cream and Wonwoo walked you to your door. “So..am I gonna get another date?” He asked hopefully. You saw his ears tinge pink under the porch light. You pretend to think about it. Just to watch him squirm before you smile at him, “Yes, I´d actually really like that”. The smile that stretches across Wonwoo’s face is forever burned in your memory. He sweeps you into a hug, before bidding you goodnight. That night you call your best friend, you recount every moment in detail. She knows before you do that you’re falling in love.

Wonwoo picks you up the following Friday, a beautiful bouquet of daisies in his hand.”You ready Sunshine?” He asks as he takes your hand. “Well, I’d say yes but I don’t know where we are going.” He chuckles and leads you to the car before opening the door, “Do you trust me?”. “With my life,” you reply earnestly as you get in the passenger seat. Trusting him was the easiest thing you had ever done. From the moment you met him Wonwoo had been nothing but reliable. It didn’t matter if it was 2am or snowing, he found a way to be there for you. Never one to disappoint, that was Wonwoo through and through.

When the car finally comes to a stop after an hour's drive to the outskirts of the city, the sight in front of you almost makes you cry. You were at a sky lantern festival. At the beginning of your friendship, you had mentioned how you wanted to go to him. He remembered. “Wonwoo..” you begin, you don't know what you had to say. Wonwoo just looks at you and smiles warmly before getting out of the car. You're unbelievably touched. Wonwoo was by all means not an outdoors person, but the fact he held on to your words and went out of his way, brings tears to your eyes. After retrieving your lanterns the two of you find a space on the large expanse of grass. You both sit down and start decorating your respective lanterns when an idea hits you. You grab your notebook from your bag and rip out a page. Wonwoo looks over at you puzzled, “What are you doing?” “Let’s make a wish. Write your wish on the paper, when the wish comes true we tell each other.” Wonwoo agrees because how could he ever say no to you. You finish your lanterns and release them at the end of the festival, wishes tucked safely in your respective pockets. That night when Wonwoo walks you to your door, he asks you to be his girlfriend.

Two years later Wonwoo takes you back to the same field that held the lantern festival, and proposes. In the ring box, there is a small piece of paper that you recognize from a notebook that has been long forgotten. You recognize Wonwoo’s chicken scratch. “Y/N” with a small heart. “Sunshine, you were always my wish. Will you marry me?” You launch yourself at him sobbing. “So, is that a yes?” he asks cheekily. “In every language. Oui, Si, Ja, Yes.”

On the car ride home, Wonwoo sees you digging around your bag for something. “What are you looking for?” “Hold on. I know it's in here somewhere.” You bring out your wallet before unzipping it. You shuffle around for a second before pulling out a small piece of paper. “What’s that?” Wonwoo asks as he glances over before returning his attention back to the road. “My wish” you state proudly. “Oh yeah? What was your wish?” You flash him your brightest smile before unfolding it and showing him. There is your delicate handwriting. He sees his name “Wonwoo” with a smiley face. Wonwoo swears his heart is gonna explode. “You made me believe in love again. You restored my faith in humanity. You made me whole.” You tell him through your tears. Wonwoo pulls the car over and cradles your face, wiping your tears. “No, Sunshine. You did that all by yourself. I’m just here to appreciate your hard work.” He kisses you.

[alwaysxlarrie]

harry is louis’ baby fic rec masterlist part 2 :)

hi hello, so, i actually started putting together this masterlist at the end of april (since then, ‘ain’t that a kick in the head!’ has been deleted, which was on the original list. big rip) but then life just kept getting in the way. & i have like 57485 fic rec masterlists that i want to get out but i wanted to post this one first, so. here i am. i usually do 50 fics per rec list, but this is 25. so it seems i can do a (semi) shorter fic rec list. who would’ve thought? anyway, enjoy!!

a million roses (bathed in rock n’ roll) by deLILAh

i’d come across this fic a number of times before i actually read it because i don’t listen to lana del rey (thank you jennifer & @hlkings for showing me the wonders of her music) so i wasn’t sure if i’d be able to follow the storyline. but!!! worry not. that knowledge isn’t required. amazing strangers to lovers, good smut, 10/10 relationship development & individual character development 

and the truth shall set you free... by @jaerie / jaerie

jaerie knows i love this fic. my friends know i love this fic. i’m pretty sure most of the world’s population knows too. the relationship development in general & portrayal of inexperienced!harry/experienced!louis is top tier. it’s interesting reading harry going through his journey, in a generally pretty accurate way (from the perspective of someone who grew up religious), so i love that it’s in harry’s pov. i love how louis goes from teasing to soft to guiding so naturally, as well.

a rose, by any other name by @canonlarry / iwillpaintasongforlou

this fic portrays protective louis so well while harry’s still independent & in charge of his own autonomy. there’s some mentions of violence in this, just a disclaimer, but it’s veryyyyy minor! really good (dark) plot twist at the end too!

a cage for every ugly spirit by sarcasticfluentry

listennnnnnnnnnnnn. this fic??? & it’s sequel???? amazing. top tier. i just love how all the different elements of religion, kink, romance, smut, etc connect

be my little good luck charm by 100percentsassy

the flirting!!!!!! my heart!!!!!!!!!! i know larry hitting it off right away is a canon trope & all that but it’s not always easy to write in a way that doesn’t feel rushed & this fic depicts that perfectly. there’s so much wonderful humor, fluffy moments & lots of domesticness.

baby we could be enough (i’ll make this feel like home) by orphan account

i am an absolute sucker for fics where either harry or louis is a single father & the other one just swoops into their life & fits. & that’s exactly how this fic is. i’m not an angst person at all, but i also love how there’s realistic angst/concerns that a single parent would have about bringing another person into their lives. other than that bit, there’s still a whole lotta fluff !!

breathless for eternity by cabinbythesea

wow another fic where they’re strangers, hit it off immediately & have the cutest dynamic!! i’m a walking cliché atp but listen, although this is mostly pwp imo, the way louis picks up on harry’s mannerisms, what he needs as a sub, how to tease, etc is beautiful???? that takes talented writing!! we love to see it?? thank you for this???

boy for sale by @ohpleaselarry / ohpleaselarry

i mean, listen. do be mindful of the tags & what not, but. at the very core, harry is simply louis’ baby & you will not be convincing me otherwise. i would absolutely die for a prequel or a sequel. the undertones throughout this fic are *chef’s kiss*

baby thinking of you keeps me up all night by ballsdeepinjesus

i am nothing if not consistent with loving famous!louis/fanboy!harry fics, alright? you gotta give me that at least. the internal struggle louis goes through throughout the majority of this fic is so funny but also so real of him??? plus, we love thigh fucking here, so. a winner in my book!

do not falter (there’s a star ahead) by @londonfoginacup / ladylondonderry

all you need in life is harry feeling safe surrounded by louis’ scent. shit, me too, harold. there’s so much cuteness in such a short lil fic & altho it’s open ended, we all know they got together & lived happily ever after, thank you v much

gotta get (me) outta my head by @parmahamlarrie / parmahamlarrie

i have severe adult adhd & the way bee wrote this is phenomenal at making anyone who has adhd feel so seen & understood. i dream about writing my struggles w adhd as wonderfully as she did. & the way louis helps harry & is there for her in just the right ways so, so fantastically done. top tier fic for sure. 

heartbeat (fire on fire) by @larryficwriter / theifinlife

this fic was written for my @notjustsmutficfest & i adore it. louis being so vulnerable to comfort harry, louis’ family being so supportive, the check ins during the smut, the way harry makes sure louis is okay too??? I’M CRYING PEOPLE (also, there’s great smut, too)

i love this feeling (but i hate this part) by @lululawrence / lululawrence

i love the crack mixed with cute dynamic mixed with dealing with very real life situations. & the teasing at the end????? i cry!!! give this a read asap rocky

i’ll crash until you notice me by @aliensingucci / stylinsoncity

i love the pacing & how it brings in realistic elements of a boss/employee relationship while not taking out you out of the fic. top tier smut & dirty talk. the bar + bathroom scene??? that shit was art. also i love how much harry went to bat for the natives & kept coaxing louis to respect the culture of the buildings & all that. (like it’s the bare minimum really but i do like the fact that the fic went into that aspect & acknowledged it!)

late night talking by @kingsofeverything / kingsofeverything

this is simply just me continuing to not let lauren forget how much i love this fic. i could talk about this fic for hours & i’ve included this on a masterlist before but idc bc listen. the sneak dating?? the flirting?? the tension building?? there were a few plot points that kept me on my toes (everett, i’m looking at you & how long you managed to stick around for) & i respect that. i have so much more i could say about this fic but i’ll stop here so i don’t spoil anything lol.

my pleasure (to make you mine) by @zanniscaramouche / zanni_scaramouche

i don’t think i’ve let zanni have a moment of peace about this fic since i read it. for that, zanni, i’m sorry. but i’m also really, really not. the way their dynamic right off the bat is so seamless & louis does his best to make harry feel comfortable is what we in the industry like to call cinema. prior to this fic i didn’t really care one way or the other about nipple play in fics & now i don’t understand why it doesn’t occur more in fics?? zanni, you’ve changed me as a woman thx bb

meow or never by velvetnoodle

as a cat lover who has attempted to discreetly bring cats home before & a louis lover, i understand harry’s dilemma. i would also do exactly what he did if given louis’ offer. i will leave it at that & will let you bask in the magic that is this fic.

no bunny but you by @crinkle-eyed-boo / crinkle-eyed-boo

this is another fic i will simply never shut up about. louis is smooth as shit??? like. i WISH a guy would do for me what he did for harry in this. there’s just so much to adore in this from the flirting, the teasing, the relationship developments, the softness, all the little plot twists. 10/10, top tier, no notes

promise not to fade away by @nobodymoves / you_explode

i adore the way this toed the line of angst & fluff so well. it’s so sweet & cute & hot & has an open/ambiguous ending that still gives you a sense of closure imo. as someone who typically is not an open/ambiguous ending fic fan, i absolutely endorse this fic. 

stood up by panda_bear21

the pop punk!louis/popstar!harry (or the bad boy!louis/good boy!harry) trope will always give me the will to live. i love this fic bc it’s cute & does sexual tension well & while it does bring up closeting & general hollywood shittiness, it does a good job of making you feel like it’s not the actual focus of the plot & still leaves you with some hope, if that makes sense & i appreciate that v much

three french hems by 100percentsassy & gloria_andrews

idk if it’s because i started reading fan fics on wattpad (i mean, really my journey started w fanfiction.net & the fics that had the actual fic in the youtube description box & the video was a slideshow of pics but i digress) but i have a soft spot for smaus. & they can be....tricky (the wattpad homies know) but this is done so well & i need someone to get louis some perfectly cooked prawns pls!!!! also louis having a thing for harry’s thighs rly makes this baby a winner imo

to be a better man by @thedevilinmybrain / devilinmybrain

i have a weak spot for fics where harry or louis cheat on their significant other w each other. it’s my guilty pleasure. sue me. jen is so good at describing feelings, actions, etc to make you feel like you’re in the fic watching it happen. i adore the changes in larry’s dynamic, how smoothly it all happened, how much louis cared & understood exactly what harry needed, how easily harry gave in &let louis take care of him. i would absolutely read a part 2 of this w harry & louis together

wrapped in light, in life, in love by orphan account

i will never not be obsessed w fics that have the louis is gemma’s best friend & harry’s in love w him trope. that mixed w how easily & instantaneously harry & louis get along even after not seeing each other for years? add a dash of harry having louis’ baby & how obvious they are about their feelings for each other? GIMME

when we were young by @allwaswell16 / allwaswell16

ok so this is a series, not a fic B U T i feel like  you can read the fics stand alone & you can feel the vibe from each fic, but i think since they both have the ~vibe~ you just feel it all so much more when you read them together. ANYWAY. they’re so obviously smitten w each other & of course everyone else can see it but them. harry is an oblivious shit but we love him (&so does louis).

you took my heart by surprise by @loveislarryislove / livelaughlovelarry

it takes a while for harry & louis to warm up to each other, but once they do, it is just...so, so good. annika’s writing will make you feel like you’re actually experiencing the same emotions as the characters are. louis’ protectiveness & how adamant he is to not let anything get in the way of protecting harry, including himself is so heartbreakingly sweet. i cry. i adore how annika describes the emotionally conflicting emotions & situations while keeping the undertone of how much they care about & want each other. annika does not play when it comes to angst & that is a warning (although this is def not her most angst-filled fic by any means)

your heart can love again by sloganeer

this fic speaks to the famous!louis/fanboy!harry stan in me. a shocker, truly, i know! it’s so cute. i love how their relationships transitions in a way that’s quick but doesn’t feel forced & just makes sense -- the way they get domestic so quickly is simply *chefs kiss*

**friendly reminder to please leave kudos & comments on any of the fics you end up reading from this !! show the writers some love :)**

[asterias-record-shop]

Hello, I wanted to ask if your fic requests are still open? Cos I please want to ask for a Finnick Odair x reader involving major character death

So the reader's personality is somewhat similar to Lucy Gray Baird, ( if you have read A Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes). Also, I'd like her to be a victor from District 5. Because of her voice, Snow often has her sing at the capitol. She and Finnick often run into each other because of frequently having to be at the capitol, so they develop a relationship and start seeing each other romantically in secret.

Then, she later on joins the rebellion but ends up getting murdered by lizard mutts in the Mockingjay timeline because she chose to sacrifice herself during that mission. So it's the reader who dies instead of Finnick

If you want to skip this request, then that's okay. But thank you, if you'd like to take it.

Also, the one shot would be inspired by the song Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince by Taylor swift

╭════• ೋ•✧๑♡๑✧•ೋ •═══╮

         — a dream is a wish

╰════• ೋ•✧๑♡๑✧•ೋ •═══╯

I am so sorry if this is bad, I’ve never been the best at writing angst. Im not proud of it, but i didn’t want to not try :)

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[join the taglist!]𓆪

Finnick wasn’t sure where you had gotten the song you sang to your son. The Capitol had gotten rid of everything that gave knowledge of the old world, but you sang a song that you had heard from a movie.

“A dream is a wish your heart makes,” you sang, humming continuously as you slowly swayed in your all black tactical gear. He didn’t want you to go, he hated the thought of you going. He just couldn’t get you to stay. “When you’re fast asleep, in your dreams you’ll lose your heartache…”

“Y/N,” Finnick spoke as you smiled back at him. “You… you shouldn’t come.”

You continue to hum, swaying as you slowly set down your son. “Effie said she would watch Alexei. Everything will be fine.”

Finnick shook his head, sighing. “What if… what if something happens? You know we said that someone always stays when we go on missions.”

“Do you think I’d sit this out?” You ask, turning around. “Finnick, nothing will happen, I swear,” you whisper, cupping his face as he leaned down to kiss your wrist. “We said we’d do everything together too, remember? In our vows, we swore.”

“Not when I could lose you,” he whispers, his voice hoarse as he holds your forearm delicately. “I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t,” you press a firm kiss to his lips, shaking your head. “I said I’d follow you anywhere and everywhere, remember? No matter what.”

He inhaled shakily, closing his eyes as he pressed his forehead to yours. “Please don’t come.”

“I can’t let you go on it alone.” You whispered back, shaking your head. “I won’t. Anywhere and everywhere you go, I’m going.”

Finnick lets his other hand settle on your waist, sighing as he pulls you closer, letting his lips press continuously against your wrist before moving to your lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

On the journey there, he held your hand tightly through every step, enjoying your soft singing as you held his hand tightly. He loved that stupid song you sang about dreams, and how his dream was always to start a life with you somewhere safe and secure. He was fighting for that somewhere, and to be honest, he had mixed feelings about fighting it with you.

“I have something important to tell you when we get back,” you say, smiling as you bumped his hip with your own. “I think you’ll be ecstatic.”

He smiled widely, kissing your head. “Anything you say makes me ecstatic.”

As soon as you both went down that tunnel though, he knew something was wrong. You trailed behind him, much to his dismay, mainly because you were the best with firearms and you knew you could protect him.

“Go up first,” Finnick tried to tell you, but you just shook your head. “Y/N, I'm not asking you.”

“Finnick, I’m not going up that latter first,” you say, your usual strong will making his stomach twist. “Go. I’ll be right behind you.”

“Finnick, come on,” Katniss called as you started pushing him up the ladder, tapping his thigh.

“I love you,” you say quickly, smiling as he finally gets up.

Finnick goes to turn around, your scream making him almost fall as he made it to the top. He could barely get out your name when he saw the mutts come out, about to jump down before Katniss yelled into her earpiece.

“No! No, what are you doing?!” Finnick attempted to let go before Katniss grabbed his shoulders and tugged him onto the overhead, the explosion making his heart clench.

His ears were ringing, the wishful thinking of trying to hope that it was fake, that you followed behind him shattered whenever he stared down at nothing.

“What did you do?” He whispers, his voice soft before turning to Katniss. “What did you do?!”

Tears were running down her cheeks as a wail fell from her lips, the only person she ever saw as a friend or an older sister gone.

Finnick refused to believe it, though, already grabbing his trident. “We’re going back down.”

“She’s gone!” Katniss sobbed, running her hands through her hair. “She’s gone, she’s gone…”

Her voice continued to drone on, going into soft whispers as Finnick stared at the hatch.

This wasn’t real.

It wasn’t until he got back to District 13 did everything settle in. Seeing Katniss hold Alexi who was wailing and sobbing, tears in her eyes as she tried to remember the words you always sang so beautifully.

“I don’t… I don’t remember them,” Katniss whispers, thinking back to when you helped calm her down on the beach during the third quarter quell, singing softly as you braided her hair. How could she not remember them?

“I do,” Finnick’s voice was hoarse, his eyebags dark and obvious, a sniffle filling the room as Katniss tried to shake her head.

“You need to go back to sleep-”

“A dream is a wish your heart makes,” he hummed softly, his voice cracked and breaking since he wasn’t much of a singer, but he quickly calmed down at the sound of the lyrics. “When you’re fast asleep, in your dreams you’ll lose your heartache…”

Finnick continued to sing the words that you knew by heart, even if it wasn’t the best, but it still made Alexi calm down. He stared down at Alexi’s eyes which were an exact replica of your own, smiling with tears filling his eyes.

Maybe not all hope was lost, afterall.

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© asterias-record-shop

[natsuphoria]

Hihi! I loved ur first fic w/ natsume and jun! If u don't mind could u write abt Eichi, Keito and Nazuna having a crush on reader but the reader is super oblivious </3 and thinks they're just supperr close and calls them "nii-chan"

thank you anon! i didnt know much about these characters so this was a fun challenge <3 (everyone say thank you cherry, reze and qian for helping liddle ol’ me with characterisation!) also oblivious reader is so silly /pos

eichi, keito & nazuna crushing on an oblivious reader

they/them pronouns used for reader in keito's part; no pronouns in other parts

eichi would be confused at first, but it eventually makes way for amusement!

he’s a busy man, but he makes sure to make time for you. you’re incredibly important to him… even if you’re not aware of just how much.  

at first he thinks he’s doing something wrong – much of his knowledge on courting and romance comes from movies and books, so he’s unsure as to whether such things are okay in real life.

he invites you to tea… or to a fancy dinner… he buys you whatever you even glance at… and all he’s met with is a sweet smile and a bright “thank you, nii-chan!”

ah… he’s not very sure on how to proceed. cue the signature eichi faint smile ^_^

he’s not very creative in this department, so i’d expect him to start consuming more romance media to gain inspiration… he's hitting the books yall look at him go!!

due to this, a lot of his courting methods are traditional and cliche, but it’s incredibly endearing that he tries so hard! or it would be, if you were aware that he was courting you in the first place…

i’d think eichi is quite the clingy person – he hasn’t had many friends or acquaintances, so to find someone he likes so much? someone who (probably. arguably. possibly.) likes him back just as much? he’s going to be so protective of you. 

it’s very obvious how much he favours you! at least to everyone else -.- he’d have a special seat in his office just for you… your favourite tea blends (or other drinks, if you don’t like tea!) just within reach… 

it’s visible in the way his voice softens almost imperceptibly when he’s speaking to you, or the way a smile slips onto his face when your name pops up in conversation.

though he thinks your oblivion is amusing – aren’t you just the cutest, most innocent thing? – he’s well aware of his clock ticking down. he won’t admit it, but he’s quite afraid that he won’t be able to spend as much time with you as he wants to. he’ll have to speed things up… maybe he’d just have to ask you directly? you’re sure to say yes, right? 

keito & nazuna below the cut!

ah, keito. he’d be losing his mind actually.

this man is absolutely an overthinker. his huge wrinkly brain is working overtime for sure.

it’s silly because both of you would be oblivious at first! meaning, keito wouldn’t notice his little crush until someone else points it out to him.

even then, he’d be firmly in denial… such feelings are utterly foreign to him. plus, he has no idea what to do with them!?

confess, keito. shoot your shot, that’s what. ← real words from his lecture club

he’s not likely to confess to you unless he knows for sure that you like him back. he likes having a solid plan to follow, and feels much more at ease when he can anticipate every outcome.

but you’re not gonna make it that easy for him, are you?

he really does try his best… but he has unconventional ways of showing his affection

he nags at you quite a bit! i hope you like his lectures 0(-( he just wants you to be at your best i promise.

romantic words aren’t really his forte. this man is incredibly awkward when it comes to you, so any attempts to rizz you up end in him getting embarrassed and fleeing the scene.

100% he comes up to fix your collar or your tie and he’s so flustered from the proximity but you’re just like :DD nii-chan!!! and there’s a pang in his chest.

"i smiled at them more than normal why dont they get it" "keito you looked constipated" /hj

he’d probably write manga about you… or create a character that’s clearly inspired by you… please, please take the hint ;-;

he’d be crazy frustrated!! he’s not getting through to you at all and it’s driving him insane. this is solidly outside his comfort zone too, he’s not exactly having a fun time. he thinks he’s doing something wrong, or that this is your way of telling him you’re not interested… poor keito :(

someone close to him would have to coax him into telling you directly!! even then, it would take him a fair amount of time to psych himself up enough to act.

when it happens, though, he'd be a blushing, stuttering mess -- such a far cry from his usual calm demeanour.

nazuna is a sweetheart tbh...

he's already an affectionate and caring person, but it's turned up tenfold with you! it's pretty obvious when he has taken a liking to someone.

nazuna strikes me as someone who has to have a solid friendship before they can develop a crush, so the two of you probably already have a good relationship!

he dotes on you a ton, and checks up on you the same way he does his unitmates! he just wants you all to do your best, and he's unconditionally proud of you regardless of the outcome. he makes sure you know it too.

sure, he likes being called nii-chan by his juniors, but theres a certain pang in his chest when it's coming from you, especially when you sound so sincere about it.

ah... maybe he's taken on a brotherly role from your perspective... how would he go about expressing his interest in you instead? he's extremely respectful about it. nazuna drinks his respect people juice daily ^_^)b

he doesn't really know a way other than showering you with even more affection. loving you comes so easily to him! how could it not? you're so incredibly precious, he just wants to see you happy :)

poor guy gets overwhelmed easily, though... the combination of your sweet smile and your oblivious reactions to his advances makes his head swim!! if he's not careful? if he gets worked up enough and acts rashly? he might just go in for the kiss straightaway...

tags: @tokusaatsus, @kalimism

[impossiblesongs]

nobody loves me, it's true (dhawan!master x reader)

Summary: You don’t know why this kind of does it for you. What awful implications can be drawn from the outside, the probable one being that your husband hasn’t touched you in months. You are twin beings of woe, holed up in a frigid Russia.

Disclaimer: Not my characters. This is a disclaimer.

WARNING: this chapter may be pure filth. NC17. MINORS DNI AN: i've been trying to get better at smut and technically this is my third try at writing this kind of thing, but this is the first time i'm actually posting it, so....... jealous idiots = shameless rasputin smash. apologies to the late russian royals, you were but ploys in this virtually non-existent plot and i used the basest of my knowledge including you, so i beg of you: LOOK AWAY AN2: but is there plot here, you’d ask? to which, it’s a weekend before resurrection, i’d say. we all get a free pass?? AN3: fic title from 'sour times' by portishead

✍️✍️✍️fic masterlist

nobody loves me, it’s true dhawan!master x reader dhawan!master timeline: pre-power of the doctor

He’s virtually got an entire army at his beck and call, and yet you both find yourselves in St. Petersburg in 1916. Even with the survival of his beloved Cyber Masters, he spends more time committing himself to holiness and to Russia. You are virtually his shadow, garbed in black, his companion. A healer nun, or whatever he deigns to call you lately that has you able to slink around the palace virtually unbothered.

“She doesn’t speak, you see,” he once relayed to Alexandra, a tear in his eye, “attends to me, with astounding servitude.”

At first, it rankles, how he baits you with the softness he treats Alexandra, but he’s mostly sulking. He was plainly jealous after you met with the Doctor. Which is ridiculous, but as you are standing now, with seemingly no rhyme or reason other than sowing chaos, at least he was getting back to some kind of his usual business. Or so you tell yourself.

You hear him return to the cottage before you see him. You’d made it back before he had, tasked with monitoring the child royal while he played at politics.

“How fares our little blood clot today?”

“You have care of Alexei now, do you? Oh, I forgot, I’ve taken a vow of silence.”

“Snark does not become you, dearest,” he says, dropping onto the chair in front of the desk.

“Nor holiness you,” you say, “and yet.”

“Alexandra was a vision in white today,” the Master adds with a sigh. “She just about ravaged me with her gaze, you should have seen it. To be honest, I just don’t know how much longer she’ll be able to help herself.”

“Oh, you think you are so funny,” you tear your headdress from your head and run a hand through your hair, massaging the area. You don’t fail to note that he’s trailing your every move with hooded eyes. “Please, do leave your delusions to your alluded God. He’s just as baseless.”

“You know, dear, I think perhaps you’ve just convinced me to make the first move. I’ll seek her out in the dead of night, passing off terrible proclamations and offering heady absolutions,” he snaps his fingers, “all in one fell swoop. It seemed to work on you.”

Your lips spread in a wide smirk, your heart never used to the careless way he chips away at it these days, but you’ll be damned to show it. His lips want to pull up at the sight of your smile, you know the tells of it, but he fights to maintain his image of absolute indifference.

You find yourself walking forward slowly, nearing the table and him. His eyes remain rooted upon your approach, you see his body shift subtly towards you in attention. You wonder if he’s aware of it, what he’s telling himself about his outward reactions being so transparent, even in the face of his dastard cruelty.

His hair is longer than he’s ever had it with this face, beard frankly horrendous, eyes tinted a metallic blue. He looks enough the part of a madman, some cruel creature conjured up, comes to prey upon you and the unfathomable limitless existence you allow him.

You don’t know why this kind of does it for you. What awful implications can be drawn from the outside, the probable one being that your husband hasn’t touched you in months. You are twin beings of woe, holed up in a frigid Russia.

You skirt the side of his desk with a finger before moving to sit right at the center of it.  

The Master splays his knees in answer but makes no further outward acquiesce to your nearness, his eyes remain speculative.

It stirs something in you, something so glaringly furious that it makes you frighteningly calm.

You toe off the stupid shoes that accompany this ridiculous get-up and prop one bare foot on his knee, whilst the other swings idly near his calf.

“I think if you made a move on Alexandra,” you say, “the Doctor would immediately know of it.”

The Master scoots his chair forward, effectively bridging the gap and prompting your foot to slide further up.

“Do you?” He queries conversationally, eyes peering off as in deep thought while his hand cups your other foot near his calf and brings it to sit on his thigh.

“Quite hard to gloss over an Empress with an icepick run through her eyeball, even if History bores you to death,” you say. "You wouldn't miss that new detail."

The Master laughs mildly, “You’d do that to me? Expose my plots? For jealousy?”

Without thinking further about it, you slip from the desk onto his lap easily and your fingers curl around the hair at the back of his head, pulling sharply. He hisses, body going taut beneath you. You bring your lips to his ear, “I think you know by now that I’d do more for less when it comes to you.”

His laughter comes in jagged huffs now, “Oh, I’d love to see you try, pet. You startle me, truly. Quaking in my gear.”

“You’re something,” you relent the hold on his hair and pull back to look at him, “I don’t know if you even notice it anymore, it’s been so long. But look at your hands.”

You watch him swallow and feel him flex his fingers. They’re clutching at the flesh at the back of your thighs under your dress. They’ve clearly wandered without his intent.

“Dear me,” he utters, eyes wide and watching you like you’re the only thing that exists in the world. His fingers start stroking nearer to where you want him most, watching as he trails the flush breaking across your skin. “Whatever will you do to answer to this offense?”

“Well,” you take care to speak gently against his lips, but you don’t press, you don’t give, “Father Grigori, I’d suppose, you’d have to beg for it.”

The Master’s eyes narrow and his face hardens, “I don’t beg, not for anyone.”

“Shame,” you lean back and press your legs together, retreating from the warmth of his touch and climbing off his lap with steel in your veins. You settle back on the desk, skin scalding from where he’s touched you, knickers already soaked through. “You’ve a good idea, though. Perchance I’ll go find myself an Emperor,” you say, voice husky, “I hear he’s a worshiping sort.”

The Master jolts upright and grasps your throat roughly in both hands, leaning closer to tower over you, almost swallowing you with the length of his body. You squirm with anticipation, delighting in the slow pressure of his hand, the dizzying and delicious effect when he squeezes.

This threat is so double-edged and precarious, that it will cost both of you. It’s reckless and dangerous, but he’s painfully livid at the mere idea. The insinuation of you sleeping with someone else all the while playing ignorant to the fact that he’d just threatened to do the same. Normally you’d loathe to stoke that fire, but if he’s going to bait you, it’s only fair to bully him in return.

“He’d have no idea,” you push even further, “the things I could show this Emperor. Imagine that, modern woman like me, effectively tainting the hand of Russia towards degeneracy. I’d do it again and again, and again. Poor Alexandra, there’d be no denying because I’d have his scent all over me. But, of course, you’d know. I even managed to show you a few things, didn’t I?”

He startles still when you grasp him through his clothes, face twisting in a way that’s akin to agony.

“Beg,” you coo, moving your hand in firm, even strokes.

Even with his robe giving him what you amount to the barest of sensations, he strains towards your touch, seeking the friction desperately.

“Or perhaps you should go find Alexandra,” you hiss, tearing your hand away and moving to stand, intending to push yourself away and leave him in his wanting.

The string snaps as it’s pulled, just like you estimated.

The Master’s fingers curl over said wrist with a swiftness you’d not expected, bending it backward painfully. You cry out just as his mouth crashes onto yours. He crowds your body up onto the desk further, bending your legs and hefting your wool skirt to your waist, manhandling you so roughly it makes your breath stutter from your lungs, has you spreading your legs wantonly.

He makes quick, uninventive work of it, but your blood and lust are already up, and you cry out gratefully when he pushes himself inside of you.

You must both make such grotesque misshapen figures, both virtually fully clothed and rutting against each other, chasing climax in the heart of Russia of all places. This isn’t initially where you’d considered he would finally crack, but then again, you thought he would give in months back. You’d never believed that either of you could keep your hands off one another once you’d both finally given into it.

“Beg,” you cry out, holding onto him fiercely as he bucks up into you, as you push back to meet him, “Master, beg me to fuck no one else but you.”

He digs deeply frustrated fingers into your hips and covers your mouth with his own, the kiss deep and mellowing. He’s hoping you’ll lose your play at power if he stows you away in the bewitching shade of his avidity. Of course, he forgets he’s so easily susceptible, too, and you have a point to prove.

“He’s just as tall as you,” you babble on nonsensically, your release just at the edge of your grasp it has you curling your toes in anticipation, “have you noticed? He’s just your height. Maybe he’d wear his uniform. I’d like that.”

The Master growls furiously, his hips already stuttering, dragging you closer, teetering you both right along that familiar edge.

“Beg, or I swear I’ll dare it. Oh, god, I’ll let him do whatever he likes,” your nip at the soft end of the Master’s ear, “but it’s your name I’ll call out, it’ll always be your name.”

Your orgasm hits you fiercely, robbing the breath right from you and prompting the Master to sob out his release almost in tandem. It whites out your vision, taking you plummeting up high to the heavens only to come smack right down into your body, slouched up against your husband, both of you breathing hard and indulging in quiet after.

It only fully registers as your senses return to you, that a torrent of soft pleas are coming from him as he holds you close and kisses your cheeks, your eyelids, the shell of your ear, your neck. His touch is reverent and doting, he’s gone putty in your hands. You open your eyes and what you see is so ridiculously beautiful. Cosplaying Rasputin aside, he’s the most adorable bastard you’ve ever met, truly.

“Please, don’t, don’t ever love anyone else,” he says. “Not like this, don’t ever do that to me.”

You kiss him quiet. Your physical affection assure him more than your words would, but you say it anyway. “As if I ever could.”

[sparklepocalypse]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thanks to @cha-melodius, @kiwiana-writes, @anincompletelist, @orchidscript, @myheartalivewrites,

… aaaaand @firenati0n for the tags! (This five tags per line thing really is for the fucking birds, y’all.)

How many works do you have on AO3?

106 works and counting.

What’s your total AO3 word count?

461,281 😱

What fandom(s) do you write for?

Currently? Red, White & Royal Blue, and RWRB RPF.

Historically? Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel the Series, Queer as Folk, Supernatural, That One Fandom With The Wizards and the Bigoted Creator, Smallville, Glee, and a handful of other RPF fandoms.

What are your top five fics by kudos?

Even though, IMO, kudos are a poor metric of the quality of a fic…

What’s Symbiotic will Always Be | RWRB | Alex/Henry | E | 2.6k words — my Kinktober 2023 breeding kink fic.

Be Worthy Love, and Love Will Come | RWRB | Alex/Henry | E | 30.8k words — my epic childhood friends to lovers AU.

Wrap Me Up, Unfold Me | RWRB | Alex/Henry | E | 4.3k words — my mile high club smut inspired by one of Hann’s incredible art pieces.

Take it Down Low / Make Me Get High | RWRB | Alex/Henry | E | 2k words — my Kinktober 2023 rimming fic, which has been described as that rimming fic.

I’d Wanna Be Held By You, Felled By You | RWRB | Alex/Henry | E | 2.3k words — my lake house smut inspired by Henry sharing Alex’s clothes.

More under the jump to save you a scroll!

Do you respond to comments?

Yes! I’m horrendously behind, but I promise I’ll catch up one of these days… I hope.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

We’re just gonna focus on my RWRB works here so I don’t have to dig too far. I don’t really do truly angsty endings in this fandom, but I did write one piece with an open-ended ending:

Back, Bring it Back | RWRB | Alex/Henry | T | 1.2k words

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

It’s a toss-up between two of them, so have them both!

Single Sad-Sack Seeking Same | RWRB | Alex/Henry | E | 7.7k words, and

Count to Ten & Breathe Real Deep | RWRB | Alex/Henry | E | 8.1k words

Do you get hate on fics?

I have had an anon throw a tomato emoji at one of my fics, which still stuns me. I used to get significantly more hate when I was writing in more problematic fandoms… 😅 but if you want to read the fic where Alex bottoms for the first time, and I got this comment, where they not only flung produce but also… felt the need to censor the word “top” for… reasons:

… then you should read In the Low Lamp Light, I was Free | RWRB | Alex/Henry | E | 3.1k words, which is my take on what happened with that second condom wrapper in the Paris scene.

Do you write smut?

Oh, fic meme creator, this is the cutest, funniest question.

Do I write smut? Hilarious.

What’s your craziest crossover?

Speaking of smut — I don’t really write crossovers, but I’ve written a few monsterfucking or monsterfucking-adjacent fics:

If We’re Caught in a Wave, I Will Carry You Over | RWRB | Alex/Cecaelia!Henry | E | 5.9k words

Just Let the Night Go Down | RWRB | Alex/Henry/Oviposition Toy | E | 2.2k words, aaaaand

All the Ocean was Sleeping | RWRB | Alex/Siren!Henry | E | 6.4k words

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge. Fic (and fandom) are pretty reductive though. For example, I know that there’s someone writing a King Henry AU for @aroyallybigbangrwrb, and I’ve been working on my own King Henry AU since last September. There will probably be some similarities; can’t be helped. I’m not worried about it though, unless there are wholesale chunks of paragraphs that are somehow magically identical.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

I don’t believe so, but I have a blanket permission statement on my AO3 account, so if someone wanted to translate my work I’d be down!

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Eons ago, I used to co-write Kurtofsky fic in the Glee fandom. Pretty sure all of those works have been lost to the ether, as this was before AO3 was absorbing archives as they went kaput. I’m not completely heartbroken about it.

All time favorite ship?

Darcy/Elizabeth from Pride and Prejudice. No, I’m not kidding.

What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I have a couple really old WIPs from previous fandoms that I put a lot of work into, and then the ADHD took hold before I could complete them. It would be interesting, at the very least, to revisit these. Maybe retool them into something usable for this fandom, IDK.

What are your writing strengths?

Making people absolutely collapse in a heap of devastation with my angst, as @hgejfmw-hgejhsf, @kiwiana-writes, and @ad-astra13 will attest; smut with “multiple different positions laid out in such detail you can almost see the gifs used as reference,” according to @bigassbowlingballhead. I also like to think that my spicy trauma makes me pretty funny.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Brevity — given the option, I’d rather write 5k words than a drabble every time. I also really struggle with saccharine sweetness and fluff for the sake of fluff, despite what y’all keep saying in my comments section; my sweetness is always bittersweet. And kidfic gives me the ick, as the youths would say, even if I’m the one writing it.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

Yes! Just make it something that I can Google Translate and I’m good.

Which fandom was the first you wrote in?

Buffy the Vampire Slayer, way back in the 1990s. (Yeah. I’m that old.)

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

So, I have two. My favorite fic overall is my King Henry AU, Facing Tempests. I affectionately refer to this fic as KHIX (King Henry IX) and The Big Giant AU, and it’s my baby. I’ve commissioned some really incredible art from @seanchaidh7 for Facing Tempests that I can’t wait to share with y’all when the fic is ready to post.

My favorite published fic is If We’re Caught in a Wave, I Will Carry You Over, for which I commissioned some absolutely stunning art from @artofobsession which is now embedded in the story on AO3. There are several other fics that come close, but octoHenry is my beloved.

My tag is always open! Because this meme has been out for a couple days, I’m not gonna cold call anyone, but if you’re reading this, yes you with the clenched shoulders and the mild headache from staring at a screen, then consider yourself tagged!

[tgmsunmontue]

Another Time (Chapter 1/14)

Summary: Jake wakes up in Rooster's body about ~30 or so hours post-Mission and they have to deal with it. They're adults. Apparently.

A/N: There seems to be a lack of body-swap in this fandom, so I thought I’d give it a crack. It’s one of my favourite tropes. I am from New Zealand but I write with lots of ‘z’s and remove a lot of my ‘u’s. However I don’t in my author’s note. Hopefully I caught them all – apologies for slip-ups. (I also type with wrist braces on so my finger mobility can be a bit screwy – that said I’m also a fandom old (but not an elder) so while this isn’t my first fic, it is my first in the fandom and after I’ve taken a break.

Jake’s POV for odd chapters, and Bradley’s POV for even chapters.

Also, obligatory note that I have no knowledge of the US Navy (and that whole ‘girl, what were you doing at the devil’s sacrament?’ thing applies here as well in terms of military propaganda).

(Posting on Tumblr, chapter a day until it's complete (currently 12 chapters in), after which I will post it on AO3 once a day until it's complete).

CHAPTER ONE 

               Jake wakes up in the sick bay, his breath coming in gasps as his dream fades into mist. Why is he in the sickbay? He doesn’t remember getting here and that’s never a good sign. There’s only half-light, the room has no portholes just some lights left on the dimmest possible setting; he can tell he’s still on the ship. The last thing he remembers though is falling into exhausted slumber in his rack, Javy below him and Payback and Fanboy opposite. He doesn’t feel right though, body aching all over, skin tight in places it shouldn’t be. He holds his hand up in front of his face and squints. Blinks.

                That is not his fucking hand.

                Okay.

                Deep breath.

                In.

                …

                And out.

                …

                Again.

                 …

                He tries to sit up and needs to slow down the movement, body stiff and he’s not in his own body. Or there’s something very wrong with his head. Or both. He’s staring at mostly bare feet that don’t belong to him (one is wrapped in a bandage and is slowly throbbing in time with his heart – it doesn’t feel like a good idea to test bearing weight on it) when the door to the sickbay opens abruptly and he just stares. He guesses he knows where his body got to.

                “Thank fuck! You okay?”

                “I… Rooster?” He’s hazarding a guess, but it’s the only one that makes sense. He has no idea where Mav is, the other bed is empty. And he’s somehow in Rooster’s body, and not in a way he previously imagined was ever possible.

                “Yeah. Fuck this is weird. You’re in my body.”

                “Yeah, no shit. You’re in mine. What the hell happened?”

                “I don’t know! I woke up in your rack and promptly whacked my head because I thought I was here…” Rooster says, putting his hand to his (Jake’s) forehead where a bump is already forming.

                “Be a little more careful with the goods there…” Jake says, and he feels like throwing up a little, although honestly he’s not sure if that’s in response to seeing himself through someone else’s eyes or if he’s feeling Rooster’s concussion. This is already a colossal mindfuck and he’s only been awake for a few minutes.

                “Yeah, you too. Are you feeling okay? I was feeling pretty shit yesterday.”

                “I can confirm this body still feels like shit.”

                “Okay, here, drink some water. I’m allowed to take some ibuprofen. That’ll help.”

                “We need to report this?”

                “No! Fuck. No… I mean, maybe it’s just a short 24 hour thing?”

                “You think it’s like a stomach bug? You think people just change bodies with someone and it goes away overnight?”

                “You have any smarter ideas? I want on the next transport off, and if they think I’m not stable enough to travel… or if something is wrong –”

                “There is something wrong!” Jake hisses, because he is not okay with this. Maybe if he wasn’t feeling like he’d ejected and then crash landed he’d be more… relaxed. Fuck if he knows. He can’t argue with wanting to get back to shore though.

                “Okay, there is. But let’s get back to shore, RTB and then… figure out a plan of attack.”

                “Oh, I cannot wait to hear what you think might work.”

                “Shut up.”

                The door to the sickbay opens again and they both turn to look at the corpsman entering the room.

                “Morning lieutenants. Any reason you’re here Lieutenant Seresin? Not bothering my patient I hope?”

                “Not at all, I just needed, uh, wanted to check on him…”

                Jake watches his own neck flush in embarrassment, and hmm, that’s interesting.

                “He can, uh, stay, while you check me over,” Jake says, because he has no clue what Rooster was like last night, over than alive. He’d been fine on deck right after Mav had (crash) landed, but he suspects adrenaline had been carrying them both forward for the most part. Now it’s been over 24 hours and he’s pretty sure Rooster’s ankle might be broken, given the sharp increase in pain as it dangles freely. He has no idea where Mav has fucking disappeared to, but he’d been here yesterday when he’d popped in for a quick check-in with some of the others.

                “Well, okay. Let’s look at your ankle first. I hope you weren’t seriously considering walking on it after what I told you last night.”

                “Sorry, forgot. Really need to piss,” he states, which is partial truth and lie. He couldn’t forget something he didn’t know.

                “Hmm. Here then.”

                Jake takes the container and chances a quick glance at Bradley who is fucking smirking at him with his own damn face. Unbelievable.

                “Nothing I ain’t seen before sailor…”

                Jake feels heat flood his face for no good reason and that’s mortifying, he’d take his own neck flush of embarrassment over this any day. Of course Bradshaw means it because it’s his fucking body, but the look the medic is giving them is amused, clearly having drawn their own conclusions and Bradshaw is looking completely unrepentant. Asshole.

TWO

[syrupfog]

I have a lot of trouble reading amnesia fics, and I’ve decided to dissect that. 

I think I just really struggle with reading the rest of the characters in constant emotional pain. I put myself in the shoes of the amnesiac and *i* feel guilty about not being able to remember them

So like. What would it take for me to write an amnesia fic? It would have to be one where no one is hurt by the amnesia. Maybe even one where amnesia is a good thing. 

I think it would start from the (3rd person) pov of the person waking up with amnesia.

And it would be written so we as the readers aren’t suffering from the knowledge that the character’s family/friends are missing them/looking for them/sad at being forgotten. 

So like. A lulaw fic maybe.

Law wakes up in the middle of nowhere. All he knows is his name and that there’s rage inside of him. 

I think we’d meet members of the heart pirates early on, as a promise to the reader that his crew aren’t in pain missing him. They haven’t met, haven’t formed a crew.

Actually I’d like it if the heart pirates (as we know them) are scattered between other pirate crews and Law eventually picks them out and adds them to his own. 

But that would be way later down the line.

I think it starts with him waking up in a little dinghy that’s washed ashore on an empty beach. No one around, totally lost, he tries to scavenge but all his inherent knowledge is how to fend for himself in city environments

So when a ship appears, he begs for a ride to… somewhere. 

He’s welcomed warmly, excitedly, by the captain with the scar under his eye. The others aren’t as trusting, and the archaeologist looks like she wants to say something, but stops herself.

They bring him aboard and he awkwardly tries to integrate while unsure how much to trust them. He feels anger inside, still, and nothing to do With it. 

I think eventually Robin tells him that she knows some of his story. Recognizes his tattoos.

He has his normal forearm and hand tats, but no hearts. 

She tells of a man who matches his appearance who is wanted for burning a country to the ground.

He was second in command of a powerful pirate named Doflamingo, she says. No one knew what transpired between them exactly, but there had been an argument, a fight between them, one that destroyed miles of land around them. Scorched earth. No one had seen either since.

Law doesn’t gain his memories there but he wonders if that’s true. He wonders if he’s a monster. 

What he knows about himself is he’s surly and can’t show emotions on his sleeve like the captain of his ship. He knows he feels rage.

He knows he doesn’t have natural warmth the way these people all seem to. A carefree joy and happiness that he’s surrounded by. 

He thinks he must be evil. 

He wonders what he’s supposed to do about that. Turn himself in?

Luffy says no, that’s dumb. You’re a pirate now, and anyway you don’t remember any of that shit so it would be stupid to turn yourself in. 

He makes it sound simple. 

Law doesn’t think it is.

Oh I think Bepo is on the straw hat crew. 

I think he’s drawn to Law. They make quite a pair, the timid apologizing bear and the quiet, angry man. 

I think when they reach a larger island, Bepo asks permission to follow Law. He’s worried about him. Doesn’t want him to be alone.

I think that’s the start of the heart pirates. 

Penguin and Shachi are on Kid’s crew, and I think Kid only lets them follow Law because Penguin and Killer are married so they’ll always have SOME loyalty to him.

But they find him much later, after Law’s picked up a small ship with Bepo. They have a run in with the Kid pirates because Kid had MET Doffy and Law at some point previously and he tries to fight Law. 

This is the first time Law learns he has a devil fruit.

Because he’s running from Kid (“I don’t fucking know you stop acting like I do!”) and Kid is confused why he’s not at the very least using room to get away. 

When he stops trying to beat Law’s ass (mostly because Bepo protects him), Kid very angrily explains.

About the op op fruit and about how Law had been the one to sever his arm. 

Law maybe has a panic about that. More proof he’s evil. 

Kid says with Law’s fruit he didn’t have to worry about bleeding out at least. He just. Didn’t have an arm anymore.

Was that a kindness? Who knows? 

(Eventually Law knows. He knows he was trying to help, knows there was something in him that told him enemies of Doffy were his allies). 

Anyway he gets Penguin and Shachi there. 

He still gets Jean Bart at Sabaody, the next time he sees Luffy.

He still keeps running into Luffy, the personification of warmth and the one who first saved him. There’s gratitude there. There’s love, later. 

His memories come back to him in nightmares. Flevance. Doflamingo. 

He doesn’t remember Cora.

He doesnt remember Cora but he does remember Doflamingo arranging a marriage. Charlotte Pudding (okay she’s like 10 years older in this timelines are hard). He didn’t tolerate her, but he could never disobey Doffy.

She DID escape the fire. He finds her over a year later. He gets back the memories she took, at Doffy’s command. 

He remembers Cora. 

The heart pirates get their name. 

He gets his heart tattoos.

He knows where the anger in him came from. Even when she took his memories she couldn’t take the love and anger buried in him. 

The next time he sees Luffy he’s a full fledged pirate captain with a crew who’s been there as he’s discovered himself.

He’s grateful to Luffy but Luffy doesn’t care about that. 

He cares about the first time he sees Law smile with real joy on his face. 

And then I dunno they kiss or something.