#i'm keeping that ask in my inbox for now because i might come back to it later. no promises though

[attleboy]

Who dya think Pomni would've bitten?

well when i was drawing it i wasn't thinking of anyone specific... so it can be whoever you want!

however... let's go through the suspects

jax would definitely bully someone into a violent rage... no need to explain that one i think

caine and kinger might unintentionally startle pomni into attacking, but i think they're a little too... uh. weird for it to be all that climactic? caine would just go "BAD!! BAD POMNI!!" and spritz her with a spray bottle until she let go, meanwhile kinger probably wouldn't even notice until pomni had already stopped...

gangle and zooble probably wouldn't be bitten just because they'd avoid a high-strung pomni. gangle out of fear, and zooble because they're not stupid enough to poke a ticking time bomb

and for ragatha... i'm just gonna leave this other anon's idea here because... yeah

definitely unintentional on both sides, but isn't that where the best tragedy lies?

[literaryavenger]

You Were My Sunshine

Summary: Once a year you disappear for a whole day. Nobody knows where you go or what you do, but the team has learned to let you have your privacy. This year though, Bucky's curiosity gets the better of him and he follows you.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of death. Grief. Some angst. Fluff. No mentions of Y/N.

Word Count: 3K

A/N: I realize this is a little heavy and you absolutely don't need to read it. This one's mostly for me, but I thought why not post it and let Bucky comfort other people, if you need it. As always, my inbox is always open if you want to even just chat. I hope someone likes this. Also, I promise the requests are coming, a little slowly but they're coming. I'm on vacation for two weeks so I'll spend the time writing, probably.

Masterlist

“Have a good day.” Steve calls after you as you pass the kitchen.

You stop in front of the door to smile at Steve and wave at the team as they all have breakfast together before you keep making your way to the elevator that will take you to the parking garage.

“So, we’re really just accepting this?” Bucky asks the team when the elevators close behind you and he’s sure you can’t hear him.

“Yes, Buck.” Steve says firmly.

“But-” Bucky’s protests are cut off by Tony.

“She’s entitled to her privacy.” He says firmly. “Just let it go, Frosty.”

Bucky ignores the nickname and looks around the team, searching for anyone that might have his back, but nobody else seems to be too invested in your day. Bucky gets up with a huff and makes his way to the training room, resigned that he has to let you be.

You’ve always been an open person, you’re always there for everybody that needs you and you’re not afraid to talk about anything with anybody.

Your life is an open book.

Which is precisely why it drives Bucky crazy that, once a year, you disappear for an entire day and nobody knows where you go or what you do.

You disable all your communication devices, the tracking in your car and you don’t use credit cards anywhere. 

It’s like you cease to exist for a day, leaving no trace that you were anywhere.

At least that’s how the team sees it. 

They’ve all tried to figure out where you go, but that’s the only subject that you never talk about and, every time anyone asks you about it, your answer is always the same:

Don’t worry about it.

After so many years, the whole team has decided to listen to you and stopped worrying about it. 

Everyone except Bucky.

It’s not like you’re that close with him, but he considers you his friend and he trusts you, so it irks him that you have this huge secret that nobody knows anything about.

Needless to say, he worries about it a lot.

That’s why right now he finds himself tip toeing down to the garage. He sees you get into your car and drive away and, without even thinking about it, he jumps on his bike and follows you.

He knows this is wrong, he knows he shouldn’t follow you, that you’re allowed to have your secrets. But he can’t help himself when it comes to you. You make him lose control, you make him go insane. 

He just needs you. to know.

So he follows you, as discreetly as only a trained assassin knows how. He follows you into the city and stops a few cars away when you park in front of a secondhand bookstore. Bucky knows that shop all too well, it’s one of his favorite places to visit when he’s in the city.

He waits until you disappear behind a shelf before going in, watching you as you browse the books. It looks to Bucky like you’re looking for a particular book, when you find it, he can see your face lighting up.

You turn the book to look at the back cover and Bucky can read the title very clearly. ‘Harry Potter and the Half-blood Prince’, one of your favorite books. Bucky knows that because he’s talked about it with you for hours, along with all the other books of the series and the Lord of the Rings books, Bucky’s favorites.

You chat amicably with the older guy that owns the shop while you pay for your book and then leave, getting back into your car with Bucky still on your tail.

Next you go to a small bakery and buy a coffee and a cupcake. Thankfully for Bucky you’re too distracted by talking with the nice, old lady that owns the place to notice him buying his own coffee.

He follows you again as you cross the street to the park in front of the bakery and walk until you find a secluded spot. You sit down against a tree and continue peacefully reading your book under the summer sun while sipping your iced coffee.

Bucky sits on a bench nearby where he has a visual on you, but you can’t really see him unless you were really looking for him. But you’re so engrossed in reading that Bucky’s sure he could sit next to you and you wouldn’t even realize it.

He knows you get like that when you’re reading something that captures your attention, and the Harry Potter books always do, no matter how many times you’ve read them already.

Bucky always thought you looked so cute while reading. You make no attempt to hide your reactions and it amuses him. So he spends the next few hours just watching you read, watching your beautiful face shining in the sunlight as you frown and snort and laugh and pout as your eyes dart around the pages.

It’s actually relaxing, he thinks to himself. Is this what you do every year? Take a whole day just to read without the chaos of the Compound and nobody to bother you?

But why would you be so secretive about this? Reading for hours with a cup of coffee is something you’d done countless times in your room, on the roof, in the backyard of the Compound or even in the common room, never really bothered by the noise the team makes when you’re so into the words you’re reading.

So why do it in secret?

After a few hours, around lunch time, you finally come out of the book’s trance and gather your things before getting up.

Bucky frowns when you don’t get back into your car and follows you as you walk to a small family owned Italian restaurant that Bucky’s never been to but always wanted to try. He discreetly follows you in and takes a table in the back where you can’t see him.

He watches you interact with the owner, the waiter and even the cook comes out to talk to you. It’s clear that they all know you and it seems to Bucky like you’re pretty close to them even though he’s never even heard you mention this place before. When you’re done eating, Bucky sees you playfully fight with the owner that doesn’t want to let you pay so you leave a generous tip that amounts to more than your check is and the owner chuckles to himself when you wink as you walk out.

After lunch, which Bucky has to admit was pretty good, he follows you to a flower shop a couple of doors down and he’s surprised to see the owner greeting you like old friends. It looks like she was already anticipating your arrival, a bouquet of blue roses already on the counter and ready to go when you arrive. You chat with the older woman for a few minutes before paying and leaving the flower shop to go to your car.

It’s clear to Bucky by now that you obviously have a routine on your secret day, and everyone you see on this day knows it.

So why don’t the Avengers? 

You looked so comfortable with all the people you’ve met today, Bucky can’t help but think that maybe you don’t feel like you belong on the team.

You drive until you arrive at your destination and Bucky is both surprised and confused when you park in the parking lot of a cemetery, get out of your car and enter it.

He subtly follows you in, watching you walk past a few graves and it looks to him like you know your way around by how effortlessly you walk without needing to check the names, stopping at one almost at the end of the row you were in while Bucky keeps his distance, always making sure to stay out of sight.

He sees you take a deep breath before kneeling in front of the grave and putting down the bouquet of flowers in front of it.

“Hi, mom…” You wipe the dirt off the tombstone and tidy the flowers in front of it with what Bucky’s sure it’s a forced smile. “Happy birthday.”

You take out the cupcake you bought that Bucky now realizes you hadn’t eaten yet and he sees you put a small red birthday candle on it and light it, then you just look at it for a few seconds before you sigh and blow it out.

“So…” You say quietly, looking back at the tombstone and Bucky can see a tear falling down your cheek.

A piece of Bucky's heart breaks seeing you so vulnerable and hurting like this, but he stays put no matter how much he wants to be at your side right now.

Bucky stands there in complete silence, hearing everything you say, hanging on to every word. He hears you talk about everything that happened in the past year, he listens to you talk about missions and parties and holidays. He hears you talk about the whole team and his heart flutters a little when you mention his name too.

You talk for a while and, after he assumes you run out of new things to say, he sees you taking out the book you just bought today.

“So, this year we finally got to the half-blood prince.” You say with a small smile. “It’s our favorite, hadn’t read it in a while.”

Bucky sees you open it and go to the page you left the bookmark in.

“It took me longer than I thought to find your favorite quote, I have to admit.” You say with a small chuckle. “It’s like 400 pages in, don’t judge me.” 

Bucky chuckles quietly at your playfulness, even in this situation. He can’t help but find you adorable.

“It is the unknown we fear when we look upon death and darkness, nothing more.” You read the quote before closing the book and looking back at the grave. “That’s what you told me when I was scared of the dark…” You say quietly with a smile.

“And that’s what you told me before you…” You trail off, not being able to finish your sentence as tears start streaming down your cheeks but Bucky has a pretty good idea where you were going.

That's what she told you before she died, so you wouldn't be scared.

He’s more than surprised that he didn’t know your mother died, and he’s pretty sure the rest of the team doesn’t know either.

Admittedly, families are a very touchy subject for the Avengers.

But Bucky’s even more surprised to see you breaking down, something you’ve never done before. You’re cheery, you’re bubbly, you’re everyone’s little ray of sunshine.

And it breaks Bucky’s heart to know you’ve been falling apart when you’re by yourself all these years.

“I’m sorry I only come here once a year, I just…” You start, so quietly that Bucky’s glad he has enhanced hearing otherwise he's sure he wouldn't be able to hear you. “I miss you so much and I can’t… I can’t bear this.”

He sees you running your fingers gently over the tombstone as you take a deep, shaky breath, but you can’t stop crying.

“I’m trying to be the person you loved…” You say after a moment of silence. “Your little ray of sunshine.” You chuckle softly through the tears.

It makes sense to Bucky now why you always try to be there for everyone else. It’s how you’ve always been, apparently. Always making sure no one feels alone because deep down you feel the most alone, and you don’t want anyone else to feel that way.

You are my sunshine

Bucky’s thoughts get interrupted when he hears you quietly starting to sing. 

My only sunshine

Bucky knows this song. It’s a lullaby that he’s heard you sing once before.

Clint’s family visited him at the Compound and you offered to watch his kids so he and his wife could have a date night.

You probably didn’t realize he heard you, you probably thought you were alone and it’s not like he was spying on you. He just happened to pass by when you were in Clint’s room, trying to get the three kids to sleep by singing to them.

You make me happy, when skies are gray 

You take a breath before continuing but your voice wavers a little. 

You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you

Bucky can see you’re having trouble getting the words out, your voice almost breaking.

Please don’t take… My sunshine… Away

Before you can even get the last word out, you break down completely, burying your face in your hands while sobbing.

Bucky feels his heart break as he takes in your pain. He wishes there was some clear and simple solution to making this all better for you, but there's always been so much he doesn't understand about complex emotions like these. 

Right now, as he's watching how broken you are, though, he knows that he doesn't even care about understanding. He just wants to comfort you, to try and make it better...

Bucky comes to rest beside you, he kneels down to your level and places his hand gently on your shoulder. “Hey…” He says quietly.

His presence startles you and you go into defense mode, taking his hand on your shoulder and bending it, then using your grip on his arm to push him face down on the ground.

Bucky didn’t expect you to react so quickly and aggressively which makes it easier for you to catch him off-guard and pin him down.

“Goddammit, Bucky!” You say after you finally recognize him and let him go, getting up and scrambling back to put some distance between you and him while breathing heavily.

For a moment, Bucky is a little stunned. It's rare that anyone is able to get the jump on him like that. But then he snaps back to reality. He lets you make your distance while getting back to his feet and stands a few feet away from you.

“Did you fucking follow me?!” Your sadness is quickly forgotten and replaced with anger.

“I…” Bucky doesn’t know what to say. He knows he’s in the wrong here and he has no defense for himself when he knowingly violated your privacy. “I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“You didn’t what?!” You snap at him. “You didn’t understand what the meaning of privacy is?!”

Bucky doesn’t know what to say, he’s never seen you this angry at anyone that’s not an enemy and surely never at him.

“I’m sorry, okay?” He says quickly. “I’m sorry, I was just curious, I didn’t think this would be it, I thought…”

“You thought what?” You say when he trails off, clearly pissed as you cross your arms in front of your chest.

“I thought maybe you were a supervillain…” He jokes weakly, trying to make you laugh. “Or a stripper.”

His last word gets a surprised laugh out of you as you, fortunately, understand he’s just joking before you actually punch him in the face.

Bucky lets out a sigh of relief as he sees you laugh and then takes a tentative step towards you.

“I really am sorry…” He says quietly, reaching out to put his hand on your shoulder. “I know it was wrong of me to follow you, and I didn’t plan on bothering you at all, which doesn’t make what I did better,” He quickly adds when he sees you’re about to say something.

“But when I saw you crying, I just… I couldn’t help myself.” He trails his hand down your arm to your hand and takes it in his. “You’re always there for everybody, I don’t think it’s fair that you don’t let anybody be there for you.”

You look at him for a long moment, processing his words. Of course you know he’s right, you don’t let anybody be there for you, but you also never really believed anyone cared enough to.

But looking at Bucky right now, it feels like he really does want to be there for you...

So you let him.

You look back down at the grave, your hand still in his as you intertwine your fingers together.

“She died when I was 14.” You say quietly. “I only had her, so I was on my own after that…”

Bucky listens quietly, his eyes on your face as he sees the tears starting to gather in your eyeline again.

“A few years later, Natasha and Clint found me during a mission. They saw me knock out a dude that cornered me in an alley and they were impressed…” You have a faint smile at the memory although it’s clear you’re about to cry again. “They offered me a place in the SHIELD Academy and, after that, I don’t know… I wasn’t alone anymore.”

You look back at Bucky to find him looking at you intently, his gaze intent and unwavering. 

“Doll…” He says quietly while cupping your face with his free hand as he sees you holding back tears. “It’s okay to be vulnerable in front of the people you care about. You taught me that.”

His gentle words, the way he softly strokes your cheek and the way he’s looking at you so lovingly, it’s all too much for you and can’t hold back your tears anymore.

With a broken sob, you bury your face in Bucky’s chest and hug him tightly, clinging to him while he wraps his arms around you and hugs you just as tight, kissing the top of your head before nuzzling his face against your hair.

In this moment, while holding you in his arms, Bucky realizes it’s not like you don’t feel like you belong with the Avengers.

This is just something you feel like you have to go through on your own because you’ve always had to.

And he’ll be damned if he lets you go through it alone ever again.

Drabble

[soaps-mohawk]

I'm going to be honest

I'm having a genuinely hard time making this post. I've been fighting with it for a couple weeks now, but I think it's time I finally make it.

I'm not having fun on this blog anymore.

It sounds bad, but honestly, it kind of is.

I think a lot of it started from the very beginning with the precedence and expectations I put on myself. I've always tried to respond to every comment I get. Even from the beginning. It's just a polite thing to do since those who leave comments took the time to write out what they think of my fic, even if it's just a keysmash. I've always felt the need to thank those who leave comments or reblog my writing or (now that tumblr has it) replied to my fics. It worked fine before because none of my fics were particularly popular. Even my most popular fic (at that time) didn't get as much attention as CRCB has. I've never had a "big blog" before, nor a fic as popular as CRCB has gotten.

It was fine at first, responding to everyone, engaging with everyone. I was riding that high of omg so many people are reading and enjoying my fic! I've never had anything quite like this before.

Now...it just feels more like a chore. I set this precedence on this blog that I respond to everyone and I know a lot of people have said that they're surprised I responded to them and to everyone, and now I'm getting why a lot of writers don't. I'm exhausted. I feel like I've just been robotically saying the same thing over and over trying to respond to people now. I used to love seeing asks in my inbox and reblogs and replies but now? All I feel is dread because I have to respond to all of those.

Turning anon off was a big help. It lessened the sheer volume of asks I was getting a day. And while I do feel bad for all of my anons who prefer to stay anons, with everything that happened (the multiple incidents) with anon that kind of started to suck the joy out of everything. That paired with the obsessive need to constantly have my inbox cleared and make sure everyone gets a response...I can understand now too why big blogs will have 200+ asks in their inbox. It's hard and it's exhausting and I'm burning out.

First it was the fic that was burning me out. Things have gone on far longer than I planned and I just wasn't prepared for this fic to go on and for a while there it was dragging. I'll admit that. If I could go back, I'd speed up a few things, but it's done, it's posted there's no going back. I kind of hoped I would have the mental capacity to upload more than once a week too, but I just couldn't. I still can't.

I've come to dread posting chapters because I know I'm going to have to reply and respond to everyone. The only thing keeping me posting is the fact that we're in the part of the story I've been excited about since the beginning and also because I keep leaving everyone on cliffhangers and I love torturing y'all with all of them.

So that being said, this is in no way to shame anyone for interacting with me, anyone leaving comments or replies or sending asks. Don't feel bad about doing it please. I appreciate all of you that have engaged with me and it really means so much to me. Honestly, earlier this year, if I didn't have this fic and everyone on this blog, I might not have made it to now. It's been a really rough year and it's still going to be into next year. It's just getting to the point where I need a break.

I've needed a break for a long time. I thought taking days off the blog would help, and it did for a couple of weeks, but now even on the days I'm supposed to be on the blog and engaging, I just find myself queueing stuff up and just being offline most of the day still.

I'm tired. That's the best reason I can give. I'm tired and burned out on life and I'm tired and burned out on this blog.

So...I think I need a break. I need to not keep responding to every single reply and reblog every chapter. I need to not force myself to answer every ask right away, no matter how much I want to. I feel bad, but I know everyone would rather have me here and enjoying the blog than forcing myself to interact to the point where I'm dreading it and just robotically repeating myself over and over with every reply and answer and comment.

I won't be pausing the fic, I won't be not uploading. I'll still be posting chapters, I just might not be interacting as much as I have been. It's just putting such a mental strain on me still, even with anon off, even with days off. And with things getting busier for me, it's going to be too much to try and deal with irl stuff and write and try to be super active on the blog. There's going to come a point where I have to sacrifice the writing or the blog and I'd rather sacrifice the blog to keep myself sane, and also to keep trying to finally get this fic done. I love this fic, don't get me wrong, but I'm just burning out.

I'm already burned out in a lot of ways.

I was planning kinktober this year but honestly I'm considering not doing it because I know interaction is going to be insane and it's going to be a lot to keep up on. Plus trying to write that many fics is hard and I'm not sure I have the ability to do it. I have a few done but now I'm just like...is that something I want to do on top of irl stuff and CRCB.

There's just no joy in it anymore. It's not anyone's fault but mine. I put the pressure on myself, I held myself to that standard for this long despite the fact I knew it was draining me. I've tried to push through when I should have prioritized myself. I feel so guilty not responding to everyone. I feel so guilty being a day or two late responding to everyone.

I want to be here and interacting and responding to things but I just can't bring myself to anymore. It's no one's fault, and this is not a drag on anyone, or an attempt to make anyone feel bad or guilty for interacting or sending asks or anything. I'm just airing out the truth and saying what I need to say because I feel like I've been so robotic and lifeless with my responses these last couple weeks and I feel like I need to explain why. It's nothing anyone has done. It's my fault. It's 100% my fault.

Things have just gotten to be too much and it's my fault for forcing myself to be so active. The social battery has dropped into the negatives. I'm not a social person. I can only handle so much interaction and I've pushed so far beyond that, that things have gotten to this point. I want to be here and I want to have fun and I want to use this as an escape but I just don't feel that way about it anymore. It's a chore for me, a job, something I feel like I have to do and it's my fault that I feel that way. It's my own standards and expectations I set on myself, and my expectations on what I think my followers want and deserve and now I feel like I've gone on too long like this that I can't change things without hurting anyone's feelings. I don't want people to think I'm ignoring them in favor of others because I know there's writers out there that do that. They only respond to a certain group and ignore others that comment and reblog. I don't want to make anyone feel like I'm doing that to them and that's now led me to here.

I'm forcing it and I'm tired.

It's been hard these last few weeks. The life has just been draining and draining continuously. The joy and the love I have for this blog and my followers and the interactions and the fic. The last anon bullshit that happened was just kind of the last nail in the coffin so to speak. The straw that broke the camel's back. Things stopped being fun. It made me feel bad (and not in the guilty way, though that was a part of it) and I'm honestly just over it. I'm over the blog, I'm over interacting, I'm over life at this point. August is a hard month for me and every year it seems to get worse and worse. A lot of it is unrelated to anything online and I was going to make a post about it but honestly I just don't want to. Those that know, know. Those that don't...it doesn't matter.

I'm getting annoyed by the blog, I'm getting annoyed every time I look in my notifications and see an ask or a reply or a comment. I'm getting annoyed by some of my followers and that's not fair to you. Everyone always talks about how nice and kind and patient I am when I'm really not. I'm not the person I present myself to be on this blog, the way I mask myself so I can present myself as being a normal, kind human being. The mask is coming off because I'm so tired I can't keep it up anymore. It's happening here and it's happening in real life. I'm tired and I'm frustrated and I'm angry at a lot of things and the last thing I want is to start taking it out on my followers. You don't deserve that, especially when it's not your fault, it's nothing any of you have done. It's all me.

It's not you, it's me.

So for the sake of not burning this whole thing to the ground, I'm going to take a break. I'm not replying to everyone, I'm not responding to every reblog, I won't reply to every ask I get right away, if at all because sometimes I just don't have anything to say in response and I need to learn that's okay. It's nothing against you. It's not aimed at anyone specifically, I'm just trying to put myself first and stop things from escalating. I need a break and I'm going to do something selfish and I'm going to take it.

Don't apologize because it's not your fault. Don't apologize because you think you might have contributed to this because you didn't. It is no one's fault but my own.

I'm the one that needs to apologize to all of you because I've just not been myself because I've been forcing myself to be someone I'm not. I've been very unfair to a lot of people over the last seven months that this blog has been active and I've held a precedent that is not sustainable in the long run and made everyone believe that I was capable of maintaining that kind of interaction when I'm not.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry I've been putting everyone through this. I'm sorry I've been so detached and robotic and ingenuine. I'm sorry I led everyone to believe I'm someone I'm not. I'm sorry I've dragged this on this long that it's gotten to the point that I have to make this post.

I considered just disappearing but that wouldn't be fair to you either. I don't want to put you through that, so I'm pouring all of my thoughts out and making you read through this fucking novel of a post. If you've made it this far, then congrats I guess. Gold metals to you who bothered reading this far.

Anyway, all of that aside, I'll still be posting chapters. I'll have them scheduled and I'll probably come on and add links places to keep things current. I'll respond and reply and answer asks when I feel like it. You don't have to stop sending them, but just don't expect them to be responded to right away anymore. I'll probably still be here reblogging things I want and doing things when I feel like it.

I just need a few weeks to myself. Time I don't have to care about the blog at all and keeping up with it. Anon will remain off for the sake of keeping asshole trolls away, and also so I don't open tumblr and have 200 asks in my inbox after a week. Sorry to my anons but it's just the way it needs to be right now. Maybe once this break is over and I've dealt with irl stuff, I'll consider putting it back on. I just can't after everything I dealt with recently on anon.

It'll be the same on Ao3, for those that follow here and read there. Comments will probably sit for a while. They won't be answered right away anymore unless I get the energy to burn through them. Even then I won't try to answer them all at once like I did this last weekend.

I'll try to reblog something every day so y'all know I'm alright. I don't want y'all to panic and it's not fair to put you through that, especially those that might not see this or bother reading it. Those that follow simply for the fic and nothing else. I'm here, I'm just not...here.

This week's chapter is in the queue to be posted tomorrow as usual. Chapters will still come out as planned since I'm not stopping writing, just taking a break from the blog itself.

Thank you those of you who stuck through to the end here. I appreciate all of you so much. You have no idea. I'm sorry I let things get to this point and I'm sorry to anyone that I've gotten rude or snappy with because I couldn't be selfish and put myself first. I'm sorry to anyone that got a robotic, repeated response to something they were probably excited to share. I'm sorry I've been so unfair to everyone and I hope you can forgive me.

Take care and I'll talk to everyone when I have the energy to.

[nereidprinc3ss]

omg i'm obsessed with the idea of spencer and a university student and i looooved the one you wrote with reader struggling with finals (i relate so much </3) i'm not sure if you write requests or not (if not, then i'm sorry and please ignore this hahaha) but i would love to see more of their dynamic? maybe spencer for once arrives earlier from a case and goes to pick up reader from university as a surprise? i don't really know but i would love to see more 💗 thank you and i hope you have a good day!

AHHHH omg you have NO IDEA how excited I was to open my inbox and see a request!! i am absolutely obsessed w spencer x uni student too

i kind of took this and ran w it so its a little angsty and random LOLOL but here is (drumroll)

spencer picking up reader after you fail an exam (sorry lol) and you are NOT in a good mood but he loves you so its fine

Tears, partly from the bitter wind and partly from shame, blur your phone screen as you exit the lecture hall. Another missed call from Spencer. It’s the third one today—you've been ignoring them in an attempt to remain focused on the final that you just bombed. Part of you now wants to keep ignoring them out of sheer embarrassment. How can you admit to your super-genius boyfriend that you are a bona fide academic failure? Still, you don’t want him wondering about you while he should be working. Your numb fingers fumble with the phone as you try to call him back without running into anybody on your walk back to student housing. 

It doesn’t reach the second ring before he’s picking up. 

“Hey,” he sighs. “I was starting to worry.” 

“I’m sorry, I’ve been busy,” you exhale, cutting through some trees as you approach your building. “What’s up? How’s the case?” 

“Well... that’s actually what I’ve been calling about. We wrapped up this morning.” 

“What? But last night you said it would be at least three more days.” 

“Rare instance of me being wrong, I guess.” 

“So when are you flying back?” you ask, not wanting to get your hopes up. You know sometimes his team stays behind to help with processing a case. He doesn’t reply for a moment. “Spencer?” 

“I’m... thirteen minutes away from your school. Twelve.” 

Your brain short-circuits as you process his words, the cold metal of the door handle biting into your fingers as you stop dead in your tracks. 

“You--are you driving here right now?” 

“Yes,” he begins, sounding embarrassed, “I kept calling because I wanted to ask first, but I know you had your last final this morning and you were going to come over when I got back anyway so I thought you might want to come stay with me for a few extra days. You can say no, obviously—” 

Some of the icy despair melts in your chest. 

“Of course, I want to.” 

“Good,” he exhales a laugh. “It would have been awkward if you said no. Can you have a bag packed by the time I get there?” 

You’re speedwalking through the lobby now, hitting the up button for the elevator more times than is necessarily effective. 

“Drive faster.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

By the time you blindly shove enough clothing in a bag, text your roommate to let her know you’ll be gone for the rest of the week, and make it back outside, Spencer’s familiar vintage car is already pulling up to the curb. He doesn’t even bother cutting the engine—just puts it in park and gets out, rounding the vehicle as you close the distance between one another. His smile is brilliant, and though you don’t feel particularly deserving of it, it’s for you. 

“Hi,” you breathe shakily as he loops his arms around your waist. 

“Hi, pretty,” he says, already leaning down to kiss you. It’s soft and sweet over too quickly, but then he’s gently pulling you into him. You drop your bag and bury your face in his jacket, trying to right yourself before you go into an emotional tailspin. 

As usual, he smells like lavender, clove, resinous amber. It makes your head spin. Right away you feel yourself relaxing; feel your guard slipping, like it always does when he’s around. 

“I missed you.” The words are quiet to begin with, muffled further by the fabric of his coat, but you know he’ll hear you. 

“I missed you too,” he murmurs, stroking your hair. “Everything okay?” 

Why are you always surprised when a man who works for the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI accurately analyzes your behavior? 

“Just tired. Can we go home?” You pull back enough to look up at him, meeting his fond—and just a little concerned—gaze, averting your eyes before he has time to discern your... omission of truth. 

“Yeah, angel. Of course we can.” 

He opens the passenger side door for you, making sure you’re settled before tossing your bag in the back seat and circling around the back of the car. 

“Is that coffee?” You say as soon as he slides into the driver’s seat. His eyes dart down to the tumbler in the center cupholder as he buckles. 

“It’s from the jet. You won’t like it.” 

Despite his warning you reach over to grab it, taking a small sip as he puts the car into gear and pulls out of the parking lot. You make a sour face. Spencer glances over. 

“I told you it was bad.” 

You yawn, putting it back in the cupholder. “It was worth a shot.” 

Jazz music plays quietly from the speakers and the heat is blasting, but you’re too busy mentally rehashing question 37 to find it relaxing. 

“You didn’t get enough sleep last night,” he states. Not a question. Outside, the brick buildings of your campus roll by. You wonder if all the students rushing about on the sidewalks and side streets failed any of their finals.  

“Couldn’t,” you mumble flatly, picking at your nails.  

There’s a moment’s pause, and you’re imagining all the things you could have done differently. You’ve never failed a final before. If you’d just studied a little bit harder—if you’d stayed in instead of going out last weekend, if you weren’t so— 

“I’m going to ask you something, and I don’t think you’re going to like it,” Spencer says. 

“Mhm,” you hum, too afraid to speak because your eyes are already stinging again. Honestly, you’re surprised you made it this far without him getting the truth out of you. He offers his hand across the console as you slink down in your seat, and you take it, allowing him to run his thumb over yours in soothing lines. 

“How do you think your final went?” 

You bite the inside of your cheek, the bare branches of the trees outside blurring as you stare unseeingly. 

“Not good. Like, I definitely failed, not good. I'm an idiot.” 

“You absolutely are not an idiot.” 

“You didn’t see me taking the test, Spencer. I literally just sat there staring at it for ten minutes before I even answered one question. It was pathetic.” 

“Did you sleep at all last night?” 

The question takes you by surprise. Your frown deepens. 

“What? I don’t—that’s not—" 

“Just answer the question. Did you sleep at all last night?” 

“Yes!” 

“Don't lie to me.” 

“Fuck you! I slept for like two hours and had coffee this morning!”  

He squeezes your hand. 

“That’s why you failed.” 

The first tear traces its path down your cheek, composure overwhelmed by the confrontation. 

“I hate when you use your stupid interrogation tactics on me,” you say, voice wobbling. And then the crying begins in earnest. 

“I know, baby.” 

His hand moves to rub your back when you let go to cover your face. Torrential evidence of your frustration and utter exhaustion well over, slipping through your fingers despite your best efforts to stop them from coming at all. Having an emotional breakdown in the passenger seat of his car is far from how you’d wanted to greet Spencer’s surprise arrival, but you’re too worn out to mask your emotions—especially when he is so adept at drawing them to the surface. 

A moment passes like that before you take a shuddering breath, raising your head slightly and wiping your cheeks with your sleeves in vain. 

“I should have been able to do it. I just—it was like I was reading the questions and I knew that I should know the answers, but I couldn’t remember anything.” 

“You’re exhausted. Sleep deprivation has an immediate, devastating effect on cognitive functioning levels. My recall and processing speed start to fail when I’m tired, too. It has nothing to do with how smart you are.” 

It makes sense—but it doesn’t make you feel much better. You wanted to ace this exam. Of course, Spencer wouldn’t understand because school was as easy as breathing for him. He barely had to try to get three doctorates. It’s possible, you suppose, that dating a genius has put an academic chip on your shoulder—maybe you’ve set impossibly high standards for yourself.  

After a few minutes the crying finally ebbs, if only because you’re running into supply and demand problems with your tear ducts. You rub your weepy eyes on your shoulder, leaning against the cold window and watching DC go by. 

“You know, the final isn’t as important as you think it is. You’ll still pass the class.” 

“It’s symbolic,” you mumble, breath fogging up the glass. Spencer hums, still rubbing your back. 

“I know. I know it matters to you, but I don’t want you to think one bad grade is a reflection of who you are. Do you understand why it doesn’t make sense to measure something as abstract as intelligence by a metric as one dimensional as a standardized test?” 

“Yes.” 

“Good.” 

You shift in your seat, wiping your face with your sleeve and prompting Spencer to take your other hand once more. 

“Can your FBI friend hack the university database and give me an A?” you ask after a moment, sniffling. 

“Absolutely not.” 

“Pretty please?” 

“Nope.” 

“It’s like you don’t even love me,” you mutter, angling yourself away from him.  

He pulls your hand toward him and presses a kiss to the back of it. 

“I love you so much that I don’t want you to get expelled for academic dishonesty.” 

“It doesn’t matter anyway. I’ll probably just drop out.” 

You both know you’re just being overdramatic, but Spencer has a tendency to be sweet even when you don’t deserve it. 

“I’ll love you no matter what you do.” 

You blush, unable to come up with a sufficient reply. His eyes slide to you briefly and he smirks, clearly enjoying his ability to fluster you, and by extension, get you to shut up. 

“Eyes on the road, genius,” you grumble. But for the first time today you’re fighting a smile instead of tears. 

[rninies]

dodging his kisses ⟡ dan heng

synopsis dan heng needs his daily kisses from you but march has other plans ^_^

warnings fluff, gn!reader, idk if dan heng might be ooc or not but </3

NOTES finally back with a dan heng fic + creating a taglist for hsr fics!! send an ask to my inbox to be added :3

you and march were an inseparable duo ever since you first joined the astral express. with that, march was the source of mischief and the number one person you can come to whenever you wanted to prank dan heng.

which is how we got here today. a bright sunny morning, dan heng is still fast asleep while you and march were busy talking with each other in the kitchen while making breakfast.

"hey y/n," march starts, munching on a piece of bread. "why not try dodging his kisses for a day? i'll treat you to tasty food in xianzhou luofu if you manage to do this for at least until 3pm."

you raised your eyebrows, giving march a confused look. "so suddenly?"

"what? i wanna see dan heng get frustrated for once! i've been traveling with dan heng for, what, 3 months now and i have yet to see a single emotion other than a blank stare on his face!" march complains, suddenly eating her bread faster. "you're curious too, right? to see dan heng get visibly upset."

"well, yeah but i feel like i would crumble at the sight of dan heng getting sad because i dodged his kisses. march, you know how much he loves kissing me," you replied, playing around with the spoon on the table.

"okay, how about this," march says, leaning forward. "you do what i just said, and i will treat you to tasty food and buy you that outfit you were eyeing during one of our missions."

this piqued your interest. "how'd you know i wanted that outfit?"

march gives you a smug smile. "of course i know! i'm your best friend, after all. so, up for the bet?"

you thought about it for a few seconds before agreeing to it with a sigh at the end. "okay, fine. you better keep your promise or else." giving march an intimidating glare, you left the kitchen to go back to your room.

dan heng was still fast asleep on your bed (he slept in your room because he said his bed was uncomfortable — but you knew it was because he wanted to cuddle with you). you sat down on the empty space next to him and just silently admired him, a soft smile appearing on your face as you see how cozy and relaxed he looks.

dan heng suddenly stirs, opening his eyes slightly. "g'morning, love."

"morning, baby! sorry, did i wake you up?" you asked, caressing his hair.

he shakes his head. "no you didn't, don't worry." he sits up and was about to give you a kiss but you immediately dodged which surprises dan heng.

"breakfast is ready!" you exclaimed, pulling dan heng out from the bed. "you can shower after breakfast, mkay?"

dan heng nodded slowly, still not understanding why you dodged his usual morning kiss. "...okay." he subconsciously has a small pout on his face, and you honestly felt bad for doing so.

when you entered the kitchen, march was no longer there, and you figured it was because she didn't want to third-wheel.

"here you are," you let dan heng sit in his usual seat, grabbed his plate, and placed the food on top. dan heng takes a bit out of the food and you looked at him with expectant eyes. "does it taste good?"

"mhm," dan heng hums, giving you a small smile. "you didn't burn it this time either."

you blushed. "w-we don't talk about that! i told you i forgot i was cooking! i didn't burn it on purpose."

"whatever you say, love," dan heng was about to give you a kiss on the cheek but you were quick to dodge, promptly backing away from him. dan heng raises an eyebrow at your move and placed his utensils down. "okay, what's going on? why are you dodging my kisses?"

"h-huh? what are you talking about? i'm not dodging!" you stuttered out, looking away.

with his eyebrows still raised, he leans forward. "mm, are you sure about that?" and before he could land his surprise kiss, you quickly covered your mouth, which was honestly a bad move because even if dan heng was a bit oblivious to certain things, he isn't when it comes to your actions. "seriously, what is going on?"

you frowned, dropping your hands with a disappointed sigh. "you just ruined my prank. march promised to buy me an outfit i saw while we were in the luofu if i completed the prank."

dan heng blinks and laughed. "really? just for that outfit? you know i can buy it for you when we go back there."

"REALLY?!" you exclaimed, turning your whole body to face him. "are you serious?"

"yeah, of course i am. i'd buy everything for you." dan heng says with the softest smile on his face you swear your heart just melted.

"thank you thank you thank you!" you say with a really happy tone and hugged him tightly. dan heng's eyes widened in surprise, but he returns the hug just as tight, a smile still on his face.

you swear you could hear a camera shutter, but thought nothing of it.

[ki-yomii]

➥ pairing | jeon jungkook x f!reader ➥ word count | 1k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; dirty talk, pet names, established relationship, masturbation (solo m), panty kink, switch!jk, semi public sex, exhibitionism, cum play ➥ summary | request: was wondering if you could do another short chapter of what will happen if y/n chose to wear the underwear jungkook used to masturbate with🥲 ➥ notes | ask and ye shall receive lol. i changed the prompt a little but i hope you enjoy anon 💚 also sorry for any mistakes its 3 am 🥲

🤎 series masterlist | masterlist | inbox | AO3 🤎

"You might wanna hurry up," you warn, your lips teasing the corner of Jungkook's trembling mouth with every breathy word. "They're gonna start wondering where we are."

Bar bathrooms aren't the most discrete of places, certainly.

Not only could anyone walk in to find you with your pants tight around your thighs - hands stretching out the waistband of your panties to keep yourself exposed to your boyfriend - you've been gone for long enough, the other's are going to come looking.

You might have another ten to fifteen minutes if Jimin gets distracted by shots (even less if he doesn't).

Jungkook groans, low and throaty. "I'm trying, I -- fuck!"

A shiver rattles his frame. Sweat dapples his forehead, clings to the downy soft hair at his temples. One arm braces him against the stall, the other working furiously between his thighs to no avail.

"I don't think I can cum like this, baby."

You hum, dragging the tips of your fingers up the length of his exposed thigh. The muscles bunch, jumping beneath the whisper of your touch. His lashes flutter.

The intensity of his gaze when his eyes catch yours sends sparks of awareness ricocheting down your spine, blowtorch bright. His brows furrow low over blown pupils; the pretty amber of his irises a thin ring of glittering gold.

When his teeth tug on his lip ring, you want to take a nibble for yourself, attention drawn to the red bitten swell of his bottom lip as the metal dimples the flesh.

You swallow, rough.

So pretty like this, you think.

"Fuck, that's it," he hisses, voice reedy and thin with desire. He rolls his wrist, squeezing the swollen head of his cock between his fingers until a clear bead of pre-cum oozes from the tip. "Keep looking at me like that."

Your stomach swoops.

Liquid fire burns through your veins, settles into a blooming warmth that hooks behind your navel. Your thighs clench, and your hips twitch. You throb when he stares down at your pussy, transfixed by the sticky slick clinging to your folds and the pulse of your clit.

"I wish we were back at home," he says, tongue darting out to lick his lips. "Wanna fuck you so bad, baby."

You sigh in agreement, ducking forward to ghost a kiss over the corner of his jaw. "Please, Kook. We don't have much time. Give it to me. Wanna feel you cum on my pussy, wanna play with myself all wet and messy when we get home."

His fist slams against the stall door, his head rolling back between his shoulders as he grits his teeth. His other hand reaches down to massage his balls, a thumb digging into the base of his shaft.

"Shit!"

So, so close. And yet...

"If you don't now, you won't be able to for the rest of the night. You know how the boys are - we're gonna be out until at least 2 AM."

Jungkook huffs, “I know, trust me. I want to cum, but I’m telling you I can’t.”

It’s adorable how frustrated - how miserable - he looks as he works a hand over the length of his soaked cock. Movements short, rough; desperate strokes meant to get him off quick and dirty because you're running out of time.

"My poor baby," you say.

Heart hammering against your ribs in anticipation, you tilt your hips out. Your stance widens, allowing you to slip a hand between your thighs with ease. Fingers stroke down the length of your slit, tips dipping into your entrance to gather sticky arousal.

Jungkook watches you all the while, his breath stuttering from him in heavy pants. His eyes are twin black holes; dragging you in and refusing to let go. His hand's movements never paused, still working at his cock with long, heavy strokes.

"Here, let me help with that."

Reaching up, you take your soaked fingers and trace them along the curve of his mouth. Smear your slick into the chapped skin. Tease the tips along the soft velvet of his inner lip.

Your breath catches when you feel the flicker of his tongue lapping up your arousal, his gaze burning into yours.

"You taste so good."

Teeth nip at your fingers. When he speaks, his words slur together and his hand speeds up until his inked knuckles are a blur of movement.

"Hahh - wanna bend you over right now, eat you out until you're crying. Fuck you full. Make - make your pretty pussy squirt all over my cock."

"Yes," you breathe, touching your forehead to his. Your noses brush as you share space, the air heavy with arousal. "Just like that, baby. Now... don't you wanna cum all over me? Soak my panties and make me walk around the bar all messy just for you?"

"Oh fuck, oh fuck!"

When he finally falls over that edge, his mouth drops open on a silent whine. His eyes scrunch shut as the fingers of one hand curl over the top of the stall, the other a loose ring for him to fuck his hips into.

A full body shudder rolls through him.

Spurts of cum stripe along the top of your mound, dripping down over your throbbing clit to pool into the crotch of your panties. The fabric darkens, sticky and damp.

"That was so hot, baby." Jungkook runs his clean hand through his hair, fingers trembling. He's glassy eyed, dazed as he shoots you a dopey smile. "Haven't cum that hard in a while."

You smile, tossing him a wink while you pull the waistband of your panties up your hips. You moan when the fabric clings to your folds, pussy throbbing; a sticky friction you'll feel with every step.

You kiss his flushed cheek, and say with a wink, "Mm, now let's get back out there. Wouldn't want them thinking we were up to something, would we?"

His laugh echoes off the bathroom walls, following you out into the din of the bar, his body a line of heat at your back. When you get to the shared table, you're not fooling anyone.

[elitadream]

Hi guys~! ⛅👋

Long time no see! Much longer than I ever intended, in fact. Truth be told, I wanted to make a public post sooner, but I've had a lot to catch up on in terms of notifications and messages since logging back in a few days ago. I've also made some changes that I will address shortly, but first of all I wanted to thank those of you who have reached out with so much care and understanding during my absence. Adjusting has been a slow and fragile process for me -still is-, and I sadly haven't responded directly to everyone yet because of it, but I wanted to say how much I appreciate your patience and support nonetheless. 🥹 🙏

Long story short, I was gone for five months due to a huge burnout, then progressively found my spark again somewhere along the way and have since mostly recovered. It was my wonderful friend @drones-of-innocence who reached out to me outside of Tumblr, and her sense of initiative is largely the reason why I managed to make this post in a somewhat reasonable delay. 😅💖 With that said however, I must also mention that I've deleted a lot of stuff from my page and have removed most of my work from the public eye as well. This may seem quite drastic and frankly a little unsettling, but I assure you that it was a thoroughly considered and reasoned decision! The thing is that I was still getting lots of notes on these drawings everyday and… To put it simply, I didn't want that anymore. 🙇‍♀️ Experiencing popularity was very detrimental to me in the long run and I needed to put an end to it for the sake of my own wellbeing; at least for now.

Which brings me to my next point.

After mulling it over for a while, I've decided that I would not be returning as an active creator in the Mario community this time around. 👐 Making fanart for this franchise (with such a high and continuously maintained degree of involvement) had a lot to do with my health's decline and I've come to realize that I wanted to direct my focus elsewhere going forward. For that reason, there are things which I know will never be repeated again in the future, both in regards to my art and online presence in general, but that's alright. Things change, as they do and should. I'm looking forward to reuniting with folks and would be very happy to stay in touch with those of you who wish to message me privately. Like my lovely pal @istadris said, what matters most about any fandom are the friends you make in it. ☺️

And speaking of which-

@ody-and-fanatu That's so sweet of you, thank you! 💗 I'm glad you've enjoyed my contribution to the fandom. It was fun while it lasted! 💫 My visual ideas may be gone from my page, but most of my written posts and replies are still there for anyone who wants to revisit those at least, so there's that! And I'd also like to answer some of the asks I still have in my inbox at some point. Knowing that you hold my art in such high regard makes really happy! 🥰 Unfortunately, the other account that I have is reserved for my professional work and I prefer to keep them separate from one other, but the good thing is that I intend to go back to this blog occasionally. Hoping to see you around! Cheers! 🥂

@heiressofdoodles Thanks, I appreciate that! ✨ I'm honestly doing much better than I was earlier this Spring. Back then, I was running on empty and on the verge of crashing without even knowing it. Being in constant physical pain was one thing, but feeling mentally and emotionally drained on a daily basis was another entirely, and something had to be done. It took me a moment to really figure out what was wrong, but thankfully I realized very quickly what was causing it and applied the breaks with all my might. One of my main priorities now is to be more alert and respect my own boundaries to make sure that this never happens again. 🥲

@keakruiser Thank you. 🙏💐 I'm just glad to have found my footing again. Feels good to be able to create freely.^^ Hope you're doing well too!

Special thanks also to @pianokantzart, @jelly-fish-wishes, @katlyntheartist, @triniji and @wahooitsamee for their kind words. 🫂 Your graciousness and consideration means a lot to me. 💝

As for all the nice people who sent me anon comments and well wishes, I tried to summarize my thoughts as best I could in this update, but if there's anything else you'd like to say or know, don't hesitate to ask me anytime! Now that I feel like myself again, I think I'm gonna hang out on Tumblr for a little bit. I'll be excited to see what you guys have been up to in the meantime! 🤗 Wishing you all a very good day and pleasant Fall. 🍂

-elita 🌸

[modmad]

Hey Mod, I don't know what's going on that hurt you, I feel like I missed something that's happened, but I can tell from what I did see that it didn't just hurt you, but scared you and made you feel a Lot of doubt. I've also seen a lot of messages pouring in with support, and I want to share mine.

I have hypermobile type EDS, fibromyalgia, and a whole bucket's worth of faulty wiring in my brain. And I've always had stories to tell but I never felt I was good enough to share them. If it's because I can't focus enough to get through nanowrimo, or because I can't manage the focus and time towards drawing as a hobby, or the fact that an excessive amount of either for me leads to my hands wanting to shut down. But you? You *inspire* me. Your stories, all the ones I've seen, read, experienced in some way or another, they're so good. And you're open and honest with your fans about your own health, and of course, we support you and always would rather you rest and feel as best you can, instead of pushing out something and working yourself too hard. But all of this is to say that. I think I would have given up on my own stories if I hadn't found you and yours.

I hope whatever is going on sorts itself out, I hope you're able to keep telling your stories. At your own pace, in your own way. I think you deserve to be happy. If there's anything we (your fans, especially those of us too awkward to come off anon, whoops,) can do, to help in some way? Even if it's silly videos or cute cat pictures or whatever it is that could just help you smile. We're here. We love you.

woof. I woke up to so many messages I can't even read them all in one go I'm getting too emotional- I do feel I owe an explanation so I'll explain what happened under the cut but all you guys need to know is I'm okay, I got through it, I love you, and you're so important to me and I'm so grateful for all the messages that have asked me to stay.

tw for suicidal thoughts and all that

yeah so I have the bad morning of all mornings: was introduced to the fact there's this one character (Mr Puzzles) on a very popular youtube that. resembles RGB. incredibly strongly. like. I don't want to link to it just look if you want to. Anyway at the time I thought it had just dropped (seems to have been around for 6 months actually), and having commented on it I immediately got an inbox full of hate mail.

My website, meanwhile, had locked both me and my web designer out of it, and- already in a bad state of mind- I went into full on panic/paranoid spiral of 'they have hacked it, and they are going to delete any proof that I was here before them.' This of course wasn't true, and we have since recalimed control of the site (don't know what happened there but hey. it's fine???? haha. ha.)

On top of this my father has terminal cancer of the pancreas, which is horrible for everyone already but it means that- at some point this year- I am going to be the only person with an active income in my house. I am disabled, do not make a lot of money, and the cost of living is skyrocketing. Combine that with months of Despair at the world right now, with the multiple wars, genocide, corruption and AI and the loss of control any of us have over our IP or lives and I just decided it was time to end it all.

I somehow remembered this was a bad idea to act on immediately (hard during a period of entirely irrational thought) and instead went for a very long walk, crossed the bridge I could have jumped off and during that I came out of the worst of it. I then came back home to so much love online I felt deeply ashamed for ever contemplating it, and I cried a lot. My nose is still puffy and now my feet hurt! lmao

Anyway. Yeah. There's your context. I am not going to stop hoping, making, or living. I am prone to moments of weakness and this was one of the worst of them and I am still here, thanks in a large part to all of you. I might need you in the future to defend me against this, or people who take our ideas, but I hope you know that I will do the same for you. We need each other, and to be there for you I need to be here at all.

also fuck Mr Puzzles

[conspiring-limabean]

EDIT: This post was made about the first wave of basic barebone copy-and-paste scams. It is now outdated when it comes to identifying REAL, VETTED gofundmes that exist

If someone sends you an ask asking for help in Gaza, look for vetting done by a real person (do NOT trust ones that simply claim they are vetted if you don’t SEE the vetting), and check that their gofundme address isn’t clearly publicly listed in some other place. Then reblog their post. And block writing-prompt-s or anyone else that runs actual genocide survivors off the platform with poorly researched scam accusations

original post:

so apparently the tumblr donation scam farms are moving in on Palestine; this includes both slapping basic phrases like "Free Palestine" into their blog headers, but also some of them go so far as to claim they are Palestinian refugees who need donations.

Here is your routine reminder that whenever you receive an ask in your inbox requesting donations, check their ass. 19 times out of 20 it'll be a brand new blog who reblogged a few posts to seem older than they are, is sending out spam asks to random blogs, and will be deleted in a few days once they've already scammed people.

Check their blog's age by trying to scroll to the bottom and checking the post timestamps. Turn on post timestamps by going to Settings > General Settings > Dashboard Preferences. On any device, you can also see when a post was made by clicking on the 3 dots at the top right of it. Scam blogs reblog an amount of posts to try to seem like they aren't brand new and pretend to have older accounts, and it’s very successful against people who don’t scroll down enough.

Check the location and area code of a PayPal link where/if it says something like country.x=xx. The xx will be a country code. Most tumblr donation scams are for some reason in the Philippines and will have the code PH. No I am not saying to distrust anyone in the Philippines who needs donations, but if a brand new blog is claiming to be a refugee in the Middle East but their PayPal link is from halfway across the world, then well...

Reverse-image search any of the images they use and find if it was stolen somewhere. Remember that these images are often edited to prevent people from easily doing this, and this is not reliable but can be an easy sign if successful

Be careful with blogs that request people send donations through "Friends and Family" on PayPal because you cannot refund money sent in this manner. This isn’t a dealbreaker as many regular users also request this to avoid fines, but is an addendum to scam blogs when enough other red flags are raised. It isn’t unusual for them to insist on receiving money through FaF to the point that some will refund money not sent through that manner to prevent accountability

Follow scam busting blogs like Kyra45 that might pull up evidence you otherwise would not have access to. I guess I'm going to start bringing back my habit of recording the exact paypal addresses that scam blogs use which has sometimes been the only evidence of a new donation blog being a scam, and no one would know this if I hadn't been tracking them

It is disgusting that people would take advantage of an ongoing genocide for their own gain. Please remember to keep an eye out for yourself and the people you follow reblogging suspicious donation posts trying to steal aid from people undergoing a tragedy

[dfortrafalgar]

Catch Up

Law x Fem Reader

You might have met your soulmate while intoxicated, making out with him in a dark broom closet. But the only thing you left with was his first name.

Warnings: MATURE CONTENT, MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED!!!, reader is meant to be over 21, bar crawl setting and responsible alcohol consumption

--

A/N- I'm still (still!) working on requests, and posting un-posted fics from my google drive in the meantime. I'm hoping to have my inbox open once again at the end of the month, or perhaps early June, now that my work/life balance is adjusting properly since starting my new job! I'm really sorry to those who have been hoping for consistent fics from me, i really wish i could write as much as i was recently but i'm still trying really hard!

[Also posted on AO3]

Chapter 1

[Next]

It was hard to convince yourself that you weren’t just the slightest bit tipsy as you kept your head lowered and channeled all of your focus into making sure your feet walked in a linear path.  How many bars had you gone to again?  Four?  Five, maybe?  Your body swayed slightly with your gait as your mind scrambled to catch up with the last drink that you had.  It was only a cocktail, as all your other drinks from your bar crawl were.  Was it mango-flavored?  What street were you even on now?  You blindly followed the two women in front of you whose voices were gleefully mocking the words you had said some hours before the sun had gone down.

“‘I’m not a lightweight, never have been!’” chided Ikkaku, eyes crinkled in a smile as she poked fun at your previous confident statement.  She tossed a glance over her shoulder where you walked only a few steps behind.

“I’m not a lightweight!  My voice isn’t even slurring yet!” you fought back, increasing your speed to keep pace with your best friends.

“And what was the last drink you had?” Nami asked, pulling her phone out of her bra to check her map.

“A mango margarita,” you confirmed.  “With a little lime wedge and a mint leaf for a garnish.  The place was called Elgia Lounge and it was on–”

“Okay, okay, you’re not drunk!  We surrender!” laughed Ikkaku.  “I’m glad you’re not, though, because this next place apparently has some of the best pineapple daiquiris in the entire city.”

Your mouth started watering immediately at the thought.  You were always a sucker for sweet cocktails, arguably some of the most dangerous drinks due to the way the tangy, sour mixers completely blocked the taste of any alcohol added.  Sometimes, it was impossible to tell if there even was alcohol in the glass, but with the way you walked, there was obviously more than enough from your previous locations.  You hadn’t quite passed the threshold into drunk territory yet, but the image of a sweet and tart pineapple daiquiri might just be the thing to completely inebriate you.

Nami stopped dead in her tracks and looked towards the congested buildings immediately to your right side, scanning the signposts in the dark and looking for a specific one.  Tucked in between two sports bars, with absolutely zero signage on the graffiti-covered door, the red-head nodded her head toward the unmarked entrance.  “This is it.”

“Nami, you’re going to get us killed,” Ikkaku murmured, eyes squinting at the door to spot any indication that this was indeed a speakeasy and not a hidden trap house.  

“Am not, I swear this is the place!”

The three of you approached the steel door, Nami confidently being the one to ring the doorbell that was attached to a small intercom system.  It took a few breathless moments of mild worry before a voice filled with static came through the speaker.

“Password?”

You and Ikkaku were both blindsided as Nami crossed her arms over her chest and loudly proclaimed, “Suck my big, fat cock.”

Another few seconds of silence followed before the lock on the door clicked open and the same voice from before spoke, “Come in.”

“What the fuck,” you muttered in shock.

“Told you it was legit!” Nami chided with a giggle.

“A place that makes you say, ‘Suck my big, fat cock,’ as a password doesn’t seem very legit to me, but I’ll take your word for it,” Ikkaku mused as she followed Nami through the door and down a flight of stairs only illuminated with blue and pink fluorescent lights.

Graffiti completely covered the entire interior of the stairwell, leaving no part of concrete untouched from colorful ink.  Even the ceiling above you was marked in elaborate, incomprehensible swirls and zags of paint of all different colors, made even more colorful in the odd lighting.  The stairwell seemed to last forever as you followed your two friends down into the underground, clutching the steel railing for dear life as your tipsy vertigo fought with your ability to walk down a flight of steps.  You finally reached the bottom to another door, this time lined with a soft, cushiony leather fabric.  Nami pulled open the door and greeted a black-clad man standing in the small room directly behind it.

“IDs,” he grumbled.  Straight to the point.

The three of you fumbled through your purses for your driver’s licenses before handing each of them over to the man for a review.  He clicked on a pocket flashlight, scanning each card, handing them back to you with a hum.  “Enjoy the night, ladies.”  His large hand pushed open another door that was hidden in the wall itself.

The room that was opened to you was unlike any of the other bars you had entered, both during your current crawl and in your entire adult life previous.  The room was cloaked in a sexy blue and pink lighting, decorative art of pin-up models framed on the walls along with retro-inspired neon signs and liquor branding.  Groups of people filled the tables nearby, laughing and drinking through the booming music that flowed freely through the space.  It was crowded, almost overwhelmingly so, but you squeezed close to Ikkaku’s back as you pushed your way through the other patrons to get to the bar.  Your hand accidentally grabbed Ikkaku’s ass as her shoulder bumped into your breast, both of you wheezing out surprised laughter.

You popped through the stream of people to the bar which was, unsurprisingly, completely filled with every seat taken.  Two men worked tirelessly behind the counter, filling shakers with liquor and mixers, bitters and juices.  A bin of assorted fruits sat open in front of patrons, allowing the bartenders to grab their garnishes quickly and decorate their glasses with expert precision before passing them off to elated, tipsy customers.  You, Nami, and Ikkaku squeezed yourselves into the far corner of the bar, between the counter and a booth of patrons.  

“At least we can stand here!  It’s a bit crowded but it’ll do for now,” the red-head yelled through the shaking stereo that sat nearby.  

One of the two bartenders waved his hand in the air to attract your attention.  Long, spikey auburn hair framed a sharp face and crooked nose.  You were confused at the angular sunglasses that covered his eyes, but paid no mind in the end.  His voice cut through the music, but was clearly worn after a long night of screaming at people because of the volume.  “What can I get for you, ladies?”

Nami handed the man her credit card, explaining that she was going to close out after one drink for each of them, which he gladly accepted and placed in a secure box by the register.  Your eyes frantically scanned the illuminated menu above the bar, the raunchy, debauched names of the signature cocktails revealing absolutely nothing about their ingredients.  

“What the hell is a ‘Fuck Me Sideways?’” you shouted towards your friends.  

The man behind the counter cackled.  “That’s a pineapple daiquiri!  It’s sour as fuck, hence the name!”

Your mind flashed back to your conversation from the street, mouth once again salivating at the thought of the tangy, delicious concoction.  “I’ll get that please!”

The man memorized your three orders and immediately got to work.  You watched idly as he nudged his coworker’s shoulder and alerted him of the order so he could help with making your drinks.  It was then that your eyes trailed to said coworker.

All sound in the room faded into a muffled nothingness as your eyes narrowed on the other bartender, pupils dilating.  Toned, tanned arms and hands were littered in elaborate, grungy tattoos, and you could tell with the way his worn t-shirt dipped below his collarbones that he had another large piece on his chest, defining his pectorals even from beneath his clothing.  His jawline was sharp, a small goatee defining his chin, black sideburns framing his perfect face as intense, golden eyes focused on his work.   His tongue poked out from his thick lips slightly, revealing a tiny glimpse of a stud pierced through the muscle, and giving his intimidating appearance a sudden adorable qualm as long, deft fingers poured shots of liquor into his metal shaker cup.

You barely noticed the fingers snapping in your face.

“Hey, Earth to Apollo!  Can you read me?” Ikkaku hollered directly in your ear, shaking you out of your trance.

You jumped in surprise, music fading back into your consciousness as the sound of Nami’s laughter brought you firmly back to reality.

“Looks like someone’s got the hots for the emo bartender over there!” sang the red-head, leaning against the wall and making a very lewd gesture with her hands.

You grumbled.  “Do not!”

“Whatever you say, princess,” Ikkaku chuckled in response.  “He is pretty cute… if you don’t make a move I might.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” you growled, making your best friends roar in laughter.  A rush of blood filled your face with an embarrassed heat.  “He probably already has a partner, a guy as hot as him can’t possibly be single.”

“There’s only one way to find that out, and it’s to talk to him,” lectured Nami.  “Come on, you’re on a bar crawl, you’re drunk, you’re hot, your pants make your ass look fucking amazing.  I would look the other way if you dragged that hunk to the bathrooms.”

“Nami!  Shut up!” you screamed, thoroughly embarrassed now.  It’s not like anyone could hear your conversation amongst the intense volume of the room, but the subject matter still made you flush from your tailbone to the crown of your head.

The conversation dissipated into enthusiasm about the location, the three of you taking note of the sex-positive decor and how good the playlist was.  Every once in a while, your eyes would dart back to the raven-haired man with his eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration as he filtered a cocktail through the metal strainer and into a slim, iced glass.  He reached forward into his box of garnishes, procuring a thin lime wedge and expertly slicing it down the middle to perch it on the rim of the glass.  As you were staring at him, his eyes darted up directly meeting yours.  Your face flushed red hot with embarrassment, but before you could yank your gaze away, he flashed you a grin that had your legs quivering.  He held up the drink.  It was your’s.

You pulled away from Nami and Ikkaku who hardly noticed your movement as you approached the bar and reached between two peoples’ shoulders to grab your cocktail from the man who kept his deep, golden eyes on your form the entire time.  An elated, cold sweat ran up your spine and you flashed him as good of a smile as you could through your ceaseless embarrassment that he had caught you staring.

Once the drink was in your hands, he tossed you a wink.

You hobbled back toward Nami and Ikkaku who were already holding their own orders, sipping idly through their conversation.

“You look like you got spooked by a ghost or something!” giggled Ikkaku, squeezing your left cheek with her fingers.

“Ikka, that hot emo bartender gave her her daiquiri!” Nami replied for you, making the curly-haired girl gasp in excitement.

“Did he say anything?  Did you say anything?”  The questions rolled off of her tongue faster than your heart rate.

“He just winked at me, and smiled, I guess,” you stated through nervous breaths.  

Your best friends dragged you into the conversation that had developed in the short time you were away getting your drink, but when you tossed another glance over your shoulder, you once again locked with golden eyes that froze your feet to the ground.

—

You weren’t exactly sure how much time had passed over all, but it couldn’t have been more than an hour.  You and your friends finished your drinks, closed out your tab, and proceeded to the dance floor to burn off energy under the neon disco lights and pounding music.  You let your mind stray away from the bartender’s piercing glare while you moved your hips against Nami’s, the two of you poking fun at Ikkaku from afar as she found herself in an awkward dance with a random man who was far from her type (that is to say: not a woman).  The room was dipping slightly around you, the sweet pineapple daiquiri definitely making you tipsier than you wanted to be.  You didn’t have to pee at that moment, but you figured it would be worth a shot to sober you up even just slightly.  With a nudge against Nami’s shoulder, you pointed to the bathroom, mouthing your intentions, and waved to her as you walked toward the back of the room through the sea of happy, alcohol-fueled patrons.

The bathroom was situated behind the bar past a few rows of small booth tables, and the further you walked from the center of the lounge the more the music faded to a much more tolerable volume.  The walls remained lined with graffiti, which you trailed with your eyes as you walked, marveling at the tantalizing swirls of colors and personalized messages and names memorialized forever on the concrete.  You finally rounded the corner into the small corridor where the two single bathrooms were found, along with a single broom closet that was kept closed with a padlock.  Your feet blindly led you towards one of the bathroom doors that was cracked open.

“You know, those pants make your ass look phenomenal.”

A husky voice stopped you in your tracks.  A million thoughts rushed through your mind within an instant.  Who was talking to you?  Did you get followed to the bathroom?  Were you being watched?  Were you in danger?  Should you have brought your purse with you instead of leaving it with Nami?  Were you going to make a run for it?

Fighting against your flight, you turned around to face the voice that cut through the muffled music.

Intense, golden eyes, raven-black hair, and a sly, toothy smirk.

“Sorry if I scared you, I promise I didn’t follow you back here,” he added, his face morphing from a flirtatious, mischievous expression into a more apologetic one.  “I had to take a piss, too.”

“Oh, it’s no problem, really!” you replied, inwardly wincing at how your voice involuntarily quivered with excited anxiety.  The Hot Emo Bartender was standing in front of you.  Had he just complimented your ass?  “And, uhm, thank you!  For my ass.  I mean, for saying I look good.  Or, phenomenal, I think?”  You pinched your lips shut forcing yourself to cease your drunken rambling, but your reaction only made the man’s mouth curl into a grin as a laugh bubbled out of his throat.

“Go sober up in there, princess, then we’ll talk.  I’ll wait for you out here.”  The man ended his sentence by entering the second unoccupied bathroom, closing and locking the door behind him.

You quickly did the same.  The bathroom had the exact same aesthetic and lighting as the rest of the establishment, the mirror completely covered in graffiti and leaving little room to view your current appearance after you finished your business.  You gazed through the dried ink, fixing your hair with your fingers and pushing your boobs into place under your top, blowing an encouraging huff out of your mouth before washing your hands, drying them, and exiting the bathroom into the corridor once more.

The man had indeed waited for you, leaning nonchalantly against the wall with one leg up checking his phone.  He was tall, much taller than you, and his legs were long and skinny, complemented beautifully by his tight, bespeckled jeans.  The spots were definitely an odd aesthetic choice in your mind, but you couldn’t complain.  Somehow, they suited his vibe perfectly.  He picked his head up and looked you up and down, that charming, mischievous grin once again returning to his lips.

“Feel better?”

“Absolutely, I didn’t think you’d actually wait out here,” you confirmed.  Somehow, your voice had evened out from the anxious drunken stupor you sported before.  Maybe pissing out the alcohol did have its merits.

“Good, I wanted to talk to you but needed to see if you were too drunk first.  Those pineapple daiquiris are really something,” he explained.

You were very quickly gaining more comfort in his presence, isolated from the club beyond the corridor in the dim lighting that accentuated his cheekbones and gave him the sexiest aura you had ever seen.  You swallowed your pounding heart and returned his grin.

“Talk to me?  Out of everyone here?” you questioned, putting on your charm.

“I don’t just talk to any random bar patron,” he responded.  “In fact, I barely talk to anyone here at all.  But how could I pass up such an alluring face?”  He stepped across the corridor to you, reaching out a hand that smelled like the generic brand soap in the bathroom.  His callouses tickled the fine hairs of your cheek and chin.

“And ass?” you asked innocently, clearly enjoying the little game you two had initiated.

“And ass,” he repeated.  “Though…” his eyes trailed up and down your body from his closer angle, eating you up through your clothes.  “You’re definitely the most stunning girl I’ve ever seen, all around.”  His golden eyes met yours once more.  “You have beautiful eyes.”

He had done it now.  You were beyond flustered, convinced that your entire body was glowing red and steaming like a geyser from your anticipation and embarrassment at his tender compliments.  A part of you still wasn’t convinced that he wasn’t the type to talk up every woman at the bar, but Nami’s words from prior bounced through your skull.  You were drunk, you were hot, and damn it, your pants did make your ass look good!  You only live once, right?

With alcohol and adrenaline fueled courage you never experienced before, you closed the narrow gap between your bodies and pressed your lips against his, standing on your toes and grasping his shoulders to steady yourself.  The anxious voice in your head told you he was going to push you away, call you some horrible slur and leave you in the dust to regret every choice you made leading up to that moment.

You were very pleasantly surprised when his lanky arms looped around your waist, clutching you close to his sturdy form as he moved his lips against yours.  You weren’t an expert kisser by any means, but something about the way his mouth moved told you that he wasn’t actually used to doing this, more of a smooth-talker than a do-er.  He was reluctant to open his mouth to allocate for your tongue, instead simply pursing and unpursing his lips against yours.  The feeling made you pull away, failing to suppress the giggle that followed.

Before you had the chance to make any snide, lighthearted comment, however, a tattooed hand traveled down your arm and gripped your hand, dragging you toward the broom closet.  He fiddled with the padlock on the door without letting you go, shoving open the entrance with his shoulder and pulling you inside.  The door slammed behind you, now almost completely muffling the music blaring from within the club.  The two of you were now free from prying eyes that might wander into the corridor to use the bathroom, completely unaware of the actions taking place just one door away.

In the stark darkness of the closet, the man’s hands found the collar of your shirt and pulled it down as best as he could, encouraging you to slip your arms out and pull it over your head.  His lips pecked at your jaw, your chin, your neck, and the dip of your breast as you unhooked your bra and let it flop to the floor.  Your own hands grasped his ratty t-shirt and yanked it over his head, its loose fit making undressing his torso much easier.  Your fingers now had access to his bare skin, your breath hitching in your throat as you blindly felt around firm abdominal muscles that met a lean yet supple chest and broad shoulders.  Even through the lack of light you could tell just how attractive this man was.  A smattering of coarse hairs covered his chest and stomach, but for the most part he was well trimmed, save for the patch of hair that you felt at his naval.  You heard his breath catch in his throat as your fingers followed the dip of his pelvic bone and trailed along the belt of his jeans.

“Wait,” his airy voice muttered.  “I need to know your name.”

You laughed, divulging your information.  You felt his lips smile against the skin of your neck.

“I’m Law,” he added.

“Law…” you exhaled his name on your soft, aroused breath.  “Can you fuck me, Law?”

A low groan rumbled through Law’s throat as his hands now played at your own waistband.  “Anything for you, princess.”

[queer-n-here]

back at it again at krispy kreme

so to start off, this request is very wild and specific and out of nowhere and will most likely be the only of its kind. I would suggest watching season 1 and 2 recap videos of Girl From Nowhere. NOW TO THE REQUEST

with a yandere reader (who is basically like nanno from the show i mentioned earlier) who stalks character of your choice 24/7, constantly tormenting them and their friends (who keep killing reader but reader just keeps coming back) until the character is worn down to where they are stockholm syndromed by reader, and reader finally claims what is his ♡

~🕷

Okay y'all, this is actually 🕸️ annon, bro wrote 🕷️ on accident again.

Also, bruv, this bomb ASS request has been sitting in my inbox for a while, and I must say, I'm sorry I didn't do it sooner. I was kind of running away from it without realising I was.

Q: Why were you running away?

A: Because I didn't wanna ruin it in a hurry 😭 I wanted to do it justice. Now, I will! (Hopefully)

Contents: Chuuya x Yandere!Stalker!Reader

Warnings: No smut, but has mentions of masturbation, stalking, obsessive tendencies, mentions of murder, blood, and more, Stockholm Syndrome.

You had been watching him for the longest time.

Chuuya Nakahara.

He was so fucking beautiful, you never wanted to take your eyes off of him. So you followed him around, setting your lackeys everywhere around him to report to you with even the minutest details of his days.

You followed him around yourself, too. Only you were allowed to watch from his bathroom ventilator as he showered or changed. Only you were permitted to peek through that one window in his bedroom and watch as he pushed a lucky dildo deeper and deeper into his ass, cock throbbing and twitching with want. Oh, the things you'd do to be that bit of silicon that slid in and out of his asshole as he trembled on the bed, huffing and panting.

Fuck, you were obsessed with him.

And you knew full well.

You were starting to get desperate, too. Just sneaking into his house when he wasn't there to wrap his boxers around your cock and jerk off wasn't enough anymore. So after hiding in the dark for a while, you decided to leave behinds hints.

The first one ever was the splatter of cum you'd left on his bed sheets. It had been a mistake, but even as you raised a hand to pull the sheets off the bed and hide the evidence, you couldn't help but pause.

Chuuya should know how much you loved him. He should know who owned him.

Thus, you left the stains right as they were.

That night, Chuuya returned from a hefty mission, tired and ready to collapse into bed. The sight of the half-dried cum stopped him.

"What the fuck?!"

You, watching from behind the bushes next to his bedroom window, smirked. Fuck yes.

Later, you became more and more bold. You starting leaving behind more proof of your presence, leaving behind sappy messages on his walls with spray paint, dropping photos of him that you'd taken in secret. You watched him break down from his window.

You chased him into a corner, forcing him to ask Mori for help. Even the Port Mafia had nothing on you, though. You continued leaving behind dirty underwear, condoms filled with your cum and stuff like that around his house.

Chuuya changed places, and you followed. He couldn't get rid of you no matter how much he tried, only running pathetically around with you right at his heels.

It was fun, but only for a few months.

At one point, only watching him from a distance had been enough for you. Now, you wanted him to see you, know you, fear you, want you. You were growing more and more greedy, you knew. And yet you couldn't stop yourself.

So one day, you showed Chuuya your face. You left behind a video clip for him, a video of you jerking off to his photos. Chuuya decided, enough is enough.

He decided to put his pride down and asked for Dazai to help. The latter might be a big piece of shit and a pain in the ass, but he was smart when it came to stuff like this. And so Dazai was involved.

You knew it, and Dazai knew that you knew you knew. It was a fun game of pretending to hide while both of you knew of each other's presence.

It wasn't long before Dazai caught you, though. You were pleasantly surprised by his wit. You two fought, and Dazai managed to kill you. As he turned around, thinking about teasing Chuuya about owing him for the rest of his life, he saw you standing beside him instead. His eyed widened, and he stepped back slightly.

"...How?" Was the only thing Dazai, the smartest man in the Port Mafia, could say.

You chuckled. "Pity you won't be able to find out."

And before he'd known it, he was on the ground, knocked out. You couldn't help but tread on his hands as you passed him a little. He got to be around Chuuya everyday, and here you were, working so hard every time you so much as wanted to see his face. Wasn't it unfair?

Either way, after that day, the Port Mafia increased security around Chuuya. If it had been anyone else, Mori would've just kicked them out, but this was Chuuya, one half of Twin Dark.

From then on, you had to be slightly more careful. But you couldn't control your greed either. You couldn't stop wanting him to see you in person, not just in the photos and videos that you left behind.

And so, one evening Chuuya came back home to find all the guards dead on his porch steps. His eyes widened, and he took a small step back.

The front door was open.

He wanted to run away, wanted to go back to the Port Mafia headquarters and report to Mori, but he thought he saw a shadow flash past the door in the house. He hesitated.

Was it rational for him to not run away? No. It was perhaps the craziest decision he'd ever made in his entire life. But he couldn't help but think internally, Fuck it, if he wanted to harm me, I wouldn't have been alive all this while.

And so Chuuya stepped over the corpses that decorated his front door, pushed open the door more, and stepped in.

You were sitting right there, on his couch, wiping your bloody hands with a handkerchief. You looked up when he entered.

And gods, he was even more gorgeous up close like this. You were used to watching him from afar, or through the cameras that you'd placed in his house, but never face-to-face. Fuck, you almost pounced on him right then.

As for Chuuya, he didn't know what to do. His heart was pounding so fast against his ribcage he was scared it'd stop for good. His palms were sweaty even as he fisted his hands, and his breathing was slightly laboured.

You stood up from the couch, walking closer to him. Somehow, he did not back away.

"Chuuya,"

The way you said his name, gods, what were you? Some sort of a siren? But sirens were supposed to sing, not stand in his house covered in blood and smile at him like he was the most precious thing in the world.

"You're home." You raised a hand, caressing his cheek, leaving a smearing some of the blood on your hand against his pale skin. "Did you have dinner?"

"W-why are you doing this?" Chuuya managed to choke out, fuelled by his last dreg of rationality.

His eyes were red.

"Doing what, baby?" You cooed, smiling. "Chasing you? Because I love you, that's why."

Chuuya felt the back of his throat burning, and tried to fight back the tears that were already gathering in his eyes. "Why? Why, like this... Wha-"

He couldn't form coherent sentences, and stopped trying with a sniffle, tears starting to dribble down his face.

He looked pretty when crying, too.

You cupped his face with both your hands, tilting it upwards to make him look at you. "Because I can't help but want you so much, Chuuya. So much, that I'd have obliterated the Port Mafia if it hadn't been for the fact that you like those people."

Chuuya felt so tired, so exhausted. For almost half a year now he'd been running from you, running and running and running. He'd changed houses, gotten protection from the Mafia, even asked Dazai, for Christ's sake. And yet somehow you'd always gotten through it. He didn't want to run anymore. He wanted to sleep.

He wanted to rest.

He wanted to curl up and close his eyes and not have to worry about anything, not even the nightmares that had started because of you. He wanted to be carefree, the way he had been when he was a kid, poor but honest in the ugliest parts of Yokohama.

Chuuya didn't want to run anymore.

And so he collapsed, his knees buckling as more tears slid down his skin, onto his shirt. You caught him before he could hit the floor, and pulled him into an embrace. He was sobbing, his shoulders shaking and hands trembling.

"C'mere," You pushed his face into the crook of your neck.

Slowly, his hands rose, and for a moment you thought he would try to push you off. You braced for impact, preparing to restrain his hands if you had to. But then, all of a sudden, he wrapped his arms around your neck.

You froze for a moment, and then, a small smile climbed up your face. Chuuya was sobbing into your shoulder, clinging on to you as if for dear life. His fingers fisted in the material of your shirt as he muffled his whimpers against your skin.

He wouldn't run anymore.

That night, standing in the middle of Chuuya's eighth house that year, finally, you got what you wanted.

[marvelfanfics1]

Hiii!! I'm sliding in your inbox sweetheart🤭 first of all I hope you're doing good🫶🏻 I was wondering how do you think brother!rafe would react if his little sister asks him to teach her how to swim? (Cause I'm might be writting a drabble about it🙈💕)

I'm doing great!! Thank you for asking sweetie I hope you're good as well! Love youuuu 🥹🫶🏻 I just had to write a drabble myself because this thought is so cute but I can't wait to read your version if you write it!! 🤭💕

"Rafey! Rafey!" You shout, your bare feet slapping loudly on the floor as you run towards your brother's room, pushing his door open.

Rafe was laying on his bed, phone held above his face and lifts his head just as you reach the side of his bed. "What did I tell you 'bout knocking?"

With a huff you go back to the open door, knocking a few times. "Can I come in now?"

He shakes his head with a smile, dropping his head back onto the sheets. "Sure, kid. Come on in."

Not needing to be told twice you rush over to him, climbing onto his bed and throwing yourself on top of him. He grunts, putting his phone to the side, furrowing his brows at what you're wearing.

"Why y'wearing your swimsuit?" He asks, his hand hovering behind your back as you sat up just in case you fall backwards.

"Wanna learn to swim!" You grin.

"Okay? And what do you want from me then?"

"I want you to teach me." You smile brightly at him.

"Wha- nah, I ain't got the patience-" He starts but you whine instantly.

"Pleeeeease!" You beg him, mustering up your best puppy eyes.

Rafe sighs, he supposes he could try and teach you for a bit since he doesn't have anything better to do because his friends are busy right now. "Fine. I'll be outside in a minute."

"Yay!" You cheer excitedly, clambering off his bed again and rush out of his room.

He simply chuckles, getting up as well to put on a pair of swim trunks.

Outside you are patiently waiting for your brother, sitting by the edge of the pool and swinging your legs in the water. Soon enough Rafe comes out, wearing his blue trunks and sunglasses.

"A'ight, let's get this over with." He says, getting into the water to stand close to where you are sitting and reaches for the pool noodle. "We'll start with this. Just do what I say and you'll be a pro in no time, got it?"

You nod, putting on your goggles before slowly sinking into the water, quickly grabbing the noodle to not drown.

After Rafe teaches you the techniques on how to move your arms and legs for a while, letting you try it on your own with the security of the pool noodle a few times but now it was time to try it without any help.

"C'mon, just swim here." He encourages you, motioning you to swim towards him with his hands.

You hold onto the edge, suddenly unsure and a little afraid of letting go. "Rafey, m'scared!"

He rubs a hand over his face. "I get it, okay. But I promise I won't let anything happen to you."

"Pinky promise?"

"Pinky promise. I'll tell you what, if you swim over to me now we'll go get ice cream afterwards, deal?" He suggests and you think for a moment.

With a nod you take a deep breath and start swimming towards him, moving your limbs just like he taught you.

"Just like that. Keep going, you're almost there." He smiles, cheering you up a little.

Eventually you reach him and Rafe grabs you under your armpits when you're within his reach, spinning you around in the water one time. "You did it! See, wasn't so bad huh?"

You giggle. "Thank you Rafey..."

"Not for that kid. I'm proud of you." He says softly, now secretly glad you asked him to teach you. Wouldn't be the first time something like this happened.

The first time you walked? Was towards him when he came home from the country club. Riding a bike? Rafe was the one who patched up your knee when you fell. And now he teached you how to swim.

"Now we get ice cream?" You ask, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"Yeah, let's go. You deserve it."

Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse

@mythixmagic @iris-xoxo-juhu

For Rafe:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity

[writingquestionsanswered]

I'm so scared I lost my touch when it comes to writing. My work schedule got busier, so I went months without writing anything at all. Now I'm trying to get back into it, but I can't seem to find a rhythm like I used to. I'm so upset because writing is my only hobby and if I lose it...I don't know what the point of anything is.

Out of Practice with Writing/Feeling "Lost Touch"

Here's a little secret about writing: the writing experience and skill you have never goes away, even if you haven't written in DECADES. It isn't like a container of water that evaporates when it's not being refilled so that one day it's gone. Your skill might get a little stale when you're out of practice, but you never lose your ability to do it.

So, why does it feel like our writing gets worse the longer we go without using it?

Here's another little secret about writing: every minute you spend on this planet makes you a better writer. Even when you're not actively writing, you are constantly absorbing the stories of the world around you. Your brain's ability to tell better stories keeps growing even if you're not practicing your writing skills, so that when you finally get back to writing again, you can tell what you're trying to write isn't as good as you want it to be... and that can feel like your writing skills have atrophied or vanished even when that's not the case.

Getting Back Into a Writing Routine - Right now, it might help to focus on getting back into a writing routine rather than worrying about what you're writing. In other words, put more focus on showing up when you have available time than on what exactly you're writing. Things like journaling about your day/a unique experience, writing book/movie/game reviews, flash fiction writing prompts, short poetry, fan-fiction drabbles, free writing, and writing exercises are great "low impact" things you can work on when you "show up" for your writing time. Have a look at my brand new post Slowly Easing Back Into Writing (With a Busy Schedule) as it has a bunch of other ideas and links that may be helpful! i hope that helps!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[onlyjaeyun]

i’ve been following ur writing for some time now and i do have to agree with that anon who said you did CH dirty. you are a very talented writer so it’s just hard to watch.

you started off CH so strong with the lore and little chapters here and there but as it progressed you kind of just got lazy and it shows. when important events happened in the story, they weren’t conveyed through writing but through the texts (ie the riki and yn fight, that was definitely worth a written chapter) and it was honestly disappointing.

the ending isn’t much to say about either. yn and hoon barely go through development after the letter incident and all of a sudden they’re dating and married with a kid like two chapters later?

idk, if it was a mental health issue then i get that but even then you should’ve just gave it a break and thought everything out more. you could do so much better.

thank you for the feedback!

i wanna put you through the progess of a piece of writing from the POV of a writer okay? now keep in mind: i work two jobs, am a fulltime uni student and the daughter of an immigrant household with two parents who still work most of the day just so you know what else i have to deal with, besides my mental health okay?

now, i started off CH strong right? yes. i uploaded on the daily, fine i chose that. a chapter usually takes me around one hour if i actually sit down and focus on nothing but the chapter itself, which includes IG stories, editing, formatting etc. alright

on top of the daily chapters, i constantly replied to 40+ asks a day, a blessing in disguise because no matter how much i enjoy talking to you guys, the pressure does get worse the bigger that number of my inbox becomes, i hope this makes sense

now, i started CH back in october, right when my semester started, thats why i started off strong but as time went on, my assignments and private life got too busy and i guess i felt entitled enough as a writer to skip a few certain chaps and make life a little easier for me by making them regular chapters instead of written ones.

and this is gonna be my main point: i'm not a machine. i wrote a minimum of 5 THOUSAND words per written chapter, MINIMUM. we're talking about a 5-9 THOUSANDED worded chapter EACH WEEK. which usually took me about 6-7 hours, even allnighters.

yes, i chose to do that and maybe my time management wasn't the best but i had to create a compromise where i wouldnt have let you guys wait for over two months which would have resulted in me losing my motivation completely, and yet still focusing on EXAMS. because you know, i'm a fulltime uni student with TWO jobs 😮‍💨

if YOU think i did CH dirty go write an alternative ending yourself but it should be a minimum of 15 chapters including 5 written ones, with at LEAST 9k words each yeah? i wanna see you manage it all, pls prove me wrong snd show me you're better than me i'm genuinely begging bc it might inspire me to do "better" next time.

as a writer/artist/creator, and i can tell you probably arent one yourself or havent been one for long, the longer smth takes to come to an end the worse the pressure becomes which results in a blockage i dont wish upon my worst enemy i'm being deadass. i dealt with some of the worst writer's block ive had since i started writing literally 12 years ago and you're telling me i should have just "taken a break" and do "better"

i never, ever expected anything from anyone but some of you are so entitled to a writer's time and skill it's giving me a headache. maybe you didn't like the timing and writing of the last few chapters of CH and i guess that's unfortunate but this was so unnecessary because you completely dismissed everything else that could have been going on in my life and even belittled my mental health issues like im some fucking AI writing machine

do better, be nicer, write it yourself if you don't like it i'm so fucking over this

if i had gotten out of my own comfort and wellbeing and have actually written another set of written chapters i would have burned myself completely out. ive been in this fandom for not even a year and have already finished FOUR smaus with 50 chapters each, you do NOT get to tell me what i should or could have done better because you dont even give a fuck about me as a person this is just about receiving what YOU think YOURE entitled to but this is MY art and I will do what I see fit even if it's not what was expected of it because i'm a fucking human being with a life before i'm a writer on tumblr

oh, also: i do this for free ㅤ:) just a reminder :) this is my HOBBY :)

and don't you EVER call me lazy again when it comes to writing because i'm not gonna pour my heart and soul into a fic just for you to call me lazy when i literally wrote 50 THOUSAND words for this fucking fic just for the written chapters

goodbye

[madtotry]

thinking of you, with my head underwater one. — two. — three. — coming soon.

hiccup haddock x reader

a/n. featuring toothless. gn reader. reader's dragon is one i created/came up with myself, youre welcome to ask about it! i plan for this to be a series - and to reveal more soon (if you have any questions/confusions about the plot youre welcome to pop into my inbox with those too) let me know if you want to be added to a taglist for my writing/this series

it hadn't been easy to get you to simply let hiccup look at your dragon — elsa — from afar without panicking, let alone convince you to go on a short flight with him.

so now, as you glide just above the surface of the sea, your gaze remains ahead; keeping an eye on elsa beneath you, and hiccup to your side, in your peripheral vision.

he hasn't said too much, and he probably means it as some sort of polite courtesy in an attempt to not overwhelm you, but it only serves to heighten your nerves at the possibility of him just waiting for the right time to attack you and steal elsa.

"what's her firepower?" he finally asks, at a volume that you think might have been in an attempt not to scare you, but is almost so quiet it gets whipped away even in the calm breeze.

you query a, "what?" in confusion, but he reads it as you not hearing him properly.

"firepower," he repeats kindly, and leans down to mutter something to his dragon, "like this."

a moment later, toothless opens his mouth — causing elsa to twitch just an inch away anxiously — and shoots a blast out of his mouth that flies ahead and disperses in a purple burst a few seconds after.

you tense once you understand, having never seen elsa do anything like that, let alone even just the normal fire you've caught other dragons spurting.

hiccup however, notices your sudden — extra — uneasiness, and doesn't pick up on the real reason.

"you don't have to tell me," he tries to catch your eye with a comforting smile, "i'm just asking because i've never seen a dragon like yours before."

you try to cooperate, "neither have i."

hiccup's head already spins with new questions, but goes easy on you with a simple, "could you tell me about her?" that he hopes is open-ended enough that you don't feel pressured.

elsa lets out a low, quiet, murmur that only you catch that tells you she's just as uncertain as yourself.

you don't know how he keeps being so patient and perceptive, but hiccup notices both you and your dragons' hesitance yet again, and speaks.

with a smile, he says, "this is how he got his name," nodding to toothless, who turns to look in your direction with a grin, mouth wide as he retracts his teeth and extends them back out a moment later proudly.

you can't help but feel the slightest upturn of your lips at toothless's pure joy, and a small hum from elsa and a ruffle of her wings tells you she feels the same; though appears to be better at hiding it than yourself.

"cool, right?" hiccup smiles back at you.

"i can show you more, this guy's full of secrets," he scratches a little crook in toothless's neck, who purrs happily at the affection, "aren't you!"

it slips out in a moment of comfort that you don't entirely hate, when you finally say, "she floats."

it takes a second for you to realise what you've said, and another to notice how nonsensical it sounds. but hiccup's reaction doesn't reflect this, if anything the sparkle in his eyes is just that little bit brighter - like he knows he's making progress. and his smile has not once faltered, but it has grown just a bit softer, perhaps more genuine?

he leaves room for you to elaborate, so when you don't — whether that be from the high-tide of anxiety splashing at your chest, or inexplicable embarrassment — he says:

"could you show us?"

elsa's sudden jolt away is unmistakable, and it doesn't take even a breath for you to tune into her uneasiness, and to tense yourself.

your head shakes without you realising, and all you can muster is a quick mumbled, "sorry," before elsa flies the two of you away; hopefully to somewhere you two are familiar with, somewhere safe.

you don't catch the way both his and toothless's expressions fall as you exit, nor the way he still politely stays where he was an makes no effort to chase after you - lest he scare you or elsa any further. he simply watches with a hint of sadness, and hopes you will be around the next time he flies through here.

[nerak-01]

okay so i was reading through your post (WHICH ARE VERY GOOD BTWW!!) and i was thinking…

what about bestfriend!konig??

You guys know just how to bait me into writing, don't you?

For Bestfriend!Konig, I have this gut feeling that you're the one pinning after him. It's known that he was bullied when he was younger, and I think that contributes to a few insecurities even now.

You can make it so obvious that you want him, but he would just keep denying it until you confessed.

Konig, this big, beefy man who is reduced to a blushing mess anytime you get too close. He's always hyper aware of how your sense of personal space seems to disappear around him. You easily brush past him, linger for hugs, and insist on giving him affirming compliments. They make his face feel hot, but Konig chalks it up to you being a very affectionate friend. You wouldn't have a crush on him. He wasn't your type anyway.

No matter how much you dote over him, he refuses to see beyond it because why would such an amazing person be fawning over him? Even if he wanted more, a part of him was always conscious of the fact that you were simply out of his league.

When you did confess, I imagine he had to circle back a couple times. He would be the type to have you wrapped in his arms, cuddled together, chin on the top of your head; and still ask, "Wait... you actually have a crush on me?"

He has this little golden retriever energy whenever he's around you. For how intimidating he may look, it practically melts away when it's just the two of you. Once Konig finally realizes that you're his, he'd stop at nothing to spoil you with his affections. After all, he'd been holding back for a while.

NSFW UNDER THIS

Konig is such a sucker for praise. He loves it when you're vocal and tell him how good he's making you feel.

He's a pleasure dom. Think overstimulation to the extreme because again, he can't get enough of spoiling you.

(If you ask nicely, he may consider being a switch. That's a definite maybe though. A lot of his pleasure stems from yours, so it'd be kind of hard for him to give that up.)

I feel like he could use degradation too, but it stems from being possessive. "F-fuck, you're my little whore, right, darling?"

P-O-S-S-E-S-S-I-V-E. Prides himself in knowing he'll be the only one seeing your eyes roll back as you buck against his face. He easily holds your hips still as he dives in for seconds.

With that comes a possible breeding kink?? Something about you being his to claim... it's primal and raw. Konig might not realize it at first, but the way you continuously squeeze around him makes it hard for him to think straight. Suddenly, he wished there wasn't such tight latex around him. It was so close to breaking anyway, what harm would it do if you were swollen with his kids? You'd his and everyone would know it.

Okay... it's safe to say I got carried away. Seriously though, I really look forward to asks in my inbox. I'm glad you stopped by, Anon! I've got so many things I should be writing, but honestly these are so fun to answer.