#is that one really good fic where he just keeps marrying women who are in tough situations

[lilnasxvevo]

My favorite dumbass headcanon is that all the apparently unmarried sect leaders post-timeskip actually ARE married and it just doesn’t come up. Nie Huaisang has like 3 kids it’s just not relevant to the story

[artdcnaldson]

okay but PLEASE elaborate on Olympics!Art AU

TeeHee

Rating: E (18+)

Warnings: SMUT (p in v), feral obsessive behavior, infidelity

A/N: And you would do it too, that’s all I’m saying. Also IMPORTANT note: I love Tashi, she is a mother to many. However this fic has a very obsessive reader who just wants to fuck a married man, at Tashi’s expense

Maybe you were a bad person.

You’d met Art and Tashi Donaldson before— a year back at an event held for Tennis’ rising stars. That was you, some other guys who had done well in the Juniors, a girl from an Ivy League, and more people that fell into the blind spots of your interest..

You must’ve looked so sweet in your formalwear, approaching the couple with shaking hands so you could say just how big of a fan you were. You had no ill intent then, not when you were face to face with two people you’d idolized since you were twelve and watching the Junior US Open. That night you’d taken a deep breath as you stared at the ceiling of your home, feeling like you’d made it.

Sure, Art was handsome, and you’d lived the past decade harboring a massive celebrity crush on him, but he was married, he was untouchable. Art Donaldson oozed that sweet, devoted husband shtick. Anniversary posts, birthday posts, Valentine’s Day posts, Mother’s Day posts. He had a daughter, he posted about how much he loved being a dad.

You were fine accepting that your fantasies of fucking Art Donaldson were strictly fantasies. But that was before you qualified and had to see him every fucking day.

Art Donaldson, who held open doors for you, who talked to you casually, like he might an old friend. Art, who stood in the long line in the food court with you, ate something he probably shouldn’t have, and asked that you don’t tell Tashi.

And you’d smile conspiratorially, and assure him his secret was safe with you. The implication being that you’d keep that secret, and more. As many as he’d ask you to, really.

You’d see him on a practice court, running drills with his wife, and feel the heat of jealousy in the pit of your stomach. You’d turn away, focus on your own game, practice until your hands were aching and sore.

“Where’s Mrs. Donaldson?” You asked one night after you’d been sexiled and had to sit out in the hallway waiting for your roommate to finish up. Art leaned against the wall, standing tall above you, so you had to crane your neck. You liked that point of view, on your knees looking up at him, you wondered if he liked it too.

“Oh, she’s staying in a very nice, very expensive hotel room with our daughter right now,” he said with a grin. “As soon as my events are done, that’s where I’ll be too.”

“Oh,” you said, bringing an easy smile to your lips. “Well, we’re all glad you’re here now.”

“We?” He questioned.

You gave a coy smile, batting your lashes so sweetly. “Maybe just me.”

There was a strange expression on his face for just a moment. Then he laughed like it was nothing. He wished you a goodnight and good luck in your matches the next morning, and disappeared into his own room.

You medaled in women’s doubles. They published photos of you and your partner biting the silver between your teeth. That same day, Art Donaldson took home gold. You were there to see the very end of his last match— every single collision of racket against ball, every step, every grunt of exertion. Your thighs clenched as you watched, fists balled up in the fabric of your skirt.

You wanted him in a needy, desperate sort of way. Like a groupie for a rock band, or a virgin being sacrificed on a mountaintop. You watched him celebrate with a kiss from Tashi and felt that same need like an open wound. Jealousy was festering in you like a rot.

The dive bar wasn’t what you’d expected. Something Art had found with a quick google search and a few minutes with a translation app. He’d knocked on your door to invite you, wearing the beaming smile of someone on top of the world.

“So you’ll come?” He asked after he told you all about it.

“Mhmm,” you said, heart hammering against your ribs. “I’ll come.”

And there you were— in a dress that hardly qualified as such— standing so close to him that you could smell his expensive cologne. His arm would brush yours, he’d glance over and apologize with a warm hand to your arm. You’d clench your thighs together and peer at him through your lashes. It’s fine, don’t worry about it.

A few of the other players disappeared to play darts, or watch the late night coverage of the other sports still competing. You stuck by Art’s side, happily allowing his attention to fall on you completely.

“I saw parts of your doubles final,” he said finally. He was drinking a brand of beer you’d never seen before— something local, you supposed. “You looked beautiful out there.” Your eyes lit up, and then he added. “The way you were playing, I mean— it was phenomenal.”

“Well, I’m no gold medalist,” you said. You let your hand rest on his arm, and looked up at him. The fingers on your other hand toyed with the edge of the medal, warm from where it had been flush against his chest.

He swallowed. You felt his muscles flex beneath your touch, but he didn’t discourage it. Not one fucking bit.

It wasn’t lost on you that Tashi wasn’t there. Not that it was really her type of venue, from what you had gathered. It wasn’t lost on you that Art Donaldson was at a dive bar, drinking random Brazilian beers, instead of celebrating with his wife, with his daughter. Fuck all those posts on his instagram— if he really was a good husband, a faithful one… that’s the only place he’d want to be.

“I saw your match too. I ran right over after my ceremony to watch,” you confessed. It was hard to concentrate on anything else— you were standing so close to him that you were nearly pressed completely into his body.

His lips twitched in interest. “Yeah?”

You nodded. “Mhmm. It was incredible. You were so dominant out there, just taking what was rightfully yours.”

He swallowed again, gravitating closer. Your tits were practically spilling out of your dress— he probably got the perfect eyeful when he eased you closer with a firm hand on your lower back, when he looked down at you through blown pupils.

“You looked so fucking hot out there, Art,” you said, lips brushing against his jawline. “You can’t even imagine how it felt sitting there, watching you win. How turned on I got… how wet.”

Art exhaled a shuddery breath. “Jesus Christ.”

It must’ve been a while since he had someone want him this bad, you thought. Clearly he needed it— needed a pretty, sweet thing to tell him just how much they wanted him. You could be that. You could do that.

“I’m not wearing panties,” you whispered in his ear. His grip on you tightened and you had to suppress a giddy smile. “You can feel if you want. I won’t tell.”

He swore under his breath and glanced around. Everyone was too occupied or drunk to give a shit about what the two of you were up to.

He grabbed your hand, pulled you away into the bathroom. You looked pretty even then, in the flickering lights, sat up on the edge of the sink eagerly awaiting his attention.

When he wrenched your thighs apart, he was greeted by the pretty sight of your glistening cunt— sticky with arousal and need. His hand fit there perfectly, right where you needed it.

“Fuck,” you gasped. His fingers rubbed through your slit— wet and hot and aching for him. Your head fell back, knocking against the dirty mirror. “Want you to use me— whatever you want, just take it.”

And you meant it too. This was your teenage idol— a man you’d touched yourself to the thought of countless times. He owned your body, your sexuality, as much as you did. It was only fair he took from it whatever he pleased.

You watched with hungry eyes as he fumbled with the button of his pants, then shoved them down just enough to free his dick.

Your mouth fucking watered with the need to feel it on your tongue, nudging against the back of your throat. You weren’t opposed to begging— you nearly started before you got it into your hand.

Warm, thick, pulsing. Precum beaded at his tip, so you smeared it around the sensitive head of his cock with your thumb. He groaned, bucked into your fist once, twice before he moved your hand.

“Spread your legs wider for me,” he said, slapping the inside of your thighs. You obeyed wordlessly, spreading yourself out invitingly. He pressed closer, so you felt him rutting his dick against your pussy, coating it in your arousal. “God, you’re so fucking wet.”

The words came out with equal parts disgust and awe. He probably thought you were a slut with the way you were throwing yourself at him. You wished he’d just call you that, spit it in your face.

Your cunt pulsed with need, aching to be filled up finally. The culmination of years of fantasizing. Art pressed himself against your entrance, sinking himself into you with the slow reverence of a man who liked making love.

He buried himself inside of you and had to stop moving to keep from cumming then and there. He was a perfect image of restraint— the way his fingers dimpled the flesh of your hips in a bruising grip.

Art wanted to be a gentleman— to give you time to adjust to the size of him, to ease you into it and let the pleasure be a slow, soft burn. He pulled out nice and easy, slid himself into your wet, throbbing cunt. That was all fine and good, but you knew it was just pretense. You were laid out and wanting, begging for him to use you as his own personal toy.

“I’m not your wife, Art.” You met his gaze, locked your ankles around his waist. “Fuck me like you mean it.”

The first thrust, the first real one, knocked the air from your lungs. That silence didn’t last long— because you got what you wanted— he was really fucking you, bullying his cock into your pussy with the same need and desperation that you felt.

“Jesus Christ, you’ve— fuck— you’ve got no fucking self respect, huh?” He pounded into you, leveraging his grip to pull you against him, really impale you on his dick.

The moan that escaped you was pornographic. If he kept talking to you like that, if he kept fucking you like that, you’d cum.

“You don’t even care, do you? This fucking pussy’s squeezing me so tight— you fucking love this,” His voice was strained, interrupted by groans and pants.

You moaned, eyes rolling back. “Love this,” you echoed. When you looked down, at the sight of him splitting you open, of the ring of creamy arousal circling the base of his dick, you felt dizzy. Like you were standing on top of a tall building and looking down. Sort of out of body, tethered in the present by brutal thrusts into your pussy and the wet, slapping sounds of your bodies joining.

Your fingers moved between your thighs, rubbing needy and insistent at your clit. So close to finishing that you wanted to cry and just ask to start over again, that you’d savor it more a second time.

“Gonna cum,” he groaned suddenly. You felt him start to pull out, to leave. It wasn’t fucking fair.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck— not yet, you didn’t want it to end like that. “I have an IUD,” you lied through your teeth. You used your legs, pulled him closer, deeper. “Just keep going, don’t stop. I’m right there.”

He moaned against your throat— holding you tight, fucking into you with animal need. Your fingers moved against your clit with an insistent need. It didn’t take much to push you over the edge. Your moans so loud that Art had to put his medal between your lips to shut you up.

And you were so pliant— letting him drill into your aching, used cunt, your mouth tasting like metal. You felt his rhythm falter— one, two harsh thrusts that knocked muffled moans from you until he came, painting your insides thick, creamy white.

He stayed buried inside of you for a while— panting, doing his best to catch his breath. You spat out the medal and it fell back against his chest, spit slick and shining. You reached up, ran your fingers along his face, reverently, sweetly. A lock of hair fell into his eyes and you tucked it away with delicate fingers.

When he pulled out, you felt that sinking feeling of loss and jealousy in your chest. He redressed in silence, turned away like he couldn’t stand to look at you, or the mirror. Shame rolled off of him in waves that you wanted to brush away.

It wasn’t bad, you’d assure him. You’re a tennis star, you’re the greatest in the world. You should have whatever you want, whenever you want it.

But you didn’t say that. You just tidied yourself up as best as you could and slipped back out into the bar. If anyone noticed, they said nothing.

[wonustars]

𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖶𝖺𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖧𝗈𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝖧𝗎𝗌𝖻𝖺𝗇𝖽 (Teaser)

𖥔 pairing: kim mingyu x reader 𖥔 wordcount: ~15k+ (this teaser: 599) 𖥔 genre: fake marriage au!, fluff, angst, smut (18+ mdni)

𖥔 reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated ♡! tumblr is based on reblogs not likes, and they help writers like me to get better reach. thank you!

𖥔 summary: you and mingyu (a former mafia member and also your ex-fiancè's former best friend) are forced into witness protection. All you’ve been told is that you’re meant to act like a happily married couple. Pushed into a cookie cutter house, and a suburban neighbourhood far from the city, where people bring you baked goods on your first day and partake in small talk, it’s all foreign and new. There’s so many things you don’t know about him, but for a man who’s only known violence and all things illegal, he’s somehow the perfect house husband.

𖥔 tags: fake relationship/marriage!au, non-idol!au, mafia!au, afab!reader, norbert is readers cat (more tags when the fic is posted) 𖥔 release date: may 14 or 15, 2024 𖥔 author's note: if i end up posting after the predicted dates plz do not crucify me 🙏 ik a lot of people have been waiting for this one so i'd thought i post a teaser since i have 2-3 chapters left till its finally finished. thank you to all of those who sent in their ideas and to those who've shown so much interest in this story :") i really hope it lives up to your expectations!! see u soonest - anna ♡ !!!!

𖥔 keep reading

The first few days at the new house were uneventful and awkward to say the least.

Mingyu spent the majority of his time doing random housework, he thought that if he had to live here for a year, then he should at least try and make it as “homely" as possible. 

Many of the women in the neighbourhood had deemed Mingyu as their new eye-candy. Despite the fact that he wore his pink shibu inu apron while tending to the garden at the front of the house. They would especially make sure to take multiple laps around the block during their group walks, drooling over his toned muscles as he began to plant an array of flowers on the lawn. 

Mingyu isn’t very observant when it comes to people finding him attractive, believe it or not. He automatically assumes that the wives of Bridgewater just wanted to get to know the new couple that just moved in. 

“What a beautiful garden you have!” one of the wives called out from the sidewalk, her eyes glinting with appeal. 

“Thank you, It’s not done just yet, but I think we’re finally getting somewhere,” Mingyu smiles bashfully. 

“Of course dear. You know if you’re ever free you should come and take a look at my garden,” another lady giggles, her innuendo flying right over Mingyu’s head.

The group of fourty plus year old women all giggle like school girls as they watch his face turn red with flattery. Mingyu scratches the back of his head awkwardly as they bid him good-bye, curious as to what they group of women thought was so funny about him taking a look at their gardens. It’s all just a bunch of flowers isn’t it? 

The sound of your car’s engine brings Mingyu out of his thoughts, his gardening tools forgotten by the piles of dirt he left. You lug Nortbert’s carrier as you walk into the house, acknowledging his presence with a small nod. His pink aprons raises a few questions in your head, but you decide not to comment on it. 

“Oh hey you’re back, is he ok?” Mingyu asks, motioning to the carrier you hold in your hand. 

Halting your steps, your eyes widen as you realize that he’s talking to you, there wasn’t much conversation between the two of you since you’ve moved in. so you found it a little surprising that he’s asking about Norbert, the cat who tends to show lots of aggression towards him. 

“Morning. He’s ok, I just took him for his check up at the vet,” you shrug before entering the house. 

You leave the conversation there. There wasn’t much else to say anyways, and you had a lot of work to get to before the end of the day. If Mingyu feels a little bit ignored by your actions, he doesn’t make it noticeable, going back to working on his garden. 

From across the yard, neither you of Mingyu notice Seungkwan’s looming figure as he and Vernon enjoy the Friday morning sun. He watches the two of you from his porch with a quirked eyebrow. They’re awfully awkward for newly weds, he thinks to himself. 

“Nonie, don’t you think they’re a little weird?” Seungkwan nudges his boyfriend, who’s mumbling to himself while Vernon reads his book. 

Vernon quirks up, moving his headphones a little to hear what his boyfriend has to say, “huh? Sorry I was reading, what’d you say?” 

“Nothing, go back to your book love,” Seungkwan mumbles, his eyes still darting back and forth from your descending figure and Mingyu, his suspicions spiking once more.

[thalfbloodloser]

i wish we had alloaro representation in media. a charming character who fucks - both literally AND aesthetically. one that makes other characters go "wow! they're so cool and good in bed, but ultimately un-datable, because as soon as they sense any romantic intention on you, they flee" (kinda like lucifer morningstar from "lucifer". he's aroallo in my heart)

a character who's funny and has a horrifyingly 80's sense of fashion (they have a curly combed-out mullet and mismatched earrings. you'll find them at pride wearing a corn costume because it "matches the aroallo flag" and they're "being subtle") or one who's the embodiment of a 60's greaser (their motorcycle helmet is themed after the aro flag and the back of their leather jacket says "LOVELESS / LOVE LOSES") or one who's a girly fanfiction writer that has more ships than a star wars movie (their fics are muntifandom-ly famous and most their stuff is covered in yaoi/yuri patches and stickers. everyone thinks they're a hopeless romantic because of it, but that's exactly why they're so big on the fiction ≠ reality discourse) or...

anyone else, really. just ultimately a HUMAN who's casually aromantic. one who doesn't make it a parade but isn't subtle about it, either. will they hold other character's hands? maybe. kiss their cheek? perhaps. hang out with them, on picnics and walks along the river? can't see why not! but platonically. or maybe have them be genuinely romance-repulsed & not so eager to participate in anything socially perceived as romantic. that would also be amazing.

let them express themselves sexually! let them fuck. give them a..."fuckbuddy", if you must. or a best friend who's sexually involved with them - classic romcom material, i know - but without it being "complicated"; because there's no romance involved to complicate it.

give them funny scenes. another character tries to kiss their lips or ask them on a date? they laugh nervously, the scene cuts and we get a hilarious shot of them escaping through the bathroom window. or audibly saying "ew" and then regretting it. another character is struggling to write a romcom/romance book without it being corny? we get a scene where our character casually describes the most romantical (and, to them, unappealing) plot ever - because, much like aces acing the smut department, they're far from misunderstanding what is or isn't heartstopping for alloromantics - only to have the other character stare at them like "?????????? HELLO????". give us a scene of them being confused as to why their hookup is yelling at them for acting "so casual" and responding with a quotable shitty line ("just because we had sex last night i can't call you "bro"? / "what? expected me to marry you or something? get off my bed, it's 9AM" / "would you rather have me mad? sad? what's happening here. give me a hint")

but give them complicated scenes too. scenes portraying the loneliness that comes with being aromantic but not asexual, the lack of community. them talking about how hard it is to maintain sexual relationships just sexual. the painful "breakups" because one of their friends declared their undying love for them but they cannot possibly match that energy, even if they wanted to. have them weep because somehow that keeps happening. the unfairness in being accused of heartlessness and selfishness by other queers. the shame on being told they're fetishistic and the reason why queer men/women/people are seen as sex-crazed or impure.

...anyways, i'm rambling- do y'all have any aroallo ocs? or ideas for alloaro characters? maybe aroallo headcanons? i'd love to know what you think! :)

(don't tag as #ace / #asexual / #asexuality)

[oopsdevil]

COD + AUs

which alternative universe they would fit in (f!reader)

SIMON GHOST RILEY + APOCALYPSE!AU

(full fic here)

in another lifetime, the worldwide zombie apocalypse saved simon's life. with no one to fight for, simon felt like himself for the first time. a world where hiding his face is the last of everyone else's worries, a world where he gets to be violent for a good reason against those flesh eating things, a world where he gets to live without needing anyone. that until he met you. if anyone told him he would end up surviving the streets of manchester with a girl half his height and a backpack bigger than her, whose first words to him where "what's with the skull?", he would have laughed. but here he is, watching you go crazy at an old, dark clothing store, forgetting for a second that the world around you is dying. simon didn't care before, but now reminds himself the reason he wants to keep going, is you.

SIMON GHOST RILEY + TATTOO ARTIST!AU

in another lifetime, simon gets to combine his favorite things and make a living out of it; pain, art and ink. gotta admit, it was intimidating meeting him for the first time. 6'2, quiet, blonde, heavy accent, covered in tattoos and attached to his black surgical mask. surprisingly, he is a very patient tattoo artist. the fact that he understands the significance behind your tattoo, or that you need breaks, or that he offers you water many times, makes you go back to him for more ink. you remember the first time he took his mask off, with a couple scars around his face and a killing smirk, simon asked you out on the best date he could think of; hanging around his station while he tattoos strangers. or how you call it now, years after that first date, saturday afternoon.

KYLE GAZ GARRICK + COLLEGE!AU

in another lifetime, kyle persuaded his talent in history knowledge. top of his class and with intact kindness (even after meeting very pretentious and competitive classmates), kyle offers his help to the girl in the library who doesn't seem to understand what the hell her book's about. you both knew, the second you locked eyes. not gonna lie, he makes your college experience better just by existing. yes, you stay up all night studying and fail to answer his calls. but he knows you, and he is outside your dorm at 3 a.m with the best pizza on campus. and yes, he will wait outside class when you take your final exam. and yes, he always knew he wanted to marry you, but waits until you get your degree to propose.

KYLE GAZ GARRICK + PRIVATE DETECTIVE!AU

in another lifetime, the sense of justice got to kyle in a cold, cheap apartment in the city, and working at night. he got really confused when a girl with kind eyes like yours approached him for his services. used to working with cheating men and sketchy women, kyle begged for you to drop whatever weird problem your boss got himself into, is really not you business, but he respects your contribution to the employees your boss is basically robbing. he really didn't expect to get so attached to a case, even less to a client. but there you are, sleeping on his bed after many nights protecting you, after you didn't drop it. you couldn't, and it made him fall in love with you even harder. he felt his heart go soft and his stiff shoulders drop when you grabbed his arm in your sleep. kyle always protected himself, but after finding you, he has new priorities. he also never considered himself impulsive, but look at him now, living in a new warm city with his lifesavings in a backpack and your hand in his.

JOHN SOAP MACTAVISH + SOULMATES!AU

in another lifetime, johnny checks the mark in everybody's wrist, hoping one will match his. his is rather particular, and earned his nickname since childhood, a small but obvious mark shaped as a soap. turning 30 (and hiding it with humor) soaps heart breaks a little more when he realizes he hasn't shared the first thirty years of his life with his soulmate, the one who at this point, john doubts even exists. he takes a walk around the streets of glasgow to clear his head, and walks into a coffee shop. he reaches for his cup in the multitude, and hears from the barista something he heard his entire life "your mark looks like a soap! how funny". his stomach dropped when a girl next to him goes "yeah, i know". it took him a second, but he looked. and yeah, he burned his hand with his coffee when he introduced himself, and got embarrassed when the entire staff realized a couple of soulmates met at their shop, but johnny's coffee never tasted better knowing that was his last birthday alone.

JOHN SOAP MACTAVISH + BOXER!AU

in another lifetime, a cocky boxer winked your way in the middle of his fight, and your face got red like the blood in his gloves. your friends warned you, what can an amateur boxer with a mohawk offer to you? surprisingly, a lot. when he's with you, he isn't the soap mactavish, just johnny. johnny, who looks handsome even with a black eye when he asks you out for breakfast. johnny, who is bulking and eats like an animal on your first date, but god, he is so charming. your johnny, who runs every morning and comes back with a hot coffee for you, and accepts the fact that sometimes you can't watch his fights. johnny, who thought fighting was all he was good for, but gained so much peace when he met you. with ups and downs, he is convinced that having a reason to fight for is the reason he won the championship.

KÖNIG + BODYGUARD!AU

in another lifetime, you yelped when you woke up to a 6'4 man in your kitchen, wearing a suit and a intimidating black hood. he is not surprised by the reaction. being the bodyguard for a girl who saw too much is not his ideal job, but you became so much more. so brave and witty. he is obsessed with the way you aren't scared of him in the slightest. könig swore to protect you by a contract, but it became his whole life. no longer a job, but his reason. the nicknames that slipped out when the situation became to much for you, and the time he saw a suspicious face and had a hand on your hip the rest of the night. but you falling asleep in his shoulder after a storm was it for him, he had to tell you he loved you. but könig's heart breaks when his contract is over and you are officially safe. after a long, heavy fight about your "relationship", könig confesses he can't sleep now that he is not around you, that he needs to make sure you are safe, forever. and fuck, the kiss he gave you. könig swore to protect you by a contract, but met the other half his cold heart never knew he needed.

KÖNIG + GROUP THERAPY!AU

in another lifetime, könig healed in so many ways. its hard to take this much time off work at mid thirties for any human, but imagine for a soldier. the only condition favor his superior asked was "please, go to therapy". very skeptical, könig tried a place where the attention wasn't always on him, group therapy. talking isn't his favorite, but he met amazing people, and yeah, he wasn't in the best place to meet the love of his life, but how can you not look at that beautiful girl who picks up her marine dad from therapy? after very hard months talking about things he swore to never think about again, you were there for him the entire time. könig healed in so many ways. könig cried for the first time in decades when he left you, thinking he is too broken for you. könig asked for forgiveness for the first time in decades when he got you back. könig giggled for the first time in decades when your dad caught you two making out in your porch (and boy, did your dad make him run home). könig went back to his job about a year later, and became the best soldier he ever was. the talk of the base is now how the colonel keeps recommending therapy to everyone.

JOHN PRICE + LAWYER FIRM!AU

in another lifetime, john price is a fucking asshole. or so everyone thinks. you have never felt this nervous about a job interview, and by that cold look mr. price gave you, you were sure he would hire another secretary. but maybe his eyes are just like that, because why else would you be taking the bus at 7 a.m in these clothes? you hear it all over the building, mr. price can be difficult, serious, boring. but they never danced to head over heels by tears for tears in his office while barefoot. they never ate chinese food totally sleep deprived while going over a case over and over. john never grabbed their hand while walking the busy streets of london in that suit he looks way too good in. john's reputation really changed through the years. "he went soft when he met his sweetheart at work". he laughs, no one who ever saw him in a courtroom would call him soft.

JOHN PRICE + ARRANGED MARRIAGE!AU

in another lifetime... john is difficult. you get it. he is an important man, a business man. a man who has no time to meet women, specially a wife. everything in his life is a transaction, including his business partner's sister. you two got married at a small ceremony and he didn't even kiss you. it took him 5 months to sleep in the same bed as you, and thats when it all started. that night john made sure you knew he didn't hate you, he was trying to give you space. but you don't want space, you want to peel all those layers and really get to know him. now you know why he is the big man, one of a kind. who knew a man so brilliant and cold could be so... him. john. protective, faithful, touch-starved, sweet-tooth, the smiths enthusiast, twin girls dad, belly laugher john.

[whats-amata-you]

Alright y’all hear me out, but I kinda like this interpretation of the Kaiba brothers where they have to deal with the consequences of a very codependent sibling relationship. Not like in the “something happens to Mokuba and Seto has a crisis” kind way, but in the “Mokuba doesn’t know who the hell he is outside the context of being Seto’s little brother” kind of way.

Literally everything Seto ever did from the day Mokuba was born was toward the singular goal of Mokuba’s wellbeing. He sacrificed everything to give Mokuba better opportunities, a more stable home life, a better chance at happiness than Seto ever really had for himself. Seto even gave up huge swaths of who he himself was to work toward that goal. It was all for Mokuba.

But Mokuba was right there with him, the whole time, watching his brother suffer and doing everything in his power to protect him. Mokuba’s whole identity revolves just as much around Seto as Seto’s does around Mokuba.

And that’s fucked up all well and good when Seto’s a teenager and Mokuba hasn’t even hit puberty and only one of them is really taking on any serious adult responsibility. But imagine what that must be like when Mokuba grows up.

Imagine being 20 and as long as you can remember you’ve been worrying about keeping your older brother alive. Maybe he’s in late twenties or early thirties now, and life has finally forced him to either do the work of healing and moving on or else spiraling into self-destruction to the point that not even you can save him anymore. Maybe he’s married off and happy in his own life, or maybe he’s dead or missing and left you behind as his only heir to the family fortune.

And you’re just as completely, utterly lost either way because either way, he doesn’t need you the same way anymore. And on top of that, you realize you don’t really need him the same way anymore.

His routines aren’t yours anymore. His moods don’t set the tone for your whole day anymore. You don’t plan your life around him and his needs anymore.

So. What do you do when you’re suddenly cut loose and left adrift?

I imagine Mokuba floating through life a lot for his twenties, maybe into his thirties. He’s got no sense of direction or purpose without Seto being the center of it all. He realizes he doesn’t have to become a businessman like Seto and help run Kaiba Corporation, but doesn’t know what the hell else he might even want to do. Doesn’t even have a clue. He goes into business anyway because he knows he has to do something, but he doesn’t really enjoy it and it wears on him. He’s popular with women but can’t make a relationship last more than a few weeks; they keep fizzling out because he just doesn’t seem to have any ambition.

It’s super easy for Mokuba to see and acknowledge how Seto was always sort of his dad when they were kids, as well as his brother. Seto actively took up the role and wasn’t shy about saying so outright. But I don’t think either of them realizes quite as easily just how much Mokuba was parentified too, even from a very young age. Seto made Mokuba’s physical health and overall wellbeing his business on purpose, but Mokuba accidentally stumbled into providing a level of emotional support to Seto that no child should ever be responsible for. That kind of relationship would fuck anyone up.

I feel like an interpretation of them Kaiba brothers that had a Mokuba who ended up being rather directionless and having issues with his sense of who the hell he is after Seto’s inevitable Character Development one way or the other is worth exploring. People change over time, and if a fic is set a decade or more post-canon…idk, I just feel like Mokuba’s trauma deserves some serious exploration, too.

[jolenes-doppelganger]

hi! so I have this idea that won't leave my mind about a fanfic/story between lady jessica x fem! reader. basically reader is part of one of the great houses and she married duke leto because of a political alliance. jessica was already leto’s concubine and paul had already been born too.

the relationship between reader and jessica was never the best one. jessica always had this pet peeve with reader, maybe jealousy because she was married with leto, but reader never wanted to be married with him and never had romantic feelings for him too.

they relationship began to change when they come to arrakis, specifically when they are left in the desert to die (is “saved” by the harkonnen also because he is a member of one of the great houses).

jessica sees the reader as the only thing left of what she called home, then she starts to develop feelings. reader already had some “strange” feelings for jessica, like a devotion/admiration to a goddess.

– s

ps: i’m the same person who requested the jessica x fem! corrino reader.

[Hi Anon! Keeping me busy, I see :)]

Riptides

Lady Jessica x Fem! Duchess Reader

Summary: The past haunts. It puts things both bad and good into perspective. Whether it is to mend or to separate, that is entirely up to the doer.

Warnings: None, just overall angsty. (Hurt + Comfort).

A/N: This work is contrived of ‘ficlets’. Plain text moves linearly, set in Dune II after Jamis has been killed. Italicized text does not move linearly, pertaining to snapshots of the past. R is the sister of Lord Fenring, not shown in the movie. (This is not a white or perceived to be white character, it is as self-insert as possible). I also did my best to lean into realism, (less R admiration of Jessica, more conflict), as it is more my style. !!! I really, really, really, really like exploring true characterization or playing around with characters, so this is a very angsty fic !!! (Alia steals the show, again).

Word Count: 4.2k

Paul was an uneasy sleeper. Looking at Jessica as she twitched in the Fremen tent, you realized just where he had gotten it from. Jessica was coated in sweat. Paul was the furthest away from you. It was a sad truth that neither of them ever really warmed up to you. And how could you blame them? The marriage to House Atreides was nothing you’d ever asked for. It just was. But Jessica couldn’t understand that. And you wouldn’t try to make her understand that. Perhaps if things had gone differently from the start, perhaps if you’d been given the opportunity to make her acquaintance before you were dragged to the marital bed… None of it mattered.

Jessica twitched again, an unpleasant dream. The duke was dead. Your protection was gone, and by some miracle you’d made it with the other two out of the desert and into the path of the Fremen. Paul had fought for his right to live, Jessica had bested Stilgar, then killed Jamis to protect him and his mother’s right in the Fremen, but you? The best you had was the Bene Gesserit training given to all noble women of high ranking houses. A Sayyadina, like Jessica. It put you in a poor place with the Fremen.

“Hnnmm-” Jessica jerked.

You looked at her, analyzing her facial expressions. Her eyes flew open, and she sat up, lunging.

“Jessi-”

Her hands gripped your shoulder as she pushed you down, prepared to strike. The dim light of the eclipse halted her motions.

“Oh.” she gasped.

Her blue eyes were wide, and afraid. It must have been a hell of a dream.

“All this time and I still forget there’s three of us.” 

Loud voices came from inside the Duke’s chambers. He’d called you here, supposedly to meet with Jessica. Your earlier interactions were never pleasant, she was clipped with you.

“Jessica, please. She is a political ally and another route of maintaining peace upon Arrakis.” Duke Leto reasoned with his concubine.

“And a force of contention in this house! She is slow to learn the Fremen ways, slow to develop relationships with the house staff, and worse, her closest friend is a teenage boy.”

“Paul is close to her age it is reasonable-”

“Yes. They are close in age. I wonder why that is.”

Duke Leto didn’t answer, rather he opened the door, gesturing you inside. You wore thin, flowy clothing, similar to the clothing worn in House Fenring. It was far less conservative than Jessica’s, and you supposed that was a mistake in and of itself. The Duke paid no attention to your clothes. One night to seal your marriage, as was custom. The Bene Gesserit had already decided you would not bear an Atreides child. You slept with him the night after your period had ended. No child would have been conceived, no heir above Paul.

“There are three of us in this marriage.” Leto spoke. “For better or worse, we need to remain as one unit,” he made a circular gesture with his hands, “And that cannot happen without work to build the cohesion between the two of you.”

Jessica’s eyes were bright, intense, her mouth drawn into a thinly concealed scowl.

“Lady Jessica,” you began. “If it is my friendship with Paul that worries you, I will end it.”

Jessica gave one last look at her Duke, leaving before she had spoken a word to you. 

Jessica crouched in the sand, taking refuge from the heat in a cluster of boulders. You couldn’t blame her, she was nauseous. The babe produced nausea as it was, but the sight of water collection from several still living Harkonnens couldn’t have made it any better. She looked green, practically, having thrown up in the sand. Stilgar had scooped it into a bag, attaching it to a pack. No waste. But the lack of water wasn’t going to help her.

“Jessica.” you murmured, crouching beside her on the ground. “Here.”

You exposed the straw from your suit, offering it to her.

“I can’t accept it.” Jessica shook her head.

“It’s a gift for my future step-daughter. You can and you will.”

Jessica didn’t really mean it when she refused the water. She knew you’d press the issue, and she’d accept. She needed the water, and you could do without a little water for a little while. The only issue was that it required bringing her face close to you, which she did. The water was warm. The same temperature as your body, but it did the trick. She drank a few mouthfuls of water, more than she needed, but you didn’t object. She’d take what she could get from you, although her mindset was starting to change.

“The young Lady Fenring, sister of Lord Fenring.” Reverend Gauis Helen Mohiam drawled. “The Bene Gesserit have secured you a marriage…”

So that was what she was here for? A marriage was reasonable, you were of the age to be used to further the Bene Gesserit breeding program. 

“There’s a catch.” the Reverend spoke, holding her hand up to prevent you from assenting. “The union is childless.”

Your mouth snapped shut. A childless marriage? What kind of a thing was that? The Bene Gesserit was better off training you to be a junior reverend than marrying you to a man without birthing a child. What of the breeding programme? What of the needed changes to be made to the bloodlines with the Atreides resistance?

“You will be our spy. There are many eyes upon House Atreides, but we need eyes from inside.”

“What of Lady Jessica, your reverence?”

Helen Mohiam chuffed at that.

“Lady Jessica has served her own purpose since she fell in love with her Duke. One of my best pupils, one of my worst failures. You are young, unswayed by the love of men, swayed by the approval and service to your sisters of the Bene Gesserit. You will serve us well there.”

Taking a breath in, you nodded once.

“I assume Lady Jessica is not to be made aware of this?”

“Lady Jessica should never know of the master you serve. Your duty is to play the role of a jealous wife. Distance between Jessica and you is the only way our intel can be confirmed. Do not get close. Never, ever, give her reason to suspect you are anything but madly in love with the Duke Atreides.”

“You never cried over my father.” Paul murmured to you, sitting on a dune during nightfall.

It was peaceful tonight. The dunes of Arrakis were calm, without wind whipping over the sand, without the whirr of Harkonnen machinery.

“The Fremen don’t waste water. We are Fremen.”

“No. Before. In the tent we slept in before Duncan found us, you did not cry. You were scared, and upset, but you…”

“I never loved your father. I was his wife in name and rank. But I never loved him.” you admitted, not looking at him.

Paul went quiet. He was a deep thinker, like his father. An inner monologue that only they were privy to playing in their head at all moments, a monologue that very rarely came to the surface.

“I knew your father for six months. We were married in a time of great uncertainty for your house, a time of great uncertainty for the Bene Gesserit and Landsraad. There was no time to love him. But I respected him.”

Paul gave a bob of his head. There was sand in his hair. You reached over, shaking it clean. His hair was getting long.

“You need a haircut.” 

“The Fremen don’t all have short hair.”

“Long hair on the warmest part of your head, the head that is most directly exposed to the sun, is a poor idea. Give me your crysknife.”

“It’s ceremonial.” Paul corrected, offended. “And Jessica has long hair, as does Chani.”

You sighed. That it was. They were only drawn when someone was to die, or when handed down from one individual to another. It would be borderline sacrilegious to use it for a haircut. Chani had thick hair, like the Fremen, and Paul had thick hair too, but he was complaining of headaches, from adjustment to the desert climate, you assumed.

“I’m cutting it off.” you decided.

One of the fremen had an iron knife, generally used for cooking. You cut Paul’s hair, leaving the top of his head longer and the sides short. You bagged the hair.

“Do you want to keep it?” you asked the boy.

“Hair doesn’t hold water.”

“It’s said to hold memory.” you murmured. “Do you want to keep it?”

Paul shook his head. He had enough memories in his head to remain unbothered with those from a scrap of hair.

“I’ll keep it.” Jessica murmured, reaching forward for the bag of hair.

She tucked it away in a pouch on her stillsuit. She seemed equally sentimental as she was a bit sad.

“I had a trimming of his baby hair.” Jessica murmured, brow furrowed. “It would have been burned with the rest of Arrakeen.”

You looked up at her, and then nodded once. A box of sentimental items was something you and Jessica seemed to share. Both went up in flames with the Arrakis city. The only thing left of your lives before being the both of you and Paul. Jessica settled beside you, sitting on the dune with you. She was deep in thought, and for good reason. The past was a territory she chartered regularly, for better or worse. 

“Were we ever competing for Leto?” Jessica asked, voice soft, and yet tinged with a scratchiness caused by water retention.

The thought itself was a sad one, and a bit difficult to answer. The Bene Gesserit order had dictated that you play the role of the devoted spouse. It was under their orders that you’d romance Leto, vying for his attention, for his trust, for his innermost thoughts; those that were not as secret as he may have believed. Perhaps you’d played a role in the downfall of House Atreides? No. Not perhaps. The information you’d provided the Reverend Mother had led to the Emperor’s decision to exterminate House Atreides. Of course you had never known it was the plan of the order, but… How much of the fall of House Atreides were you responsible for.

“I…”

Tears sprung in your eyes. Tears you couldn’t cry, a waste of a body’s water. And yet your chest ached. The muscles in your throat contracted painfully, and you blinked rapidly to dispel the tears. Tension grew in your lungs as your body fought against sobs.

“Oh.” Jessica said.

Oh.

Oh? That was all?

Leto rolled in his sleep, wet breath ghosting over your bare shoulder. You’d assumed he’d leave after the marital act, returning to his bed with Jessica, but he hadn’t. Rather, the man had slumped over into the bed, closing his eyes and letting out a weary sigh, as if to say ‘it’s done’. There was wetness between your thighs; wetness that you weren’t responsible for. Sure, you’d forced your body into being wet enough to take the Duke of House Atreides, but this particular remnant was not yours. It disturbed you.

The cool of the washroom felt heavenly, and you were grateful for the stone walls and the shades over the windows. Castle Atreides was wet, the rain of the ocean planet keeping a humidity in the air that would corrode traditional drywall. Not that the staff didn’t keep things spotless, but in most other circumstances, one could have fretted over black mold.

“What are you doing?” a deep baritone voice ghosted in the bathroom.

You were in the middle of scrubbing your skin clean, trying to rid yourself of the act.

“... Bathing.” you answered the Duke Leto.

He stared down at you for sometime.

“I shared the post-coital bath with Lady Jessica on our first night.” he mused.

“I am not her.” you replied, voice taut with a bit of discomfort.

Leto nodded, and without waiting for permission, he stepped inside the bath with you. It was a show of equality, giving you what he had given her. But it was wrong, in a lot of ways. You didn’t deserve his equality, even though the Bene Gesserit tasked you with taking more than equal share of his love.

“Does my age bother you?” Leto finally broke the silence.

“No.” you answered quickly. “It’s not about age, it’s about-”

“-Duty?” Leto cut you off.

You nodded once. The Duke of Caladan was attractive. No question about it. A chiseled jaw, a firm, strong build and commanding manner, he looked good for his age. Better than some men your age. There was appeal in his maturity, but appeal was besides the point.

“Should I expect this again?” he asked. “Should I expect to begin… Conception efforts?

The very words made you want to crawl out of your skin, and it was apparent on your face. So apparent was your discomfort that Leto let out a raspy laugh, shaking his head.

“So that’s a no.” Leto answered his own question.

“The Bene Gesserit wish that Paul remain the sole heir to your house.”

“They won’t have you bear even a daughter?” Leto asked in confusion.

You took a breath. Discussing the aims of your Sisterhood was not something you were allowed to do, but something Leto was confident enough in doing. It was because of Jessica. She had given him too much power, too much knowledge. Hence why he questioned you with such brazen authority.

“The aims of my Sisterhood are not to be discussed with my husband.”

“Well then I expect the same.” Leto darkly murmured.

The same? The concept baffled you. To speak about the Bene Gesserit to your husband was, by nature, against your orders. And to speak of your husband to the Bene Gesserit was your duty. 

“I… Cannot give you that.” you murmured.

“I will annul the marriage.”

The thought frightened you. For you to lose the marriage to House Atreides was of the highest failure. You would lose so much. Political rank, status in the Bene Gesserit… It could mean exile.

“Please, this is my duty we are discussing. I wouldn’t even be married to you without the Bene Gesserit.” you tried to explain.

“No, no you would not. And I wouldn’t even need the political stability from this marriage if it wasn’t for the Bene Gesserit. If you damn me with your meddling, I have no choice but to damn you.” Leto spoke, authoritarian commands reverberating off of the wall.

He was your husband, yes. But this was the Duke of Caladan and House Atreides you were talking to. He was a powerhouse, a force that could do just short of bending wind to his aims.

“I have a people to protect, a son.” Leto continued, eyes ablaze with ruthless determination. “You are new to this house. If it comes between choosing my son and my family’s protection over political stability, I will make that choice. Now promise me that you will not speak of me to the Bene Gesserit.”

“Duke Leto...”

“Promise me!”

His voice echoed off of the stone walls, crashing into you again and again. Your lower lip trembled. Duke Leto Atreides was not a bully, but he was a father. And sometimes those lines could blur.

“I promise.” you whispered, eyes wide and afraid.

Duke Leto visibly slackened in the tub, taking a deep breath in and releasing it. 

“I’ve scared you. I will take my leave of you, if that is what you wish.”

You gave one small nod, and Leto stood, leaving the tub and exiting the washroom. Perhaps if he’d maintained that iron grasp over you from the first night, perhaps if he’d inspired love, devotion, trust in him that Jessica had been privy too for over a decade… Perhaps if you had kept your promise, none of this would have happened.

The sietch was quiet. Unnaturally so. Jessica could feel the humidity with every breath she took. She hated it, for a myriad of reasons. Namely because it was like some perverted, hellish imitation of the humidity of her home Caladan. Not one breath she took had the cool taste of salt, all of it stank of bodies. Her stillsuit was a natural filter, and it sucked the moisture off of her skin, mostly. The residual moisture to cool the body made her feel itchy. All the time.

Paul was sleeping. He was an unusually light sleeper, always had been. But in the Fremen ranks, he slept deeply. It meant something, his relaxation, but Jessica was too bereaved to care on this particular night. Bereaved by the loss of Leto, the loss of her home world and safety, but also by the second body that lay beside her. Jessica was disturbed by the Duchess Atreides, former Lady Fenring, not to be confused with Margot Fenring. Paul had brought up a point, about her crying. The Duchess had never cried, not once. The despair of the burning city of Arakeen, the death of Duke Leto, the confusion and panic; none of it had brought a tear to her eye. But that simple question over competition had brought out an almost haunted reaction from her, and fostered a sadistic fascination inside Jessica. Jessica knew the language of the body. She knew the cues and the faces one might make in different emotions, she’d been taught this. The duchess had been ashamed. Guilty, crippled with some unseen burden. Perhaps it was time that Jessica dug into that.

“I can hear you’re awake.” Jessica murmured, reaching up to stroke a hand through her companion’s hair.

The gesture itself was false. Jessica wasn’t intending to be kind, or comforting at this moment. She wanted answers.

“I can’t sleep.” came the response.

Jessica hummed at this, turning her body to rest against [Reader]’s, spooning the young woman from behind.

“Why?”

You could feel Jessica’s breath on your neck. It was fainter than Leto’s had been. Everything she did, every movement or question the woman asked, it was dissected by you. A game of analysis, the both of you brushing hands in tender show of affection while each sheathed a knife under their sleeve. It was an exhausting and all too familiar game. And perhaps one worth burying, along with the dead.

“It’s my fault that Leto is dead.”

Jessica stiffened, and you could hear the audible slowing of her breath. 

“Explain.” 

There was no time to gather your thoughts. Not these thoughts, anyways.

“The Bene Gesserit tasked me with reporting information regarding House Atreides and their affairs. I told them everything about the Duke, about Paul and about you. For six months.” you admitted, voice growing progressively unsteady as you continued.

It was so difficult not to cry, and you were consumed by grief, guilt, shame. Too consumed to pay attention to the cues Jessica gave as she processed your statement.

“Do you think we didn’t know?”

The sentence was so soft spoken, you almost didn’t catch it.

“What?” you whimpered.

A hand cupped your face. Tenderly, without an ulterior motive.

“Did you think that Leto and I did not guess that you were reporting information back to the Bene Gesserit?” Jessica repeated, voice gentle.

“But I promised him I wouldn’t.” 

Jessica smiled, a soft, achingly sad smile.

“Yes. You promised him, a false promise given under coercion through fear and threat of political exile and potential deposition. I was a Bene Gesserit first, you must remember this. Your loyalty to the Sisterhood was something we factored in, everything we did under your eyes was, in essence, filtered.”

Filtered? They’d been showing you a reality that hadn’t been true? Your breath caught as you processed, hardly breathing as further thoughts raced through your head, memories crowding outward. Did this mean that you never knew them, for all this time? That you never knew your Duke? The man you were wedded to, the man you could’ve loved… You’d never even gotten a fair chance at love with him. Jessica had stacked the odds in her favor before you’d even begun playing the game. Not one moment of affection from him could be trusted, some of the memories you were just now learning to cherish, it had all been a lie.

“No, no, don’t waste your water!” Jessica whispered, desperately trying to prevent you from crying.

It was too late. Tears streamed down your cheeks, salty and concentrated with all kinds of neurotransmitters and other various compounds. Jessica, for her credit, thought fast. Her lips pressed over your cheeks, working quickly to collect the moisture.

“No…” you sobbed.

Jessica cradled your head with one hand, holding your body to her with the other. This was the grief she’d been searching for, the pain. And it wasn’t as satisfying as she wished it could have been. Sure, the games she’d played against you had been for the good of her family, for the good of Atreides, but it wasn’t easy hurting people. It wasn’t easy throwing them under, like a riptide ghosting over the shores of Caladan. But for better or worse, the outcome was the same. You’d both lost things in the feud, in the deceit. Jessica had lost her husband, a husband outside of traditional binds, a husband of the soul. You’d lost your livelihood, your innocence, your… 

As Jessica held you in her arms, she realized just how alike the two of you were. How different things could have been if you met under different circumstances. Jessica didn’t have many allies now. No political connections, no ties to the desert planet and peoples. She had a son, fifteen and burdened with a peculiar, tortured purpose. Jessica had a fetal daughter, stirring and swimming about as she developed, too young to know the danger that awaited. And finally, Jessica had this woman in her arms. A Bene Gesserit, a powerful young woman whom Jessica could work with. An ally, perhaps. A companion, most certainly. A reason to move forward with haste.

“Jessica.” she heard you whimper.

Leaning down, Jessica smiled softly, cupping your face. There was a tear on your upper lip. 

“Yes?”

Another tear fell, but Jessica would wait to collect it, wait for you to speak.

“I’m sorry. For everything.”

She leaned down, collecting the freshly fallen tear on your cheek, and then lower. A soft kiss, the brush of her tongue over the wet upper lip concealed with the plush of her mouth.

“I’m sorry too.”

Her head dipped to yours, and for the first time, Jessica could feel a twin heartbeat, low and rapid. Alia’s tiny, six week heart had begun to beat.

Epilogue

“Alia!” you shouted, chasing after the toddler.

Even with Alia’s higher consciousness, she was young, rambunctious, and as fond as her mother is of games.

“Can’t get me!” Alia squealed, darting through the sietch, moving so fast you could hardly keep up.

The little tot was small, blonde haired as Jessica would have been at her age, and fast. But the robes she wore, the robes of the Sayyadina, were a bit too long for her, meant to grow with the little warrior child. She tripped, and went sprawling over the stone floor of the sietch. Alia cried out, breath immediately speeding up in her body’s attempt to formulate a reactionary cry.

“Oh, honey.” you spoke, wrapping the toddler up in your arms.

Her brown eyes were wide and teary, and she did her best not to sniffle. Alia was, after all, an adult in the body of a child. But that child’s body was filled with child emotions and feelings. Falls hurt a lot, and this fall was probably the worst Alia had experienced so far.

“Hurts.” Alia whimpered. “Can’t… ‘M gonna cry.”

You chuckled, kissing her soft cheeks as the child tried not to cry. You found the scraped knee, gently kissing that too. Soft footsteps came behind you, and two hands encircled your shoulders as Jessica crouched down.

“Did someone fall?” Jessica asked, tone sincere and non-patronizing.

“Yes.” Alia stuck out her bottom lip.

Jessica chuckled, gently taking Alia from your arms. Both you and your companion gently worked to bring Alia down from the pinnacle of tears, soothing her sore knee with kisses. Alia was adorable like this. It was the only time she ever let the two of you baby her.

“Mommies?” Alia asked. “Love you.”

You both smiled, taking terms kissing over her face as she squealed in delight. It was a soft moment during tense times. 

“Alia, should we attack Momma with kisses?” Jessica fake-whispered to Alia.

“YES!” Alia screeched, little hands grabbing at your face as she kissed all over your face and hair. 

Jessica was right with her, holding you in place and kissing over the bridge of your nose, your cheeks, your chin, your neck. And as Alia pulled away to giggle, she snagged your jaw in her hands, pressing a firm kiss to your lips.

“Eww!!!” Alia whined.

Jessica chuckled, and you both doubled down, kissing each other more passionately to mollify the little toddler beneath you. But as you pulled away, you both felt Alia’s hands on your faces, and a wry grin on her tiny cheeks.

“Mommy’s turn!”

Both you and Alia pounced on Jessica, covering the usually stoic woman with kisses until she shrieked with laughter. Time healed a lot of wounds. And the past was something you cherished, almost as much as you cherished the present. Alia made sure of that.

Tags: @ilovehotactresses, @marvelwomenrule, @coffee-is-my-oxygen, @bjoerkumlaut, @lovelyy-moonlight

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[memento-rory]

✭ 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞.

✭ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and tyler keep meeting in unexpected places.

✭ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: erm tyler may be a lil ooc. 😗

✭ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: ~3k.

✭ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: cc!reader. i literally love this little freak, so i had to get more out for him. this fic is very silly, but tyler is a silly guy, so it works out. enjoy! 💚

Roblox. Everyone and their mothers were playing it nowadays, and all of your social media, your text chat, your comment section were chock full of your fans pleading for you to finally start playing it yourself.

You’d seen a ton of videos of your friends playing it — specifically the Koury sisters — and it had always looked so fun. You reached out to Kalynn and Weston to see what servers they’d recommend, and they’d given you a list of all their favorites and what performed well, which was equally as important as you having fun since you were starting to get big.

You sat down at your desk, booting up Roblox. Once you created your account, you were immediately launched into the avatar customization. For a while, you debated picking the silliest options you could find, but you ended up creating an avatar that looked like a mini version of you with a cute little outfit that you’d wear irl.

You hopped into a couple different games, just getting a feel for the controls and how different servers work. After you decided you’d figured it out well enough, you started to film.

“Okay guys, you finally wore me down — today, we’re playing Roblox, and I’m about to find me a man.” You grinned mischievously at the camera, before clicking on a server called Neighbors, a 17+ server where you get paired up with strangers to chat in a little house.

You opened every conversation in the same way, saying, “I’m looking for a man. Tell me why you think it should be you.”

You found a couple people who made you laugh, bantering with them for a few minutes before moving on. All of it was going to make for really good content. You realized why everyone was playing Roblox. Shit was fun.

Your video was starting to push an hour without editing, probably about forty minutes with editing, so you decided to do one more round before calling it quits.

“Alright, y’all. It’s my last chance to find a man. Wish me luck.” You said, clicking ‘skip’ to move onto the next person.

You were matched with a user named Dr_Poop50. Their avatar was the standard Roblox avatar.

“Oh, this guy is giving me nothing to work with.” You told the camera.

“Okay, well, that’s rude.” A deep voice came from the user, and you covered your mouth as you realized you weren’t muted.

“Look, Dr. Poop, I’m trying to find me a man, and I’m sorry, but I’ve got nothing to go off of here.”

“Oh, damn! Okay!” He let out a little chuckle.

“Tell me why you think it should be you.”

“Well, I’m 6’7, for starters.”

“Meh.” You shrugged, sounding disinterested, but giggling at the offended sound he made at that.

“I’m really good at ping pong. How ‘bout that?”

“Okay, now we’re getting somewhere. I can’t be seen with someone who’s bad at ping pong.”

“I’m also rich, just by the way.”

“And you couldn’t even spare a couple bucks to customize your avatar? I’m supposed to believe you have money, looking like that?”

“Keep bullying me and I’m gonna fall in love with you.”

You muted your mic for just a moment. “Chat, we got him.” You grinned, before unmuting, “Do you wanna get Roblox married?”

“Fuck yeah. Can’t believe I have a new Roblox wife.”

“We’re gonna have soooo many Roblox babies.”

“I draw the line at babies. You’re gonna have to get a Roblox abortion.”

You clicked your tongue at that. “You can’t Roblox police Roblox women’s Roblox bodies.”

“Fine. Then I’m gonna get a Roblox lawyer and serve you Roblox divorce papers.”

“Good luck with that. How are you gonna get a Roblox lawyer with no Roblox money?”

“Shiiit.”

“You’re stuck with me forever, babe.”

“At least let me sign a Roblox pre-nup. Can’t let you take me for all I’m Roblox worth.”

“…Which, again, doesn’t seem to be a lot.”

He let out another laugh, the sound honestly kind of giving you butterflies. He had a nice voice. “Ouch, dude.”

Truthfully, this guy matched your energy so well that you didn’t really want to stop bantering with him, but your video was already too long.

“I can’t Roblox take this anymore. I’m taking the Roblox kids and moving to Roblox Montana and you’ll never Roblox see me again.”

“Nooooo!” The guy yelled quietly, and you left the game, giggling to yourself.

About two days later, you finally finished editing the video and uploaded it to your channel.

I Met My Ex-Husband on Roblox!

When you checked back in on it after a few hours, you realized the comments were flooded with several different versions of the same thing.

> writingsbyzuzu: (Y/N) AND HANSUMFELLA? my worlds are colliding

> bobthebuildersimp: no way you just met hansumfella and had no idea

> drfreaky: (y/n) met hansumfella and married him in a matter of minutes… what’s it like to live my Dream

Who is Hansumfella? You thought to yourself, your eyebrows furrowing, And why is everyone freaking out?

You had to figure this out, so as soon as you had some free time, you sat down and looked up Hansumfella on Youtube. Your eyebrows shot up as you noticed he had just uploaded a video, just moments before yours had gone up.

I Got Married AND Divorced in Roblox…

In the thumbnail was a screenshot of your avatar surrounded by hearts, with what you could only assume was Hansumfella’s face on the left. Christ. He was handsome as fuck. You supposed that’s why his username was what it was.

You clicked on the video, watching it all the way through. He’d met almost all the same people you had, including someone who lamented how they’d missed their chance with “some girl running this place like an episode of the Bachelor” to him.

Hansumfella commiserated with them, before addressing his audience. “We’re gonna find this girl and we’re gonna fuckin’ win the Bachelor.”

And find you, he did. It was kind of endearing to watch his perspective of the silly conversation the two of you had. He looked like he was genuinely having a good time, which made you feel even better about the whole interaction.

You scrolled down to his comments and they looked almost identical to yours.

> drfreaky: can’t believe you let (Y/N) go like that, man

> writingsbyzuzu: this is CRAZY how do you meet (Y/N) and not realize it’s (Y/N)!!!

> bobthebuildersimp: (Y/N) scored the bachelor of all bachelors

You wondered if Hansumfella read his comments, if maybe he was doing the same thing you were right now.

As if on cue, you received a notification from Twitter.

@HansumFellaLIVE has followed you!

You didn’t waste a second before following him back. Shortly after, another notification came in, this time letting you know that Hansumfella had tweeted at you.

@HansumFellaLIVE: @yourusername miss you wifey 😔

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you, immediately feeling the butterflies return to you. You sat for a second, wondering how to respond. Your viewers knew you to be pretty flirty (hence the Roblox Bachelor video), so you decided to play it up for your mutual audience.

@yourusername: @HansumFellaLIVE your kids miss their daddy… and so do i 😏

A week came and went, and you hadn’t heard anything else from Hansumfella — or Tyler, as you learned from his twitter account. It didn’t bother you, really. He was a stranger, just as much as you were. Meeting for five seconds on Roblox didn’t mean anything in the grand scheme of things.

Anyway, you needed to film your next video. With the news of Omegle potentially shutting down for good, you decided to return to it one final time for your viewers.

“Alright, guys, since my last relationship didn’t work out — RIP my marriage to Hansumfella — I’m on Omegle to give it one last shot.” You told your viewers.

As Omegle loaded up, you stared at the bar where you were meant to type in your interests. “What should I put? …TikTok, maybe?”

You did exactly that, and met only a handful of normal people, trying to flirt with people clearly of age, and asking for relationship advice from people who clearly weren’t. It was going really well, and you were just about to bring the video to a close, but realized you had time for one more interaction.

You couldn’t believe your eyes as the next person appeared on your screen.

Tyler was staring at you, his mouth agape, but he looked delighted. He pointed at you, and you mimicked his expression, pointing back at him.

“No fuckin’ way,” Tyler laughed, leaning back in his chair, “It’s my wife! How are you? How are the kids?”

“Oh, they’re just perfect,” You answered him sarcastically, playing into the bit, “They keep asking me when daddy’s coming back home from the store. I keep telling them there’s a milk shortage so it’s taking you a long ass time to find some.”

“Don’t blame this on me,” Tyler smiled at you, chuckling, “You’re the one that ran off to Roblox Montana. I was just trying to do right by y’all.”

“All I’m saying is that you should have fought for us.” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“You’re right, you’re right.” Tyler held his hands up in surrender. “What can I do to fix this?”

“Come home to us.”

Tyler clapped his hands together, nodding his head. “Daddy’s comin’ home.”

You couldn’t help it — you broke at that, letting out a cackle, which made Tyler start laughing too.

“This is fuckin’ nuts,” You shook your head in disbelief as your laughter died down. “No way I’m running into you randomly again. What are the odds?”

“I don’t know, but they seem to be in my favor.” Tyler grinned at you. You felt your cheeks heat up at his flirtatious statement, though you couldn’t be sure if he actually meant it or if he was just playing it up for the camera.

“My viewers are gonna eat this shit up.” You told him, letting out another laugh as you spoke.

“No, for real,” Tyler nodded, “Literally everyone has been all up in my shit asking if we were gonna start collabing.”

“Dude, same! My comment section, my twitch chat, my fuckin’ twitter mentions. It’s, like, all I see.”

“Maybe this’ll hold ‘em over until the next time we run into each other.” Tyler said, sitting up a little straighter, “If you do actually want to collab, I mean.”

“You wanna collab?” You asked, a little surprised. You weren’t expecting him to actually want to work with you past the silly bit between the two of you.

“Yeah, dude,” Tyler chuckled at your surprised expression. “You’re funny as fuck, and obviously we share an audience. Could be fun.”

“And good for your channel,” You teased, “You just wanna use me for my numbers,”

“Fuck, you got me.” Tyler released a heavy sigh, throwing his hands up in mock frustration.

“All good,” A mischievous grin spread across your face, “I just wanna use you for your numbers too.”

“I knew you were a gold digger, before I even Roblox married you, I knew it!” Tyler immediately got back into character, almost whisper yelling as he pointed an accusatory finger at his camera.

“Yeah, and what good did that do me?” You mimicked his actions, scowling at your camera, “Not a single cent in Roblox child support!”

You and Tyler dissolved into giggles again at your stupid bit. Once you’d calmed down again, you were about to tell him you needed to move on for the sake of your video, but he started asking you questions about yourself, so you indulged him. Every time there was a lull in the conversation — which wasn’t really all that often — he would start up another one, almost like he didn’t want to stop talking to you.

“Tyler,” You finally said, feigning disappointment at him, “You’ve completely ruined my video. I can’t put any of this out.”

“I know, I know,” Tyler held his hands up, smiling softly, “Guess I just like talking to you or whatever.” He made a big show of rolling his eyes, but that sweet smile stayed on his face.

Heat rose up in your cheeks again, and you shook your head, laughing a little. “We can keep talking, I’d just rather do it somewhere that isn’t Omegle.”

“That’s fair.” Tyler chuckled, nodding slowly. “Give me your phone number.”

Okay, direct. You liked that.

“Why, so you can post it and dox me?”

“Oh my Goddd,” Tyler groaned playfully, throwing his head back. He told you his number instead, and you put it in your phone.

“Tell the kids I miss them.” Tyler said wistfully as you geared up to end your recording and get off of Omegle.

“Tell ‘em yourself.” You spit out, disconnecting with a giggle.

You and Tyler ended up texting at almost all hours of the day for the next week or so. The two of you made a plan to post your Omegle videos at the same time, to maximize your joint slay, as Tyler had said.

Your video goes up with the title I Saw My Ex On Omegle?!

When you got the notification that he had posted his version, your eyes went wide at the title.

I Interviewed My Celebrity Crush on Omegle…

The thumbnail was a screenshot of you with all of your features blurred, but your room was clearly visible behind you, giving you away to anyone who was familiar with you.

You decided to sit down and watch his version, curious to see what he kept in and what he didn’t. Of course, the original bit made the cut, and you couldn’t help but laugh as you watched it back.

Tyler had kept a lot more in the video than you were expecting. A good portion of the conversation you’d had made it in, but it was mostly just questions he had asked you and answers you’d given him. It definitely played out like an interview, hence the title of his video.

You scrolled down to the comments, blushing as you read all of his viewers squealing over him calling you his celebrity crush. Obviously he was just playing it up for his audience, there was no way he had a crush on you for real, right?

The comments of your video looked almost exactly the same, asking you if you’d seen the title of his video or all caps statements about how much they loved the two of you together.

It wasn’t long before you got a text from Tyler to discuss the reception of your videos.

> from: tyler

>> Hey wifey

>> Looks like people are really fuckin with the new vid

>> Where should we bump into each other next?

You felt yourself grinning at the message, excited to potentially work with him again — strictly professionally, of course.

“Alright, y’all, we’ve got a real good stream lined up tonight.” You grinned, putting your headphones on. “I snagged an invite to the SDMP. Let’s go annoy all of your favorite creators.”

As soon as you spawned in to the SDMP, your chat erupted with demands to find different creators — though most of them were just demands to find Tyler — and you giggled at the scrolling text.

“Guys, calm down! I literally just got here. Let me get settled in!” You told your chat, as you wandered through the server, marveling at all the nice houses and builds.

As you wandered into the residential area, a familiar voice drifted into your ears.

“There she is!” Tyler said as he made his way over to you, “There’s my wife!”

You turned to look at him, eyeing your camera with fake annoyance before looking back at your screen. “Babe, where are the kids? It’s your weekend.”

“They’re fine.” Tyler answered, “They’re with the nanny.”

“I didn’t think you could afford a nanny.” You teased.

“I shelled out a little extra so I had someone to watch ‘em while I make things right with mommy.” Tyler replied, chuckling quietly. “Please, take me back. Let’s build a house together and live happily ever after.”

You muted your mic for just a second to say, “Chat, what do you think? Should I take him back?”

Hundreds of variations of YES! flooded your chat.

“I wanna live in a mansion.” You told Tyler, and his skin started to jump up and down in excitement.

“Fuck yeah,” Tyler laughed, “I’ll give you anything you want, wifey.”

“Let’s have another baby.”

“…Anything but that.”

You and Tyler spent hours gathering supplies and building a house together, just shooting the shit like you had been for days.

Truthfully, you had a hard time discerning what was actual flirting from him and what was being played up for his stream, but the longer you spent together, the more real it all felt.

When it started to get late, you decided to end your stream, but stayed on the server for just a little while longer before bed. Tyler had opted to do the same, mentioning he wasn’t quite ready to head to bed yet either.

“I forgot to tell you,” Tyler started offhandedly, “I’m gonna be in LA next week. I’d love to see you, if you’d be down to chill. You could show me your favorite lunch spot.”

You paused your building, your skin growing warm at the offer. “Like a date?” You chanced to ask, and you heard Tyler’s laughter in your ear.

“Yeah, like a date.” Tyler confirmed. “Unless you’re not into that. I just thought we were vibing, but I didn’t know if it was just for show or—”

“No, no, I’m super into that.” You interrupted, smiling.

“Fuck yeah,” Tyler breathed, “Because I’m super into you.”

[starryeyedjanai]

this post has me thinking about steve and eddie falling in love with each other through writing fanfic in the 80s

because in the eighties before you could publish stuff online, you had communities that would send each other hand written fic, right?

steve and eddie both end up writing fic for spock/kirk

steve gets into it because he and claudia watch star trek together and they've been watching it for years when she shows him some cute fluffy fic a friend of hers wrote and he finds that he really likes it. maybe he starts off not knowing that he likes guys, but through fic he realizes that hey, he's kind of felt things about guys before that's similar to the stuff he's reading

and he gets enmeshed in this somewhat local community of fic writers and they all mail each other fic and give each other feedback and write on post it notes how much they loved reading it before passing it along to the next person

and steve has a particular writer that he's absolutely enamored with

the way they write, the tales they weave, it's all so good. they're funny and some of the spicy stuff they write is good and he's always so excited whenever he opens a letter and it's their fic. and he thinks he's like falling for some housewife from Indianapolis and he's a little embarrassed about it because they only sign their name as EM so he has no idea who it is. (he's also embarrassed because some of the spicy stuff claudia writes is also good, but he tries not to think about how his friend's mom knows so much nsfw stuff about what two guys can get up to)

but anyway, he keeps writing long detailed commentary about EM's fics and sending it along to the next person meanwhile when Eddie gets his fics back, he's like lovestruck at steve's comments on his fics because he really gets it - really gets what eddie was going for. he understands the yearning eddie's trying to capture and he offers little meta-analyses about eddie's fics and some of the episodes and eddie is also like damn i'm really falling for someone's wife, aren't i?

anyway steve doesn't write his own fic yet because he doesn't have the confidence in his writing ability but EM encourages him so he eventually does write fic and EM ends up being his biggest cheerleader and offers him help in areas where he thinks he struggles so they start mailing stuff back and forth to each other before it goes out to the larger group

and they start sharing stuff about their real lives and they both come to realize that the person they're talking to isn't a woman and isn't married like most of the women in the community are

and then they're collaborating on fics together and writing some of the best stuff eddie's ever written and he's falling in love and steve is too

maybe they eventually share their identities over letters, and maybe there's a meetup one day and their eyes lock as soon as they see each other and steve is nervous. he's nervous because he's kind of idolized EM for so long and he doesn't want to say the wrong thing. because writing him has been easy, he has time to think about what he wants to say and how he wants to say it. but talking in person is much more on the spot thinking which he's never been good at

but he meets him and eddie seems just as nervous, not nearly as eloquent with his words in person as he is in the fanfiction steve's been reading for close to a year now. but steve thinks he's charming and he's just as enamored in person as he was over the letters they've been sending each other.

on the ride home, claudia is chattering away about how nice everyone is and how nervous she was to meet them, but they're all so sweet in person. and steve is half-listening, clutching the slip of paper eddie gave him with his number on it

[inukag-archive]

Hello! I don't know if this would be appropriate, but is there any good AU where Inu is a playboy, a womanizer at first? I just like this kind of trop 😅 But I'm new in this fandom and don't know any yet.

Hi anon, and welcome to the fandom! Don't worry, there's no shame in liking a certain trope. The Inukag Archive is a judgement-free zone!

Playboy!Inuyasha was a pretty popular trope on FF.net at one time, so we were able to find a decent amount of stories for you. Hope you find something you enjoy below!

Happiness by @witchygirl99 (M)

Inuyasha is an unobservant rich bastard. He has an OCD assistant and a perverted financial planner. Enter Kagome, a woman who has her own rules on how to live. He wants sex. She wants happiness. Well, that's only what they'll admit...

--

A deal with a demon by @ajoy3fanfics (M)

In order to save her family's shrine from debt, Kagome reluctantly agrees to marry Inuyasha, the wealthy son of her grandfathers late friend. Inuyasha is far from thrilled about the match. According to his fathers will, he must marry if he wishes to gain his inheritance. Is this couple doomed from the start, or can they manage to find wedded bliss?

--

Aesthetic by Autumn Dragon (T)

 I was cocky, gorgeous, and one of Japan's Most Wanted bachelors. At first, all I wanted was to get into her pants. Now, even I have to admit that she was different from the others. Very different. Damn, I love a challenge.

Sequel: Houdini's Affair (T)

--

Break Me by ShadowBluebell (M)

It was a simple trip to the store. Saving a playboy's life from a hit-and-run had been a bonus. No big deal. Until said playboy shows up at her door, intent on showing his appreciation… in his own way. Let the game of seduction begin. 

--

A Little Dessert by @witchygirl99 (M)

Kagome is a waitress who always looks after Inuyasha's table. Inuyasha is a player with a new girl every week. He likes the restaurant and the service Kagome gives. Secretly? He doesn't really come for the dessert, unless you think of it that way.

--

The Bet by Mesmerizing Love (M)

He is a player. He always thought that girls were toys that are used for only one thing. Until he met a virgin who he desperately wanted to break, so he made a bet that he would, but she was so hard to break and he never realized that he actually would fall in love instead… 

--

Cheaters by @inunanna (T)

Everyone in the office knew Kagome and Inuyasha were having a not-so-secret affair. They weren't EXACTLY wrong... (Not a cheating fic)

--

If It Hadn't Been For Love by Reckless Dreamer Yuna (M)

Inuyasha? He's a player. A damn good one at that. But one girl he can't break through to, is Kagome. But it's not easy, trying to bed her, while trying not to fall in love with her. What will happen if he gets his heart broken again?

--

Dead Famous by Torenza (M)

The most wanted prize bachelor is up for grabs... but the one who gets him is the only one who doesn’t want to keep him...

--

Til Death Do Us Part by Jade Catseye (M)

Kagome hates Inuyasha. Inuyasha hates Kagome. What happens when the sexy playboy and fiery schoolgirl are forced to undergo holy matrimony? 

--

A Southern Cinderella by DeletedAccountNotChangingMind (T)

Who cares if he partied a little, why should his parents not like that he liked women, so he partied, had sex, and races fast cars, why should he be punished for doing so. And why should he have to be sent to a farm to gain 'work ethic? Honestly?

--

Broken Hearts by Jezzie Lynn (M)

Inuyasha is a cruel playboy. Kagome gave him a chance and they stay together. But Kagome gets raped and finds she's pregnant. Who is the father? And is someone trying to kill her and her friends?

--

The Life of a Devil by SnowShadowuser (T)

Kagome, an assassin, finds out that she has only two months to live thanks to a mysterious and deadly virus...willingly, she takes on her last job; to find and to kill the notorious playboy, known as the American secret agent - Inuyasha...

--

A Player's Heart Recast by inukag-lover1600 (T)

If you fell in love with a 'womanizer' what are you to do? Simple. Just change him. InuxKag MirxSan KouxAya

[atomic--peach]

Her Grace's Handmaiden Pt 14

(Cersei Lannister x Fem Reader x Sandor Clegane: Light Smut)

(As promised, here is the link to the version of the story https://archiveofourown.org/works/48276340 It varies slightly in that it is an OC fic instead of a reader insert)

News of Lord Tyrion's kidnapping found your ear by accident. You were sure the queen had not let the information slip purposefully, letting her tongue slip in agitation.

The days after the tourney were particularly quiet, in the same way the world is quiet before a crack of lightning cuts through the sky. There was some talk of Lord Stark retracing Jon Arryn's last steps before his death, news that you relayed to Cersei casually.

"How do you know that?" The queen, leaned up from the mattress, staring at you with inquisitive eyes.

You only shrugged.

"Walls have ears, My Queen. I've learned to be a very good listener"

"What do you know?"

You adjusted on the Queen's bed. The two of you had been taking an afternoon rest, allowing the royal chambers to entomb you from the rest of the world and their prying eyes.

"I know he borrowed the book Jon Arryn had from Pycelle, I know he's been going into the city almost every day, though I don't know where exactly. And I know he had a keen interest in Jon Arryn's last words."

"His last words?" Cersei's attention was piqued. "Do you know what they were?" "The Seed Is Strong," you said slowly, watching her face for a reaction. Cersei's brow knitted together in what could have been confusion as much as it could have been concern.

"How long has this been going on?"

"Since the Tourney, I think."

It was only a few weeks after that the twins were informed their brother had been kidnapped off the King's Road by Catelyn Stark. You were stunned. What could have possibly gotten into Lady Stark that she would kidnap a man who was a guest in her home a little over a month ago?

If the Stark sisters knew anything about it, they didn't show it. Not Sansa anyway. After the drama of the tourney, Sansa started sticking closer to you. You walked through the Gods Wood in the mornings, lounged in the shaded balconies and pavilions during the heat of the afternoon, and in the evenings, Sansa seemed reluctant to part.

One day, you just couldn't help but ask. "My Lady? Not that I mind at all." you began, "But I've noticed during our visits, you have always seemed to have a question on the tip of your tongue. May I ask what it is?"

Sansa blanched as if she had been trying to keep her intentions secret.

"I-" she began, a thick blush filling her pale little face. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to pry, it's just-" The two of you settle on a stone bench in the garden, shaded by a flowering bush from the growing intensity of the sun. "I was hoping that you could help me with the prince."

"I can certainly try" you tried not to laugh, "But I think there is little I can do."

"It's just, you and Ser Clegane seem to mesh so naturally" Sansa's face looked pitifully forlorn. "And I was hoping it would be the same for Prince Joffrey and me, but ever since the King's Road it's like he can't stand to be around me." You listened sympathetically, suddenly remembering what it was like to be a love-struck teenager. "How did you do it?"

"Oh, my love" you sighed, touching Sansa's hand gently, "This is a problem that has plagued women for generations. It always seems that the one you want doesn't want anything to do with you, and the one you don't want won't get out from under your feet."

Sansa nodded at this as if you were speaking wisdom new to her ears.

"In perfect truth," you confided, "Sandor couldn't stand me when we first met."

"Really?" Sansa gawked, "But the way he looks at you!"

"A very recent development." you laughed, "When we first met, he thought I was a fool and a pest, but when we were out on the road…I don't know I just felt safe around him. Somehow I knew that if I was around him, nothing bad could happen to me."

"What changed?"

"We got married." you looked sheepish, suddenly remembering the story you were to stick to, "He asked, and it seemed to be out of the blue at the time, but afterward we just sort of settled into each other. We took care of each other."

"Did your father…" Sansa began to ask before wondering if she was stepping too far, "Did your father like him? Did he approve?"

You thought on this. you wondered what your real father would think of all this, but you never knew him so it was impossible to say.

"Every father has a hard time accepting their eldest daughter is leaving them" you finally said. "I was old enough that I think he thought I would stick around forever to take care of him. But, in the end, he knew that this was the best thing for me, so he accepted it. What else could he do, really?"

Sansa thought on this very seriously for a moment, a look that didn't fit her youthful features. She had a face for laughing and smiling, not brooding.

It was soon after your meeting in the Gods Wood that Sansa's father was attacked.

The actual story was muddied.

When in Cersei's bed, the queen insisted to her that Ned Stark attacked Jaime in a drunken rage. But, of the little you had seen of the Hand, you had not once seen him drink. All the same, you took Jaime's side. As did Sandor, though silently and more out of duty than anything else.

After the brawl, Ser Jaime fled the city and your husband could not help but joke while the two of you managed to steal a private moment in one of the Keep's many staircases.

"At least I won't have to worry about his pulling you into his lap anymore."

"Sandor!" You laughed and smacked his chest lightly, "He never actually had me on his lap, you know." "No, he just had you on his-" You reached up to cover his mouth before the next world could spill out. "Will you be quiet?" you hissed, "Father be Good, the man's not even in city limits and you're still seething in jealousy."

"Am not."

"No?" you grinned, stopping to make sure you were still alone, "I bet if I even said his name, you'd have me against this wall in a heartbeat."

Sandor paused, turning before climbing the steps back to you, getting intimately close. "Want to try it and find out?"

you bit your lip, leaning away from him before grinning mischievously. "Jai-"

The name wasn't even out of your mouth before your breath was whisked out of your lungs. Suddenly much higher than you had been, Sandor had you flush against the wall, pulling your legs around his hips so the only thing keeping you from falling was him and the brick you were pressed against.

"Sa-" "No, no, no" Sandor corrected you, glowering with a face that you couldn't resist teasing. "Say his name. I want to hear you say it one last time before I fuck it from your memory"

You hummed mockingly for a moment as if trying to remember what name you were about to say. "Let me think….you know? I've completely forgotten what we were talking about."

"Hm, is that so?" Sandor pressed, a smile playing across his lips.

"Completely forgotten, honest." you insisted with a laugh. "I have, I swear."

"How convenient for you." You lazily draped your arms over your husband's shoulders as he kissed you, pressing you to the wall firmly. One hand crept up your leg and moved to cup your ass firmly before exploring further up to your waist, then to the fullness of your breasts where it squeezed and groped. You breathed through the kiss as his thumb found your nipple and began to rub in circles through the fabric.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't pull up that pretty dress of yours and fuck you against this wall," Sandor growled and you felt yourself melt into him.

"I don't have one." You confessed with an eager smile, "Maybe you should go for it."

"Hm." He chuckled into the kiss before pulling away. "I have one."

"What?" Your heart sank as he dropped you back to the ground. "What, why?" "Because, my love." He kissed the top of your head with a knowing smile, "You don't deserve it."

"What?!"

"Have a good night, I have the night watch."

"Sandor!" You called after him, the ache he had created in your core lingering as you watched him go.

You pouted alone in the torchlight before biting your lip. It's fine, you thought, I have other options.

Cersei laughed as she and her lover fumbled through her bedroom door. You had been extra attentive all day in the hopes of an invitation and just as you hoped, Cersei's hands began to wandering around dinner time.

By dessert, Cersei had excused herself and cued you to meet her at the doors of the Royal Quarters.

"Darling." Cersei breathed between kisses. "Yes, my queen."

"Help me with this here?" Your fingers quickly worked any clasp or tie on the Queen's dress, working on muscle memory as your lips found the lioness's collarbone and peppered it with kisses.

"Good Girl" Cersei sighed, starting to work on your clothing as well.

Since Ser Jaime had left the city, something in your dynamic had changed. Cersei was now more willing to receive pleasure as opposed to only giving. She no longer tutted with disapproval when your hands instinctively went to touch her. Instead, she welcomed her lover's embrace.

Once you were both undressed, Cersei pushed you back onto the bed and watched as you spread your thighs eagerly. Cersei's clever mouth kissed up your legs, lingering at the most sensitive spots that made you jump and giggle before crawling between your legs.

You didn't remember the last time Cersei was so attentive, lavishing your cunt with careful licks and gentle thrusts of her fingers. It was so good and yet not enough.

"Please" you whimpered, bucking your hips with Cersei's hand, "harder."

But Cersei ignored you, continuing at her slow, even tempo. Once in a while, she would curl her fingers up, pressing on the rough tissue that made your mouth fall open with a moan only to return to the same steady rhythm.

You began to grow impatient, trying to speed up the pace only to be punished with a swift smack to the thigh.

"My Queen," You begged, "Please. I need more."

"So greedy." Cersei purred, not bothering to indulge your pleading. "But unfortunately for you, a little hound told me you've been very bad."

Your blood ran cold.

"I- no!" Another smack came down like lightning, leaving a handprint on the softness of your thigh.

"Now, now, now, it's not polite to lie Sweetling" Cersei curled her fingers again, playing at your g-spot only to stop as the moans began to roll from your throat.

"I'm sorry." you whimpered contritely, whining as Cercei withdrew her hand and crawled up the bed towards your face.

"I'm sure you're very sorry now, aren't you." The queen teased, rolling your breasts in her hands, "You thought you could come to me and I'd give you what he forbade. Why, I almost feel taken advantage of."

"No." Your eyes widened and you pouted so well it almost coaxed some leniency from the queen, "I'm sorry, My Queen. It was wrong of me, I know that. Please."

"So sweet, but it's not just my forgiveness you need.' Cersei reminded you, "Teasing poor Sandor after all he's done."

You sat up and whined, "I can't see him tonight, he's on night duty."

"Well then, I guess you're just going to have to wait, sweetling." Cersei snickered. "When he's forgiven you, then I will."

Frustrated with this newfound solidarity between your husband and your lover, You redressed and moved to go to your own bed. It's not like you didn't know how to take care of yourself.

Snug under the covers of the large bed, You let your hand drift between your legs. You realized you hadn't touched yourself without an audience for months, but the moves came back quite naturally.

It wasn't the same. Not as good as real sex. But it did the job quicker, and you found that after 3 or 4 rounds you was quite content.

"Ha" You taunted out into the darkness, knowing that neither of them could hear you. "We'll see who outlasts who."

With that, you rolled slightly onto your husband's side, which carried his comfortable scent of smoke and leather and lulled you into sleep.

[stormyoceans]

omg I was the AU genre anon and yes this is perfect!! I love this ideas so much! Esp the paranormal one bc the potential for shenanigans is sooo good. A Bridgerton type period piece is also amazing, like instead of following siblings you follow the core 5 w the classic period tropes of marriage of convenience, trying to matchmake your friend but falling for them instead, etc. These guys are so fun to put into Situations

OH IM SO HAPPY YOU LIKED MY GENRE AUs ANON!!!!!!!!

i didn't go too in depth about the period piece one because my answer was already getting too long and i also felt like it was a bit too close to the actual series to be interesting but the truth is that im soooo embarrassingly into it!!!!!!! in a very i wish i could write so i could turn this into a 100k long fic kind of into it ;;;;;;;;

and it really would be a sort of pride and prejudice meets bridgerton kind of story like im sorry but phumpeem and qtoey are so darcyelizabeth and bingleyjane coded!!!!!!! just imagine.. phum buys some land where peem and the others live and shows up in town with fang and toey. at the next ball everyone is obviously curious and can't wait to get to know them, especially phum who is handsome, rich, and single, but he comes off as cold and a bit rude, while fang is polite and so very charming but is already engaged with lady fai, so toey ends up becoming the town's darling and the most popular bachelor, however after that one night he only has eyes for q

peem and q are actually still painters and they're at the ball not just for pleasure but also because they were allowed to showcase their works by setting them up around the room. toey and q start talking because toey is immediately fascinated by their paintings, but when fang asks phum what he thinks about them, phum ends up mocking peem's work, which peem overhears so he swears he's never gonna like phum, no matter how handsome he might be

after that night, even if other people might think him indifferent, for peem and the others is actually obvious that q likes toey, so they keep finding the most ridiculous excuses to make them meet and push them together, however this means that peem keeps being around phum as well, and no matter how civil peem promises everyone he's gonna be, he always finds himself bickering with phum by the end of it. things only get even more complicated when phum starts falling for peem and peem meets kluen: on one hand there's kluen who is kind and sweet and unabashedly into peem, but for whom peem doesn't feel much if not a warm sympathy, while on the other there's phum who peem swore to dislike and yet might not be as bad as peem thought

and then there are tan and fang who, unbeknownst to everybody else, have met each other before and almost had a thing, but fang knew he was supposed to marry fai in the future so he pushed tan away, thinking he would never see him again, except now tan is everywhere, silently (and yet very loudly) pining for him, and fang has a hard time remembering what his duty is

and last but not least we have chain and pun who have been friends since forever and are polar opposites when it comes to romance: chain is infamous for having had some kind of flirt with almost every girl in town, while pun is known for being interested in everyone's romantic prospects except his own. however, what people don't know is that after trying to matchmake pun with a friend of one of the women he was seeing, chain fell in love with him and has been waiting for pun to get a clue, even if part of him is afraid of ruining their friendship

i just need to figure out how to fit beer, mick, and matt in all of this too ;;;;;;;

ANYWAY. GENUINELY WISH I COULD WRITE THIS I CAN ONLY PRAY A GOOD SOUL DOES IT INSTEAD 🙏

[galvanizedfriend]

I am me so I must ask about the two Christmas fics (Xmas Fic 2 and Other Other Christmas Fic). Also so intrigued by Mystic Tours Not This (and the what is this because smut obviously)!!!

-Amanda

Hi, Amanda bestie! 😊

I love silly Christmas romcoms (as you know 😂) and I spent the entirety of the month of December almost nothing else, so I get all these stupid ideas I end up never taking forward because at some point I realize they're too dumb to come into existence. 😂

Xmas Fic 2 was Klaus being a hotshot lawyer or something and inheriting a Christmas tree farm (because of course) that comes with a sort of Christmas village (obviously) from his biological father whom he's never really been in touch with. There are a lot of complicated feelings there. But anyway, he first wants nothing to do it, and then he is convinced by Elijah to at the very least take a look at what is there so he can sell it. So he heads over to the farm and that's where he meets Caroline (duh), Ansel's former lawyer ("I'm a good lawyer") and who also has close ties with the farm. She ends up convincing him to sell the place to someone who will be interested in reopening it instead of whoever, because there's a bunch of people whose livelihooods depend on it (Bonnie, Enzo, some other folks), and there are some complications halfway because Elijah sells the place to Tristan de Martel, who's obviously an evil asshole. But anyway, Klaus still very much wants nothing to do with Christmas or farms, but he does want to keep Caroline (also he gets to find out a lot of things about Ansel that Esther kept from him his whole life).

Other Other Christmas fic (lol) is one where Caroline gets invited to spend Christmas with Enzo and his new spouse (I honestly can't remember whether he'd just married Kol or Rebekah, but it was one of the two) at their family's ancestral home somewhere posh in England. But at Enzo's wedding, Caroline had an ~~incident with Klaus and she absolutely does not want to see him again, so Enzo ensures her he won't be there because he's the Grinch, so he doesn't spend the Holidays with his family, going on skiing trips instead. Except there's a snow storm and Klaus' flight gets cancelled and so he is, in fact, there when Caroline arrives, and then stuff happens. Very creative. 😂

The 'Not This' part in Mystic Tours is because I didn't really want to keep that title or that name in the story, but I was totally out of ideas so I kept it there provisionally. It's another AH AU where Caroline runs a mystical/supernatural tour agency in Mystic Falls she inherited from her mom (who started the business with Sheilla Bennett, who not only is a self-proclaimed witch but also a professor who teaches a very popular occult and folklore class at Whitmore). Now her mom's dead and Sheilla has retired and it's Caroline, Enzo and Bonnie working together to keep the business aflotat, but they're struggling. So she gets this chance to participate in some kind of contest which will bring a popular influencer to town to promote her business (I think I got this idea from Lovelight Farm, or something like that. Have you read it? It's really cute!), except she ends up adding a sob story about how the heart of her business if her own love story with her fiancé when she submits her application. She does that because she knows this influencer has a thing for love stories, but the issue is she not only doesn't have a fiancé, she's not even dating anyone. So after a strong reluctance she ends up asking Klaus to be her fake boyfriend for the duration of the contest. They've been unlikely friends forever and Caroline has had a major crush on him, but she's convinced he's not at all interested and way out of her league because he's a hotshot gallery owner in New Orleans who always seems to be surrounded by beautiful women. Loads of Mikaelsons, Kol being a little shit, Carenzo friendship, Damon is a douchebag. Major tags here are fake dating and idiots-to-lovers.

[nopeferatu]

something that confused me in the bbm short story was jack saying he was cheating with the rancher’s wife and john twist later mentioned that same rancher (?). i know jack lied about being with other guys when ennis said it’s only been him. so did jack lie again about the rancher wife bc he knew ennis would react differently if it was another man? i sincerely couldn’t tell. my media literacy: c average

Yeah, Jack was lying to cover for the fact that he hadn't been seeing the ranch neighbor's wife, he'd been seeing the ranch neighbor, himself :c

I think it's a little less clear in the short story than in the movie, so I don't blame you for being confused. The movie adds a whole new scene that doesn't appear in the novella, where Jack and his wife Lureen are at some sort of fundraiser dance event and they're at a table with another married couple. Jack and the husband keep making eyes at each other in the dance hall, then later in the scene, the two are pictured sitting outside on a bench making small talk about the ranch operation the other man works for. Then finally the husband gets the courage to say:

"Yeah, Roy, he's a good ol' boy. He's got a little cabin down on Lake Kemp. Got a croppie house, little boat. Says I can use it whenever I want... We outta go down there some weekend. Drink a little whiskey, fish some, get away... You know?"

Jack pauses for a moment, opens his mouth to answer, but before he can he is interrupted by their wives coming out of the dance hall to go home. When this story has previously established that "fishing" and "getting away" between men is code for "having an affair", you understand what it is this rancher is asking of Jack.

And it makes sense that Jack would lie about it to Ennis, given the fact that when Ennis finds out he's been going to Mexico to hire male sex workers, he reacts like this:

"I got a say this to you one time, Jack, and I ain't foolin. What I don't know," said Ennis, "all them things I don't know could get you killed should I come to know them."

Ennis is so jealous and angry over the idea of Jack being "unfaithful" to him that he LITERALLY threatens to kill him if he ever gets concrete confirmation of any of these suspicions. If if isn't clear enough that this is the intent of those lines, Jack confirms it in his own monologue:

"Count the damn few times we been together in twenty years. Measure the fuckin short leash you keep me on, then ask me about Mexico and then tell me you'll kill me for needin it and not hardly never gettin it."

If Ennis is already reacting this badly about Jack "gettin it" from sex workers every once im a blue moon, imagine how he'd react if he knew he had a neighbor just down the street from him who he could "get it" from regularly and often?? So he tip-toed around the idea by admitting to having an affair while lying about who it was he was having the affair with, because Jack implicitly understands that sleeping with another woman isn't a threat to their relationship in the way that sleeping with another man is.

There's a small section of one of my favorite BBM fics, Through the Red, that I think does a really great job of explaining why this is so:

"Why don't you care none if'n it's a woman?"

The question loops lazily up towards the ceiling and disperses among the gray cobwebs shrouding the beams. The mattress murmurs as Ennis shifts. Jack isn't expecting an answer, really. He knows the answer; he knows because he's in the same situation.

Women are different. They mean something different, because a woman can't be for Jack what Ennis is, and a woman can't be for Ennis what Jack is. A woman can't give them what they crave, can't be what they need. There'll always be a distance, a membrane of separation between men and women, minds and souls, responses and reactions inexplicable to the other.

Because Ennis is the only one he's found true passion and feeling with, because Ennis probably feels the same, and neither have ever felt this for a woman, it isn't hard to jump to the conclusion that it's only with another man that they will ever feel this — and so a relationship with a woman means nothing, isn't a threat. It isn't real.

However, another man…

"I ain't gonna make excuses. I haven't done nothing wrong," Jack says to the floor and the dust and his feet. "Haven't done nothing."

He's never felt guilty about stepping around his marriage vows, the vows and relationship that God and men call inviolable. He and Ennis don't even have that, can never have that, and, yet, something writhes nauseatingly in the core of his stomach.

I think that the inclusion of the ranch neighbor also does a lot to make Jack's death more ambiguous, right? Like. By the end of the short story, we now know that Jack was sleeping with a man down the street from him and that he was fed up with Ennis' lack of commitment. So when Ennis hears from John Twist that Jack went to his parents house talking up a storm about this ranch neighbor of his leaving his wife and moving up from Texas with him instead of Ennis, all Ennis can picture is that Jack wasn't being as careful about hiding his sexuality anymore, and he was killed for it. So was it a freak tire changing accident? Or was it a hatecrime? Sadly, both are realistic scenarios in the world they live in.

[crowtrobotx]

I know this is out of the blue, but thank you so much for being a real one 👍✨️

Like I have nothing against people who see Heisenberg as a gay man, they’re entitled to think that. But I draw the hard line at people who feel the need to bash others just because their views don't align, and then when confronted use the piss poor "it's just a joke" or "it's just an observation" excuses. If you're going to be a bitch at least have the balls to own up to it.

Anyway, loved your work since 2021 and wishing you all the good vibes. 🤗

Oh my goodness, thank you!!! This is such a kind message and I appreciate you so much. ❤️ Good vibes right back at you. I’m glad that my rantings have resonated with folks because sometimes I wonder if *spongebob voice* I’M the maniac. Getting dragged into this stuff really makes me feel like it sometimes, haha.

Yes! To be clear I also truly do not care what your HC’s are! I love that there are people for whom gay Heisy is their thing and I hope they are having fun and keep making their art/fic/etc! Even if I really can’t stand the popular fanon ship I’m so glad it exists for folks who enjoy it and I am not going to spend my time posting about what I don’t like/agree with when they’re not hurting me and I can spend my time on stuff I do like!

And like. I know. I KNOW a lot of these people are teenagers. And I struggle sometimes because “do not fight literal children” is a rule I try to live by lmao but I also really don’t like seeing people target and mock folks for harmless fun. (It’s on sight if a 25+ year old starts putting this shit in the tags tho. I know they’re out there.)

Still, it’s extremely weird because they always defend themselves with “it’s just a joke/it’s not that deep” or “oh my god no one is stopping you from liking x why are you so pressed 🙄 i can’t believe you’re letting my nasty opinions bother you just because i put them right where you can see them with the intent of insulting you.” 💀💀💀 Like what could possibly be the point of doing this if not to, at the very least, actively try to dissuade people you don’t like from engaging with the community? Obviously no one can stop me but if I know that there are dickbags out there who are going to vaguepost and make fun of me when I do, I don’t care how confident and thick skinned you are (and I am very,) it’s still going to sting!

People are not bothered because they’re disconnected from reality and think they’re really married to a pixel man, they’re upset because life is hard enough and you come into your hobby space to have a good time and then find lame ass idiots infesting it. I also think the whole “ohhh my god why are you so upset he’s/she’s not real!!” is a blatant attempt to discredit the hurt parties by once again insinuating that they are “crazy” which once again conveniently ignores multiple realities, chiefly that 1) most people are not upset by a simple opinion that their fave wouldn’t fuck them IRL, they are upset at the blatant meanness of the person making the accusations and 2) even if they are genuinely hurt by the thought because it’s a coping mechanism for them, why does that make it okay for you target them? What gives you the right to harass and mock people who are not bothering you? Do these people think they’re doing these folks a ‘favor’ by forcing them to contend with what they perceive to be some kind of delusion? Shut the hell up. Why do people decide it is their god given right to hold strangers on the internet accountable for psychological “problems” that they’ve completely made up.

Anyway SORRY I have a serious problem shutting the fuck up lol. I have never been good at phrasing my thoughts in a coherent way especially when I’m grumpy. I am very glad my little circle is full of awesome, open minded and levelheaded folks and not gatekeepers/weirdos (derogatory) who have decided that diversity of opinion in fandom is bad actually and that women and femmes specifically are enemy number one.

[this-is-lightning]

Supercorp FicRec P. 29

The next part in my ongoing ficrec series. I go through my bookmarks on AO3 and select the ones I like the best and add a little commentary on why. 5 fics per part. 

Masterpost

we're playing to a full house, darling (but this show can't go on) by the_ominous_owl

Kara’s struggling to find work. Lena’s struggling to find herself. When fate (with some help from Cat Grant) casts them into the same orbit they find themselves completely off-script, because while everyone knows about the sins of the father, they're somewhat less clear about the sins of one’s siblings. Throw into that an audience hungry for stories at the expense of fact, a showrunner with a plan nobody saw coming, and a co-star who steadfastly refuses to keep it in his pants, and you’ve got a tale so dramatic even the protagonists have noticed. or the one where they’re both actresses with a surprising amount of baggage for two people who haven’t met yet.

w: 37,360

r: teen and up

The actress trope done very, very well. Slowburn. Lena's got it so very bad but shes got baggage. Kara is captain oblivious. They figure it out tho. Lots of intimacy and feelings. There's a part two bt that ones still a wip.

It's Funny Right up Until It's Not by ThornedRose44

It's funny because it's harmless… It's funny because it's never a big deal… It's funny because it's forgotten by the next day… It's funny because she's fine. She's always fine… Until… she’s not...

w: 12,131

r: mature

Yea so this one cut deep. Happy ending but were digging into the "haha quarterly assassination lol" witch is really not funny at all. Angst but so so heartfelt and wonderful. Some-when after S5.

musings from 504 by sapphic_luthor

“We got Supergirl’s mail again,” a voice calls from behind a massive, unidentifiable sculpture as it steps through the door. He sets the piece down just as the words leave his mouth, and then the dark-haired boy spins to face you, hand outstretched to drop a letter onto the countertop, and he breathes, “Oh, fuck.” You look toward your new roommates, and register the panic on their faces. “Wait,” you say, but your mind is jumping to conclusions that your mouth is far too embarrassed to vocalize, so you find that you don’t have any follow-up. “Are you--” you start, but you know it’s true even before you ask. “Seriously?”

w: 7,670

r: teen and up

So how much do we all think Kara's neighbors know about her life? An outsiders perspective on the Superfriends. Funny and fun and heartfelt.

Bizarre Love Triangle by powergrapes

One day, two women meet on the subway. The recently dumped Lena is recovering from a broken heart, and Kara is grappling with the open-ish relationship she has with her long-distance boyfriend. They decide that they’re going to become friends. The kind of friends who also have totally casual, no-strings-attached, nobody’s-catching-feelings sex. What could go wrong? As Alex puts it: “Kara. This is the dumbest thing you’ve ever done. And I’m including the time that you set fire to your own hair and nearly burned the house down trying to do some spell you found on MySpace to make Troy Bolton materialize in real life and marry you.” Or: Lena and Kara go around New York City eating food and banging each other until their feelings eat away at them, and Alex tries not to have an aneurysm about it.

w: 113,061

r: explicit

So so so well written. Gets pretty angsty but the payoff is so worth it. Lots of feelings and fun and fluff too. And very VERY good smut. A MUST read!

The Luthor Family by MyCatIsMyEditor

Following Lex’s death Lena finds herself guardian to the four year old nephew she never knew existed. She also finds herself in need of help. Who better to help her than her best friend and National City’s favourite Kryptonian. It’s just a little awkward that her nephew is scared of Supergirl. OR Kara and Lena raising Lex’s son while slowly getting together with a bunch of cute fluff and some angst thrown in as they work together to be the best parents possible to a scared little boy.

w: 95,676

r: mature

Digs a lot into the issues with fostering a child who was neglected and abused. But its very well done and there's a lot of fluff too. Kara and Lena slip into the parent role very well. But of course this whoe situation digs up issues of theirs too. They build a wonderful family and support net and finally get to be so so happy with everyone at their side.

Don't forget to leave some love for the writers on AO3! Much love and happy reading!