#it's gonna be great for them terrible for me who has to write it

[areyoudoingthis]

"why hasn't stede told ed about his trauma yet" does he even know there's any trauma to tell him about at all should be the question.

that man's been so repressed and tightly wound his whole life that he wouldn't even know where to begin opening up. he knows ed loves him and he still runs off to hide alone in his room after he's killed a horrible man who poked at his insecurities and triggered his deepest trauma right after insulting the man he loves.

he doesn't turn to ed for comfort when he's upset, he doesn't even process that he's upset, he just sits in his room flashing back to his childhood and panicking. he gets comforted anyway because ed loves him, but where ed's offering conversation stede takes physical relief instead, makes himself feel better without processing anything he just went through.

he's aware that ed loves him, and he's getting better at loving ed because he's a good observer and a very fast learner, but does he even know what being loved looks like. does he even have an idea of the immensity of what ed is offering.

he says "i know" and he means it, but he still fishes desperately for compliments five minutes later because he's still that insecure, still worried that if he doesn't measure up (to the kind of pirate blackbeard and zheng are in this case), he's gonna get left behind.

i honestly don't know what it would take to convince him that he can share his past with ed, that he can tell him about his fears and his self doubt and ed won't leave him for it, won't think weak and soft and not good enough the way everyone else in his life has before.

[everythingne]

all american bitch -- ls2

After a successful concert in Miami, your twin sister is caught having a little moment with her boyfriend outside a club. Most people jump to conclusions, but you have a way to shut everyone up (and give half of the F1 community a heart attack in the process)

logan sargeant x singer!reader

warnings/notes: cheating allegations, cursing, so many sexual innuendos, sexual lyrics, terribly written lyrics should count as a warning... also I wrote this to celebrate logan 2024 <3

fc: gracie abrams

-

04 MAY, INSTAGRAM

urusername made a new post!

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, sistersacc, and 450k others

urusername: miami!! u were ELECTRIC!! a great finish to the first leg of the tour. oh and thank u to both @ logansargeant and @ sistersacc for joining me in miami tn ahead of the gp <3

tagged: sistersacc, logansargeant, williamsracing

lilymhe: LAST PIC??

urusername: people keep sending logan text posts to me and its amazing

user1: girl explain what u were doing last night

user2: patiently waiting on her downfall fr

user3: MOTHER IS MOTHERING!!!

logansargeant: I LOVE YOU BITCH ASS

urusername: I LOVE YOU TOO FUCK HEAD !!! 💙💙

williamsracing: y/n. ur electric.

urusername: im leaving logan for u williams admin

logansargeant: dude what the fuck :(

user4: so we're gonna act like no one saw her cheating?

sistersacc: AAAA SO MUCH FUN THANKS FOR LETTING ME MAKE U MAD <333

alexalbon: thank u again for inviting me and lily i cannot express the joy of finally meeting the woman logan never shuts up about

user7: not everyone jumping to conclusions jfc

logansargeant made a new post

logansargeant: thank u williams for the incredible season and for trusting this american guy and taking a chance on me. thank u @ urusername for being my rock. see u all next yr 💙

USER HAS LIMITED COMMENTS ON THIS POST.

urusername: so so so proud of u baby <3 u did incredible

logansargeant: thank u <3

alexalbon: see u in a few weeks

oscarpiastri: great job man u did amazing

--

EXTRATV made a new post!

liked by 456k others...

extratv: While rumors are spiraling of potential cheating allegations against Y/n L/n, she was spotted with Taylor Swift at a local park in Miami after day two of her residency in the Kaseya Center. Has the checkered flag waved for the American 'It Couple' of F1?

user1: bro its so over for us.

user2: NOOO Y/N SARGEANT PLS </3

user3: people see taylor and think its an immediate break up. taylor literally helped y/n start music bc their moms are besties idk what y'all are on.

user4: reputation era real

--

"Do you see this shit?" You turn to look at Logan behind you, who currently has his face smushed into what was previously your pillow as he attempts to recover sleep from his season of traveling just about everywhere. You would be in the same boat as him if you weren't being hounded over doing your skincare and such everyday for tour. Because of that hounding, you had to take off all the makeup you had put on for dinner as soon as you got home. The dinner was with all your family and friends to celebrate the end of a season and the end of the first leg of your tour.

"No?" Logan blinks open his eyes and you cross the room from your shared bathroom, he lifts the blanket so you can slide in next to him in the bed as the fleeting Florida sun nips warmth into your skin before his warmth envelops you in the comfortable blankets you have across the bed as the fan above rotates on high.

You flip your phone, showing him the pictures of your sister people were using to say you cheated on Logan.

"Oh be so serious." He groans into your side as he looks at the photos, arm draped lazily over you before he plucks the device out of your hands and drags you fully under the blankets with them.

"Don't worry," He murmurs, sleep in his voice, "It'll blow over if we just ignore it."

"Logan they're trying to cancel me on Twitter." You deadpan, rolling into his embrace and snuggling against him.

"Write a song about it like everyone thinks you're doing with Taylor, play it on tour or something.'' He mumbles into the skin of your neck before giving you a soft kiss.

You hate how enticing the idea is.

"You're gonna have to review the lyrics before I post it, because I might make it absolutely filthy." You warn and Logan's eyes widen as he perks up from where he's cuddled into your side.

"Oh please, please, do." His little shit eating grin makes you burst into laughter as you nod, pulling out your notebook from your bedside table and a pen as Logan adjusts so he can watch you scribble down ideas.

-

urusername made a new post!

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, lilymhe, and 215k others...

urusername: im so sorry to @ williamsracing in advance. my new single miami burn comes out tmrw 💙

lilymhe: get em girl.

logansargeant: i apologize in advance to my pr team

williamsracing: logan please.

oscarpiastri: some times i wonder about u two. and then i hear about you and it makes me wish i never asked.

logansargeant: wow love u too man

landonorris: no i heard the demo im with oscar on this

arthurleclerc: prayers to ur pr team !

williamsracing: well now im scared.

[ceilidho]

Hi crazy Johnny with a single mam anon back because im insane and have brainrot and am seriously contemplating writing it bcus i feel compelled by the power of Christ (Johnny’s cock) to write something pervy and nasty and creepy but ultimately sweet but im also just braindumping and sharing bcus not enough johnny content floating around I fear so have to pull up my bootstraps and do it myself (this is so long ceil im so very sorry)

anyways so I think this is sooo much hotter if Johnny is either on a prolonged medical discharge or he’s been forced into retirement for one reason or another (because then can keep an eye on you lol) he and like this has been touched on before but he’s just got. nothing to fucking do. And holy hell he’s going crazy. He needs something to do. So his silly, terribly adjusted brain latches onto the poor single mam next door who DEFINITELY needs his help.

Im a sucker for forced codependency. You, who thinks you’re doing great on your own, versus ‘can’t handle this all on yer own, eh little lass?’ Johnny MacTavish. He’s SO fucking subtle about it. Commenting on how hard it must be to have to raise a baby all your own, and gods love you just look knackered here let me take the bairn for a bit. He comes round and makes little comments about your house being messy (disorganised, but not messy) and immediately starts ‘sympathising’ because you just mustn’t have time to clean up but it’s important to keep hazards out the way of the baby, here he’ll *help*.

Never questions your ability as a mother, god no, just slyly drops suggestions that you’re not coping as well as you thought. And it fucking NAGS at you. And eventually, you start going to Johnny more and more for help. I honestly think he would cause problems in your flat (fixable ones, like fucking up the electrics or messing around with the pipes but stuff he knows he can fix) so you either have to A. Move in with him temporarily or B. Have to ask him to fix them. Eventually just says that your landlords a cunt for letting you live in a shithole and insists you just move in with him permanently. You do (it’s not really up for debate).

He doesn’t use condoms. I’m sorry he just doesn’t, but he will TELL you that he does- especially the first time you have sex. You’re all worried because ‘oh god Johnny I’m not on birth control I just put it off after I had the baby and we didn’t use a condom-‘ and he’s immediately tucking you into his chest and stroking your hair and shushing you ‘divvint be daft lass, course i wrapped it up, stupid thing just broke. Did ye not realise? Must’ve been heat o’ the moment, don’t worry yer little heed about it alright? Johnny’s here.” and kisses you on your hair and lulls you into sleep. Adamantly denies whispering about how pretty you’re gonna look pregnant as if he’s trying to subliminal you into pregnancy. lol.

Will legally adopt your baby. Like he’ll suggest it, straight up. And you’re probably a bit taken aback because it’s only been six months but he is insistent. This is probably the catalyst for his ‘im the biological dad’ delusions. Once he’s down as the father he’s actually losing his mind a little. Can imagine Simon or Gaz popping round to check up on Johnny on their next leave and suddenly he has a family and they’re actually a little concerned because when Gaz makes a comment about the baby’s being cute Johnny’s like ‘Yeah we did a good job, didn’we lass?” and between the two of them there’s just silence because johnny this is not your baby but they can see that slightly deranged look in his eyes. Defo asks about all the heavy details of your pregnancy and labour and the first few months so he can pretend like he was actually there for it and will talk about it as if he were actually there (extra bonus points if Gaz actually pulls you aside in the kitchen and asks about Johnny’s behaviour and tells you to be careful LMAO).

So yeah anyways.

PLEASE WRITE THIS IM BEGGING YOU!!!!!! im screaming at that last bit i need this so bad please......i don't ask for much but i swear to god please write this for me. this idea was designed in a lab to inflict the maximum amount of psychic damage on me. please write this and i will happily beta/edit it for you if you need any help omg

[greentrickster]

Okay, so, just so you all know, I'm aware of what many of you have probably been thinking in regards to the Great God Airplane AU: "Yes yes, blah blah Shen Jiu blah blah Bingge, WHERE IS THE MOSHANG, IT'S AN AU CENTERED AROUND SHANG QINGHUA, WHERE'S THE MOSHANG??!"

Thank-you for waiting patiently instead of saying this part out loud, because up until this point Moshang has mostly been doing the literary equivalent of sitting in a corner of my head with head pats and juice boxes being just the goodest boys whom I love so so much, you know?

Here's the Moshang:

It's a few days after the conference where Shang Qinghua got outed as Airplane Shangdi, and that's exactly how long it took Shen Yuan to get used to the idea and go back to treating him like normal (because he's read too much of SQH's terrible porn to ever truly take him seriously for an extended period of time). Which, as it happens, on this day includes razzing Airplane for the fact that, after everything that's happened, his sex scenes still have 'written by a virgin' slathered all over them.

To which our favorite divine hamster, newly imbued with some actual, legit self-confidence and tired of being razzed for this, snaps back that yeah, so he's a virgin, so what, he's been literally too busy his entire time as Shang Qinghua to get around to finding someone to do something about that with! Besides, Mobei-jun's also a virgin, and no one gives him shit about it!

Shen Yuan: ...like hell he is, you're telling him a guy like that's never had sex!

Shang Qinghua: Yes I am! (arms folded and nose in the air) He's the sort who's only interested in doing stuff like that with someone he wants to spend the rest of his life with and he doesn't have any love interests because I didn't write any for him, because I wrote Mobei-jun for one person and that's me! He is my perfect man, no one else's, and we're both virgins, and I'm God, so there! And if you have anything else to say about it, I'll- I dunno. I'll have Precious Blossom shrink Binghe's dick or something!

Shen Yuan: ...

Luo Binghe: A slightly smaller pillar might be more convenient, actually, but don't threaten Shizun. >:(

Our favorite hamster then gets to choke on his own spit, spin around on his cushion (half falling over in the process), and gape at the portal he hadn't noticed Luo Binghe and Mobei-jun just use to sneak into Shen Qingqiu's house.

There is silence for a moment before - in the most daring display of disloyalty he's ever made - Mobei-jun calmly pushes Binghe out of the way, ignores his indignant 'I am your emperor how very dare you-!' squawks, picks up Shang Qinghua by the back of the robes, and walks back through the portal with him.

Shen Yuan: Well that just happened.

Binghe: Husband, what did Shang shibo mean about not having written any love interests for Mobei? What does his writing have to do with that?

Shen Yuan: ...I don't have enough tea and snacks for this.

(also there will be more of this, and we're gonna cut over to our icicle/hamster duo, I'm just very tired at the moment)

[steddieas-shegoes]

is that tax fraud?

for @corrodedcoffinfest warm-up round prompt ‘taxes’

rated t | 671 words | cw: language | tags: they’re just so stupid, and I love them, look Steve is here!

🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

“What the hell do you mean you’ve never filed taxes?” Jeff asked Gareth as they sat around trying to write a song.

Keyword: trying.

Now it looked like they were gonna be figuring out how to keep Gareth out of fucking prison for tax fraud.

“I thought our band accountant handled it!” Gareth exclaimed.

“We don’t have a band accountant! The label just handles our money!” Jeff exclaimed back.

“Okay, let’s calm down.” Eddie, the voice of reason at this moment, held his hands up towards them. “Technically, Gareth only turned 18 two years ago. That’s only two years of back taxes. And if he’s honest, it’ll be fine! He probably didn’t even make enough the first year for them to care.”

“Well, I did get an inheritance from my grandpa who died,” Gareth said unhelpfully. “Does that count as income?”

Everyone stared at him in shock.

“This is a joke,” Freak said from his spot on the couch. “Has to be.”

“Oh my god, our drummer is actively committing tax fraud,” Jeff put his head in his hands.

“Guys, it’s fine! I’ll just file it all this year,” Gareth assured them.

“We should call someone. Right? Someone should be told about this,” Eddie started pacing the floor, wearing a trail into the shag carpet.

Who even put shag carpet in here? Shag was terrible.

The door swung open and Steve walked in holding three large pizzas and a grocery bag full of sodas.

“They didn’t have any Mountain Dew, but that’s probably for the best. You guys have a conference call in an hour so eat up,” he said as he started setting everything on the coffee table. He looked around when he realized it was way too quiet. “Everything okay?”

“Stevie. I fear our drummer may be going to prison.”

Steve paled. “What? Why?”

“He forgot to tell the government he has money. For two years.”

“He what?” Steve looked at Gareth to explain.

“I didn’t know I was supposed to file my own taxes! I thought we had a guy!”

Steve looked between all of them. He looked at Gareth.

“You do have a guy. The label provides a guy. I think his name is Sam? Maybe Shane.” Steve shook his head. “Either way. You have a tax guy. He filed for all of you last year.”

You could hear a pin drop in the silence.

“What do you mean? We all filed for ourselves last year. Except Gareth, apparently,” Jeff was frowning at the floor.

“Uh, well, you may have given double the money, then,” Steve laughed, though this wasn’t exactly funny.

“So let me get this straight: the label provided a guy to do our taxes without telling us. We all file our own taxes after this guy already did. No one caught it. Gareth’s the only one who hasn’t double paid into the fucking government?” Eddie asked, face red with shame or anger, it was hard to say which.

“Yeah, appears so.”

“Fuck you guys. Had me worried I was going to prison and I’m the only one who’s done shit right!” Gareth laughed. He reached for a slice of pizza and sat back in his chair, smug smile on his face. “Feels good to have my taxes paid.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Freak rolled his eyes. “So how do we get money back if we double filed?”

“Not sure we can,” Jeff sighed. “Probably isn’t worth figuring it out anyway. It’s not like we were rolling in for last year’s taxes.”

“But this year…” Eddie started.

They all looked at each other and nodded.

Yeah. This year would be different. They’d skyrocketed after the release of their first album and their first tour. Money was…pretty fucking great.

“So…pizza?” Steve asked.

They all nodded and started grabbing for their food.

“If you guys want, I’m sure Nancy can try to find a way to get money back. She’s good at that stuff,” Steve suggested.

“Nah, she’d call us idiots.”

“Well, if the shoe fits.”

“Hey!”

[thisismeracing]

How you get the girl | DR3

― Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x black!plus size!reader ― Warning: mentions of food and alcohol; Mclaren Danny and tooth-rotting fluff. (1.5k words) ― Summary: Yn is tired of going on dates only to realize that the guy she thought was great, was actually terrible. So that’s why when her friend tells her she knows someone who would match perfectly, Yn accepts the blind date. It’s gonna be her last attempt at love, and now Daniel only has one date to prove he’s worth it. (based on this request)

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There are many ways in which one can fall in love. Yn didn't expect it to happen with her on the first date. To be fair, she didn’t expect it to happen to her at all. Being a plus-size black girl she learned to love herself, well aware that the way society portrays beauty wouldn’t always include her. Her shade, shape, and experiences. Which doesn’t mean she was not pretty. Quite the opposite, she knew she was stunning, and no validation was needed for that, yet you can miss it every once in a while. It rejoices your soul to hear how good you look and how smart you are.

But she left it on the second plan, focusing on her work and studies. Things were good, great even, however, her friends knew she deserved someone good. And as it happens, they knew exactly the pair for her.

Daniel was not looking for love either. He liked how things were going, and liked how he was able to focus in a different light this season, however, he missed it. Missed having someone to celebrate post-races with, to cuddle, and to hold him when he felt down. That’s why when Adam and Amina, two of his close friends from a tight group, proposed to set him up on a blind date he accepted. There wasn’t anything to lose, and he liked to follow his own bits of advice about enjoying being naive, enjoying the butterflies.

Even though it was a blind date, it was Danny who set up everything, with the help of his friends, of course. According to them, Yn would like a beach date. So that’s what he aimed for.

And it felt just right when she showed up wearing an orange summer set with a shy, yet bright smile on her face.

Yn didn’t know at the time, but she had just given a whole meaning to the orange color for him.

“You must be Amina’s friend, Daniel, right?” Yn asked, voice being carried by the wind and getting mixed with the sounds of waves crashing behind them.

Daniel nodded watching her curls bounce and her lips stretch in a small smile, “Yeah-Yeah, it’s me.”

“Yn,” they shook hands with a shy smile because even though Daniel was anything but shy, something about that date seemed new to him, like something he never experienced before.

“I hope you like the beach, and pizza. I wanted to go for something private and chill, Amina and Adam agreed, but still, I hope I got this right.”

She smiles, looks at the blanket on the sand, the pizza box, and the wine, then nods, “I love it. It’s exactly what I would go for had I been the one to choose the setting.”

“Really?” There’s a slight hint of disbelief mixed with amusement in his tone, and it makes Yn chuckle.

“Maaaaybe this would tie with a coffee shop date,” she confesses.

“We can do coffee shop for our second date,” Daniel is quick to shoot his shot and Yn arches her brow, she wants to smile again.

“What makes you think we’re having a second date?”

“I’m just manifesting, throwing it to the universe,” he jokes and she can’t help but laugh while they walk side by side to the blanket. “See? I made you laugh, my chances are getting higher, aren’t they?”

“It all depends on the pizza flavor, now.”

“Good thing I got one slice from each, then.”

“You kidding me?”

“No, and I got a whole one of your favorite flavor, well, according to Amina.”

Yn watches in disbelief and Danny sits by her side and sure enough, opens the two boxes of pizza showing her a pizza with different slices and a whole one of her favorite.

“Ok, and that’s how you get the girl. You might have landed a second date, Daniel.”

He smiles brightly and she can’t help but think that he now has a third one too.

“So, aside from having a great taste in pizza, what else should I know about you?” He asks while opening the wine bottle and Yn chews on a bit of food before starting to tell him about herself.

They go back and forth, there’s never the awkward silence, and they realize they have many things in common aside from the two friends that set them up. Yn has no idea he’s a driver and somehow it makes Daniel even more enamored by her. She seems to like him for who he is truly, and not because of a cool side of his that happens to make him famous and rich. It’s warm and fuzzy, and fun, and the symphony of waves crashing down and giggles envelop their afternoon until the sun starts to set and they decide to head home parting with a timid kiss in the corner of their lips.

It’s on the second date when she makes fun of his milk foam mustache and sips her own coffee mirroring his image that Daniel realizes he might be in love. Her dark skin is glowing, and the hair atop her head is like a halo, while she smiles at his camera with a funny face pointing at her mustache. Both unaware there are other people in the small coffee shop.

Daniel can only see Yn.

And Yn can only see Daniel.

At the end of that date, he takes her home and kisses her at her door. It’s soft and warm, and it feels right. It feels perfect. They fit together like two puzzle pieces. His heart racing under her hand, and her face stretching in a smile under his. He gets inside, and they talk and kiss a bit more before he has to leave.

It doesn’t take long for the third date to happen. Just two days, both counting the hours to see each other while frantically texting. It’s a drive-in theater, Yn’s idea. They watch a horror movie while Daniel gets scared by the jumps every time, making Yn laugh. They also share a popcorn pot, fingers shyly caressing the other whenever they touch by accident. When the movie ends and the credits are rolling around, the moon and the gleam from the big screen in front of them casting a distinctive glow on Yn, Daniel is sure he’s in love.

“Hey, so- I have this race next week, would you wanna go with me? I can fly you out on Saturday, or you can go with me and see how everything works from behind the scenes,” he suggests, fingers crossed in the dark praying for her to accept, praying for her not to think he’s being too fast. Maybe he was indeed, but this was all new to him too. He was fast on the track, he was never this fast outside it, never this fast to fall, to want someone, to seek someone, to show off someone. He wanted her by his side.

“Wouldn’t it be like making things official?” Yn asks genuinely curious and Daniel can tell by the way she bites her lips and one of her eyebrows goes up the slightest.

“Yeah, am I going too fast?”

“I mean, you’re a racing driver, I would say it’s your job to go fast, isn’t it?” She jokes and he laughs throwing his head on the headrest.

“Yes, but outside the track, I only wanna go fast like this for you.”

“That was so cheesy.”

“But did you like it?” He grins, and Yn rolls her eyes playfully before her body bends over the dash to capture his lips in a kiss.

“I loved it.”

And so a few days later Yn finds herself on a private plane meeting a bunch of different people and being introduced as his girlfriend, because sure enough, Daniel asked properly when he dropped her home that night. He got her a necklace and everything the next day. She learns that racing and the whole Formula 1 thing is more hectic than it seemed, but still, it’s fun. Amina and Adam watch the Sunday race with her, making fun of the way she can’t help but cheer loudly sometimes and bite her nails.

That was the Sunday Daniel got P1. The same Sunday he ran to her before the podium and kissed her lips in front of everyone, giving her his biggest smile and thanking her for being there, his lucky charm.

That was also the Sunday he said he loved her for the first time while they celebrated in private after the party. Laced in each other's love, gazing into the other’s eye, the certainty of the truth behind his statement.

Their friends were right, they were perfect for each other.

────── ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi, honeybees! I hope you guys liked this piece! <3 I wanted to add a huge shout-out to C (my coffee emoji anon on Tumblr) for proofreading this (Ily, C!)

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©thisismeracing ― do not copy, steal, or translate my work; do not repost on a different media platform.

[oolongteaboba]

# ◞ ˚ ─ RED LACE (OR LACK THEREOF)

info. rocket raccoon/f!reader smut. est. 3.2k words.

you and rocket share the same bunk, so you've been wearing nothing but a shirt to get his attention. and who knows? he might like you back.

a/n. hi hello first actual post on here! quick comment for the fingering part, just pretend rocket stole peter's nail clippers LMAO, i forgot to clarify that while writing whoops. also, you can alternatively read the fic here on ao3.

In the past year you’ve spent with the guardians and living on the Milano, you began to appreciate each of them unconditionally; you were family, and they were yours.  Peter, a Terran like you, was a great conversationist, and you bonded over things you missed from Earth.  Gamora’s intimidating sometimes, but she acts like the sister you never had and has your best interests in mind.  You haven’t known Mantis for long, but she’s kind and gentle; plus, she’s starting to warm up to you.  Drax is some fun company, although most of your jokes fly over his head.  Groot clings onto you like a puppy, and the sprout insists on sitting between you and Rocket during dinnertime.  And well, Rocket is… Rocket.

Aboard the Milano, you shared a small bunk with Rocket and Groot.  Tonight, Groot was in Gamora’s bunk since she had Groot-bedtime-story-duty tonight, so you and Rocket had the already cramped bunk to yourselves.  Sharing a room with the two of them wasn’t entirely terrible, but you do have to deal with Rocket’s tech stuff being scattered all over the floor.

His bed wasn’t too far from yours, with the space between you only about two feet.  He’s working on a new set of blasters; you’re laying in bed on your back with your right leg over the left.  After being engrossed with his equipment for who knows how long, Rocket looks up from his machinery to glance at you.

“Christ, does it hurt to put on some pants for once?”  Rocket interjects, and you turn your head toward him.

“We share a room together.  You’ve seen me change before, and that never fazed you.  Besides, Groot isn’t even here.  It’s just us.”  He only replies with a huff and an eye roll.  “Besides, why do you care so much?”

Rocket scoffs, crossing his arms and furrowing his brows.  “I’m not the one walking around in a loose shirt and fuckin’ red lacy underwear.”

You avert your eyes from his as your cheeks grow hot, and you pull the hem of your shirt down mid-thigh to preserve your already damaged dignity.

“It’s all that was clean,” you mutter below your breath, just loud enough for him to hear, although from the look on his face, he doesn’t believe you.  “Plus, it’s hot in here, Rocket.  The air conditioning isn’t working correctly, we’re in space, and you haven’t fixed it yet,” you reply, uncrossing your legs.  He inhales sharply, returning to his blaster.

“I told you already, I don’t have the right parts yet,” he snaps at you.  “Go fix it yourself if you’re gonna be a bitch about it.”

“So the oh-so-great Rocket Raccoon can build bombs from scrap material but can’t fix the AC unit?”

“I ain’t a raccoon,” he snarls, and it takes every fiber in your body to resist the urge not to continue teasing him.  “And I told you this shit already: we don’t have the needed parts.”

“Y’know, maybe I’ll start walking around with pants on if the air conditioning is fixed.”

Rocket exhales and lets out a small pfft that almost sounds like a quiet laugh.  “You’re bein’ whinier than Quill right now, know that?”

“You’re so sweet to me, Rocket.  Have I mentioned you’re the kindest person on this ship?” You smile, albeit sarcastically, and the corners of his mouth instinctively curl up in response.  You catch his brief smile for a fleeting moment and make eye contact, but he promptly looks away in embarrassment.

(You might tease him about it later, though.  He’s smiling because of you.)

“Go to sleep, doll.”  Rocket absentmindedly shoves the machinery onto his makeshift nightstand with a slight grin still etched on his features.  His disposition has improved in the past year; he smiles a lot more, though he tries to hide it, and the guardians have noticed.  Not that he’d ever admit it, of course.

“What about you?  Aren’t you going to sleep?”  His eyes look into yours, albeit briefly, and they’re warm, brown, and pretty, and you internally berate yourself for not noticing them sooner.

“Nah.  You Terrans need more sleep than I do.  And you look terrible, by the way.”  You fail at attempting to stifle a giggle at his sudden change in demeanor, which Rocket barely notices.  

“Aw, thank you, Rocket.  Love you too.”  Your eyelids flutter, and you pull a blanket over your body.  “You might not be Terran, but you should sleep too, y’know.  You’re always reprimanding Groot for staying up late, you hypocrite.”

Rocket’s features soften; he shoots you a toothy grin, although there’s a thought nagging at you, telling you there’s more than just sarcasm in his eyes.  “Yeah, yeah.  G’night, doll.”

You shoot Rocket a smile that’s brighter than the damn sun before shutting your eyes.  Unfortunately, you’re asleep before you can say ‘good night’ back.

-

Three nights later, tonight is Drax’s turn for Groot-bedtime-story-duty.

The temperature in the Milano isn’t as nearly inhabitable as last time, all because of you and Quill’s endless pleas for the AC to be fixed.  Thankfully, Peter hates absurdly hot weather just as much as you do.  Either that or hatred of heat is a Terran thing.  Somehow, the broken air conditioning didn’t affect the other non-Terran guardians on the ship as much.

Al Green’s Let’s Stay Together plays faintly in the background; you’re lounging on your bunk, back against the mattress, as you read one of Quill’s childhood comic books when the door opens, and Rocket enters your shared bunk.

As soon as he walks in, Rocket scoffs and rolls his eyes.  “For the love of god, I fixed the AC as you asked.  Put some goddamn pants on.”

“Hello to you too, Rocket,” you give him a smile before continuing reading, too focused on Quill’s comic book to notice Rocket’s blatant gawking at your exposed legs.  Your leg props up on the other, leaving almost nothing to the imagination.  “And I said maybe I’ll wear pants.”

He jumps in bed, setting Quill’s helmet at the foot of his bunk.  After a job that included killing Abilisks, Peter reluctantly handed it over to Rocket for some significantly postponed repairs and upgrades.

“You’re lucky, know that?  You’re the only person on this ship besides Groot whose shit I tolerate.”

“I love you too, Rocket.  Although, I’m pretty sure you’d shoot Quill if he started walking around the Milano with no pants on,” you answer, eyes still glued to the comic book.

“The only difference is that Quill isn’t the one walking around in his underwear.”

“Rocket, I honestly can’t see why it’s a big deal.  It’s been days since you won’t shut up about it,” you reply, setting Quill’s comic on top of your nightstand.

Rocket looks at you before sighing defeatedly, with some feeling that you can’t put your finger on captured in his eye.  You swallow your spit, and Rocket returns to his bold, unapologetic self.

“Fine.  Fuckin’ hell, we get it, it’s your bunk, and you can do whatever the hell you want-”

He pauses.  Rocket’s eyes trail down from your face to your body, taking in every inch of your revealed skin.

However, it’s too late for you to realize what exactly Rocket’s ogling at.

“Are you… not wearing anything under that shirt?”

You blink, promptly closing your legs (undoubtedly knowing it won’t do or change anything).  The already small space between your bunk and Rocket’s seems even smaller.  Your heartbeat picks up in your chest; Rocket is still rendered speechless.  You’ll never hear the end of it, you swear.  His gaze meets yours, but you don’t answer.  What feels like an eternity passes before Rocket speaks up, breaking the silence.

“You dirty fuckin’ girl,” he swears, his tone both degrading and impressed.  Rocket steps down from his bunk and closer to yours, his eyes drinking you in.  From the look on his face, he looks as if he’s about to devour you whole.

“Rocket.”

Hesitantly, Rocket steps back, giving you space.  “Shit, sweetheart.  I’m sorry.  Tell me to leave, and I will.”  He’s reluctant, although the tent in his pants slowly grows, and he isn’t hiding it well.  “We can forget about this.”

“Wait,” you immediately protest before rationale can stop you, grabbing his wrist before he can pull away and leave.  “You can stay.”

From the look on his face, it doesn’t take him much convincing.  He knows what you’re thinking of (and knows what you want).  Rocket tenses; a few moments pass before he speaks up, unsure of what to do next.

“Can I touch you?”

You groan in response, both desperately and unashamedly.  Both your voice and body are tempting, practically inviting Rocket in.  He’s thought of you like this: both in daydreams and dreams, but he never would’ve imagined the moment (or you) to be more perfect.  “Please, Rocket.  I need you so damn badly.”

(Rocket’s definitely gonna bring this up later.  However, anything but him is entirely off your mind.)

He gladly complies, and his hands go underneath your shirt to meet your chest before massaging your breasts.  The sensation of his paws is foreign but welcome, one hand playing with your nipple as his tongue swirls around the other, gently nipping at your flesh.  He continues sucking, maintaining eye contact while your face burns from the intimacy.

The sound of Rocket’s mouth leaving your tits makes an explicit and wet pop sound, and drool pools in the corner of his mouth.

“Fuck, doll, I’ve been thinkin’ of doing this forever.  Couldn’t stop thinking about you since I got a look at that pair of that red, lacy underwear of yours and could barely keep my fuckin’ hands off.”

Rocket continues his ministrations on your chest, with one hand traveling down to your thigh, close to your puffy clit.  You elicit a formerly suppressed moan from your lips, much to Rocket’s inflated ego.  His pace is slow and teasing as if he’s waiting for you to break and beg for him to quicken his pace.

“Shit, you’re so pretty like this, all for me,” Rocket whispers in an intonation you can barely hear, almost impressed by how receptive and eager you are for his touch.  The ache between your thighs gradually amplifies from his praises, and you weaken at his attention.  Your breath quickens as his fingers trail up your thigh and languidly circles around your needy clit.  All words are stripped from your tongue, leaving you unable to speak.  Rocket’s fur almost tickles your skin as he marks love bites on you, hard enough to bruise.

“Fuh- fuck, Rocket, you feel so damn good,” you pant, air seemingly wrung out of your lungs.  “I need-”

You’re cut off by Rocket giving your cunt a firm spank, drawing out an embarrassingly vocal moan.  “Need what, dollface?”  He grins with a look of pride planted on his face as he gives your breasts and cunt much-needed attention, albeit slowly.

“I need you inside me,” you mewl, your cheeks feeling hot from the humiliation.  You know Rocket knows what you want; he’s eager to give it but wants to hear you beg for it first.

Somehow, his grin grows even more.  His slow circling on your clit stops, and you audibly groan, wordlessly begging for him to continue.  “I’ve barely touched ya, and you already want my cock inside?”

“Fuck you, Rocket,” you huff, heat building inside your lower abdomen and goosebumps growing on your skin.  “Please, I need you.”

He slips a paw inside your dripping cunt, and it takes a few seconds to get used to the new feeling.  “Gotta be patient, sweetheart.  You’re so pretty when you’re like that, know that?”

You nod, relishing the feeling of his fingers finding your G-spot, then slowly curling upwards.  Though his hands lack girth, he makes up for it with agility.

“Was this 'no panties' stunt all for me, dollface?”

“Yes. All for you, Rocket,” you answer absentmindedly, too focused on how good his fingers feel inside you.  Rocket’s fingers develop a languid rhythm, scissoring and stretching your walls to fit his cock.  You bite your lip to keep back a whimper but fail.  With every movement from Rocket, you feel yourself melting into the blankets and mattress, reduced to putty in Rocket’s hands.

“Keep going,” you mutter, surprised at your current capability to form words.  Rocket’s fingers gently press against your G-spot, eliciting a moan.  “G-go faster, Rocket.”

Instead of speeding up as you hoped, he completely stops, leaving you to writhe underneath him.  You tense up, missing the blissful sensation of his paws working inside you.  “What happened to you saying ‘please,’ huh?  You can do better than that, dollface.”

You tighten around his fingers, and you can practically feel the grin on his face as he waits for your pleas.  “God, fuck, Rocket, you know damn well what you’re doing to me,” you groan, heavy breaths interrupting almost every word.

“Try again, sweetheart,” he retorts, savoring the desperation all over your face.  Eager to feel more of him, you steadily move your hips, fucking yourself onto his fingers in response to his refusal.  “Beg me for it, and I’ll fuck you, just like you wanted.”

“Please, Rocket?  I need you to fuck me, please; I want your cock inside me so goddamn badly- please just fuck me already-”

Rocket, convinced by your pleas, complies and interrupts you by undoing his clothing and unzipping his pants while you whimper at the sudden removal of his now-soaked fingers.

He lines his hips up with yours, the look on his face ravenous; he finally pushes into you slowly.  You’re left to grip tightly on his shoulders, watching as his cock disappears into you.  He’s smaller than an average male human but relatively girthy, and you feel his tip brush against your G-spot.  You whimper from his entrance, feeling full as he completely bottoms you out, massaging your inner walls.

Rocket’s breath hitches as he slowly starts to work you open, his hands spreading your thighs apart for better access.  He groans, setting a languid pace as he ruts into your warm and inviting cunt.  You raise your hips a little higher in response, aching to feel more of him.  His current tempo is sloppier than before, now being guided by his pleasure instead of yours alone.  The wet sound of Rocket’s hips rolling into yours is pornographic and explicit; you can hear him fucking in and out of your cunt.  You’re sure that your wetness has gotten all over Rocket’s fur by now, but at the moment, he doesn’t mind.

One of his hands leaves your thigh to offer attention to your swollen clit, gently circling around it, while the other hand grips you harshly.  Rocket becomes noticeably more vocal as his pace quickens, albeit opting for low grunts and moans.  The pleasure builds up in your lower stomach, and your lower lip trembles as you grip the bunk’s bedsheets.

“Shit, Rocket, you feel so good,” you mewl, stumbling over your words while he erratically thrusts into you.  Rocket’s greedy for every moan that leaves your lips, hoping to wring every one of them out your mouth.  He grunts, pace unfaltering as your walls flutter around his cock, tightening around him like you don’t want him to let go.

“You’re doin’ so well for me, sweetheart,” Rocket huffs, his almost soft voice contradicting his frenzied rhythm.  You whimper and whine with each thrust, enjoying how Rocket fills you up with his cock, and how the curve hits your G-spot.  “Such a good fuckin’ girl for me.”

Tension builds in your stomach, and your toes curl from the sheer pleasure.  Despite Rocket’s unrelenting tempo, the feel of his hands and the look on his face is strangely soft and tender.  His fingers circle around your clit more quickly, and you feel heat spread under your skin.

“Rocket, I’m getting close,” you murmur, the burning coil within your abdomen intensifying with each second he pumps inside you.  With a moan, you let out a shaky breath as he rocks his hips into yours, feeling dangerously close to your climax.  From watching him loudly groan and how he haphazardly ruts into you, he’s also close to orgasm.

“Fuck, doll, you’re so beautiful like this,” Rocket praises, inhaling sharply as his cock twitches inside you.  “C’mon, sweetheart.  Cum on my cock.”

Without a second thought, you nod, succumbing to pleasure as Rocket pounds himself into you, his hand rubbing at your clit.  Tiny beads of sweat pool on your forehead as you begin to finish, and Rocket rolls a thumb over your nipple, almost encouraging you to cum.  Your walls spasm around his cock, begging him to do the same.  The feeling of him inside you, combined with the constant attention your clit receives, is overstimulating, and you’re barely able to hold back from coming.

“Inside me, Rocket,” you beg, trembling from sensitivity and euphoria.  “Please, cum inside me.”

Rocket only grins, a smug look forming on his face.  The white coil only amplifies, reducing you to a wordless, desperate mess underneath him until it finally snaps, and you come undone on his cock.  Eyes rolling back from the increased pleasure, you see stars in your blurred vision; you spasm around him, and with a few last strokes, Rocket cums inside you, emptying himself inside you.  His pace slows as you convulse around him, attempting to milk every drop of his cum, and your heartbeat slows from its high.

His last strokes are sloppy and frantic; Rocket huffs as he finally drains every bit of himself inside you.  Your muscles tense from aftershocks, and you hear Rocket silently swear.  With an embarrassingly wet squelch sound, Rocket pulls out his cock, leaving some of his cum to drip from your cunt, and onto your thighs.  Trying to regain your strength, you momentarily remain silent, basking in the afterglow, and he does the same.

Your breathing is labored, still coming down from your high.  “Sorry I got your fur wet,” you beam, your knees still weak from copulation, and Rocket lets out a low laugh.  You shift your body over to the far side of the bunk, offering Rocket space to sit next to you.  Without a word, he complies, his back laid against your front, and he sighs in contentment.

“I’ll shower in the mornin,’ doll,” he replies, fixing his messy hair, attempting to freshen up.  Rocket’s head rests on your neck; hesitantly, you put your arm around him, but he doesn’t mind it, although it takes him a second to adjust to the newfound affection.  You contentedly sigh, languidly running your fingers through his soft fur, and Rocket practically melts at the touch of your fingers.

“Y'know, I really like you, Rocket,” you quietly whisper, although just loud enough for him to hear.  Rocket doesn’t respond for a few seconds, leaving you in empty silence and a tiny bit of nervousness. 'Love' is a strong word; the word 'like' is weaker. However, right now, both don't fit right coming out of your mouth. It's too late to retract saying 'I really like you,' but before you can conjure a second thought, Rocket gathers his voice.

“Yeah.  I like you a whole lot too." Your face softens, and you wrap your arms around him, surprisingly being met with no protest from Rocket.  You softly kiss his forehead and doze off into slumber, Rocket huddled in your arms. Tomorrow morning, you’re certain Star-Lord would barge into your bunk to wake you up for the next contract, but for now, you’re happy to lay in bed and worry about it later.

[mcflymemes]

AS SAID BY IRON BULL  *  assorted dialogue from dragon age inquisition, updated version

hey, don't top from the bottom.

next time you're free, why don't you come grab a drink?

didn't figure you were the kind to bed your way to power.

love is all starlight and gentle blushes. passion leaves your fingers sore from clawing the sheets.

do you want your silky underthings back, or did you leave those like a token?

you're the toughest, wisest, most beautiful person i've ever met.

these big muscled hands could tear those robes off you while you struggled, helpless in my grip.

i will never hurt you without your permission. you will always be safe.

you don't need to be afraid... unless you want to.

you see us as this forbidden, terrible thing, and you're inclined to do the forbidden...

you want to watch, don't you?

make sure you undress him with your eyes... respectfully.

i'd offer to help you get rid of that frustration but, you know... i'm in a committed relationship.

next time we're alone, i'm going to pin you down and do things your body won't believe.

all that crap made sense to you?

i can't tell you how proud i'm gonna be, watching you out there, addressing them... with this big, old love bite on your neck.

wait, i'll flex a little for you. make it easier.

that staff's in pretty good shape. do you spend a lot of time polishing it?

i can see you don't want to talk about it. bet you looked good doing it, though.

how do you manage that while staring up at everyone's ass the whole time?

you and i are fine as long as you don't do any weird crap.

i'd pin you down, and as you gripped me, i... would... conquer... you.

oh, for shit's sake.

good. i like that energy. stoke those fires, big guy.

all i'm saying is... you ever want to explore that, my door's always open.

worked that out on your own, did you?

you're not as flashy as most mages.

wait, did you "forget" them so you'd have an excuse to come back? you sly dog.

i didn't say it was healthy.

you don't actually like thinking about hurting people, do you?

if you do that, everyone knows you're a spy.

still waiting for me to do something sneaky and spy-like?

we probably won't try down to burn down a city this time.

really not sad i missed that one.

you're lucky then. it was awful.

you only lack the will to get more blood on your hands?

enjoying the great outdoors?

this area's low on dancing girls, sadly.

i've always liked fighting.

i'm not sure you know what you're asking. not sure if you're ready for it.

well, that's a fucking relief.

i'm fine. hurt myself worse than this fooling around in bed.

so, you going to let me have it, [name]? or do i get to wait and wonder?

you really kicked the crap outta that guy.

it's pretty hot where we're from.

it's not a secret. it's just too big for a quit chat.

you get that thing i asked about?

maybe you should stand in front of me.

you ever get the asses mixed up?

you're a damn fine marksman.

i fell on a guy who tried to stab me in the gut.

all right, now you're just making it weird.

nobody fights well when their clothes are on fire.

i... didn't mean to offend you.

that hurts, [name]. that's hurtful.

i may have done it a couple of times on purpose.

i cold 'cause it freezes them, and then they break into little bits when i chop them in half.

with the magic, do you prefer fire, or lightning, or cold, or what?

you don't need to worry. i have no intention of trying to leash anyone.

are you gonna write me into one of your stories?

it's just daring somebody to try to attack it.

when that breaks, you fix it. like we're doing now.

in theory, they're no different from anyone else.

anyone who takes that burden and lives a good life with it has many respect.

you're pretty tall for a human.

the bloodstains are good for scaring enemies.

could you make it sound angrier? "love" is a bit soft.

tell me more about the coat.

i don't need a book to remind me that the world is full of horrible crap.

you're really good with that bow.

it's just friendly. i won't step in your business.

what i'm saying is, please stop stealing my kills.

we should get shirts. probably need different sizes.

i think you're confusing. how can you just pick and choose what parts you believe in?

you know, i really like hitting things.

who has sex smelling like roses?

hey, i don't hate you. you and me? we're good.

hey, no-pants fridays is a cause.

it's a difficult thing you've done, turning your back on one life to live another.

[doctorprofessorsong]

carving deep blue ripples by dothraki_shieldmaiden @dothwrites (Explicit, 85k)

I am a sucker for Stanford Era Dean and a creature Cas fic, so this one feels tailormade to my interests.

Dean finds himself hunting alone after his Dad sends him away with the Impala. It was bad enough when Sammy walked out the door, but now his own Dad has sent him away. But Dean’s a hunter, so that's what he's gonna do. A chance encounter with Cas, another hunter, evolves into a partnership and, perhaps, if Dean can just let go, something more. But Cas has a secret that threatens to tear them apart.

This one has great mythology, top tier monsters and so much delicious pining. Dothraki_shieldmaiden manages to incorporate so much delicious canon into this adjacent fic that you will be gnawing at the walls. Seriously buckle up. It's a great ride.

Heavyweight by valleydean (emmbrancsxx0) @valleydean (Explicit, 206k)

Look, Mallory has the unique ability to write versions of Dean and Cas that crawl into your brain and set up residence, but these particular ones are just *chef's kiss* perfection. Deeply unwell over each other, off-putting and sometimes objectively terrible and yet I love them to my bones.

Set in the 1920s against the backdrop of the golden age of boxing, Dean is a light heavyweight champion looking to make his name in the heavyweights. But the reappearance of his secret ex, Cas, threatens everything. Cas left town under the cloud of a scandal. Left DEAN. And now he's back to try and restore his name.

The pining. The push and pull. There were times where I thought a happy ending was impossible but she did it. She really really did. There’s horny sparring. There are suits and fancy prohibition Era parties. There are VIBES. Seriously this one is just so freaking good.

When I Knew You by FriendofCarlotta and xfancyfranart @friendofcarlotta , @xfancyfranart (Explicit, 54k)

Time travel love stories are tricky and sometimes they hit for me (as you can probably guess from my name) while sometimes the don't. This one was an absolute homerun. Dean and Cas are both so deeply lonely and there is this sense of desperate intensity that is woven through the story that will male you feral.

Dean's working to try to put together the cracked pieces of his life after the one two punch of losing his dad and his business. But he's off to a rocky start when he learns that the prior owner of his new house died suddenly.

Even stranger, a shimmering light appears in his living room and suddenly he finds himself face to face with the guy, somehow having traveled to the past. In stolen moments, they discover that maybe happiness isn't as elusive as it felt. But the time is ticking. Can Dean save Cas from his fate, and if so, what will happen to them?

Dean Winchester and the Stolen Tupperware by MalMuses @malmuses (Explicit, 35k)

It's been a hot minute since this one came out and you may have already heard about it as a result, but this fic is just a fluffy, pure delight.

Cas is a single, nerdy professor whose idea of a wild Saturday night is watching dashing Dean Winchester, a real life Indiana Jones type adventurer archeologist, on YouTube. Dean is looking for some stability and just hoping to find a place to establish a career that doesn't involve constantly traveling. Sparks and awkward cuteness fly when they meet.

This one is perfect for a low angst love story. Also, Dean and Cas will make you deeply fond (and Meg in this fic can step on me).

Night at the Impala Theater by Speary @spearywritesstuff (Explicit, 52k)

It's difficult to explain what is so great about this fic without revealing more than I want to about the plot because there are some delightful and twisty bits. Suffice to say, it's a fun ride not just because of Dean and Cas, but the really fun side characters (Especially Rowena, my beloved, who is amazing and witchy).

The story revolves around Dean, a lonely guy running the family business - a historic movie theater he inherited from his Dad. But his life is changed when he finds a mysterious film series on his doorstep. The film noir flick follows a smoldering PI named Castiel. For some reason Dean can't get enough of the movies. And yet, all attempts to track down any information about the series is frustratingly bare. Where will his obsession lead? Not telling. Go read it. :)

torture is your name on my lips by theseancequeen @theseancequeen (Explicit, 4.6k)

This fun little one-shot smutty yet emotional fic explores a world where Demon Dean summons Cas after years of separation and they hook up while both lying about the depth of their feelings. It's a magnificent blend of angst, softness and need that ends on a deeply satisfying and surprisingly hopeful note.

Scorched Earth by AmberXBoone @amberxboone (Explicit, 155k)

Distraught over confirmation that his father intentionally started the fire that killed Mary Winchester (and nearly Dean and Sam), and then used his position as a police officer in a corrupt system to cover it up, Dean decides to give John a taste of justice by burning him in his home. He's a murderer and he fully expects to pay. But a chance meeting with burnt out DA Castiel Novak changes both of their loves forever and suddenly they have something to fight for. Can they take down the corrupt system or will Dean be locked away?

The plot of this fic alone is a ride. But what really brings this one home is the impeccable use of canon characters. I love these versions of them all so much. And it's truly a delight to see everyone join together to fight the corruption and save Dean (whether he deserves it or not cause he definitely doesn't think he deserves to be saved). The fic is also broken up into short chapters which makes it super readable if you are the type who picks things up for one scene and then puts it back down (could never be me I binged it like i was on fire myself but I admire it).

The premise is dark, but it's the light moments that make this fic really shine.

Check out my other fic recs at @riversrecs

[ejunkiet]

ej's adventures in romance: the good, the bad, the ugly

i've had kindle unlimited for the few months, and have been on a deep deep dive into all the recs from the romance genre that i can get my grubby little paws on. I've read.... many, many books. so many.

I've made a rec list of my new fave authors in the genre before, and this is not that. I'm just gonna list what I've read, by tropes, with ratings, and you can read my full reviews on goodreads. I've gone there. there are quite a few of the booktok hits here, because they came up on rec lists, and I'm gonna give my honest opinions on them okay. my goodreads!

Before we get down and dirty, have my actual recs from the last month: Heather Guerre remains a diamond in the rough, although she can now be joined by a further two authors: Kathyrn Moon (smutty RH queen) and Zoey Draven, a surprise last minute entry that doesn't shy away from darker themes, but handles them maturely.

other recs are the obvious: Talia Hibbert, Katee Roberts, and our very own @dominimoonbeam (whose book Doors I've been reccing a LOT lately, as I love it so much, and the sequel will be out soon >:3)

Okay. lets do this. this gets long, be warned. >:3

the "grovel" trope

books where the MMC fucks up and tries to make up for their mistakes. a good read where you get a healthy dose of angst and then a lot of making up for it. can be a great cathartic read.

Cate C. Wells has a whole series dedicated to this, "the five packs", one of which I already recommended as a guilty pleasure: the lone wolf's rejected mate". Now look, these books are ridiculous, the worldstate is terrible, each pack is a dude fest that reeks of misogyny, but they're pretty fun. I've read book 1 and book 3. I want to stab the MMC of book 1 with a rusty spork. you can skip it.

the lone wolf's rejected mate however is a ride, with a broken MMC who rejects his soulmate because he thinks he's too broken (literally, his wolf tries to kill her), and then they get captured, save each other, and he builds her a treehouse, yada yada. mind the content warnings, but if you want to read something OTT that basically epitomises the craziness that is the PNR and "grovel" romance genre, read this, and hold onto your butts.

the paranormal romance genre: shifters, vampires and more

Heather Guerre's books. okay, so actual recs. She focuses on characters from working class backgrounds with a sprinkle of the paranormal thrown in, everyone is over the age of 25 (thank god, most are in their 30s), and she can really write. I won't tag Eeshley again, but the "Tooth and Claw" series was their rec and *chefs kiss*. this is still the self-published romance genre, so these books could use an editor/polish, but honestly, I'm a big fan of her writing, and have picked up all her books. (her contemporary romance is also excellent.)

post-apocalyptic trope

Claire Kent's books. Imagine Joel from the last of us as a book series. I've only read Last Light so far, which is the prequel to a longer series that explores life in america 5+ years after an asteroid collides with western europe, causing global environmental catastrophes. I'm not 100% sold on her world building, but this is a romance novel, and the way she writes the characters and their relationships are human and organic, and the most realistic I've come across so far. the world state is the walking dead, with evil biker gangs that rape and pillage. i'm assuming this is an american thing, but can't comment on what it'd be like in the UK considering we no longer exist, due to aforementioned asteroid collision. probably for the best.

omegaverse and reverse harem tropes

yeah, I thought omegaverse was just a fanfic thing too. it's not, and it is super prevalent in het romance. it was never really my thing in fanfic, and the fact it is not a shifter thing was very surprising to me, as knots/packs/heat/rut still exist, but it's just humans with animalistic traits. I kept on waiting for the motorcycle gang in 'baby and the late night howlers' to turn into wolves, and they never did.

So Kathryn Moon writes some delicious reverse harem books. I read the first of monsterfucker series 'a lady of rooksgrave manor' years ago, and liked it, although there wasn't enough plot for me to continue. she writes excellent smut. Seriously, just really, really good smut. BIG FAN. I've been making my way through her 'Sweetverse' series, which has more connections and actual relationships between the characters, and polymances, and I recommend starting with Lola + the millionaires, if you can handle a little omegaverse. mind the content warnings, this is a book about recovering from trauma, which happened in the first book (baby's book, although offscreen. Lola has a lot of flashbacks in italics.)

Otherwise, you can stick with the monsterfucker books! I bought her latest monster series off of regular kindle, instead of KU, and I'm really excited to read it hehehe

"mars need more women" and "fated mate" tropes

hehehe okay HERE WE GO. these books are all about women ending up on planets where due to some sort of cataclysmic event - disease, mostly - 80% of the female population of the planet has died. now as we're not here for angst, the arrival of these women are usually due to some other species abducting them, and they are then "rescued" or recovered after a crash on metaphorical mars, which needs a better sex ratio to ensure the survival of the species.

this trope is coupled with "fated mate" tropes, where basically the rescued/recovered women end up with a devoted alien husband, who yearns until he can win her over (we're all about consent here folks)

the ice planet barbarians series by ruby dixon. this is basically na'vi aliens that crashlanded on an ice planet 250 odd years ago, and have made it their home, living in tribal colonies. to survive in this planet's toxic atmosphere, they've taken in a native parasite called a 'khui' which helps their bodies adapt to the climate and atmosphere. the women in the books also receive the same parasite to survive (they're given the choice), and this is the basis of the "mate bonds" formed throughout the series.

now book 1 is a rocky start, and the weakest of the series. I nearly put it down because of the first 20 pages. you can skip the first 20 pages. it basically recounts the abduction of the women from their home planet, and mistreatment by their captors (tw for sexual assault of a side character, not explicit). the ship malfunctions, and the women "cargo" are dropped onto the ice planet, where they are found by the not-na'vi, who are called sa-khui, because of the parasite.

now the rest of the series is about adapting to life on an alien planet, understanding the culture of the sa-khui, and gaining a devoted alien hubby. look, I read four books in a week. they're fun, they're exciting, the smut is good, and it's an easy read. it's also written by an experienced and practiced author, as the topics are handled maturely, it doesn't take itself too seriously, and it has great representation.

(one of my favourite books in the series, book 7, is centred around Lilah, who was born deaf and had a cochlear implant that was surgically removed during the abduction. the book focuses on her struggling to adapt to life on the planet, aided by a sa-khui that rescues her and learns ASL to communicate, and it's an excellent read okay)

I'd say read book 1 (maybe skipping first 20 pages, or even to part 2) for context, read book 2 (my favourite of the series omg), and then pick and choose from there!! I've read 1,2,4,7, and I'm gonna end up coming back for more hehehe.

"choosing theo" is another in this genre, but it didn't quite vibe with me. it leans into the 'rescued human ends up on a planet that needs women for propagation', with a matriarchal society where the men go to husbandry school to learn how to please women, and all residents of the planet are required to participate in three month long marriages to try to find potential mates to propagate the species. the premise is a fun one, but the first book is not the strongest, and I didn't continue from there. (another rusty spork for the MMC...)

dothraki in space trope

we're at the end of my trope list! I liked the ice planet barbarian series a lot, and I'd kept on seeing the Horde Kings of Dakkar by Zoey Draven recommended, and they are good. (thank you woofs >:3) think dothraki from GoT in space; humans live in small, poorly maintained colonies on the Dakkar planet, where they aren't allowed to hunt or damage the earth. offenses are punishable by death. these books lean into the captive trope, and handle the issues of the worldstate and navigating cultural differences super well, with a heavy dose of consent and BAMF heroines that rise up to their situation and make a place for themselves in their new (objectively better) lives.

i'm on book two now, and I love the maturity in the characters and the writing (which I did not find in 'choosing theo'), and they're an excellent romp. fantastic rec, really glad I picked this up >:3

am I finally going to take a break from my reading binge now? I keep on saying I will, and then not doing that ahahahaha. my kindle library is still stuffed full, mainly with other books from my fave authors above, but also some nice space horror to round it off.

next on my list is gonna be either 'Haunt, Heart, Havoc', a horror romance that I've been meaning to read forever, or 'Dead silence', which is aliens meets titanic in space. >:3 if you read all of this, KUDOS TO YOU, have a lovely sunday ahahaha!

[captianprices40thson]

Plz write a mw2 story with all 141 members going to a bar after m/n had a successful mission. M/n got drunk and starts flirting with a LOT of guys and ghost and soap got jealous and starts acting all pissed. It ends up with ghost and soap forcing M/n to sit and shut up after him asks a guy to give him a bj.

I’m a sorry sucker and this happens all the time.

Requested: Yes

Warnings: None

Ghost and Soap are dating, both have a thing for Reader. Reader has a thing for both of them, but he doesn’t act on it.

Word count: 1.7k

Notes: Once again, class means nothing when you have fanfiction to write. I apologise for this being shorter than all the other ones, but I am not as good at writing fluff y’all. I appreciate every reblog, like and comment that I get, thank you so much for leaving a note! My requests are open and I am currently working on one. Check out what I do and don’t on my profile. Also, sorry that this took longer than expected to write. It was my birthday and I’ve been busy with everything surrounding that. If you want me to rewrite this at ALL, PLEASE TELL ME.

(Also I have no idea how flirting works. The three (3) people I’ve ever dated just sort of intimidated me and they were attracted to my sad cat personality…and probably my dedication to THE GRIND. And not to flex, but imagine Alejandro, Rudy and Valeria and take them and their personalities, they’re basically the people I dated. So obviously, I have no idea what’s going on in the dating world.)

“Cheers to another successful mission, gentleman.” Price smiled, raising his glass to the rest of the table, all of which raised their own in return. Ghost was not only not drinking due to his mask, but he was also in charge of driving everyone back, meaning he raised an empty water glass.

“Still don’t know how you managed to locate me, Y/N. I swore I was a deadman the moment my radio broke.” Gaz smiled, looking over at you, who had already begun downing your drink of choice, paid for by your captain as always.

“Yep, eyes of a bat that one.” Ghost smiled, placing an arm around you since you clearly weren’t going to respond. For some reason, Soap scoffed and spoke up.

“Ghost, come on. Everyone knows bats have terrible eyesight. Ever heard of the phrase ‘blind as a bat?’” Soap smirked, acting like he had gotten Ghost trapped in a corner when in actual fact he was highlighting his own stupidity.

“No…bats have great eyesight. ‘Blind as a bat’ is wrong and a misconception.” Ghost spoke back, taking his arm back from you and placing it on the table so he could explain to Soap more. Meanwhile, your eyes had caught sight of a guy over at the bar.

“Jesus christ. That's some eye candy right there.” You unknowingly whispered to yourself, catching the ear of Gaz who was also looking over in that direction. He smiled, understanding the appeal that the tall stranger had.

“I’m gonna go talk to him.” “I think he’s with friends. Do you really wanna bother him?” Gaz asked, looking over to you. You smiled, taking a sip of your respective drink and placing the empty glass down on the table. You pushed yourself up off the table, placing a hand down on the wood as you exited the booth.

“I have two holes, Garrick.” You informed him. He seemed to accept that answer and only after you had walked away he called out a very confused ‘what!?’

You turned back to him, motioning to your mouth and then making a circle around your ass. He looked very confused and shocked, deciding that clearly you were a lightweight right then and there and also, you were way too drunk already.

Meanwhile, Price had finally finished breaking up the ‘fight’ between Ghost and Soap about bats, which had somehow turned into them trying to figure out Obama’s last name. Ghost was insistent that Obama was his first name as a joke and Soap wasn’t picking up that Ghost was joking.

“His last name is Obama.” Soap whispered as he crossed his arms, but Ghost was already distracted with the absence of you. He looked around the booth, it felt empty without you.

“Anyone seen Y/N?” “I quite like that one, don’t lose him.” Price nodded, taking a swig of his own drink. Ghost looked over to Gaz, who put his own glass down and spoke up.

“I uhm…he just went off to go talk to some guy. He’d be over by the bar.” Gaz explained, pointing a thumb over to the bar. There were people standing in front of where Ghost assumed you would be so he couldn’t confirm you were there, but he trusted the word of Gaz over his own judgement anyday.

“Come on.” The taller man huffed, grabbing Soap’s wrist and hauling him up so that they could exit the booth, both of them having to shuffle over Gaz and Price’s laps to get out. Soap groaned, asking why he had to go with him.

“Because, you’re an asshole and you know your way around these bars better than me. Also, I don’t want to talk to anyone and we’re gonna have to go grab our man back.” Ghost responded, not letting go of Soap’s arm as they walked around the bar. There were many bright colours and people walking around, making it hard for either man to concentrate.

“I see him.” Soap spoke up, pointing over to a corner where you were sat, clearly sipping someone else's drink while you chatted to the man. They both made their way over to you and Ghost placed a hand on your shoulder.

“Y/N, Come on. We’re celebrating a win, you can’t flirt with every man you see.” Soap smiled, ushering a quick apologies to the man sitting opposite you. To no one’s surprise, he didn’t mind the fact you were talking to him. He seemed sad to see you go.

“Go celebrate with your…friends, man. I’ll see you later.” He smiled, giving you a wink as you stood up, a small blush appearing on your face. (Yeah that’s right, baby. I’m giving you charisma because you deserve it.)

“Jesus, Y/N. We don’t give you attention for three seconds and you’re already trying to get into someone’s pants?” Ghost asked as he walked you back to the bar, noticing how sad you were that you were no longer flirting with a stranger at a bar. When a small ping went off and you checked your phone to a text message from the man you were just chatting with. A picture of you being dragged back to your booth.

“How did you already get his number?” Soap whisper-shouted as he watched you smile at the message. You merely shrugged your shoulders, giving them a cat-like smirk as you walked back.

—--

“Where the fuck did that little bitch go.” Soap asked exactly two minutes after they had sat back down, looking over at the empty spot at the booth where your ass was meant to be sat. You know in cartoons where something was meant to be somewhere and the little broken white lines appear around where it should be? That's sort of what was going on in his mind.

“Bar.” Gaz simply replied. Soap’s head shot over to where Gaz had said and sure enough, you were talking to a guy who looked like he could kill you in three seconds, next to him a guy that looked as if he couldn’t harm a fly. 

“Jesus Christ, come on. Let’s get him before he gets himself into trouble.” Ghost groaned, knowing that once you were drunk you basically had no filter.

“We’ve got to strap him down next time. This is meant to be a celebration between teammates, not…not Y/N leaving the table every time he can.” Soap mumbled and Ghost stopped for a minute, looking down at his shorter companion.

“Hey…does it really bother you that much that he keeps leaving?” Ghost asked and Soap nodded, crossing his arms.

“It’s just…we’re meant to be a team, a group. We’ve just been through hell together and all Y/N can think about is hopping on the next dick he sees. I just thought we could all spend some time…together, as the fucked up family we are.” Soap admitted, making eye contact with Ghost. There was sympathy in Ghost’s tone when he spoke next.

“Well…we’re gonna get him back, place him in between us and I'm gonna take his phone so he won’t receive any messages from any other guys other than the ones he’s supposed to be with. Alright?” Ghost told him and Soap smiled, nodding as they walked up to where your horny ass was sitting.

“-And it’s like, holyyyy shit. I was nearly shot!” As both men came into earshot, they could hear you clearly describing the mission you were just on to the two men, both of them looking interested as hell. Soap looked over to Ghost, knowing they should stop you seeing as all that stuff was classified and shouldn’t be told to random’s in this bar. When Ghost was about to place his hand on your shoulder and drag you back, you decided to say something the Scot nor the Brit would expect.

“Hey, can you get me a Sidecar with a side of a BJ?” You asked the main guy you were talking to. Both military men exchanged a glance before Soap decided to step in.

“WOAH THERE, Y/N. LETS NOT.” He awkwardly spoke, placing a hand on your shoulder and making you get off the stool. You groaned something about them ruining your chance at getting lucky before immediately tripping over and falling face first on the floor.

“I apologise for him, guys.” Ghost apologised to the men before helping Soap get you off the floor. Despite being in the military causing you to go through intense physical and mental training, you really weren’t heavy to them at all, which made it easier to drag you back to the table.

____

“Yeah, this is better than being at the bar. No offence to any of those guys, but you four are my type of people.” You admitted, now only being fed water in order to attempt to not make you die.

Soap shot a smile at Ghost, who gave him a wink since his smile couldn’t be seen under the mask. Price looked over his three men sitting opposite him and Gaz, both of them moving so that you could be boxed in.

“Once again, while we have all of you here, cheers to another successful mission, gentlemen.” Price smiled, raising his glass. The rest of the task force respectfully doing the same.

[petrichor-idyllic]

HI i love ur writings for minho so much oh my god they keep me thriving. i was wondering if you’d be up for doing like a modern highschool au with minho where he keeps trying to ask the reader out, and she keeps saying no because she thinks it’s joke, until she confronts him and he gets all serious and tells her it’s not a joke and then there’s a little bit (a lot) of spice at the end🤭🤭

Ooo okay okay, my first AU story, this is definitely going to be a bit different.

Again, assuming fem!reader because pronouns used in the request.

HIGH SCHOOL NOT-SO-SWEETHEARTS

MASTERLIST | MINHO MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: See above. Fem! Studious! High-school! Reader x Popular! High-school! Minho.

WARNINGS: Inappropriate language, the American education system which I simply do not understand or what is taught in American classrooms, spicy content, terrible teenage flirting, kinda of insecure reader, guilty pleasure high school drama tropes, I do not condone Minho's constant questioning of the reader- no means no, guys. No Glader slang here, folks- they ain't stuck in the Maze now.

You are not a popular person.

Not that you mind. You have your small circle of friends and staying out of the typical teenage drama really is a blessing, especially during your Senior year.

It's not like you're disliked, you're just not someone most people pay attention to, and you like it that way.

You get to focus on your studies, your family and your close friends, which is more than enough to keep you happy.

Well, it would be if you weren't kind of a hopeless romantic. No matter how many times you tell yourself you don't want a boyfriend and that you don't need one, you spend a lot of time fantasing about what it would be like to be in a relationship. Like going on dates, having cute inside jokes, meeting your partners parents, and... other things.

In typical horny teenage fashion, you do spend a lot of time thinking about the more intimate parts of your desired relationship. But, alas, you simply do not have anyone interested in you, nor do you have the time.

(You totally do have the time; you're way ahead of your classes and are passing with flying colours- but you tell yourself that.)

Except that's actually not quite right.

"Dude, I am totally fucking up this titration, are you gonna help me or not?" Gally mumbles from behind the desk of the chemistry lab. How Gally and Minho got into AP chemistry is beyond me, and the teacher, and the whole entire class.

Probably to do with them cheating on their mid-terms. But that's irrelevant.

"Minho, dude," he shoves his friend, who has been casually leaning on the desk staring off into space, as per usual.

Well, not into space exactly.

"What? Huh? Oh, right, yeah." He clears his throat. "Acid in the... tube thing and we put that in the base and bang, shit changes colour- it ain't that hard."

"It's an acid-base titration."

"So?"

"So, we're seeing how much base it takes to neutralise the acid- the acid goes in the beaker!"

"What's the damn difference?"

Gally pauses.

He does not know.

"Whatever, the titrate is already in the shitty tube and now we gotta drip feed it in."

"Sounds like you know what you're doin', then." Gally frowns at the boy.

Maybe it wasn't a smart idea for them to both cheat when the only thing they have in common is being friends with Siggy (aka Frypan, the groups best, and only, cook.)

"Yanno, maybe if you didn't spend half your time staring at your nerd crush, then we might actually get past this with a C."

Minho glares at his friend. His crush on you is very much a teasing point in his friend group.

It started when he was struggling with an equation in Sophmore year. He'd just sprained his ankle after a training session with the Track-and-Sprint team and was particularly stressed about it. So, anything remotely out of his academic field was bound to make his day worse.

It's not like Minho is dumb. He's actually incredibly intelligent. He has a great memory and can understand people with little to no effort- anything scientific really isn't his thing though.

So, when you felt bad for him, watching him anxiously tap his good foot and spin his pen in his hand, you slipped him your answer sheet. He was stunned, especially since you'd never spoken before. But, when you smiled at him, giving him a reassuring nod, he never really got over it.

"Shut up, man."

"You know, actually, that's not a bad idea."

"What?"

"Yo, (Y/N)!" You perk your head up, flashing a concerned look at Harriet, your lab partner, as Gally shouts you. "Could you help us out? You're like smart, right?"

"Gally! Dude-" Minho whisper-yells at the boy, ducking into himself when you respond.

"Uh, sure," you walk away from your perfect set up to the chaos of the boys'. "What's up?"

You stand with your hands behind your back, looking between them. "Minho," he nudges his friend, "tell the girl what's wrong."

Minho blinks. "Well, uh, I don't know- you're the one who said there's a problem."

Gally scoffs. "The fucking thing won't change colour- ain't it meant to go pink?"

You glance between them, suddenly feeling very small.

You're not popular, which means guys like these have often teased you or do things like this because they think it's funny. It's gotten better over time with age, but you still feel like the scared little freshman that would get teased by older boys.

"Well, did you put the phenolphthalein in the beaker?"

They both blankly look at you. So, you pick up the small, dark bottle. Shaking it at them, you open the bottle, letting the liquid fall from the dripper and into the clear acid, which immediately turns a bright fusia.

You pull your lips into a thin line as they both stare at the beaker, no thoughts behind the eyes.

"Ah." Gally says after a couple of seconds.

"Yeah." You respond.

"Uh, thanks," Minho awkwardly stands up properly from his leaning position over the lab table.

"No problem."

You turn to walk away, but as Gally makes shifty eyes at his friend, Minho finally takes the hint. He's been crushing on you forever, he might aswell do something about it.

"Uh, wait, hold on," you turn to face him as he walks around the desk. "I gotta ask you somethin'."

"I'm sure your titration's fine, just don't pour it too quick or the results will be wrong."

"No, uh, not that." Gally snorts, not at you but at Minho's awkwardness, but it still makes you feel very insecure. "I was wondering if you wanted to hang out maybe, sometime?"

"Hang out?"

"Yeah," Gally laughs, covering his mouth and turning away, "Gally, shut up, bro." Minho is quick to snap at him. "Like... a date, maybe?"

You scoff, anger swelling inside of you. This isn't the first times it's happened, but probably the worst because you actually like Minho.

Sure, he hangs out with douchebags like Gally, but you thought he was cool. Say, you may even have a slight crush on him. He's handsome, funny, and, for the most part, kind.

Well, you thought he was at least.

"Real funny, asshole."

You walk away, returning to a very confused Harriet.

Minho stands in stunned silence. He's never been rejected before- nevermind like that.

Gally bursts out laughing.

"What just happened?" Minho asks no one in particular, visible confusion washing over him.

"You just got fuckin' rejected, bro! Ha!"

"No, that was weird." He's never heard of anyone being rejected like that before.

"Well, try again, then, pretty boy- it's nice to see someone knock your ego down a peg." Minho gives a sarcastic grin to Gally before shoving him. "You gonna help me with this damn titration, now, or what?"

"Dude, what was that about?" Harriet whispers as you immediately go back to your third reading.

"Minho just asked me out." You state, matter-of-factly.

"What?" She says a bit too loud, making multiple heads look at her. "What?" She repeats, quieter.

"It was a joke- Gally was laughing the whole time. I hate guys like that."

"Are you sure?" You glare at her. "I'm just sayin', I didn't think Minho was that typa guy, that's all."

"Yeah, neither did I."

"Pricks."

You scoff before she smiles at you.

You finish up the lab session, and you're quick to leave, meeting Sonya and Aris at the door as you all share history together.

"Hey, (Y/N)!" You keep walking, ignoring Minho's voice from behind you. "Yo! Hey! Wait!"

"What?" You snap, turning around suddenly to face him, making him jump as Sonya and Aris exchange glances.

"Did I, uh, did I do something? 'Cause back there you-"

"You think you're funny, huh?" Harriet butts in, defending you. "That's a sick joke, yanno; give it up now before you become even more of a dick. C'mon." She grabs your wrist, pulling you away from him, your other friends left even more confused.

Later, in the cafeteria, Minho sits with his friends, silently picking at his food.

"Okay," Newt finally breaks the tension, "what's going on? Why are you sulking?"

"He got rejected by his long-term crush," Gally sneers, earning a glare from Minho.

"Holy shit, (Y/N)?" Teresa leans forward in her seat. "You actually asked her?"

"Yeah, and he got completely rejected."

"What? Why?" Thomas pipes up.

Minho shrugs. "She called me an asshole and walked away. Tried to talk to her after, and Harriet dragged her away."

"What?" At least three people ask.

"Yeah, so, that's three years of my romantic life wasted."

"Nah, man, you gotta ask again," Frypan says between mouthfuls of his homemade pasta, which is worlds better than the cafeteria food.

"What?"

"Keep askin', you'll either get an explanation or she'll say yes."

"I don't know if I agree with that," Teresa mumbles.

"Yeah, me neither," Newt mutters, and Frypan shushes them.

"Trust me, bro, chicks dig a guy that doesn't give up- ain't that right, Gally?"

"Oh, yeah," Gally agrees, sarcasm dripping in his voice. "That'll work."

And, for some God forsaken reason, Minho actually listens to this.

So, every day, for the next two weeks, Minho asks you out.

You think it's some kind of unruly on-going inside joke, and Harriet is practically frothing at the mouth, ready to rip Minho to shreads the first chance she gets. Minho, at the point, would just like a reason.

Not that he's owed one. But, Teresa and Newt's voices of reason keep getting drowned out by the other dumb boys, so he's still going.

That is until you have literally the worst day ever.

First, your Mom's car broke down, and she normally drops you off at school on her commute to work, so you arrived at your first period late. It also means she can't pick you up, it's not like you can't drive, but you don't have your own car, and now she doesn't have a car either.

And now it's throwing it down.

You then dropped a whole beaker of hydrochloric acid down your leg in chemistry. Which meant you had to borrow Sonya's PE shorts because you can't wear dangerous chemicals all day.

Then you left school- forgot you were tutoring Winston for extra credit, and had to run back to school, soaked, to spend another hour there.

Unbeknownst to you, Minho has extracurricular activities being captain of the Track team- which is taking place inside the hall because of the weather.

So, when you're walking through the parking lot, dressed like a drowned-rat and Minho pulls up beside you, you've just about had enough.

"(Y/N)?"

"Piss off, Minho! I won't tell you again!"

He slowly drives alongside you from his beat-up, old range rover, the window rolled down but he still has to shout.

"Okay! Okay! Dude, you're drenched, wearing shorts, okay? I'll give you a lift home-"

"No way- I'll walk."

"You're gonna get sick, man- I'll shut up and just take you home, alright? I'm not letting you walk in this- I'll feel like a dick."

"You don't already feel like a dick?"

He groans, tapping on the steering wheel. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable- I didn't mean to. But the weather's shit, and you can't play top-student if you're off 'cause you're ill."

You pause. He makes a good point. You turn to look at him, sighing. He puts the hand break on when you start to walk around the side of his car, dumping your bag at your feet as you open the door.

"What's your-"

"I'll give you directions."

"Okay..."

The ride is mainly in silent, with some old-school songs playing on the radio. Minho taps the steering wheel to the beat of "Eye of the Tiger" to try and distract himself from the awkwardness.

Your phone buzzes; it's Harriet calling you.

"Shit," you mumble.

"You good?" Minho asks you.

"Yeah, Harriet's calling me- we're meant to be figuring out our history project tonight but I forget to tell her I was tutoring."

You swipe across, pressing the phone to your ear. "Hey, man."

"Dude, you were meant to call me half an hour ago- we gotta brainstorm."

"Yeah, yeah, I know, I'm just on my way home, now."

"Did your Mom sort her car then? Doesn't sound like you're walking through a storm."

"No, I, uh..." You trail off. "I got offered a lift, I'm fine, I'll be home in like five minutes."

"A lift? Off who? Sonya has work so she couldn't of?" You hesitate. "Dude?"

"Uh, Minho, he caught me in the rain and offered to take me home."

"What?"

"Yeah, I know-"

"You're fucking with me, right?"

"Look, it's fine, I'll call you when I get home."

"You better." You hang up the phone, taking a deep breath.

"Sounds like she doesn't like me," Minho attempts to say.

"Yeah, I wonder why."

"Do you have a problem with me, or some shit? 'Cause I thought we were cool and then you just started acting like I was a dick."

"Because you are a dick!"

"What?" He looks at you for a second before returning his eyes to the road.

"Doesn't matter; pull over, it's my house on the left."

He does as he's told. There's no car in the drive so your Mom must've managed to get someone to take care of it- which means you've got an empty house.

Thank God because you're going to need to de-stress after the day you've had.

You immediately get out of the car, slamming the door behind you. But Minho is quick to follow you.

"Hey!" He shouts as you march up your front door steps. "Hey!" He grabs you wrist and you turn around, pushing him.

"What's your problem?" You shout. "I don't get why you think this is so fucking funny! Like, sure, have your one dumb joke where you ask out the freak to make your friend laugh! But why keep going! What's the point? You don't have your little audience now, do you? What? You gonna call them after and tell them how much fun you had pissing me off on our little drive? Or is it the fact I got in your car to begin with? Is that the joke, hm?"

Minho stands there, in the rain, his brows furrowing slightly as he takes in what you've said. It's an expression you've never seen on him before, but you don't plan on sticking around to find out what it means.

You turn, fumbling with your keys to unlock your door, managing to push it open.

"Wait, what?" He stops you in the door, and for some reason, you turn around.

"What?"

"You thought it was a joke?" His voice sounds sincere, almost sad.

"You and Gally were laughing at me-"

"No, Gally was laughing at me," he sighs, dropping his head. "He was laughing at me."

"What? Why would he-?"

"Because I've had a crush on you since I was fifteen. Ever since you gave me those damn notes, a-and I guess I never got over it. I just finally got the courage to say something and Gally thought it was funny- for some reason, I don't know." He takes a deep breath. "But I- shit," he throws his head back, letting the water wash over his face. "I was never joking."

You don't know what to say. It's like your body relaxes, your shoulders dropping as you shuffle forwards.

"I get it, if you don't like me- and I'll leave you alone now. Teresa gave me some lecture on how to treat girls," he lets out a soft chuckle, "Newt sounded like he was gonna rip my head off. But I was never joking, (Y/N)- I really fuckin' like you."

"I don't get it," you mumble. "Why would a guy like you like me?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're... popular. Everyone loves you- you're hot and athletic and you could get anyone you want. I don't get it."

He smirks, his shirt is starting to stick to him thanks to the rain and his hair is starting to flatten. "You think I'm hot?" You glare at him. "Right, yeah, not the point, sorry."

He takes in a deep breath. "How could I not like you? You're pretty, and funny, and passionate- and you try so hard and you help people whenever you can. You're... incredible."

"You barely know me."

He scoffs. "Maybe. But I think I've paid more attention to you than I have any of my classes. I know you're good at science, but you hate physics, even though you're good at it. But I know English is your favourite subject. I know that you became friends with Sonya and Aris because Harriet made you after you sat next to her in history. I know the only class you've ever skipped is PE, but I don't know why 'cause you'd actually be pretty decent on the girls' basketball team. And I know you're tutoring Winston after school because he doesn't shut up about it half the time."

He pauses. "I know about you- but I want to know you."

You're completely stunned. The fact that he's paid so much attention to you, and knows all of this makes your stomach flip and your heart rate speed up.

When you don't respond, Minho sighs, rubbing his forehead with his hand. "Sorry," he mumbles, "this is dumb; I'll leave you alone."

He steps away, turning around when you step forward. "Minho," you grab his wrist, making him turn around to face you fully. "I, uh, I have a crush on you, too."

He blinks. "What?"

"I thought you were cool, and I think I was only so upset that I thought it was a joke... because I actually like you, too?" It comes out as more of a question as you avoid his gaze. But when he doesn't say anything, you look at him.

He's smiling. It's a genuine and earnest expression. "Yeah, you actully-?"

"Just shut up and kiss me," you don't know where the surge of confidence came from. Maybe you can't take this sappy talk anymore, or that Minho looks too good being soaked wet through.

Stepping closer, he brings his hand to your cheek, brushing his thumb across your lips as your faces are inches apart. Finally, he leans in, closer the gap and kissing you.

Your hopeless romantic heart can't take it. Kissing the popular hot guy in the rain after what was basically a love confession? It's like something straight out of a movie.

He breaks the kiss for a second, eyes fluttering down at you before his kisses you again. This time, it's hungrier, pushing you back as you grab his shirt. Pulling him back and into your house, he slams the door behind him as you drop your bag on the floor with a heavy thump.

Almost immediately, he grabs you again, pushing you back into the wall of your hallway. You hum into his mouth, his hands coming to your waist, yanking your body closer to his. You're both damp and in uncomfortable clothes, but neither if you could care less as you drip on the floor.

Feeling more bold, you pull on his bottom lip with your teeth, making him grunt slightly before your tongues brush against one another.

Make out session is quick to become more heated as you graze your fingers over his abs through his shirt, which is sticking to him like glue. He senses your want for more, moving one of his hands to lift his shirt (struggling because wet clothes suck) before firmly pressing your hand to his mid-drift.

He breaks the kiss, his eyes flickering as you gently touch his bare skin, your eyes on his chiselled form. He sucks in a deep breath, his chest rising and falling.

It's almost like a drug. You're barely doing anything but he's never felt like this before. It's not like Minho is inexperienced due to a few hook-ups at parties. But, this is new.

He's literally getting drunk off of your touch. And you can tell.

Having Minho reduced to putty in your hands sends a flush of heat to your core. Dangerously lowering your hand, you brush against the V line poking out of his tightening trousers.

He mumbles your name, a rasp to his voice, almost like he's in some kind of pain as he speaks into your mouth. He dips towards you, but instead of kissing you, his lips come to your neck.

You exhale, the air shaking at it leaves your lungs. He moves lower, your free hand coming to back of his neck and playing with his wet hair.

When he reaches your collarbone, your phone starts buzzing again.

Harriet, again.

He pulls away, raising an eyebrow at you as you pull your phone out of the baggy pocket of the gym shorts. "Sorry," you mumble, "I gotta..."

He nods. "Yeah, go ahead."

You inwardly cringe as you pick up the phone.

"Bro, are you alive?" She says the second the line connects.

"Yeah, I'm alive, Harry- I'm home now."

"Great, well I was thinking we can do out project of the Battle of the Somme, or maybe-"

"Wait, I'm, uh, I'm a bit busy- can I call you back?" You definitely have to have that interesting conversation with her, but hopefully you don't have to do it in front of Minho.

"What? Why? Why do you sound like you've ran a marathon? What's going on with you?"

"Look, I'm fine. I'll call you back."

"Wha-" you hang up, taking a deep breath as you lean back against the wall.

Minho chuckles. "We should, uh, probably take things a bit slower."

"Yeah," you clear your throat, "you're probably right."

"So, about that date- you down?"

You smile, nodding. "Yeah, that sounds great."

"Cool. I should probably get your number, huh?"

"Yeah, that would be smart."

You exchange numbers, making some small and slightly awkward small talk when the door opens.

Your Mom, who looks like she's just had the worst day, freezes. Her eyes flickering between you and Minho.

None of you say anything for a good thirty seconds as your mother takes in the scene of her daughter and this random boy dripping in her hallway, both clearly flustered whilst Minho's shirt is still slightly raised.

And where are your pants?

"Hi, Mrs (L/N)," Minho gives an awkward wave to her.

"I can explain." You say.

"I don't want to know," she brushes past you, going further into the house, leaving you be.

Both you and Minho exchange looks before bursting out laughing.

Maybe Minho wasn't joking, but you have a feeling that this specific moment is definitely going to be in the future.

This was actually very fun to write, and I actually got to use my actual science qualifications to use for a change. It's nice to change up things now and then.

I hope you guys enjoyed :))

[paceypeternathanslawyer]

Sophia: This was the first season that James started directing on our show and he got so passionate about it. I remember he was starting to shadow the producers and starting to shadow Paul. When Nathan knocked on Brooke's door, I had this immediate sense memory moment. I had forgotten this until I saw the scene. James went and advocated to the writers that in all the connecting Nathan was doing with Quentin, we were missing the Nathan and Brooke being essentially the same characters in high school. We were missing them connect as grownups about their journey. He pitched that!

Joy: He did? I didn't know that!

Sophia: Yes, he pitched that. He was like, 'I think we're missing an opportunity and with this character having gone through this thing, this violence, I think it's weird that this man who's been in her life all this time who's the only person who knows her journey with toxic parents and whatever, isn't gonna talk to her about it.' And he was right.

Joy: So insightful.

Sophia: It was such a good scene. I remember now, he went and like argued... I mean, not argued, but had this great idea and they loved it and put it in the episode. He was directing before he was even directing. That's a cheat code. Having the confidence as an actor, 6 years into a job, to be like 'hey, if this was my real life with my real friends i've been working with for 6 years, I would immediately go check on this person. Why aren't we doing that on camera?' And they put it in the show! That boy deserves a writing credit.

Joy: Let's talk about that scene though because one of my notes is 'Everyone's acting like Brooke is acting normal' and it's really strange to me and I was so glad to see Nathan walk in and even though he didn't acknowledge flat out "Hey, you're being weird. This is beyond you just fell down the stairs" but he was preserving her pride and privacy and all those things she was clearly wanting to hold onto but also letting her know " Hey, i'm here for you" in a very real and important way beyond a suggestion of therapy, which was nice, but still not noticing what is really going on. Beyond "Here's your apartment key." He just dropped into a level of acknowledging that there was something deeper going on and I appreciated that.

Sophia: I did too and I liked that he was really gentle but he didn't-- like Nathan doesn't let Brooke get away with it. When she says "I'm fine. Really" his response is "That sounds like something i'd say" and then he goes into this whole thing "Yes, we've experienced a loss but it doesn't mean your problems are any less important" and then he reminds her like of their similar roads, their same cliques in high school, their parents who were like children. We were these bad versions of ourselves and look who we've become and I know how hard it is. I don't want you to isolate. I want you to come talk to me. I'm an ally here for you. I think there's something so important, interestingly because Brooke had this terrible relationship with her parents and they haven't been there for her and Nathan has had this terrible relationship with Dan but like Deb is finally showing up for him. He's able to show up for Brooke as the dad he is... Jamie's dad. I felt like he was being my father figure in this scene and it was so kind. Brooke's never had that.

💕💕 Drama Queens 💕💕

[iamyouknow-yours]

Marcel is a Mikaelson. He does not have to call himself a Mikaelson as he is fully within his rights to denounce the very toxic family but he is one.

I hate the way the show treated him, I hate the way the characters treated him, and I hate that he is involved with Rebekah. I hate the way he and Hope are only kinda sorta siblings.

1. The show:

So we know Julie Plec is very much a white liberal. We know this. We know she has sexism issues, we know she has racism issues (black women will save us all, really Julie????). I don't know which of her multitude of biases made her (and the rest of the writers) think that the way they wrote Marcel and the Mikaelson's relationships with him, was normal (or like normal in the context of the show). But boy howdy.

The plantation house. We're just going to have the Mikaelsons move into the house where Marcel was owned as a slave????? That's what we're gonna do?????? And where his abusive biological father lived and y'know, abused him. Fucking what the fuck?? I feel like this just epitomises the way the show treats Marcel.

2. The characters:

The family never treats him as part of the family unless they want something from him.

They did not raise him as a son and it is weird and terrible and he was a child!!!!! Why did you adopt him if you didn't want a child???

Why is Klaus so scared of having Hope if he's already had a child?

Why does Klaus treat Marcel the exact same way Mikael treated him just because they're not blood related?? (if they actually explored this it could have been interesting but no they just only half treat Marcel as a Mikaelson).

YOU'RE TELLING ME THEY DIDN'T CHECK?? THEY DIDN'T CHECK HE WAS DEAD????? Not once in the 80+ years did Klaus or Elijah go back to New Orleans or even send someone to fucking check that his SON was really dead??? Didn't think to do that???? No???

3. Rebekah:

Oh my god what do I even say about Rebekah?

They could have at least made her be daggered for the time when he was a child and only meet him when he was already an adult and a vampire because that way she's only technically his aunt and not a full fucking adult who saw him grow up!!!!!!!!

Hope:

Idk man, they were siblings. Let them be siblings. The whole thing in Legacies where the Mikaelsons just kind of left Hope alone? Weird. Bonkers. Batshit. I know it's because they couldn't get the actors but maybe think about that before writing your fucking show my guy.

Or in TO where Hope was just left alone and Klaus was not there as a dad for like 5(?) years.

Hayley was the only good parent on The Originals or Legacies canon, fight me.

(side note, you're telling me Caroline would leave Alaric, Alaric, an alcoholic, vampire-hating, weirdo (Caroline and Alaric being romantically involved briefly WAS WEIRD GUYS, WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK HE USED TO BE HER FUCKING TEACHER) in charge of the school for supernatural children??

You're telling me she left him in charge of parenting Lizzie and Josie?? Yeah okay sure.

And look how well that turned out. Locking teenagers in goddamn prison worlds, excellent headmastering there Alaric well done. And just swell parenting of the twins. Favouring Hope over them at all times and letting them bully each other weirdly for years and allowing your mentally ill children to just get more mentally ill from your parenting. Great moves. Very good.

Okay Legacies rant over)

Yeah okay my whole rant is over I think.

TL;DR: Marcel deserved better.

(and so did the kids on Legacies.)

Also PSA, the only reason I have so many feelings about this is because I like the freaking shows okay? I like the characters (except Alaric and Damon and the ones we're supposed to dislike like Mikael and Esther).

[isalisewrites]

A ramble on writing where April broke my heart

Hooo boi.

March was a dream in comparison to April.

Emergency gallbladder surgery? Someone faking their death in my server? Good times. I wanna go back.

I have been through much in three short months. April has shown that it's taken a toll. I have missed many more days of writing. I'm still missing them in May. But I'm slowly gripping onto the last vestiges of my raw determination, all while in the face of so much.

I had a falling out with my closest family member that shook me to the core of my heart. I barely slept for most of the month again. Gallbladder surgery has proven to have some complications on my nervous system, making normal daily life difficult where it's hard to sit or lie down without experiencing full body numbness and tingling in various areas, including my hands and fingers. (No, not blood clots. 100% without a doubt it's my nerves.)

If you've followed me here (post one and two) and have read my author's on Terrible, But Great Chapter 30, then you know what went down with my family member. It took so much of my time and energy. I wrote well over 8,000 words trying to reason with this family member, only for all of it to be scorned and mocked. A part of me feels like that energy was wasted. I could have 8,000 more words in TBG, but I don't. This is all I have.

A part of me looks at it and says, "Give it back. Give me back my writing." What happened to January? Or even February? What happened to the girl who could wake up at 4am in the morning, an hour before she had to leave for her hysteroscopy, to power write 700 words?

Some days, I go up the stairs and I'm winded like I ran a marathon.

Some days, if I walk on the treadmill for more than 6 to 10 minutes, I feel like I'm dying.

It's been an uphill battle. The struggle is real, but so am I.

In the last week of December of 2023, when I realized how long it would take me to finish Terrible, But Great, I was overcome with what I call 'The Stirring.' I don't know what else to call it, but it always has an air of mystery and premonition for what it is to come. I thought at that time, "If I had limited time to live, what do I want to do?"

"I want to write."

So, I did.

In 2023, I published a total of 43,000 words in TBG. In 2024, from January to April, I've written 110,604 words and have published 35,000 words thus far. The year isn't even halfway over and I've done better this year than I have last year.

In spite of it all, I'm doing pretty damn good.

There's still hope. I'm not giving up. It might feel like morale is low, but it's not. I'm going to keep going as much as I can through all the hardships because writing is truly the one thing that breathes life into me.

By the end of April, I finished my business class with an essay about how the class shifted my beliefs. This class in combination with all of my health issues and social conflicts sparked an overwhelming revelation and a new rising determination within my soul.

You see, you all have witnessed my love and passion for writing Terrible, But Great, a Harry Potter fanfiction, but I also have original stories that I've wanted to write. Yet, I haven't been able to finish them because I'm always thinking about the market in the real world, instead of what I want and what the story wants. Fanfiction, I can do whatever the hell I want and yall are just gonna have to strap in and hold onto dear life cause it's gonna be a bumpy ride. Original novels, however, are done differently and I've often struggled due to so many factors.

I have ADHD. I am autistic. I have health issues which are rapidly piling up on top of each other. My career choice might not even be feasible for me in the long run, so why I am allowing myself to be pressured into doing more than I can handle with a class load?

I want to write. I want to write. I want to create.

Oh, how I want to create.

So, I will.

Two years ago, I gave up on my dream of writing original novels and earning a living through them. I've since repented of that notion. As I continue write Terrible, But Great, I'm also going to be working on my original novels on the side. Someday, perhaps, I'll be able to earn a living as a published author.

That's my realistic ideal.

I wrote 457 words today, May 9th. That's good enough. The goal this month is to write more than April. I can do that. On the days where prose is hard, I simply write my scene idea in a zero draft style. I don't worry about the prose; I'll fix it later. Every word counts. Every word can be changed. Every word can be made better.

Every word is good enough.

Until next month.

[happypanda101]

How Sakura’s Love Interest Ruined Her Character Development

Alright. I promise this is the last Sakura related content I’ll do for a while. But after seeing several other people on here talk about about this subject, I thought it would be interesting to discuss. This isn’t gonna be a full on analysis, rather my thoughts as someone who loves Sakura and was disappointed to see how her character was handled in canon.

I think a lot of the fandom can be agree that Sakura’s biggest flaw was her love for Sasuke. Love is typically supposed to be a character’s strength, but unfortunately for our pink cherry blossom, it’s her weakness. And her downfall.

Now, I’ve already made it clear what my feelings on SasuSaku are. I like the pairing, they could have been better developed and aren’t nearly terrible as people claim they are. However, it would be ignorant of me to not acknowledge that canon Sasusaku is… kinda shitty.

Don’t get my wrong, they have their cute moments in blank period, like Sasuke asking Sakura to wear the clan crest, but things start going downhill when they get married and the plot of Burrito rolls around. Sakura is left to be a single mother while Sasuke is off god knows where for that stupid space alien/ “remains of Kaguya” whatever plot. Sasuke never writes to check up on his family, it’s implied that Sarada doesn’t remember him at all or what he looks like, and Sakura is left there trying to assure her poor daughter that Sasuke is doing this because he loves them. But when Sasuke comes back, he rarely acknowledges or wants to spend time with them at all. Not to mention, he seems to care more about Naruto’s kid than his own. Naruto suffers from this problem as well, but that’s a discussion for another time.

For the canon endgame, Kishimoto certainly doesn’t write any of his characters being happy in their relationships.

Anyway, Sakura and her character development. It may not have been grand as her teammates, but it was still there. Sakura went from a naive girl that was obsessed with boys and her looks to someone who acknowledged that she had to work harder if she wanted to help and protect those she cared for. She went from disliking and envying Naruto to someone who was willing to throw her ninja career away so her friend could follow his dream. She wanted to help Naruto to bring Sasuke back, but realized she wasn’t strong enough, so she went to Tsuande for help and become a damn good medical ninja as a result. She became more confident in herself and was always there to support her friends. She never needed an epic fight or a tramatic backstory, I would say her development was pretty great.

But then all of that gets thrown away whenever Sasuke comes into the picture. Sakura may be able to stand up for others, but never does she stand up for herself when it comes to Sasuke. When he belittles her in the War Arc for simply asking him what was going on, she gets all quiet and sad. Defeated. Worst part is that Naruto can’t even stand up for her properly.

The kunoichi who broke off Kaguya’s horn and aided in sealing her, therefore saving the world, is left a begging, whimpering mess for Sasuke to come back to her, to come back to team 7. And what does she get in return? A genjustu of him killing her.

And just when you think oh this has to finally get her to realize that she can do so much better than him, or at least get her to step back and reevaluate her feelings, let her spend time away from him, it’s just forgotten about! Forget traumatizing and hurting her, it’s okay because Sasuke apologized and now she wants to go with him. Don’t get me wrong, I do think that was a genuine apology, but the fact that she was just expected to forgive him at the snap of a finger was infuriating. And down right sad.

It doesn’t help that nobody else comments on it, or tells Sakura “hey, what he did was pretty shitty, you didn’t deserve that.” Or stand up for her at all. Kakashi kinda did, but it was so weak.

In Naruto, a woman’s role is to support the men, because what else are they good for? And if they ever move on from a guy they like, they’re a “terrible person,” in Kishimoto’s words. Whatever improved or developed Sakura’s character, it reverted backwards or was simply forgotten for Sasuke. Because Sakura loves him, she can never disagree or argue or fight with him, because that would make her a bad person.

Sakura had the potential to become one of the greatest heroines in anime, but that was all thrown away becasue of her misogynistic creator and his idiotic editors. She deserved better, every female character in Naruto deserved better, and burrito should have never happened because it’s an abomination to the Naruto franchise.