#maya musings on writing

[godtiercomplex]

eight years ago leo wrote a soulmark au that i, bad friend that i am, didn't read cuz i didn't want to read hurt/comfort that didn't end up with my ship at the end of it all. i was a brat eight years ago, but i'm reading it now... because...

eight years later he now ships the same ship i was shipping then (that i still do ship) so i have been given authorization to write a fix it fic of his hurt/comfort fic that ends up with the ship i prefer at the end of it

i say all this to say i'm thinking about soulmarks and soulmates and all that drama

what does it mean to know from age 5 that you are fated to be with someone? what kinda pressure does that place on someone?

i don't have the luxury of knowing what it means to meet someone and know without a doubt 'this person was made for me' cuz soulmarks aren't real. but i do have the privilege to have to wake up and make a decision each day of choosing kindness and choosing love and honor and support and etc etc

love is messy, isn't it?

fated love isn't real outside of stories but it's still nice to write about

to yearn for and to focus on

but to actively choose love, to actively pick who to love?

that's also poetry in its own way

[bohemian-rhapsody-in-blue]

Edna St. Vincent Millay: Do you have a favorite poem or one you can recite?

Thank you for the ask! (This was actually a double ask—the first one was here!)

I started answering this a bit ago, saved it in my drafts, and then panicked because I couldn’t find it immediately and I thought Tumblr had deleted it…but nope, it’s right here, just saved under the date it was asked (a few days ago) instead of the date I started to write my answer. So @dragoneye01 has gotten their answer in the form of both this published ask and a series of panicked DMs. That’s the way it goes on this hellsite, I guess.

Edna St. Vincent Millay: Do you have a favorite poem or one you can recite?

I’ll admit my taste in poetry is pretty basic (especially given I’m an English major), but here are a few I really like—and by a few, I mean eight-fucking-teen, because I couldn’t whittle down the list.

Alone - Edgar Allan Poe (when I was 15, lonely, and honestly quite pretentious and overdramatic, this one SPOKE to me)

America - Claude McKay

Antidotes to Fear of Death - Rebecca Elson

Aubade with Burning City - Ocean Vuong

A Bird Came Down the Walk - Emily Dickinson (I’m taking a whole class on her work this coming semester!!)

The Bells - Edgar Allan Poe (this is mainly because I sang a setting of it in 9th-grade choir and it was fun to sing the word “tintinnabulation”. By the way, semi-relevant post here)

A Brave and Startling Truth - Maya Angelou

How Things Work - Gary Soto

I’m Nobody! Who are you? - Emily Dickinson

Jabberwocky - Lewis Carroll (one of my last high school assignments was a presentation about nonsense poetry and how it’s translated, comparing this to the poems of Sukumar Ray in Bengali!)

Mock Orange - Louise Glück

Not an Elegy for Mike Brown - Danez Smith

The Old Astronomer to His Pupil - Sarah Williams (this is the one I often cite as my favorite poem of all time)

Planet of Love - Richard Siken

The Raven - Edgar Allan Poe (duh)

Sonnet 130 - William Shakespeare (my favorite of his sonnets, but not the one I was assigned as a member of my college’s Shakespeare club—that’s Sonnet 11)

To Live in the Borderlands - Gloria Anzaldúa

The Tradition - Jericho Brown (for my first-year writing seminar in college, I wrote a paper comparing this poem to Not an Elegy for Mike Brown, and I wrote some of the ideas of that essay in the tags here)

In terms of reciting poems, I’m pretty bad at committing poems to memory (weirdly, I feel like I’m actually better at memorizing prose). BUT, in fourth grade, I read every Shel Silverstein poetry compilation I could get my hands on, and those kinda stuck in my memory and remain there today, over a decade later. I can’t remember the exact wording of poems I wrote entire papers on, but I can still recite the entirety of Shel Silverstein’s “The Nap Taker” by heart.

[Classic Author Asks]

[pcetstcrtured]

@lcveblossomed asked: “my knuckles were bruised.” ( maya + rogue )

( midnights ( 3 am edition ) )

"Yeah, no shit." Maya responds with a roll of her eyes. "That's what you get for stepping in when I told you I didn't need your help." She sends the other a glare through the mask that carefully protects her identity. "You couldn't have just minded your business? I do this shit every day, I don't need anyone's help." A pause, another glare. "But you X-Men are all the same, huh? Always having to be the fucking hero ..."

[ac1nums-moved]

open to mutuals.

" life's a rollercoaster, but it's the twists and turns that make it exciting. "

[lingeringscars]

spencer & layla and trying to save the people who tried to drag them off a cliff.

[starcchild]

((*coughs* I might've rebooted @museannex to a new separate blog

[writingdotcoffee]

When I'm writing, I write. And then it's as if the muse is convinced that I'm serious and says, 'Okay. Okay. I'll come.'

Maya Angelou

[pelova4president]

🏟️ C’s MASTERLIST 🏟️

DE ORANJE LEEUWINNEN 🦁

☆ Esmee Brugts

that stupid smile of hers I

that stupid smile of her II

☆ Victoria Pelova

relationship launch, socials I

relationship launch, socials II

fuck you, stargirl

☆ Daphne van Domselaar

world cup, socials

☆ Jill Roord x Reader

lovey dovey

LA ROJA 🌹

☆ Aitana Bonmati x Reader

home is where the heart is, socials

☆ Jana Fernandez x Reader

the best view, socials

☆ Salma Paralluelo x Reader

secreta

focus I

focus II

☆ Vicky Lopez

ice ice baby

THE LIONNESSES ☕️

☆ Grace Clinton x Reader

the bestest of friends

wingteam

☆ Lucy Bronze x Reader

almost impossible

☆ Georgia Stanway x Reader

bet on it

☆ Leah Williamson x Reader

the williamsons, socials

magic euros I

magic euros II

the girlfriend scarer

☆ Alessia Russo x Reader

won us the world cup

sneak me in

☆ Maya Le Tissier x Reader

the extrovert to my introvert

☆ Aggie Beever-Jones x Reader

green looks good on you

☆ Lauren Hemp x Reader

to your rescue

BLÅGULT 💌

☆ Fridolina Rölfo x Reader

blind date

DIE NATIONALELF 🎯

☆ Laura Freigang x Sydney Lohmann x Reader

my muses

☆ Sydney Lohmann x Reader

gone soft

THE MATILDAS 🦘

☆ Kyra Cooney-Cross x Reader

pretty fangirl, socials

THE CANUCKS 🍁

☆Jessie Fleming x Reader

why so shy?

THE GIRLS IN GREEN 🍀

☆ Katie McCabe x Reader

mrs. mccard, socials

other

☆ Mapi León x Ingrid Engen x Reader

little soulmates

☆ Mapi León x Ingrid Engen x Fridolina Rölfo x Reader

all eyes on you I

all eyes on you II

shadows are to protect series

☆ Alessia Russo x Putellas!Reader

☆ Victoria Pelova x Putellas!Reader

shadows are to protect I, II, III, IV

disclaimer, english isn’t my first language, i’m dutch so i’m sorry for any grammar mistakes.

I’ll write for almost any female footballer so if you have any requests or ideas, send them in :)

[nerdieforpedro]

WIP Wednesday

It's been a while since I've done one of these. My writing has been all over the place so instead of posting snippets of one fic, I'll post the titles of the fics I'm working on and which character they feature.

I was tagged by @djarins-cyare @for-a-longlongtime and @604to647 most recently I think. 🤔

Honey and Sugarplum with Jack Daniels. Not on Tumblr, I threw it on AO3. Not sure when I'll have it on Tumblr, I need to finish it first.

Weddings 101 with Dieter - with well Dieter and @angelofsmalldeath-codeine 🤣 On Tumblr and AO3. Maya and Dieter’s saga will continue.

Just wanna lova ya, Sugar with Jack Daniels. This one isn't anywhere. It needs a lot more. It was a challenge @fhatbhabiee threw at me.

Coasting through the Rainbow with Javier Pena. On Tumblr and AO3. It's a queer fic that I need to finish that @perotovar and @julesonrecord looked over my bullet points for. I really want to finish this one, I only have half of it written.

Foul Play with Javier Pena. @magpiepills read over this one for me and if she likes it so do I. On AO3 currently, it's a different sort that I haven't written but I enjoy that the OC is devious and Javi is right there with her. 😎 This one is dark adjacent? Or maybe a sexual thriller? Or my attempt at one. lol

Within a Grumpy Spider's Web with Miguel O'Hara. An Oscar Issac character that I haven't written before. On AO3 and I like the push and pull between them, if that's even the right phrasing.

A Safe Place for Us with Dieter Bravo. On Tumblr and AO3. This one is smut with feelings pretty much and there's gonna be baby eventually. 🤗 lol

Fifty-Six Wildflower Lane with Frankie Morales. On AO3 only so far. Once I think of an ending and finish it, then I'll post on Tumblr since it will actually be finished. 😆 This one is dark.

Fire and Fury with Pero Tovar. On Tumblr and AO3. My dragon lady action, enemies to lovers, we're finally getting to sort of lovers now? 😩 This one is dark too.

No One's Good Girl with Qmir. @megamindsecretlair planted this seed a while ago with her own idea. My idea came to me before I went to sleep last night so I scribbled it and told her about it and she hit me with the "are you going to write it?" So now there's lore I've made and we're on this train. It's not anywhere except some bullet points in a notes app. 🫡 This one will likely be dark.

I feel like 10 is a nice even number and plenty to work with. 😂 I have too many ideas and no endings in sight save for a few. I welcome any and all questions or comments about them. I will likely ramble so be prepared. 🤭

NPT: @maggiemayhemnj @soft-persephone @soft-girl-musings @saturn-rings-writes @connectioneverywhere

@lotusbxtch @grogusmum @kewwrites @secretelephanttattoo @inept-the-magnificent

@bitchwitch1981 @iamskyereads @80ssong @din-cognito @huntingingoodwill

@lady-bess @jessthebaker @clawdee @tinytinymenace @syd-djarin

@yorksgirl @handspunyarns @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @trulybetty @chaithetics

@goodwithcheese @alltheglitterandtheroar @i-own-loki @avastrasposts @galaxyedging

@yopossum @kilamonster @rhoorl @musings-of-a-rose @yourcoolauntie

@sin-djarin @schnarfer

[godtiercomplex]

okay i need to like actually work on my kurofai olympics fic tho

[bohemian-rhapsody-in-blue]

Bebop Crew July Challenge, Day 1: Midnight

Thanks to the @bebopcrew community for the prompt list! I’ll be writing fics based on their July 30-Day Challenge all this month (if I can!); I’ll also be posting them to AO3 here!

Fittingly, I wrote most of this around/past midnight—my sleep schedule is so messed up these days that I’m most productive between the hours of 11 PM and 4 AM, so that’s probably when I’ll be getting most of these stories posted. So if you see me posting, for instance, my fic for Day 1 on what’s technically July 2, well…that’s what I have to say for myself.

This fic was also (minorly) influenced by @graysongraysoff’s first fic for Beboptober 2020, “3, 2, 1…Let’s Jam!”

Also, enjoy this rejected first line: “There are many benefits to being a marine biologist bounty hunter….”

As the clock ticked past midnight, Spike and Jet sat on neighboring barstools, keeping a sharp lookout for the bounty head who was rumored to pass through this bar tonight—or from a message from Faye indicating that the bounty head had visited the bar where she was stationed, instead. There had been no sign of the guy for a while, and the only messages from Faye just consisted of her complaints of boredom. (The bar was on a relatively remote asteroid, after all.) The anticipation and the silence—other than the occasional attempt at conversation from Jet or the crack of peanut shells (no drinks for them tonight, or at least minimal drinks; they needed to focus)—gave Spike a lot of time to think about the reasons he’d become a bounty hunter in the first place. The reasons he’d chosen this offbeat, freelance profession to fill this part of his life—such as it was.

Sure, the paychecks were irregular, often scanty, and—more often than the crew would like—nonexistent. And he wasn’t one to pretend that the money didn’t matter, that he was purely in the bounty-hunting business for the love of the job or whatever. And sure, one could go on and on about catching bad guys, keeping them off the streets, bringing justice to the world—and Spike supposed those were advantages too, though he preferred to leave the philosophizing to Jet. And they definitely weren’t the reason he’d picked up the work. Anyway, on nights like these—when he and Jet and Faye were in their element, and he was sure a fat stack of Woolongs was on their way—Spike preferred to focus on the more practical benefits of the job.

Spike knew he’d chafe in some corporate 9-to-5 job, or in retail or customer service, or in any position with set hours and fake smiles and a supervisor breathing down his neck. He’d struggle and squirm as if wearing an ill-fitting jacket. And he couldn’t imagine having to say things like “actionable items” or “let’s circle back” with a straight face. He often griped and complained about the woes of bounty hunting, but he was feeling unusually optimistic tonight, and he had to admit, the freedom that this job afforded him suited him perfectly.

Take the work hours, for instance. Twelve A.M. and he was wide awake, raring for a catch; in twelve hours he’d probably be passed out on the Bebop’s couch. And the job was so unpredictable that in another twelve hours, he might still be asleep. This was the kind of schedule that suited him; he wouldn’t have it any other way.

And to be honest, midnight wasn’t a bad time to be up and working. The sky outside the bar was pitch-black, but the streets hummed with life. As Spike looked around, he saw flickering neon signs, sporadic streetlights, headlights of cars and spacecrafts, and the occasional tiny flame of a lighter filling the darkness. And while he and Jet were quiet, the bar was replete with lively conversation, raucous laughter, and the sounds of games of pool, foosball, and darts, often accompanied by wild cheering. These were technically Spike’s work hours. This bar was sort of his office. The gun resting securely at his side served as his office supplies. What boring corporate job would let him say that?

For another thing, he didn’t have to deal with any stupid dress codes; he never had to memorize the meanings of words like “business casual” or wear the same polo shirt with the same embroidered logo of the same megacorporation as everyone else. He did business dressed up in a suit and tie because he wanted to, and, in his opinion, it looked stylish as hell. (As bonuses, it also allowed him a lot of freedom of movement and was very comfortable, as was evident from the few times Ed had stolen and wrapped herself in it, gleefully flapping the ends of the sleeves.)

Perhaps the best aspect of the job, though, was that every day of it was different. It brought the Bebop crew in contact with such a wide variety of criminals and other strange characters—from senile old chessmasters, to vindictive bombers using teddy bears as their weapons, to homicidal genetically-engineered clowns—that no two people they encountered were ever the same. And if Spike decided a bounty head was too boring, or too much of a small fry, he didn’t have a boss forcing him to take it. (More often, he had an empty bank account and a disapproving look from Jet forcing him to take it—but that was neither here nor there.) Also, the work took Spike and his crewmates pretty much everywhere in the Solar System. He was constantly on the move, never staying in any one place for long. It suited his restless spirit perfectly—and made sure that nothing, or no one, from his past would be able to catch up to him.

“Spike.” Jet’s voice startled him out of his thoughts. “That’s the guy.”

Spike glanced over to where Jet was gesturing, and sure enough, the muscular, grizzled man entering the bar, with a suspiciously gun-shaped bulge under his trenchcoat, matched the description in the criminal records and the picture on Big Shot exactly.

With a grin, Spike rested his hand on his own gun. “Let’s get him.”

Sometimes, when he was in a more brooding mood than tonight, he’d reflect on how his life never felt real. How it felt more like a constant dream he could never wake up from. The ephemeral, meandering nature of bounty-hunting, with its strange and amorphous structure, felt dreamlike sometimes, too. And for someone on the outskirts of society, seeking autonomy—well, he guessed that applied to his whole group of crewmates, in one way or another—it was perfect. As much as he liked to complain about the job, it fit him better than he’d like to admit.

And here he was now, in the dead of night in a random bar on an even more random asteroid, easily dodging the bounty head’s blows and landing his own—without making too much of a scene that attracted the rest of the bar. The fight was over quickly enough that the man didn’t even need to pull out his gun. Just the way Spike liked it. As he threw the final punch that rendered the man unconscious and Jet tied him up, he was completely comfortable. Relaxed. In his element.

There were worse ways to spend a dream.

[russellsppttemplates]

Santa Claus has been (George Russell)

A sneak peek into Christmas in the Russell household

Note: english is not my first language. Before New Year comes around, let me get the holidays is somewhat of an order!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"Do we have all the supplies we need?", George questioned as Arthur set the glue down, "yes, we're ready, daddy! Can you help me make sure I'm writing it correctly, please?", the little boy asked. While Olivia was fine to write on her own, Arthur had started second grade a couple of months before, and sometimes he still had a little slip here and there.

" 'Dear Santa, my name is Olivia Russell, and this year I have been a good girl. I have always helped mummy and daddy around the house, and I only hurt my brother, Arthur, once and it was an accident because I didn't think I was that strong when I threw the ball at him. ' Do you think that's good, daddy?", your daughter wondered, wanting to know her father's opinion.

"That's good, darling. Now you go on to tell him what you'd like to get from him", George praised, turning his attention back to Arthur's letter, "That's good, well done! Just this one here, it's two 's' and not just one", he pointed to the spot in the paper.

"Are you and mummy also writing a letter for Santa?", Olivia asked once she was finished, hands already holding glue and glitter as she bedazzled her letter, "Me and mummy got eachother a gift and that was it, we have everyhting we need already", George said as he kissed both of their heads, "but I do think Santa is bringing something for mummy as well, but it's a secret between me and him, so you guys can't tell her!", he mused.

.

"Do you think he knows we're coming?", Arthur wondered as you walked along the Christmas themed park.

"Of course he does, daddy spoke to him, didn't you?", Olivia reasoned back with her brother, "he told us he knew him because he spoke to him!".

"Does daddy know Santa, hm? I didn't know that!", you looked at your husband, quizzical look as you silently wondered where the kids got the idea.

"Daddy knows a lot of people, don't I?", George urged as they walked, winking at you as you made sure you didn't lose anyone in the sea of people, missing the way Olivia apologetically looked at her father, whispering "sorry, daddy!", as she realised she nearly outed her father's secret.

"The line isn't that long", you commented, seeing three families in front of you, "I have your letters here", you fished them out of your bag, handing them to each kid who held onto them.

"Do you think he'll remember us from last year?", Arthur wondered, "well, you two have grown a lot, maybe he'll have some trouble first", you reasoned, not sure what to say and knowing the kids would ask the person in the red and white costume.

"You guys are next!", a young woman dressed in her elf costume clapped, "do you have your letters ready?", she added.

"Merry Christmas! Oh, look at you! What are your names?", the old man in costume asked as he received them inside his house.

"I'm Arthur", your son said, sitting in the bench as his sister followed, "and I'm Olivia!", your daughter cheered, "and that's mummy Y/N and daddy George!", she introduced. "We wanted to bring Maya and Winston", Arthur explained, "but mummy and daddy said that they could get scared so they stayed home, but they're out family too!".

"Do not worry, my friends, I will make sure I leave something for them when I go by your house, I'm sure they've been good this year too", the man winked, gathering them so they could take a picture and talk a little about what they wanted for Christmas.

.

Leaving things for Santa

"So, we have cookies we baked, a glass of milk if he's thirsty, and then some carrots for the reindeer!", Arthur said, checking if nothing was missing for your visitors.

"Now we have to go to bed, or else Santa won't stop here!", Olivia said, putting a few extra cookies in the plate.

After putting the kids to bed, you and George began to work on your plan. Grabbing the boots, you sprayed them with oil and then dunk the sole in flour, attempting your best to create footsteps, "it's not snowing outside though", George pointed out, wiping the remnants of flour in hopes of making it realistic enough, "Lapland has snow and he still had some on his feet", you shrugged, continuing your task while he filled the stockings and put the big presents under the tree.

Just as you were about to fall asleep, a tiny thought came to your mind, "love?", you called, checking if your husband was still awake.

"Yes?", he acknowledged your call, "I wrapped all of the presents with the same wrapping paper. Which means our presents on the stocking and the presents from Santa Claus are going to be wrapped in the same paper. And we have very observant children!", you hissed.

"We'll just say that Santa's Elves and daddy and mummy have the same taste", George cuddled you, rubbing his lips on your forehead, "sleep, darling, you and I both know we'll need it as much as we can".

You slept for about four, five hours, you guessed until you were woken up by footsteps.

"I heard the door, they're coming here", you groaned into your pillow, feeling George's arm around your waist squeezing you closer to his body, "you're just listening things, darling", he replied.

"Oh yes? Why did you wake up too, then?", you snickered, looking the moonlight peaking through the curtains, "the sun is not even out, George, my goodness", you muttered, snuggling further into your husband as you heard the door open, "Winston can't do that", you grumbled, "neither can Maya", George reasoned with you, making you both groan in unison, "it's the kids".

"Mummy, Daddy", Arthur was the first to speak, "we think Santa has been already, we heard his footsteps on the roof!", Olivia said as she climbed in bed with you, "can we go and see? Please!".

"Don't you guys want to wait a little bit? Warm up in bed with us?", you attempted, hearing the huff from both kids, "we really want to go, mummy, please! We can sleep later!", Olivia reasoned.

Getting up and grabbing a fluffy robe, you and George followed the kids, seeing the grey cat look at you weirdly, "they probably just heard you, Winston, there isn't actually someone else in the house", you petted him as he followed you to the living room, seeing Maya at the corner of your eye who huffed, not understanding why her humans were up that early.

"You can go to sleep, Maya, although they're probably going to start squealing soon", George petted her caramel fur.

"HE HAS BEEN! LOOK, OLIVIA! He ate all the cookies, and the carrot is bitten!", you heard your son excitedly say as he looked for his presents with his sister's help.

"It's your genetics that make them get up this early, I think I'm still asleep", you murmured against your husband's clothed chest, hugging his waist as they unwrapped and gasped at what they got, "my genetics also make them incredibly cute, along with your genetics that make them irresistible, so that's how we do this", George kissed the top of your head.

"Mummy! Santa thought you were a good girl this year, too, look! You have a big present!", Olivia said, "Oh, I'm the best girl, specially for being up at this hour!", you chuckled.

[writing-until-i-drop]

Wildflowers For A Hangman Ch. 12

Summary:

Daisy, a career novelist, moves in with her college best friend Phoenix who has been permanently assigned to Top Gun with Dagger Squad. She finds herself instantly connected with a cocky pilot who's soft only for her and Jake can't help but want to know everything about her. When the past comes knocking at both of their doors, will they stand together or fall apart?

Or: The Dagger Squad can't cook and Jake falls in love with a woman who makes a mean lasagna while they work their personal trauma.

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x writer!femOC | 18+ (eventually) minors dni. Fluff, smut (eventual), idiots in love, past trauma.

A/N: Daisy needs to be alone to get her latest draft done but that leads to an unexpected situation...and confession...

AO3 Link

Previous Chapter

I had checked into a hotel room a week ago to get some writing done, which had been driving Jake crazy. When I was approaching a deadline I took a note out of Maya Angelou’s playbook, except, to a more extreme extent. She would rent a hotel room in her hometown, using it as an office of sorts, removing all distractions while she got her writing done. As a procrastinator who worked at the whims of her muses, I condensed the routine into a sprint. I wrote from 6am to 9pm with nothing in the room to distract myself except for a deck of cards and a thesaurus. 

The reason it was driving Jake crazy was the fact that I wouldn’t tell him which hotel I was at and that I would only text him before 6am and after 9pm. If given the chance, I knew he would have caved by day three and stopped by to see me, which would have derailed the entire process, Jake had begrudgingly agreed to her reasoning of keeping him out of the loop.

Cassandra was closing in on her killer, her and her partner Timothy were standing in front of the apartment door, weapons drawn and ready to go. They were going to do it. Except the scene that was in my head wasn’t the one that ended up on the page, Timothy kicked the door open and the apartment was empty except for a note addressed to her. The killer got away. For now at least. Jason and Grace would be ecstatic that the sequel was perfectly lined up but for me it felt like a blow to the chest. My detectives always got their man by the end of the story. Always. 

I spent close to four hours trying to rewrite the scene in a way that even vaguely made sense but nothing felt right. I glanced at the clock, it was past ten o’clock, Jake was probably ready to file a missing persons report at this point. I chuckled to myself, thinking about how he was. Jake liked to be by my side, even without the looming threat of me running off because of Rudolph Lance, he spent so much time at our apartment that Natasha had joked about charging him rent…which he had shrugged at and asked how much. 

When I pulled my phone out of the room safe I had three missed calls from Jake and Natasha and texts from most of the Daggers telling me to please, please, please call my boyfriend and best friend.

“Baby,” Jake sighed on the other side of the call. “Everything okay?” I giggled, it wasn’t even a full hour past when I was supposed to check-in and Jake sounded like I had been missing for days. “Daisy,” His serious tone cut my laughter short. Something had to be wrong. 

“I’m fine, Jake. What’s going on?” There was a long pause that had my heart rate shooting through the roof. “Baby, what’s wrong?” 

“What hotel are you at?” I started to repeat what I had been telling him all week about the importance of being left alone but he cut me off. “Daisy, I love you and I respect your process but I’m going to need you tell me where the fuck you are.” I flinched, surprised, he had never taken that tone with me before. 

“The Marriott on Sixth and Kewee. What the hell happened?” Jake shouted that I was okay to whoever he was with, probably Natasha. It hit me at that moment that Jake had just said he loved me but the next words out of his mouth ruined the moment.

“There was a big fire at the Marriott on Stiltson, the news said people died.” All the air rushed out of my lungs. All I had told him and Natasha was that I was staying at a Marriott, they must have been so worried. 

“Shit, Jake. I’m so sorry, I’ll come home. I can be there in-” Jake cut me off again,

“Stay put, I’m coming to you.” I plopped down on the bed, chewing on my thumbnail. The hotel was a five minute drive from our apartment, twenty from his. “We’re not doing this again, okay? Somebody needs to know where you’re at, somebody. Even if it’s Amelia for Christ’s sake.”

“Okay, baby, I promise.” Jake exhaled sharply. “I’m in room 108, come in the front doors and go right, I’ll be just a few steps away.” Another exhale, “Unclench your jaw, pretty boy, or you’ll give yourself a headache.” He didn’t say anything but I knew he was listening to me. “Now relax your fingers, you can drive at a speed I don’t want to know about without white knuckling it.” The time the huff had a hint of a chuckle, “You can’t come yell at me then smother me in kisses if you wrap your truck around a palm tree.” 

“I’m not going to yell at you,” He didn’t sound convincing, like he was still mulling it over. We sat in silence while he drove, a few torturous minutes passed by. “I’m here,”

“I really don’t want to know how fast you were going.” Jake sighed, “I’m not going to lecture you, just don’t tell me. I’m going to unlock the door for you.” I crossed the room, flipping the latch so that the door was held open, then I stepped back towards the center of the room. Jake rushed into the room not long later, sweeping me into his arms.

“Hi, baby.” He kissed my temple, hands shaking as he held me. Jake’s whole body was tense around me, showing just how concerned he was. I rubbed his back,

“Let it out, Jake, don’t keep it in.” He pulled away, gripping my face tightly but not harshly. Jake looked wrecked, eyes rimmed red, brow pinched, his jaw tensing and relaxing like he was fighting himself. “I’m right here.” 

“At least last time I knew where you were,” Jake’s tone was harsh. “I knew that you were safe,” I gripped his sides, digging my fingers in. He kissed me fiercely but pulled away before I could respond. “I don’t want to be a controlling boyfriend who tells you what to do, Daisy, but you’ve got to stop doing this to me.” Guilt flooded through me, my grip on him loosening. Jake shook his head tersely, “Please don’t pull away from me.” 

“I’m not pulling away, Jake,” I wrapped my arms around his waist. “I’m right here, tell me what you need.” Jake buried his face in my neck, hugging me tight. “Tell me what you need,” I whispered. “I love you too, Jake Seresin, just tell me what you need.” He didn’t say anything right away, he just held me. With every breath I felt him relax just a little bit more into me until it felt like I was holding all of his weight. “I love you, Jake. Just tell me what you need, I’ll give it to you.” Jake stayed quiet and I found myself filling the gap. “Have you heard of Life360? It’s an app, Harvey and his wife have it, lets them track each other's locations. I just won’t look at the weekly driving report so I won’t see how fast you speed.” 

“You don’t have to,” He kissed the crook of my neck, pulling away just to rest his forehead against mine. “If it makes you uncomfortable.” 

“I don’t mind, Jake,” I kissed him softly, “Not if it gives you peace of mind. Okay?” I slipped my hands under his shirt, resting them on his warm back, pulling him even closer. “Are we okay?”

“I love you, Daisy.” Jake kissed my nose and pulled away, smiling softly at me. “Not exactly how I planned on telling you, it just kind of slipped out.” I giggled, pulling him to lay on the bed with me.

“Well, nothing about this relationship has exactly been normal since the whole ‘FBI showing up at my house’ thing. So, I think it’s fitting.” I sat back on the pillows and Jake laid his head in my lap, I carded my fingers through his hair. “Let’s talk about things, Jake. What do you need?” He looped an arm between my legs, snuggling me like a pillow. 

“Can we get that tracking app? I promise I won’t look at it unless I’m worried.” I rolled my eyes, knowing that if he checked the app every time he was worried about me, it would be constantly open on his phone. The…hypervillegance surrounding my whereabouts on Natasha’s orders had lessened but hadn’t faded away entirely. It was something I had learned about Jake, he cared with his whole heart about all of the people in his life, and with that came a certain level of anxiety. 

“Check it as much as you need to, pretty boy,” I kissed his hair. “What else?” 

“I want to take you home for Thanksgiving, introduce you to my mama,” My fingers paused in his hair, the thought swirling around in my mind. What would meeting Jake’s parents be like? Would they be warm and welcoming or stoic and standoffish? What about his sisters? Would they like her? “Stop thinking so hard, that hamster wheel in your head is starting to smoke.”

“Shut up,” I laughed, my fingers moving in his hair once again. “Yes, I’ll meet your mama, what else?” Jake gently bit my thigh and I tapped him on the head, “Jake, baby, is there anything else you need to feel better?” 

“I’m going to marry you one day,” 

“Okay.” Jake turned to look up at me and I’m sure I had multiple chins at that angle but he was looking at me with nothing but love in his eyes and I couldn’t find it in myself to care.

“Wait, so, asking you to meet my family takes a full minute for you to think about but getting married is an instant yes?” 

X

Daisy tilted her head back against the headboard, a small smile on her face. In the last few hours, my emotions had been wrecked. Going from bored, sitting on the couch listening to Rooster and Phoenix argue about something I wasn’t paying attention to, then worried beyond belief when the news alert popped up on our phones, and then instant relief when her name flashed on caller ID. 

“I’ve never met a boy’s parents before,” 

“One, I’m a man, baby.” Daisy scoffed at me, her hand resting on my chest. “Two, you’ve never met someone’s parents?”

“Jake, I hadn’t even cuddled someone before you,” I couldn’t help the smug smile that grew on my lips. Daisy liked cuddling but she needed the conditions to be just right, apparently I was a “human heater” and she needed a fan to be running, more than one if she wanted to keep her beloved pajama pants on.

“My mama’s going to love you, already does,” I reached up, wrapping my fingers around the duplicate dog tags of mine she wore around her neck to pull her down for a kiss. The angle wasn’t perfect but her lips on mine could never be wrong. “Told her all about your lasagna and the way you’ve been feeding the team. My sisters already love you too, they’re both true crime junkies, apparently they have all of your books.” 

“No way,” She snorted, dissolving into a fit of giggles. Her whole body shook as she laughed and it was a beautiful sight. “I’ll sign them when I come to visit. Did I ever tell you that Grace and Jason spent a week arguing over how my signature should look?” 

“Seriously?” 

“Seriously, I thought I had carpal tunnel by the time we figured it out. Well, I probably do but that’s neither here nor there.” I made a mental note to Google that later, see if there was anything to do to make it better. “What about your pops?” 

“God, he cannot wait to meet you,” I groaned, pulling her down for another kiss. “Pops won’t stop asking about his “new daughter” when I call him. I think my family’s going to propose to you on my behalf.” Daisy laughed but it wasn’t really a joke, my whole family had been calling, texting, even emailing me for information on Daisy and our relationship. Pops had even offered up his parents’ rings for us to use.

“There seem to be a lot of expectations for me to live up to, Jake.” She kissed me one, twice, three times before sitting back up, that same soft smile on her lips. “But I’m telling you now, if you propose to me before we’ve known each other for at least a year, I’m telling you no.” 

“Noted.” 

Taglist: @dizzybee03 @littlezee80 @nervousenemyduck @carolina-on-my-mind03 @mizzzpink @beltzboys2015-blog @writingrose @hookslove1592

Next Chapter

[frickingnerd]

frickingnerd's 3K follower event

for my 3K event, i'm presenting you with 30 tropes / prompts, that i'll be each writing a oneshot for! you are free to request fandoms & character from this list!

those are the tropes / prompts you can pick from:

Artist × Muse (Wakana Gojo)

Bakery (2B)

Ball (Keigo Takami)

Betrayal (James Ironwood)

Bullying (Chie Satonaka)

Coffee Shop (Akihiko Sanada)

Coworkers To Lovers (Kaede Akamatsu)

Damsel In Distress (Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd)

Enemies To Lovers (Klavier Gavin)

Exes To Lovers (Junko Enoshima)

Fairy Tale (Maya Fey)

Fatal Injury (Luka Couffaine)

Flower Shop (Penny Polendina)

Found Family (Phoenix Wright)

Good Girl × Bad Boy (Pyra)

Kidnapped (Aerith Gainsborough)

Mafia (Blake Belladonna)

Mistaken Identity (Goro Akechi)

Partners In Crime (Hubert von Vestra)

Poor × Rich (Byakuya Togami)

Proposal (Claude von Riegan)

Reincarnation (Makoto Yuki)

Rescue (Zack Fair)

Roommates To Lovers (Shoto Todoroki)

Secret Admirer (Trucy Wright)

Slow Burn (Apollo Justice)

Spy × Target (Yomi Hellsmile)

Stalker × Victim (Takaya Sakaki)

There's Only One Bed (Aerith Gainsborough)

Wedding (Shinjiro Aragaki)

everyone is allowed to request one prompt. if a prompt is taken it'll be marked red. if you send in a request, but the prompt ends up taken by someone else, you can send another request, until one of your prompts is taken.

once all spots are taken, i'll start posting the oneshots at the beginning of the next month, which will likely be august or september.

if you have any questions, please ask me under this post, as others might have the same question & it'll help clear things up for everybody! :)

[bbraefairy]

𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐀 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑, megumi fushiguro

WARNINGS - black!reader, f!reader, oral sex, teasing, 18+ characters. for the black girlies but readers of all ethnicities are welcome to enjoy!

a/n - my first time writing in this fandom. sumn for me to get used to, so i started off easy. lmk how u guys like it, & if u want more!

ִ ࣪𖤐༄

“I love when you do this in the morning.” Your soft voice tumbled out of your lips.

Megumi was rough around the edges, tender at the core. The world saw a stoic, bothered man, but with you, Megumi was everything soft and sweet.

You wore a white, french-styled lace bralette, and a thong to match. Your stomach was flat on the white silk linen, one cheek set on the silken pillowcase. Petals of carnations and roses were adorned around your body. Lavender candle, crackling and dripping molten wax on the nightstand.

Just because he wanted to.

The morning was an invitation to become agents of dreams and loving actions. Rays of sunlight doused your room with pools of amber and gold. The gust through the windows gracefully lifted the curtains as a gift of freshness. The sky was a blend of smudged stars, argent, and ivory clouds that flowed across the sky in the form of broken verses.

“I know you do.” Megumi’s hand’s, lathered in thick shea butter, pressed from your lower back, up to your shoulder blades. His fingers splayed firmly as he did so, compressing deep-seated passion into your well-melanated flesh.

Megumi was all for helping you unravel into your feminine and romantic persona. He was aware that the world was misogynistic and dominated by the patriarchy, with little to no concern of minorities— such as black women. He was invested in caring for you, helping you on wash days, buying some of your favorite hair and skin care, reading some of Maya Angelou’s poetry with you. He wasn’t afraid to embrace and delve into your culture.

There was no way he was going to love a woman without embracing her full being. Who she was, where she came from, what she experiences, why she interacts with the world the way she does, how such an epitome can exist at the same time as her. He made it his daily and utmost duty to care for you, even when it was hard to, even when it hurt.

Megumi kneaded his strong hands on the expanse of your shoulders, letting out a breath as he lined your figure with his touch. Hips patterned with marks that showed the capacity of a woman to grow and change. Curves and dips to show that you are a muse, a piece of art not to be reckoned with. Childhood scars, birthmarks, hyperpigmentation.

He loved you in full.

“Your skin, it’s so, so gorgeous.” He watches the butter pave paths of rich oil and glisten on your arms.

You let out a soft noise of delight, “Thank you, Megumi.”

Megumi gathers more of the raw extract and slips his hands down the back of your thighs, going down, then up, right below your behind.

Megumi’s voice, commanding, “Open up a little for me, angel.”

You spread your legs a bit, then Megumi dips his hands between your inner thighs. You contort a bit as his grasp reaches a sensitive cluster of nerves. Then his hands return to the outer thighs, then up the spine again.

Megumi progresses, smoothing his hand over your afro-textured hair that was concealing your face. The curls are gravity-defying and abundant. Your hair stands proud to Megumi’s touch, and he smiles. He always loved how strong-willed your hair appeared, it was just like you.

He peppers delicate, deep and languid kisses on the slope of your neck. Megumi’s lips wander to the terrain of your back. He kissed, sucked there. Dragged his hand on your hip, held the hip in place.

Megumi was following up his hand massage with a series of radiant kisses. Down the spine that bound the body of a plethora of dark and hidden mysteries. His hands ran across the shape of some more of your figure as he continued to press his lips on areas of your body.

You closed your eyes. Listened to his kisses growing hotter as they neared your thighs. Heard the quickening breath he was breathing. Feeling his touch start to lose focus.

It was all happening slowly but surely, but you were going to wait until Megumi said something.

You knew within yourself, you were a cascade of sensations and a symphony of desire.

Way before the shea butter.

There it was.

Urgent, but expected.

He paused.

Whispered. Tone covered in imperfect lust.

“Sweetheart, do me a favor,” The urge was welling up from his depths this time around. This was one of the times you knew there was a second part to the morning routine.

“Bend your back ‘nd let me eat you.”

“I was waiting to hear you say that,” You smiled, getting on all fours, “It’s one of those mornings, isn’t it, babe?”

Megumi sighed as your back formed into an arch, “Think so. We gon’ find out.”

Megumi slipped off the thong, put it aside. Clapped his hand on your ass, squeezed it, making you squeal.

“I’mma eat you out as a starter,” He lines his fingers just above your folds, semi-soaked in arousal. “Pussy’s prettier than the last time I left her.”

Megumi felt the adrenaline ebbing his body as he wiped his tongue on a piece of Heaven between your thighs. Your teeth clench, you brace your body for the cunnilingus.

His oral performance. You were the stage, and he was the show.

Megumi traced detailed circles on your oil-spread lower back and thigh. “Flinchin’ already, angel? I taught you better than that.”

You husked, “Megumi, please don’t tease me. Not this time.”

“There’s never gonna be a time where I don’t tease you, sweet girl.” Megumi gave your umber pussy lips crude, salacious sucks, drawing a whine from you.

Your pussy was like the petals of a flower. Blossoming with an itch only he could scratch. Every interstice and layer was asymmetrical. Seeping with nectar as he paid homage to your special place.

He licked his middle and ring fingers, then dipped them in your essence, feeling the rosé interiors close around him.

There was no pretense, his pulls and pushes were as hot as fire. Raging fire. He gives that coral pink clit, so solitary and vain, the most obscene suckle he could manage. Your composure was wilting. He’s licking, fingering, pulling taut, thrusting deep, making you elementally vulnerable to expanding and contracting. To Megumi, you were sweet succulent fruit and shooting stars.

“Fuck, Megumi— Fuck.” You were slipping up now, the words in your mouth were hoarse. Your legs contract together when you feel his fingers strike a nest of nerves and a deep corner.

Megumi spanned his touch down your shea-buttered back just one more time. He loved the slip. He loved the soothing. He loved the sex.

Megumi laughed as he submerged himself in saturated, vulva flesh. His ultraviolet tongue with dust of gold. “You found your words, princess.”

Megumi knew you always had your guard up, and that you always felt like your emotions had to walk on eggshells. Again, Megumi was always ready to be that place for you to take off the armor, and land and unravel.

Megumi was relentless. Ate some more from those secret lips. Curled his fingers in your honeyed abyss, put his wrist in it. Slapped your ass again ‘cuz he knew you liked it like that. Sweet as fuck— was his sticky, hot whisper. You were craving an orgasm at the core, and were reduced to a lack of self control.

You wondered if your bones should break.

You winced, feeling the rip currents of his desire split through you. “Yes, God, fuck.”

Megumi was a hound of lust, his growls were the lightning and your moans were the thunder.

His hands, slick with shea, dirty with you. He deepens your arch by pressing down on your back. Tongue busy, fingers sodden. “Mhm, that’s my girl. Talk me through it.”

Your mouth, clustered with buttered prose. Your hands twining around the linen. Teeth biting down on the pillow. The tremors make you feel dark and twisted. You’re blending hot curves and mystic chimes of the tongue.

You shrill into the pillow, feeling the chronic ache birth at your spoiled-rotten core, “Megumi! You’re so deep— Oh, God, please.”

He asked, voice grated, "Am I?"

"Yes," You whine, the tension is building pressure inside of your mind. "You are, and I'm on the way."

He knew when it was coming. He watched for your legs to lock like steel. Watched the dark tawny palace between your legs breathe with ready alabaster. Listened to your breath snag with a curse. Observed the convulsion of energy from the zenith of the spine to the nadir of the same.

“Cum for me, angel. I’m a keeper.”

He knew when it was coming. He watched for your legs to lock like steel. Watched the dark tawny palace between your legs breathe with ready alabaster. Listened to your breath snag with a curse. Observed the convulsion of energy from the zenith of the spine to the nadir of the same.

Your chasm drenched and released, flowed with ivory. You dissolve in ripe sounds of delight. You were served to him hot.

There she is, I knew you had it in you, angel, he praises.

You were light and fluffy, he takes your buttery-rich residue, hums when he gets a flavor. Spits between the folds to gather more.

He opens your mouth with his fingers, pushes them down gently.

His brusque instruction. “Suck,” And you do with a soft groan.

His jade eyes contrast with your almond, he deepens his fingers a bit. It makes your stomach crunch

“Atta girl,” Megumi kisses your full lips with care. "Did you enjoy your morning?”

You said, tone ragged from sex. “Yes, I did. Good Lord, can you eat pussy good.”

there it was

the flavor of you still marinating on his tongue

and

the golden threads of light and

the crisp breeze

ruffled amongst the linen and rose petals

lavender candle still sputtering

and creamed, lavish butter

spilled from your sacred canvas

and down your thighs

[ytmanzwhore]

Brock Reynolds Imagine

summary: brock meets his match

warnings: none! cuteness!

sry im on a seal team kick rn and this man needs to get more written about him!!!!!

"Cerberus!" Brock called out as his normally well behaved partner perked up and darted off in the training facility the duo were at. Brock wasn't worried about the dog getting away, as they were enclosed and also surrounded by other K-9's and their handlers. But he was concerned about what had triggered his companion.

"Cerberus, stopp," Brock barked as he ran after the malanois who was loping towards another duo training together at the other side of the facility. Brock's alarm peaked as Cerb's pace picked up. "Heads up!"

Brock watched as the other handler turned his way, saw the projectile coming her way, and immediately took a non threatening stance, even as her partner crouched low in front of her. Brock tried to call Cerb in one more time, before the dog pulled to an abrupt hault in front of the two.

Brock slowed down as well as the got closer, watching as the other dog took a look at Cerb, considered him for a moment before giving his version of a dog smile. The other handler laughed as her dog looked back at her, now seated, clearly wanting to be released to play.

"You mind?" She asked Brock as he walked up, the man shaking his head and watching in intrigue as she released her dog in German and the two dogs immediately began to wrestle happily.

"I'm sorry, he's never done that before," Brock shook his head as he approached her.

"That's ok," the woman offered him a calm smile. "Lincoln is able to handle himself, they would've figure it out."

Brock nodded before reaching out his hand. "Brock Reynolds, this is Cerberus," the two looked at their partners who were now looking at their handlers with innocent eyes.

"Maya," the blonde smiled, taking his hand. "This is Lincoln."

"Are you with the forces?" Brock asked as he looked at Lincoln's vest, trying to find an identifier.

"No, we're with the FBI," Maya nodded at the badge on her hip. "My mentor is an ex-seal, and brought us here early on to train, and the guys let us keep coming."

"I'm sure they do," Brock said without thinking, ignoring the slip of the tongue.

"Can I guess who you're with?" Maya asked with a teasing smile. "It's one of my favorite games."

"Go on, I'll bite," Brock smirked as he pulled a ball from his pocket now that the dogs were both unengaged, throwing it for them.

"Ok, facial hair and not a lick of straight laced, so not army," she mused, tilting her head. "Not quite getting the cockiness of the air force, so I'm going to say Navy."

Brock just tilted his head.

"That's a yes," she grinned. "Now then, you're giving quiet and mysterious. I've seen you in here before, there is an air of mystery around you. So with that, and the training, I'm going to guess, special teams?"

"I can neither confirm nor deny," he clicked his tongue at Cerb who came trotting over. "You guys want to do some drills together?"

After that day, Brock and Maya took the dogs to an outdoor brewery, and ended up together until long after the moon had come up. The two had gone their seperate ways, but not for long, managing to spend enough time together that by the time Brock went on his next deployment, he was getting extra care packages.

"Oh lookie here," Sonny yelled into the group of bravo members as he came from the mail call. "Brocky boy has a big ole package today!"

The boys all wolf whistled as Brock rolled his eyes, catching the package Sonny threw and recognizing Maya's writing on the top. He pried it open with a soft smile as he immediatley saw the amount of dog treats inside.

Linc tried these and loved them, give Cerb a hug a sticky note said on a tub of beef chews. Brock grinned as he pulled out two kong toys, another pack of treats, and a deshedding brush before getting to the human goods. There was two containers of cookies, a new book in the series Maya had gotten Brock hooked on, and an envelope of photos ranging from selfies of Maya and Lincoln, to pictures of the fall foliage in VA Beach, and other bits and bobs.

The Bravo guys watched their teammate suspiciously as he went through his goods, wondering what was going on. "Ok spill," Clay prodded as Cerb came over to sniff the new toys for him.

"What?" Brock looked innocent.

"Who's sending you love packages?" Jason laughed.

"No one," he shrugged, ignoring Trent's evil smirk.

"Her name is Maya," his best friend said proudly, all the guys shouting in success. "She's with the FBI's K9 group, bad ass and so out of his league."

"Out of my league?" Brock gasped in advance as Ray laughed, clapping his shoulder.

"The best ones always are," the other man smiled and shook his head as Brock prepared for the ribbing.

Weeks later, the team finally made their way back home, weary and tired, and ready for some rest. Most of them were ready to see their families, and kids, while others were just looking forward to a real bed.

Brock focused on Cerb as he walked off the aircraft, adjusting his leash as he heard the other guys families begin to sound off about seeing their service members after so long away. Brock instantly keyed in though when he heard a bark, jerking his head up to see the blissful sight of Maya and Lincoln standing on the tarmac waiting for them.

Brock's grin was wide as he dropped Cerb's leash, letting the dog go greet Lincoln while he only had eyes for Maya. The blonde was in jeans and a sweater, her hands clasped as she watched him approach at a clip. At that point, Brock said 'fuck it', jogging toward her and leaning down to scoop her into his arms and spin her around.

Maya's arms were a vice around his shoulder, her head burying in her neck as he felt her heart beat flutter against his chest. He let her down slowly, letting his hands come up to cup her cheeks and pull her lips to his in a rough kiss. Her hands grasped his collar, holding him place for an indecently long kiss that was only interrupted by paws landing on Maya's side.

The couple split apart with a grin, looking at a panting Cerb who was waiting for his greeting. Lincoln was looking similarly at Brock. The two gave the dogs some attention before Brock turned back to her and pulled her into his side, kissing her head.

"Missed you frog man," she murmured as she kissed his cheek before turning to see where the rest of Bravo team was eyeing them, ready to pounce.