#out of writers block??? FINALLY????

[lexluvswriting]

Hii I love your writing so much!!! I was wondering if we can get some more of Loki and chubby reader. Maybe one where she’s a princess and she’s normally confident but struggling lately because of society standards and stuff? If not, no pressure. I love the way you write for Loki <333

UHM HELLO.

why has this somewhat cured my writer's block...

LIKE,,, I CAN SEE EXACTLY HOW I WANT TO PLAN THIS FIC...

I'VE BEEN SO SO BAD TO YOU GUYS LATELY, BUT I SWEAR ITS NOT YOU, ITS ME.

I've been SOSOSO busy with uni- im not the academic weapon i thought i was (make me an academic victim)

BUT YES!! THIS WILL GO IN MY WIPS ASAP AND I WILL DELIVER IT ASAP !! tysm for dropping in, anon!! you're my first request 🤭 kinda shy ngl.

[apoorhuman]

Levi: *crying and bawling hus eyes out*

Mc: *comforting him*

Lucifer: .... What happened? *raising an eyebrow at the two of you*

Mc: well... Levi-

Levi: HE FUCKING CHEATED ON MEEE *cries harder*

Lucifer: he? I didn't know you have a boyfrien-

Mc: it's not a boyfriend lucifer

Lucifer: then what is it?

Mc: he's Levi gaming buddy, apparently he found a new much more 'good' gaming buddy so he played with the new game buddy while still with Levi, and couple hours earlier Levi just got dumped by him.

Lucifer: ....... Where's mammon? *Levi cries and wails can be heard in the background*

Mc: well as soon as he found out what that demon did he immediately flies to go to they're place

Lucifer: for what?

Mc: .... To kill him

Lucifer: *dialed mammon immediately* mammon do not kill him

Lucifer: no, I said do not kill him, don't drop him yet, we need to torture him first

Lucifer: good, I'll tell Satan that he can have a stress relief toy, yes bring him here

Mc: ... This is why I love them (the brothers) *smiles*

Mc: Levi... Do you want to watch the whole tsl from season one to three?

Levi: *sniff* four?

Mc: ok *smiles* four season, let's go, help me get the popcorn

Levi: *sniff* okay... *little smile*

[dipperscavern]

COMFORT - ROBB STARK

you’re afraid of thunderstorms — unlucky for you, they’re in season. luckily, your childhood friend & lover, robb stark, knows exactly how to comfort you during them.

robb stark x fem!reader (fluff), 2.3k words

“Relax your bow arm. Good.. pull with your back.”

bran huffs, drawing the arrow to his bow. he engages his back, as you tell him, simultaneously taking the strain off his arms. robb stands, arms crossed together, looking down at you and bran as you fix his form. he knows bran shoots worse when being watched, but he can’t help it.

earlier today bran, (the families worst archer) claimed the makeshift target you set up in the woods impossible. robb remembers the sly smile on your face as you then announced that you all would be heading to the wolfswood, and not leaving until bran shot the target.

robb thought it was cute, your determination to help bran. watching you with him made a part of him see the future; the future where you’re the lady of winterfell, belly round with child.

“Easy, now. The arrow goes wherever you’re looking.”

your voice brings robb back to reality as you continue your coaching. he watches as bran focuses on the target, an old piece of wood, strung by rope & hanging from one of the trees in the wolfswood, just outside winterfells’ walls. it sways with the wind, one of brans reasonings for not being able to hit it. you reminded him that as a knight, your targets won’t be still — they’ll move as fast as the wind.

bran focuses on the target, still for now and unaffected by wind, drawing his arrow tight.. about to let it loose-

“Any day now!”

theon’s voice startles all three of you, causing bran to let the arrow loose. it flies, lodging itself just below the bullseye of the target. bran sighs, and you whip your head around to theon and jon, standing a few feet away. they’ve quickly turned around, pretending that a tree in the distance has caught their attention.

“And which one of you was a marksman at ten!?”

you repeating his fathers words has robb looking down, trying to suppress the smile on his face. he huffs out a breath of laughter, making bran look at him, and smile himself. you shake your head at theon, before turning back to bran, wearing slight disappointment on his face. you run your hand through his hair.

“Don’t kick yourself over it. Theon doesn’t know his arse from a hole in the ground.” you put a hand on the small of brans back, turning & beginning to walk back to the horses. robb agrees with you.

“Aye. The first time Theon tried he nearly beheaded father.”

brans satisfied with that answer, giving robb a nod of his head as you three walk back to the others. theon glances over his shoulder, looking at you three, and then the target, swaying in the wind with an arrow near the bottom of it. he turns back, facing jon.

“At least he hit the target this time...”

jon fusses with the horses, pretending not to hear theon. it doesn’t work completely, he still has to bite back his smile as you, robb, and bran approach.

“Theon Greyjoy, everybody,” you say. “The most hilarious man in the seven kingdoms.” theon shrugs.

“The ladies seem to think so. Don’t you?” theon turns to jon, and jon’s half-smile is quick to disappear. it earns theon a smack on the back of the head from robb. theon rubs the back of his head, quick to look at his attacker. robb only smiles.

you take an arrow from brans quiver, pulling it to your bow & notching it. you aim for the swaying target, now much farther away than it was before. robb can barely spot it, the wood blending in with the trees. you release the arrow, and it lands with a thud, right into the bullseye.

you turn to theon, who now has decided that comedy is overrated. you offer him the bow, tilting your head. theon swallows, and opens his mouth to reply when ser rodrick approaches you all.

“The sky tells me a storms comin’, lads. Best to start headin’ back.”

your stomach churns at the mention of a storm, anxiety trying to creep its way up your spine. you wave it off, silently cursing ser rodrick as he saves theon from embarrassment. you usher bran along, and robb and jon share a look before falling in behind you both. theon sighs in relief, silently thanking the gods as he moves to catch up with you all.

theon moves to his horse, standing next to jon’s, and he begins to untie it. jon turns to him with a half-amused smile.

“At least you almost touched the bow this time.”

꧁——————————————————꧂

the rain is loud, wild in its crashing against the castle- drenching the bricks laid so many years ago. only a few small candles are lit in the great hall, and it makes for a somber mood at dinner. various conversation ensues as the rain worsens, & already it makes you restless — unable to sit still. ned’s voice carries across the table.

“The maesters say the storm is only to worsen.”

you internally groan at the thought of a heavier storm, and arya’s face scrunches in confusion. “Don’t they deal with stupid ravens? What do maesters know about storms?

robb is quick to pipe up. “About as much as you know about maesters.”

“‘S not just ravens!” brans little voice joins the chaos.

catelyn sighs at her children’s inability to get along, and you & her share an amusing look at their behavior. theon laughs, while ned and jon both have a small smile on their faces. arya looks for explanation, and ned nods his head towards robb. robb looks at his father, before deciding to have mercy on his sister.

“Maesters know the weather as well as medicine. Who do you think confirms winters’ come and summers ended?”

arya looks at robb with disbelief. “Maester Luwin?”

aryas knowledge of maesters, or lack thereof, has everyone cracking up- you included. it temporarily erases the storm from your mind, and even ned shakes his head with laughter. everyone except for sansa, who doesn’t appreciate her sisters lack of knowledge.

“No, stupid!”

catelyns head turns to sansa. “Sansa, be civil, will you?”

jon shakes his head at arya as she sticks her tongue at sansa. “The archmaesters, little sister.”

you can’t help but laugh yourself at their antics. even so, your stomach churns at the thought of a heavy storm. you’ve never been fond of them, too dark & too angry for your liking, always causing you to lose copious amounts of sleep. winterfells’ walls are strong, you know this, but it doesn’t do much to soothe your nerves — and you suspect you won’t be getting much sleep tonight.

as if the gods can hear you, thunder loudly rumbles overhead. all conversation momentarily pauses at the table, everyone looking up & around them, as if expecting to see the thunder in the room. you pause with them, your breath quickening as a small dose of fear shoots through you. ned, ever the reassure, takes one look at his younger children’s fearful eyes and resumes the role of lord stark.

“Not to worry. Winterfells’ held against greater comings than late summers rain.”

their fathers words have rickon, bran, and arya relieved. smiles are shot their way in an extra coat of reassurance, and everyone returns to their food. almost everyone.

you think you do a good job of hiding it, but robb notices. of course he does. you’ve always tried to hide from him, the same way you do from others, but it’s never worked — he found you long ago. you find yourself under robb’s gaze, and you both share a look. you swallow, gaze dropping down to your food. you think it’ll be a long night indeed.

꧁——————————————————꧂

BOOM

lightning strikes, making you jump- almost dropping the book in your hands. you sigh, bringing a hand to your face to rub the sleep from your eyes.

in truth, even if you wanted to, there’s no way you could sleep in this weather. winterfells library provides for a nice distraction, a chance to catch up on the books you’ve been too busy to read — and a safe space. a small offer of solace during your living nightmare. you’ve never been a deep sleeper, and you’ve never been able to sleep through storms. well- except for one.

it was a small one, light in its rain and even lighter in its thunder. still, it had you on the edge of sleep, only to be yanked back to reality when thunder would rumble overhead.

you sighed, tossing and turning, desperately trying to find rest. you had a heavy day the following morning, and already internally dreaded working through your duties sleep deprived. a knock on your door has you alert, and pushing the blankets off your body to get out of bed. you’re vaguely aware of the sound of fire dimly crackling in the fireplace as you approach the door.

it opens to reveal robb. the sight of you is enough to have the corners of his lips quirk up in a smile.

“Robb?”

“Hey, pretty. Can’t sleep?”

you shake your head, stepping to the side to let him in. he walks in, and you shut the door behind him. that night you slept in robb’s arms. he spoke with you until his voice lulled you to sleep, and the comfort of his arms kept you there — all the way until morning. you remember that night during storms, or the rain you fear will turn into one. you remember it was all okay, and it’ll all be okay again.

selfishly, you start to hope for his presence during storms. robb, ever devoted, never disappoints.

BOOM

the sky loudly rumbles, bringing you out of your head (and your book). you decide on wanting to read something different, getting up from the uncomfortable library chair & moving toward a nearby bookcase.

your gaze is trained on the book in your hands. not looking where you were going, you collide into a wall of muscle. you’d flinch back, but strong arms keep you in place.

“‘S just me.” you quickly look up & are much relieved to see robb. you sigh, lightly thumping the book against robb’s chest in some (?) act of defiance.

“You scared me.”

“I wasn’t tryin’ to.” the way robb looks at you is genuine, his gaze flickering between you and the book you’re carrying. his hand comes to caress your arm, and you subconsciously relax, leaning into his touch.

“What’s all this? Can’t sleep?”

you grumble. “When can I ever?” you don’t mean to be snappy with him, but you’re frustrated. you want to sleep, but you can’t — and the lack of rest catches up with you, no matter how many times you’ve done this dance.

he doesn’t stop looking at you. “When you’re with me.”

you momentarily pause, looking up at him, then sighing, nodding your head in silent agreement.

“C’mon. Y’need sleep.”

you interject, not wanting to leave the sanctuary that had become of the library. “The storm is-“

“Passing.”

you’re stubborn. “My book…”

“My lady.” so is robb.

you groan, silently thankful of robb’s persistence. you turn, sliding your book onto the bookcase next to the both of you. robb offers his hand, but you pause, turning back to him with newfound confidence.

“‘M not afraid.”

“Course not.”

“Truly. I’m not even-“

BOOM!

lightning interrupts your sentence, making you yelp as you (on instinct) jump towards robb. a smile adorns his face as he accepts you with open arms, fighting the urge to laugh. you abandon all pride, clinging to robb as if he can hold off the storm by battling it. he would, if you really wanted him to.

“Okay, um, perhaps-“

“Uh-Huh.” he’s one step ahead, turning you both around & ushering you towards the exit, leaving both your fear & your books behind.

the walk to robb’s room is quiet. your hand on his bicep, letting him lead you through winterfells twist and turns. you grow more tired as time goes on, as if sleep couldn’t get into the library, and is now racing to catch up with you. you’re subconsciously leaning further & further into robb, who notices, but only finds it endearing.

by the time you approach robb’s door, your eyes are closed. fully relying on robb, it’s all you can do to keep walking. your eyes only open when he gently removes you from his side, opening the door & gliding a hand on the small of your back to usher you in the room before him.

you stop in front of the window, looking out as the rain beats against it. thunder rumbles, and you almost take personal offense.

“This storm is out to get me…”

“It would have to get through me first.” once again, at your side, he turns you, directing your path toward the bed. the blankets are warm & inviting, and so are the hands that have taken purchase on your hips.

“Defend my honor.”

robb nods. “To the death.”

once you’re comfortable, wrapped in his arms, he begins to talk. you don’t even need to ask, he just knows. he speaks of the bet with theon he made, bravely proclaiming that bran would hit the target. he did, and theon lost the next game he hunts. he speaks of the servants’ gossip he’s heard around the castle. apparently, arya is the servants’ favorite, and sworn to secrecy. she gets all the earfuls of gossip she wants, as long as it is never repeated. you almost ask how robb found out, but he beats you to it. he was sneaking into the kitchen late at night, then overhearing a few ladies in waiting speaking of their little starkling. you almost laugh, but the tiredness wins.

& the storm has lost. here you sit, curled up with your lover — who has promised that the storm will be at your mercy by morning. you thought you would be death on two legs on the morrow, scraping by until nightfall. but here you stand, bested. sleep comes instead.

[craacked-splatters]

Her champions :))

[unfinished work lol hehe]

[ireallyliketalldarksultrymen]

omg i have an idea!! guys send me things (a pair, a ship, anything) with a prompt to write and i’ll make drabbles for them in the morning

[love-marimo]

just a kaveh drabble bc my head is so full of him… (fem!reader)

(kaveh stops by reader's house after the whole event of interdarshan championship and laments and then they share a sweet and spicy moment~)

"Congratulations." You set your cup of tea on the table to greet Kaveh as he enters your home. He sighs as you take off his red shawl, setting it by the edge of the sofa.

"For someone who seldom leaves the house, you always seem to know everything." He says, placing a kiss on your cheek. He sits down and makes himself comfortable, you also do the same after fetching your cup of tea.

"My place isn't that far from the contest proper. It got crowded pretty easily and everyone was speaking your name in conversation." You smile, rubbing circles on his hands.

Kaveh runs his hand through his hair, brows furrowed. Time and time again he seemed to have so much on his mind.

"What's the matter? Are you not happy about it? With the prize, you can finally move out of Alhaitham's place." You ask.

"I donated it. I also destroyed the diadem because of its curse. I just… ah… sometimes I wish my thoughts don't plague my mind all the time. I wonder if the diadem didn't exist… if there was another trophy for the Interdarshan Championship… maybe things would be different… maybe… my father would still be alive…" He says, resting his head on your shoulder.

The cold summer night's breeze comforted the both of you as you cradled each other in your arms.

"You did your best. At least, in a way, your father can rest easy now. I'm sure he's proud of you." You reply, stroking his hair.

"I… know that. I feel quite relieved that I have people who I can turn to and celebrate with regardless, and that includes you. But still… I guess I'm still dwelling on it."

You turn to look at him and find him with teary eyes and quivering lips.

"Kaveh…" You wipe a stray tear and kiss the corner of his eye.

With bated breath, he finds your lips and kisses them, seeking your comfort and ardor. You kiss back as your hands travel all over his body, seating yourself on his lap.

He pulls back to kiss and suck on the crook of your neck, and you grind yourself on his clothed erection, whispering sweet nothings to his ear, doing all that you can to lull his tears.

"It's okay sweetheart. I'm here for you. I will always be." You hush him in his broken cries for your name.

You position yourself in between his thighs and you unbutton his pants. Kissing the tip, you lick a line on his shaft. He bites the back of his hand, suppressing a moan.

"D-do we really- ah- have to do this?" He asks as you start to suck him off.

"It's okay. Let me take care of you." You reply, giving him a reassuring smile before you resume your ministrations.

Lewd sounds and his saccharine moans echoed in your living room. Kaveh cries in overwhelm, in comfort and relief to have you by his side. He wonders where his loneliness would take him if he had no one, but his thoughts soon fade away as pleasure takes over, his eyes filled with haze and his lips chanting your name over and over again, in gratitude and admiration.

"I- I'm close…!" He whines, and you slow down, letting his load fill your mouth as you swallow every last drop of his cum.

You stand up to sit on him again, cockwarming him as he tastes himself on your lips. He kisses you all over, his soft voice telling you that he loves you again and again.

His cheeks are flushed and there are still stray tears, but you seem to have fulfilled your mission successfully as he smiles at you with lidded eyes.

"I love you. You're the sweetest thing that has ever happened to me."

Kissing his tear stained cheek, again, you reply.

"I know, darling, I know."

ー Lolita

[mondaymelon]

ignore the fact i disappeared that was simple winter hibernation ( still sick and coughing out my lungs btw )

for a basically nonexistent context it’s currently 1:50 am my paper is literally just on my mattress hello hard surface who and this is the most abhorrent lighting and i COOKED (dubious) 🔥🔥🔥‼️🥶🥶🥶🥶🥶🥶🌶️🌶️✨🌶️😋😋🌶️😋😋🥺🥺💖💖✨✨

one of my ocs grgrggrjekslalksj I need to talk about them more on here nyways yeah uhm bye read the tags thanks

[analogwriting]

Star-Crossed

Chapter 15: Sŭrtse

Donquixote Rosinante x gn!reader

word count: 3.5k

a/n: thanks for the lore dump, pops

first|next

Oh man. You haven’t slept that good in ages. You couldn’t remember the last time you slept so soundly. Years, maybe? Since you were a child? Typically when you slept, it wasn’t ever really long enough for you to have too complex of dreams - if any at all. Usually, your past haunted your mind when you slept which is why you struggled with sleeping in the first place.

Lately, you’d only been sleeping so much because all of the emotions you were feeling were knocking you out cold. No dreams accompanied either.

But this time around, you slept well. No tossing or turning, no nightmares. You caught glimpses of dreams, but nothing to really string together to make something coherent. The feelings were all good, though.

When you slowly came to, however, you came face to face with a chest. And, completely forgetting that Corazon had shown up, you jumped, accidentally launched yourself off the bed, and crashing to the ground. You groaned, laying there flat on your back.

You saw Corazon scramble awake, looking over the bed with a face full of concern. “Y/n!” He jumped out of the bed, helping you sit up. “Are you alright? What happened?”

You only grunted in response, taking a moment. Man, your back was going to kill you later, you could already feel it. “I forgot you were here,” you mumbled. “Startled the shit outta me.”

The man frowned. “I’m sorry.”

You snorted, looking at him. “What the hell you apologizing for?” You just grinned, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “You just helped me sleep so well I had completely forgotten what was going on.” You winked, his face turning a bright shade of red as you watched his brain reboot. 

Marco burst into the room. “Aha!” He stopped, blinking. “Oh. Well. That’s not what I thought was going on. I heard a crash and thought you guys were having some wild sex or something.” He shrugged.

You felt your face set itself on fire. “Marco!” You stood up, running after him. He yelped, taking off. You ended up tackling him, quicker than he was and in moments you had him in a headlock. “Why can’t you just mind ya business, ya damn pineapple head!” 

Marco was letting out a strangled laugh, making your grip tighten slightly. “I yield! I yield!” he ground out and you let go of him, leaving him panting on the ground. “C’mon now. It was funny. You would’ve done the same thing to me.” He was sprawled out on the ground, trying to catch his breath.

You snorted, shrugging. “Yeah. That’s true. I definitely would’ve done the same thing.” You paused, looking at him. “Shithead.”

He grinned at you. “Glad to see you’re back in business. It seems like calling Corazon was a good idea,” he mused. 

You furrowed your eyebrows. “You called him?” The man in question was standing at the edge of the hallway, leaning against the wall. “He did. But only after I sent him a million texts asking how you were doing.” He frowned. It was clear he had been worried about you and neither of you had provided him any insight. You started to feel kind of bad for just…going radio silent on him.

Marco sat up, nodding. “That’s true. We were a bit preoccupied with trying to figure out what to do with the staff that suddenly lost their jobs. Sorry, Cora.” The large man shook his head, pouting slightly. “It’s fine, but an answer would’ve been nice.” 

You grinned, standing up and walking over to him. You reached up, taking his face in your hands. He looked at you with a startled expression, quickly turning red. “You’re cute when you pout,” you mused, squishing his cheeks slightly. 

“I am not pouting,” he said as he, in fact, pouted. You just laughed, kissing him softly before pulling away.

“Now, where’s Pops? I have questions for him.” You turned, looking at Marco. 

“Probably in the den doing his breathing treatments.”

You nodded, heading that way.

--

In the den, Pops was relaxing in a large chair with his feet propped up. He held an oxygen mask over his mouth, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths. It was something you had him do for about an hour two or three times a day to help with his ailments. Mostly because the man refused to wear the oxygen tubes. This was the compromise.

He popped open an eye as you walked in with the other two. “Good to see you up and around, kiddo. Even if I did think you were going to tear down my damn house in the process.” He chuckled, setting the mask to the side and turning things off. 

“They used to do that all the time, you know.” He looked at Corazon, who looked frightened that he was being addressed. “The two of them were always fighting and wrestling like that. True siblings at heart, they are.” He laughed loudly, the sound bouncing around the room.

You just rolled your eyes, shaking your head as you plopped onto the couch, pulling Corazon with you. He seemed very stiff and you looked at him. “You don’t have to be so tense. Pops won’t bite.”

“I think you forget that I’ve only ever heard terrifying rumors about him. He was dubbed the strongest man to ever live at one point,” he mumbled to you and you just laughed. “I also had the same reputation, remember?” 

“Yeah, but I didn’t know that when I met you,” he grumbled, his face warming up. A small snort came from you as you patted his thigh. “It’s fine. I’m just giving you shit.”

“It’s good to see you in good spirits, y/n,” Pops mused and you looked over to him. “I was a little worried we wouldn’t get you out of that rut. Seems like we should’ve called your little boyfriend here a lot sooner, hm?” 

Your face immediately went ablaze and you felt Corazon start having a coughing fit next to you, probably choking on air from surprise. Marco laughed and you glared at him while trying to calm down the one next to you. “Well, better late than never, I suppose,” you mused, trying to move on from the topic. “Breathe, Rosinante.” For a moment you were worried he might actually pull something from his little fit but he calmed down quickly after. 

“Don’t scare me like that,” you mumbled. “You really gotta lay off the cigarettes.” You narrowed your eyes at him. His own face was already red; from Pops’ comment or the coughing fit, you weren’t sure. “‘M sorry,” he muttered, pressing himself further into the couch like he was trying to be invisible. 

“Anyway, Pops. There’s something I’d like to ask you.” 

You looked over, seeing that the old man was watching you with a fond look on his face. You couldn’t help but feel your own face warm up. It…somewhat hurt, knowing your father would never look at you like that again. Though, now that you looked back on it, was anything ever genuine? 

“Shoot.”

“I need to know what happened between you and pa-” you cut yourself off. He didn’t deserve his title of ‘dad’ anymore. “Between you and…Anthony.” It felt foreign saying his name in such a way, but that man wasn’t the man you used to know. He was nothing more than a stranger now.

Pops was quiet for a moment. “Were you ever told of the story of how your parents met?” 

You blinked. This isn’t what you asked, but you expect nothing less of Pops. An old man tangent, might as well just go with it. “Not really. I was still too young to really ask questions like that when we lost mamma and Anthony didn’t like talking about her after that anyway.” You shrugged.

The large man nodded slowly, thinking. You wonder what he was planning at this point. “Well, as you know, I’ve known your father a long time. We grew up together, being from allied families and all along with the fact we were the same age. I knew your father better than anyone. He was…much different than he is now. Even him pretending all these years with you wasn’t even your real father.” Your eyes widened. All this time, he couldn’t even pretend to be the man he had used to be? “Then what was he really like?”

Pops thought for a moment, stroking his large mustache as he did so. “Your father was a lot more playful, silly, and overall goofy.” You couldn’t help but glance at Corazon from the corner of your eye before looking back to Pops.

“This also made him very charismatic. Your father could talk his way out of any situation and get anyone to do just about anything for him.” He folded his arms, a fond smile on his face. “Came in handy most of the time, other times it got us into trouble. At our peak, we were unstoppable. We were a force not to be reckoned with. A dynamic duo. Though, it wasn’t as if we sought those titles. We kind of minded our own business and just defended what we had. We weren’t ones to seek more turf or go out of our way to steal other people’s cargo or anything like that. We just did our thing and kicked ass when someone messed with us. It was a pretty good deal we had going.”

You started to wonder where Pops was really going with all this. He seemed all over the place. You supposed that it has been a long time, so he was probably saying what he remembered and filling in the blanks as they came to him. You just kept quiet, letting the old man reminisce. 

“He met your mom in a coffee shop. She had just moved into town, wanting to start fresh. Your dad, the absolute goofball, tripped over something in her store, almost face planting before she caught him. He said it had been love at first sight.” You blinked, glancing at Corazon who glanced back at you. That’s exactly how the two of you had met back up. Well, you had been going to a coffee shop, but all the same. You looked back to Pops.

“However, your father didn’t want to drag your mother into all of this, so he tried not to see her again. As much as he wanted her, he knew she was starting anew and didn’t want to muddy her life. So, he avoided her. Only to meet her again in a park. He was on a jog and someone’s dog had bulldozed him, tripping him and he almost fell until-”

“Mamma.” You were astonished at this point. The second time you had seen Corazon, it was in a park. 

Pops nodded. “Mhm. Your mother. Your father had been a blundering mess but thanked her and ran away essentially. Actually, quite literally. He was breathless because he ran all the way to my place.” The large man laughed, the sound filling the den that all of you sat at. You couldn’t help but think that’s also exactly what you had done. Helped bandage up Corazon before somewhat running away so that no conversation could’ve happened.

“I had tried to tell him to go and ask her out, but he was still on about not wanting to drag her into his lifestyle. He did compromise though. If he had seen her again, he’d ask her out.” He grinned. “Then it happened again. He went to a restaurant, bumping into your mother and almost dropping everything, but she had so expertly caught everything and him as well.”

Again, it was the same as you and Corazon. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, your mind was spinning. How the hell was this possible? You looked at the man next to you who looked just as floored as you were. You reached over, closing his jaw. “Careful, you’ll get lockjaw,” you muttered before turning back to Pops.

“I know what you’re thinking. When Marco told me everything, I couldn’t believe it myself. The stories mirrored each other.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Seems that you and your mother just had similar taste in men.” You felt your face turn red at his comment. Seems like you were more like your mother than you thought. Sure, your father always told you that you were like her but that was because you didn’t like that lifestyle, not much else. At least he didn’t say if you were like her in other ways. The last comparison to your mother he made was being ‘weak’ like she was.

“The parallels are a little uncanny,” you mumbled, running a hand through your hair.

“Anywho, he asked her out the moment that happened. He knew he couldn’t fight Fate and it was obvious that she was at work. They hit it off. I had never seen your father so over the moon and happy with someone. It wasn’t too long after that that they became engaged, then the wedding. I’m sure that was your father’s best day of his life at that point.”

You thought for a moment, thinking back to your father’s words. “But, he said that he never really loved my mother.” You turned your attention back to Pops.

The large man shook his head. “That was a blatant lie. Your father loved your mother. He loved her so much. I could tell in the way he looked at her, the way he acted. He was head over heels. I think that’s a lie he tells himself. That he never loved her and just needed an heir. After all, your father had planned on leaving the family anyway.” 

Your eyes widened. “What?” Your own father planned on leaving?

Pops nodded. “Yep. After the wedding, it was announced that your mother was pregnant with you. Again, I’d never seen him so happy. At this point, your mother still didn’t know about your father’s real work. She still believed him to be a realtor. She was convinced your father would never lie to her. Which, she was right. He didn’t lie to her, except about that.” He thought for a moment, recalling.

“He had said that he wanted to leave the family. That he didn’t want to raise a child in a lifestyle like that. He had grown up in it and it was no place for a kid. At this point, I had been pulling away from the lifestyle myself. I had started settling down and I didn’t want to raise a child in the scene either. We both agreed to leave our families.” You were astonished. You never would’ve guessed and your father had held the same views that you did at one point.

“After you were born, your father was on cloud nine. It was the happiest and most joyous he had ever been. He was more convinced to leave the family. And he was on his way out.” Pops sighed, shaking his head. “He always kept in contact, but mostly minded his business, as he always did. Life was bliss for a few years. He was mostly out of the family business, he had you and her. You and Marco used to play together actually when you were real little. Before the two of you could even remember.”

You looked at Marco, who looked just as surprised. It was clear he’d never heard of this before either. What a lore dump from Pops on this fine day.

“Then there was your mother’s passing. Your father was distraught, as you know.” He paused, thinking. “What…do you remember of your mother?”

You were tense for a moment. Talks of your mother always made you incredibly emotional. “Uh, she was kind and never raised her voice at me. She was always warm too.” You hated that you didn't have many memories of your mother. The few you did have, they were happy. But it's been so long that you weren't sure how much was real and how much was fabricated. 

“Well, that's not wrong. Your mother was one of the sweetest and warmest people I'd ever met. She was patient and kind, always caring about the well-being of others. Sometimes even above her own. She was also incredibly patient, never raising her voice or growing agitated. I don't think there was a bad bone in her body.” There was a fond smile on his face. 

You felt Corazon interlace his fingers with your own. It was at that moment you realized you were crying. Anything involving your mother was instant water works. You sniffled, wiping your tears. “Sorry,” you mumbled. 

“Don't apologize, y/n. It's okay to cry.” Corazon’s voice was soft and comforting. “Seems like you really do take after your mother, though.” You just looked at him, feeling your cheeks heat up. You had always been compared to your father. People had always told you how much you were like him because of how well you fought and how smart you were. They always said you were a mini-him, perfect to take over the family.

“After your mother passed, your father was never the same,” Pops continued, bringing your attention back to him. “All of the light in his life seemed to disappear. Shortly after that, he completely delved into the life again. He took over the family and took you with him. That’s what your father and I ended up fighting about. I tried to make him change his mind, or at least keep you from being in that lifestyle.” 

He sighed, shaking his head. “He yelled at me, telling him that I had no right in telling him how to raise his child. But, it just went against everything that he had wanted. He wanted you out of that life and your father did the exact opposite. He started spewing nonsense. Saying that this had always been his plan. You were only an heir and that he never loved your mother. That it was all an act of some kind. I don’t know if he was trying to convince me or himself.

“I tried a couple more times to talk some sense into him and the last time was when he really tried to fight me. I couldn’t fight my own brother, so I ended up yielding. And I never bothered him again. The Anthony I knew died when your mother did, who he is now…that’s not the man I knew.” 

You just stared at Pops, not knowing what to say. Your head was spinning from all this information. Your father had always been kind, but he was never a goofball like he mentioned. There was always that wall that said he never fully let you in and you knew that, but he was still very fatherly. Now, you had no idea what to think. Was anything he said or felt genuine?

“I think, in the end,” Pops began again. “Your father does care for you. Or at least at one point it did. It’s possible that he has lost himself so much that he’s cut off any ties to anyone.”

Then you realized that you don’t think you told either of them what happened at your father’s estate. “He has another child.” Pops’ eyes widened. “Said he had her just so he could raise the perfect soldier. That I was too weak just like mamma. I could tell by the way they interacted that there was no warmth there.” Your face darkened. He had tried that route with you and when it didn’t work, he used a different method to bring up your half-sister. 

You couldn’t help but feel bad for her. She must’ve grown up in a cold environment.  From the sounds of it, she never knew who her mother was. Just Anthony. Ugh, everything was so fucked up and you didn’t know what to do.

“He purposefully didn’t tell me about her because he said he didn’t want me to convince her to walk away from the business like I did.” You sighed, running a hand through your hair. You hadn’t told anyone all of this yet, mostly because everything had happened so fast and you shut down even faster.

Pops let out a long sigh. “At least he knows that you have power and influence just as he had. You have the same charismatic charm that he did. People just naturally listen to you.”

You puffed out your cheeks, thinking. What were you going to do now? Now, you knew what happened all those years ago. There was a lot of information thrown at you. A lot of information that contradicted what your own father told you, but you were more inclined to believe Pops. After all, he’s never betrayed you in such a way that destroyed your entire life.

next

[tuttle-did-it]

MY COMPUTER JUST ATE OVER 8 HOURS OF WORK ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME

[ghosts-and-blue-sweaters]

Can someone please gently encourage me to write? :’)

[ghostdnfie]

just started writing a dnf getting together fic where george notices a dating app on dreams phone then out of jealousy tries to seduce him in crazy ways. (may or may not include george wearing lingerie inspired by the recent twitter meltdowns from feminine george art lmao.) expected in 3-7 business years /j

[dreaming-of-lu]

Hello!

I really liked one of your works, where First overheard reader talking to themselves and I was wondering if you could make a continuation for it. Thank you:)

A/N: Hiya! Glad to know you liked it! Hope you enjoy this! also a tag to @my-insanity-is-an-artform , come get yer tall glass of water!

First made you feel so many things at once. A truly, kind gentleman that others dreamed of in a significant other. Daring, dashing, a warrior and all. Enough to make anyone tongue-tied, staring up at him with wide eyes as he towered over them. His etiquette made the village girls giggle behind their hands.

First was the textbook definition of what a true hero was. Though, there were some downsides to this. Sometimes, the man was clueless in not understanding that he came off more than he thought. His charisma was a death sentence, a blessing, and a pain, all tied together in a pretty bow.

"He's not good for me, for my health," you muttered, "seriously, him and his blue puppy eyes, what am I thinking?"

You glared into the champagne glass while taking small glances at First, standing beautifully in the middle of a circle of women and men. The lights on the chandelier made him ethereal, drawing your gaze back at him; no matter how much you forced yourself to look away, he always seemed to drag them back onto him.

First was beautiful, there's no denying that; pale blonde wind-swept bangs that begged for your hands to play with, pale eyelashes over icy blues that were powerful and intense with a glance but were so soft whenever they landed on you. Wait, he was looking at you.

"You might wanna go save our dear friend from their clutches," a voice piped up beside you. It sounded distant to your ears cause all you could see was those blues drawing you into its sea.

First gives a shy smile before one of the women in the circle grabs onto his arm, drawing his attention away. A strong emotion came forth, deep from within,

"Hold my glass real quick; I'll be right back," shoving the glass into their hands without looking back as you walked into the circle, gently grabbing First hand.

"First," why did you sound breathless? His eyes went to you, silent appreciation in his eyes that made your skin tingle and your heart pound stronger than ever before. Swallowing thickly, you turned to the circle, silently cheering in your head as they looked at you with vague disgust and upset at your sudden appearance.

'He's not a fucking toy.' You thought bitterly.

"Apologies to you, ladies and gentlemen, but there is something that requires Sir Link's attention at this instant."

Turning on your heel with First hand in yours, you lead him away from the vulture's sight.

"Dear," it sounded so distant with how hard your heart was pounding and the blood rushing through your ears.

'How dare they? Treat him as if he's a trophy, a toy for them to play. Only wanting him for his looks and not understanding the sacrifices he had to make. Damnit, First, you and your smoochable face.'

A rough palm with such gentleness roused you from your ranting thoughts. Worried blues stared into you, peeling back every anger, concern, disgust, and jealousy spinning on its axis to an abrupt halt.

"What about my smoochable face?" 

What?

"Huh?" You blinked as the proud, tall-standing hero shrunk underneath your gaze, reducing into a flustered mess, rubbing the back of his neck and averting your eyesight.

"My apologies, you said my smoochable face, and I-"

"And you what," your voice breathily shrill. The quietness is loud that the sound of a needle could be heard dropping onto the ground.

"I- um, may or may not have," First clears his throat, inhaling deeply, "overheard you from before when you were ranting about me and my face."

First grimaced at the sight of your face.

Oh.

Oh, this was seriously going to be a long conversation.

[guppygiggles]

/////////////

[wildflowergirlie]

may have girlbossed a bit too close to the sun (written more words than I thought I would for a chapter)

[phantatrix]

Her Father's Birthday

[Edgeworth struggles with how to comfort Kay while she’s grieving.]

You can read it on ao3 here!

Tonight had left Edgeworth alarmed.

He didn’t know precisely what time Kay had crawled in through the window, but by the time he had passed the guest bedroom she was already there. That wasn’t what he found alarming. He always kept that particular window unlocked each night knowing she would never announce her visits, ones which he appreciated all the same, even if he never was good at voicing that sentiment properly. Looking into the room, even though her back was towards him, he could see her body shaking from her suppressed sobs.

It was Byrne’s birthday today, he realized silently. How many of his own father’s birthdays had he spent alone crying in bed until the late hours of the night? What should he do now?

What would he have wanted back then?

Unable to answer, he stepped into the room regardless, awkwardly grabbing a blanket that had been haphazardly thrown onto a chair-- courtesy of Kay's previous visit-- and draped it on her. The moment the soft fabric touched her skin, she turned over and enveloped Edgeworth in a tight hug. Her sobs worsened as she awkwardly clung to him for support. Panic welled up within him with each passing second as he stood there frozen in place. Why couldn’t there be someone more qualified to handle this than him?

But, for better or for worse, he was here, and he had to do something, anything. And so, he leaned closer and held her as she cried. Soon, he opted to sit beside her so that she didn’t have to position herself uncomfortably to reach him. His mind drifted to the small girl of 10 who unceremoniously used his cravat as a tissue and to the small boy of 9 who buried his suffocating guilt into a pillow so von Karma wouldn’t hear him, and he wondered if he was doing right by either of them tonight.

When he was certain she was fast asleep, he left the room as silently as he came in. If only he were useful enough to do more for her. He made a mental note that he would have to find some way to either make it up to her or apologize for his inadequacy.

. . .

Back in her room, while Edgeworth would never know it, Kay smiled on her father’s birthday for the first time since she was a child.

[tojiscrack]

um… WOW? 😭 happy birthday to this blog, ig? 🥹 met so many wonderful ppl here so far, past two years have been so good to me cuz of you all :)