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13atoms · 1 month

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Arm in Arm (Count Orlo x tall!female!reader)

Thank you for the people who recommended Orlo for this! Getting back into writing fic after so long off was very difficult and very slow, but this is a first step! Reader is taller than Orlo (>5'8" or something?) and wearing a skirt.

Fluff (very light hurt/comfort) | Oneshot | 1.6k

It was a generous Russian morning, which looked to precede a deeply pleasant day. The whole world was languid and cheery, with a gentle breeze swaying through the summer drapes and sunlight illuminating patches of the rugs which ran through Orlo’s living quarters. The fire was built in its grate, but unlit, and the chaise longues had been moved to let you bathe in the warmth of the sun instead.

There was a great feast being held somewhere which wasn’t the Palace, and the whole place had breathed a sigh of relief as a great convoy of nobles and royals set off to attend it. It was, Orlo decreed, a rare day off. And the two of you were to enjoy it together.

You groaned and stretched out, wary where your legs were draped across Orlo’s lap. There’s a burning behind your eyes as you closed your book over your thumb, and extend both of your arms over your head. Hours of reading had left a tension in every part of you, yet it quickly melted away.

Orlo closed his own book, stretching himself out like a cat with a groan so gratuitous you were sure he’d intended for the sound to make you laugh. He yawned as he set the books aside and hugged your calves to his chest, making you shout out in shock as you were pulled down in your seat.

Laying flat, you looked up at him, felt the gentle stetch through your spine as he kept a hold of your legs. Orlo was smiling lazily, in a way you hadn’t seen him do in months. You flexed your bare feet, felt the muscles of your calves move against his arms, and threw your head back to stare at the ceiling.

It was painted with great skill, depicting a scene you probably ought to distantly recognise from the Bible. You had no inclination to focus on the brushstrokes for that long. Instead, you enjoyed the settling of your back against soft cushions, and the gentle patterns Orlo was tracing on your ankle.

“You’re too long for his sofa,” he mused, finally setting your legs down and letting them hang off the end of the arm.

He was trapped in, slouched under your legs, head lolling against the cushion behind him. Looking down the length of your own body, you only felt contentment. The Count clearly didn’t have anywhere else he’d rather be.

“I’m too tall for the chaise in my apartments too, the furniture-makers ought to be more considerate.”

You had no quarrel with the chaise. Not really. You were enjoying the relaxing, hazy feeling of having your legs above your head.

“I suppose if it just means we have to be closer together.”

“Tragic,” you murmured, looking back at the ceiling.

Orlo snorted a laugh, pulling his glasses from his face and tossing them onto the side table. When you lifted your head to look at him he was rubbing at the indents his glasses left on his nose. You loved seeing him without them, it was something private. Reserved for you. He squirmed with discomfort when you said it, but he was so pretty without them.

“Does it bother you?” he asked suddenly.

You cocked your head, humming a question.

“Height, I mean?”

Entangled together, you had forgotten he was any shorter than you. Now he looked at your legs, side-by-side, as his stretched out in front of him, and you felt a flash of embarrassment.

“I suppose… sometimes I think I’d prefer being shorter. It would be easier.”

Orlo frowned at you for a moment, and then rushed to speak, his words falling over each other.

“No! That’s not what I meant at all!”

His hand was back on your calf. Orlo’s eyes were wide and sincere, flashed with panic where they had been downcast a moment ago.

“I just meant…” he thought for a moment, thumb rubbing across your calf, “I know it’s not… popular to be seen with men shorter than you are.”

You thought for a moment, that uncomfortable sting in your chest completely extinguished by the slight shine of Orlo’s eyes. There’s nothing wrong with you, you wanted to tell him. You saw how Peter looked down at him, how people made jokes. The way being measured for new clothes would put a damper on his whole day. He’s avoided the process entirely for far too long, until he began courting you.

“Do you think there’s anything I’d want to change about you?”

“Wouldn’t you prefer it? For it to be a little more comfortable when we dance? To have someone… more?”

“All we have are the gifts we are given, Orlo. I wouldn’t trade you for anything.”

He struggled to articulate what it was he wanted to say, and you waited, not wishing to put ideas in his head or words in his mouth. His hand found your ankle, and stroked over the delicate bone there. He brought his face to your calf, and mumbled against it as he spoke.

“I just want you to feel protected…”

“I do,” you insisted, quiet and sincere.

For a moment there was silence. You stared back at the ceiling, a maze of richly coloured stories merging into one another. Was that Eve above you, tempted by the serpent? Samson, in the next scene? With long cut locks of hair beside his sleeping face, and the glint of Delilah’s knife against the pillow?

“I’m sorry. You should never have to feel inadequate… I try to slouch. To not make it obvious. I can step further away, if you prefer…”

“I hate when you do that,” he told you plainly, no anger or malice in his voice. “You’ll hurt your back.”

The paused for a while, staring at the carpet.

“You don’t have to change yourself for me either.”

“I know I just feel bad sometimes…”

You thought about him in the moment he thought no one was watching, straining to stand up straighter, rocking on the heels of his shoes, staying seated when Peter walked up behind his desk to speak with him.

“Why would you feel bad?”

“It’s not as though you’re short, Orlo. Lots of women would look fine beside you, I’m just tall. I just know… some men don’t like being the shorter one.”

“I love that you’re taller than me.”

You ignored him. The cut on Adam’s rib was a smear of crimson against delicately painted skin, the paint so fresh it might have been real blood pouring from the ceiling.

“Catherine is tall,” he murmured, “and widely considered one of the most beautiful women in Russia.”

You hummed, and he reached for your hand, pulling it into his lap.

“Probably the second most beautiful,” he teased, and you scoffed at him.

“She’s not that tall. Peter is taller.”

“Peter is far too tall. I often think if he were shorter, he couldn’t get away with as much. He’d be too easy to punch.”

You shushed him, the sound broken by a laugh, and Orlo groaned, hiding his smile against your underskirts.

“I don’t want to make you feel bad about yourself. You have to know, that’s the last thing I want.”

“You don’t.”

He thought for a moment, and tapped his fingers on your skin in the pattern his often drummed into his desk. Finally, he spoke again.

“I love to see how tall you are. I love that I can spot you across a room, that you can do things with such ease. I envy it, sometimes. When I have to rush to keep up with you.”

You groaned as you curled yourself towards him, taking another moment to stretch. That horrid pang in your chest was now absent, replaced with something warm. Your guard was down. The palace was so quiet the outside world might as well not have existed. You indulged your insecurities a little longer, knowing Orlo wouldn’t strike if you showed weakness.

“I always worry that eventually you’ll find someone… easier. Someone shorter.”

“Why would I even be thinking about that, when I’ve got you?”

“A good point.”

It took a great amount of shuffling to lie next to him on the chaise, but it was worth it, to be beside his warm body. He pulled one of your legs over him, offered his bicep as a pillow. His dark, warm eyes staring into yours still gave you butterflies.

“If our heights bother other people, that is their problem. I’ve never known someone who understands me so well,” he murmured, “even if you take up far more of the bed than you ought to.”

“You’ve never complained about me being in your bed. You cling to me –”

“Yes, I understand. I’m teasing you, my love. I want you to take up every bed I ever sleep in.”

“I wish you saw yourself how I see you, Orlo. You’d never feel like you needed to be taller again – you’re the only person I pay attention to in any room.”

“How funny, I feel completely the same.”

You would concede, months later, when the bloodshed had ended and Orlo’s quarters grew far too big for one man, that he had been right to have a longer chaise long made. And when he crushed himself into you after long, arduous nights, his face pressed to your neck, you would both be grateful you could shelter him from the world – even for the shortest moment.

“Do you want to go out today?” he asked, when his arm was going numb from cushioning your head and the sun was high in the sky.

“Perhaps just for some air?”

“That would be nice.”

Your elbows didn’t really fit with one another, formally walking arm-in-arm as many other couples did – though you didn’t feel sorry for it. Instead you took a turn of the gardens hand-in-hand, head held high, all the closer for it.

#count orlo #13atoms #count orlo x reader #orlo x reader #the great fic #fic #orlo #ngl this was harder than i thought and im not very secure in it! so likes comments rbs etc.#very very much appreciated #not really got the fic bug atm but we'll see! i enjoyed doing this again

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violetflowerswrites · 7 months

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My Love

Catherine the Great x Leo Voronsky

Summary: Catherine vents out her frustrations about the Russian nobility on her lover, Leo. Pure smut, very little plot, no spoilers. Season 1 of The Great.

Disclaimer: gratuitous swearing, many many F bombs, very crude sexual humor, cannon jokes about beastiality, excessive drinking, consensual oral sex (male and female receiving), p in v sex

Word Count: 1.8k

Author’s Note: I’m a huge fan of historical fiction—the satire and sarcasm in this show is totally my vibe. But I also love how intimate it can get! I love Leo and Catherine and literally cried after I finished season one. Enjoy!

…

“Fucking idiots!”

Catherine the (not yet) Great storms into Leo’s apartment. The light blue fabric of her heavy skirts almost snags the corner of an armchair as she angrily sweeps by.

Leo leans back on a lounge chaise, sketchbook in hand. He wordlessly lifts up a clear glass of vodka that Catherine immediately snatches out of his hand in her tirade about the room.

She gulps the drink in one go and blindly throws the glass in the direction of the tree in the corner of Leo’s quarters. It shatters with a delicate crackle of broken glass.

“I am not a pretty, empty headed jewel for them to jape at as they please. I am a force to be reckoned with!” Catherine shouts, her cheeks and eyes alike inflamed with indignation.

“Shall I propose a toast?” Leo has already produced another glass to replace the one she destroyed.

“You may.” Catherine flops down with an audible exhale of air, still seething in frustration.

“Fuck the court.”

“HAH! Fuck the court indeed.”

They raise their glasses and clink them before unceremoniously shooting back the hard liquor.

“Huzzah!” Catherine shouts sarcastically.

Leo continues sketching a cartoon of Catherine with a large speech bubble that says “Fuck the court!” A quiet giggle escapes his soft lips.

“And what, pray tell, amuses my dear lover?” She settles into the soft cushions of her armchair, the drink and the exertion from her rant relaxing her long, graceful limbs.

“I was just thinking about how you used to be terrified of swearing, thinking us Russians a crude and improper people—which we are, mind you—and yet…”

“And yet here I am, a true Russian, swearing in every sentence I utter.”

“Fuck.”

“Fuck indeed.”

Leo then shows Catherine his cartoon and they dissolve in a fit of giggles.

“You get it now, my love. The world we live in is absolutely fucked so why not laugh a little. I don’t like to see you so upset. Although I have to admit, it does make me wonder…”

“About what?”

“I wonder if you would like to take your frustration out on me? Sexually?” Leo grins at Catherine, eyes twinkling through his mess of dark curls.

“You’re a naughty boy!” She gasps, blushing. The rosyness of her cheeks contrasts prettily with her ivory skin.

“Ooo do tell me more,” Leo winks and offers a hand.

Catherine takes it, and kisses his olive-skinned knuckles.

“My Lord.”

“Empress.”

“Are you inviting me to your bed?”

“No.”

“No?”

“I am inviting you to fuck me, Empress.”

Catherine barks out an unladylike laugh and covers her mouth in surprise at the ugly sound. It makes Leo look at her in amusement all the more.

She clears her throat to recover. “I accept your invitation.” Catherine bends down in a formal curtsy. “Undress me.”

Leo proceeds to undo the laces of the empress’ dress, gently pulling apart the ribbons at the back. He presses his soft lips to the back of her neck, sending a slight shiver down her spine, before turning Catherine around to unbutton the frock. Her breath quickens as Leo’s mere proximity to her milky white bosom makes her skin flush an aroused pink, a phenomenon that does not go unnoticed.

“Empress?” Leo whispers against her chest, his eyes glued to his lover’s beautiful body.

“Yes?” She responds breathlessly.

“Do I have permission to touch you?”

“If you do not touch me this instant, I may have to go to the stables and fuck a horse like all those fools think I did.”

“Then I shall be quite jealous of the noble steed you deem worthy of your pussy.”

The two of them share a wry smile at the ridiculousness of their conversation. But, the moment Leo’s lips press hot, tender kisses to her chest, Catherine’s expression morphs into a pleased moan of desire.

His affections continue across her supple skin as he pulls apart her clothing, revealing her gorgeous feminine form to him once again. Somehow, Catherine’s hands have already removed his tunic and they are now exploring every inch of his handsome chest. She runs her fingers down his curly chest hair, leaving behind the slightest of tingles everywhere she moves. Leo’s breath quickly comes in pants as her touch alights his skin, and his heart, and of course, his cock, on fire.

“Shall we try something?” Leo suggests, an amused smirk barely hiding just how aroused he is.

“What’s that?”

“Come here,” Leo gestures for Catherine to get on top of him as he lies on the bed, and she does, quickly pressing kisses to his soft lips. “Now, turn around.”

“What?”

“Let me taste your pussy, and you can lick my cock. A win-win, don’t you think?”

“Leo, that's quite—oh!” Her sentence is cut off with a gasp, followed by a pleasured groan. Her lover's mouth is now planted firmly inside her pink folds. His chin glistens with her slickness in seconds.

“You were saying, my love?” Leo lifts his head out of her cunt with a wet noise. Catherine slowly loosens her hold on the sheets that she didn’t even know she was gripping with white knuckles.

“Never mind. You may continue.” She acquiesces quickly, her gaze now locked onto the bouncing cock before her. She has only sucked him a few times, thinking it not much to look at, much less taste, but she felt it is only fair that he gets what he’s giving.

So, Catherine widens her jaw and attempts to swallow the thick log down her gullet.

And proceeds to gag immediately.

Leo pauses at once and calls out, “Are you alright?”

“Yes, do not worry!” Her voice betrays some embarrassment.

Leo realizes that she’s trying so hard to please him and it makes his heart melt in love for her all the more. “You don’t have to—“

“Stop. I want to. Just let me try at my own pace.”

Catherine ducks her head down, lips pressing kisses to the pink tip of his cock, the engorged shaft and its criss cross of veins, the heavy ballsack dangling underneath.

Men are truly an odd creature, what with this uncomfortable thing dangling about in their trousers.

Another moan rips her out of her musings, her mind forgetting for a moment that Leo is eating out her pussy as if it is a delicious piece of fruit, perhaps his favorite peaches.

So she relaxes herself and tries again, slowly accepting his length into her mouth, her tongue lapping up the underside of the shaft. A strong, salty smell fills her nostrils as she inhales, trying to suppress her gag reflex.

She hears a guttural groan escape her lover's lips, somewhat muffled by her soft core, but clearly a sound of pleasure nonetheless. Encouraged, she proceeds to suck his cock in more, her cheeks hollowing out as she adds pressure on his member.

Leo gasps and groans underneath her, his hips thrusting upward automatically, chasing his high. In response, Catherine spreads her thighs and settles on top of Leo’s face even more, letting his hot breath tickle her most intimate regions, and his tongue appreciatively pries apart the petals of her pussy.

And then, he finds her pearl.

In seconds, Catherine releases his cock and comes with a scream, her eyes screwed shut and her hands clawing at the bedspread. Her breath comes in messy gasps as her body shudders with the aftershocks of orgasm.

Leo calmly sits up as she crumples into a spent heap on the mattress.

“Well, that was nice.” He quips nonchalantly.

“More.” The word barely audible through her heady pants.

“What was that?” Leo smiles, his own breath unsteady, betraying how aroused he is behind his causal grin.

“I need more.” Catherine locks eyes with him fiercely, like a lioness staring down her prey.

“Of course.”

Catherine climbs atop his lap, his still erect cock pressed against her soft belly, and she devours her lover’s mouth ferociously. They exchange tongue and saliva and breath in a duel of passion, their lips interlocking as if they could never kiss each other again.

Catherine breaks for air first, her tender breasts rising and falling rapidly. Leo seizes the opportunity to suck her sensitive pink nipples into his hot mouth, eliciting a shout from her lips.

“Oh god—!”

“God should probably turn his eyes away right now, don’t you think?”

“Leo—mmph!— you never stop joking, do you?”

“I’m just here for the ride,” he laughs and Catherine joins him, her voice ringing across the room.

“Shall I, then?”

“With what?”

“Ride you.”

“If it pleases you, Empress.”

Catherine squeals with unbridled enthusiasm and quickly aims Leo’s cock straight for her pussy. She smiles into another kiss at the same time she sinks onto his length.

“Mmph!”

Leo’s moan is swallowed by her lips, just as her cunt swallows his cock. Her sunlight blonde hair cascades in waves around their faces, as if a private curtain hides the two of them from the harsh reality of the world around them. Her warm, wet inner walls squeeze him as he grips the flesh of her hips in ecstasy. In response, Catherine locks her hands behind his neck and into his dark curls and starts to bounce her plush ass onto his lap.

“Oh! Oh! Yes!” Her voice comes out in high-pitched yelps that can surely be heard by the guards standing outside their doors.

To his credit, Leo is no quiet lover either. His relentless groans reveal just how much he enjoys being ridden by the Empress of Russia.

She pauses to catch her breath, rolling so that her clit rubs against his hard body. Leo marvels at her shameless chase of carnal joy, and quickly sucks his fingers wet and finds her sensitive nub between their connected bodies.

“Leo!” Catherine grits out his name and catches his hand, her fingernails digging into his wrist. His mind goes wild with equal parts pleasure and pain and he doubles down, rubbing even faster.

He thrusts upward to match her eager rhythm, which only serves to make Catherine scream louder.

“Fuck!”

“Yes, my love! Give it to me!” Leo encourages, his girth stretching her deliciously. She can feel him bottoming out, his length completely disappearing inside her with every bounce.

“Ohhhhh!” A particularly violent push elicits a long moan from the empress, her orgasm apparent to her lover underneath her. He can feel the throbbing of her cunt squeezing his cock, and he cums inside with an equally long exclamation.

Completely spent, they both roll onto their sides, facing one another with silken sheets covering their sweat-soaked, heat-driven bodies.

She sighs contentedly, her face adoringly searching his.

“I do love it when you call me that.”

“Hmm?”

“Empress.”

“That is who you are, is it not?”

“Indeed. But perhaps I like it more when you call me something else.”

“And what’s that?”

“ ‘my love’ “

Leo melts instantly and presses a soft kiss to her lips.

“My love. I’ll follow you forever.”

“Even if I make a fool of myself?”

“Oh, especially then.” Leo smiles with good humor, and quickly adds on, “my love.”

“I love you.” Catherine whispers, her gaze soft and pure with emotion.

Leo simply kisses her forehead and holds her tightly to the warmth of his beating heart. A heart that beats only for his love.

…

#the great #Catherine the Great #Catherine x Leo #the great fic #the great smut #the great imagines #Catherine the Great fic #Catherine the Great smut #Leo #Leo Voronsky

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cozymodeonpoint · 3 months

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senshi fans: learning how to make nutritious meals for themselves

laios fans: down bad

marcille fans: lesbianism

chilchuck fans: putting that man in situations

#this is what I've observed over the past few weeks #it's great #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #senshi #laois touden #marcille donato #chilchuck #2000+ notes later and I'm starting to think i read y'all to filth #with exception to senshi fans also being down for him #update at 9000 notes: you can like laois for autism reasons and still be down bad #some of y'all in the tags and fics are down bad for laois in mental way #like you want him to be real so you can do brain crazy with him do you understand

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movedtodykedvonte · 10 months

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*Spidey and the Sinister Six having their usual fight*

Doc Ock, landing a hit: You’re getting slow Spider-Man! Age finally catching up to you?

Spider-Man: You wish! I haven’t even hit my 30s! From those costumes I can already tell I failed to save you guys from those midlife crises! Sorry by the way.

Vulture: Watch it wallcr- wait… Did you just say your not in your thirties yet?

Spider-Man: Surprised that this spiders so young and spry? Well-

Electro: Dude I’ve been fighting you for at least 5 fucking years! How old even are you?

Shocker, joking cause he’s the only one who picked up no grown adult acts likes Spidey: Don’t swear in-front of the boy you don’t want him to pick it up.

Rhino: Christ! You’re tellin me I almost crushed some 12-year-olds skull all those years ago?

Spider-Man, regretting his quipping: I was not that young! Like just starting freshman year but-

Sandman, horrified as he’s the only one with a kid and dad instincts(as of my iteration): I could’ve killed a kid…

Shocker, genuinely curious: Are you even old enough to drink? Cruel to kill a man who ain’t had his first drink yet.

Electro: Please tell us you’re at least over 25 as of this fight. Hell, I’ll take over 21!

Spider-Man:….

Sandman, realizing just how young he really is: Oh my god.

Spider-Man: My birthday’s coming up soon so I guess it counts?

Doc Ock, exacerbated: It. Does. Not!

Vulture: What would your mother think if she knew her son was out here risking his life telling poorly constructed jokes?

Spider-Man, offended cause it quips slap: 1. My jokes are great 2. She and my dad are dead so-

Sandman, hysterical cause holy shit he almost killed a kid orphan: OH MY GOD!

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mygeekcorner · 7 months

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You know those "write badly!" posts that sometimes makes the rounds to encourage all you lovely writers that it's okay that not everything is a masterpiece?

Yeah, those.

I just want all you authors out there not feeling good enough to know that i just decided to reread one of the worst fics I've ever read. Because it's one of the best fics I've ever read.

The plot is simplistic at best. The language is horrible. The pacing is nowhere to be found behind all the "and then!!!" the author peppers their writing like a carbonara with.

But

The characters. The insights into their motivations is fucking master thesis level. I cry just thinking about the way the author predicted where canon was headed years ago. And the way they Preemptively fixed all the ooc-ness the mangaka is now struggling to wrap up.

It's been living in my head rent-free for years and i wouldn't want it any other way. Just with slightly less "and then!!"

So yes, write badly.

In three years time some sucker will come back for seconds because they loved it for all the things you Did manage to do right.

#writing #writeblr #fanfiction #it frustrates me that this is literally the worst written fic I've ever finished #but it's also in my top 3 for that ship #just goes to show greatness doesn't have to be good

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ghostbsuter · 8 months

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There was a teen in the cave.

A teen no one knows and looks like he could be a wayne, stands in the cave.

"Actually, I'm a wayne." He says with a shrug.

Bruce, Batman, carefully thinks of the implication.

"Not yet," The teen, Danny, doesn't say anything. Simple smiles. "You're not a wayne, yet. You will be. But not yet."

Then Bruce sighs, dropping the batman mask in order to take in the teen.

"Does future me know of the time travel?"

Dannys smile grows into a grin, deciding to take pity on the man. "You, grandbat, have..." He makes a vague gesture. "Theories, which none of your children ever confirmed."

The bat's mind short-circuits at the choice of words

Dick is sputtering incomprehensibly, there are Baffled expression all around.

Because.

Because that child isn't Bruce's, but one of theirs.

"Who is it?" Jason demands, hand clenching his gun uselessly.

Danny continues to smile, a hint of mischief now peeking out.

The cave is filled with theories, some yell, some sob, yet all eyes leave danny.

All but one pair.

She had known the moment his body language switched just enough for her to read.

She had known the moment he disappeared before the clan.

Had known when his hand found hers, shoulders bumping.

Her heart clenches, throat dry and memories of her childhood flooding to mind.

So she asks, voice soft and hesitant.

"Am I a good mother?"

And danny looks up at cass, adoration and pride laid out plain for her to see and accept.

"You're the best."

And so they both watch the clan together, silent and comfortable.

(Cass doesn't question when she finds him, how and why. All she knows is that she's more attentive when out on patrol, looking and waiting.)

(This is how Cassandra Cain-Wayne returns one night from patrol, a child, barely out of toddler stage and clinging to her form.)

(This is how the Batclan officially meets one Daniel James Cain-Wayne, freshly washed and clothed, a cookie in hand and hiding shyly behind Cass.)

(When they meet, all they say is "Welcome home, danny," and "Good to see you again.", Danny doesn't necessarily get it, but that's okay. Maybe his new mom will explain it one day when he's bigger.)

#dcxdp #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #fic prompt #writing prompt #dc x dp prompt #cassandra cain is dannys mom #time travel shenanigans lead to conspiracy theories #half of the batclan think jason is the dad #or dick #damian and tim are outruled just bc age and tim denying it with no one protesting #alfred knows #danny moves like cass #he gave them both a cookie in the shadows #danny won him over by calling him great grand bat #he tells him of all the mischief they got up to bc no one would believe the baby had alfie wrapped around his finger like that #theyre just in denial #theyre all wrapped around the finger #danny “i mastered how to wrpaonize my cuteness” cain-wayne

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ao3-crack · 7 months

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(x)

#archive of our own #ao3 stuff #ao3 quotes #archive of our own quotes #fanfic #fanfic quotes #funny #ao3 #ao3 tags #every bird is gay in this fic #i don’t even have anything to say #this is already great #what could I possible have to add #also don’t look too closely at my spelling #it’s 2:30 am #and autocorrect is doing some heavy fucking lifting rn

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soosoosoup · 15 days

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John Dory and Branch

#dreamworks trolls #trolls #trolls branch #trolls john dory #never too big for your biggest bro #I like to imagine that they can find solace in eachother about some things that others might not fully understand/connect with.#like loss or regrets #got some headcanons about these two #nothing too dramtic really lol #this piece is fueled by some overanalyzing and great fics #uh hopefully this isn't too ooc in drama #here's the other piece!#trolls fanart #excuse the messiness #my art <3

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noodles-and-tea · 2 months

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🌸

#from a fic :(((#great trope cmon you guys #my art #bbc Merlin #Merlin #arthur pendragon #merthur #EDIT : the fic is called Onfindan by astolat on ao3 ;)

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writeouswriter · 16 days

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People sorting ao3 solely by stats and only clicking on fics with a certain amount of kudos or comments, you will not survive the winter, nor the summer, nor at all, *brings out knife,* run

#ao3 #fanfiction #because if everyone thinks like that then so many fics that might be great get buried and fall into the void #someone has to read it with no hits or kudos #not to mention sometimes people just have wildly different tastes so you don't know unless you look at it yourself #i put a bunch of exclusion filters and then go by summary and tags and open all the ones that sound interesting to me #if they're bad well easy enough to move on #but lotta good ones hidden in there with not a comment in sight and i must change that #knife tw #?#tw knife mention

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keferon · 2 months

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Yeah haha I finished the fic~

#transformers #maccadam #mtmte #lost light #drift #tf drift #ratchet #tf ratchet #dratchet #great fic #a lot of words #ahahah #fic fanart

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violetflowerswrites · 7 months

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Finally posted a fic a wrote a while back for Catherine the Great!

Some excellent gifs that didn’t make it in but make my heart go 🥹

And a favorite:

#the great #the great smut #the great imagines #the great fic #catherine the great #leo voronsky #the great gifs #catherine x leo

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judasofsuburbia · 10 months

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“what? hello?” steve mumbled sleepily into the phone.

“i’m going insane,” eddie nearly shouts.

steve sits up in his bed and scrubs his hand over his face. “woah woah, eds, what’s goin on?”

a high pitched wail is heard in the background and eddie is immediately cooing and shushing. steve presses the phone tighter to his ear.

“eds. eds, can you hear me?”

“i’m going insane i’m going insane i’m going insane,” eddie breathes. “she won’t stop crying steve she’s been crying for two hours—fuck, three hours. i don’t know what to do. i don’t know what to do steve.”

“who’s crying?” steve asks.

“my cousin. or my niece, maybe? i don’t know how it works. my cousin’s baby is here and she won’t stop crying.”

more crying and wailing is heard. steve has to hold the phone away from his ear when eddie gets closer to her. he can hear eddie pleading with her, trying to comfort her, to no avail.

“i need help,” eddie says. “i need help, please.”

“uh, okay. okay,” steve replies as he rolls out of bed and stumbles around his room in the dark to find some pants and shoes. “i can be there in ten.”

“make it five,” eddie nearly whines, anxiety pouring through the receiver.

“got it.”

steve’s tires screech into eddie’s driveway. his trailer is the only one with the lights still on and he could hear the baby crying from outside. he’s surprised no one has called to complain to the police station. though he’s sure callahan or hopper would simply hang up.

steve barrels up the steps and opens the door to utter chaos. toys and books scatter the ground, there are blankets and bottles strewn over surfaces (some definitely knocked over and spilling onto the floor), and baby clothes and diapers in the leftover spaces. and of course, a screaming infant.

eddie pops out of his room with said infant trashing in his arms. eddie has tears streaming down his fact too and steve’s heart just cracks.

“help me,” eddie mouths.

“uh, okay, okay,” steve is wracking his brain for any tips he learned in home economics about taking care of a baby. “what have you tried? i presume she’s in a clean diaper and…” god it was hard to think with the noise screeching in his ears. “fed her?” steve asks louder.

“yes fuck, i keep changing her and trying to feed her. i read her stories and rocked her and tried to put her in her crib. she’s so upset i don’t know why,” eddie’s voice cracks on the last word and suddenly, steve’s across the room. ready to comfort him.

“give her here,” steve says.

eddie’s eyes are panicky and wide but eventually, he hands steve the child. she continues to cry and thrash in steve’s arms so it takes a second for him to hold her properly.

“what’s her name?” steve asks.

“cheyenne” eddie responds, arms wrapped around himself like a hug. his whole body is bouncing and steve feels the urge to reach out and bring him in too but the more pressing matter is currently occupying those arms.

“hi cheyenne,” steve says gently. “seems like you’re mighty upset.”

she yanks at steve’s shirt with her little baby fists, definitely grabbing some chest hair underneath and ripping it. steve winces but recovers quickly.

“would your neighbors kill me if i take her outside?”

“probably,” eddie mutters.

“i’m going to anyway.”

steve heads for the front door and eddie goes to follow him but steve holds out a patient hand. “stay here, take a breath,” steve instructs.

eddie’s eyes well up with more tears. “but what if something—“

“then we’ll do something. right now, being around her isn’t good for you. let me take a crack at this, alright?”

eddie nods solemnly and backs away so steve can open the door.

cheyenne’s cries echo out into the night sky as steve starts to pace around the porch. steve starts to feel a little scared being alone with her but he’s more scared of what the stress has done to eddie.

so he decides to do it scared.

the baby starts to have this hiccuping breaths that pull steve out of his thought spiral. steve shushes her and props her up so her head is on his shoulder. he rubs her back with his hand, which takes up her entire back, and tries to stay calm when her cries are right next to his ear.

“you like music? 'course you do, everyone does.i don’t know how many lullabies eddie knows. his taste is a little more intense,” steve says conversationally as he continues to pace. “i don’t even think i know any lullabies. um…”

cheyenne cries with new fervor right into his neck and steve just panic sings the first song that comes to mind, “shake it up is all we know. using bodies up as we go. i’m waking up a fantasy. the shades are all the colors we used to see.”

cheyenne’s cries go down a peg, still loud but less wailing and more whimpering. steve’s heart is racing as he slowly continues the song.

“broken ice still melts in the sun. and ties that are broken can be one again. we’re soul alone and soul really matters to me.”

cheyenne keeps crying but it's getting softer by the second. steve rearranges her so she's cradled in his arms. he's blown away by how small she is. how helpless. everything must be so scary for her.

“i'm out of touch,” steve sings softly. “you're out of time. but i'm out of my head when you're not around. oh, oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh.“

cheyenne's eyes open up and they're this big beautiful brown, just like eddie's. his breath is taken away as he keeps singing weakly. he doesn't even realize that she stops crying entirely and is just blinking at him, dazed.

it takes eddie slowly opening the front door for him to recognize the silence. he sits on the couch and bounces her gently in his arms, still humming and singing the occasional "oh's". eddie very slowly and quietly sits beside him.

steve looks up at eddie who is staring at him in awe. the same beautiful brown eyes are puffy and swollen, just like cheyenne's.

“c'mon eds, sing it with me,” steve jokes quietly.

eddie shakes his head. “i can't believe she's a hall and oates fan.”

“everyone is,” steve says simply and sings, “i'm out of touch.” he gestures to eddie to continue.

“i'm out of time,” eddie sings, looking incredibly pained to do so.

“but i'm out of my head,” steve leans his ear to the side.

“when you're not around,” eddie says flat, voice raspy from his exhaustion. it makes steve's stomach flip so he returns his attention to the near asleep girl in his arms.

they keep humming until she's fully asleep. steve leans back into the couch with a long exhale, his shoulders rubbing up against eddie's.

“you're magical,” eddie whispers.

“please,” steve scoffs.

“i'm serious,” eddie replies. steve turns his head to face him and nearly chokes from how close their faces are.

”i don't know how you do it,“ eddie mumbles.

”do what?“

”make everyone around you so calm. i feel like all i can do is make everyone stressed out,” eddie laughs weakly.

steve shakes his head. ”not true. just ask buckley, i stress her out on a daily basis.“

eddie chuckles and sniffles. steve sees his lips stretch over his teeth in a smile.

”thank you for coming over. i didn't know who else to call.“

”how did you end up with your baby cousin anyway?“ steve asks.

eddie sighs, tilting his head back into the cushion. if he leaned his head closer, he'd be on steve's shoulder. steve wishes he would.

”her mom is taking a much needed vacation and i promised wayne that he didn't need to take time off work to take care of her. that was a huge mistake.“

”you did your best,“ steve argues quietly.

”maybe but it wasn't enough.“

”hey, c'mon. don't beat yourself up. you did what you could and found help when you couldn't. it's not your fault this is her only form of communication.“

eddie smiles again and yawns. ”you wouldn't happen to have this album on cassette would you?“

steve beams at him. ”in my car, actually.“

”i'm getting it.“

they put cheyenne to bed with the big bam boom album playing softly on eddie's stereo. they stare at her peaceful form snoozing away and seem to forget how she looked not even a half hour ago.

”you should get some sleep,” steve whispers, nudging eddie with his shoulder.

“you're right, you're right,” eddie sighs. he gestures that he's gonna walk steve to the door. steve grabs his keys and turns before opening the door.

“thank you again,” eddie whispers.

“anytime. hall and oates always heals,” steve smiles.

eddie rolls his eyes fondly and shoves steve's shoulder. only, his hand doesn't move away. it splays out over steve's beating heart which is rapidly picking up speed. eddie's eyes slowly drift up to catch steve's.

“i was listening to that song yesterday,” steve whispers. “over and over and over again.”

“you must really like it,“ eddie says, a little confused.

”no. i mean, i do but…“ steve whispers. ”i was listening to it because... i start to go a little insane when i'm not around you.“

eddie's brows furrow. ”w-what do you mean?“

”can't keep you out of here,“ steve explains, tapping his temple. ”i don't know what to do. this is where i need help, eds.”

eddie's lips part in a silent gasp. he takes a step closer and rubs his thumb over steve's shirt. steve's hand comes up and covers his.

“i can help,” eddie whispers, tilting his head up so their noses brush.

that's how steve and eddie share their first kiss in eddie's living room, sleep deprived and unhurried. just four lips gently sliding over one another.

when they pull away with tired smiles, eddie murmurs, “in case she wakes up, you should probably sleep over.”

(inspired by @gothbat99 's wonderful steve harrington playlist)

#emily writes #idk why i hc steve being great with babies but i just DO #steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fics #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things ficlet

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