#where there was tenderness i was cheering basically | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

charlesslut16 · 4 months

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Hi there! Can you write Yuki with social media admin y/n crushing on each other. like they were so obvious to other drivers that they have a bet going on but Yuki and y/n is just like trying to be professional while checking each other out. maybe a scene of Yuki finding out y/n learning Japanese for him too for max fluff? I need some Yuki appreciation after reading too many bad comments about Yuki recently. Hope you'll pick this up and thank you in advance xxx

-learning your language for love-

summary : you, the social media admin fell for yuki, the formula one driver....

PAIRING : yuki tsunoda x reader

WARNINGS : none

note : send in more requests!!!

december masterlist ; masterlist

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It was a typical race weekend at the Suzuka Circuit. Yuki Tsunoda, a young and talented driver for the Scuderia AlphaTauri team, was busy preparing his car for the upcoming Grand Prix.

Across the garage, social media admin, you, who had been crushing on Yuki for months, couldn't help but feel a flutter in her stomach as she watched him work.

The other drivers and mechanics had even taken notice of their obvious attraction, to the point where they had a small bet going on about when, or if, anything would happen between them.

As Yuki wiped his brow, adjusting his helmet, he glanced over at you and felt his cheeks heating up. He couldn't deny the fact that he had been checking you out too .

Even tho you both tried to remain professional. The tension between you was palpable like two magnets desperately trying not to be drawn together.

Later that day, while reviewing some data in the team's hospitality suite, Yuki caught you silently studying a Japanese phrase book intently.

Intrigued, he leaned over your shoulder and saw that you were actually trying to learn some basic Japanese words and phrases for him.

His heart skipped a beat as he realized how much effort she was putting into making him feel welcome and appreciated.

Overhearing their interaction, one of the other drivers, who had placed a bet on them getting together, smiled to himself and whispered, "Looks like we're in for quite a show this weekend."

As the weekend progressed, Yuki and you continued to navigate your feelings for each other while keeping up appearances.

They flirted shamelessly but always managed to maintain a respectful distance. It was as if they were dancing around each other, each afraid to make the first move and ruin the delicate balance they had created.

Finally, on the eve of the race, as they were working late into the night, Yuki mustered up the courage to ask you about the Japanese phrase book.

His voice barely above a whisper, he said, "You've been learning Japanese for me?" Your eyes widened, and you looked away for a moment before turning back to him with a small smile.

"Well," you said, "I thought it would be nice to try and understand you better. And… maybe it would make things a little easier for both of us."

He nodded, feeling a lump forming in his throat. "Thank you," he said softly, reaching out to take your hand. And with that simple gesture, you knew that the lines you had drawn were about to be blurred.

The race was intense, with both Yuki and you working tirelessly to support your team. You couldn't help but steal glances at each other, your eyes filled with promises and possibilities.

The other drivers and mechanics, who had placed their bets, watched on with bated breath, eager to see how things would unfold between the two of them.

As the checkered flag fell, the race was declared over. Yuki crossed the finish line in sixth place, but the victory he truly wanted was already his.

He turned to you, his heart in his throat, and leaned in close. Your lips met in a tender, hesitant kiss that spoke volumes about the depth of your feelings for each other.

Around you, the team erupted in cheers, oblivious to the moment of intimacy that was unfolding between their driver and their social media admin.

But for Yuki and you, this was a private celebration of your own, a moment of connection that transcended your professional roles and spoke to the deep love you had for each other.

As you parted, both of you with flushed cheeks and hearts racing, you knew that your lives had just changed forever. The journey ahead might be uncertain, but you would face it together, hand in hand, as partners in every sense of the word.

The following weeks were a whirlwind of excitement and adjustment as Yuki and you navigated your new relationship while continuing to excel in your respective roles on the team.

You became inseparable, both on and off the track, your connection growing stronger with each passing day. The other drivers and mechanics, who had placed their bets, couldn't help but admire the pair's dedication and passion for one another.

#formula one #f1 #formula 1 #f1 fluff #yuki tsunoda x you #yuki tsunoda x reader #yuki tsunoda #yuki tsunoda fic #f1 x you #yuki tsunoda imagine #yuki tsunoda x y/n #f1 fandom #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x y/n #f1 x female reader

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alxtiny · 7 months

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Game Night | Song Mingi x Reader

Synopsis: where mingi teaches you how to play valorant

Pairing: Song Mingi x gn!reader, domestic au

Genre: fluff, crack

Word count: 0.9k

Warnings: none

Notes: this one’s a little rushed but I hope y’all like it

masterlist

You glanced at the computer screen, a mixture of excitement and confusion swirling in your eyes as you stared at the colorful characters and fast-paced action of Valorant. Your boyfriend, Mingi, had been talking about this game for weeks, practically bubbling over with excitement every time a new update was released. Today, you had finally agreed to give it a try, even though you were more of a casual gamer yourself.

"Okay, so first things first," Mingi said, his deep voice full of enthusiasm as he scooted his chair closer to yours. "These are the different characters, or agents, you can choose from. Each has unique abilities."

You nodded, trying to absorb the information as he explained the basics of the game. But truth be told, you were feeling a little overwhelmed. The controls, the abilities, the maps – it was a lot to take in.

"Here, let's start with something simple," Mingi suggested, leaning over to adjust your hand on the mouse. "Move your character using the W, A, S, and D keys. Good. Now, try aiming your crosshair at that target over there. Left-click to shoot."

You followed his instructions, your shots going wide and missing the target completely. Mingi let out a chuckle, a warm sound that made you smile despite your embarrassment.

"I... I think at this rate I might end up shooting at our own teammates," you confessed, a sheepish smile tugging at your lips.

"Don't worry, it's totally normal to struggle at first," he reassured you. "Let me show you something."

Mingi's arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you gently into his lap. Your heart skipped a beat at the sudden proximity, feeling his warmth radiating against your back. He positioned his hands over yours on the mouse and keyboard, guiding your movements with a patience that amazed you.

"See? You're getting the hang of it," he said, his breath tickling your ear as he leaned in to offer guidance. "Now, let's try using one of your agent's abilities."

As he explained the unique abilities of your chosen agent, his deft fingers danced over the keyboard, demonstrating the combinations you needed to use. With each passing moment, you felt your confidence growing. Maybe this game wasn't so intimidating after all.

Time flew by as the two of you played round after round, the evening melted into the night, stars coming out and lighting the sky. You went from struggling to shoot a target to actually getting kills in the game. Mingi's encouragement and guidance were instrumental in your progress, and you were having a blast despite the occasional frustration.

Surprisingly, after a few more rounds, something incredible happened – you managed to beat Mingi in a one-on-one duel. Your character's shot hit him right on target, and the announcer declared you the winner.

You let out a triumphant cheer, unable to contain your excitement. Mingi sat there with a stunned expression, a mix of disbelief and a playful pout gracing his lips. He looked like a kicked puppy, and you couldn't help but burst into laughter at his reaction.

"Hey, no fair!" he protested, his pout deepening as he crossed his arms mockingly. "I've been playing this game for months, and you beat me in one night?"

You leaned over, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. "It's just beginner's luck, Mingi. Plus, I had an amazing teacher."

He let out a dramatic sigh, still maintaining the pout. "It took me so long to learn and be good at this game, and you just come along and steal my victory."

You grinned, cupping his cheeks and turning his face toward you. "Well, you know what they say about student surpassing the master, right?"

He huffed, but his pout was slowly turning into a smile. "Is that so?"

You leaned in, your lips brushing against his in a sweet, tender kiss. "Don't worry, Mingi. I might have beaten you in a game, but you're still the best teacher and the most amazing boyfriend."

His pout finally gave way to a smile, and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a warm hug. "You're too good for me, you know that?"

You laughed, nuzzling into his chest. "And you're too silly for words."

His smile widened, and a mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes. "Oh, is that so? Well, if I'm so silly…"

Before you could react, he started to tickle you mercilessly, his fingers floating over your sides and under your arms. Laughter erupted from your lips as you squirmed in his lap, trying to escape his playful onslaught.

"Okay, okay, I give up!" you gasped between giggles, breathless from the tickling.

Mingi finally relented, a triumphant grin on his face. "That's what I thought. No one can out-silly me."

You rolled your eyes affectionately, your heart full of warmth and love for this playful and wonderful man, as you snuggled deeper into his embrace.

Send an ask or a message to be added to taglist

DISCLAIMER: THIS IS PURE FICTION AND NOT RELATED TO THE MEMBERS OF ATEEZ IN REAL LIFE PLEASE DO NOT TAKE IT SERIOUSLY

Taglist: @sushi0517

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chaoticevilspacewitch · 24 days

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RWBY Fanfic Recommendation List

Fics that have really struck me, vaguely organized by ship and/or topic.

Bumbleby (Blake x Yang)

first off, basically anything by pugoata. She's the goddess-empress of the Bees. I'm gonna give particular props to Banshee, as it was the first longer fic and AU that I read, and it really opened up my mind to what fanfic could be.

You're a Mountain, Full of Glory - a ski/snowboard with amazing characterization and a closing scene that will live rent-free in my head forever, in a good way.

They Can't Steal the Love You're Born to Find - childhood soulmates repeatedly torn apart and reconnecting, with courtroom drama. One of the most angst-ridden Bee fics I've ever read.

Fucking In Love - pornstar AU that gets right to the sex and slow burns the romance. Hot as hell while also full of tenderness and pining.

Midnight Menagerie - exotic dancer, kinda-cyberpunk dystopia AU. Edges you forever with the sex, earns all the angst tags, and we are majorly trusting @kaelidascope when she promises an amazing happy ending.

Bite Me Like You Love Me - one of the hottest Bee smutfics I've ever read.

You and Me - Blake discovers she's pregnant the day Yang goes MIA on a mission and struggles through being a single mother teaching their child about her amazing other mom. Short, happy ending, amazingly sweet.

WhiteRose (Ruby x Weiss)

The Foxtrot - Ruby and Weiss repair their broken lives after the war. It's one of the most popular RWBY fics of all time for a reason.

Can You See My Strings?/Deja Vu - premium mentally ill Weiss escapes from child abuse angst, with a happy ending if you read the sequel.

But Your Voice Used to Be Mine - Weiss escapes abuse to join RBY's punk band whose smash hit she inspired.

Just One Cigarette - Ruby and Weiss have a little meetup roleplay and it's really good.

Faunus Weiss (generally major themes of struggling with internal and external racism)

Craving the Sky - Weiss has painfully concealed her faunus heritage while she tries to earn her father's love. The support of her team, and the love of Blake and Yang (BeesSchnees) help her soar on her own.

Black Swan Theory - faunus Weiss struggles to recover from child abuse and navigate a deeply racist society while building a relationship with Pyrrha (Schneekos).

Clipped Wings - secret faunus Weiss, dealing with racism and abuse from Jacques, this time slow burning towards Pollination.

Villainesses

Melting Glace - Cinder and Neo find love, and no redemption, in the trauma of failing to destroy Beacon. Will make you cheer for them to win by the end.

Rise from the Ashes - Cinder has a Vader moment and saves Ruby from Salem, and Ruby's pure heart helps her heal, and their adversarial relationship turn to affection. Peak RWBY enemies-to-lovers.

Odds & Ends

The Bermuda Triangle - great modern AU BeesSchnees that gets filthy hot at the end.

Midnight Rose - Summer rescues and adopts Cinder out of Atlas. Their relationship, and Cinder coming to love the Xiao Long-Rose family, is beautifully depicted. Still very much ongoing (no ships as of yet).

Fallen Maiden - Jaune dies protecting Pyrrha at Beacon, and the Fall Maiden power remains split. Will Pyrrha's bloody crusade of vengeance consume her? Or, 'Pyrrha goes full Magneto and fucks Cinder up'.

What's In A Name? - Winter and May grow up together, struggling to cope with their feelings for each other against the background of the Atlas aristocracy.

Linked In Life and Love - I'd be remiss if I didn't mention this one. I really, really love the first act, where Team RWBY sees Blake suffering terribly through a surprise heat cycle and decides that they will all "help" her with it. It's sweet and tender and feels legit for them. I'm not a huge fan of where all the series has gone since, but I would invite anyone to judge that for themselves.

(As I see this getting a decent amount of traffic, I'll just point out that, if it's convinced you [correctly] of my impeccable taste in fanfic, you might want to check out my own RWBY writings)

#rwby #rwby fanfic #rwby shipping #ao3 #rwby recommendations #ruby rose #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #yang xiao long #bumbleby #whiterose #save rwby #save crwby #greenlight volume 10

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chahnniesroom · 8 months

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tenderness | bonus scene: banmal

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: the first time you call chan 'oppa.'

this is a bonus scene taking place in the tenderness universe, but you don't have to have read tenderness to read this fic! just know that the main character is currently a manager for stray kids. she's also chan's soulmate, which explains why she lives in the dorms with him.

chapter word count: 1.6k

warnings: none!

a/n: a bit of fluff was requested by one of the readers on ao3. the term 'banmal' is used to describe informal speech in korean and is usually for casual conversation between friends, relatives, or people younger than you. i can't properly demonstrate the way that the main character's speech level changes since speech levels don't exist the same way in english. i only modified the honorifics that y/n uses to address the members. this was my first time writing fluff, it was surprisingly fun!

tenderness masterlist | read it on ao3

“Noona?” You and Jisung are lounging in the living room after a schedule that miraculously ended early. You're not sure where the other guys are and you don't really care, it's nice to have one on one time with Jisung.

“Hm?” You drag your eyes away from the drama that the two of you have been half heartedly been watching to find him deep in thought.

“You called me Jisung-ssi earlier. You always do that. Why?”

“Ah,” you say, flustered. “It just still feels weird to talk to you guys informally. I don’t want anybody to get the wrong idea.”

“But you don’t call Felix, Felix-ssi! I’ve even heard you call him Lixie before! Why is he special?” Jisung whines.

“It’s different!” you defend yourself. “We talk in English mostly. There’s not really any honorifics or levels of speech. It’d be weirder if I did speak formally to him.”

“Sounds like an excuse, but okay. What do you call Channie-hyung?” he asks with a particular gleam in his eyes.

“Chan-ssi,” you say matter-of-factly. You have to bite back a laugh at the disappointed noise he makes at your response.

“Minho-hyung?”

“Minho-ssi.”

“Changbinnie-hyung?”

“Changbin-ssi,” you reply dutifully.

“You guys are the same age! It doesn’t make sense!” he groans.

“I don’t know what you’re expecting,” you say, amused. “I talk to all of you the same.”

“Are you kidding me? You’re hopeless.” He shakes his head dramatically. “You’re soulmates with Channie-hyung! That means you’re basically family to all of us. Listen, at work? Sure, fine, you can be all polite and formal, I get it. But in the dorms?”

“Jisu-”

“Here, the guys are coming over for dinner tonight. Please please please, can you call Minho-hyung oppa to his face?”

“What? No!” you say immediately.

“Pleaseee,” he draws out the word playfully. He shuffles closer and takes your hands in his, pouting exaggeratedly. “Just once! I just want to see his reaction! I know that all of us have told you at one point to speak to us comfortably. He wouldn’t get mad at you, I promise!”

“I’m not going to do it,” you laugh, trying to disentangle your hands.

“You can tell him that I forced you to! I’ll volunteer to clean the dishes after dinner! I’ll be better about cleaning the bathroom! I’ll buy you bubble tea for a week! I’ll buy you new shoes! I’ll stop changing my mind a million times when we’re trying to decide what to order during schedules! I'll write you a song! Please please please, Y/n-noona!”

“I-” you falter. Jisung immediately brightens, his mouth curves into a heart-shaped smile. “Fine. Only because you look so cute.”

Jisung cheers, jumping up and punching the air with his fists.

“You’re the best!!”

“I’m going to blame you for it,” you warn.

“Of course. Even if hyung kills me, it’ll be worth it in the moment.” He beams.

—

At dinner, Jisung sits to your left and every few minutes, he nudges your leg in an attempt to prompt you into speaking. You ignore it, continuing to eat as if nothing is happening. Yes, you agreed to follow along with Jisung’s silly idea, but you still want it to happen naturally, otherwise it would be even more out of place. As much as this is kind of a joke, it is starting to feel a bit strange always using polite speech and you're curious to see how everyone will react.

Opportunity strikes when you stretch to grab one of the side dishes that happen to be in front of Minho. You can't quite reach it sitting, but before you can stand, Minho picks up one of the serving utensils and picks out the best piece, placing it into your bowl. He serves himself next, but you know it's just to play off his kind gesture. You're genuinely grateful for his thoughtfulness.

“Thank you, Minho-oppa,” you say, making sure to keep your voice casual.

Everyone freezes. Minho is good at maintaining his nonchalant expression, but his ears betray him by slowly turning red. Your cheeks are flushed to match and even without looking, you can tell the rest of the boys are stunned. It takes a great effort on your part to not turn to glance at Chan, although you can practically feel his gaze burning into the side of your face.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jeongin elbow Hyunjin in the stomach and mouth "Oppa?" in disbelief.

Finally, Minho recovers enough to clear his throat loudly and say, "it's nothing, I was going to get some anyway."

Jisung, on the other hand, is grinning like an idiot.

“Hyung! You should have seen your reaction, I wish I had taken a picture!” He cries out, laughing loudly.

“What reaction?” Minho tries to play it off.

“Hyung, your ears.” Hyunjin tugs on one teasingly, then instantly apologises and cowers when Minho turns to glare at him.

"Call me oppa too, Y/n!" Changbin says excitedly, standing up to serve you from the dish closest to him.

"We're the same age, Changbin-ah, I'm not going to call you oppa," you tease. He just laughs, delighted to be on the receiving end of your more casual speech.

“If Y/n calls Minho-hyung oppa, does that mean she needs to call Chan-hyung ajhussi?” Seungmin pipes up. Across the table, Hyunjin dissolves into laughter at the thought.

—

Chan doesn’t mention it all evening, even though the boys continue to tease Minho, calling him ‘oppa’ instead of ‘hyung’ when they address him and taking every opportunity to call Chan ‘ajhussi’. They’ve both given out countless headlocks in revenge, but it’s all in good humour. Eventually, Minho, Felix, Seungmin, and Jeongin head home, and the rest of the boys drift off into their own rooms.

After washing up, you join Chan in his room, not wanting to hog the bathroom for any longer than required. He’s already set to sleep and had been sitting in bed scrolling on his phone until you had walked in. Through the reflection of the little mirror that you’re using to do your skincare routine, you can see that he’s watching you.

“You know,” he says steadily. “You can- you can call me that too, if you want.” You pause at the carefully worded request. You make eye contact with him through the mirror and watch as the tips of his ears and the tops of his cheeks slowly pinkens.

“Call you what?” you ask, deliberately playing oblivious.

“You know,” he flounders.

“Do I?" you wonder, tapping a finger to your lips teasingly.

“I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t feel comfortable, I just thought that if you were going to talk to the boys more casually then you can do the same. You’re my soulmate, things don’t have to be so formal all the time. I don’t want to force you to do anything, but I wouldn’t mind, at all! I know Jisung probably was the one to get you to say that to Minho and it was really funny to see his reaction. Uhm. I mean, you can really call me anything that you want! Chan-ssi. Chan-oppa. Chan-ah, actually no that’s kind of weird maybe not that one. Uh if it makes it less weird you can use my English name too! Chris, Christopher, whatever,” he trails off, then buries his face in his hands with a groan. “Sorry, I don’t know what I’m saying.”

You're finished your skincare routine so you put away all the containers and turn in your seat so that you're fully facing him. You take a second to collect yourself, then pitch your voice so it's small and cutesy, a far cry from how you normally talk.

"Oppa," you test. His eyes immediately shoot up to meet yours, cheeks darkening more than they had before. "Do you want me to call you Channie-oppa?" You tilt your head to one side and widen your eyes.

"Argh.” This time, he turns to smash his face in his pillow to hide himself, pulling the blanket over his head for good measure.

"Channie-oppa, why are you hiding? I thought this is what you wanted." You lightly tug at the blanket, but he holds it tight, shaking his head vigorously. You've never been the type to perform aegyo, but it's surprisingly fun and you can't deny that you're enjoying Chan's reaction. After another minute, he pokes his head out looking a bit sheepish.

“You are really cute when you say that,” he admits. “And I really like to hear that you feel comfortable using banmal with us.”

“I am comfortable with everyone, I have been for a while,” you say. “And you’re also really cute when I call you oppa.”

His eyes crinkle as he smiles and you take the opportunity to lean forward and poke one of the dimples that appear. In retaliation, he grips the corners of the blanket and collects you in his arms, effectively swallowing you in the mess of fabric. He pulls you so that you lose balance and fall onto the bed, cradled in his arms. You feel so safe in his embrace and the both of you momentarily fall silent.

“Okay, I think we should sleep now,” Chan says eventually. “Good night, Y/n.”

“Good night… Channie-Oppa,” you respond.

Even though you can’t see Chan in the dark, you know that he’s smiling. It’s enough that you drift off to sleep with a smile as well.

tenderness masterlist | read it on ao3

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toomuchracket · 3 months

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thinking about d word matty surprising girlie with a beach vacation to escape the january london hell weather…. homemade sangria, reading hot girl books by the pool until matty inevitably gets bored so u go skinny dipping to shut him up… thoughts 🤔

it's like you knew i was just about to post that i'm absolutely fucking freezing... the two of you are sitting at the kitchen table on your laptops, your teeth audibly chattering despite the heating being on, and matty's like "babe can you look at this for me? and tell me yes or no?" - you agree, he slides the laptop over, and you see he's on the website for a really nice villa in tenerife, hovering over booking it for check-in in two days' time. you look at him like "serious?", and he nods, and you just BEAM and say "yes. please!" so he books it then and there lol. you cheer when the confirmation for the villa and the flights comes through, and matty laughs and tugs you onto his lap for a hug; you kiss his cheek and say "thank you. m'excited. and looking forward to being warm", and he's like "warm enough to go in the pool and everything". at that, you go "oh!" and stand up, tugging matty behind you like "c'mon" - he's like "whoa babe where's the fire? what are we even doing?", and you smile like "picking out bikinis and swimsuits for me to pack". matty blinks, then scoops you up and speeds towards your bedroom like "ok yeah the haste is necessary" lol, and the next hour is just you torturing him by trying on all your swimwear and not letting him touch you (but you make it up to him. and thank him for treating you to a holiday lmao). anyway, the flight out is good, and the villa is gorgeous - so private, with a hot tub and a massive pool - and once you unpack you go for a little drive for some dinner and to do some food shopping. matty looks at you questioningly when you add two full boxes of wine into the trolley, but he giggles when you're like "what? i want to make sangria"; that's the first thing you do when you get back to the villa, and when matty tries it he's like "fuck me that is LETHAL. but it's good" lol. so yeah, you just get a bit tipsy and make out in the living room that night, and when you wake up feeling a bit tender the next morning you decide to just recover by the pool - matty sleeps it off (you periodically spray him with spf so he doesn't burn lmfao), and you drape yourself over the sun lounger and read your eliza clark book and have a smoke. you're lying on your stomach when matty wakes up, and he moves his lounger next to yours so he can rest his head on your ass with a contented sigh, and you just giggle and say "comfy?" but continue to read your book; he starts kissing and rubbing your bare skin, hoping to get a reaction out of you, but you just hum and say "feels nice" and keep reading. it isn't until he's fully straddling the back of your thighs, kissing up your spine, and sliding his hands under your bikini top to hold your tits that you put the bookmark in the book and lay it on the ground - you're like "you want my attention?", and matty's in your ear like "yeah, m'bored, wanna spend time with you", and you're like "alright. let me stand up, then". matty obliges, shuffling to sit on your lounger, and he smiles when you stretch and reach around to undo the tie keeping your top on like "fuck, baby, you're so hot"; his jaw drops when you undo the ties on your bottoms and jump into the pool, but he grins again when you beckon him over with your index finger and a wink. you laugh when he cannonballs into the water, and the two of you have a little kiss, which turns into a makeout session, which turns into - you guessed it - pool sex. and that's basically the itinerary for the rest of your week away: riling matty up by wearing exclusively swimwear (he's like "these bikinis are so easy to take off god i wish you could wear them all the time", and you're like "yeah but we'd get nothing done except each other lol"), and fucking until you're exhausted. basically, the perfect holiday <3

#mads answers asks #matty asks #fluff asks #smutty asks #d word matty

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dozing-marshmallow · 4 months

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CHRISTMAS WITH TOTAL DRAMA CHARACTERS(CHRIS, DUNCAN, HEATHER) SCENARIOS

Merry Christmas everyone! So sorry I couldn’t post something Christmas themed sooner, I hope everyone’s been having a wonderful day with family and friends whether you celebrate or not!🎄❤️

CHRIS

Despite the Christmas events he hosted for many networks, Chris didn’t feel he was really celebrating it until he went over to Newfoundland.

Before dinner, you joined him on this tradition that his homeland calls “Mummering” where it was basically Guess Who and Trick or Treat combined.

Needless to say, every neighbour you visited guessed who he was correctly.

He was reluctant to complete the family secret Santa. Originally, you sucked your teeth, thinking he was just being arrogant. However, from that event, you got an insight on the nature of a lot of his relatives- opportunistic.

“Could you lend me a few thousand dollars? What’s a guy like you to lose?", "Could you be the best nephew in the world and pay for the wedding of my best friend’s daughter?", "Could you help me pay off my mortgage?"

No wonder why your husband was barely enjoying himself at the dinner table! These people didn’t see him as a human; they saw him as a big shot wallet.

“Tell me, Chris... Is this how every Christmas goes for you?” you asked when it was just you and him, sitting next to him on the guest bed.

He was as sombre as ever. Sombre!,“Yeah. Told you the rest of the family weren’t important. I only bother to put up with them for my mom. I wish they all drop dead soon though.”

Not on Christmas Day... You couldn’t end the evening like this,“Okay... Is there anything you want to do together to cheer you up before we go to bed?”

“Hm...” the exhaustion shifts in his eyes as he smugly commands,“Tell me how good I look.”

You sigh in annoyance. That, you could do any day,“Really, Chris?”

“Fiiiiiine.” his moping tone of voice settled back,“I suppose raiding the leftover desserts wouldn’t hurt.”

“That...” is an oddly simple request coming from him,“Yet you’re implying you never did it?”

His attention is caught by the room’s door,“I didn’t have anyone I wanted to do it with.”

And unlike the fall of snow, his festive misery had vanished all at once.

“ᴬˡˡ ᴵ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᶜʰʳⁱˢᵗᵐᵃˢ ⁱˢ ʸᵒᵘ!”

DUNCAN

Duncan’s dad was very pushy about Church this time around.

And he always found in his best interest to not go anyway.

This time though, you were there with him. So he decided, he’ll go this year.

He was also forced to join the local youth choir that would sing on the streets to raise money for those in need.

As long as he got to wear a mask...

“Not happening.” his dad sneered.

Okay, it wasn’t actually as bad as he thought it’d go.

Though he didn’t want to give his dad that satisfaction so he played sour about coming home. His main motivation was to steal some plates worth of food, give his mother her Christmas present and stuff the stockings of his cousins with bars of coal.

If anyone asks, you didn’t see anything.

His mom knitted him a Christmas sweater in return so obviously he wore it.

He visited his friends back in juvie with you.

It was quite heartwarming, seeing these teens who had done wrong in the past still have tenderness to friends and family, making you wish them a good future post leaving prison.

Besides, if they were Duncan’s friends, they had to have some morals.

Walking back, it was clear that he had room left for mischief and wanted to fill that space by stalling so you would be in front of him and turn around in confusion to not be met with Duncan, but his snowball.

“Hahaha! Nice makeup!”

You brush the snow off your face and feel your own devil inspire.

Let’s give him a taste of his own medicine.

You bent down and rolled up a snowball. Let the fight begin!

“ ᴼ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ, ᵃˡˡ ʸᵉ ᶠᵃⁱᵗʰᶠᵘˡ, ʲᵒʸᶠᵘˡ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʳⁱᵘᵐᵖʰᵃⁿᵗ!”

HEATHER

She scrunches her nose at the arrival of Christmas, that season that’s “nothing but noise and shallow junk.”

"I got you a present." you held it out for her.

“Buying my favour when it’s not my birthday, huh?” she looked inside the bag with no anticipation until she saw designer clothes neatly folded. She raised a smile and an eyebrow as she glanced back at you,“Okay, I guess it’s not that bad.”

Seeing her house made you wonder why she auditioned to come on the show.

To her displeasure, you were having fun cutting snowflakes, painting ornaments and decorating gingerbread men with her younger brothers and sisters.

Even more so when you helped her parents prepare the meal.

“We could never dream of Heather helping us out in the kitchen!” her mother claimed, wearing gloves over her manicured hands and a long apron over her expensive attire,“This is a nice change!”

“For sure! (Y/N) should come every year! Maybe our Heather Feather could learn a thing or two from you!” her father would then add on, with a hopeful smile.

With that, she dragged you out of the kitchen by the ear lobe.

“Let’s get out of here. I want something to drink.” she demanded, all ready in her outside winter gear.

Why come home if you’re not going to enjoy yourself?

You’re about to pay for the cozy drinks, but Heather interrupts you.

“I’ll do it.”

After an opening sip and staring at all this pure white showering from the sky, you smirk at Total Drama’s first villain,“So she does have a giving heart!”

Her answer was as cold, but her face was soft,“Don’t make me spill this on you.” the steam from her cup should be the only thing your eyes made contact with,“I just felt nice today. Don’t get used to it.”

“I won’t, I won’t.”

Something about that clarification made her tighten her grip on her cup for a small moment.

Seems like she wanted to give home a chance to fix her a reason for being...this. Generous.

A reason to like Christmas.

However, being with you, peacefully drinking with her, not disgusted or intimidated, was a reason on its own.

“ᵀʰⁱˢ ʸᵉᵃʳ, ᵗᵒ ˢᵃᵛᵉ ᵐᵉ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ, ᴵ’ˡˡ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵒⁿᵉ ˢᵖᵉᶜⁱᵃˡ,”

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addydydy · 6 months

Text

𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧 -

“Strangers in the Night”

John Marston - Red Dead Redemption II (2018)

Female reader, no (Y/N) or OC used.

Content Warning: Oral sex (receiving), fingering, basically just John Marston eating you out in the bathroom of a bar.

Word count: 1286

of course the night would end like this. entangled in a strange man’s arms, his calloused hand desperately grasping your tresses. chapped lips met yours, his soft groans and pleading whispers fogging the already tense bathroom.

you came to the bar for some drinks and fun. the flirting, although provocative at times, was harmless. intimacy was not the goal for the night. after all, who the hell would have sex with a man they had hardly met?

you. you would.

“look at you.” the man, supposedly named John, praised huskily. his digits ran over your cleavage, gingerly playing with the buttons of your top. boots shuffled over the old, dirty wooden floorboards. there was a muffled creak everytime john shifted his weight.

this wasn’t something you were used to. past flings consisted of friends or fleeting relationships.

but all worry washed away — like seawater retreating from a beach — once his sandpaper tongue dragged across your jugular. his hot, drunken breath was practically imprinted onto your skin at this point.

“wouldn’t the hotel be ideal?” you finally whimpered out, thoughts spilling from your loose lips without a second thought. maybe it was your inebriated state. or maybe it was the sheer amount of pleasure you trembled with.

“we’ll save the hotel for round two.” he chuckled against your flesh, staring up at you like a mutt would it’s owner.

“round two?” you inquired gently, but was cut off by an intrusive whimper which fell from your mouth. his lips traveled from your throat to exposed breasts, where he unbuttoned your top further — before fully peeling the clothing off.

in the same second, his grasp moved from your hair to the clasp of your bra. he maintained eye contact, his chest heaving with yours. fumbling for a few long, drawn out moments — he finally was able to peel the fabric from your skin.

“d’ya think you can be quiet, missy?” John suggested, his voice akin to rough pebbles harshly scraping against eachother. although desperately nodding, you both shared the knowledge that he’d likely have to muffle your noises.

in a tantalizing maneuver, his focus averted to your chest, where he lavished attention upon the succulent flesh. gentle, slow licks around your right nipple became needy sucks upon the bud — his tongue swirling around the hardened flesh. your other breast was not abandoned, though, and his hand immediately fondled it. John took his time caring for you. worshipping you — despite only just meeting you in this crowded bar.

but that didn’t matter. the sounds of drunken laughter and cheers were muffled — and the noises of sweet, tender intimacy took over. like a delicate tango of passion and desire.

throwing your head back, you allowed tiny mewls to drag from your throat, and it only encouraged the man in front of you. sure, he was drunk — but he knew how to use his mouth.

“jesus — can’t you just fuck me already?” you moaned hoarsely, unable to put a stop to your thoughtless comments. in truth, you did enjoy all of this sweet, loving care — but the way your core screamed for attention wasn’t something to dismiss.

“ain’t you just an impatient girl?” John jested, gazing up at you with that coy smirk of his.

“don’t give me that.” you huffed between heavy breaths, unable to contain the sheer excitement you had been feeling. not that containment mattered — John could already see the visible damp area in your jeans.

“no, no. i enjoy this. i enjoy needy women.” he attempted to reassure you, but it fell flat. you only scoffed.

“now just how many women have you done this with?” in truth, it really didn’t matter. while you were curious, this was a simple one-night stand. a night of intense pleasure, only to be brushed off the next day for a return to mundane life.

“none as gorgeous as you.” he chirped, emitting a generous laugh from you. one thing was for sure: John was witty. “since you can’t be patient,” he began, his hands moving to your belt buckle and tugging your jeans to your ankles, “guess we won’t be needin’ these no more.” he finished.

John slowly began slinking to his knees, his fingers kneading into the soft flesh of your thighs as he leaned forward — burying his nose into the damp area of your panties. he inhaled leisurely, his eyes fluttering closed. you noticed just how long his lashes were at that moment. how they seemed to perfectly meet his scarred, blemished skin. perhaps the alarm bells should’ve gone off the moment a man with laceration scars across his cheek initiated conversation— but logic didn’t apply in this situation. only inclination.

the tip of his wet tongue met the fabric, gently prodding against your clothes entrance. another whimper left you, and he chuckled once again, the vibrations of his baritone voice only increasing the desperate ache in your core.

“so desperate.” he commented, hooking his indexes around the band of your underwear before peeling it away. you watched with curiosity (and arousal) as he eyed your glistening core, completely breathless for some long moments. he gazed upwards, meeting eye contact with you, before looking away like a shy boy.

but this second of vulnerability didn’t last long, and the outlaw on his knees began to lap up your damp folds as if he were a starving animal. your back met the splintering wood walls behind you, your legs trembling as you stood. this position was impossible. the thought of losing your balance was somehow more embarrassing than sharing an intimate moment with a stranger.

he rubbed his palms over your upper thighs, massaging the tense area for a moment before delving back into your depths. his tongue prodded into you, feeling and tasting every inch of your tightening walls. apparently you tasted good, because John physically couldn’t get enough. he moaned against your core, unable to stop his own noises from becoming conjoined with yours.

“so good for me. you’re so good.” he groaned praise, barely taking time for air as he ate your drenched cunt dry. the outlaw’s left hand drifted upwards, while the other continued to gingerly knead your thigh.

his thumb rubbed over your clit in circles, lavishing attention to the swollen bud — all while continuing his oral assault. at this point, your mind was practically blank. your palm muffled most of the desperate whines which vocalized. in your lower stomach, you could already feel the tension increase — like a knot begging to become undone. the last few moments were pure bliss, causing you to throw your head back.

your hand became entangled with his dark, messy hair — and you held a painfully tight grip upon his scalp. but he paid no mind. he only cared for the meal in front of him.

after some long moments of pleasurable tension, you finally released over his face — and John greedily licked up every droplet of delectable essence you had emitted. it took all of your power to not collapse onto the ground. instead, you simply slumped against the wall, your legs trembling as you attempted to regain much needed composure.

without much warning, he lazily pressed his moist mouth to yours, the taste of your release mixed with saliva. his body pressed against yours, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist. unable to do much, you returned the kiss without much thought, trembling as his digits danced across your spine. after one passionate kiss, John started peppering kisses across your face. anything to memorize you.

“is this the part where i take you to my hotel room?” John muttered, that underlying jest plaguing his tone.

you didn’t mind, though.

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption john #john marston #red dead redemption x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #smut #rough draft

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seatibuie · 6 months

Text

About him and the fire that burns you alive.

Tags: Fluff, angst. (1.3 Words)

Notes: This is basically about missing Portgas .D. Ace, in remembrance of him. I write this because I am still crying over him after 7 years, thus, I write what I can dedicated for him.

Link: Find my work here!

When it comes to fire, it's always about him. The colour of autumn, leaves fall and the soil starts to dry. It's always about him when it comes to oranges, both the fruit and the colour; fused with red, aflame in spark of fireworks and campfire. It's always him whenever the sun rises or sets, when the river flows, or when the first flower of spring blooms; both on the ground, or inside your throat that it clogs your air away, far away from your lungs and it flicks the fire inside you. The whole world is about him, who was born in Baterilla, South Blue. And this page too, is about him, who holds the name D.

It's always about Portgas .D. Ace.

God's greatest archenemy, they said. But to you, he is nothing but the greatest gift ever alive. If God says that he is a wicked, sinful child, then you are bathed in wickery, bloodied in sin. And if the world says that he is a nasty, ugly child just because he is the son of the world's worst criminal, then your head is wanted by everyone. Because what child should bear the sin of his father? What child should be blamed for the sin he never did? And what child who was born from the womb of a brave warrior of a woman, should be oppressed by the belief that he has nothing but sinner's blood—? Thus, what is love if it's not tender; what if love, if it's not seeing him as the softest flower's petal in the dead tree branch.

It's always about Portgas .D. Ace.

The friendliest sun on the face of earth. Kindness hurts sometimes, either sanity or pride, people can choose; yet his kindness feels so genuine that you can't even resent it. One said he was generally cheerful and outgoing all the time (though the same man said he was especially excited when he talked about his little brother). And that way, he manages to be your solemn embodiment of sun rays. Baterilla, oh, Baterilla—so far, so south, such a place to be blessed by the flickering candle. From one coast to another, corals and waves, rocks and salts, and maybe the shells of dead molluscs. But if darkness is the sky, then he is the star; and if darkness is the sea, then he is bioluminescent. And from coast to coast, river to river, waterfalls to canyons to the Grand Line, there is no one as soft as he is. Because it takes so much violence for him to be that tender, it takes so much insecurity to be that goofy, and foremost, it takes so much sadness to be that kind. Yet, even if life takes so many questions out of his lungs, still, he hasn't found the answer.

It's always about Portgas .D. Ace.

From a metal pipe, into a dagger, then a fire fist. He who challenges warlords, he who challenges Gods. He who filled with love for his brother, he who filled with love for you. Round necklaces, as red as bravery and back to orange is his hat. Yellow somewhat suits him, the colour of jealousy that you didn't expect. However, despite how red he is, insecurity paints him better than all the myriad colours ever existed. Thus, one day, someone ask you:

"Who is he?"

They said, pointing at the raging flame on the sinking boat as you watched from the shore. And that time, you answered:

"The guy I love so dearly."

And whenever that conversation happened, no matter in between summer sky or winter blues, in between autumn shadows or grasses in spring—it's always about him.

It's always about Portgas .D. Ace.

Captain, glutton, a navigator he is. Treasure may be across the sea—yet he maps your body better than the ocean. From cheeks to cheeks, eyes to eyes, breast to breast, and limbs to limbs, he knows how to map you. The colour of your skin, the hue of your blush, the coldness of your fingertips, the softness of your breasts, he knows it so well. He knows where to press, when to press—either when you have seasickness, or when you are underneath him, pressed in between his flesh and his mattress, just like a flower in between book pages. He knows how to touch, what to touch—is it your bulging stomach or is it tears on your face, because no matter which one, his fingertips are warm enough to soothe away the pain. He knows why; why are you upset, why are you not eating; why are you angry; or why are you speaking his name over, and all over again. The latter is because everything in this world is about him, and just him only.

It's always about Portgas .D. Ace.

Listening is the last thing he can do, he is terrible at it. When you said: "Be careful it's still hot!" He ate it a second later and his tongue got burnt. It's weird how, because isn't he made of fire? When you said: "You should stop sleeping while eating." Which is impossible—he falls asleep right after the word leaves your mouth. When you said: "You should stop going on a mission alone and get hurt!" Yet, the moment he stepped back to your cabin, he was full of nothing but cuts and glories. Listening is hard when you are filled with so many quirks and beams, just like him. Yet he is somewhat good at listening to his own voice, either the one inside his heart, or the one swimming and saying bullshit inside his mind. The one that speaks: "The ocean is calling for you." Or the one that speaks: "Your presence is a whole abomination." And sometimes, he gets it mixed up inside his mind. Yet, all those voices speak to the same person, about the same person.

It's always about Portgas .D. Ace.

Lying is not his best friend, he is bad at telling lies. However, that happened because of how you are able to read him like a book too. Sometimes he gets too nervous, and too comical to even lie to your face. When you ask: "Who eats my last piece of cake?" around the dining room, every eye darted towards him—he got nervous, and his eyes were wandering here and there. When you ask: "Who spills ink on my book?" in the ship's deck, he quickly averts his eyes from yours. You can always tell when he lies, because he is so easy to read. Thus, when he said: "I will never die!" In front of you, it sounds so certain, so powerful, he is not lying. You keep that sentence in your mind.

Portgas .D. Ace will never die.

The news soared faster than the wind, and just like that, he lied.

Death.

Lie.

Promise.

Fate.

It's always about Portgas .D. Ace.

Valhalla, he is the sanctuary of broken dreams. Maybe you are losing to death, it loves him more than you do—yet life loves you more than you expected it to be. Losing him is easy, but having your daily life imagining what if he was here is devastating. One said someone will never die if you keep them in your memory, yet, what torture they wish upon you? For you have to remember such a dead lover like he is, when all you want is for him to come back and admit that he lied to you, that fate is playing against you. He is the grave of roaring seas, waves and tides sink inside him. Yet you, somewhat even without someone asking not to, you will never forget about him. One day someone will ask: "Who is Portgas .D. Ace?" And people might say:

"A pirate."

"A brat."

"A brother of mine."

"Someone's older brother."

"Someone that promised me to come back."

And when that question directed to you, you will say:

"Someone I loved so dearly."

Because it's always about Portgas .D. Ace.

#portgas ace x you #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d ace x you

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delusionalmultifandomwriter · 3 months

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Cuddling (fluff)

Requested?: No

Oneshot: Tim and Bernard cuddling. (That's it, that's the oneshot.)

I didnt plan to post today but here we go

Tim Drake loved a lot of things. A lot of them were Robin or crime fighting related but his boyfriend Bernard was one of the things that Tim Drake himself loved the most.

After a long patrol, Red Robin put down his gear with a long sigh. The patrol was not necessarily bad it was just very long and Tim was drained, ready to fall into bed and sleep for 12 hours straight. Batman already sat back in front of the Batcomputer, the rest of the family was out on patrol or upstairs in the manor.

"Master Tim." Tim turned around, Alfred approached him with a small smile. "Mr. Dowd came to visit you earlier, he is staying in your room. I thought i would let you know so you don't get a heart attack."

Tim's eyes widened and a smile crept up on his face. He texted Bernard earlier but he didn't know he would come over. Alfred smiled and nodded his head before he walked off. Tim stood there for a few more seconds smiling before he took a very swift shower. After all, his boyfriend would probably not want to share a bed with him when he was all sweaty and dirty from patrol.

After that, dressed in a tshirt and sweatpants, Tim silently made his way through the hallways over to his room. It looked like the light was out so he slowly opened the door to not wake his boyfriend, in case he was sleeping.

Tim quietly entered and closed the door behind himself. The room was dark except for the moon light shining through the gap between the curtains. He could spot a body under his blankets that slowly moved up and down breathing, blond hair sticking out from under the blanket.

Tim tiptoed over to the bed and slowly crawled over the matress and under the blanket. Bernard sighed softly as the matress moved under him. Tim layed down behind him and wrapped his arms around the other boys waist which made the smaller boy press his body against him a little.

"You are finally here." Bernard mumbled sleepy while he turned around and pressed his nose into Tim's shoulder. Tim smiled as the smaller boy wrapped his arms around him too. "Yeah, i kinda got baited with the idea of cuddling my boyfriend." Tim chuckled softly while he put his head on Bernard's head.

"You seemed to feel down earlier so i thought i'd come over and cheer you up." Bernard leaned up and peppered Tim's neck with kisses. Tim giggled and blinked away some tears. "Ahh, how do i deserve you?" He grumbled while he kissed Bernard's head. The other boy leaned up and nudged his nose against Tim's chin, demanding a kiss. Tim chuckled and leaned down to fulfill his wishes.

Bernard's lips where soft against his and he happily sighed into the kiss. They exchanged some sweet, innocent kissed and leaned their foreheads against eachother to enjoy the other's presence. "You totally deserve me." Bernard whispered. "But don't think about it now, i came to cuddle you happy, not to make you cry." Tim rolled over and pressed his face into the pillow embarassed.

"So... do you want me to spoon you or do you want to lay down on top of me?" Bernard asked with a sunny smile. Tim pressed his face into the pillow deeper. "On top of you please." He grumbled into the soft fabric sheepishly. Tim felt his boyfriend move around a little and after that hold up one side of the blanket. He moved over little by little like a cautious animal until he pressed himself up and climbed half over Bernhard. He settled down on his chest with his arms around his back and their legs tangled together.

Bernhard slipped his hands under Tim's t-shirt and gently carassed his lower back. Tim purred a little and nuzzled his nose into his neck. "I like that, keep going." He mumbled into Bernhards neck who chuckled in response. He continued to gently massage his boyfriends skin and Tim basically went limb on top of him.

The tender affection slowly lulled Tim to sleep, there was no denying that this was his happy place. "Sleep tight, Tim." Bernard whisper into his hair. Tim lazily lifted his head up and leaned over to gently kiss his boyfriend. "Mhh, i love you." He whisper lightly slurrend from the sleepiness. Bernard smiled at him and returned a short but sweet kiss.

"I love you too." Bernard whispered back. Tim made a determined nod of acknowledgement and Bernard laughed softly at the sleepy state that Tim slipped into. "Can you spoon me now?" Tim asked. Bernard nodded and Tim rolled over to the side with his back facing the other boy.

Bernard scooted closed and wrapped his arms tightly around Tim's waist. He pulled the blanket over them and made sure Tim was tucked in nicely and wouldn't get cold. "Thank you." Tim mumbled while he nuzzled into the body behind him and took Bernard's hand to kiss it. "I got you. Good night, baby." The blonde boy whispered into Tim's neck smiling.

Tim smiled and kissed Bernhard's hand again before he tucked it under his arm and finally dozed off in the arms of his love.

#batfam #tim drake #red robin #bernard dowd #tim drake x bernard dowd #lovers #love #cuddling & snuggling #fluff #my writing #wrote this during statistics class #timbern

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vacantgodling · 10 months

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worthless war

You never learn his name.

Your thoughts have already devolved into the most basic of actions to sustain you along. Eat. Sleep. Forward. Retreat. Swing. Parry. Kill.

There is a reason generals do not wear helmets. Their matted, blood soaked hair used to be windswept and glorious. They bark orders and their pawns follow; the matted grass of stinking, rotting corpses, the board of a most convoluted game of chess. In the beginning, how foolish your company thought, should you make it behind enemy lines that you would become kings. It didn’t take long to realize it didn’t work that way. That eyes cast up to the heavens stayed that way, glassy and unseeing in their swift death.

Your eyes weren’t adept at seeing anymore. Your helmet made the world dark and despairing, a fitful mirror to the fruitlessness of this Worthless War. It was a war of pride, not a war of glory. By the time you entered the fray, any semblance of morality had long fled; back to the homeland where praises were sung of a warrior’s valor and the duty of the sword. There was no honor in this place.

Except.

You met him when a stab to the side, under the chink of your chain mail made you kneel. In the centre of the battlefield, you knelt there, statuesque and unseeing. Was it your time to die? Maybe. You were so tired. This war has taken everything from you. You could still see the face of your dear sweet Lucasta*, rosy faced and bright, cheerful and kind. You had not kissed for she was chaste, but you held her hands tender as a newborn babe and bid her farewell.

I will return a hero! You said—what a fool you had been! Young and suckling like a calf to a teat; you knew not what awaited you, young lamb to the slaughter. You knew not of how this war would betray you.

But you felt an arm raise you up.

No words were spoken, only the gleam of his sword in his hand in the sunlight. His helmet was impasse, but his arm that held you felt like warmth, felt like summer, felt like the joy of a child. You leant heavily into him, and he supported you, and took you far away from the battlefield.

It was the first thought you’d had since your mind fell away some time ago. Where are we going? You could ask. Are we advancing? Retreating? How else would you know your place in line? Are you God? If perhaps, you were religious. You weren’t. But maybe you were—if only for the way he sat you squarely down on a rock in some remote and desolate field in some forgotten daydream. Even if the war raged, the clashes of swords and armor not too far off on the horizon, it was a muted murmur this far away. The war but a distant night terror. Your body felt lighter than air, your head clear yet clouded, perhaps it was the dizziness from blood loss.

He didn’t speak, but his hands were verbose. He left your helmet fast to your skull, but pulled you out of your armor, piece by piece. What an intimate ritual—you oft used to think of undressing Lucasta when the two of you were finally wed should you make it back from this war. From her corset and over skirts, to her chemise, her stockings; to unearth what bounty lay beneath cotton coverings, just the same as he unlatched your breastplate. Cool hands spread across your collar and chest, then came to the side just underneath your arm where blood, thick and viscous, stuck like molasses to your skin.

Where he retrieved water when rations were low, you didn’t know. For so long you have just been some spectral floating thing; only manifesting as a sword for your general to wield. But now you felt horribly human; your mouth dry with thirst and caked with dirt and grime and the sins of taking life after life. Heaven knew no prayers would wash you clean, but he did. He washed your wound and dressed it as best he could. He ripped pieces and pieces of his own spare shirt and wrapped them round and round your body, pressing until the blood stopped. Until the blood rushed from your head south at the novelty of another’s touch, never mind the touch was a man. This was the touch of your savior; your holiness, your shining grace given from Lucasta’s Lord above.

“W…” You managed to croak, and he stopped his ministrations. If you had hydration enough for tears, perhaps you would’ve shed them. Don’t stop. You wanted to say. Those glorious touches that reminded you that you were alive and a soul and part of this world. “Why…” Your voice was no louder than a field mouse.

Behind his helmet, he didn’t say a thing. Not a grunt, not a hum, not a word. He only kept dressing your wound. Round and round he twirled those makeshift bandages, and you imagined Lucasta on your long awaited wedding day, twirling in your arms as the blushing bride she ought to be. But here, and bare, and carnal, you felt you ought to be the bride. Why shouldn’t you receive such tenderness of a strong hand to your lips or touch to your brow? Why shouldn’t you linger in this comforting daydream where you were just a man, and the knight dressing you was another, and in the hay of this little barn of innocence you sullied it with passions that Lucasta’s God would blush at?

You gripped his hands, hissing as he bade you stand. It was always easier to suit standing. When he returned the chinks of your breastplate and tightened it fast, it was every deceleration of love you could ever hear. It was a proposal, a wedding, devotion divine. You took his hand. He gave you your sword. He led you back to the battlefield. Your thoughts returned lifeless, but when he took his place next to you in formation, your mind bloomed with flowers; roses and daffodils and forget-me-nots; an endless springtime where he knew your scars and perhaps, you knew his.

And as all evils do, the Worthless War drew to a close.

There was no grand finale. No heroes of lore or legend were born out of this war. You stood at the foothills of your hometown, with nothing but a small ration, and a few bits of coins for the trouble of it all.

You returned to Lucasta. She knew the light in your eyes dimmed. She spoke to you of the wedding, of babies, of summertime—but your life was paused; ever stuck and transfixed at that moment he took you aside to patch your wound. Suspended in that one shred of humanity that you felt in that moment, and the lingering warmth that you felt after, for the days and weeks until the war came to an end. He never spoke, but he was always by your side, and you fastly to his.

Your head was bare, but your soul never took off its helmet. At night, you lay awake with Lucasta’s head pressed delicately to your chest, dreaming of the metallic hiss of his breath in and out as he undressed your soul.

some footnotes:

* = the name Lucasta i lifted from the 17th century poet Richard Lovelace as the meaning is “pure light”. in this piece Lucasta serves two roles: as the bride to be the protagonist has waiting back home, but also represents his innocence that the war has taken from him. how even though he’s returned home and has his former life waiting for him how he can never truly regain that innocence.

#ren writing #still thinking about knights and so this came out #i’m kinda obsessed with it #short stories tag #<- ig #s: worthless war

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itsclydebitches · 7 months

Text

BG3 Fic Prompts

I am once again creating a massive document of fics I want to write, to be updated whenever. This is 50% me keeping track of ideas, 25% giving the fandom ideas if they want to steal, and 25% pure entertainment.

“She looks like she could throw me over her shoulder and carry me to safety.” Six times Karlach carried a party member and one time the whole group returned the favor. Bonus points if carrying her is pre-insulation upgrade so they have to get creative and/or sacrificial about it.

Similarly, Karlach/Character of Choice in a Pushing Daisies-esque situation, except on steroids. It’s not just that they can’t touch her, they’ll actively burn themselves if they get too close (so no easy kiss-through-Saran-Wrap solutions). They make it work though through the power of love, magic, and a fuck-ton of stubbornness. Ideas can differ greatly depending on who the partner of choice is. Example: Lae’zel toughing it out while Shadowheart curses and sprints to heal her; Astarion leaning into his flirty cad side: “Gale? Summon me a mage hand so I can slap that ass.”

Because the Gale romance bug remains one of my favorite things: angsty fic where he—in true BG3 fashion—misinterprets the most basic, bare-bones decency as love because he’s a) been groomed by a goddess since he was a boy and then abandoned by her in a way that makes him feel completely worthless and b) locked in a tower for a year+ with only his cat for company. Writer’s choice whether this results in Tav rejecting Gale and leaving him with the bittersweet realization that they may not Love him, but they do love him and this helps forward Gale’s recovery. OR

Narrator: Lying awake that night, you think back on your talk with Gale. He looked so handsome in the candlelight, even while devastated by your rejection, and you dwell on how unfortunate it is that you don’t return his romantic feelings.

Hmm…or do you?

Oh dear.

That Githyanki egg is going to hatch if it’s the last thing I do, even if it’s only in fic. Cue the absolute chaos of this found family/polycule parenting. You’d think Lae’zel would be some help in this but no. She’s not. She’s really, really not. (Doctor McCoy voice: “I’m a warrior not a creche tender!”) What do they feed the thing? Who gets to decide their name? How young is too young to start teaching them to wield a dagger? Spoilers: Withers is a surprisingly good babysitter and the only one with a braincell to draw on.

Wyll: I want a baby

Astarion: Give me a week. What color?

Tav, walking in with acid burns and a panicked Lae’Zel: You got green

More Gale angst because I’m trash: Yeah, yeah literally everyone in this party is hella touch-starved but this boy has a year of isolation on top of a kicked puppy personality hidden under that arrogant bravado. Astarion plays his needs off with charm and a supposed obsession with sex, Wyll and Karlach distract with cheer, Shadowheart and Lae’zel stoically power through… and then there’s Gale who’s going to get teary-eyed at the first clasp of his shoulder. Character of Choice gives him a hug one night and he just breaks. Full on sobbing, hyperventilating, holy-shit-this-is-embarrassing-but-now-that-I’ve-started-I-can’t-stop breakdown that’s exactly what he needs. Halsin might be a good choice for this.

Forced Lae’zel / Shadowheart bonding via the specific experience of two abused ex-cult members figuring out what kindness looks like.

Lae’zel: Tchk. I failed our leader in battle and they say only, ‘We’ll try again next time’? If this were a githyanki camp my blood would have dyed their armor red tonight.

Shadowheart: Indeed. The disciples of Lady Shar never would have stood for such indolence. There are no beatings for failing to rise with the sun and no one monitoring our rations. Gale gave me thirds last night!

Lae’zel: Why then do I… prefer this weakness?

Shadowheart: Worse, why do I agree with you?

I want to give my companions presents! Six times Tav gives a party member something they love—a githyanki tablet for Lae’zel, good wine for Wyll, etc.—and one time they give Tav something back. Or, alternatively, one time Tav refrains from giving a gift and the recipient ends up appreciating that even more. Example: not letting Shadowheart get ahold of any Dark Justiciar armor.

Obligatory “Astarion is insecure about not being able to see his reflection and someone helps him with magic/drawing” fic that I may or may not be working on atm.

Equally obligatory The Last Unicorn reference where Asatrion has a rage-driven breakdown, screaming at Tav for not being this selfless hero when he needed them. Everyone ignores the realities that, you know, Tav probably hadn’t even been born yet, because they understand that Astarion just needs to Let It Out. This segues into reassurances that they’ll be there for Astarion in the future. End fic. Sike! Plot twist. The party winds up in the past due to plot shenanigans and are like, “Holy shit. We can rescue Astarion.” Except it turns out they can’t because that would totally fuck with the timeline (idk if that’s actually the case in D&D. I just watch a lot of Doctor Who), but they’re at least able to assist him in some small way/comfort him/give him hope for the next 100+ years. They wind up back in their own time where Astarion suddenly realizes that the absolutely insane, weird-as-balls group he met a century ago and whose kindness he's been leaning his sanity on is his group and there are ~emotions~.

Hurt/Comfort Bloodweave fic where Astarion, as the rogue, does the best job of finding (read: stealing) items for Gale to feed on. He’s really good at it, to the point that when they get together he starts to fear that’s the main reason why Gale is ‘bothering’ to stay with him. After all, what the hells else does he have to offer? Especially now that he’s pulling back from sex as a primary incentive? Someone loving Astarion for who he is? Absurd. Someone needing Astarion’s talents to keep themselves fed? That he understands. That’s familiar. Cue Gale cycling through obliviousness (necessary intervention from another party member?), horror, and finally reassurance.

Wyll teaches the party to dance one night when they’re all bored. Bonus points if Astarion is insulted af because his moves from two centuries ago aren’t cool anymore. Bonus bonus points if Withers turns out to be really good.

Honestly, I feel like we’ve been sleeping on Withers in general. Granted, I haven’t finished the game yet so I’m sure there’s stuff that hasn’t been revealed to me yet, but he’s a skeleton that randomly appears in your camp, makes himself at home, changes reality for you provided you've got the funds, tuts about your love life, and is surprisingly good with kids. There’s so much potential in that.

“I hate this place. I want to go to Build a Bear!” Total crack fic featuring the Faerûn equivalent of Build a Bear: a kindly toymaker with lots of simple stuffed animals that he’ll personalize for you with clothes, accessories, embroidery, etc. Karlach has the time of her life (as does everyone else, even if they won’t admit it).

#BG3 #Baldur's Gate 3 #BG3 prompts #BG3 fic prompts #Astarion #Gale #Karlach #shadowheart #lae'zel #Wyll #bloodweave

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earlgodwin · 1 month

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Do you associate songs with fictional characters? Also if you could ask The Borgia cast any questions about their characters do you know what they would be? 🩷

"do you associate songs with fictional characters?"

the funny thing is, i didn't discover the concept of associating songs with characters until recent years! because back in the day, i wasn't doing it, and i didn't know why at first since everyone was doing it. but i realized it just happens when you get deeply invested in characters lol

so, i used to be (and still, tbh) obsessed with a song called 'once' by brad kane. it's about change, loss, and the yearning for redemption for someone the narrator once knew as cheerful and full of life.

i found out about it after seeing a supernatural edit about dean winchester in that arc where he became a demon and his emotions became dark. he forgot all his memories, and his brother was trying to get him back, never giving up on him even though it was painful witnessing him slip further and further away. and after watching the borgias and getting to know juan's character, and seeing him go from a sweet and bizarrely charming but arrogantly cocky little guy to being depressed, lonely, and sad with a downward spiral, it left me no choice but to associate the song with him. coincidentally, i found out later that someone already made a juan edit with it, so basically, a lot of us agree it is the juan song (although the song is more like for everyone who's ever felt alone and wondered if there is actually anyone out there to help them get through life. but juan was pretty much alone, and no one from his family even cared to reach out since he was lost)

"if you could ask the borgias cast any questions about their characters do you know what they would be?"

i would ask holliday grainger about what lucrezia would've said or done if she knew that the way juan childishly behaves towards her is because he's in love with her, and not because he doesn't want to see her happy (since that's what she truly believes, which is the wrong idea). i would also ask david to dive deep and provide insights about juan's complex feelings towards lucrezia and cesare. i mean, i know that he has resentment towards cesare because he's aware that cesare is the one rodrigo relies on and is better at being a leader than juan will ever be. but he also resents the fact that cesare doesn't love him or view him as an equal. according to david's last interview about the show, he mentioned that having a bond with cesare is something that juan 'always wanted'. also, juan feels very sorry for lucrezia after what he has done to her (killing paolo) but childishly not wanting to admit he has done her wrong, believing he was protecting her while being driven by jealousy over seeing her with a lover, let alone being a peasant who would bring scandals to the family. juan has so many misguided notions, misunderstood tenderness, confusion, and frustration. so, i would really like to hear david go on about it for hours and explain what he means when he said that juan wanted to be involved in lucrezia and cesare's affair.

#lil always coming up with the best questions #juan and his feelings for his siblings will always be the most fascinating thing i've ever encountered in media #the borgias #lucrezia borgia #juan borgia #cesare borgia #the borgia siblings #holliday grainger #david oakes #messasges #mihrsuri

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hellcatinnc · 2 months

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Fluffruary Day 20 - Lover's Lyrics

(Song)

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Warning This includes: SFW (Read Tags Before Continuing)

Tags: sfw, fluff, light hearted, romance, karaoke, singing, love, giddy, concert, music, writing songs, first date

Word Count: 1,590

Feature: Luka Couffaine x Fem! Reader

Theme: Song

@fluffruaryprompts

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You happened to get tickets to Jagged Stone's concert with some friends. It was ok music but you weren't the biggest fan however a night out sounded like a plan. There was a word there were a few opening bands so you were hopeful. The place was packed and everyone was screaming and cheering as an opening band played it was enjoyable. Then this man walked out with such a aura about him that made you take notice. He started playing and singing, you literally felt your heart melt, his voice was so tender and soft. His lyrics spoke to your heart, its like he wrote the words for you. It was a song that was based on a broken heart that you were sure he had because there was too much emotion in his lyrics not to have. You were so pulled into this man that you hadn't even noticed the tears that were starting to stream down your face, mixing with you mascara but they were true tears. You felt like for that moment your heart connected to this man, you had to know him. You were shocked that your friends told you it was Jagged Stone's son, Luka.

You were in so awe as he walked off the stage you made your way through the crowd towards the offstage walkway was. You got there the guards held you back you decided to try, since you saw him walking you screamed his name and he turned around. As he walked back towards where you were with the guards. "Please can I have a moment of your time, your song talked to me. It was beautiful and painful at the same time, I know that emotion so much." He reached his hand out letting the guards know it was ok. He walked you back to his dressing room with him, he was still holding your hand it gave you butterflies. As you stepped into his dressing room it was pretty basic it was when you realized he wasn't a flashy star which is why he probably let you back in the first place.

You sit down as he does too. He smiled at you and with the most softest voice he began to speak to you. "So you know the pain of losing someone that you never really had a chance with. I hate you felt that pain I would never wish it on anyone." You could literally tell it was something that hurt him more than he would say. You reached out touching his hand and giving him a smile. He didn't even act like a star his personality, his mellowness it was like he sang for the passion not the fame or money. This is what made him different than any other singer. You gave him a smile "If you want to talk about yours we can, and I will tell you about mine." He nodded, you could tell he let it stay in his heart he wasn't one that would bring others down with his issues he was just the guy everyone else went to instead.

This started a beautiful friendship. You sat and talked, laughed, and even cried for several hours. There was so much you understood in him as he did you as well. His father eventually came around telling him was time to go. You both had lost track of time. You knew he was a music start you were happy with what you got tonight not expecting anything more until he handed you his phone telling you to put your number in. You were so surprised and giggled a bit as you handed your phone to him. After sharing the numbers he smiled at you and waved as you left. You stepped outside and leaned against the wall, he really was a guy you would love to get to know. You closed your eyes knowing he could be a guy you could fall for easy. Your heart was beating so fast but you were happy in the moment. You started to chuckle as you walked down the hall holding your phone with his name and number on the screen, then sliding it into your pocket, you couldn't wait to get to know Luka alot more.

You made it home that night a bit light hearted then your phone vibrated and it was him. His text was very clear he wanted to see you again and you just stood there staring at your phone in a trance. You felt the grin that slowly came across your face, you were giddy with excitement and texted back wanting to know when and where. It was going to be a karaoke date the next night, even though he was a singer he heard you loud and clear when you said you loved to sing. It was so sweet, however you wanted to know if it was a date but were too nervous to ask so you were going to treat it as if it was. You ended your night in such a happy mood, you were really glad you went to that concert.

Next day came and you coasted through your day at work and with friends counting down the hours til you could see him again. Even after only one night of talking there was just something about him that made you want to get to know him and see if there could really be something there. You hoped he felt the same as you do in seeing where it could go. You dug through your closet to find the perfect thing to wear then grabbed a shower. When you were done doing your hair and make up you realized you still had a hour but you were determined not to be late so you headed out. After taking a taxi, dealing with traffic you still got there with 20 minutes to spare. You got out of the cab paying for it then your phone vibrated. You checked it and it was him, you found yourself standing there with a stupid grin on your face. Then you read the text that he was telling you how lovely you looked, at this point you turned back seeing him standing there.

You were so embarrassed that he saw how eager you were for his text and your stupid grin turned into your cheeks blushing hard now. You weren't sure which was more embarrassing as he saw how you acted or the fact he told you that you looked lovely. He walked over putting his hand out for you to take, you bit your bottom lip then bashfully took his hand to walk inside with him. He stopped to hold the door for you then took hold of your hand again. There was no doubt he was treating this as a date, it made you so happy because there was something definitely between you two that was pretty unspoken. You both had been hurt with rejection however you were taking this slow but it made it all worth it every sweet little moment it was like being in school falling in love again with someone. He had this all planned out and you didn't have a clue til everything fell into place.

He stepped up on the stage for karaoke when it was his turn but he reached out for your hand wanting you to sing with him. You didn't feel like you were on the same level but you did love to sing so you stepped up on stage with him. Then he handed you a piece of paper with lyrics on it. You look at the title and its called Lover's Lyrics by Luka Couffaine then it said written for y/a. It all sunk in he wrote you a song, a song about your two, about how he was feeling when he was with you. Your gaze met his as he smiled at you, your heart almost stopped in the moment. He started playing his guitar, he started serenading you with the beautiful lyrics he wrote for you. When it was your part you started singing a bit off tune but he didn't seem to care. Everyone in the place didn't much care either because it was evident as you two stood on that stage singing to each other no one else existed any more. You two were falling in love right there in the song that put both of your hearts out there.

As the song came to and end he pulled you into him and leaned in kissing your lips so softly. You closed your eyes wrapping your arms around the back of his neck holding on tight. The kiss grew deeper as the whole audience was cheering and whistling on. Your giddy feeling had went from that to pure happiness, there was no doubt you were falling in love with him and he was falling for you as well. This was the day your heart fell for a man that you still couldn't understand why someone would reject. You were thankful this friend he had Marinette because she pushed him right into your arms in the end. Just like your ex best friend did the same he pushed you into Luka's arms in the end. You couldn't wait to see how life would be with him being your boyfriend which he did ask after that kiss and of course you agreed, he was the best thing that had ever happened to you.

#fluffruary2024 #Fluffruary #day 20 #Fluffruary day 20 #Fluffruary Song #Fluffruary day 20 Song #creative writing #sfw #fan fic #fan fiction #fluffruary #fluff #headcanons #alt song #Lovers Lyrics #luka couffaine #luka x reader #miraculous ladybug #miraculous lb

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slafkovskys · 2 months

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Petey and princess are my fav🥹 I know sports aren’t her thing and she basically just goes to games to support Elias and I think he would be so appreciative of her for that cuz he knows that’s not her thing

she goes to where cute outfits and cheer on her man, period. don’t ask her what happened because she’s probably eating her chicken tenders, drinking wine, and making her notorious ootg post and- oop! petey scored again! she does know what that means.

#peteyxprincess

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uselessundertalefacts · 2 years

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Undertale September Day 7 - Papyrus

aka more gratuitous breaking bad references

“THIS IS SO EXCITING!!!” Papyrus was levitating a few inches off the ground next to Undyne. His Kenny Rogers shirt was comically oversized. “FINALLY!!! I WILL PATRONIZE A DENNY’S!!!”

“Hell yeah!!!!!” Undyne cheered along. “So what’s a Denny’s?”

“IT IS THE SIBLING TO ‘WAFFLE HOUSE’,” Papyrus explained. “A PLACE OF RESPITE FOR AMERICAN HUMANS, IN THEIR TIMES OF GREATEST NEED! I LEARNED ALL ABOUT IT FROM TV.”

“Hold on! You said we were getting pancakes.”

“THEY HAVE PANCAKES!”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Undyne started sprinting towards the building, Papyrus racing to catch up.

They burst into the entrance, where a tired-looking human escorted them to a booth. Papyrus ordered a glass of milk and started bouncing on the cushioned seats. Undyne ordered a cup of tea in the local variety.

“Dunno what Liptons is,” she said cheerfully, “but I’ll try it out.”

“THAT’S WHAT I LOVE ABOUT YOU, UNDYNE!” Papyrus shouted. A few other humans glared at him, so he shouted a little more quietly. “YOUR ADVENTUROUS SPIRIT!”

“Haha, thanks, dude,” said Undyne. She started fiddling with the menu.

“AH YES! THESE MENUS ARE SOMETHING, AREN’T THEY?” Papyrus picked it up and wiggled it in the air, making a loud wobbling sound like laminated paper.

“Hah, you think THAT’S good?” Undyne wiggled her menu so hard that it burst into flames. Papyrus quickly extinguished it with his scarf.

“Excuse me!” The waitress came running to the booth, then stopped suddenly when all evidence of the fire vanished. “Uh…. Are you ready to order?”

“TWO GRAND SLAMS, PLEASE!” Papyrus handed her the menu. “EXCELLENT WORK ON THESE MENUS, BY THE WAY!”

Undyne grinned. “And pancakes for me, please! Piping hot!”

“GRAND SLAM HAS PANCAKES, UNDYNE!”

“Oh, okay! That, please!” The waitress nodded and fled the area, saying something about bringing their drinks soon. Undyne looked back at Papyrus, her smile a little more strained. “Nice human, eh?”

“I WILL NEVER UNDERSTAND WHY THEY’RE SO SCARED OF FIRE…”

Undyne sighed. “Well. It’s nice to hang out again, anyway.”

“I KNOW, RIGHT?” Papyrus whisper-yelled. “AMBASSADOR BUSINESS IS REWARDING, BUT I MISS OUR DAILY TRAINING SESSIONS! WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN UP TO?”

“Oh, you know,” laughed Undyne awkwardly. “Normal things. Like… throwing rocks. Dating my girlfriend. Cool stuff!” She picked up a handful of salt packets and started fidgeting with them.

“SOUNDS FUN!”

“Yeah, sure,” said Undyne. “Basically just as important as working with human politicians.”

“HEY!” Papyrus slammed his hands onto the table. “EVERYONE STILL LOVES YOU, UNDYNE! EVEN WITHOUT THE ROYAL GUARD!”

“Hah. Thanks, man.”

“LISTEN,” said Papyrus, in something more like a whisper than a whisper-shout. “IN THE UNDERGROUND, DO YOU KNOW WHY PEOPLE LOOKED UP TO YOU?”

“‘Cause I can smash boulders with my teeth?”

“NO! WELL, YES! BUT MOSTLY BECAUSE OF YOUR KINDNESS!” Papyrus smiled earnestly. “YOU HAVE SO MUCH LOVE IN YOUR HEART FOR EVERY MONSTER! EVERY TIME YOU SAW A CHILD, YOU’D GIVE THEM A PIGGYBACK RIDE! YOU WERE MY- I MEAN, YOU WERE ONE OF MY MANY FRIENDS!”

“Aww, Papyrus…”

“AND NONE OF THAT HAS CHANGED!” Papyrus took Undyne’s hand and squeezed it. “NO MATTER WHAT YOUR JOB IS, YOU ARE STILL AN INSPIRATION TO ALL OF US!!!”

Undyne covered her face with her free hand. “Dude, you’re being so mushy right now.”

The waitress came with two glasses and two plates loaded with breakfast food. Papyrus gave the waitress a thumbs up and a handful of gold pieces. Even if they weren’t legal tender, humans seemed to like them.

“OKAY!” Papyrus grabbed his silverware. “NOW YOU TAKE A PICTURE OF ME EATING AND ASK ME WHAT THE FUCK I’M TALKING ABOUT!”

#undertaleseptember #undertale september #undertale fic #my fic #papyrus #Undyne #they’re important to me…

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