#fic reblog

[jeonride]

welcome to my reading list of minghao ficts!i'm actually so sad that i can't find more...

FICTS ! ✧*。

Avant-Garde (fluff, college au, painter!hao) by @hoyoungy

Glacial Pace (smut, friends to lovers) by @wonusite

Home Yet? (smut, established relationship) by @idyllicdeco

Felix Felicis (fluff, slytherin!minghao) by @blue-jisungs

Rush Hour (smut, enemies to lovers) by @lovelyhan

Attracted to You (smut) by @cheolhub

All Mine (smut) by @cheolhub

F* Me, Emo Boy (smut) @sunnylovespickles

Chèrie (smut, duke!minghao) by @venerex

Art Project (smut, fluff) by @1-800-hwahui

Monitor Me (smut, camboy!minghao) by @sunnylovespickles

Deadly Sin (smut, horror, demon!minghao) by @onlymingyus

Longing of a Noble's Daughter (smut, angst, royal au) by @sunnylovespickles

Oh, My! (smut) by @toruro

Now or Never The Series (smut) @heartkyeom

Bloody Kisses (smut, vampire!minghao) by @duhnova

Once Bitten (smut, contains blood) by @sluttywonwoo

Blocked Contacts (fluff, jealous hao) by @jae-bummer

Kiss Me Thru The Phone (smut) by @number1mingyustan

Wild With You (smut) by @beahae

Dress, Preview (smut) by @ally-127

Erotic Humiliation (smut) by @bitchlessdino

Wildest Dreams (smut, angst, moviestar!hao) by @rubyreduji

Zen (fluff, smut) by @playmetheclassics

Coffee at Christmas (fluff, smut) by @sluttyminghao

Playing Cupid (smut) by @sluttywonwoo

04.18 am (fluff, smut, pianist!minghao) by @number1mingyustan

Fixer Upper (smut, friends to lovers) by @seungkwansphd

Tamed Studies (minghao x male!reader) @flwrboi

Paint Me in Gold (fluff, semi royal, ghost au) by @starryse

Take it Like a Good Girl (smut, ft.mingyu) by @pussy-potions

Home for The Holidays (fluff, smut) by @bangchanswolfpelt

Wrong Turn (smut, vampire!minghao) by @meltwonu

Leave it On The Runway (smut, model!hao) by @kpop-hive

Galaxies Away (romance, angst, nerd!hao) by @dianalikecats

A Thousand Words Left Unsaid (angst, heartbreak) by @twogyuu

The Party Chronicles (smut) by @bitchlessdino

Thank You (smut, ft.jun) by @peachybun-bun

DRABBLES / SCENARIOS ! ✧*。

just minghao's hands appreciation (posted by @uremoangel)

minghao de-stress you with oral (fluff, smut) by @nsfwhao

soft sex (fluff, smut) by @toruro

please (smut) by @pussy-potions

kinktober drabble (smut, minghao is a sex store worker) by @sluttyminghao

fucking + praising (fluff, smut) by @gfcheol

aftercare (nsfw-ish, soft) by @gfcheol

flying & fucking (smut) by @toruro

minghao as pussy slapper (smut) by @toruro

hard dom!hao + spanking (smut) by @onlyhuis

accidental stimulation (fluff, smut) by @wildfluwer

one more time (fluff, smut) by @onlymingyus

hao kissing your tears during sex (fluff) by @toruro

light-feather praises (nsfw) by @venerex

bedtime tea (fluff, comfort) by @venerex

how i'd do? (smut) by @onlymingyus

[20:13] (filthy, iykyk) by @trash-hours

on your knees (smut) by @multi-kpop-fanfics

passionate sex (smut) by @sluttywonwoo

slow down, look at me (smut) by @jeongwife

freakily good with his hands (smut)

corruption kink (smut) 2nd ver

fingering (smut, fluff tho)

you have to be quiet (smut)

when it's cold outside (fluff)

that's sick ! (fluff)

fucking with your hands tied (smut)

want to see cherry blossoms (fluff)

let me take care of you (fluff, comfort)

hurry up (smut, sub!minghao)

jealous sex (smut)

minghao's kinks headcanon (nsfw)

horny dom!hao (nsfw)

fucking with racer!minghao (smut)

art exhibition (smut)

a-z nsfw with minghao

drawing body paint on your thighs (nsfw)

sucking his on kitchen counter (nsfw)

daddy sugar!minghao (smut)

my muse (smut, sub!minghao)

paparazzi!minghao (smut)

smut, 3.5k- yeah, that's it.

wake up early (very fluff, also smut)

blade of hearts (smut)

butterfly (fluff, smut)

sir!minghao (smut)

last (implied mature themes)

maniac (smut)

wanna hold your hand (smut, fluff)

#minghao smut #the8 smut #the8 fluff #seventeen the8 #minghao #seventeen fanfic #reading #fic reblog

[distortionbobble]

Royal Flowers Chapter 9

prev | next

series masterlist

summary: y’all know the drill now

series warnings: eventual smut, mentions of death, palpy

a/n: oops

Anakin forgot how beautiful Coruscant is. He can’t recall the exact number of months he’s been away; he stopped keeping track of time around you, but it’s enough to make his skin buzz at the feeling of Coruscant’s humidity. He’s not staying in the Jedi Temple, which is unusual enough to him, but is instead staying with you in the diplomatic lodgings provided by the Senate. It’s strange; he spent every night since he left Coruscant by your side, sleeping next to you, but now that he’s here, it feels so much more intimate. It could be the size of the bed, it could be the reminder of his responsibility and role of a Jedi here on Coruscant, but whatever it is, his heart skips a beat at the thought of sleeping by your side.

The two of you had reached quietly and checked into your lodgings, with him playing the role of the affectionate husband. You seem to be okay, at least as far as he can tell, but you’re certainly quieter. He’s glad for it, but there’s still some part of him that wants to sweep you into his embrace, pull you tight and shield you from the awful parts of the universe. He doesn’t want to dwell on it for too long, but the desire is inescapable. He still doesn’t know what it is that you, Padme, and Obi-Wan had discussed. All you’d said was that Padme had heard something that meant there wasn’t much time left. He’s watching you now from the corner of the room, scanning the room constantly for any threats.

“It feels like it has been too long since I was in Coruscant,” Anakin says finally. It doesn’t feel like his home anymore, and that scares him. No, home in his mind is now back in the Royal Chambers of Naboo, spending every waking moment with you.

“I’m sure. I apologize for the nature of my mission, it must be hard to be away from home for so long,” You say, turning to smile at him. “But hopefully it’ll be over soon, yes?” You say with a hopeful smile. The thought of leaving you twists a knife in Anakin’s gut, but it’s one that he’s learned to accept. It’s always there, always looming, and the only thing left for Anakin to do now is get used to the dagger in his stomach. He’ll have to leave you, sooner or later. But that doesn’t make the thought of it any less painful.

“Anakin… about your friendship with Chancellor Palpatine,” you speak to him from the seat of the vanity as you get your hair ready for bed. “We—“

“He’s a good man,” Anakin snaps at you before you can say anything negative about his friend. Chancellor Palpatine has guided him through so much, and he can’t imagine where he’d be without him.

“I didn’t say he wasn’t,” you respond coolly. “What makes you think I’d say otherwise?”

Anakin hesitates before he sits down on the bed, mesmerized by your elegant movements. “In the past, both Padme and Obi-Wan have cast their doubts about him. But I can’t imagine the idea of their suspicions panning out to be anything. He’s an honorable man, even if they don’t like it.” You nod quietly, and he can’t gauge a thought in your head before you rise and flip the covers to get into the bed.

“I believe you, Anakin. If that’s the case, I think your friend deserves to know you’re still alive, right?” You ask him quietly, laying down sideways. Your statement makes him pause. He should tell Sheev, shouldn’t he? But that would make it all so real, the ending of this. And you look like an angel born of the earth, like the muse of all things beautiful, and he almost wants to say he doesn’t want to tell him, just so he can keep the farce of being yours up for just a little longer. But the feelings spark such shame within him that he just nods, his throat dry, and lays down next to you.

As he sits there in the darkness, listening keenly to the slowing of your breathing, steady and quiet, he realizes something. Nothing in this universe is guaranteed. He is promised nothing by the universe, and he’s seen it countless times; his mother, ripped away from him, the other younglings at the Order rejecting him. But the universe has guaranteed one certainty; when he’s next to you, he can sleep peacefully.

~~~

“Chancellor,” your voice floats above the din of the Senators as you address the man. “If I might borrow your attention?”

“For the Queen of Naboo, my attention is yours to own,” Chancellor Palpatine jests, coming to stand by your side. “Milady, I must ask… what brings you to Coruscant, and to the Senate, no less?”

You allow your painted lips to form just a hint of a smile. You have a thin line to walk now—if he’s a Separatist, of which there is only a slim chance, he can’t think that you truly want to help your people. But if he’s not, you still hold a responsibility to your people. “My people feel as though the urgency of the Separatist threat is not being handled with urgency. I come as a representative for Naboo in order to request the Republic have a stronger role in protecting Naboo… however, I know that our forces get so busy. It’s a shame, isn’t it?” You say, echoing the words that Darth Sidioius had spoken to you before.

Chancellor Palpatine’s face remains a smooth, unmoving mask in response to your words. A little too smooth. Either he’s a horrible chancellor, or you were right to have your suspicions. But you can’t act on inaction. You cough, deciding to move on. “I suppose I shouldn’t delay it much longer. But… Chancellor, keep it a secret, will you?”

“Keep what a secret, Milady?” He asks, tailing you as you stride into one of the nearby conference rooms.

“My husband wished to see you,” You smile, stepping to the side as the door eases shut. Anakin is standing before the glass, soft light catching his hair. At the sound of the door, Anakin turns around with a smile.

“My old friend,” He says, striding over to embrace Chancellor Palpatine.

“I thought— Oh, Anakin, I thought you were dead!” He sputters, embracing Anakin back. “Why the farce? Please, you must tell me everything.” He lets go of Anakin and takes a seat at the long table. Whatever suspicions you may have of him, his excitement and relief of seeing Anakin, alive, does feel authentic. Perhaps he is innocent, and your suspicions are entirely misdirected. But that’s not something you can take a chance on. Nonetheless, you’ll give the two their space.

“I’ll leave the two of you to reconnect,” You say with a smile, tenderly stroking the side of Anakin’s face before you leave the room.

“I know,” Anakin says before the Chancellor can speak. “It must seem so confusing to you. But it’s better this way. I couldn’t bear the thought of going through the process of leaving, announcing my intent to leave and bringing such shame upon my former Masters. And because of my importance, I don’t imagine they’d let me go so easily. My skill in the Force is unmatched by any other Jedi I’ve seen. But…”

“You’re in love with her,” Chancellor Palpatine finishes. Anakin smiles wistfully, swallowing the guilt of lying to his friend. But he needs to sell this. Palpatine also cannot know that you were stationed there to protect you, but he deserves to know you’re alive. Plus, you have some sort of idea that he can help you in uncovering the truth. And Anakin trusts you.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before,” Anakin responds, tilting his head back and closing his eyes as the image of you fills his head. The faint smell of jasmine in your hair, the shape of your nose, your lips, the softness of your cheek in his hand and the way you look at him. You look at him like you see him for him, and still trust him. It puts all the rage in his body to rest. He may need to sell this to Sheev, but Anakin’s not sure it’s entirely an act. You do make him feel safe. At the same time, you make his heart race with each little quip you make. You challenge him, frustrate him, and he needs you with him, always. You’ve taught him to love without attachment, the true Jedi way, because he knows he can never truly have you. You’re not his to love.

Sheev smiles. “Young love. It is such a beautiful thing, to be free of the restraints that others have placed upon you and to be able to accept that without guilt.” A bitterness sits in Anakin’s throat as he smiles. If only his friend knew how much he longs for that.

“Well, it would be a shame for your powers to go to waste,” the Chancellor says. “I do hope you find something worthy of it being used. The Force has blessed you, and I believe that you’ll be able to achieve even greater things without the Jedi Order shackling you with all their rules.” His lined face lights up in a smile before he places a hand gently on Anakin’s shoulder, catching Anakin’s eyes as he heads back to the Senate. “But perhaps that’s a conversation for another day. Until then, Anakin.”

“Until then,” Anakin echoes.

~~~

Anakin can hear you screaming. He doesn’t realize it’s you at first; he’s too busy looking at Padme. She’s sobbing, tears rolling down her face as she tries to say something to him. He can’t make out the words, can’t hear them coming out of her mouth. All he feels, all he sees is pain. He’s surrounded by it. Always has been, always will be. And the sound of your screaming, shrieking, drowns out any sound that Padme makes. He tries to turn to you, tries to see where you are but Padme grabs his jaw and turns him back to her. Her nails are digging into his skin and it hurts, it hurts but he just wants you to stop screaming. You’re in pain, he’s in pain, and none of it will stop. Padme’s touch grows hotter and hotter on his skin until he’s sobbing, the heat of it scorching as fire begins to light upon her skin. It engulfs her dress, spreading to her hair, until she lets go. He doesn’t hesitate to run to your voice, the sound of your screaming where you lay there, your body limp as you struggle against something he can’t see.

“Help me,” You beg him, reaching towards him. “Please, Anakin, help me,” You plead. Your fingertips begin to unravel into little tendrils of smoke, reaching towards him as more and more of your body is taken by the smoke.

“No,” He whispers, trying to grab the smoke, holding your body as it disintegrates in his very hands. “No!”

“Anakin,” Your voice cuts through his visions. He wakes up with a start, sweat making strands of hair stick to his forehead. He looks at you with bleary eyes, sitting straight in the bed as you look at him in concern. “Hey. Are you okay? You were talking in your sleep,” You say, sitting up as well. He doesn’t answer, just grabs your wrist and shuts his eyes at the feel of your pulse.

“Hey, it’s okay,” You say. “It was just a bad dream,” You say gently. Anakin feels sick. He’s supposed to feel safe next to you. It’s been months since he had a vision like this, months of blissfully quiet sleep. He was so sure it was because of you. Maybe you’re not close enough. Or maybe it’s this damned place. Anakin leans into you, circling his arms around you and pulling you tightly to his chest. “Do you want to talk about it?” You ask him, allowing him to hold you as he breathes slowly, working his way out of the darkness of his dream.

“I dreamt I lost you,” He murmurs into the crown of your head, squeezing you tightly as he remembers the feel of your lifeless body. “The worst part of it is I know I’m gonna lose you anyways. You’re going to be gone, soon enough, and I’ll have to go through all of this alone, all again.”

“I’m always gonna be your friend,” You reassure him. Your breath meets his bare chest and he’s reassured by the fact that you’re alive.You feel warm, warm and full of life a

“I dreamt that you died,” He says simply. “And I can’t have that happen.” Not again. Not like what happened to his mother.

“Anakin,” You say, pulling yourself off of his chest. “I’m okay. You’re protecting me.”

“But what if there’s something I can’t keep you safe from?” He asks, meeting your eyes. His fear is plain as day, and he knows you could piece together what that means in an instant. Why he’s so fearful of losing you. You matter to him, even if he hasn’t said it.

“If there’s something you can’t keep me safe from, then it’s not your fault. Know that. People die sometimes, even if we do our best to keep them safe from it,” You respond. Your voice is surprisingly even despite the gravity of Anakin’s emotions. He doesn’t understand how he hasn’t dragged you down into the depths of his misery but he’s grateful for the anchor that you provide him. “Anakin, the most important thing is the safety and security of the galaxy. To do the most good for the most people, that is what we are born into this universe to ensure. And if—” your voice breaks, and you lean your head back into his chest. “If I do die under your protection, I will know that you’ll have done your best to keep me safe. But more importantly, I’ll know that you will carry out my work and see to it that those who come after us will see a better place. With me, without me, the universe will move on.”

“I don’t accept that answer,” Anakin frowns, but you just laugh.

“It’s the truth. My life will never be more important than the fate of the universe. But you’re stressing about nothing. I’m here, I’m okay, you’re okay. Just… try and go back to sleep, will you?” You ask, shivering before he draws the blanket above the both of you. He’s never really held you like this before. He isn’t holding you to make your pain stop, he’s holding you to make his pain stop. And he doesn’t want to let you go. But that’s what makes him let go, allowing you to go lay down while he sits up, watching as you fall asleep.

You’re not his to keep, anyways.

#smut #fic reblog #my writing #anakin skywalker x reader #fic #distortionbobble's fics #anakin skywalker #reader insert #anakin x reader #star wars

[katblu42]

Symphony

Been thinking about this one a bit over the last few days, so I thought I'd give it a bit of a re-run.

It's just a bit of fluffy, music-related Earth and Sky.

Scott tore his eyes away from the unread emails, stretched his arms above his head, let out a long breath and turned the chair away from the desk to face Virgil at the piano.

“I like this one.  What’s it called?”

“It doesn’t really have a name.”

“I’ve heard you play it before, though.  Did you write it?”

There was the slightest hint of hesitation in Virgil’s response, although the music never wavered.

“I guess you could say that.  I haven’t ever really thought about notating it.”

“Aren’t you concerned you might forget it?”

A wry smile crept across the musician’s features, but he said nothing. 

“You should write it down.  And come up with a name for it.”

Virgil tilted his head a little by way of considering the notion, then asked “Why do you like it?  What does it make you think of?”

Scott stood, stretching more muscles, letting the music carry his thoughts away from TI paperwork as his gaze drifted upwards.

“Well, I like the way the melody climbs and swirls.  It kind of reminds me of flying.  And there’s a feeling of constant motion, fast, easy – sort of free.”  He closed his eyes for a moment before returning his gaze to his brother.  “In some ways it kinda reminds me of Dad.”

Virgil’s response began with the quirk of an eyebrow and the hint of a smile.

“Funny you should say that . . .”

“Why?  Is it about Dad?”

Virgil finished the last phrase, letting the final chord hang in the air before taking a slow breath and looking up at his big brother.

“No.  It’s you.”

“Me?”  Sapphire eyes widened with surprise bordering on shock, and his forehead creased in puzzlement.  “You wrote a song about me?”

Virgil looked back at the piano. 

“Not exactly.  It’s more like . . .” His gaze drifted upward.  “It’s hard to explain.  It’s sort of how I hear your presence, or your essence or something . . . I don’t know.”  His voice trailed off into mumbles and a shrug.

Scott was left speechless, staring at his brother’s awkward uncertainty, as the significance of his own interpretation of the music and what it represented really hit home.  It took him a moment, and he had to work to bring moisture back into his mouth before he finally found his voice again.

“Do . . .  do you have something like this for all of us?”

Virgil felt the heat of a blush rising in his cheeks, and he didn’t look up from the piano.

“Uh, yeah.  I sort of do.”  His hands drifted back to the keys and a new piece of music began, one with a complimentary theme to Scott’s.  It was in the same key, had the same tempo, and still embodied that sense of soaring movement, but this one felt somehow bigger, more far-reaching – almost heroic.

Scott let out a gasp.  “Is that . . .?  This one is . . . It’s Dad, isn’t it?”

Virgil gave a single nod.

“It fits with yours.  Like the second theme in a sonata-allegro.”  Virgil glanced over at his brother, taking in the blank look at the musical term.  “That’s the usual form for the opening movement of a symphony.”  His eyes drifted closed as he played, and he sighed.  “I can hear them both in counterpoint, but I can’t play both at the same time and do them justice.  I’d need an orchestra for that.”

Dumbfounded at this revelation, Scott could only marvel at his brother’s musicality.  Here he was listening to these amazing musical creations that rendered larger than life, full-colour images in his mind, and Virgil was complaining that what he could do with the piano alone was not enough.  He didn’t think he could even imagine what this music must sound like inside Virgil’s head.

The music came to a stop and Virgil turned again to look up at Scott.

“The variations on these two themes would encompass something like what I hear for Grandma and Kayo, a little of Brains, some of Grandpa . . .” he turned away again, “then everything would come back to you and Dad.”

For a moment silence hung between them.  Virgil’s fingers flexed, as though the music within him was searching for a way out as they reached once again for the piano keys.  A new piece of music began.  This one slower, gentler, quieter in terms of movement if not exactly in terms of volume.  Scott felt this one was more thoughtful and emotional.  It brought to mind light and colour and had a sense of space, but it also somehow felt warm.

“Mom?” The smallest possible upward inflection made it a question, which was answered with another nod and the soft smile that made his little brother look so much like her.

The melody moved and changed, built, swelled, adding a complexity in the musical patterns reminiscent of a conversation, an exchanging of information.  The lightness now sparked imagery of stars. The feeling of space changed from that of a breeze in an open field to the vastness beyond Earth’s atmosphere. The gentleness was now reinforced with a sense of almost hidden strength – Scott thought that might’ve come from a stronger bass line, but he wasn’t sure.

“Is this . . . John?”

Virgil’s smile brightened.  “You’re good at this.”

“No, the music speaks for itself.  You’re the one painting these images of our family with notes and chords.”

The smile faltered as Virgil held the last chord, then he let his shoulders sink a little.  Scott silently cursed himself for bringing back that awkward self-consciousness in his brilliant brother, but before he could say anything Virgil spoke again.

“I guess they would be the second movement if this were a symphony.”  There was a brief pause, then he straightened back into his playing posture.  “No prizes for guessing who the third movement is.”

This piece of music was a jaunty, up-beat number that seemed designed to make people move – to dance, to tap their feet or clap along.  It definitely felt like a dance of some sort, and it contained hints of sea shanties, or maybe a sailor’s hornpipe.  It was the musical equivalent of laughter, sunshine, pure happiness, and it had a lilt that moved like the sea.

“Gordon!” Scott exclaimed with a laugh.

The comparatively brief third movement came to its conclusion, but Virgil barely paused before beginning what Scott guessed to be the fourth.

“And that leaves . . .” Virgil spoke softly as he began the final theme.

This one was in march tempo, strong, bright, driving forward with a sense of heroic purpose, and bringing back some of that swirling, soaring movement from earlier.  Scott could pick out hints of his own theme, and a faster version of parts of John’s, but the piece definitely had its own identity. There was a sense of urgency to it, as though the melody was trying to push the tempo into moving faster.

“Wow.  Alan would love this,” Scott found himself thinking aloud.

Virgil stopped playing after the end of the next phrase.

“There would be more.  If this was a symphony, I mean.  The fourth movement would bring in some more of the other main themes, tie everything together, finish with a bit of fanfare.”  Virgil was once again looking up at Scott, a mixture of curiosity and self-consciousness etched into his features.  “You really think Alan would like it?”

“Virgil,” Scott answered with a sigh and a shake of his head as he took the few strides over towards the piano stool, “it’s amazing.  All of it.  The whole symphony.”

Virgil gave a shrug and his brow creased a little.

“There’s a lot more to it in my mind.  Only so much can be translated through the piano.”

“Then orchestrate it.”

A sigh, a shake of the head and a hint of a smile was the only response.  Scott firmly planted a hand on his brother’s shoulder and piercing blue eyes locked gaze with warm brown ones.

“I mean it, Virgil.  Write your symphony.  Give it the life it deserves.”

Scott could see the struggle to find the right words as Virgil’s eyes struggled to hold with his.

“I . . . It’s not mine, Scott, it’s . . .” Virgil lost the battle to keep looking at the determined pride in his big brother’s blue eyes.  His gaze lowered and he focused on his hands.  “I mean . . . it’s all of you.  It’s not music I’ve created, it’s the music that you are.”  Then, almost too quiet to hear, “At least to me.”

“So, you don’t want to share it?”

“I don’t know.”

“You said this symphony isn’t yours.  I think you’re wrong.  It’s very much yours.  Something that you maybe want to hang onto, keeping it all for yourself.  And that’s okay.”  Scott shifted his grip, pulling his brother close.  “After all, this is family – The Tracy Family Symphony.  And if I’m the only one who ever gets to hear even this glimpse of what you carry in your heart, then I consider myself privileged.”

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fandom #thunderbirds fanfiction #virgil tracy #scott tracy #fic reblog #i think he should orchestrate it #and share it with the world #and i think there should be a companion piece that's all Virgil #that maybe is built on something that's barely noticeable #and yet a fundamental part of each movement #like a heartbeat

[waspspirits]

GHESTIES READ THIS FIC NOW!!!! 💥💥💥❗️❗️❗️

Some high quality, fresh out of the oven, terzomega with REAL Italian written by (gasp) a REAL Italian

Genuinely a well paced and lovely bit of writing, I think I may have frightened the author into making a ghost sideblog so that I could @ them. Speaking of which, @terzomega. Get em' ghesties

#the band ghost #papa iii #terzo #terzomega #omega ghoul #fic reblog #fic reccomendation #ao3 #ghost band #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost band fanfic #ghost band fic #the band ghost fic

[davejade-daily]

welcome to davejade daily!!

we post content of jade, dave and the relationship davejade. not necessarily daily, as we have lives, but we will be posting original art, edits and writing. we will also reblog relevant art, fics and writing, because other people are also making awesome dave, jade and/or davejade content that deserves attention too!! if you see a like from us, chances are, you are in the queue! hooray!!

this blog is run by @crookedgrifter and @ardentastronomer!! check us out if you want :D

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we do take requests of content (fic, art, edits) relevant to this blog (homestuck, jade harley, dave strider, davejade in both platonic and romantic forms, and any of our aus). we will fulfill these requests if and when we can. please be patient. we will not do suggestive or NSFW work.

A LITTLE BIT ABOUT US MODS:

i, mod harley, aka griff, am an enjoyer of jade harley and classpecting (prospit dreaming prince of void, sagittarius, sagittanius). i am a hobbyist artist, and i have been a homestuck for a year now. i discovered it through chrisrin's awesome art, and have not left since. i convert oxygen into carbon dioxide!! woo!! and so do you!!! i am a little bit silly and i am Totally Normal about jade. and davejade. aa/mod strider is my moirail!! :D

hi. im mod strider, aka aa (because my url doesnt nickname nicely. lookin at you). i also convert oxygen in to carbon dioxide (hey you stole my joke) and am an obsessive theorist. im a derse dreaming knight of light and a virgo/virpia. my fellow mod and moirail gave me the homestuck virus and now theres no hope for me. its terminal. my main hobby is being an internet hermit and multifandom mess, but i also enjoy drawing silly little guys and procrastinating my piano practice by playing taylor swiffer on guitar

thank you and have a good day!!

#davejade #davejade art #davejade fic #davejade <> #davejade <3 #nonsense #dave art #jade art #not davejade #mod harley #mod strider #art reblog #fic reblog #reblog #answered #requests #au tag #ms pain(t) monday

[redbloodedgurl]

I need help to find a series. It’s a Steve X reader but not really hahaha it’s a Bucket X reader.

He sees the reader at a farmers market on his way to the tower and he’s enthralled by her. Ofc shy baby doesn’t make a move just admire from afar. But theeeeen he arrives at the tower and Steve introduce him to her girlfriend and yesss ladies and gentlemen the girlfriend is Bucky’s love at first sight. Ofc Bucky does the most common thing to do at that moment (yeah right) and acts like an asshole to her the whole time……….. then they have a mission and Steve bless his heart dies hahaha [RIP] the reader goes off the grid because tan tan taaaaaan (dramatic music) she was pregnant with Steve’s child. So she disappears and she’s living in a farm in the middle of nowhere when Bucky finds her and he starts to get close to her, not an easy thing to do. They spent like 3 years or more finding her ofc because I think Fury helps her to disappear.

Help me please!!!!!

Thank you in advance you beautiful souls 💕

#homeofreblogs #home of reblogs fic recs #homeofreblogsficrecs #fic reblog #fic recs #fic rec #home of reblogs #fic reading #bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x reader fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #mcu bucky barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x female reader

[proseinborderland]

Hello peeps! I'll be updating shortly ... until then ...

✨Here is a lovely multi-part Chishiya fic rec 💖✨

His Will to Live

Index: https://at.tumblr.com/boohbear19/his-will-to-live-series/f0mc0pm7q8f5

Part 5: https://at.tumblr.com/boohbear19/his-will-to-live/k4zpi8n3xgik

@boohbear19

#chishiya shuntaro #chishiya #aib chishiya #chishiya angst #chishiya fluff #chishiya imagine #chishiya fanfic #chishiya fic #chishiya x fem!reader #chishiya x reader #chishiya x you #shuntaro chishiya #aib #aib s2 #Alice in Borderland #Alice in Borderland S2 #Imawa no Kuni no Alice #Imawa no Kuni no Arisu #Alice in Borderland Netflix #fic reblog #fanfic rec #fic rec

[everythingwasalreadypicked]

Singularity 

 “What is this place?”  Morrigan asked in wonder.

“A singularity, created by Matilde (surname), sponsored by the honorable E.M. Saunders, a gift to the people of Nevermoor.” Squall spoke as if reciting from memory. “The Museum of Stolen Moments.” 

It was beautiful. Morrigan was in awe of the scenes and stunning architecture. “Why did you want to show me this?”

“I heard your precious society” he paused to grimace “has been giving you a rather stilted version of wundersmith history.” 

“They’re not my society!” Morrigan retorted, though she knew he was right. “But what do you mean?”

They’ve been teaching you the evils of wundersmiths, have they not?”

“But they are evil.”

“WE aren’t evil.”

“You are.”

“…touché.”  He wore an expression of mock hurt for a moment, before they both dissolved into laughter, all the tension dissipated. 

A few minutes passed in awkward silence, before Morrigan asked a question. “What are these scenes?”

Squall pointed at a scene depicting a group of youths in a car “look closely” after a few seconds, she saw it. 

“A crash” she looked to another scene of two men embracing, and again Morrigan saw what the museum really was. “They’re dying!” 

“All real, if you must know”

Morrigan’s stomach turned “that… that is sick”

Squall chuckled “why yes, I suppose it is.” The sadistic smirk on his face turned a bit wry. “Part of being a wundersmith, is it?”

Morrigan panicked, she shouldn’t have gone anywhere with a murderer. 

“No-NO!” Morrigan screamed, already running away. Into the crowded rush hour streets of downtown Nevermoor, where squall wouldn’t find her. 

Chapter 2! How is it?

IT'S AWESOME!

The whole "we aren't evil." "No you are." exchange

I love this so much I'm so!!!!

#I'm hooked #this au has me in a chokehold #thank you thank you #nevermoor #fic reblog #(not a reblog technically but) #morrigan crow #ezra squall #evil mog au

[yellowhollyhock]

We all been sleeping on 87 raph his sarcasm is unmatched. I would watch the 87 series again just because sarcasm lol. This is why it was jarring 03 raph hated him instead of adopting the guy their sarcasm would be unstoppable hun does not stand a chance.

I love the 1987 show a reasonable amount (like the amount I care the 03 turtles. Reasonable and normal).

And yessss you’re so right I’d like to see them being besties. They can even still make fun of each other just make them besties first. There’s a lot of conversation about the 87 turtles being out of character in turtles forever, and rightfully so it’s incredibly true, but I think to a lesser degree the 03 turtles were flattened to fit. Especially Raph. He isn’t usually so needlessly mean. When he meets people who annoy him he adopts them!

Now 87 Raphael is very often deliberately rude. I can see that annoying all the 03 turtles, if for no other reason than because it would annoy 03 Splinter. But I don’t think it would last because 87 Raphael is also a golden-hearted gremlin just like the rest of them. (Plus I just think that if any of the turtles met other turtles they would get attached pretty easily considering they’ve always been literally the only ones of their kind).

There is one little moment where the two of them call their respective Donatellos “nerd” at the same time, and that was a nice little chuckle, but that’s hardly a Raph-worthy roast. They could’ve jinxed with a better roast for a better reason (like if Donnie was actually being annoying—not hard to do with our beloved 87 Donatello! (he’s so stupid I love him)—instead of just. Explaining something).

Idk I do like Turtles Forever. It’s probably fair to say a multiverse crossover movie would inevitably be disappointing because you just can’t do as much with a movie as we’ve already done with fanfiction. Still, the 87 turtles deserved way better.

Someday I’m gonna write that thing where 03 Raph takes all the 12 turtles under his wing and include 87 Raphael shenanigans in that.

Also speaking of fanfic and because it’s hard to find ones that include the 87 turtles! I really like Too Many Turtles by Dysfunctional Request (this doesn’t actually have a lot of the 87 guys but they are present and the Raphs are good so it made me think of it) and Hey Donnie For Future Reference This is Not How We Handle Things by BoStaffsAreCool.

ANYWAY. Yes I agree ❤️

#tmnt #tmnt 2003 #tmnt 1987 #2003 raph #1987 raphael #fic reblog #thanks for the ask! #I always ramble so much akdkfjdk #parenthetical upon parenthetical #I like talking to you

[bipbopdepmop]

howdy

i'm anton. i am just a silly little guy who might be lurking in your walls at any given time. (/j)

pronouns: he/they. mostly he, but we silly as they too :3 this blog posts/reblogs MCYT. specifically hermitcraft and the life series. (there's some other stuff too but not nearly as frequent). also lots of memes n stuff i sometimes reblog hermittshipping / trafficshipping. beware. dni if proship or just. generally gross

we subscribe to the philosophy of (see below) here!

passive aggressive blinky by @/stiffyck &lt;3

additional sideblogs:

@crookedgrifter <- homestuck sideblog. go read homestuck @/davejade-daily <- we draw/post homestuck jade harley/dave strider. i am a mod on this! note: it is kind of dead. oops. @/impulsesvdoodles <- i forgot to link this here. i run this as well. there's another blog that i have that im not linking here. if you see it in the wild, it is me! not a fake.

feel free to:

send an ask! standard be nice, don't send weird things, etc. spam like/reblog. go nuts, i'll see it and go wow, they had fun! i'm glad they liked that Thing so much. send art requests. will not draw nsfw/suggestive. will draw hermitcraft and/or life series! probably not ships though. = i don't really tag triggers, peruse at your own risk.

masterposts: alien cowboys au (silly au by @/stiffyck, @/bigb-enthusiast, and me!) link only works on desktop..

media filtering list: here so you can filter non-mcyt posts and/or spoilers for certain medias!

tags (that i never use) and more below the cut!

major tags! warning, my tagging system has fallen by the wayside

#reblog <- this tag is new. to find any reblogs from before nov 9 2023, search #rebop #my art <- this tag is new. to find my old art (anything before nov 9 2023) search #bipbop art #my writing <- i write. sometimes. #talk <- random posts, talking, whatever. this tag is new as of nov 9 2023. to find my old posts, search #bipbop rambles #asks <- ask tag. this tag is new. to find anything from before nov 9 2023, search #ask bipbop #liveblogging <- is what it says on the tin. sometimes stupid comments about the video i'm currently watching

tags i use mostly for myself!

I forget these all the time so this is staying here AKSJLALDJ

#for later <- things containing information i want to be able to dig up later #rotates in brain <- things that I love forever and want to be able to see again #art to scrutinize <- art for me to stare at later and try to figure out what's going on there in an attempt to study how to draw an stuff :D #videos of all time <- any sort of video or clip that I liked and wanna be able to find again. idk. #shenanigans <- for my frieeends yay!! #posts of all time <- famous tumblr posts or things that were funny

#my art #my writing #for later #talk #fic reblog #liveblogging #not mcyt #asks #rotates in brain #art to scrutinize #videos of all time #posts of all time #for alex #pinned post #shenanigans #<- for friends :D

[dewitty1]

Heal Thyself

astolat @astolat

​

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Characters: Draco Malfoy, Narcissa Black Malfoy, Harry Potter, Luna Lovegood Additional Tags: Healer Draco Malfoy, St. Mungo's, Medical School, Hospital, Medicine Series: Part 12 of Harry Potter works

Summary:

"Are you going for the course?" Lovegood asked. "You have the NEWTs.”

“What course?” Draco said, then, “No, don’t be ridiculous,” when he realized she meant the notice pinned up on the board he’d been staring at: Applicants To The Introductory Mediwizard Course For The Coming Term Shall Present Themselves In The Chief Mediwizard’s Office By August 24th. “Oh, I thought you might,” she said. “Well, goodbye.” And off she wandered again in her addled way.

Excerpt:

Harry managed to have dinner at Draco’s four times in the next two weeks before it occurred to him that he wasn’t doing it for the cooking, mostly because halfway through the fourth night, an emergency summons came in and Draco had to abandon him and his other guests—Magistra Weedstone and Magister Zalibar had come along as well that night—and the whole evening went flat like a fizzy drink left out too long. Harry tried to carry his share of the conversation, but he didn’t do very well. Fortunately he didn’t need to: Weedstone and Zalibar got into a heated quarrel about some new journal article that had just come out, on grounds so esoteric Harry doubted that even Hermione would have been able to offer a meaningful opinion, and that carried them along until Zalibar finally took himself away. At which point Weedstone turned on Harry instantly and demanded, “All right, Potter, look here, are you trifling with our peacock or what?”

Harry goggled at her, mostly in confusion at his own instinctive reaction, which was to indignantly deny the trifling, rather than ask what she was talking about.

Weedstone frowned when he’d didn’t have a ready answer. “Well, you'd best work it out on your own time, and don’t come back until you have.”

“Er, sorry, are you—warning me off Draco?” Harry said bemusedly, trying to decide what was more odd: that or the possibility of some cause.

“He puts on a good show, but he’s got noumenia-scarring that makes specialists quake to look at, and it’s taken the combined efforts of two of the greatest Chief Mediwizards we’ve ever had in a row to get him stable,” Weedstone said bluntly. “It’s not safe for Dark wizards to go in for Healing. He did it anyway, and he’s chosen it over again every time he’s had the chance to back away, but he’s still walking along a cliff. I’d just as soon not see you shove him over.”

Harry listened to her with a rising sense of indignation. “Right, I see,” he said grimly. “There mustn’t be any risk of losing the great Healer, and so what if he’d like to have a bit of an ordinary life for himself on the side?”

Weedstone immediately said in gleeful tones, “Oh, if it’s like that, then never mind, carry on! Flikka, I’ll be on my way, thanks,” and then she stood up and beamed at Harry with slightly alarming approval as she swept her cloak over her shoulders and Apparated away with a bang, leaving Harry to sit alone blankly staring at Draco's empty chair and wondering what exactly he was doing.

He did actually stay away to work it out on his own time, because Weedstone’s words lingered unpleasantly in his head: noumenia scarring to make specialists quake, and he’d already realized that himself, hadn’t he; she’d just put it into clean, clinical words. Voldemort and the Dark, working through Draco's own father, his whole family, hacking away at his spirit from birth, trying to make a child into the kind of person who would commit murder when they wanted him to. It was the mirror image of what Voldemort had done to Harry, damage to the soul instead of the body. Of course it went as deep, and Harry wasn’t going to be the one to shove Draco off the high-wire balance he’d found.  

So he stayed away for a few days, in which he left work early and had dinner with Ron and Hermione at Grimmauld Place, and at a nice restaurant with Luna, who ended the night by telling him seriously and with enormous intensity that he oughtn’t go to Barcelona for his next vacation, and on Saturday flew to Hogwarts to spend the weekend with Hagrid.

And it was inescapably clear to him that he didn’t want to do any of it, even though he should have, and did, only he couldn't because he wanted too badly to be doing something else: he wanted to be out flying with Draco, or at dinner with him, prodding him and teasing him, and this wasn’t just grabbing at the first thing he’d come across, it was—the longing to catch the Snitch: he’d caught sight of something gleaming, the shining golden prize out there ahead of him, and he wanted to get his hand around it before anyone else did.

The longing got more bright and sharp with every hour of the flight home. He meant to go home and go to bed; it was half past eleven when he finally reached London that Sunday night, and Draco was probably in bed, and also hadn’t any idea what was going through Harry’s head and would likely take a lot of talking to be convinced to go on a date with him. It seemed clearly like a conversation to have during waking hours. But he couldn't manage to be patient. He’d lost so much time already, and so much else he would never get back—years of possibilities and choices. And now he had the prize in sight, he couldn't bear not to fly as fast and high as he could after it, so instead he turned towards Matery Alley, and ten minutes later he was banging on Draco’s door.

Flikka scowled at him dramatically and then showed him into the sitting room where Draco was alone in a chair with a snifter of brandy in his hand and a tired, heavy look in his eyes that took a few blinks to clear when he looked up at Harry. “Did you manage to get yourself hexed again, Potter?” he said, with an air of tremendous long-suffering, putting the glass aside.

“In a manner of speaking,” Harry said, and reached out and took Draco’s hands and pulled him up; he did mean to say something, but Draco looked at him puzzled, and instead Harry just kissed him.

Draco made noises under his mouth that started as surprise, went on to outrage, and when Harry started to pull back, even more outrage. Draco grabbed his head with both hands and kissed him back in total ferocity, and with something between happiness and relief, Harry started clawing madly at their clothing. They didn’t even get out a word before they had sex for the first time, on the rug before the fireplace and only halfway naked, clumsy and awkward. It didn’t stop either of them from getting off, but afterwards, even still panting, Draco said thickly, “That was appalling. We have to learn how to do this properly.”

“It might take a while,” Harry said. He was feeling perfectly satisfied with their efforts, himself, and inclined to just keep on lying right here curled up round Draco on the rug, possibly for the rest of the week.

₍՞◌′ᵕ‵ू◌₎♡

#Heal Thyself #Astolat #Drarry #Drarry Fic Rec #fic reblog #Hp Fic Rec #Harry Poter Fic Rec #Drarry Fanfiction #Hp Fanfiction #Harry Potter Fanfiction #Drarry Fanfic #hp Fanfic #hp #Harry Potter #Auror!Harry #Draco Malfoy #Healer!Draco #carey's bookmark fic recs #Carey's Personal Bookmarks

[potatomountain]

I've read a crap ton of Yunho and Hwa fics-

Link me some Hongjoong and Yeosang fics guys. Let's build that fic recommendations for @doom-fics kkay?

Kay 😤😤😤😤

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez ot8 #ateez yeosang #ateez hongjoong #ateez mingi #ateez fic recommendations #find me some fics #ateez fic #ficblogging #doom fic recommendations #fic reading #fic reblog

[fire-lizard-ro]

My carrd: https://fire-lizard-ro.carrd.co/

Writing Rules

Masterlist

Requests/Asks: Open :)))

Current status: Writing but might take some time since the semester is beginning! Please be patient with me. <333

Roro/Tau✨

>disgustingly horrendously demisexual + demiromantic (maybe a bit cupioromantic?)

>20 years old || many ethnicities 🇲🇲🇨🇳🇦🇸/🇼🇸

>extremely downbad for characters and writing about it

>pronouns? Guess. :)))

Main tags: #Roro writes #Roro reads

#Roro draws

#Roro talks

#Roro writes with others!!! <333

#Roro requests

#asks answered

#Hina/Ro

#oc

#vtuber art

#honkai star rail/#hsr

#hsr x reader/#honkai star rail x reader

More tags in… the tags… LOL-

Current fixations: literally all the Hoyoverse games but mostly HSR

HSR my beloved. 🫶

-Minors DNI (on the NSFW- I WILL block you if I notice)

-racist/transphobic/homophobic DNI

-if we're moots on other social media PLEASE LOOK AWAY I BEG

-NSFW writing

-SFW writing

-Roro's thoughts

-art

-HSR theorycrafting + lore dumping

#Roro writes with others!!! <333 #Roro writes #Roro reads #Roro talks #Roro draws #Roro requests #asks answered #Hina/Ro #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #reblog #fic reblog #oc #vtuberart #art reblog

[katblu42]

Passing the Big Brother Baton

Something brought this one to mind recently, so I thought I'd bring it out for another airing.

You can also find it here on AO3

** Please note ** For this story Virgil is older than John.

Lucy knew her nap was over when the shuffle of little feet on the carpet became loud enough to break through the drowsy fog.  The little hand on her belly proved the point, but the whispered words kept her eyes closed for a while longer.  Much of what her eldest son was saying was too incomprehensible for her sleepy mind to decipher, but she caught the gist.  The hand on her very pregnant belly was part of an explanation that a baby was in there.  The beginning of a very serious instructional talk.

“Going big bruh now,” three-and-a-half year-old Scott was telling his barely one year old brother. Lucy was awake enough for her brain to begin re-interpreting the baby-talk to mean “You’re going to be a big brother now.”

“Like me!” Scott continued.  “I you big bruh.  You baby big bruh.”

Lucy allowed her eyes to drift open a little, wanting to see how this information was being received, but not wanting to interrupt.  Scott was too focused on Virgil to notice she had woken.  She could just make out Virgil doing that little bounce on his chubby legs as he stood on the other side of Scott, with both hands holding on to her bed for stability.  A flicker of movement in the corner of her eye diverted her attention and she saw her mother-in-law tentatively look into the room, ready to shoo the boys away and let her sleep.  Lucy caught Sally’s eye and gave a slight shake of the head, which the older woman took as her cue to withdraw.  The instructions continued.

“Baby come soon.  I look (after) you. You look (after) baby.”  The word “after” wasn’t spoken, but Lucy was used to filling in the blanks.

The only response Lucy could discern from her vantage point was a slightly furrowed brow – Virgil’s serious expression, one he used when concentrating hard.

“Big bruh job.”  (Meaning “That’s a big brother’s job.”)  There was a pause and Scott’s hand moved onto Virgil’s shoulder.  “I help you.”

“Ba!” Virgil replied, rather loudly, with another bounce as he flexed his leg muscles.

Scott nodded.  Apparently that was the required response.  Instructions had been given and received, and with that Scott turned and headed for the door, with Virgil toddling after him.

Lucy stifled a giggle.  Her boys were precious.  She had no doubt the new baby would be well and truly doted on.

****

With the impending birth of a fourth little Tracy, bedroom re-allocation was required.  Lucy had struggled with the best way of broaching the subject with her three boys, but needn’t have worried.  She should not have been surprised when five-and-a-half year-old Virgil immediately suggested John could move into his room.  He further justified this as the best solution by adding that Scotty was the biggest so he should have his own room.

John seemed apprehensive at first, but Virgil’s enthusiasm for the idea was apparently a persuasive force.  She watched, and silently followed, as he took John ever so gently by the hand and led him to the room in question to show him how it would all work.

“Your bed can go there.  Under the big window.  Then you can see the stars before you go to sleep.” His hands gestured at each space in turn as he spoke, his eyes alight with the imagining.  “My bed can go over there – I don’t need the window.  Bookcase goes there.  You gots more books than me, so it hasta go close to your bed.  We can share my desk.  It’s got all my pencils and paints on it though.  Is that okay?”

From her half-hidden spot just outside the door she could see John nod, seeming a little bewildered, but not altogether displeased with the idea.

“I promise I won’t be too loud,” Virgil assured his four-and-a-half year-old brother, “and it’s a big room, so you’ll still have lots of space all to yourself.”

Virgil must have seen or sensed something in John’s mood that she could not from out in the hall.  He sat on his bed, facing the window, and patted the space beside him, inviting John to sit to his left.

“I know lotsa things are changing right now.” There was a slow gravity to Virgil’s tone, so different to the rushed excitement of a moment ago.  “It’s gonna be okay, though.”

Virgil stretched his arm behind his brother’s shoulders, but waited until John leaned in against his side before letting his hand rest on the younger boy’s left arm in a gentle hug.

“You’re gonna be a big brother now,” Virgil said softly, “just like me and Scotty.  Big brothers gotta look after littler ones.  Scott looks after me sometimes.  I look after you.  You look after the baby when he comes.  But we’ll help you, too.”

“What about Mommy and Daddy?”

“They got lots of grown-up things they gotta worry about.  That’s why being a big brother’s so important.  Mommy and Daddy will look after all of us, but we can help them if we look after our little brother.  I gotta look after Scotty sometimes too, ‘cuase he doesn’t got a big brother.”

“Do you think I'll be a good big brother?"

Virgil nodded, and Lucy noticed the extra squeeze in the embrace.

"You're gonna be a great big brother.  And if you need any extra help you ask me, or Scotty and we'll help you."

"Okay," John said, visibly relaxing.  “I’m gonna help lots when the baby comes.  And I’ll help you look after Scotty too.”

Virgil gave an emphatic nod.

“Scott needs a lot of looking after.”

Lucy had to walk away before the laughter she was so desperately trying to stifle could burst out in a snort.

****

Gordon had just turned four, and with a new baby on the way the family had inevitably been throwing around the “big boy now” comments.  Lucy had been careful to involve Gordon in the necessary process of setting up the nursery furniture in the room he would soon be sharing, worried that he might resent the impending invasion.  Unlike any of the other boys, Gordon seemed reluctant to step into big brotherhood.  For over a week now he’d been very clingy, wanting cuddles with Mom on the flimsiest of pretexts, and needing Mommy’s (or, to a lesser extent Daddy’s) help with tasks that he had more than mastered.

Lucy was wondering what challenges today would bring when there was a commotion in the kitchen – a clattering of kid-safe plates, cups and bowls as though someone was rummaging through cupboards and spilling items out onto countertop and floor tiles.  Gordon had just gone in there.  With a sigh, Lucy heaved herself to her feet to see what was happening.  Before she reached the kitchen door the sound of John’s voice prompted her to stop and listen.

“What are you looking for?” the eight-and-a-half year-old enquired with a patience Lucy was sure she could not have mustered.

“My sippy cup,” came the simple reply, accompanied by more rummaging and clattering.

“Why?”

“For my juice.”  Lucy could hear the exasperated sigh in Gordon’s voice suggesting this was the most obvious thing in the world, despite him not needing his sippy cup in well over a year.

“I was going to pour yours into a cup just like mine.” 

Lucy was relieved her perceptive third child had been smart enough to avoid the term “big-boy cup.”  The use of similar terms had been enough to induce tantrums over the last few days.

There were footsteps and a cupboard door squeaked open as John apparently went and retrieved Gordon’s sippy cup from the corner cupboard used to store all the retired-until-further-notice toddler items.  Juice was poured, the lid popped on and the cup was slid across the countertop, presumably towards Gordon who had more than likely climbed up to sit on a stool opposite his big brother.

“You know, just because you won’t be the littlest anymore doesn’t mean Mom and Dad don’t love you just as much as they always did.”

Lucy was not surprised John was able to pinpoint the problem behind Gordon’s regressive behaviour, but she was impressed that he was able to articulate it so well, and that he was willing to address the issue head on.  There was no answer from Gordon, and she found herself imagining him trying to process what John had said, probably with head slightly tilted to one side and a squinty frown.

“I was the littlest before you were born,” John said solemnly, and perhaps with a hint of nostalgia.

“Really?”  The shock in Gordon’s voice had Lucy visualising his russet eyes widening.  “But you’ve always been big!”

John laughed.  A quiet, contented, closed mouth, chesty sound that Lucy always loved to hear.

“That’s because I’m older than you.  And I’ll always be older than you.  I’ll always be your big brother, just like Scott and Virgil will always be my big brothers, and all of us, including you, will be the baby’s big brother.”

“I don’t wanna be a big brother.”  Lucy heard the pout, and the crossed arms in Gordon’s words.

“Why not?”

“Don’t wanna be sponstible.  Wanna do fun stuff with Mommy, like before.  Just me and Mommy.  No baby.”

Lucy felt the prickle of tears in the corners of her eyes.  John let out a sigh.

“Yeah, it kinda sucks that you don’t really get to choose to be a big brother.  It just happens and you’re stuck with it.  And it is a big responsibility.  You need to look out for the little one, make sure they’re safe – like when I had to stop you from crashing the toboggan into the garage. You have to help them with things they can’t do yet – like I just helped you get a drink of juice.  But being a big brother can be pretty cool.  If you help mum look after the baby you’ll still get to spend time with her too.  And you can play with the baby sometimes.  Then when he gets bigger you get to teach him stuff.”

“Like what?”

“Well, the baby isn’t going to know anything about the world, or how things work, or being a Tracy.  He’ll watch you and learn from you – even when you don’t know it.  And when he’s old enough you’ll get to answer all his questions – like I answered when you asked me about how tadpoles turn into frogs.  You’ll be able to teach him important things like where all the best hiding spots in the house are, and not to steal grandma’s cookies.  Stuff Mom and Dad might not know, and stuff they might be too busy to help with – that’s the kind of big brother stuff you’ll need to do.”

There was a pause, and a soft shuffling and rustling of clothing.  Lucy thought John might have moved around the kitchen counter so he could put an arm around his little brother, or a comforting hand on his back with a gentle rub.

“You don’t have to do it all yourself.  That’s the best part about being a Tracy – we stick together, we all help each other.  You have three big brothers you can come to whenever you need to.”

Lucy wished she could see her boys at that moment, barely holding herself back from entering the kitchen just to see their expressions, to see the demonstration of exactly the big brotherly love John was speaking of.  She could hear the gentle scrape and clacking of cups that suggested the boys were sipping their drinks, perhaps even toasting the moment, before cups were tapped back down onto the countertop.

“I’ll tell you a secret,” she heard John quietly continue.  “I wasn’t sure how I felt about being a big brother at first.”  This was news to Lucy, and she wondered if she had missed something that she should have seen four years ago.  “But as soon as Mom and Dad brought you home I knew I would do anything to make you happy and keep you safe.”

“You didn’t want to be my big brother?”  The teariness in Gordon’s voice was heart-wrenching.

“I changed my mind really quick.  I found out having a little brother is the best feeling in the world.  There’s nothing like the way you looked up at me when I held you in my arms, or the feel of your tiny hand wrapped around my finger.  And you were fun to play with, especially when you were big enough to laugh.”

“I’m still fun to play with!” Gordon insisted, then doubt crept into his voice.  “Will you still play with me after the baby’s born?”

“Of course.”  John laughed again, this time a bright chuckle.

It seemed the serious conversation was over and the long silence prompted Lucy to begin to withdraw.  As she walked away she heard the beginnings of a whole new discussion.

“Are we sure the baby’s gonna be a boy?” Gordon asked

“Yeah, Mom and Dad and the doctor are all pretty sure.  Why?”

“Do you think I could ask if we could have a sister instead?” As curious as Lucy was to hear how John would handle that one, she kept walking, unable to stop the broad smile spreading across her face, and the swelling of absolute love in her heart for all her boys.

#fic reblog #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds are go #wee tracys #lucille tracy

[addawithbalmiki]

If you’re an Akatsuki no Yona fan, please read this. I’m hooked on this fic :)

#akatsuki no yona #yona of the dawn #txt #fic reblog

[davejade-daily]

a low quality doodle based on this fic. childhood hyperfixation x current hyperfixation? yes

i swear one day ill get good at creative posing

#davejade art #davejade #fic reblog #the ending came and burned my crops and i wish there was more of it #mod strider