#fic.🌧 in your arms

[lost-in-lamentation]

💉🌧 - sick fic, rain.

lucifer × gen!reader. fluff.

warnings: lucifer gets sick, kind of collapses, nothing serious.

content: on a rainy day, lucifer lends you his umbrella. he discovers the consequences later.

back to the 500 follower event: here.

lucifer has always been prepared for anything. even the rainy days, which are scarce in the devildom to begin with.

the rain continuously pelts against the windows of his office in RAD, rattling the frames as it fights to keep the inside world dry. quietly, lucifer overlooks the proposed curriculum for a new devildom mathematics class as you scribble away on your own assignments. the demon enjoys these moments, when neither of you can be bothered by anyone from a specific set of individuals. but the rain is only getting worse, and lucifer needs to prioritise.

“MC, are you done your work?”

you stretch your arms above your head, a soft yawn escaping you as you nod your head. “just about. should we head back?”

“yes. the rain may only get worse if we wait any longer.” lucifer hears you hum in agreement and begins to pack his own things away. the papers rustle as he slides them into a folder; a gentle sound compared to how it continues to rumble outside. he tells you he’ll wait at the front doors for you, grabbing the umbrella he keeps just in case from the shelf. you don’t take long to finish, but when you run up to meet him, lucifer can’t help but notice the way you’ve draped your uniform jacket over your head. “do i want to ask what you’re doing?”

“well…” shifting your weight from side to side, lucifer can tell you’re debating your options. “i don’t have an umbrella.” the avatar of pride shoots you an incredulous look, causing you to stutter. “look, i- it barely rains down here! you can’t just expect me to have an umbrella at the ready!”

all of a sudden, you’re pouting at lucifer, and he is at a loss for words. he scans you carefully, releasing a resigned sigh as he holds his umbrella out to you. “we’ve wasted enough time.”

you shake your jacket into its original place as you take the umbrella. “what about you?”

“i would prefer if you were protected from the rain.”

“you’ll get sick if you walk in the rain.”

“nonsense. that only applies to humans.”

lucifer learns it does not apply to only humans.

three days later, beel is knocking quietly at your door, reporting that lucifer has not been seen for the last 24 hours. you suppress a cheeky grin, promising the concerned twin that you would go and check on the eldest. you pad down the hallway in almost complete silence, the carpeted floor doing well to muffle your footsteps. your knuckles rap softly against lucifer’s door, but before you can get a response, the door creaks open by itself.

“lucifer?” you whisper into the pitch black room, waiting for your vision to adjust to the darkness as you shut the door behind you. “lucifer, where in diavolo’s name are you?” you hiss in feigned annoyance, pulling your d.d.d. out of your pocket to use the screen as a flashlight. finally, you see him; sitting on the ground, propped up against the couch rather than on the couch itself. despite the lack of lighting, you can tell that his hair is dishevelled, and his breathing comes out erratic instead of steady. carefully, you shuffle to his side, pocketing your phone so that you have both your hands free. your fingers are gentle as you brush the stray hairs out of his face, and your hands, cold to the touch, have lucifer leaning into you for a fraction of a second. “you’re burning up…”

instantly, pride returns. lucifer pulls away from you, eyes wide as he struggles to gain his bearings. “MC, my room is not one where you can come and go when you’d like,” he rasps, pulling himself up while he pretends he wasn’t just unconscious on the ground. “leave before i curse you.” the demon forces himself to his feet, face twisted in concentration as he tries not to tremble where he stands.

you straighten your back to stand next to him, arms held out in front of you in the event that lucifer fails to continue to stay upright. “you don’t look like you can curse anyone like this, lucifer.”

the air turns hot from his displeasure. “regardless, there is no reason for you to be in here.” lucifer can only manage a step before a migraine takes a hold of him. there are claws digging into his skin and a chasm splits his head in two, forcing him to his knees.

“lucifer!” you’re at his side in an instant, pulling his hands away from his head and gathering him into your arms. he gives in to you right away, his body weight pressing on you as the strength is sapped from him. his breathing, you notice, is jagged; he can barely take one full breath without it being interrupted. “lucifer, you need to lie down.” with much effort, you slide closer to the couch, counting yourself down mentally before pushing him up onto the cushions. when he groans at the movement, you can’t help but shush him softly, carding your fingers through his already mussed hair. you keep it up for a few minutes, waiting until his breathing evens out to slip away. but the eldest brother, sharp as always, calls out to you before you can leave.

“MC?”

you never thought you’d hate to hear lucifer so weak. “i’ll be right back, okay?” in record time, you run down to the kitchen to get him some water, as well as a spare rag just in case. by the time you return, lucifer is already sitting back up, dazed eyes lighting up ever so slightly when you appear in front of him. “didn’t i tell you to lie d-”

“don’t leave me.” you inhale sharply, attention snapping back from the things you gathered to the sick demon on the couch. “i won’t know what to do if you leave.”

carefully, you set your things down on the coffee table behind you. “i would never leave you, lucifer.”

“you just did.”

“i went to get you water,” you say in a low voice, reaching behind and grabbing the water bottle for him to see. “here.” lucifer waits for you to unscrew the cap before extending his hand to take it, but you shake your head ‘no’ and bring it to his lips for him. “your hands are shaking too much.”

luckily, a sick lucifer is much more agreeable than a regular lucifer, and he accepts without complaint. you watch as he slowly comes to his senses, cheeks flushed a scarlet red from both embarrassment and his sudden fever. “i’m sorry, MC. i am not myself.”

you give him a sigh, gazing at him with such stark affection that lucifer thinks he’s hallucinating again. “get some sleep then. i’ll make some food for when you wake up.”

lucifer says nothing, but instead wraps his fingers around your wrist weakly. “don’t leave.” he pauses, and you feel his grip tighten. “please,” he whispers; he begs.

unmoving, your eyes flicker from his hand on your wrist to his face. lucifer lowers his head, unwilling to return your gaze. behind you, the clock ticks rhythmically, counting the seconds that lucifer has been waiting for a response. of course, you resign, turning yourself around to sit on the edge of the couch. you swing your legs up onto the cushions, leaning back onto the arm rest so that you’re angled upwards. once you find yourself comfortable, you pull lucifer towards you, letting his head rest against your shoulder as more of his weight falls onto you. although his temperature still runs high, it’s lower than what it was when you first found him. the best thing now, you decide, is to hold him close.

you can hear the gentle patter of rain against the windows, a reminder of what landed you in this situation in the first place. but now, with lucifer peacefully dozing off in your embrace, you can’t help but think that you might never buy an umbrella at all.

a/n: .... hi guys

reblogs are really appreciated (´ω｀) ♡

#obey me #obey me swd #obey me nightbringer #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me lucifer x you #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me x you #obey me x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer x you #aris writes 🐈‍⬛ #aris hits 500 🐈‍⬛

[ihavemanyhusbands]

okay i have a devious idea lmaoo what if this time Duncan was the one touching himself after getting too worked up from the car accident sweetie giving him a shoulder massage hahahahh (platonically ofc lol) would he imagine her on her knees? Bent over the kitchen counter? In the shower? The possibilities are endless 😭😭

(P.S please dont let these little blurbs keep you from writing a long fic 🥹 i need it like a shot of espresso in the morning)

-🌧

AUIFUEJHWJW god u just know me soooo well!! And don’t worry I’ll still definitely write a longer fic at some point <33 I aaaalready have an idea even 🤭 I love these two so MUCH!!

——

Long after you’d fallen asleep, softly snoring under a pile of blankets, Duncan was still wide awake. He’d slid out of bed and had to lock himself in the bathroom, attempting to stifle the fever that had been plaguing him for hours.

Despite the massage you’d given him earlier, his muscles were still tight. He’d sat ramrod straight, barely even breathing, while your hands attempted to knead out the years of knots and tension from his broad shoulders.

Still, he had thoroughly enjoyed the attention, not to mention your touch. The latter he enjoyed perhaps a little too much, for his mind wandered to some lewd places. He couldn’t help but think of where else he wished your hands would roam. The way they would caress him experimentally, like he was a marvel worth exploring.

He’d been paralyzed by an intense desire, which left him mostly mute for the rest of the evening. Luckily for him, you thought you’d helped him relax enough to tire him out. And the way you nestled right into his arms as you went to sleep….

He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, his other hand palming the prominent bulge in his underwear.

His eyes shut and he invariably surrendered to his fantasies and the promise of release. He freed his throbbing erection from his underwear, trying to imagine it was your soft hands stroking him and not his own rough ones.

A groan almost escaped him, but he bit his lip to keep it in his throat. He bucked into his hand as he thought of the way you felt against him, your smell and warmth overtaking his senses. The gentle touch of your lips to his….

Imagining how you’d moan, too, was a special kind of torture. Sighing his name near his ear, clinging onto his shoulders as you dissolved under him. He would completely get lost in you.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He bit back an even louder groan as he spilled all over his hands, his eyes screwed shut and head leaning back against the wall. His chest heaved during the comedown, his head swimming from how hard he came.

When had he become so hopeless? And when had his imagination turned so vivid?

As he cleaned himself up, he simply knew that this wouldn’t be the last time he’d end up in this situation. He just hoped that he wouldn’t be so obvious around you.

———

#🌧️ anon #duncan vizla x reader #the black kaiser x reader #duncan vizla smut #polar fanfiction #minors dni

[violettduchess]

Hello Violet🥺💖 This is my first time requesting to you, so I hope this is the right way

May I ask for Cyran + rainy days + 🌧? Thank you very much🥺💕 (feel free to ignore if this has been requested!)

A/N: here you are lovely @thewitchofbooks 💜

Cyran x reader, a continuation from his Kiss fic (Italics are excerpts from this fic)

WC: 682

The rain continues to fall, water droplets sliding down the window pane like fallen teardrops, obscuring the view outside of Cyran’s window. He sits at the wooden desk, in the small room above the armory that serves as his office. His red hair is still damp, despite the vigorous rubbing he gave it, the soft towel still hanging around his broad, bare shoulders. The candle on his desk does its best to fight the gray gloom, soft orange-yellow light falling across the parchment where the names of all new recruits are listed in his own neat handwriting. He should be organizing them into regiments, assigning them to the more experienced officers. It’s a task that should take hours, one that should keep him focused. But the thunderstorm in his mind, the one filled with the bright lightning of your kisses, the thunder of your sighs, will not quiet. Eventually he lays his silver-feathered quill down, his head now in his hands.

And then you’re running back towards him and his long legs are swallowing the distance between you until you meet like a clap of thunder, falling into one another’s arms. 

He should have turned away, he should have torn his gaze away from the sight of you rushing towards him, surrender in your eyes. You are Belle, tasked with the important job of choosing the next ruler. You can afford no distractions. Especially not from the likes of him.

And yet he gave in, as unable to resist your pull as the ocean could the moon, and you fell into his arms like a star loosened from the sky, fit there so perfectly, felt so damn good.

A low groan escapes him as he reaches for the tumbler with its small volume of burnt amber liquid. The whiskey may be cheap but maybe...maybe it will get the job done. It burns as it goes down, but even if he were to walk through hellfire itself, he knows deep down nothing could burn away the memory of your kiss.

His kiss is devouring, determined to leave no part of you untasted. He steals your breath, swallows your gasps, drinks from your lips. Over and over he kisses you until your legs shake and your blood is a river of fire in your veins. Soon your mouth is not enough. He needs more. His lips scavenge your cheeks, your jawline, and then lower, following the line of your neck. Everywhere he kisses you burns and the raindrops that land there in his wake feel cold as ice. 

The rain is forlorn as it continues to tap against the window, whispering at him that he is a fool. A fool for losing himself in your lips, the taste of your hot, slick skin mingled with cold rain. A fool for loving the rough pull of your fingers in his crimson hair, the restless feel of your hands over the wet linen of his tunic, the grip of your hand on his muscled arms. 

A fool for leaving you there, dazed with the force of what just happened, your kiss-swollen lips parting as the word “Wait….” slipped past a throat tight with water-logged emotion. 

That croaked word, that whisper on the wind, has buried itself in his heart, the points of it digging in like barbed wire, tearing at him just a little more every time it replays itself in his mind. 

The tumbler is now empty. The rain endless. Cyran pushes himself away from his desk with a growl, knowing that any attempt to work will be a fruitless endeavor. Best to head back to his quarters where he knows a sleepless night is licking its chops, waiting for him.

He snatches up his sodden tunic, flings open the heavy wooden door with the strength of his frustration……

….only to find you there, cheeks damp with rain or tears or both, your hand raised, hovering in the air as if searching for the courage to actually knock.

His heart lurches in his chest…that foolish, hopeful creature with bloody wings.

Before he can move a muscle, before a word can even form, you have found your mettle.

“We need to talk.”

Tagging: @aquagirl1978 @alixennial @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @rhodolitesrose @ikemen-writer @bellerose-arcana @redheadkittys @dear-mrs-otome @firestar-otomeobsessed @curious-skybunny @kpop-and-otome @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @otomefoxystar @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @queen-dahlia @aceuuuuu @scorchieart @bubblexly

#ikemen series #ikemen prince #ikepri #ikepri cyran #cyran rose #spring showers spring flowers ccc #ikemen fanfiction #ikemen fanfic #otome fanfic #violettwrites

[anistarrose]

🌀🌤🌧🌪 :3c

my computer's displaying the emojis weird so hopefully I got the right ones, let me know if not!

🌀Post the fic summary for a fic you haven't written/published yet. It can be hypothetical or something you really plan on releasing...

okay I don't think I had a single proper summary written for a WIP prior to now, so thank you for encouraging me to get off my ass and write a tentative one for the maurcretia divorce fic:

At one point, Maureen never thought she could fall in love with a client of Miller Labs — but that was before Lucretia came into her life, brilliant and witty and mysterious, and Maureen is hooked, drawn as is her nature to Lucretia and her secrets.

At another point, Maureen never thought she could fall out of love with Lucretia — and she doesn't, not exactly — but nevertheless, as the pair's dueling projects near completion, the weight of secrets and stubbornness weighs heavier and heavier.

were they ever married? no one's quite sure. are they divorced? i hope to convince you that they absolutely are, in a fic coming very very soon :)

🌤️Share your favorite piece of dialogue from your WIP.

from "untitled barry midlife crisis" fic, which is set shortly pre-starblaster:

“I — I fucking figured you were working on the bond engine, Barry, you’re always working on the bond engine — but for Pete’s sake, for how goddamn long this time? Did you stay the night here?!”

Barry leaps to his feet, immediately the most animated that Davenport’s seen him in days.

“Dropped my fantasy car keys down the fantasy parking lot sewer last night!” he exclaims, holding up his hands as if to add what can you do? “So I came back to my lab, settled down for the night, and had a whole fantasy mid-life crisis!”

I actually rewrote this one recently and it's full of STEM major in-jokes that are funny mainly to me but possibly other people as well, it's basically complete but I'm saving it for when I need to post a breather between angsty fics. speaking of,

🌧️Share something angsty from your WIP.

from a "lup lives... until glamour springs" AU:

“Taako, I don’t think she’s going to make it.”

Taako sits bolt upright. The door in front of him is closed, the room is dim — dimmer than he remembers leaving it, even — and Lup is still breathing softly, thank gods, thank more fucking gods than Taako can remember the names of —

And looming over foot of the bed is a human-shaped specter, cloaked in black shadows and a glowing crimson robe. On reflex, Taako throws an arm over Lup, clutching his wand.

I wrote most of this one just yesterday, and it occupies a very specific place on the hurt-comfort spectrum that I honestly don't know how to articulate 😭

🌩️ Share something funny/cracky from your WIP.

ooh I got a good one from a basically complete hurloane piece I'm gonna try and polish up for next week:

“Ooh, babe, you’ve gotta see this meme Carey posted,” Sloane says with a chuckle, and shows Hurley her screen. It’s a very, very compressed Fantasy JPEG of a horse that’s captioned, in Fantasy Impact font: “jeffandrew found some of the horses and made them vampire horses.”

“Wow. So deep,” Hurley deadpans. “Is this the rogues group chat again?”

“Yeah. Magnus reacted with a cow emoji, Barry replied with a picture of himself holding up a piece of paper that reads ‘I don’t understand this meme and at this point I’m too afraid to ask,’ and it looks like Angus didn’t see this yet — which he better not have, ‘cause Carey posted it way past his bedtime!”

there's more group chat silliness where that came from in the final wip so stay tuned :)

(send me writing ask emojis!)

#i have a lot of nearly-finished wips right now so i've got a lot of offerings here #taz balance spoilers #ask meme

[bigmanroykent]

🌧☔️ !!

🌧️Share something angsty from your WIP.

He feels the tears coming again and he rubs at his eyes. “Shit,” Roy whispers and shifts closer to sling an arm over his shoulders, holding him close. He doesn’t even know Jamie is crying over him. “This is so fucked,” Jamie says. “Yeah,” Roy says, not realising what he’s agreeing with.

☔Is there a fic concept you have that you'd like to just explain and share because you're not sure you'll ever write it? If so, what is it?

I thought I had an idea like that but then I started writing it skjdfh so here's an incomplete wishlist that I'll never write but would love to read:

i've read 1.4 jane austen novels but. jane austen-ish AUs that are all about propriety and social norms that roy and jamie must navigate in their quest to hate each other so intensely that they can't help but fall in love

more historical AUs in general... I want knights royjamie

full on ASOIAF au. don't care what they are I just want them in that world but I don't have the brain to put them there myself

a knight's tale au

CAN YOU TELL I REALLY WANT THEM IN FANCY OUTFITS AND ARMOUR AND WIELDING SWORDS

winter soldier!jamie

#that last one is a joke BUT NOT REALLY!!!!! #i'm too embarrassed to put this in the royjamie tag but if someone writes or has written any of these i trust in the universe #i will find it #asks #es fic #also when i say knights i don't mean of the round table dont get it twisted #even if i have fics where they've met mordredpercy. they're the only ones

[chestharrington]

I posted 3,140 times in 2022

That's 3,140 more posts than 2021!

901 posts created (29%)

2,239 posts reblogged (71%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@strangerthingsedits

@joseph-quinns

@chestharrington

@scooprtrooprbutchristmas

@lucascsinclairs

I tagged 888 of my posts in 2022

#stranger things spoilers - 60 posts

#cat’s fic recs - 56 posts

#smut blurbs - 56 posts

#st4 spoilers - 56 posts

#blurbs - 43 posts

#🥺🥺🥺 - 24 posts

#real - 23 posts

#steve - 20 posts

#steve harrington - 15 posts

#stranger things - 14 posts

Longest Tag: 116 characters

#i need y’all to know whenever i say god bless or anything mildly religious that i am an atheist and it’s not serious

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

💋 smut, 💕 fluff, 🌧 angst, 🔥 horror

See the full post

854 notes - Posted June 5, 2022

#4

Adult Education || Part Two

Summary: Weeks into your newfound routine with Steve, you decide to shake things up a bit. It'll be fun and casual, right?

Couple: Steve Harrington x AFAB!Reader (GN Pronouns)

Category: Smut/Fluff

Content Warning: graphic smut, slight voyeurism, fingering, handjobs, awkward depictions of visiting a sex shop, slight drug use

Word Count: 7.5k

Requests: Open!

See the full post

2,197 notes - Posted June 8, 2022

#3

the arm around the cushion where eddie was sitting…….. i am observing, digesting, and interpreting this currently

2,670 notes - Posted September 6, 2022

#2

Adult Education || Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: Steve Harrington is really weird about the adult film section of Family Video, which really should change its name. After a lot of teasing about dirty movies and the people who rent them, you both take your fixation on dirty movies a little too far.

Couple: Steve Harrington x AFAB!Reader (GN Pronouns)

Category: Smut/Fluff

Content Warning: graphic smut, mutual masturbation, mentions of really bad 1980s adult movies

Word Count: 6.3k

Requests: Open!

See the full post

5,460 notes - Posted June 4, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Bizarre Love Triangle || Steve Harrington x reader x Eddie Munson

Summary: Eddie Munson has finally graduated from Hawkins High. To celebrate, you plan a camping trip for the ages and invite Steve Harrington, your mutual friend that you're totally crushing on. Doesn't help that you also like Eddie, and that Eddie also likes you, and Steve is into you both. Oh, and you all have to share one cramped tent.

Couple: Steve Harrington x Reader, Eddie Munson x Reader, Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson

Category: Smut

Content Warning: graphic smut, oral (m & f receiving), hand jobs, fingering, unprotected sex, graphic dirty talk, spit kink

Word Count: 9.1k

CONTAINS NO SPOILERS FOR S4 VOL 2

See the full post

7,979 notes - Posted July 6, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

[pluviophile-imagines]

I posted 2,551 times in 2022

That's 1,767 more posts than 2021!

820 posts created (32%)

1,731 posts reblogged (68%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@petrichorium

@saintshigaraki

@shibaraki

@pantowone

@prettyboykatsuki

I tagged 2,366 of my posts in 2022

Only 7% of my posts had no tags

#let the rain kiss queue - 768 posts

#pattering on the roof - 580 posts

#art.🌧 - 325 posts

#aes.🌧 - 319 posts

#ask.🌧 - 305 posts

#pluvi’s pals - 220 posts

#fic.🌧 great celestial hieroglyphs - 123 posts

#anon - 113 posts

#char.🌧 gojo - 89 posts

#rec.🌧 - 80 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#gagamaru likes crop tops n it’s definitely bc i put my hands on his stomach n back a lot when he wears them ♥️ & he loves when i do that ♥️

My Top Posts in 2022:

#4

you are, undoubtedly, not the only person whose blood boils at the mention of alhaitham, but you think you might be the person who gets under his skin the most.

he bickers with many of his fellow scholars, certainly, yet you can’t say anyone else makes him so angry he can’t even speak the common tongue. every time you storm off after an argument you leave him muttering angrily in some unknown language.

still, he enjoys provoking you, especially on occasions where you’ve become so lost in your work that you haven’t seen him in days. this time you’ve fallen down a rabbit hole researching an ancient language, one renowned for its prose and eloquence and, most interestingly to you, romantic confessions of love. it’s been nearly a week since you’ve encountered anyone but the librarians; the subject is fascinating.

you return to the library one morning, however, to find that he’s taken the very book you’d put on hold—using his position to undermine your claim—and though the bait is obvious, you still rise to it. the spat which ensues is predictable, fast-rising and heated within the span of a few words. it ends in the pair of you nose-to-nose with him holding the book up out of your reach and your finger prodding angrily at his chest. when you turn and storm off, he sinks back down into the chair you’d found him in.

this time, however, when he begins to curse you under his breath, you understand it.

and it makes you freeze.

you hadn’t realized until this moment but the very language you’d been researching is what he spits at you after every dispute. and now that you have researched, you realize that what he has been muttering under his breath for many months now is a bewildering kind of confession.

“you drive me insane,” he growls, only just loud enough for you to make out the words. there’s a temptation to dismiss it, vague as the accusation could be, yet the next statement is far less ambiguous as he mutters it beneath his breath. “i can barely think around you, you vexing, brilliant thing, yet when you’re gone i can’t stand it.”

it freezes you in your path. you straighten and whirl about, eyes wide, mind a blur of surprise and warmth blossoming in your chest. warmth, which only increases when you catch another grumbled sentence, spat out like the insults you thought he’d been calling you, accompanied by an icy glare down at the very book he’d stolen.

“one day,” he snarls, entirely oblivious to how you’ve caught on, “i’ll shut you up by kissing you.”

“do it, then,” you’re saying before you can stop yourself, the words rushing out more confident than you truly feel.

he startles, head snapping up to meet your gaze, eyes just slightly wide enough to betray what he’s feeling. “what?”

if you didn’t know him so well you might mistake the near-invisible expression on his face for one of anger, but it’s shock. fear, even, if the man before you is even capable of being afraid. he watches, frozen where he sits with book in hand, as you stalk back towards him until you’re even closer than before, up against his chair; until you push even further with a knee upon it, sinking the plush of the cushion between his thighs.

leaning down is the obvious next step, bracing yourself on the arms of his chair, each hand a hairsbreadth away from brushing his forearms. looming over him like this is an odd kind of invigorating—he’s so tall and broad that this position is perhaps the only one that would allow it. and he stares up at you, somehow seeming even more frozen in place, that nearly imperceptible emotion on his face sliding smoothly into something you might be so bold as to call enrapture.

“kiss me. shut me up.” you cock your head and watch those striking eyes drop to your lips just as you add a final word, goading: “coward.”

a bulky arm slings itself around your waist, tugging you down roughly onto his lap and knocking that damned book from its perch. his lips are on yours before it can hit the ground.

928 notes - Posted November 16, 2022

#3

Sleeping in the Garden: Part I

981 notes - Posted August 27, 2022

#2

pantalone who finds you’ve inherited your parents’ bakery—a quaint little thing, always struggling yet, having been in your family for generations, unable to be parted with. you’re a childhood friend, the weary ghost of a kind face who used to pass him warm bread bundled up in coarse muslin, daughter of a family with so very little who still gave what she could to the boy who had even less.

the first time he enters you put it all together. you’ve always been a clever one, and the way your eyes light up with recognition as you greet him has him recalling just how fond he’d been of you in his youth. the warmth of your bread and the warmth of your smile are cut from the same cloth. he gives you all the mora he has on hand that first visit, more the next, and comes to bring along all manner of priceless gems and opulent jewelry to gift you if only just to watch your eyes widen in awe and then dart up to stare at him in doe-like astonishment.

(he finds himself disappointed whenever he returns to see your flour-covered apron the only adornment on your person, though he knows how foolish it’d be for you to wear his gifts openly, practically begging for trouble)

you always say he gives you too much. you ask how many times you have to tell him he’s repaid whatever he thinks he owes tenfold. he reaches out to brush soft, cold knuckles against your cheek and give you an indulgent smile as he replies, at least once more.

you’ve certainly come to understand it’s never been about paying you back. someday soon, he thinks you know, he will no longer be satisfied by mere pastries and the brushing of knuckles.

someday soon he’ll no longer be able to ignore his desire to see you in his bed draped in every lavish token of his affection he could possibly dream up.

1,909 notes - Posted July 11, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Katsuki calls you when he leaves work every day.

When you started dating him that was the deal. He risks his life constantly; there’s no assurance ever that he’ll return home to you. So even now, years after the tradition began, now that the pair of you wear matching rings on your fingers and the bed he stumbles into each night is the very one you occupy, he still calls.

It’s never anything substantial. Sometimes it’s quick, barely a minute long, a quiet greeting and a simple home soon before he hangs up to change out of his uniform. Sometimes you stay on the phone for an hour; talking about your days as you both commute, planning dinner, discussing your upcoming visit to his parents over the weekend. More often than not it’s at 5:00 almost to the minute—he scarcely likes to dawdle, preferring instead to end the work day and have dinner with you regularly—and you typically know ahead of time when he’ll be working late.

Of course, there is a downside. On the rare (very rare) occasions when you don’t get that call, it makes you panic.

He calls you a dumbass every time, rolls his eyes and scoffs, yet he always holds you tighter afterwards. There is always food in his hands when he opens the door, shoved into yours in silent apology. You always catch him as he’s drifting off, pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck and promising that he’ll always come home safe.

You’re certain that’s what will happen tonight when you don’t get your call at five.

You’re still pretty certain he’s okay at 5:30. You text him a photo of the meal you’ve made, the two place settings, with a caption telling him not to let it go cold.

By the time 8:00 rolls around you’re worried. That’s bedtime—he’d never voluntarily miss it. Yet you assure yourself by turning on the news, aware that if pro hero Dynamight had fallen to a villain or been crushed by a collapsing building it would be talked about and nothing of note was being said. He typically told you when he was going out on more secretive missions, too; not directly, but subtly. He’d implied nothing of the sort today. He’d likely just been dragged out to some bar by his high school friends, the only people able to do it. He’ll come stomping through the door at midnight smelling like booze but stone sober, and you’ll shove him into the shower and sit on the sink while he bitches about Denki and Mina and Hanta with affection in his voice. Yeah, that’s it.

9:00

10:00

11:00.

You’re still in your work clothes, you realize, yet it’s far too late now to change. The lights are off in the living room save for the multicolored display of the television, which you keep on out of a sinking feeling that any moment your fears will be confirmed. An image is ingrained in your mind: his body, broken and bloody. Lifeless.

You wonder what villain could have taken down Katsuki. You think they’d have to be terrifyingly strong to even stand a chance, and still have to play dirty to win. Maybe they’d looked like someone he knew—Izuku or Eijiro, or maybe even you. He’d have gotten a shock from that, a villain strong enough to harm him would have only needed that chance. Or perhaps it had been a building, perhaps he’d charged in after hearing an old lady calling for help. Foolhardy heroics had always been Deku’s thing yet your husband could get caught up in it at times. You blame their shared mentor. All Might had more than enough to spare.

Katsuki would chide you for staying up so late, especially on a work night. He’d take one look at the clock on the wall and bark at you to go to bed, never mind that he could be dying in an alleyway or bleeding out on some rooftop. He’d drag you to the bathroom to wash your face. You wish he were here to do it. Your conjured version isn’t persuasive enough.

But then you get a call. It’s 1:34 in the morning. You’re on the couch, curled up in the corner with the cat pressed into your side and a blanket thrown over your legs, staring sightlessly at the news half dozing off. Your phone is on the coffee table in front of you, and it startles you awake when it buzzes.

You lunge for it, too relieved upon seeing the contact on the screen to care about the sound of your cat scrambling off into some safe corner of the apartment. It’s Katsuki. His name is like a beacon of hope as you press accept, as tears spring to your eyes and your thumb shakes just barely. You can already hear his gruff voice calling you a dumbass for being so worked up, the offended tone as he asks you if you have any faith in him at all.

Except it’s not Katsuki on the other side of the line, not this time.

It’s Deku.

2,284 notes - Posted March 12, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#ignore that i only have four top posts #my third post was one that i hated so i deleted it in the hopes of fixing things but it didnt work :(

[janfraiser]

🌧&🍬 for those october asks :)

🌧️ rain: share a sad or emotional scene from your wip!

From day 16 of whumptober, which is an Ocean's 8 fic for the prompt "No Way Out":

Debbie leans into her wife’s embrace. “Oh, y’know. It’s just the normal fear of fucking everything up.”

“Just that part? Or fucking everything up and going to jail?” Lou’s blunt nails are running soothingly up and down Debbie’s spine.

The Ocean closes her eyes. “Lou, I’m tired, I don’t wanna talk about this.”

“The Doc said nightmares were pretty likely as a PTSD symptom, honey.”

“She didn’t say I had to spill my guts about them,” Debbie grumbles.

🍬 candy: share a sweet or fluffy scene from your wip!

Obviously my whumptober fics are not very fluffy, so here's a scene from a rhekker canon divergence fic I'm writing for Chicago Med, affectionately referred to as the Baby Drama AU:

“You should see Will before you treat any more patients,” Ava says, a wry smirk on her face.

Connor frowns, not sure what she’s getting at. “Hm?”

“I’m just worried your pride might be a little bruised,” she elaborates, “from following me around all day like a lovesick puppy.”

It’s a well-crafted dig, but Connor’s not gonna tell her that. “Hey!”

“Don’t you have a half-dead patient to miraculously rescue with a ludicrously risky surgery?” She bumps her shoulder into his, clearly trying to hold back a smile.

Connor resists the urge to loop an arm over her shoulders; he has a feeling that might ruin the moment. “That’s a funny way of saying you’re impressed by my surgical skills.”

“Impressed… or baffled by your insane luck,” Ava says with a shrug. “C’mon. If you’re following me all the way to the cafeteria, you may as well buy me lunch.”

She takes his hand in hers casually, leading him without letting go, and Connor thinks that he would buy her anything in the world if she asked.

Connor is a simp, okay? I don't make the rules 🤷🏻‍♀️

#ask meme #fall asks

[jgnico]

🌤

🌧 ANGST >:)

🌪

These are all gonna be from different WIPs cause I have way too many lol. Also, sorry in advance for the long answers, I tried to include context for what's going on.

🌤️Share your favorite piece of dialogue from your WIP.

"That's why we'd all work on it, silly." Vash says, tone suddenly sober and serious, and Nick wonders if the four shots of tequila –bleh– that he downed at the beginning of the night were finally starting to wear off. "Oh, I know! I could ask Nai to help!"

On second thought, maybe they really, really weren't.

He opens his mouth to point out that Nai would probably rather get ran over by the ugly ass bus in front of them than help them repair it, but Millie cuts him off with an excited sound.

"I'm sure he'd love to help." She says with the confidence of someone that Nai didn't outright hate. So far only she and Vash had the privilege of being on that exclusive list, as far as he knew.

"You're right!"

"She's really not." Nick tells him. Someone has to be the voice of reason in their group, and Meryl – who normally took up that job – is currently nodding off against Millie's hip.

"What do you mean? Nai could never say no to me."

–

"No."

Nai tries not to feel bad when Vash –who had stumbled out of his room like a zombie after sleeping half the day away and drug him up a hill to look at the broken down monstrosity currently in front of him– slumps dejectedly over his donut.

Unsurprisingly, it isn't that hard.

🌧️Share something angsty from your WIP.

The first thing he sees is the curse, an overgrown pelican with a few too many wings, and then a short distance away, a group of people that seem to be more interested in their surroundings than whatever Geto is saying to Yuuta. There's an arm draped over his student's shoulders and sickly-sweet nonsense rolling off his tongue and it's wrong. It's all wrong.

Because he looks healthier than Gojo remembers, color high in his cheeks and hair that's longer, shinier, no longer threatening to tangle and break after a few too many days without care.

You're beautiful, he had wanted to say so many times, back when he could have, but hadn't. It presses against his teeth now, sits on his tongue like syrup, like his residuals. Sweet in a way that isn't, that's disgustingly bitter underneath.

Instead, he says, "Now, now, don't be spouting crazy talk to my students."

He keeps his tone light, but Geto's cursed energy flinches, even as he turns to smile at him.

"Satoru!!" He calls back, like they're still teenagers. Like they haven't spent the last ten years separated by distance and grief and Geto's own decisions. It makes the part of him that never stopped loving him ache.

🌪️Sum up a WIP with a few fic tropes/Ao3 tags.

Sukuna | Ryoumen Sukuna/Uraume, Heian Era, Slow Burn, Angst, Pining, Hurt/Comfort, Canon Typical Violence, Getting Together, Major Character Death

#i picked the first one cause it makes me laugh every time i read it #also idk if the stsg one is considered angsty??? #answers #crow with a book #ngl i'm almost completely convinced that I'm a bad writer but 🤷🏾🤷🏾🤷🏾

[mango-bango-bby]

mafiadabihawks where its still in the readers ‘having a favorite’ stage and they let keigo makeout w them, but thats dabis breaking point and he scares the reader

(you could also incorporate the other ask where the reader apologizes to him and admits they were just afraid)

-🌧

♡ Fights Happen ♡

(A/N: Once again, I don’t have any Haikyuu requests right now!! So if you have any Haikyuu requests please do send them to me 💖 But other than that, I hope you enjoy this fic, I have almost only requests for this series 😭😭)

Content Warning ⚠️: Yandere, MAFIA AU, making out, fighting, a lot of fighting

Summary: Out of your two captors, you prefer Keigo more than Dabi. This however leads to a fight between both men (Yan!Dabi x Gn!reader x Yan!Hawks)

Masterlist ➸ ♡

Series Masterlist ➸ ♡

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

It was quite obvious that you had a favorite out of your two captors. Although they were both scary, you really thought that Keigo was the least scary out of the two. He was more easily approachable than Dabi was. You’re not sure why however you felt as though he would be uncomfortable with intimacy. You’re really not sure why but you believe that.

Because of this favoritism, you let Keigo give you affection and you even gave him affection back. They both took turns taking care of you while the other one ‘worked’ with their illegal mafia activities. Today was Keigo’s turn to look after you which quickly lead to something different.

It wasn’t unusual for Keigo to kiss you, even Dabi would force you to kiss him. But today you were kissing Keigo back. Your much softer lips on his. “Y’know, birdy, Dabi’s gonna be upset about this when he finds out” Keigo says when he finally pulls away from your lips, leaving your heaving as your finally able to breathe again.

“I-Is he?” You ask quietly, although you don’t get answer before Keigo pulls you back in for another kiss, his fingers threading into your hair as he cradles the back of your head. His other hand rests on your waist, rubbing circles into your skin. You hope that what Keigo said wasn’t true, even if you feared Dabi more than Keigo you still didn’t want him to be upset for not including you.

Although you quickly figure out that he is in fact upset because not soon after you’re dragged off of Keigo’s lap by a furious Dabi. “We decide to share them yet you seem to have much more of them than I do, judging by the fact your tongue was just down their fucking throat” Dabi says, the sarcastic tone in his voice not covering up the obvious anger.

You try to step forward after being dragged off of him so you can step in between them because you know they’ll most likely fight. You’re not able to step forward though as Dabi pushes you behind him, not hard enough to hurt you but hard enough to scare you into not moving in front of him.

“It’s not even that big of deal, you’re just jealous that they’re willing to kiss me” Keigo quips back, not knowing how else to respond. Dabi only scoffs at him before speaking. “You’re so fucking lucky that Y/n’s in here, if I did care about their wellbeing I’d burn you to a crisp” He says raising his voice as he keeps talking.

Now it Keigo’s turn to scoff, he can understand why Dabi’s upset but he also enjoys that you like him. “And you wonder why Y/n doesn’t like you, maybe it’s because you act like this?” Keigo says, his voice snarky. Dabi can feel his body heat up at his words, his quirk always seemed to act up when he got upset.

Dabi didn’t even care that you were here anymore, neither did Keigo. Both men seemed to just hate each other in the current moment and neither of them cared if you were watching. You could just close your eyes. Before Dabi can take a step forward you pull him back with your arms wrapped around his waist.

It was only then that the room became silent, both men finally hearing your small sobs. You let out your cries on Dabi’s back as you hug him from behind. You just hate when they fight, you know you should give them equal attention but you didn’t and now they were fighting.

“I-I’m sorry” you hiccup, hoping that they just stop. “Please don’t fight, I don’t want you t-two to fight” You mumble, tightening your arms around his waist. Your quiet sobs are enough for both men to look at each other and communicate a silent agreement.

They wouldn’t fight anymore, not in front of you at least. Plus Dabi even if not getting the same amount of attention as Keigo, he was content with you hugging him from behind right now. Plus he would be the one watching you tomorrow, so he’d be able to get back at Keigo then.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵ Thank you for reading, darling!!

#soft yandere #yandere bnha #yandere dabi #yandere!dabi #soft yandere dabi #yandere dabi x reader #yandere!hawks #yandere hawks #yandere hawks x reader #yandere!keigo #yandere keigo #yandere keigo x reader #yandere takami keigo

[sleptwithinthesun]

ahhh for the fall prompts maybe 🌧 for bucky + anyone!

ooh, anon, this feels like it'll be super fluffy... hope you like the fill :D i'm so so sorry this took about eight thousand years to fill and i want to thank you for the request!! here's 1.6K words of fic for you :)

(fill for 🌧 on the fall snz prompts list... written for b/ucky b/arnes and s/am w/ilson from t/fatws, though tisn't s/ambucky.)

It starts drizzling the second they get out of the field.

Normally, this wouldn't be an issue. Sam spent the majority of his childhood on a boat; he's used to getting sprayed by sea foam. It's not like a bit of rain is going to bother him in the slightest. But Bucky, on the other hand...

He glances over at the supersoldier, wincing in sympathy when he sees Bucky scrubbing roughly at his nose. It already look pink and irritated, a look Sam's grown used to seeing on Bucky's features. Apparently, the constant in-and-out of cryostasis HYDRA had put him through had messed with his immune system, and considering everything that's happened since then, it's not a surprise that it arbitrarily decides to completely drop the ball every couple of weeks. It's a miserable but constant occurrence in Bucky's life and something they've both simply had to adapt to.

The point being: Bucky gets sick a lot. Sam helps the best he can.

"You alright?" Sam asks, trying to check in with him subtly, not that it really looks like he needs to. Bucky's distracted, staring blankly at the ground as the raindrops splatter on the asphalt, his eyebrows drawn together in thought. "Bucky, hey."

Bucky glances up at him, eyes wide like he just noticed Sam's talking to him. "What? I'm fine," he dismisses immediately.

"What's going on in that big cyborg brain of yours?" Sam teases, grinning at him and nudging his bicep with an elbow. It's almost easy to forget they were both just in a fight on top of two moving trucks.

Bucky sighs, giving him a sidelong glance before replying, "Sam. Every single one of those people were supersoldiers, don't you think we should be a little more concerned about that than how I'm doing? I mean, how do they even exist?" He scrubs viciously at his nose as he finishes speaking then glares at Sam when he reaches out to pull his arm down. "Quit it. I'm fine."

Sam raises an eyebrow, but drops the subject for now. "If you say so." But before he can move onto the topic of the apparent existence of other supersoldiers besides Bucky, he's interrupted by a truck pulling up next to them and two honks in quick succession. He barely manages to stifle a groan as he sees John in the back, sharing a quick look with Bucky before he starts speaking to them.

"So that didn't go as planned, huh?" he asks, opening the back of the truck to allow the two of them to jump in. Sam keeps walking, though, and Bucky follows his lead, staunchly avoiding John's gaze and scrubbing at his face. Sam presses his lips together, knowing they need to get inside, and soon. "Look, at least we know what we're up against now. And we're pretty sure it's one of the Big Three, so..."

"Aliens, androids, or wizards?" Sam asks, indulging him for a second.

John nods in confirmation. "Pretty sure."

Bucky finally looks up, jaw set so firmly the muscle's spasming. "There's no such thing as wizards," he objects, unable to keep the undertone of frustration out of his voice.

"Then it's aliens, or androids," John amends, oblivious not only to Bucky's anger, but also to the full picture. (Seriously, him? Whoever's in charge of making these kinds of decisions should just pack up and leave while they're already down.)

Sam glances over at John. "Or supersoldiers."

"Shit," interjects the guy across from John. He had some sort of space-y name, Battleship or Galaga or something like that. "Supersoldiers, for real?"

"Yeah." Sam cuts him a look and John follows the action, also glancing over at his partner before raising his eyebrows in surprise.

"Wow. Alright, well, then we've got to work together."

"That's not happening," interjects Bucky, barely a second after John finishes his sentence. He's getting angrier with the back-and-forth, that much is obvious, but Sam's starting to think there really isn't another option right now. Goddamnit.

John sighs, holding out a hand in platitude before pointing at himself and the two of them as he speaks. "I think we stand a much better chance if we all just—"

"Just 'cause you carry that shield, it doesn't mean you're Captain America," Bucky snaps, clearing his throat after he speaks. The drizzle is starting to pick up, turning into true rain, and Sam tries to send Bucky a look, let him know that they just have to go along with this for now, but he's looking staunchly ahead and ignoring Sam.

"Maybe not to you, but I am to the rest of the world," he says, tone scarily cold for a couple second before returning to its previous attempt at charm and charisma. "Come on, it's 20 miles to the airport, you guys need a ride. Guys. Gary, stop. Get in."

Bucky finally looks over to Sam, eyes unguarded and asking for him to just deny John's offer, despite the rain that's definitely headed towards a downpour, given the way the wind's picking up and the low rumble of thunder Sam can hear off in the distance. If they were in different circumstances, Sam would brush off John's proposition in a heartbeat, but with the way Bucky's face is losing color and the steadily worsening weather...

"Fine," Sam says, clambering in. Bucky makes no effort to hide his distaste for their company, sitting as far away from both John and the other guy as he can, given the small space. "Can't you put up a tarp, or something like that?"

John scoffs at him, eyes narrowing in condescending disbelief. "What, you can't deal with a little bit of rain?" Sam bites back on a retort, making incredulous eye contact with Bucky instead as John speaks again. "Okay, so we've got eight supersoldiers on a bulk supply run. Why?"

Sam, still trying to process John's attitude, speaks haltingly to him. "They say their mission is to get things back to the way it was during The Blip... maybe they're just trying to help."

"That serum doesn't exactly have a great track record," John says, and fuck, it's practically a cue.

Bucky finally surrenders to his body, buckling forward with a quick fit of harsh sneezes that he barely manages to cover. "h'ESHH! ESH'uh! H'ESH-SHUHH!"

"Bless, man," Sam says, glancing at him worriedly. "You alright?"

Bucky nods, ducking his head in embarrassment. "Yeah. Sorry."

"As I was saying," John interrupts pointedly, staring Sam right in the eyes but continuing to avoid looking at Bucky. "We have an issue here, can we deal with it?"

"Could you give us a second?" Sam snaps, not waiting for an answer before he scoots slightly closer to Bucky. "Talk to me," he mutters, low enough that John and Lemar won't hear.

Bucky sniffles, driving another sneeze, this time stifled, into his shoulder. "g'KTCH! Fuck, I'm sorry. I'm messing this whole thing up, aren't I." It's not as much as question as it is a statement of fact, and Bucky just sounds so dejected it's all Sam can do not to draw him into a hug right then and there.

The rain is still picking up, audibly hitting the truck now, and even John is starting to look bothered by it (although, that might just be his general disposition). Sam's really not looking forward to walking back to their base in this weather, but if it's a necessary evil to get them away from John, Sam's willing to do it. It just depends on if Bucky wants to as well.

"You're not messing it up," Sam says. "I don't like him either, and honestly? I'm happy to have an excuse to leave. Are you up to walking the rest of the way back?" Bucky nods, sniffling again and clearing his throat as Sam turns, not looking at John, and calls to the driver. "Stop the car!"

"What are you doing?" John hisses as they both stand up, stepping out of the back of the truck. "We have important matters—"

"We can handle it," Sam tells him. "Come on, Buck. Let's go." It feels more like showmanship than a genuine conversation, but he really doesn't have the energy to continue talking with this guy.

He places a supportive hand on Bucky's back once they're out of sight and can literally feel his ribs expanding as his breath hitches with a frantic kind of desperation. "Just let it happen, man, don't worry about it," he whispers, and Bucky nods breathlessly in response. He's still audibly hitching, coming closer to actual pants at this point with how fast and heavy they're getting, and the dam finally breaks.

The rain starts pouring down on them when Bucky loses any semblance of control he had, falling victim to the will of his nose. "hhH-hIH-HIH'SHHt! SHHUH! ePT'SHUH!" He's bent over with the force of the sneezes, all of them thick and wet and throat-scraping. "h'ESHH-ESHH-h'ESHIEW!"

"Jesus, man, bless," Sam says, watching as Bucky drives a final triple into his elbow before catching his breath. "That was... intense."

"Thangks. Againd, I'mb sorry," Bucky tries, shielding his face from the rain. "Godd, I stdill feel ligke I have to sndeeze."

Sam puts his hand back on Bucky's shoulder, rubbing it gently. "We'll be back in less than twenty minutes, alright? Then you can sneeze as much as you need to."

Bucky laughs lightly, leaning a little more into Sam's touch as they continue down the road. It should seem more intimate than it actually is, but for whatever reason, it just feels right.

This is improvement.

#askbox #promptfic #t/fatws snzfic #snzfic #t/fatws #s/am w/ilson #b/ucky b/arnes #swts fic

[luna-redamancy]

Thranduil Masterlist

☼ -Fluff

☾ - Angst

☠ - Trigger warning  

✧ - Alternate Universe fic

❤ - Smut

© - Commission

Imagines With No Reader:

Puzzle Pieces 🌧

Little Meddler ☼

When the princess of Mirkwood gets bored, she tends to meddle. Grandfather Thranduil x Grand-daughter! Reader -Familial relationship. 

Read it ☞ here

Stay ☾

After years of feeling neglected, you decide to leave.

Read it ☞ here

Ice and Roses ☼

Thranduil finds a young elleth amongst his rose-garden and decides to teach her about them.

Read it ☞ here

Forgive Me, My Love ☾

“I’d rather die, than to never be able to feel love ever again in my long life.” - Cursed with Hanahaki disease, you choose to suffer rather than give up the ability to love. 

Read it ☞ here

Spot the Queen ☼

Hiding from your parents was not an easy feat, but you’ve somehow done it. Now you and Thranduil engage in a silly game... Spot the queen.

Read it ☞ here

Crazy ☾ 

There was once a story of an Ice King sitting upon his throne, waiting for the perfect woman to become his queen. For years he had sat alone, plotting, obsessing, and developing a plan to keep them by his side for all eternity. But besides that, a hole of loneliness began to grow.

All he wanted was someone to love.

Read it ☞ here

Obsession ☼ ❤

There was once a story of an Ice King sitting upon his throne, waiting for the perfect woman to become his queen. For years he had sat alone, plotting, obsessing, and developing a plan to keep them by his side for all eternity. But besides that, a hole of loneliness began to grow.

All he wanted was someone to love. And you are it. - A happier more romance take on Crazy. 

Read part one ☞ here , and part two ☞ here 

Peculiar ☼

Headcanon with Thranduil, Elrond, Lindir, and Haldir: React to meeting and being in a relationship with a reader who has dark blue hair, pierced ears, tattoos on her arms and back and two different coloured eyes

Read it ☞ here

Panic ☼ ☾ (light angst)

Losing an heirloom is never fun, but when it’s something as precious as your grandfather’s necklace? Panic ensues. 

Read it ☞ here

Composing ☼

Having a musical block is something you wouldn’t wish on anyone, luckily your muse is here to inspire you. 

Read it ☞  here

Radiance ☼

Thranduil is entranced by your radiance at a dinner party. 

Read it ☞ here

My Name Isn’t Lee, It’s Thranduil ✧☼

Working as a costume designer, you’ve seen and done a lot of things. But finding an elf in a box of fabric wasn’t something you ever expected to do. 

Read it ☞ here

Lonely  ☾ ☼

After the loss of his wife, Thranduil is so lonely. Can you love the lonely out of him?

Read it ☞ here

I Promised  ☼☾✧

When you died, Thranduil promised himself that if he ever met you again he would protect you with all he could. 

Read it ☞ here

Hold on ☾ 

Drabble based on the prompt “Just wait a little longer, we’re almost there.” 

Read it ☞ here

Rage ☼☾

When having a rage attack, Thranduil is the only one who can calm you down. 

Read it ☞ here

Scars  ☼ ☾

Thranduil and you, a member of his guard, bond over scars. 

Read it ☞  here

So Beautiful ☼ 

Thranduil takes the opportunity to remind you how beautiful you are, no matter the scars littering your skin. 

Read it ☞ here

Stressed Out ☼ 

Living with Thranduil for so many years, you became familiar with the signs that would display on him whenever he was stressed. Today, you help him relax. 

Read it ☞ here

Horseback Riding ☼ 

You were awful at horseback riding, and were not having a good time. Thranduil will have none of that. 

Read it ☞ here

Taking Care ☼

Thranduil takes care of you after you’ve had top surgery.

Read it ☞ here

You Need Not Look Over Your Shoulder ☼☾

When your abusive ex comes around, Thranduil makes sure to remind you that you are safe with him.

Read it ☞ here

Updated July 9th, 2022

#Thranduil x Reader #Lee pace #thranduil oropherion #the hobbit #elvenking #masterlist #character masterlist

[pluviophile-imagines]

In Your Arms Masterlist

i wish time would just stop when i’m in your arms

A collection of short fics about cuddling with various characters, with no particular organization and updated entirely on the author’s whim. Characters to be added as inspiration demands

Hawks

Shigaraki

Bakugo

Aizawa (COMING SOON)

#bnha x reader #bnha imagines #hawks x reader #hawks imagines #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki imagines #aizawa x reader #aizawa imagines #mine.🌧 #fic.🌧 in your arms #char.🌧 shigaraki #char.🌧 hawks #char.🌧 bakugou

[mango-bango-bby]

okay okay !! what abt a fic of dabi and his proud little sibling actually meeting the league ? maybe something happens and the police or heroes catch on and hes like oh fuck i gotta hide them. like all of the members just like ‘😧??? dabi has another sibling wtf ???’ LIKE I FEEL LIKE ITD BE A REALLY INTERESTING CONCEPT -🌧

♡ Night, Kid ♡

(A/N: Alright, if you follow my spam blog, you might know, but I’ve actually been wanting to make a Platonic!LOV + Big Brother!Dabi x child!reader. And I think I might consider this a prequel to that series I might do?? I’m not sure, I don’t know anyone will read it if I make that series 💖 But I might do if y’all like it!! Anyways, I loved writing this, I think platonic yanderes are adorable!!!)

Content Warning ⚠️: Yandere, children, me not knowing how to write the League in one room together

Summary:  Dabi’s apartment is found by heroes and police so he has no choice but to take you, his four year old sibling, to live in the League’s base (Yan!platonic!Dabi x GN!child!reader + Platonic!LOV x GN!child!reader)

Masterlist ➸ ♡

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Dabi could almost laugh knowing how you two must look right now. A villain, walking on the streets of the bad side of town, holding the hand of a small child. You happily walk beside your big brother, jumping over the cracks in the street as you do so.

Dabi wasn’t the most fit for taking care of a child but he was better than his father. Even if he had to leave his apartment because heroes were onto him. They possibly found out where he lived with you and he wasn’t going to take the chance of you being taken away from him.

So your big brother packed most of your things into a bag, and brought you with him to go stay at the League’s base. He carried a bag on his back filled with your essential things and you carried a small butterfly backpack on your back with your toys that he’d stolen from you. He knew that a four year old being in a place full of villains was dangerous but he knew he would kill any of them in an instant if they landed a finger on you.

You hum happily, still skipping over the cracks in the street. You look up at Dabi, giving him a big smile. Dabi may not be the best big brother but he was happy in the fact that you were so happy in a world of hate. He was able to shield you from the world.

Eventually your brother brings you to a stop, unlocking a large rusty door before pushing it open. He lets you in first, seeing you hold the teddy bear in your arms tighter  at the unfamiliar setting. Dabi and you casually walk in, Dabi not even looking at the other villains to address you.

“Every time you enter this bar, there’s something new” Mr. Compress says sighing. You look up at the masked man, waving at him before using your hand to make your teddy bear wave too. Your Rilakkuma teddy bear was your favorite, the one you held right now. Sure it was a bit tattered up but you still loved it.

Dabi tries to pull you back to the room that was designated as his, but no one is going to just not question this. You wave at the blonde girl, watching her face irrupt into a large catlike grin.

“Oh my goodness! You are so cute!” Toga squeals, kneeling down to your level as quickly as she can. You back up a bit, hiding behind your brothers leg. “And your little sweater is so adorable! My name is Toga, let’s be friends!” She gushes, Dabi still trying to hide you behind his leg.

“My name is Y/n! And this is Rilakkuma!” You gesture to yourself before holding our your teddy bear to her. You look up behind Toga, seeing the face of Shigaraki staring down at you. Toga still smiling at you and bending to your level

“What is that and what is it doing here” Shigaraki huffs at Dabi, Dabi placing his hand on your head noticing the slight fear you show to the other man. Toga gets up, getting out of the line of talking as she doesn’t want to be in their fight.

“This is my sibling, my apartment was found by the police and heroes, so they’re staying here with me” Dabi says, keeping his voice calm and collected despite the anger he felt at Shigaraki calling you an it as if you were not a child.

Before Shigaraki can say another word, Dabi takes a step forward. “I’m an essential part of this team and if you force the kid to leave, I’m leaving” Dabi says, already getting defensive over you before Shigaraki’s even asked you to leave.

You grab the backpack off your back, looking up the the blue haired man in front of you. He seems angry, or at least he looks angry. You know exactly what makes you less angry and it might help him too! Your plushies! You grab a frog stuffed animal out of your back, holding it out to Shigaraki.

“For you” you say, waving it at him. Shigaraki looks down at you, then the stuffed animal you hold out for him. He clicks his tongue at you before simply walking away, he’s just not good with children.

You reach up and grab Dabi’s hand again, skipping through the bar as Dabi leads you to the room you and him will be staying in. At least until he can find a new apartment to live in with you.

You smile when you walk into the room, Dabi throwing the bag on the bed and opening it. You copy your brother, throwing your small backpack full of toys and opening it. Although after you do that, you jump on the bed. “For you, shrimp” Dabi says, giving you your blanket because he knows you’re tired after walking so far (even if he carried you half of the time).

“Goodnight, grumpy” You say, slipping under the fluffy blanket, closing your eyes.

“Night, kid”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵ Thank you for reading, darling!!

#soft yandere #yandere bnha #platonic yandere #platonic yandere dabi #platonic yandere Dabi x reader #yandere dabi #yandere!dabi #yandere dabi x reader #soft yandere dabi