#God; I hate the wc fandom.

[willoffate]

"if you send shit of related cats I'll kill you"

Not everyone is able to fucking keep track of which cats are related in a series with probably like over a thousand characters, dipshit. Not even the fucking writers can keep track. Shut the fuck up with your aggression.

[lesbianturrets]

I either get really excited when talking about Wof, Warriors, and TGS. Thags it.

[dragoncarrion]

Idc idc bluefur should've killed thistlepaw in bluestars prophecy the moment he got annoying

[rqgnarok]

standing ovation - jamie tartt

fandom: ted lasso

wc: 2321

warnings: mentions of jamie’s dad and DV, spoilers for ted lasso’s mom city. reader uses female pronouns. 

summary: reader sneaks into training grounds after richmond’s win against man city. seeing her is just what jamie needs. 

author’s note at the end!

There’s something in the air.

Jamie’s pretty sure Will sprayed some lavender shit all over the locker room again but that’s not quite what he means– he’s said goodbye to every single one of his teammates and all the coaches– and the locker room is now his and his alone. He locks away his dad’s ghost by locking up his phone, the simple message doing wonders to finish lifting that weight off his shoulders.

He wasn’t at the game. Or maybe he was, Jamie realizes now that it doesn’t really matter. A part of him will never stop looking over his shoulder whenever he visits his hometown for his dickwad of a father, but the older, bigger part of him knows Coach was right– his motivation doesn’t come from hating his dad anymore and it doesn’t have to. His forgiveness is for himself, for the little boy that had to build a mask to save himself from his dad, and for the man he is today because of him– and because of his mum, Keeley, Roy, Ted, his teammates–

The standing ovation at the end was more of a benediction than he’d like to admit. Everything about his hometown made him feel prickly; like he was a virus the town was doing its best to reject, and other than his quick visit to his mom Jamie expected the whole thing to be a disaster. The kids on the street, the people on social media, the rude assholes in the bleachers– Jamie thought that was all he was gonna get. Blind, thoughtless hatred despite Jamie trying his best.

He remembers Roy getting a standing ovation on his last game, while Jamie was still wearing Man City blue. He’d been appalled, unable to discern the possibility of someone hating you so much they respected you. All he’d ever gotten– from his dad, rival teams, his own team– had been everything except respect.

But they’d clapped for him. They thought him deserving of something precious and somehow it feels like permission. He can play for himself. He can come home without his dad’s ghost belittling him for not turning out the way he expected him to. 

Even Manchester hasn’t been home in a long time. Sure, his mom and Simon are there, but Richmond has his family, too– his friends, his teammates, his–

“Excuse me, I’m looking for my boyfriend. 5’9 not quite 6 foot, sexy as hell, the most fantastic football player to ever walk on Earth?”

Jamie’s lips involuntarily twist up as he glances at the door. (Y/N)’s a sight wearing her Richmond TARTT jersey, looking disheveled and flushed like the rest of the city probably is right now after their win tonight. 

Jamie doesn’t give a shit about the rest of the city, though. At least not right now. He cares about his girl sneaking in (with Keeley and Roy’s permission and advice, probably) to see him, normal sleep schedule be damned. 

He laughs, loud and unrestrained joy lighting up his features as he hobbles towards his girlfriend, letting himself be enveloped in a crush-tight embrace.

“Did ya watch it?” he wonders, forgoing his usual shy demeanor whenever (Y/N) praises him and just allowing his excitement to overflow, arms going around (Y/N)’s waist and hoisting her off the ground.

“Did I watch it, he asks,” (Y/N) scoff is downplayed by her big grin and the way she wraps her arms around Jamie’s neck as he spins her around, fucked up ankle be damned. “I couldn’t take my fucking eyes off of you, Jamie, oh, my God–”

She’s kissing him deeply, unable to contain her excitement. 

“You’re so fucking brilliant,” she whispers against his mouth, her hands at the nape of his neck making him shiver into her embrace, unable to get enough. “Oh, Jamie, that assist– the entire play for Colin’s goal? Your goal–”

“It was for you,” he tells as he drops her off, cupping her face in his hands and cheeks hurting with how wide he’s smiling. “I couldn’t celebrate but it was for you. For you and me mum, you were with me on the pitch the whole time–”

He stumbles a little as he drops her on the ground and (Y/N) tenses in his arms. She looks him over, suddenly worried. “Oh, shit. Your ankle, dumbass, are you okay? Fuck, did I–”

“Angel,” the nickname has her melting almost immediately just like he thought it would, a five-word weapon he’s never gotten tired of wielding. (Y/N) pouts at him, still concerned, and Jamie can’t have that, he kisses the expression off her face immediately. It should be illegal for her to be sad, no, sir. “‘s not even a sprain. It was probably the panic of bein’ in the same place as me dad, to be honest.”

Something steely flashes through her eyes, there and gone in a second, at the mention of Jamie’s dad. (Y/N)’s never been anything other than kind about it, but Jamie doesn’t doubt she’d beat the old fart up if she were given the chance. 

The thought only makes him smile.

“Did you? See him?” she wonders cautiously. She’s touching him again after her moment of hesitation over his injury, hands doing soothing motions up and down his sides. Jamie fights off a shiver.

“Nah,” he says simply as if the thought of crossing paths with him didn’t have him toeing the line of a panic attack the entire three days they were in Manchester. “I don’t know if he was there, and if he was, I didn’t see him. I don’t think I care anymore. It’s for the best, really.”

(Y/N)’s expression brightens, though they both know they’re not done talking about it. Jamie wishes it could be as easy as turning off his phone and forgetting about his dad, but his skin already itches a little with the idea of getting a text back from him. He’s also no doubt that (Y/N) will hold him throughout it all. 

“I did see me mum.”

“How is my favorite Tartt?” she teases.

“Happy,” Jamie says softly, always the most important thing to consider when it comes to his mother. Ever since he was a toddler and he gained acknowledgment of his dad’s actions; after an especially gruesome argument that ended with his dad breaking a few photo frames and plates, stumbling his way out of the apartment, and slamming the door shut, Jamie would climb on his mom’s lap and wipe her tears as best he could with his tiny clumsy baby fingers. “Yeah, she was real happy. And for me, too. Even before the match, she was happy to see me, happy to… jus’ happy.”

“That’s good, sweetheart,” she threads her fingers through Jamie’s hair to keep it off his face, his headband lost somewhere in his lockers or amongst the rest of the dirty laundry. He’ll have to tell Will to watch out for it, he’s a little attached to it after the night he’s had. 

Jamie’s usually not the one to believe in lucky garments or charms but– well. He feels pretty lucky right now; that (Y/N) saw some worth in him when they met and makes the choice to love him and come home to him, day after day, whatever the outcome may be. 

(Y/N) looks at him adoringly like she knows what he’s thinking. “Did’ya get your wings back, then?”

Jamie grasps her hand in his and turns to kiss the inside of her wrist, only slipping a little bit of tongue. “Nah. They was never gone. All I needed was a little help to see.”

He frowns before (Y/N) can answer. “I was gonna say something stupid like ‘you’re me wings’ but that’s disgusting and I hate it. I would never say something like that. ‘m not Roy.”

(Y/N)’s laugh is surprised and comes deep from her belly. “Are you telling me Roy Kent’s a secret romantic?”

“Big old softie, that tosser,” he rolls his eyes. “He snuck you in for me, didn’t he? That’s all you need to know about–”

(Y/N) shuts him up with a kiss just because she can, and they’re both smiling too hard for it to be a proper one. 

She says “He likes you. He’s proud of you. We’re all so proud of you,” while peppering kisses all over his face, landing on his cheeks, nose, temple, jaw, and corner of his mouth. “You’re so, so good, Jamie, I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” he says, because there’s not gonna be a single time in which she tells him that and he doesn’t reciprocate. “Mum said that, too. And Keeley and Roy. And Coach, too, I guess, in his own way. I wouldn’t have been able to do it without them.”

“I can’t believe I missed it,” (Y/N) pouts and beats herself up over it for the thousandth time. Jamie presses a kiss to the space between her eyes for the thousandth time in response. “I should’ve been there, I should’ve told my boss to go to hell–” 

“You’re here,” he tells her, shaking her a little by the shoulders and looking her over like he can’t quite believe it. That she’s here in the locker room, in his life, loving him like he’s always desperately wished for but never thought he’d deserve. “What was I gonna do, put my dumb ankle into ice and sit alone in the dark?”

“‘m sure Roy and Keeley would be here drinking champagne with you if I wasn’t here.”

“And what could we be doing that is keeping them away right now?” he raises his brows, sneaking a hand down her back lower, lower, lower–

(Y/N) slaps his chest, though a gleam in her eye tells him she’s not saying no to anything. “You’re…” she drifts off.

He smirks cockily. “Unbelievable?”

(Y/N) shakes her head imperceptively. “Nah. I always knew you could do it. But you’re breathtaking, I’ll give you that. As if your ego needs it.”

Jamie’s mouth softens into a smile, soft and apologetic. “I’m sorry.”

(Y/N) frowns a little at the sudden shift in conversation. “Whatever for?”

“I’ve been a dick these past couple of weeks–”

He had. (Y/N) won’t let him admit it but he wasn’t lying when he told Roy he wasn’t doing well. Not eating, not sleeping, waving off (Y/N)’s concern with a little too cold shoulder. It made him feel a little too much like his dad, and that thought only dragged him further down.

It had been (Y/N) who suggested Jamie pay a visit to his mom while in town for the game, and when he’d mentioned this to her she’d smiled knowingly, ran a hand through his hair, and made him promise an introduction soon. 

“You were anxious,” she corrects him with a shake of the head, won’t let him speak ill of himself when all he did was have a normal, human reaction to a very triggering situation. “And I’ve been worried about you but you don’t have to apologize, Jamie. Not to me, not in a million years.”

“Alright,” he says, soft and charmed. He soothes his thumb over her knuckles, featherlight. He looks down at their intertwined hands for a beat or two, gently swinging them back and forth. “Then can I apologize for shutting you out? I know you were only trying to help. I’ll do better next time at letting you know what I need.”

“And I’ll do better at listening,” she assures him with an indulgent smile, using her free hand to trace the Richmond crest of his shirt. “Look at us, communicating and shit.”

Jamie scrunches his nose in faux disgust. “Gross,” he says, but even the facade is too much to keep up when (Y/N) nudges his nose with hers. His lips tilt upwards against his best intentions, drunk on her presence and something inside his chest brimming with unstirred delight. 

(Y/N) exhales against his mouth. She hasn’t been more than a few inches away from him since she came down to meet him, always touching him.  

“What do you wanna do, huh?” she asks him, pulling at the bottom of his shirt. “Anything you want. We can go get some takeout from that burger place you like or maybe something fancier? We can go home and get some ice on that ankle–”

“It’s nothin’–”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” by that, she means when the team doctor gives him the all clear and he isn’t limping slightly with every step he takes. It’ll take a while but Jamie can take it, especially if any downtime comes with them spending the days together. She makes a questioning hum. “But we can do that tomorrow, then. Tonight, whatever you want. You’ve earned it.”

And Jamie does feel like a winner. Not only because of the three points they managed to steal from Man City but because he gets to come home to this. He gets to leave his dad behind in Manchester and his mom in safe hands, he gets to accomplish his dream for himself and the people that love him instead of trying to prove someone who hurt him wrong. 

He gets to live for himself. Coach Lasso was right, him forgiving his father was the kindest thing he could do for himself. 

“I want this,” he murmurs against her temple, breathing in the smell of her perfume and taking in the warmth of her body against his. “I got all I need right here.”

(Y/N) smiles and crowds even closer, pressing a kiss to his jaw. 

A beat. Then–

“So that’s a no for a quickie in the locker room, then?”

(Y/N)’s laugh tastes like a standing ovation.

_________

precious little jamiebaby i hope i did you justice ily

i was ready to make an angsty peace about him but mom city left me craving to give him a moment of peace so ta-da! thank you so much for reading and letting me know what you think!

a reminder that commissions and asks are open!

<3

masterlist / ao3 / ko-fi

[babiebom]

I noticed you write for mystic messenger!!! can i get some NSFW 707 headcanons?

A/N:yes!!!! I wanna get back into the fandom but haven’t played in a while~~ thank you for requesting!!

Tw:it’s nsfw so some sex talk is expected, cursing, kinks, some things that are unsavory towards religion, etc

Wc: at least 10 bullet points or so

Mystic messenger Masterlist

I feel like Saeyoung would like it if both of you dressed up or cosplayed during sex

This also counts towards role playing

Even though he’s religious I do think he has a bit of a corruption kink

And would like to roleplay as a or with you as a priest or a nun or even the other way as demons and angels

Using the religion as a Segway, he would be VERY worship-y towards you

Whether you take on a dominant or submissive role, he will always be into giving body worship and basically making his entire personality about you

He’s been alone for so long and you stayed and loved him you are his reason for being he HAS to make you feel good no matter what

And this can and will go as far as him saying you are his god or something (he is still religious though and it’s weird for other people but he knows how to separate the two thought processes)

Think God is a Woman by Ariana Grande

He would LOVE LOVE LOVE it if you got on your knees under his desk while he’s working

He would say that he hates it but he does love the little distraction so he can rest

And loves that you can allow him to keep working during, and that it allows him to work even better after

I think he would get very into it during sex

Like he is not himself he gets carried to a different universe while you two go at it

Like he is actually fucked dumb by you (or y’know while he fucks you)

Actually pussy/cock drunk and is not embarrassed about it

Has a slight exhibition kink and is a voyeur.

Though he doesn’t want other people to watch you two because he is possessive

He does like to watch you though

He’s a little creep about it(affectionate)

He will watch you touch yourself through a slit in the door, in a chair in the same room, through a window, through cameras

All is consensual though

I think he is a very big switch

Like some days he wants to be babied and is into receiving if that’s what you’re into and on others he’s like full dom

Both are ways for him to outlet his emotions

Does enjoy music with sex but it has to be SUPER low unless it’s on for the purpose of hiding your actions

Thinks the cbat Reddit sex story is hilarious and has probably tried it with you once just to see what the guy was talking about

[solarissun]

We are never, ever getting back together.

afab!reader x aged up Clapton Davis

Summary: You moved houses and jobs just to get away from Mike after he abandoned you and your 6-year relationship. But, one day he shows up in the vacant apartment next to yours. You quickly make it your mission to make every night a living hell for him with the (unknowing) help of your old high school fling.

WC: 3.9k

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, enemies to lover, afab reader, p in v, fingering, hair pulling, porn with plot, no use of y/n, hard dom, unprotected (wrap it please), angst, exes, daydreamed violence, aged up character

A/N: I’ve never posted my writing before due to being insecure, but now that I discovered this fandom on Tumblr, I decided to suck it up and see where it goes! I’m sorry if this is bad, I wrote it at 3 am two nights in a row. I just had to write something before I forgot all my ideas. Enjoy!

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You hated him. You hated him so fucking much. All you wanted to do was watch him wear your hands around his neck like a necklace. And there he was, standing outside the vacant apartment beside yours, cardboard boxes surrounding him.

⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎

You're running late to work, having slept through your alarm. You quickly hop out of bed, jump into the shower, and throw on whatever clean enough clothes are on your laundry pile.

As you run out your door, you pause, noticing the piles of boxes lining up the wall of the apartment next to yours. You smile, waiting for whoever it is to walk out. You honestly didn’t mind your previous neighbors. By all means, they weren’t the friendliest of people. They’d bang on your walls if you even played your music one digit too loud.

So, honestly, you couldn’t help but admit you were pretty happy when they moved out. As you eye the boxes that take up half the hall, you feel yourself getting excited.

After a few moments, you see him.

Your heart drops, and you feel your whole life falling apart in just one second. He turns to look at you, your eyes locked on each other. Both of you pause, not a word leaving your mouths.

Almost exactly 2 and a half years ago, the love of your life, the man you pictured spending the rest of your days with, left. He didn’t warn you, he didn’t even call. You came home, and all of his and his sister's belongings were completely cleared out of your apartment, gone without a trace. All he left you was a text. A single text.

“I found someone new, I’m sorry. I truly wish you the best. I hope someday you’ll forgive me.”

After a few months of rotting in your bed with mascara-stained pillows and tear-soaked bed sheets, you got tired of wasting away. You moved away to a new, cheaper apartment, not warning anyone of your departure. You wanted a fresh start. A new job, a new home. A new you. All you craved was a way to forget the past, and you were so close.

Except after 2 years, the past was standing in front of you, only a few feet away. Anger bubbles within you, the deep cuts he left when he abandoned you all of those years ago tearing open and filling with nothing but pure, burning hatred.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” You say, his face twisting.. into god knows what. You want to ask him so many questions. You want to get on your knees and beg him to tell you why he did what he did. At the same time, you want to sock him in his mouth. Instead of doing either, you turn on your heel, walking away as fast as you possibly can.

He doesn’t call after you, he doesn’t chase you. Instead, you hear the faint click of a door shutting behind you. Your anger turns to anguish as you hurry down the hallway, trying desperately to put as much distance between him and you before breaking down. You find a maintenance closet, slam it behind you, and sink to the floor. You sob until your throat is destroyed and your eyes are dry.

⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎

All you can think about while you work is him. Are you grading your students' homework? Mike. You’re yelling at your class for being too Rowdy? Mike. He lives in your head the entire day, and no matter how hard you try, all you can think of is the look on his face when he saw you just a few hours ago.

The school day is finally over, but you dread going home. You wish you could curl up under your desk and live there for the next few decades. But you can’t, so you suck it up and drive back to your apartment.

You get to your door, fumbling with your keys as you quickly try and escape the hallway. You hear the door next to yours click open. You rest your head against your door in defeat. He walks by you quickly, not even glancing towards you. You clench your fists, swinging your door open as soon as you unlock it, slamming it so hard behind you the frame shakes.

You want to cry, just like you did before. But no tears spill. Your eyes don’t even water. All you feel is rage.

You decide right then and there, you're going to make him suffer for what he did to you. Besides, maybe if you truly make him miserable he’ll move back to wherever the hell he came from.

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Later that night, you start plotting different ways you can get him to pack up his shit and run away with his tail between his legs. You think of hundreds of possibilities ranging from glitter bombs in his mail to… Clapton. You shake the thought out of your head immediately. You can’t do that to him. He’d probably be down for anything, to be honest.

Despite that, you tuck the idea into the back of your head, writing it off as a last resort. You want to start with more petty things before immediately jumping to the most extreme idea your mind can muster.

You quickly form a short list in your head, smiling as you daydream the look on Mike's face as you go through each scenario. Around midnight, after you finish coming up with every possible insane revenge plot you can think of, you crawl into bed.

After tucking yourself in, you Bluetooth your phone to a speaker, turning it up. You play the most infuriating, mind-numbing song you can think of. It starts blasting out, the speaker shaking on your bedside table. You sigh, sinking into your pillow as you hear Mike’s old bed springs creak through the wall.

You sit there for what feels like hours, the same song looping repeatedly. He doesn't knock on the door. You don't even hear him speak, let alone breathe through the wall. You groan, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you realize it might be pointless.

Despite your failure on the first night, you continue to blast the same song night after night, all with the same result. After almost 3 nights of getting only a few hours of sleep, you give up. You have to step up your game if you want to get results.

A few weeks pass without you tormenting him. You want to make him feel safe. You want to make him feel like you realized it was all a waste of time. Well, you also waited a few weeks since that's how long it took for the prank package you ordered to come. Sure, the package was a bit pricey, but you decided it was worth it either way. As soon as the post office stops by your apartment, you snatch up the box, almost ripping it out of the poor mailman's hands.

You quickly customize it so Mike believes not only is it his mail, but that some random man from Florida sent it. At first, you had thought to sneak into his apartment and throw glitter over everything, just like you'd do back in high school. But, you need to be careful about how you go about this. Unless you want a lawsuit to land in your lap, you need at least some amount of deniability

After deciding it's perfect, you leave it directly in front of his door. He might think the placement of the box is a tad suspicious, but you rationalize it by telling yourself he’ll feel so special he’ll open it on the spot.

After a few hours, Mike comes home from what you assume is work. A part of you wonders why in the world he works on the weekends as well. You forget about the thought quickly as you flip open your phone, watching through the camera that comes with the box. You watch in anticipation as you hear the sound of tape tearing off of the cardboard. Your smile widens as you see Mike's face appear in the frame, peeking into the box.

After a few heartbeats green, blue, and pink glitter explodes directly into his face. He yelps, dropping the box immediately. As soon as the box thunks against the door, more glitter explodes out, covering his entire living room. You hear him groan through the wall, grumbling about how petty and childish you are.

You’re laughing way too hard to even care he knew it was you. Tears start streaming down your face, and you clutch your stomach as you try to breathe. You finally got him. You feel on top of the world as you look at the camera through blurry eyes. All you see is a beet-red Mike decked out in sparkles. You start laughing even harder as he flips off the camera before stomping on it, destroying the feed.

⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎

Despite how his misery made you feel at first, you start to get a little less happy as the days pass by. He hasn’t talked to you about it and he hasn’t told anyone what went down, not even the landlord. A fraction of you begins to feel a little worried he might be planning. As you ponder the thought, you hear a knock on your door.

You creep over to the peephole, seeing no one standing at your door. You crack it open, worried Mike might be standing outside, waiting to ambush you. Instead of Mike standing around the corner with an airsoft gun, there's an Amazon package.

You smile, realizing exactly what it is. You ordered soundproof headphones so you could sleep while also torturing Mike. You quickly take it to your kitchen, tearing it open without a second thought.

What. The. Fuck.

Glitter sprays everywhere. Directly into your eyes, all over your dining table, all over the countertops. It even reaches the sink. You scream as you try and claw the glitter away from your face. As you stumble towards the sink, glitter continues to coat your entire kitchen.

This means war.

You immediately flip open your phone, not even bothering to clean the mass of glitter that’s coating your kitchen. You text the one person you know would do anything for you.

“I need you, Clapton.”

He found someone new? Well, so did you. And you’re going to do everything in your power to make sure he fucking knows.

⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎

During your high school years, you and Mike became inseparable. It was the two of you against the world... Until Clapton Davis came along. The three of you became the best of friends. You always knew Mike was jealous of Clapton and how much he captured your attention. Despite how you felt towards him while you were younger, you chose Mike. And he threw it all away for some random bitch.

So, now you’re choosing Clapton.

A month ago, you two decided to reconnect and reminisce about old times. You had him over a few times just to watch a few movies, but the most you’ve done is kiss. Every time he’d come over, you knew he wanted more. And he was getting exactly that.

You lay in bed, waiting for just the right time. Around 2 am, you smile to yourself as you faintly hear Mike shuffle into bed and sigh as he sinks into it. Thank god for the paper-thin walls. You reach over to your bedside table, squinting into the light. You flip to Clapton's contact and text, “Do you think you could come over right now?” You had originally told him to come over the next night, but it had to be at an ungodly hour, or it wouldn't be as satisfying. Almost immediately He texts you back, “Are you okay?”

“I just need to see you sooner.” He immediately texts back a thumbs up, and after a little over 10 minutes you hear a knock at your door. You unzip your hoodie, quickly making your way to the front of your apartment. You open the door and there he is. He clearly had just woken up, wearing a tank top and grey checkered pajama pants. A fraction of you feel bad for calling him over like this, but you push it aside and remember who’s sleeping just on the other side of your bedroom wall.

He raises his eyebrow, unsure of how to ask why you ‘needed him.’ You don’t give any explanation before you throw yourself at him. You wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him. He sucks in a breath, clearly confused. That confusion vanishes when you press yourself against him, pulling his waist against yours.

He wraps his arms around your waist, walking you into your apartment. He walks you backward, your back hitting the kitchen counter. You whimper as you feel him hoist your thigh up, holding it as his hip. Suddenly, he pulls away. Your eyes flutter open and you look up at him, your eyebrow furrowed. You sigh as you see him looking at your kitchen in utter confusion. “What in God's name happened?”

The kitchen is still completely decked out in glitter. The moonlight slithers its way through the window, illuminating the sparkles, making it look like a thousand stars splattered against the walls. You laugh a little, brushing it off. “Nothing Important.” He seems like he wants to say more, but as you grind your hips against his, he immediately forgets it. He groans, bending down to press his lips against your neck.

You tangle your hands through his hair as you feel his lips brush your neck. He starts sucking the skin below your pulse, making you whine into his ear. You gasp as you feel his teeth meet the plush skin, nipping at the sore spot. You slowly start grinding against him harder as his tongue swipes across the already numb skin. He groans against your neck, his breath hot against it.

His fingers slowly brush down your body, leaving goosebumps erupting on every inch he touches. His hand reaches your waistband, fiddling with the elastic. You whine against his shoulder as his fingers dip lower, rubbing your clit through the thin fabric. You slowly grind your hips against his finger, desperate for more friction. He picks you up by your thighs, his fingers digging into the skin. You wrap your legs tight around his waist, holding onto his neck. He quickly carries you to your bedroom, throwing you down as he reaches your bed. He lays you down, sliding next to you.

He presses his lips against yours again, this time wasting no time to dip his fingers into your panties, not even bothering to remove them. He drags his digits through your folds, circling your clit. “Shit, you’re already so wet.” He gasps out. His middle finger teases your entrance before slowly sliding in. He slowly pumps in and out of you, curling his fingers on the spongy parts inside of you, hitting all the right spots.

“You like that?” He asks, and you nod, unable to form a coherent sentence. You feel him add another finger and your walls clench around him. “Fuck!” You cry out, frantically grinding against the palm of his hand begging for more.

He adds a third finger, and you see stars. He pumps faster and faster, bringing you dangerously close to the edge. You just barely overplay your volume, remembering Mike. As soon as your legs begin to shake, he removes his fingers, ruining your orgasm and leaving you feeling empty. Your eyes flutter open and you stare at him, whimpering.

He slowly puts the fingers that were just inside you in his mouth, cleaning them off. You bite your lip as he blinks at you through his long eyelashes, savoring the taste. He smiles down at you once he’s done, sliding your zip-up off your shoulders. He slowly undresses you, a pile of clothes beginning to form on the floor. He leaves you in nothing but your panties. His breath hitches in his throat as he studies every curve of your body.

You do the same to him, helping him pull his shirt off his head. Your hands quickly fly down to his jeans, unbuttoning them and sliding them down to his ankles. His tight grey boxers leave little to the imagination as you see the outline of his hard-on, begging to be free. You do exactly that, pulling them off of him. His dick springs free, hitting his stomach.

Your eyes trail along every vein and detail, taking him in. He’s average, but somewhat girthy. The tip is hard and red, already leaking with pre-cum, slowly dripping down his shaft. You reach out, your thumb collecting it. You stare into his eyes as you suck it off of the pad, a bittersweet taste spreading across your tongue. As soon as your thumb pops out of your mouth, he grips onto your hips, pulling him on top of you. He slides your panties to the side and you moan feeling the cold air hit you. He slides his tip through your folds, collecting the wetness.

You slowly sink down onto him, gasping as his tip enters you. He grips your waist harder, holding you down. “You can take it.” He moans out. He slowly pushes himself in a little more, and you swear you hear him whimper. You cry out, laying down on his chest. “Shit!” He goes inch by inch, and you groan louder and louder as he fills you out.

He pushes in, faster this time, and you finally feel his hips meet yours. “You’re such- Shit! You’re such a good girl.” Suddenly, he grabs you harder by the waist, flipping you over. You gasp as your bare stomach meets the rough sheets of the bed. He grabs your hair, pulling you against his chest, somehow hitting so deep you see white.

You moan out his name louder and louder as each thrust inside of you quickens. He shoves you back down against the bed, thrusting so hard the headboard begins to slam against the wall. You smile into the sheets realizing the torture Mike must be going through right now. “You’re taking me so well…” He grumbles out, pushing deeper into you.

The smile is immediately wiped off your face as he moves one hand away from your hair and slithers it down to your clit. He rubs circles on it with 2 fingers. You grip your fingers into the bed sheets, screaming into the mattress. Your vision starts getting blurry as the knot in your stomach gets tighter and tighter. Pure euphoria tears through you as his fingers quicken as well as his hips.

“I’m close-“ He groans out as your walls clench around him. He rubs faster and faster circles on your clit and your legs start to shake uncontrollably. You scream louder and louder, and your walls start to spasm. Quickly you hurdle over the finish line, coming all over his dick. You feel tears running down your cheeks as you feel him release inside of you, his hips stuttering.

You call out his name one last time before he pulls out of you, lying down next to you. He looks over at you, tears spilling down your face and your fingers still bunched up in the bedsheets. He laughs as you give him a shaky smile.

“I’ve imagined that since grade 12..” He whispers out. He reaches towards you, brushing your hair that’s plastered to your face with sweat. “Me too..” You smile, moving forward to press your lips against his. He kisses you back, pulling you on top of him. He smiles up at you, his face flushed.

“Round two?”

⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎

Your eyes flutter open, the warm sun creeping through the blinds, bathing your room in a warm orange glow. You slowly reach next to you, feeling the muscles on Clapton's back. He stirs, turning onto his back. His eyes slowly open, and he slowly looks over at you. He stretches up, propping himself up on his elbows.

“I better go…” You get up as well, turning and placing your feet on the cold wood floors. You gather up his and your clothes from last night, handing them to him. After you're both dressed, you lead him to your front door. He opens it and steps out into the hallway, starting towards the elevator.

As soon as you hear Mike's door click open, you quickly grab Clapton's wrist, pulling him back towards you. You get on your toes, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him. He grabs your waist, pulling you against him. He slips his tongue in your mouth, his hand untangling your hair. After a few seconds, you pull away, resting your forehead on his.

“I’ll see you around?” He says, smiling. “Of course.” You grin, pecking his cheek. He unwraps himself from you, turns around, and walks away. He doesn’t even seem to notice his old best friend who is standing just a few feet away, watching.

Once Clapton’s out of sight, you turn to look at Mike. Oh, he looks absolutely wrecked. His curls are a tangled mess and the bags under his eyes are even deeper than you’ve ever seen them. He has the same look on his face you’ve seen him have when men would flirt with you on your dates. But, he also just looks.. sad. You expect him to turn back into his apartment and walk away but he speaks instead.

“The glitter wasn’t enough for you, huh?” You scoff, anger filling inside you at his audacity. “A girl can’t have fun?” He raises an eyebrow at you and a small smirk creeps onto his face. “You think I don’t know how purposeful that was? Do you have any respect for others?” You laugh, right in his face. His mouth twists into a nasty scowl, his stupid smirk wiping immediately off his face.

“Mike, I lost every bit of decency I had towards you when you abandoned me for some..” You don’t finish the sentence, instead letting his mind fill in the blank. He doesn’t look angry, he just looks disappointed. He looked at you like that when you were still together.

You’ve always hated that look.

He opens his mouth and closes it, clearly wanting to say something important but deciding against it. He shakes his head and turns back into his apartment, closing the door behind him softly.

You do the same, opening your door and sliding down with your back against it. You pull your knees up to your chest, rubbing the bruises on your sides that Clapton left. You rest your head on your knees and sigh.

“God, what am I doing?”

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

Hey, can you write something for Matt simmons? I love him. He and the reader are together, he never visits her apartment bc she a big nerd (actionfigures, books, DVDs, games,..) and she insecure about it (somesone said terrible stuff about it) but Matt is really interest in the stuff. Maybe with lots of fluff? I think that doesn't require a special season but i think the latest criminal minds seasons, where he is a part of the team is good! Thank you 🩷

༉‧₊˚. 𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 || 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬

— pairings: matt simmons x plus size fangirl!reader

— summary: there will always be a version of you that people are meant to see, even your super cool fbi boyfriend, because you think you might die if he finds out that you're a total - in your eyes - loser.

— warnings: insecurity, vague descriptions of fixation interests, the reader is kind of like all of us let's be real, and just a bunch of fluff!!

— wc: 651

⋆ a/n: slowly but surely getting around to my drafts!! this has sat in there for so long almost finished and i apologize for that! matt is a character i've never written for before, but i find that's easy to capture his personality. thank you for your request!! :]

masterlist | AO3

Living by yourself meant that you could decorate your home with your most prized possessions, but you choose to surround yourself with your special interests instead.

You loved your apartment, it was your safe space, your solace. There wasn’t an inch of your place of comfort that wasn’t covered by your most treasured memorabilia; posters, funko pops, action figures, you name it. If there was a kind of merchandise, you have it.

That’s why it felt like you were living a double life when you were with Matt; by day, you were his super cute – albeit basic looking – girlfriend. By night, you were a fangirl.

Your boyfriend had never been to your apartment, most of the time you had chosen to either go over to his place, or be picked up outside of your neighborhood. He never really questioned it, just smiling and saying ‘Hi’ after placing a sweet kiss on your lips.

So that begs the question: What the fuck was he doing here?

Standing by your front door dressed head to toe in a mix of your favorite fandoms – the pants your favorite tv show, and your shirt the other – you stared out of the peephole at the absolute meal that was your man.

You took a moment to look around; your living room was in utter disarray! Oh God, when was the last time you did laundry or the dishes?

He’s going to take one step in here then hit the ground running!

Matt has already knocked twice, and you watch as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, tapping on it for a moment before the one in your hand begins to ring.

You could ignore it yes, but you really wouldn’t put kicking the door down past him if he thought that something was wrong. Gulping, you answer and hold the phone to your ear, your singular eye still trained on him outside.

“Hi.” You wish your voice wasn’t as breathless as it sounded.  “Hey.” You could hear the amusement in his voice, and with the way he had that cheeky smile on his face.

There was a moment of silence, “So… are you going to let me in?”

“...No.” He just laughed, and finally looked up at the peephole, causing you to move away from it.

“And why is that?”

“Because…” You spared a look around the room, “It’s embarrassing.” 

“How is me coming to see you embarrassing?”

“It’s not that! It’s just- I have a bunch of stuff like… everywhere. I don’t want you to make fun of me.” You watched as he sighed.

“Baby,” He began, “When have I ever made fun of you for anything?”

He was right, and you hated it. “Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” With that, you hung up and unlocked the door.

Matt examined you from head to toe, his cheeky grin spreading even wider into a full blown smile. “Well, don’t you look cute.” He teased, pulling you into his arms to place a sweet kiss on your forehead.

“You don’t think it’s weird?” You mumbled into his strong chest.

You can tell he takes a really good look around your apartment before responding. “Nah, I’m glad you have hobbies, y’know?” Matt says. “You promise?” It was such a petulant thing to ask, but you knew that it would quell your anxiety.

His laugh is hearty, his chest reverberating due to the vibrations. “Of course sweetheart. Now, is there any other cool stuff you want to show me?”

You pull away and look at him with lit up eyes, “Yeah!” You tug him inside and lead him to your room where your other memorabilia lies.

Little do you know that Matt is taking note of everything you’re showing him, he’s even thinking about getting you guys matching pajamas. He thought you knew how much of a geek he was alongside you.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus @khxna

[wc-confessions]

i get really uncomfortable by how people talk about ivypool on here........ when ivypool's heart was announced i saw a concerning amount of posts that were mocking her for grieving bristlefrost's double death, just hating on her, saying how she did x but praising other characters for doing the exact same thing

this is especially weird bc this site will discuss the misogny in both the fandom and the books but the moment it's a female character that wasn't completely victimized by the narrative or god forbid has the same bad writing EVERY CHARACTER IN THE SERIES has suddenly people feel they have the freedom to just shit on her specifically because she's not a perfect victim to project angst headcanons onto like wc tumblr apparently gravitates to

.

[babygorewhore]

I’d never leave you

Tate Langdon x fem reader

Hurt comfort. WC. Just over 1k

Hi! So this is a Tate version of hurt comfort with a reader having both autism and BPD. My moots encouraged me to write this because of the inclusivity I bring with these disorders. It’s short. And I tried to keep Tate in character. But I hope you enjoy! This will be my latest AHS fic because I have a few other fandoms so it’ll be a while before my next!

Warnings! Autistic episode and BPD episode depicted. Anger! Destroying room. Hair pulling. Tate slightly misunderstands reader. Not proofread

Tate was frantic as he searched the murder house for you. He hadn’t talked to you in a few days. Close to a whole week. He tried so hard to respect that you asked him for space. He really did. But he heard whispers from the other ghosts that you were in a dark place.

You weren’t dead like him and he wanted to keep it that way. He would never harm you on purpose or let anyone hurt you. He had sulked around the shadows, remembering how it felt to hold you. Your arms were his favorite place to me.

Tate heard a loud bang. Then a crash. In your bedroom. His old room. Bursting through the door, Tate’s brown eyes widened as he took in the state of the space.

You were crouched down, your notebooks, jewelry and clothes thrown around you. The dresser was on the floor and drawers were pulled out and haphazardly scattered around you.

You had spoken about these episodes before. Tate understood you were autistic along with a personality disorder. You kept it away from him, insisting he couldn’t handle your mommy and daddy issues that caused some of it. He had begged for you to open up but that seemed to only make you pull away more.

Your face was deeply flushed, your hair ripped out of its previously style and Tate cringed when he saw a few chunks in your clenched fist that was against your head.

Tate rushed over to you, reaching out but you jerked back and started gaining your balance as you stood. “What are you doing in here? I told you to leave me alone!” He immediately felt hurt but he pushed it aside and scanned you. Your eyes were glazed over. He couldn’t tell if it was from crying or lack of sleep.

“I heard something and I couldn’t just not see what happened-“

“Oh god, Tate. Come on. I can’t even-this is-fuck everything is too- I can feel the texture of that shirt! I can’t stand it!” You shakily pointed at a fleece t shirt on the floor. “And my phone won’t stop buzzing.”

Tate nodded, trying to understand through your volume. “I can put it away-“

“No! I don’t want any of it. I want it away from me! I’m so sick of this. And I can’t find my headphones.” Your voice cracked.

Tate knew those were a safety net, at first he thought you wanted to ignore everyone but it was just protective measure. “I’ll find them-“

“I don’t want help!” This time you yelled louder. “I just want a different mind. I hate myself. I don’t want to be me, Tate. Every day, something else adds up. And I can’t handle it anymore.” As you continued speaking, your voice became lower.

Tate took a step closer. He just wanted to hug you and make this all better. He wanted to touch your too big sweatshirt and kiss your sweet face that he loved so much. “Baby, pushing me away isn’t right. Why don’t you want me to help you?”

He half expected you to scream but instead you sank onto the wooden floor. Opening your palms where torn out hair slowly slipped off your flesh.

“I don’t like how this feels.” You shuddered, trying to fling the rest off.

He took the opportunity to quickly settle in front of you, his knees touching yours as he experimented if you’d pull away. You didn’t. Tate carefully took your hand and took the end of his shirt and started wiping away any remaining strands. He hated that you did that but he refrained from saying that right now. He didn’t want you to tell him to leave again.

“What-What happened? Why are you so upset?”

You were visibly shaking now, teeth chattering slightly. “I don’t have a good reason. My friend said something-and it was just off. I felt like she really didn’t like me. Maybe she was talking about me to other people. And then-I couldn’t find my headphones. Everything went shit.”

The last thing he wanted to do was move away from you but Tate forced himself to lean down and inspect underneath the bed. There they were. He crawled forward, shifting past you and pulling them out. “Found them, baby.” Your shoulders slumped heavily as you took them. Tears prickled in your eyes.

“I’m sorry, Tate. I’m so sorry for yelling at you. I know you just wanna help-I didnt wanna hurt you-“ He shook his head fiercely and gently leaned forward.

He gauged your reaction but you met his presence as he rested his forehead against yours. “It’s okay. I’m always gonna be here. And I want to help you. Even if you’re angry or-hurting. I’d never leave you. I love you…” he trailed off.

“Maybe you shouldn’t. Because I don’t want this to happen again but it will. And I don’t want you to be stuck with another problem.” Tate then cupped your cheek, his own eyes growing glassy as you held eye contact a little longer.

“No. You’re not a problem. You are everything. You hear that? I don’t care if I have to hold you while you cry or scream. If I have to listen to music from playing outside of your headphones all day, then I will. I would do anything for you, baby. And you want to know why?”

You shrugged a little.

“Because I love you, baby. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone. And-I don’t want you to push me away anymore. You can tell me anything.”

He didn’t want you to argue as you opened your mouth.

“I love you too.” You whispered and his chest expanded with warmth as you brought him into a hug. He nuzzled his face into your neck, pressing a few gentle kisses against your skin.

Begrudgingly moving away, Tate scanned the bedroom. “Hey. I’m gonna make this livable again. Why don’t you put these on and try to relax a little? Can you do that for me?”

You nodded and he could tell you were growing tired from the intensity of your emotions. He helped you stand and guided you to the bed. Tate stroked your cheek with his knuckle as you settled against the pillow.

He would try his best to understand more and relate to you. But for you? He would do anything.

Tagging

@scene-and-dandylover @xxhellfirebunnyxx @reidsbtch @imyourdaninow @icannot3 @ifeeltoofuckingmuch @slvt4jamesmarch @taintandviolent @elaine-in-the-membrane @enchanting-evan

If I forgot anyone forgive because I’m baby.

[v1nsmoke]

𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐕𝐀 // 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

oneshot - sonny corleone (the godfather) x reader

tw: a creep guy :(

summary: at your best friend's wedding, somebody helps you out - that somebody might have a thing for you, too

fandom: the godfather

a/n: mention of elvis presley, so uh… the timeline doesn’t match well, but i hope yall dont mind  <3

tags: -

wc: 2.4k

Connie Corleone’s been one of your close friends for a while now. And we’re talking about a really long while here. At this point you were close to being considered her family. This brought other events, and most importantly other people in your path. You were very familiar with her family members, she considered you a sister since she didn’t have one. Brothers, on the other hand…

She had a whole bunch of brothers, at first you were even surprised by it, but with time, you managed to successfully bond with them. There was Tom, the adopted one, and Fredo, the one that everybody thought was adopted but actually wasn’t. Then there was Sonny, who didn’t even try to conceal his attraction towards you, and last, there was Michael, the youngest.

Over the years, you all grew close, but undeniably, Sonny was your favorite out of them all. 

The day of Connie’s wedding had finally arrived. Of course, you were among the many guests. Out of them all, you barely knew anyone, or more like anybody. An unfamiliar face appears next to you. It was an about five and half feet tall, round man. 

“I’m so glad you’re here,” He greeted you. To be fair, you had no intention of talking to him.

The man takes quick steps as he gets closer to you. His eyes slightly narrowed at the sight of you. 

“Hey,” you softly smile. No words beyond that. “It’s nice seeing you here. That’s your uniform on you?” You ask, your pointing finger motioning at his clothing. 

“You’ve got quite an eye,” he sighs with a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“I always did have an eye for nice things.”

“Undoubtedly. Where’d you find yours?”

It wasn’t that he hated it. No, quite the opposite. He liked it. He liked it because it was on you, and it fit.

“A thrift store,” you replied. “Dress to impress, they say.”

“Who’re you trying to impress, sweetheart?” 

Not you, that’s for sure, you thought.

“It hugs you perfectly, too tight, innit?” He grins. Yeah, no way you wanted to talk to him.

“It’s fine. Now, I reckon that other people are waiting for your company, so I’ll leave you to it,” you smile awkwardly at him, trying to brush him off.

“No, I’d rather spend my time with you,” he chuckles, grasping your wrist as you try to scurry away from him.

You shoot an anxious glare at the man, who refuses to let you go, even after you attempt to draw your hand out. 

“Let me go. Now,” you demand, your soft attitude now gone. 

“Don’t give me that attitude. I’m just trying to look out for you. That dress, it doesn’t seem too comfortable.”

“It is. So leave me alone. This is just harassment.”

The man rolled his eyes, scoffing slightly as his grip on you got a bit tighter.

“Seriously? I’m the one harassing you? That dress on you, to me, feels like pure harassment.”

“Don’t get cocky there, old man, I reckon you should fuck off now, before I shout it out that you’re harassing me.”

The man grabbed your waist, and now his face was mere inches from yours, his dark eyes bored into yours as he glared into yours.

“Harassing you? No sweetheart. Trying to keep those damn pests off of you? Yes.”

“You’re the pest that should be kept off of me!”

He huffed, his grip tightening, almost as if he was holding you captive.

“You better keep that smartmouth attitude of yours to yourself,” he whispered, leaning closer to your ear.

“Let me go you creep,” you grunt, trying your best to twist out your arm from his grip.

“For the love of God, will you stop? I’m just protecting you.”

“This isn’t protecting! You’re here preaching about other men looking at me, but what you’re doing is much, much worse!”

His eyebrow twitched at the name calling. He looked around to see if anyone was paying attention before looking back at you.

“Keep. Your. Voice. Down,” he huffed out through gritted teeth.

At this point his fingers were so clenched around your wrist, leaving imprints on your skin.

“What now? Scared that somebody will notice this? I hope someone does, and they get you off of me.”

“Keep your mouth shut, or see what happens.”

Enough bullshit. You bit his arm, your teeth digging deep into his skin. Why wouldn’t you? It was fucking deserved, from the start. 

He hisses in agony, releasing his grasp as he pulls his arm back. With his other hand’s palm, he runs his fingers over the tiny, fresh marks on his skin. His skin became paler in those spots. 

Without a word, you run off, making your way through the crowd of people.

You didn’t care where you were even going, as long as it was far away from that unknown man. Everyone here was unknown to you, not just that man. The only familiar face around the crowd was Sonny, stalking over to you. You could only hope that he didn’t want to talk to you at that moment. What would you even say? Was the previous event visible on you?

Sonny was making rounds, checking on the guests. That was, until he spotted you. Even from that distance, he could see that you were distressed. With quick steps, he pushed himself through the mass of guests gathered around in the garden.

“You okay?” He speaks in a soft tone, a concerned look on his face. “You look like you’ve been crying.”

“Oh, I haven’t been, I’m just on the verge of doing so,” you flash him a weak smile, trying to play it off. This was your best friend’s wedding, for God’s sake. “How you doin’?”

Sonny raised an eyebrow. He clearly didn’t believe you.

“Uh huh. Sure you haven’t. I’m doing fine. I’m not the one that looks like I’m gonna cry any second now,” he teased.

Of course, this moment couldn’t last an eternity. Make a guess who appeared behind you. I dare you.

“There you are,” the same man from before hisses through his teeth, almost getting a hold of your wrist again, but this time, you know better, and manage to pull your hand away just in time.

Sonny’s always been quick to react. Before the man can reach for you again, he steps in between the two of you. 

“Now what’s with you?” He demands, looking the man straight in the eye. One of his hands was protectively covering you behind him.

“That bitch bit me!” The man roars. 

Sonny looks over his shoulder, his brows knitted together, watching in anticipation, waiting for confirmation. There’s no way you would-

“I did. And it was well fucking deserved!” You lean forward lightly, almost unnoticeably, your finger pointing at the man. “He was harassing me!”

Confused, Sonny turns his head back at the man. 

“He did?” He asked, the question aimed at you.

“You think I would bite some man for no reason?”

That was all it took for Sonny. He clenched his fist, and with a swift movement, he flung his arm towards the man, landing a punch straight into his face. The man staggered back some steps, even bumping into a random guest.

“Who the hell do you think you are?!” Sonny snarls at him viciously.

Not wanting the situation to escalate even further, you grab his arm, getting his attention. This was Connie’s wedding, no need to ruin it for her with this. 

“Hey, enough. It’s nice of you, but I don’t think this is the time for this.”

He pants, looking into your eyes, nodding lightly as you speak. He, too, came to the realization that his sister’s wedding wasn’t the appropriate place and time to cause mayhem.

You found a quiet refuge under a tree, your lone self could finally be at peace. It was a big event, more people attended it than a literal Taylor Swift concert. It was loud, with many people. Overwhelming.

“Hey there,” the oh-so-familiar face trots up to you.

“Sonny, hey. I know I probably asked you this before, but how you doing?”

“Just doing rounds, making sure the guests are okay. Making sure the food is good, the whole shindig” he answered as he let out a sigh, his eyes now looking out into the party area. “I’d much rather be here, making sure you’re okay

“How heroic of you! No, really, I appreciate it. But shouldn't you check whether the food grew legs and ran off?”

Sonny chuckled at the comment, a smirk appearing on his face as he bumped his shoulder against yours.

“Very funny, smartass. But the food is well-behaved.”

“Did you train it personally?”

He snickered at that, a lighthearted chuckle escaping him.

“Nope, I just told them that I would eat them if they even think about running away.”

This time, you let out a chuckle too. Sonny’s always been kind to you.

“There’s the smile. I’m glad I’m getting laughs out of you,” he comments. “Y’know, for an introvert like yourself, you’re pretty damn good at being around rowdy people like  my family.”

“The only rowdy person in your family is you. Michael barely even speaks.”

Sonny let out a scoff, a feigned annoyance on his face.

“Hey, that is absolutely not true! Have you seen Fredo when he’s drunk?”

“No, fortunately.”

He smirked at that, rolling his eyes jokingly.

“You’re lucky then. Fredo, when he’s drunk, is the loudest and rowdiest person ever! Especially when he starts to sing…”

You couldn’t help but smile at his words.

“And you? When you’re drunk, are you louder than usual too?” You ask.

Sonny chuckled slightly at the question, a cocky smirk on his face as he sat up again and leaned over towards you.

“No, no. I’m already loud as it is, sweetheart. Me drunk? People would be going deaf if I got louder” he joked with a playful tone.

“Oh, undoubtedly.”

“Now, why’d you gotta say it in such a nonchalant way?”

“Because I can. Now, get back in there, this is your kinda thing. Enjoy it while it lasts, y’know.”

“And you’re going to be sitting here on your own?” He asks.

For a moment, you were deep in thought. Yes, because you knew almost nobody. Yes, because the Corleones were all busy doing their own thing.

“Seems like it,” you blurt out calmly, a smile on your face.

Sonny hummed in acknowledgment, his expression turning more serious as he looked you up and down.

“If any of these idiots bother you, you come get me. Understand?”

“Understood, sir. I just didn’t plan on involving you last time.”

“Sweetheart, these bastards are my family. That makes them fair game for me to hit any day. I said come get me if you need me. Don’t let my dumbass cousins ruin your night. So, you better keep that promise. I’d hate to see someone upset such a pretty face.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you reply with a gentle smile.

Sonny gave you a smile back, the cocky smirk replaced by a sincere one. He paused for a few seconds, as if contemplating something, before speaking up again.

“Actually, before I go back over there and drown myself in alcohol, I have a question for you”

“Speak your mind.”

Sonny bit his lip slightly, a rare look of uncertainty coming over his features, as he shoved his hands into his pockets. He looked at you for a few more seconds, as if debating with himself, before he spoke up again.

“Why’d you wanna sit here, all by yourself?” he asked the question softly.

“Why, I’m no good out there in the crowd all alone. You know the feeling when you’re lost in a crowd? That would be me.”

Sonny nodded in understanding, a small frown on his face. He knew you weren’t the biggest fan of big social gatherings, especially by yourself, so he could understand how lonely you felt here tonight.

“Don’t you have anyone to hang out with?”

“I wouldn’t say.”

He stayed quiet for a few seconds before he spoke up again.

“You can’t just sit out the whole night like this, all alone. C’mon, why don’t you hang out with me instead?”

“Oh, I’d scare those girls away,” You smile as you say jokingly.

“Sweetheart, even if you stay out here all night those girls will still crawl all over me. I’m just that handsome” he said, his smirk turning cocky again.

“Oh, you casanova.”

Sonny chuckled again, shaking his head at the nickname. He ran his hand through his hair, the smirk on his face never leaving as he looked over to you again.

“You know it,” he said with a playful tone, before his expression turned more serious again “but I’m bein’ serious. C’mon, sit with me instead of sitting over here all alone.”

“If it doesn’t bother you, it doesn’t bother me.”

Sonny nodded his head, a smile on his face again as he lightly bumped his shoulder against yours.

“Nah, of course it doesn’t. Better to talk to you then get hit on by some random girl all night.”

You squint your eyes, a suspicious look on your face.

“Wait…”

“Is something wrong?” Sonny raised an eyebrow at the sudden interjection, a confused look on his face as he leaned over towards you a bit.

“This isn’t the Sonny Corleone I know! There's no way, not a single way, that you would prefer talking to me than all those girls!” You chuckle. 

Sonny chuckled again, a smirk on his face as he rolled his eyes again. He shook his head slightly, clearly amused that you thought that.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever smartass. I’d rather go one night without some random chick drooling over me and actually have an intelligent conversation instead.”

“C’mon then. They’re playing Elvis,” you say quietly, almost whisper-like.

Sonny nodded his head, slowly standing up from the ground and holding his hand out to you.

“C’mon, then. Let’s go watch ‘em play some Elvis.”

© v1nsmokes 2024. Do not modify, translate or rewrite.

[lizardperson]

come all sufferers

part 4: long term side effects of getting shot in the head [on ao3]

fandom: fallout new vegas characters: female courier/original male character rating: m wc: 613 prompts: head injury for @sweetspicybingo

[hurt/comfort bingo masterlist]

---

Mika dropped down beside Gabriel, visibly pale and exhausted after throwing up for a good ten minutes. He handed her a water bottle and they both sat in silence for a bit. "It's getting worse. Those attacks, I mean," he eventually remarked. "Maybe my stomach just doesn't like your cooking," she grumbled at him, then made a face when he raised an eyebrow. "Sorry. Didn't mean to be a bitch. Your cooking is actually really good." The food wasn't the problem, and they both knew it. "It's getting more frequent." "No, it's-" Mika started to protest, then sighed. "I know." Since her encounter with Benny in Goodsprings, she had started having these episodes of sudden headaches and dizziness. It usually stopped again after about an hour, but the whole thing was getting irritating. And very concerning. Gabriel looked at her intently. "I really think you should talk to a doctor." She crossed her arms in front of her chest. "No." "Why not?" "What's that supposed to do? It's not like they can un-shoot me," she objected, getting clearly annoyed by the whole topic. "But there might be ways to manage your symptoms," he suggested gently. "No! I don't want to. I hate doctors." Now she started to sound like a bratty child. He raised an eyebrow. "Why?" "I just do!" Gabriel was aware that she'd rather drop the topic, but now he needed to get to the bottom of this. "Wait, are you scared of doctors?" "What, no?! Of course not!" she huffed at his outrageous accusation. The way Mika protested told him that he was on the right track there. "Well, then I don't understand what the problem is..." He could see how defensive she was getting now, how much she hated this idea. "Tell you what, an old friend of mine works at the Follower's Fort. Next time we're in Freeside, we'll drop by, and she can take a look at you," he suggested. "She's a real good doctor. Someone I trust." Mika sighed, then her typical mischievous grin crept into her face. "Is she hot?" He laughed at the sudden mood shift. "Uhm... yeah. Yeah, she is." "Are you just saying that to get me to see her?" she chuckled. "No." Mika stared at the ground in front of her again for a few moments, apparently considering the whole thing. Then she suddenly looked up. "Wait... old friend, or old 'friend'?" "Excuse me?" She rolled her eyes and laughed. "Oh my god, I am asking if you were a thing!" He made a vague shrugging motion. "...it's complicated." "You do realize I am now dying of curiosity, right?" Then maybe he should use that to his advantage. "How about this: you go see her, and afterward I will try to satisfy your curiosity a bit." She frowned at him, still not entirely convinced. "I'll stay with you the whole time if you want." "I'm not a fucking toddler, I don't need handholding." "I know you don't, I'm just offering," he chuckled. You might not be a toddler, but sometimes you act like one, you little menace. Mika let out a long sigh. "Okay, fine. Next time we're in Freeside," she finally agreed, reluctantly. "But I'm not letting some labcoat poke around in my head, no matter how hot she is!" "Okay." "...and maybe you should come with me after all," she added sheepishly. "Just to make sure I don't hit on your ex too much."

[the-real-rain-world-confessions]

Warrior cats fans finding rain world is the worst thing to happen to the fandom, and I'm saying that as a wc veteran who found rain world through former wc youtubers.

WC is generally one of the most toxic and (I hate to use this term) 'fandom-policing' fandoms I've been in and whenever I see rain world drama I know its them lol.

Fucking love you guys via contract but good god dude.

.

[ominoose]

Honoured to have been tagged by @my-secret-shame, legendary paw patrol stan.

How many works do you have on AO3? Three. All abandonded, two are Naruto and ones DC. Darker times...

2. What's your total AO3 words count? 7,541. I haven't posted there in years.

3. What fandoms do you write for? Oscar Isaac almost exclusively. In my head I also write for... is cryptids a fandom? I write the best horror novels in my head, putting HP Lovecraft to shame. One day someone will give me an Oscar character with a horror prompt and it will be the best day ever.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? Since I don't even have five fics on AO3, I'll do tumblr instead. Also just gonna stick to Oscar stuff, the only other posts are slasher ones.

Pumpkin Porno In My VeinsTo Be Involved Blue Jones The Makeup Artist Oscar Characters Dating a Witchy Reader

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? I response to almost all of them! There's some where I don't know what to say so... I kinda don't. But I do try my hardest, I appreciate when people take time to say a kind word to me and like to return that.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Uh... I don't know that I've ever written one. I do absolutely love angst and I feel I could write it decently well, but to end with angst? I simply cannot. Maybe Caladan Attacks, since its basically on the line of non-con with no hope of escape?

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? The Moon Knight system playing minecraft with you post is just silly, self indulgent fluff that was so funny to write. So thats a very happy one.

8. Do you get hate on fics? I have never, which I'm happy to keep like that.

9. Do you write smut. If so what kind? I've written about maybe six smut ever, it's all here and it's... the Oscar Isaac character kind. Or it's always got plot even when I don't mean for it too. I'll get 1k wc in and go "Why the fuck have I not even gotten to the smut yet?".

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written? I wrote the Steven Grant Travelling the Oscar Verse thingy, where Steven accidentally teleports to Poe Dameron, Leto Atreides and Basil Stitt. Was crazy because I didn't make Steven and Leto bang.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? No. Unless they stole it really well and I don't know.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Once with an MHA x reader thing back in the day. It also got put on youtube! Highest achievement.

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before? Nope, no clue how it works and too nervous to accept an offer.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship? Oh no idea, it always depends on what I'm into. Currently in the Oscar fandom I have a bunch of random ships in my head I imagine for god knows what reason.

Steven/Jake Steven/Cecil William/Jake Blue/Jake Me/Jake

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will? There's a MK system x reader breeding request I've stared at so many times yet cannot muster the strength to finish. Idk why. I just cannot. Won't delete it though.

16. What are your writing strengths? When I'm in the zone I can crack out four fics in a day. I feel I can put a decent amount of character depth.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? I burn out so, so easily when writing. Maybe I need more practice, but it burns out my want to write and my love for the thing I'm into.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I only know English and Scots, but there's nothing to write Scots for and people are rude about it.

19. First fandom you wrote for? Naruto, back in the dark ages.

20. Favourite fic you've ever written? A Fake Taxi because the concept is so fun, I was encouraged by a friend and it's my first ever smut so that's a milestone!

Thanks again for the tag <3 My no pressure tags are: @winniethewife @minispidey @lunaesidus

[bandtrees]

for the warriors ask game :D

🗺 : first map you ever watched?

🖼 : first amv/pmv you ever watched?

(I used to watch MAPs religiously those are my jam)

yay thank you! warriors ask game except the questions are all weird and niche as hell!

know: my memory is bad. i've been into wc for... well over a decade now, so these are probably not accurate xP my first warriors video was i believe a spoof video about ashfur and squirrelflight, but my first map and amv? uhhh unsure!

🗺 : first map you ever watched? - i didn't actively watch maps as a small kid, or at least i don't think i did? the first map that i entirely remember watching was during my second major warriors phase by the time i was closer to... 15 maybe?? as opposed to my earliest memories of wc which are from when i was 10 or younger lol. little fang, which is making me genuinely super misty eyed to rewatch, it's just so so good, from the style to the designs to how well it gets into jayfeather and his family with only animation and music, the composition of every part is so good, the designs, all of it. the sole reason little fang is one of my favorite songs to this day it might, miiight, have also been evelyn evelyn? that one was certainly one of the first maps i ever watched that stuck with me. the dovewing kinnie has entered chat

🖼 : first amv/pmv you ever watched? - i cannot remember. i watched sooo many amvs as a kid. not my FIRST amv, probably, but one of the earliest i recall is ashfur's revenge, which is delighting me so much to rewatch. this one was formative for me, i miss the style of flash-animated warriors amvs that (obviously:() aren't around anymore. i also have such a soft spot for tigerclaw is not one of thunderclan, one i was thinking about the Entire Time i was writing the exile scene in spottedfur's pride lol. i still love it so much, this is my first time rewatching it in like... a decade, im sure. its so good. im kind of blown away as i rewatch these that they ARE as good as they are, cuz i feel like it's common in the warriors fandom to treat old amvs as some cringeworthy lost art (in general i have strong opinions on how (unintentionally)cruel the internet starts being to things as soon as they enter "nostalgia" territory) - but there's still, like, genuine talent in these. there's a reason these amvs were as popular as they were, and not because we were all cringe 10 year olds who didn't know better, lol. also reminds me of tigerstar and the dog pack(be prepared) - which is one i have the most vivid memory of watching on my family computer, hehe. in general i love corvus katana's stuff, past and current oh my god i will never get this ask posted because i keep remembering ones that helped, like, form a lobe of my brain growing up. HOW TO SAVE BLUESTAR'S LIFE YOU WILL ALWAYS BE FAMOUS!!!! I AM TOTALLY NOT CRYING REWATCHING IT. YOU ARE. YOU ARE. cant believe i had a phase where i hated bluestar - i think everyone did because they spontaneously realized she was imperfect, immoral even at times, and made mistakes but hadn't developed the media comprehension to realize she was... actually meant to be complex and troubled and not just a perfect leader. god. bluestar. god. god. g (im also gonna use this question as a chance to gush about old amvs that i remember that are unfortunately lost to time: a hollyleaf one to hurricane by thirty seconds to mars (!!!! THIS ONE WAS SO FORMATIVE BUT IM LIKE 80% SURE ITS LOST MEDIA), bluestar heart heart head (PLEASE tell me im not the only one who remembers this one!!! i was devastated to learn it wasn't iconic or reuploaded anywhere (as much as i also think, again, in the nostalgia-sense, people act entitled to things like old amvs or people's art or whatever else)), NIGHTCLOUD GIRL WITH ONE EYE CHANGED MY LIFE?and... probably more of course that aren't coming to me now xP

i. didnt expect to ramble as much as i did with this? i just can't put into enough words how formative warriors amvs and the like were for me growing up :'DD they were my major start for digital art and animation (something i did a lot when i was younger but fell out of over time, but god i'd love to animate again, maybe do a classic wc amv to spottedfur's pride or something lol)

thank you for the question! I am so incredibly normal about warrior cats.

[sp1resong]

pleasepleaseplease talk about your ocs i am so curious

OKAY SO

i have... four? ish? main oc stories/universe atm, not counting random fandom ocs i make on the side that aren't linked to any big overarching story

those four are Dr. Paradise's Theory of the Self, Tales of Godborn (<- title i am planning to change but do not yet have anything to change to), The Poison Beneath, and Onelight's Dawn. the latter two are warrior cats, and the former two are generic cat furries (...and both started as wc. Me when i got the warrior cats autism instead of the good at math or science autism)

im just going to go off about dptots because.Good lord. i am so infodumping. my hands would shrivel up and fall off if i wrote any more of this i hope you understand

DPTotS is a story about identity, personhood, and necromancy, i guess. at its bare basics.

um. The titular Dr. Willow "Will" Paradise (she/her) is a reclusive scientist and self-proclaimed alchemist. In her younger days, she found some manner of fame as "Miracle Worker Will", a so-called genius who claimed to be seeking immortality itself.

she very suddenly fell out of the public eye in what can only be described as "the identity crisis of a century" following which she threw herself into the sea to test a theory of hers. and promptly drowned to death. (she got better)

now with a bond to the Abyss (yeah the ocean is a whole entire eldritch horror in this universe), along with several new and unknown neuroses and complexes, Will shuts herself away in her lighthouse (for the most part! she still occasionally attends social events--but it's odd, her demeanor has changed entirely almost overnight...)

eventually she drops her titular Theory of the Self, which proclaims that identity is invariably a facade, and that true selfhood is guided by motivation; by which parts of your mind drive your choices.

she splits the Self [or; the abstract entity who is capable of making choices] into three distinct guiding factors:

the Heart [representing emotion]

the Mind [representing logic]

the Will [representing desire]

(...before you ask, i promise i am not lying when i say i wrote that part long before i even knew who chonny jash was)

though it is not a part of her in-universe theory, on a more meta level there is a fourth factor, the Mask, which represents the charade of a cohesive identity, or the urge to adhere to social norms and etiquette even when every other part of you is screaming against it.

anyways! wow there are. Actually three more main characters. good lord. i am the fucking infodumper

um! the other main characters are Doe (it/its), Alice Grey (she/her), and Dorian Winters (he/him).

Doe is... the sole inhabitant of the corpse of John Doe. John died of a stab wound in a back alley and Will stumbled upon his corpse some time later. She wasn't about to look a gift corpse in the mouth, bringing his body back and attempting to recreate the conditions of her own resurrection in the controlled environment of her lab. If this worked--why, she would have earned her title of Miracle Worker! she would have found the key to eternity, to conquer death itself--

and work it did, or so it seemed, at first.

truth is, Doe does not remember being John. perhaps it lost its memory as some consequence of the trauma of dying and being resurrected, or perhaps John's mind could not be saved at all, and another was constructed in its stead.

whether a broken John or a new soul entirely, it doesn't matter, really! because we have Doe now. Doe, identity issues connoisseur (in other news i fuckign hate spelling connoisseur why does french have so many god damn fucking letters in it. Spellcheck save me), who lives life as a failed copy, a dead man's shadow, a mere shard of what it should be. does it imagine the disappointment in will's gaze when it lingers on its eyes (bright blue; her same color. john's were amber)? is the face in the mirror truly its own? when it looks down, are those its hands by right?

it knows the answer, of course. or... 'know' is not the right word. it does not know anything. it feels. that is all it can do.

alice, meanwhile, is a Completely Normal Cat with an Ordinary Life--which is to say, her issues at the beginning of the story are fairly mundane in comparison to whatever the fuck is going on with the other two (this fact will change).

her in-laws dragged her to some fancy party, once. she did not have a good time at all, and just kind of stood uncomfortably in the corner the whole time until she was approached by an Odd Stranger dot dot dot... just kidding it's will fucking paradise. Will decides to spare alice from the woes of Standing There Awkwardly and strikes up a conversation. alice is nervous at first, but will is like. scarily good at figuring people out (and figuring out how to get other people to trust her as a result), and alice quickly becomes comfortable around her.

they become fast friends! alice learns more about will, while will hears of alice's assorted wiles and woes.

she wants a lot of things, but she's too nervous to get them. she doesn't like her family, she doesn't like the city, she doesn't like the life she is living, she feels like everything goes by too fast and she will never be able to do all she wants to with her time on this earth.

will is sympathetic, of course. she hears her out and offers a shoulder to cry on, and offers carefully-picked bits and pieces of her own history and struggles that alice might be able to relate to. until...

um. long story short will pushes alice off a cliff into the ocean, thereby granting her will's brand of quasi-immortality (she does not age, and she is very difficult to kill; so long as abyss doesn't decide to pull the plug, so to speak. which it can do at any time).

now, alice, who literally fucking died and had her soul pledged to an eldritch horror without her consent at the hands of someone she thought was her friend, is rightfully fucking pissed about this. and one thing about alice is that once she's gotten over her initial fear of rocking the boat she is stubborn.

alice swears revenge. she misses will, she hates will, she never wantts to see will again, she wants will to apologize, she doesn't know what to feel or think. this all hardens into one thought: will has to die. she has to. she has to.

um.Admittedly this part of the story is Way less planned out due to being fairly close to the ending, but whateverr

oh yeah also doe has a character arc where it learns to accept that it isn't John, and that it doesn't have to be John, and just being Doe is enough. also it befriends John's widowed husband. long story.

anyways! some shtuff happens (i'm not... sure what yet), the three of them are brought to the seafloor by abyss in a dream. btw theyre all associated with some small element of abyss's imagery because fuck you that's why (alice has tridents, will has ink, and doe has.I haven't decided yet).

now, in this dream-state these bits of imagery become more real--will's palms are ink-stained, doe... ...i'll figure it out, and, most importantly, alice gets an actual trident because.First of all haha chonny jash hyperfixation and second of all. she deserves a large stabbing weapon okay

alice proceeds to threaten will's life! and yet will... doesn't react at all. alice holds her trident to her throat and will looks back, unmoved, looking, if anything, slightly bored as she stares at her death. and alice all but begs will for a reaction, anything to bring some catharsis into this bloodshed, anything to make this all worth it. by the end of it, she's sobbing on the floor and will is looking down at her.

and will apologizes, and alice doesn't forgive her. and she cant bring herself to do it anymore. and nothing will ever be the same again

and then some more stuff happens idk i dont even know how the story ends it just exists as a Cluster of Scenes That I Want To Animate featuring the Guys (gender neutral)

...oh yeah. and dorian. i forgot about dorian. fuckin uhh. dorian is will's college friend and a former singer slash musician, who had the misfortune of becoming rather famous for his music. and now he's a public figure no matter what he does and he fucking hates it. but he'd never go up front and say he fucking hates it, of course. he is passive aggressive forever and ever and

will crashes on his couch sometimes, as the most Normal of her friend group, and by Most Normal i mean literally just the only one not involved with the horrors (very low bar)

anyways.

the story also functions as something of a... parable, i suppose, about will's titular theory! will represents the mind, doe represents the heart, alice represents the will (...yeah, the character named will isn't the will. lmao. look, this was a later addition. and, to be fair, if she were writing the story, im fairly certain she would do this on purpose), and dorian represents the mask.

...and the abyss represents The ocean is really really fucked up /silly

nah, abyss's position in the metaphor is Up To Interpretation tm. as i see it, theyre a vague representation of mental illness, but eh. the author is dead here.

tl;dr: if there were three guys at the bottom of the ocean and two of them tried to kill each other would that be fucked up or what

[2dents]

20 Questions for fic Writers!

Okay so, I was tagged by @outtoshatter and I'm just going to take a swing at this. Here we go.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Currently 22.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

202,411.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

I mainly write for Dungeons and Daddies, Nark specifically. But I also have a couple in there for the Teen Wolf Sterek fandom.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

But You Have Heard of Me [ Teen Wolf, M, Wc: 82,014] (my baby!) The Taste of Perfume [DnDads, M, Wc: 58,717] (wip) Sudoku [DnDads, G, Wc: 5,226] Uno Attack [Dndads, G, Wc: 5,717] A Consuming Faith [Dndads, E, Wc: 33,963] (My baby wip! I'm aiming for another 80k with this one.)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Absolutely I do! If someone takes the time out of their day to not only read my silly little stories, but also comment on them, I will absolutely reply! Unless they're mean I guess? I haven't had any mean/rude comments yet so knock on wood. lol

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I love angst. I write it into a lot of things. But as far as endings go... hmm. Well I guess that title would currently go to one of my drabbles, A Done Deal [DnDads, G, Wc: 100] but without giving away spoilers one of my wips is going to take that title as soon as I get around to writting it lol.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Oh, But You Have Heard of Me [ Teen Wolf, M, Wc: 82,014]. My baby~! Happy ending and maybe one day it will have a happy sequel.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I feel like I'm going to jinx myself by saying no. I haven't recieved any rude or hateful comments on any of my fics. Not even when I posted on LJ.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I am not confident when it comes to writing smut. I used to write a lot of it back on LJ. Now I just Fade To Black, but I do have plans to maybe write some for a wip. But idk we will see when we get there.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Nope! I wrote a fusion fic, But You Have Heard of Me [ Teen Wolf, M, Wc: 82,014] but no crossovers.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I am aware of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I had I believe 2 fics translated on LJ, but not on Ao3

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Hahaha, yes! On LJ my irl bestie and I wrote a fic together! It was very cute, we each did a chapter following one half of the ships pov. I'd love to do it again some day it was super fun! What I really wanna do is get a bunch of different writers involved in doing a collaboration where the characters are stuck waking up in different timelines, so each chapter could be a different one-shot by a different author but they all connect. I think it would be fun.

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

Sora/Riku. I don't write for this ship but I will fight god about them. I've been obsessed with them since I was 12 and played Kingdom Hearts. I have fics I've been re-reading for alkjsdflks way too long omg. When I played Kh3 and Riku showed up I screamed so loud it scared my partner. You can pry them from my cold dead fingers okay.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Hahaha, I just recently posted this fic to my Ao3. A Divine Move [Teen Wolf, M, 8,676] Stiles is a horror game character (based off games like Until Dawn and The Blair Witch Project) and Derek is from a dating sim (Based off Hunnypop lol) It was going to get an E rating cause I had some absolutely slasher ideas for Stiles game and the plot was loosely adapted from Wreck-It-Ralph. So, maybe one day I'll get the inspiration back, but as of now it's just not there.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I have been told I have a very clear writing voice and that I'm very good at setting a scene and showing it to the reader. I think my main strength is my humor. lol I find myself very funny.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

A lack of confidence alksdfjalksd. I get so anxious trying to make sure that the movie in my head is being translated into word correctly that I sometimes over do things. Also I have the absolute worst grammar, and spelling omg.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

If I don't speak the language enough to be confident that I'm using the words correctly I just do the "They said in language" kinda thing.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Okay, lmao. Okay okay. It was for the Gorillaz back when Demon Days had just come out.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

My two babies that I'm the most proud of are

But You Have Heard of Me [ Teen Wolf, M, Wc: 82,014]

I spent a year writting it and I made several friends because of it. It is my baby and I love it. I re-read it and still laugh at it.

A Consuming Faith [Dndads, E, Wc: 33,963]

I have been putting so much work into this fic and it's really pushing me as a writer. I have been obsessed with cult and demons since I was young, probably too young lol, so this is just basically 3 of my hyper-fixations coming together in a fun way. I have big plans for this fic and I'm very excited about it. I've been working on it for 7 months now, and I'm really hoping I can finish it before the end of the year.

Thanks for the tag! I'm going to tag some people and maybe they'll play along too, no pressure though and I have no clue what I'm doing so sorry if you didn't want to be tagged. @evanesdust @nottoolateforthegame @siogosho @missanniewhimsy @calamity-unlocked