#I have loads of fave moments but the moment that made me write this is when Naruto goes to remove the seal during the pain arc

[0zt]

once a series ends it loses some of its hype and it gets remembered for all the shittiest parts. like, yeah Naruto had some shitty parts. It was long as hell so of course. but to this day, certain scenes and moments stick in my mind that are just amazing without comparison and when you go back to them it’s no wonder Naruto was so massive and is still so popular so long after it finished

[soft4gguk]

yearning | jjk one shot

the one that finds you in Jungkook's doorstep after a night out...

Description: idol!jungkook x reader, fwb 

Content: porn with loads of plot!

Word Count: 7.5k

Warnings: oc smokes 1 cigarette lol, they’re so flirty ouch, so much kissing, cutest little dynamic, dry humping (a personal fave in this house), fingering, protected sex (they’re so smart!!), loads of spanking, jaykay ass man forever. 

Author’s Note: i once sworn to never write idol aus because… i know nothing about this man ok? i do not claim to know what he’s like in a relationship or a situationship or in his personal life!! so please thread carefully when reading <3333 that being said, his lives last year and these first couple of episodes of “are you sure?” have me feeling very delulu so here u go!! hope you enjoy xo

★ masterlist ★

This is a work of fiction. Please respect the members and their privacy. x

The moment you exit the club, a gust of summer breeze engulfs you. It makes you wrap your arms around your body, but it amounts to nothing, the little black dress that you’d made the executive decision to wear, in the name of fashion, betraying you. The tequila shots you'd downed before leaving the house sure had deceived your senses, too.

Needless to say, you regret said decision, a shiver running down your spine all the way to your legs, making you jump a little in place as you tipsily look around you. You’d cut the night short. Your friends had found another lonely pair they’d quickly gotten cozy with, leaving you to drink one too many gin & tonics all by yourself. You hadn’t minded it for the first two hours, enjoying the music, sparking conversation with the bartender from time to time and entertaining the occasional stranger. Eventually though, it became boring, predictable, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you feel a little shitty about yourself. 

It was all getting repetitive. Friday nights, the same faces, small talk, ice breakers. Even the strangers you met had a similar M.O., making it all seem predictable. It made it feel like a waste of self, more than a waste of time, and it ate at you in moments like these, where it was strange to feel lonely amongst a sea of people, unable to shake the feeling.

The bright city lights illuminate the night, lacing it with something livelier than your mood and you smile. At least the scenery is always pretty. Pretty places. You hear the laughter of a group of people that stand a couple of feet away from you, they seem happy in that genuine way that reflects in pure, unadulterated beauty. Pretty people. 

You think of him. 

It’s rather instant. Or perhaps instinctive. The very own butterfly effect of your thoughts because to you, he’s the prettiest of them all. He’d been since the very first day, and as you lose focus of the pretty sights the more you stare into the city lights with him on your mind, you can’t help but think nothing will ever stand close. 

A girl stands next to you, audibly shivering as she exits the club and the air greets her with the same fate it did you. She holds a cigarette between her red lips, the fire from her pink lighter shining on her red hair. It makes you crave one, too, rummaging through your bag for your own. You smile when you remember how he would tease you for smoking “the skinny kind” as he would call them. Calling you a bit of a snob, but all in lighthearted nature. After all, he could. He knew you enough to let your closeness turn into inside jokes, banter. 

Perhaps giving into a vice could prevent you from falling into another. 

“Can I borrow your lighter?” she smiles at you before she’s handing it over. Her nails are pink, too. 

The fire feels pleasant for all of five seconds, warm against your face as you take the first drag. You give into one instinct so as to distract yourself from the one that’s tugging at your heart and senses, begging you to make a reckless call. 

You check the time. 

2:32 A.M.

~

Jungkook scrolls through the endless list of channels aimlessly. Small snippets from whatever’s playing that he cuts short, not really giving it much thought. He settles on one, solely so he can stop putting exertion on his thumb and go back to leaning against his couch – fully relaxed. He sighs. On the screen, some drama he hasn’t gotten around to watching plays, and the story seems to be developing quickly. He doesn’t care for it, if he’s honest, simply content with the white noise it fills the room with. 

Bam leaves his dog house, standing right in front of him and they seem to start an unspoken staring contest. He smiles, patting the spot right next to him on the couch and the pup rushes to take the place excitedly. He gets cuddles and kisses simply for existing. For keeping him company – his presence giving Jungkook more peace than he’ll ever know. 

“Hey, Bam, should we, like, meet up in our next life as well? Perhaps I’ll be the dog in that one and you’ll be my owner.”

Bam simply stares and Jungkook swears if he could, he’d let out a deep sigh right now. This makes him laugh. 

“Hey, don’t be jumping of excitement at the idea, man.”

At this, he attacks. With kisses, that is – wet, sloppy kisses that have Jungkook giggling and pushing back, though it is no use, his dog is that determined to give him love.

“Alright, you win. Let’s go get a beer. For me, not for you. You’re still too young. One day, son.” His voice takes on a lower tone, imitating his father. Or maybe Yoongi’s, he can’t tell anymore. 

He retrieves a cold beer mug from his freezer and cracks the can open, nodding his head at the sound it makes, the fizziness bubbling up before he pours it in the cold glass. He takes a sip as he walks back to the couch, blissed out in leisure.

He doesn’t mind being alone, specially not on nights like this when sleep leaves him and everything but seems more tempting. He likes the way everything slows down at this time of day, the ease of it all. No one to see, no texts to reply to. As for what the world is concerned for, he’s asleep. It’s peaceful, just being. 

Plopping down on the couch, he rests against the pillows, making himself comfortable. He must’ve spoken too soon, he thinks, because it’s not thirty seconds after this that his phone buzzes on the coffee table in front of him. He ponders on the possibility of simply ignoring it, let it sit there, facing down. But something tells him he should check the message. It could be important, or not. The pull isn’t necessarily violent, just a quiet voice that tells him so, like a little nudge. He leans forward, setting his beer on the table before he’s taking a hold of his phone. 

He gets it now – the pull. 

From ___: jungkookie, u awake?

To ___: no

From ___: can I call?

He smiles – so fucking big he almost hates that he does, slightly flustered and embarrassed you have this quick of an effect on him. And before he can talk himself out of it, he calls you. 

~

Seeing his name flash on your phone screen does more to you than anything you’ve deemed exhilarating tonight. The simple prospect of hearing his voice rushes more excitement through your body than any of the mindless conversations you had this evening. Than any of the conversations you’ve had all week perhaps. You smile and there’s no doubt that he can hear it in your voice when you say,

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

There’s a moment of silence and you can hear the smile on his face, too. It’s warmth – he’s warmth, even far. How far is he, you wonder. Did you happen to demand of him at a bad time? Will the end of this call find you disappointed?

You cut to the chase. 

“What are you up to?”

There’s a pause and you can hear the way he sinks into his couch. “Can’t sleep so I’m having a beer and watching some TV with Bamie.”

He’s home and a giddy giggle escapes you. “Ahh,” you say.

“You? It sounds busy in there.”

“Yeah, I’m outside the club.”

“Fun night?”

“No.” You don’t lie, you never lie to him. Don’t have the need to, or the want to. Everything about Jungkook is comfort – the kind that welcomes. 

“Yeah, had a feeling. It’s not really your scene, is it?”

Your head leans to the side, eyes closing for a moment. He knows you in ways most people don’t, and it’s a simple remark but it gets to you. The fact that he doesn’t see you for the parts of you that feel the emptiest settles on your heart. It’s good, you think, to be seen by someone who observes.

“I want to see you.” There’s all the point in the world to be honest right now. 

“Come over. I’ll make you ramen.”

“Will you show me your cat?”

There’s a pause. You picture him smiling, biting his lip, running a hand through his hair. 

“Yeah, that too.”

~

You sway from side to side, a little drunkenly and a whole lot excited, as you stand in front of his door. It’s brief, but as you wait you make a little reflection on your emotions. What exactly do you feel right now? It’s been so long – probably not that long – but long enough to make you happier than usual to be seeing his face. Anyone else would make you nervous, and perhaps he does, too, if only a little. But it’s a different kind of nervous. It’s laced with sweetness, as opposed to anxiety. And the minute he opens his front door, it’s replaced by something sweeter. 

Yearning. 

He stands there, glasses and black sweatpants on, signature oversized shirt – something so very home about him. Your eyes widen as you take in his hair, it’s grown significantly, giving you a rough idea of when it was you last saw him. Two, three months ago. He looks good; rested, fresh, beautiful. You can smell him before you even touch him and it makes you smile. He returns it. 

Yeah – yearning. 

“I like your hair,” you say, because anything else would give you away. 

“Yeah?” he runs a hand through it. “I like you.”

“I like you, too.” Let it give you away, you think. Who cares?

“Alright, well- it was nice seeing you.” He says, closing the door in a too casual, yet dramatic manner and you laugh, simply standing there – a little flustered because, oh does it feel good when Jeon Jungkook flirts with you in that boyish, teasing way only he knows how. 

He doesn’t close the door all the way. Instead, he leaves it open far enough for you to see the way he peeks his head out, nose scrunch and toothy smile to signal just how proud he is of himself right now. 

“Come here,” he tells you, reaching his hand out from the little gap and pulling you closer as you yelp, squeezing through the nearly closed door. “I missed you.”

You’re in his arms again, and the moment he closes the door behind you, his lips are on yours. It’s a soft kiss, one that says I missed you because you know him well enough by now to understand the things he says with his lips, and his eyes. With his hands, too.

“Mm,-“ you don’t want to pull back to get your words out, so you don’t. “Me more.”

Jungkook was always a happy coincidence – or at least that’s what you told yourself in a futile attempt to tame the feelings down. But the truth was that being back in his arms felt like fate, in that gentle way that doesn’t come in a movie-like encounter or in some sort of catastrophe bringing you together. Just being here. Anywhere, with him, felt fateful. You opt to believe in angels right this second just to thank them. 

“How are you,” his hand cups your cheek, pecking your lips before you can answer. 

“Good- better now.” His kisses muffle your words and you think you could live with this interruption for the rest of your life. 

“Yeah, me too.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him closer as he circles his around your middle. You take him in, not one for big displays of affection yet this one you could never deny, could never not welcome. 

It’s a sweet moment but the pull turns hasty soon enough the more your lips become familiar with one another yet again. You run your fingers through his long hair, rejoicing in its softness and length. His hand travels down, slowly but a bit desperately, squeezing when they meet your ass. 

What has a promising ending is cut short by none other than your rumbling stomach. It’s rather loudly and you both hear it, laughing in the middle of the kiss you two seem to refuse parting from. 

“You hungry, baby?”

“You promised ramen. And something about a cat.” Your lips part and you look at him, a pretty smile on his equally pretty face. 

“Mm, yeah. I did. I’m all stocked up on ramen but the cat…,”

“I prefer Bamie anyways.” 

You leave his arms, a smile on your face as you walk towards his beloved child’s crate. The moment he sees you, he hesitates for a moment, not yet having Jungkook’s command to leave his space but he’s excited – you can even make up his little tail wagging from side to side. 

“Come here, baby.”

He runs to you and nearly tackles you, settling into the floor to give him the proper cuddles he deserves. He steps on you the way he did when he was a puppy, sitting down on your knees as you scratch under his ears. 

“No one’s allowed to tell him he’s grown up. He’s little forever.”

Jungkook laughs. “He’s Jiminie’s height.” 

You sneer at him, shaking your head at his joke. He stands there, staring at you with a fondness he reserves for certain things that bring him that kind of comfort that’s gotten rarer over the years. He’s grown up, matured and gotten real about a lot of things but not you.

Never you. 

You’re still the innocence he kissed you with that very first time and the little bit of fear it wouldn’t go further than that. You’re the excitement he had when it did. You’re the flirty teasing and the falling in trust, opening himself little by little. You’re still something he once dreamt about – he still does. You’re the thing he has and doesn’t at the same time. You’re you. 

Your loud giggles as Bam licks your cheek wake him up from his little daydream and he winces at the sloppy kisses he’s leaving. You don’t seem to mind though and he knows that if it were up to you, you’d stay there til dawn. No ramen, no cat. 

“Alright, alright. Daddy’s getting jealous now. You can’t have her all to yourself.”

Your cheeky smile tells him you’re up to no good. “Daddy, huh? Have we ever tried that?”

“What haven’t we tried?” He genuinely ponders on his own question. 

“Pegging!” You say, a little too quickly and excitedly for his liking. 

“Absolutely not.”

“Mean.”

“Come on, let’s feed you.”

You smile. “Okay, daddy.”

~

It’s a chaos in the kitchen in between distracting kisses and your tipsy antics, munching on Jungkook’s leftover fried chicken as you scavenger hunt his cupboards for anything that could satisfy your alcohol induced need for sweets and carbs. You’d begged for pancakes, but he didn’t have any honey, and what’s pancakes without honey, really? 

“Ramen. Enoki and spring onions.” He says, convincing himself more than he convinces you.

“Okayyyyy. Ramen, enoki- what else did you say?”

His thumb and pointer finger rest at his temples in mock exasperation, making you giggle. “Hey, why don’t you go shower? This’ll be ready when you’re done.”

“Will you be able to work a knife with the thought of me all wet and naked in your shower?” 

“I’ll get you wet and naked later. Go sober up. Quick, quick!”

You laugh, kissing his cheek loudly and ruffling his hair before you leave the kitchen, making your way to his bedroom with familiarity - like you’ve done it hundreds of times and perhaps you have if you were to count. 

You know where he keeps the towels, that it’s the left tap that opens the hot water, the way his soap smells and what brand of shampoo he uses. His face wash and moisturizer are familiar to you because it’s the same brand you use. You’d left them here once and never got the bottles back. He began purchasing them after they ran out. 

You put on the same black Carhartt shirt you always do. It feels and smells the same. It makes you yearn and when you miss him, you smile in the comfort of knowing he’s in the kitchen, probably eating ramen from the pot as you take your sweet time in the bathroom. 

All clean and cozy, his house always being the perfect temperature with the add on warmth that swarms your insides at knowing you’re with him, you make your way back to the kitchen. He’s reaching for bowls, back to you and your voice startles him when you say,

“Don’t get dishes dirty, let’s eat from the pot.”

He turns to you, a boyish smile forming on his lips at the sight of you in his comfy, oversized shirt. He’s seen you in it more times than he can count but it still makes his insides tingle. Butterflies, dare he say, is what the sight gives him. 

“You sure?”

“Aren’t you? Afraid of exchanging saliva?” You poke your tongue at him and he grabs your wrist, pulling you swiftly towards him. 

“Not the funnest way we’ve exchanged juices, but it’ll do for now.”

“Juices.” Your nose scrunches at his words.

“Mm.”

He kisses you, ramen getting cold in the pot as your lips make him forget all about his hunger in the first place. Your stomach doesn’t, though. Interrupting your heated little moment yet again. 

“Feed me.”

“On your knees, then.” He teases, lips still on yours. 

“That sounds more like a treat than a threat.”

He smiles, passing you the chopsticks. “I knew you’d say that.”

“Am I that predictable?”

“With me. Yes. Just me.”

His words are selfish, of this much he’s aware. He knows exclusivity is too much to ask for. He knows the baggage he comes with and the hesitation that shines through your eyes whenever you find yourselves slipping into comfort and familiarity a little too much. How he can almost tell he’s about to go a season without you, just by this comfort alone. But he can’t help but want you, all to himself. He can’t help but say you’re his even if he’s just saying it. And when the smile on your lips meet your eyes in an almost nostalgic way, he knows you feel the same. 

“Yeah. I am.”

“I am with you, too.”

“I’d say I tried to talk myself out of texting you tonight, but I’d be lying.” Your chopsticks play with the noodles, eyes not meeting his. 

“Why would you talk yourself out of texting me?”

You shrug. 

“Don’t.” His voice is firm and your eyes finally look at his. “I’m always- I always want to see you, ___.”

“I know, it’s just- you know.” You say, and he does. He knows what you mean and he’s glad you don’t voice it because he doesn’t think he can bear the words that would only add insult to injury to the way your gaze falls, that spark threatening to dim its light.

“Yeah,” he gets closer, but it’s almost careful. His thumb caresses your cheek and you lean into his touch. “But you’re here now. I want you here now. Come back to me.”

You stare into his big eyes, smiling at him not because your heart isn’t breaking but because you wouldn’t dare break his with the reality of the situation. So you lie, but it holds truth. “I’m always with you.” 

As you two eat, in bursts of comfortable silences and mindless yet meaningful conversations, you start to get used to him again. You’re too tired to fight it, and when you welcome it, it’s sweet. 

~

The pot is empty, your bellies full. You lean against the counter as he puts you to date, catches you up on what his life has looked like for the past two months or so. Trips to L.A., New York, photoshoots, late nights in the recording studio, music videos, long flights and a Calvin Klein campaign you shamelessly admit to swoon over every time you pass by it. He asks about you and you keep your updates mostly work related. Long flights, long meetings, long days. Short bursts of inspiration and even shorter waves of motivation. You omit to tell him about the things you’re maybe not so proud of. The partying, the drinking on a wednesday night, the way your friends don’t feel like your friends anymore, more like acquaintances that keep you around when they deem convenient. You think his words could help, provide comfort and advice, but at the same time you fear the reality of the situation could burst the bubble of bliss you find yourself in right this moment. 

So you talk. You catch up. You play friends for a while, feel real mature when he shares snippets of his life that involve other people, other girls. People in his radar, his line of work, the love interest in his music video. Jungkook does, too. Feels like perhaps he’s come a long way when you tell him about trips you’ve taken with friends, new restaurants you’ve tried, galas he knows you haven’t attended alone. It’s all fine, it’s good. Total control of your feelings as you take each other in. 

Bam interrupts him mid-sentence, a sleepy whine in half protest he lets out as he walks inside the kitchen. 

“Aw, Jungkook,” you coo, “he’s sleepy.”

“Time for bed, Bamie?” He smiles, reaching down to scratch under his ears. “I’ll be right back.” 

“I’ll be here.” 

You smile, well aware that he keeps his dog bed in a cozy room in his house, quite literally puts him to bed every night. It makes you think about how good of a dad he’ll make one day, how much love is stored inside of him, how he likes to be needed and shows affection through acts of service. Your smile drops a bit, a feeling taking over you that you don’t like but have grown used to over the years. 

You snap out of it, busying yourself as you begin to tidy up the kitchen, sliding his pink rubber gloves over your hands before you start washing the single pot, knife and chopsticks he’d used to make you dinner. It doesn’t take him long to be back, though, walking back inside the kitchen and smiling at the sight before him. You hum a song he can’t make up, hips shimmying to the beat as you scrub the pot. Your shirt rides up a little and he cocks his head to the side, smiling at the way your underwear peeks from underneath the fabric. A black and lacy thong that has him nodding his head in boyish satisfaction. 

“You don’t have to do that,” he tells you, making you jump in place a bit at the sound of his voice.

You turn around, bringing a gloved finger to your lips as you shush him before you’re pointing it at the couch and shooing him away. “I’ll only be a second. Wait for me there.”

“‘Kay, boss.” He army salutes you, turning around and walking back to the couch, sitting down and sinking further into the cushions, legs spreading as he scrolls through his phone, a bit impatiently, missing you even though you’re so close. 

And to Jungkook’s great fortune, he doesn’t have to wait for much longer. Wrapping it up in the kitchen, you give it one last glance to make sure it’s back to its pristine state before you’re making your way towards him. He looks up at you, throwing his phone to the side and following you with his eyes, smiling when you’re in front of him.

“Thank you for dinner,” you say, voice sweet and low, eyes a bit hazy.

“Come here.” He takes your hand in his, pulling you closer to him, bottom lip getting caught between his teeth as you throw your legs at either side of him, straddling him. 

“I needed this,” you admit.

“Me too,” he breathes. “I’m glad you called.”

You pout, eyes looking up for a second as you ponder. “You called me.”

He chuckles, not a single ounce of desire to deny you. “I’m glad I called.”

You giggle, arms wrapping around his neck and fingers getting lost in his long hair. His head draws back as your nails massage his scalp gently and he relaxes at your touch, goosebumps adorning his skin. His hands travel under your shirt, promptly finding your hips, waist, and then threatening to go higher but Jungkook wants to take his time tonight. He wants to stay in the sweet state of wanting you for a bit longer. When his eyes are back on yours, you kiss him. He sighs against your lips, bringing you closer to him by the waist, letting his tongue taste your bottom lip before he’s tasting your mouth. It’s slow, a bit sloppy and lazy, holds the quality of anything that happens in the middle of the night, when no one’s watching and time stills for the two of you. 

“Your skin is so soft,” he says, lips still on yours. 

“It’s your body lotion.” You roll your hips over his, smiling when you pull a low groan straight out of him. 

“Yeah,” he says, hands traveling down before he’s squeezing your ass, guiding your hips into his. “You smell like me. I like it.”

“I like it, too.” Your words get caught up in a moan as the outline of his cock parts your slit perfectly. 

You pull away a bit hesitantly, hands coming to rest at his shoulders as your hips pick up the pace. You go slow but sink deeper into him with every roll of your lips, eyes never parting from his as you take in the way his face starts to contort in pleasure, mouth parting slightly as his breathing grows heavier, little grunts leaving his lips with every push and pull. His hands travel back down to your hips, squeezing a little at the soft flesh, guiding them as you move over his cock. He’s so hard, can feel you through the layers, can bet on the fact that you’re wet and pulsing for him right now. 

“That feels good,” he sighs, gaze dropping as he rides your shirt up a bit at the front. His eyes fixate on the way the thin, lacy fabric of your panties bunches up every time you throw your hips back. 

“Brings back memories,” you say, voice a bit shaky when a particular roll of your hips has the tip of his cock hitting right against your clit. 

Jungkook smiles, mind hazy but perfectly able to picture the memories you refer to. “Mhm,” he sighs, so entrapped by the feeling he swears he can feel you pulse against him. He likes the way you consume his senses. The way everything around him stills and all he can think about is you. His hands squeeze at the flesh on your hips before he says, “turn around, baby.”

“‘Kay.”

Jungkook feels the loss of your warmth as you stand up before him once again, smiling at him before you’re turning around and sitting on his lap. You press your back to his chest, letting your head fall to his shoulder, your lips meeting his cheek in an open mouth kiss. His hands travel up your body, palms closing around your tits, thumbs playing with your nipples over the thick fabric of your shirt. You circle your hips, chasing the same friction from before but it’s not enough in this position. You bring your body forward, hands resting on his thighs as you throw your ass back at him, your pussy perfectly aligned on top of his cock, making you both moan at the same time. Jungkook’s gaze drops to your ass, enthralled by the way he feels, by the way you look. He rides your shirt up your back, exposes you to him and it only eggs you on, moving against his cock at the perfect rhythm. 

He hooks a finger down the side of your panties, letting it travel down, smiling lazily at the way you trap his knuckles between your pussy and his cock, moaning as you grind on them. He can feel how wet you are, dripping for him already even though he hasn’t touched you yet. “Want my fingers, baby?”

“Yes, please,” you plead, voice shaky as you look back at him. 

He’d usually tease you, make you beg for it a little longer, but tonight Jungkook obliges. It’s been long – too long – and all he can think about is being inside you, feeling you around him, making you feel good. He takes his time simply so he can savor the moment. So he can memorize it well enough to store it somewhere inside of him, just in case it’s another three months until he sees you again. 

He pushes his middle and ring finger inside of you, hissing at your warmth, cock jumping inside his sweatpants in anticipation and a little big of neglect. You close your eyes, pleasure taking over you as he begins to thrust his fingers inside of you slowly, arching expertly every time they hit your g-spot. His free hand squeezes around your ass cheek, groaning when the hand that fucks into you pushes down on his cock, aiding at giving him some much needed friction. You feel lightheaded already, all-consumed in his hold as he takes over your every sense. Your body relaxes and you can feel the way your tummy tenses right away. 

“Fuck, I think I’m gonna cum,” your voice is faint but he hears you well enough. 

“Already? That was fast, baby.” You don’t miss the cocky tone his words hint at. 

“Shut up and don’t stop,” you say, looking back at him playfully. 

You see the way he smiles at you before his gaze is dropping back down, fingers moving expertly inside of you at the same pace, applying a bit more force as he pushes in, massaging that spot with the tip of his fingers. The added pressure has you mewling in no time, nails digging into his thighs, teeth biting at your bottom lip to ground you back into the moment as you let go. 

“Fuck,” he says as he feels you cum around his fingers, sweet moans filling the space around you and he so badly wishes he could look at your face right now. “Yeah, baby, that’s it.” He feels the way you contract around him, hips circling over his hand as you ride the waves of pleasure. 

You come down after a minute, mind still hazy as you fall back into him, lips finding his the moment he turns his head to the side. You kiss him, breathing into his mouth, smiling in your fucked out bliss. “That was so good.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you say, pressing your forehead to his. “I need you to fuck me now.”

“Want it?” he asks, and you nod your head. “You can have it.” 

“Yeah, want it so bad, Jungkook.” Your voice is needy, holds a dreaminess to it that Jungkook doesn’t miss – one that makes him melt into your words, your touch, your lips as you kiss him again. 

Jungkook presses his hips into you, raising them a bit as he pushes his sweatpants down. You help him take them off, hand reaching back before you’re wrapping it around his cock. He’s hard and pulsing for you and if you weren’t pulsing for him, too, you’d probably want him in your mouth right this second. He feels heavy, big and thick in your hold, a grunt leaving his lips when your thumb circles around the head. You love how sensitive he is, how receptive. 

“Condom,” he says, before he runs out of blood in his brain and it all falls down to his cock. 

“In my bag,” you say, reaching to the side and pulling it towards you. You rummage around it for a second too long – a second that has Jungkook’s mind betraying him. He shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t. But nonetheless he can’t help but wonder where you’d be right now if he’d been asleep and hadn’t seen your text. Perhaps in the same position but with a stranger. Or maybe a stranger only to Jungkook. Perhaps he hadn’t been the only person you texted tonight. “Here you go, baby.” 

Your voice dismantles his worries and he’s warm again, all thoughts vanishing and it’s back to you and him. He leans forward, kissing your lips as he takes the condom from your hand. It makes you blush slightly, biting your lip in anticipation as you watch as he rips the foil of the packaging with his teeth. You watch the way he smirks as he rolls the condom on. 

“Why are you smiling?”

“Just thinking,” he says, smile growing wider, cheek dimples making him look cute but something about his voice begs to differ. 

You hum. “Thinking about what?”

He smiles. “July 14th, 2021.”

You both crack up, laughter filling the air the moment the words leave his mouth because of course you know what July 14th, 2021 meant. You’d been in a position very similar to this one, perhaps a bit more hazy minded, the true meaning of the heat of the moment finding you the minute you’d realized neither of you had a condom. You’d looked into each other’s eyes and made the silent agreement to be a little reckless and put a whole lot of trust on birth control and Jungkook’s pull out game. 

He said he’d never forget that day. 

“Long live, July 14th, 2021,” you say. 

“Shhh,” he says, squinting his eyes and bringing a finger to his mouth. “Don’t remind me.”

“You reminded yourself,” you bite back. “Now, can you fuck me? Pretty please.”

“Yeah, baby, come here.”

You push your ass back at him, looking at him from over your shoulder, biting your lip in anticipation as he strokes his cock once, twice, before he’s lining himself against your entrance. His hand comes to your hip, pulling you down towards him as you push him inside of you. You both sigh, moaning as he bottoms out, so deep and warm it has Jungkook throwing his head back against the couch, sinking further into it and pushing impossibly deeper into you. 

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you whimper, nails digging into his flesh. 

“Fuck me, baby,” he says, running a hand through his long hair. You nod, circling your hips a couple of times as you adjust to his size before you start moving your hips into him, ass bouncing with every push and pull. He hisses at the sight alone, bringing his hand down as he delivers a hard slap against your cheek, making you moan. “Shit, just like that. You’re so hot, ___.”

“Jungkook,” you whisper.

“Yeah, baby?” His eyes are back on yours, threatening to close in pleasure at the way your pussy feels around him. 

“I missed you.”

“I missed you, baby. So much.”

You fall into his chest, kissing him as he wraps his hand around your throat, not applying any pressure, just simply holding you. You gasp into his mouth when his other hand travels down and finds your clit, drawing lazy circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves. You whine and he moans when you move your hips to the rhythm of his touch.

“I don’t wanna be on top anymore,” you say, pouting into his lips, frowning when you feel his chest shake in laughter. 

“Of course you don’t.”

“I’m an awful top.”

“You’re not a top.”

“Hey, I was a good top that one time,” you protest.

“Mm, yeah, that was hot. You got all bossy on me.”

“Oh, but that’s regardless,” you tell him, pushing your lips into his once more and straightening your back, smiling as you look back at him. He wipes said smile off your face in a second, hand meeting your ass in another hard slap. 

“Stay there,” he says, holding firmly onto your hips. 

“Okay, daddy.” That earns you another slap, though you can’t say it wasn’t exactly the goal in mind. 

“Behave.”

Your face grows pliant as you nod at him and Jungkook has to fight to keep up the front because if he’s being honest, the sight alone drives him crazy, threatens to break him down completely and leave him a needy, whiny mess. He holds you in place, legs raising you up a bit before he starts pistoling his hips against you, fucking you hard and fast and even though you saw it coming, it still takes you by surprise. The force of his thrusts, how good he feels as the pain translates into pleasure, the noises he makes – it’s all too much but fuck, you don’t want him to ever stop. Your mouth parts in a silent moan, eyes closing as your face contorts in pleasure before the sensation ripples through you and you’re crying out. Your hand holds onto his arm and the firm grasp you have on it let’s him know.

“Fuck, I’m cummin,” you breathe out.

“Fuck yeah, baby. Cum all over my cock.”

“Oh my God,” you say, voice shaky and faint as you throw your body back into his. 

“Fuck, I love your pussy.”

“I love your cock,” you say, fucked out giggles escaping your lips. 

It takes you both a minute to steady your breathing and regain your strength. Jungkook kisses your neck, snaking a hand inside your shirt and squeezing your boob as you arch your back at the feel. “Let’s get you to bed, princess.”

“Music to my ears,” you say, giddy and excited. 

Your knees buckle a bit when your feet touch the floor, the both of you laughing at your loss of balance, Jungkook a bit more cockily than you. He slaps your ass softly once, then twice as you begin to walk towards his bedroom. Once inside he takes his shirt off and when you turn around, your eyes scan over his body, metaphorically and possibly physically drooling over him. Your hands find the hem of your t-shirt before you’re pulling it off your body and tossing it aside until it’s landing on top of his. Your tits bounce as you do, and he nods his head at you, a satisfied pout adorning his lips. The pout turns sour the moment you turn around but is soon enough replaced with a smile when you start to crawl on top of his big mattress, finding the perfect spot over his pillows and laying down comfortably. 

“You’re so perfect.” Jungkook says, because anything else would downplay it and he’s not in the mood to run away from the truth. You giggle, soft and sweet and he feels the way his heart aches for you inside his chest. 

“Come to me,” you say, arms outstretched towards him. He makes his way to you, letting himself hover over you for a minute as he takes you in before he’s falling perfectly between your legs. You kiss him, letting your fingers get lost in his hair, breathing into the kiss and you swear this moment is laced in pure, unadulterated bliss. “Want to feel you inside me.”

“I’ll give it to you, baby. I’ll give you anything you want.”

There it is, yet again, and without a fail. It’s so common you nearly miss it – the way the moment turns tender. It’s mostly soft, this unspoken agreement you’ve fallen into with Jungkook. It’s friendship and attraction, good sex and years of exploring each other. It’s trust and communication. It’s understanding. It’s soft at the beginning and tender halfway through. It’s so tender it feels tangible, like the moment itself could fit inside the palm of your hand and feel ripe to the touch as you hold onto it. It’s tender when he looks into your eyes, it’s tender when his voice says your name, when you kiss his lips. It’s tender when the lust borders on something else. It’s tender when it lingers, when it threatens to fall. 

He fucks you, hips moving against yours slowly, pulling moans out of your lips that get caught between his own when he kisses you. 

“You feel so good,” you whisper into his mouth, words that only he could hear even if it weren’t just the two of you. 

“Fuck, baby, so do you,” he whines, supple and yours, even if for that moment. “I’m not gonna last much longer.”

You smile, hand running through his hair before your fingers are pushing a strand behind his hear. “Cum for me, Kookie. Wanna feel you cum for me.”

Your words throw him over the edge, falling blissfully into you. It feels so fucking good. Your fingers running through his hair, down his neck and then back up again. The way your pussy clenches around him, cock throbbing for you at the wake of his release. Your lips are soft and the rise and fall of your chest falls into perfect sync with his. His hand squeezes at your breast before it’s traveling down your body, squeezing at your thigh before you’re wrapping your legs around his waist, flushed to him. Every little thing you do heightens his senses until all he can breathe, think and feel is you. His face falls down the crook of your neck and you breathe out a moan into his ear, unraveling him completely.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, baby.” His hips slow down before they still completely, a moan passing his lips as he releases into the condom, your nails softly running down his spine. His body feels spent but he doesn’t miss the way it relaxes on top of you, blissful and peaceful, growing sleepy right away. 

“Feel good?” you ask, your fingertips running down his back in what feels like a feathery whisper. 

“So fucking good,” he mumbles against the skin of your shoulder before his eyes are finding yours again. He kisses you. He kisses you because in moments like this he wants to say something else, something that makes more sense to his heart than anything his brain could say.

You kiss him back, afraid your heart will betray you, too. 

~

You stare at him as you make your way back to his bed. He lays on his tummy, cheek pressed against the soft pillow, his pretty hair framing his face in a way that makes him look dreamlike. He doesn’t move an inch when you pull back the covers, if only for a second, to get back in bed with him. You lay on your side, eyes still fixed on him and your heart grows a new kind of tender at the sight of his sleeping form. He’s pouty and soft and so, so peaceful. Something sinks in your tummy, but it’s not in a way that signals bad news. Perhaps it’s the butterflies settling, perhaps the heat of the moment has began to cool down. 

Your hand comes to his face, fingers gently pushing his hair out of his eyes before you let them wander down his face. His cheeks are soft, his ears cold and when it tickles, he frowns. Your thumb travels up again, smoothing his brow bone and he relaxes. Your eyes follow your touch as you trace the bridge of his nose, slowly, softly, as if you were being quizzed on it later. Wanting to take everything in, afraid that even blinking could take away from the moment. And when your finger lands on his lips, you trace that too the way your own did only minutes prior. 

His eyes begin to flutter, a failed attempt to open them but you know he’s partially awake from the smile that pulls at his lips. You feel it on your finger before your eyes meet his gesture and when they do, you close them instinctively, leaning over and kissing him. His body can’t respond to his brain right now, exhausted and more asleep than he is awake, but he hums in satisfaction, lips puckering as he tries to give into his instincts. 

“Let’s have breakfast together tomorrow,” he mumbles against your lips. “I’ll go buy honey and make you pancakes.” 

You smile, though he can’t see, and perhaps it’s for the best. Your voice is a whisper when you say, “deal.”

His smile is the last thing you see before you fall asleep.

~

[rwrbficrecs]

Thanks for all the love on the recent Readers' Choice list ✨ The May faves are a little late but hope you all enjoy these recs 💕

you turned a moment (into forever) by viciouslyqueer (book-verse)

@suseagull04: Think of the fluffiest bedsharing fic you've ever read and combine it with a college roommates AU, and you have this fic! I can't stress enough just how soft this fic is, this is the perfect fic for if you need a quick pick-me-up!

running through my mind all day by allthelovesaved (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Henry rarely, if ever, jogs. It's not something that interests him. That is until he stumbles upon Alex's TikTok profile (thanks, Pez!!). Alex, a passionate runner, shares his knowledge in a captivating way. Coincidentally, he's also the brother of Henry's colleague June, who convinces him to join their "group running thing"... This sweet, sweet story is fluffy and funny, very soft and a little silly (says the author), and it just made me very, very happy.

Wit and Wisdom by @pridepages (book-verse)

@heysweetheart-writes: A window into the future of "Little Matters" my absolute favorite story. Im so in love with this family and happy to see the woman Cat has become and how much of Alex she carries with her. I cried and laughed and EJ left me wanting more of them as usual. If you haven't read Little Matters yet, what are you doing with your life?? Haha

hymns down your sides by @smc-27 (book-verse)

@na-dineee: One of my favourite authors delivers yet again! Henry, a refined boyband veteran in his mid-30s, meets wild, lately kind of self-destructive boyband star Alex. Henry can't probably save him, but maybe he can give him a push in the right direction? This story put me through the emotional wringer. So many feelings, so much hurt, and the chemistry - absolutely gripping!

the poem you make of me by @omgcmere (book-verse)

@suseagull04: The riches found within this fic know no bounds! It's a writer Henry AU that maintains a lot of the same themes as the book (which it coveys just as well), but it adds another layer of heart with the fact that in this verse, Henry is not just a writer, but a poet.

Savasana by @iboatedhere (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Lawyer Alex has hit a low point in his career. The situation is absolutely not pretty, and understandably, Alex is skeptical about whether yoga can fix it, as June suggests. Can yoga instructor Henry straighten things out for Alex? - Alex pulls one Alex after another - it gave me whiplash in the best possible way! The story is very touching and sweet, also absolutely hilarious at the same time !! So fun to read !!

Henry Fox, All-American Hero by @tintagel-or-cockleshells (book-verse)

@suseagull04: This is an AU of a book I loved in middle school, so not only did it give me so much nostalgia, but it has all the quirkiness of RWRB too! Alex in this is so mischievous and sweet, and I love it!

A Wretched Beginning by @royalasstronaut (book-verse)

@dot524: This was a fun romp — forbidden relationship, college/academic AU, tension and angst, and loads of longing. Henry is Alex’s TA and um… things happen. Oh, and they may also be connected in other mysterious ways.

Pleasant Melody by @clottedcreamfudge (book-verse)

@zwiazdziarka: Love at first sight that feels magical in otherworldly way is one of my favourite kinds of love stories. And this fic is a spectacular example! Henry is a pirate, Alex is a very special siren, they shouldn't make sense but they do. The longing is excellent and I would gladly read ten more fics based on the same concept.

Meant to Be Yours by @affectionatelyrs & @happiness-of-the-pursuit (book-verse)

@zwiazdziarka: Definitely one of the most unhinged fics I've read in this fandom. (Warning: proceed with caution!) Alex loves Henry, Henry doesn't know Alex exists. Alex's dream is of course to meet Henry and his attempts to do so are... worrying. Second-hand embarrassment hits hard, highly recommend!

check out our past Monthly Faves here ❤️

[redgoldsparks]

Podcasts I love and recommend

I spent a truly extraordinary amount of time listening to podcasts this year, including my perennial faves and some new discoveries! I wanted to write up a bit about each of the ones I recommend the most highly, and give them some of the same attention and love I put into my book reviews. Recs below the cut. (This post brought to you by my patreon).

MATERIAL GIRLS- This is, hands down, my favorite podcast of all time. Friends and scholars Hannah McGregor and Marcelle Kosman take on a new pop culture subject in each episode and examine the material conditions and historical setting that made their subject of the week zeitgeisty. They bring an expansive feminist lens, different types of critical theory, and tons of humor to each topic. I feel like I am slowly getting a media studies degree one episode at a time as I listen to this show. Some of my favorite episodes tackled Jurassic Park, Dopamine, Twilight, Taylor Swift, Bridgerton, and Queer Eye. I have guested on this podcast and also support them on patreon so I can get all of that sweet sweet bonus content! (This show uploads full transcripts but they lag behind the audio episodes in updates). 

GENDER REVEAL- Journalist, writer, and now small-press founder Tuck Woodstock interviews trans folks on a wide range of topics. A characteristic episode includes some deeply intimate or tender moments mixed with wild tangents, extreme silliness and irreverence. I listen to every single episode and also back them on patreon for the extra episodes; some recent conversations that have really stuck with me include Colby Gordon, a founder of Early Modern Trans Studies; trans historian Susan Stryker; Jewish anti-Zionist comic author Solomon J Brager; writer Lucy Sante; and multimedia artist (and friend of mine) Shing Yin Khor. This podcast gets a special award for recommending more books that I actually end up reading than any other podcast. This year alone I’ve read at least 6 books by authors Tuck has interviewed (I Heard Her Call My Name, Heavyweight, Hijab Butch Blues, Transgender History, Boys Weekend, Practical Anarchism, Falling Back in Love With Being Human) and I have more on my TBR (The Prospects, When Monsters Speak). (This show also uploads full transcripts). 

PUBLISHING RODEO- This is a new fav! I discovered this podcast over the summer and binged all 44 available episodes in about a month. Hosts Sunyi Dean and Scott Drakeford are friends and fellow Tor authors. In 2022, they both released debut novels in the same genre, in the same year, with the same publisher, to very different results. They are remarkably candid about the nuts and bolts of their publishing deals, and in each episode interview another author, usually one early in their publishing career, on signing agents, selling books, the size of their advance, resulting royalties and more. I have learned so much about the publishing industry from this show- I’ve sold 3 books, and yet it turns out there’s still loads I don’t know. I’d recommend starting with the intro episode in which Sunyi and Scott introduce themselves and then you can jump around to any interview which interests you. Their recent conversation with Chuck Tingle was especially delightful. (This show also uploads full transcripts). 

PRINT RUN PODCAST- Another new discovery, also about the publishing/writing industry. Hosts Laura Zats and Erik Hane are both literary agents at a small agency they founded together. They discuss current events in the book news world or focused single subjects, often for early career writers. Because this show is more focused on current events, I haven’t dived super far into their back catalog, but listened to a handful of episodes from the past two years and plan to continue listening as new episodes are released. Laura and Erik also have a very cool patreon special bonus offering- they will critique query letters and first pages submitted from listeners. I haven’t written a query letter since probably 2017, so the refresher course was extremely valuable! I’d recommend the episode The Books That Made Us as a good starting point in this show. (As far as I can tell, they do not release transcripts.)

FIC CLIQUE- This is an old favorite I have recommended before. In a standard episode, the three hosts Nic, Reid, and Brenna each bring one fanfiction to read and discuss book-club style. In the past year, I’ve been particularly enjoying some of the mini-episodes that break this format. If you want to give it a try but you’ve less interested in hearing people talk about a fandom you aren’t in, I’d suggest the episodes on Mapping Fannish Migration, Books and Fandom, and Genre and Subgenre in Fanfiction. (As far as I can tell, they do not release transcripts.)

FANSPLAINING- Tragically (for me), this beloved long-running show wrapped this summer with its final standard format episode after 9 years and 200+ episodes. However, there’s still more to look forward to! Fansplaining has shifted to become primarily a publisher of fandom related journalism, and they’ve been releasing audio versions of each article along with the text, generally recorded by the author. I find these so charming, almost like new mini episodes of the show. Find a full list of their articles here; I especially loved the recent ones on The Beatles RPF fandom (still going strong!) and Bringing Fanfiction into the Classroom.  (This show has full transcripts).

SHELVED BY GENRE- In this show, the three hosts re-read popular sci-fi or fantasy book series and record long rambling episodes which both summarize and analyze their current texts. When I say they ramble… most episodes are over 2 hours, some pushing 3 hours. I started on this show when they began reading the Earthsea series by Ursula K Le Guin, which I have read multiple times in past years. I skipped their episodes on Gene Wolfe, who I haven’t read, as well as some movie and horror focused episodes. But I happily dived back in for the unit on Mercedes Lackey’s Last Herald Mage Trilogy, which was perhaps the first book with an out queer character I ever read; the queer host on the show, Michael, similarly remembers this as a foundational queer text from his teen years. I am very happy that the next author the hosts plan to discuss is William Gibson, who I might re-read to keep pace with the show. I recommend checking out their 40+ back episodes to see if there’s something you are interested in! (As far as I can tell, they do not release transcripts.)

STUFF THE BRITISH STOLE- I found this 3 season podcast sometime in the middle of the year, hosted by an Australian journalist following the trail of objects (or sometimes animals or people) the British stole during the height of their colonial reign. The episodes generally run 35-45 minutes and feature interviews, history, and usually live records of the host seeing the item, whether it’s currently in a museum, a private collection, a random high school, or the site of a foreign grave. You can jump around to whatever topic that interests you, but I can definitely recommend the episode Blood Art as one of very few in which an item is repatriated! (As far as I can tell, they do not release transcripts.)

LIVE LIKE THE WORLD IS DYING- A Margaret Killjoy and a group of queer anarchist friends rotate the hosting of this show. Once a month they release a “This Month in the Apocalypse” update which I started listening to in November and plan to keep up with going forward, but probably won’t listen to back episodes of as it’s very current-events focused. However there are other conversations/interview style episodes released between the monthly updates. Two recent interviews that really stuck with me were Spencer Sunshine on his zine “40 Ways To Fight Fascists” (which I subsequently downloaded and read) and Henri Feola on their zine “The Veil Between Worlds is Plexiglass”, which chronicles some of their experience spending 96 days in jail after being arrested protesting Atlanta’s Cop City and the police murder of Tortuguita, a protester defending the Weelaunee People’s Forest. I have a friend in Atlanta who was arrested at the same protest so I’ve been following this case; this conversation felt important and needed, as I expect there will be even more arrests of protestors in the coming years. (As far as I can tell, they do not release transcripts.)

BORROWED AND BANNED- The Brooklyn Public Library released this 7 episode limited run podcast on book bans, book challenges, how it’s affecting teachers, students, librarians and authors. I was one of several authors interviewed for the show, and you can hear my interview as a separate bonus episode; but I highly recommend listening to the whole thing because it’s a very close and personal look at these national issues- which I expect to get worse under the Trump administration. (This show has full transcripts).

SOLD A STORY- This is a 10 episode limited run podcast about how a misinformed educational specialist’s incorrect idea of how children learn to read damaged the literacy of a whole generation of school children. This podcast explores different research on reading, how sweeping educational policies like Bush’s “No Child Left Behind” impacted schools and how textbook companies pushing expensive reading-kit book sets have all negatively impacted schools. The later episodes contain messages and voicemails from parents, teachers, and students reacting to the show and some hope of change on better educational resources. I’ve probably made this sound dry but it’s genuinely a very emotional journey- as someone who really struggled to learn to read, I found this show riveting. (This show has full transcripts).

THE REDEMPTION OF JAR JAR BINKS- This 6 episode limited run show is hosted by Dylan Marron, better known as the host of Conversations with People Who Hate Me and for his role as Carlos on the podcast Welcome to Nightvale. Marron was the target of a fair amount of internet hate himself, which made him interested in how people express hate towards public figures online, and why. This led him to investigate what is possibly the first ever case of cancellation online: the rage directed at the character Jar Jar Binks in the Star Wars prequel series which began releasing in 1999, and how that hate destroyed the mental health of and nearly ended the acting career of the young Black actor who voiced and helped develop the character. Marron is a deeply compassionate interviewer, and a good researcher. He finds and talks to fans who built “kill Jar Jar Binks” websites in the days of the early web, he interviews the actor, Ahmed Best, he interviews folks involved with the production on the Star Wars prequels. I am a lukewarm Star Wars fan at best (lol) but I loved this podcast. (This show has full transcripts).

WIND OF CHANGE- I picked up this 8 episode limited run podcast because it was researched, written and hosted by Patrick Radden Keefe, the author of Say Nothing, one of the best nonfiction books I’ve ever read. In this show, Keefe digs into rumors of the CIA using cultural productions, especially pop music, as propaganda weapons against the Soviet Union during the Cold War. In particular, he’s interested in one song, “Winds of Change”, by German rock group The Scorpions which became an anthem of change shortly before the fall of the Berlin Wall and then the end of the Soviet Union. Keefe is friends with someone who does a lot of recruiting of ex-CIA folks and has also written a whole book on the CIA, so he’s not without background or connections on this subject; but the question he most wants an answer to might not be one he can ever answer. This was gripping and intriguing, and made me think a lot about soft power and propaganda more generally. (This show has full transcripts).

[pe0ple3ater]

so im trawling nsfw!qsmp tumblr and just saw your tazer/craft/fit fic and a) loved it loved it loved it, fave ship + fantastic writing = 😍😍😍 and 2) i KNOW everyone loves blushing virgin!Fit (i do too) but the way he was so casual when mike showed up in your fic made me think: virgin!Fit who doesnt know the difference between kinky and vanilla. missionary? surprise threesome with your soulmate? all the same, how is Fit supposed to know whats 'normal' or not for sex when this is his first time ever? (this is sort of a prompt for you if u are inspired in any way but also i just wanted to share a thought 👍)

I can't think of a way to make this into a full drabble but I love this idea so much so have a rant.

Fit who's never really had much sex until he gets with Pac and Mike. The first time they have sex, it's so soft and sweet. Fit has Pac laid out on his back and he's fucking him in missionary and maybe Mike is lurking but he stays away so they can have their moment.

The next time they have sex, it's completely different. Mike's got Fit held down while he chokes on his dick until he's crying and Pac riding his face. Mike is being mean as fuck, edging Fit until he's one touch away from blowing his load and scolding him when he gets too distracted to eat Pac out properly.

Fit is shocked by the intensity switch, but he's never really had sex before so what does he know? Mike absolutely takes advantage of this fact, pulling out random shit to torture Fit with and broadening his kink horizons very quickly.

[bloggeridk]

I ain’t never seen no good writtin from mself. Good luck.

I apologize in advance, my dear tumblr users, i really am sorry. I’m at school right now can you believe it? Won’t tell you which grade i’m in, how old i am, note that i am not very good at writing, note that punctuation is LESS than desirable. Forgive me for how i write and what i’m writing.

Attack Titan(season 1) x You! (have fun?) Also i’ve never posted any story, i don’t really write smut (or at all) so please forgive me.

You just couldn’t stand it, here he was, 15 meters tall, too tall for any person to reasonably have a “crush” on, and here you were, 5’3. A height (which was totally average) way too small to be turned on by this whole 15 meters, sitting right on top of this huge titan, with his hand hold you like a doll, rubbing your crotch across his own, jerking his huge hips up into yours, bruising your legs, leaving your joints sore. This is fucked. This is so fucked up.

”Erennnn..! Please! Wake up..!” You’ve been calling out for at least 2 minutes, begging his body to gain consciousness again, panting out his name. The only reason this was happening is because you make some stupid comment about his titan being hotter than he was when he was a human, which in your defense, you were mostly joking. Mostly. So here you are now, pants rubbing into your clit, your whole body hot pressed against the bulge of his titan. The friction of your thick pants and the weight of his hand rubbing you up and down the length of his cock made the pain all worth it. His titan started to let out rough grunts with each pass of your limp supple body as he dragged you up and down. Your pussy was soaking through your pants, leaving wet streaks across his skin, that evaporated into steam from the temperature. His hips were beginning to thrust up into you, and every so often, a blue-ish vein on his titan cock would run up against your sweet spot, making your legs close in on his thick cock “Ren… please…” Another grunt and his dick twitched, his load shooting against his hot body, the thick milky white spunk almost reaching his fave from the force, his titan looks down at you and a toothy grin spreads across his face, his eyes squinting down at you.

His head fall back with a thump that rumbled the ground below him, his grip on your body loosened, holding you up against his now flaccid, sated cock. Steam rose from behind his neck, and there he was. Eren Jaeger, walking towards you with a small, wet, tent in his pants, that same smirk that his titan had. “Get me off.” Your voice was raspy, hips and thighs sore. “I can do that. If you take back what you said earlier.” His smirk gone, hands in his pocket right next to the body of his titan. No way, he does that and expects me to take back a statement after he cums all over his own titan. Baffling. “Sure. You rubbing me against a cock bigger than me makes me want to take it all back, your titan is definitely not hot. At all. You know what? I hated every moment. Now please get me down.” He smirks and turns away, using his hand to wipe his smile away, and climbs up the steamy body. He helps you unhook the fingers holding you and helps you up. Shit! Your legs are going limp so you sort of fall towards Eren, legs sore from being worked so hard. “…sorry…about your legs..” He hooks an arm under yours and lifts you up, helping you down the almost dissolved body. “Hey Ren?” He looks at you, turning his head to face you, “Hm”

“I’ve been wishing you could fuck me as a titan, and as a human. This whole time. I’m still soaked y’know. Down there.” He looks away, facing his cabin that the both of you were staying in for the week. “I know.” His smile back on his face.

Howdy! Sorry, this is the 2nd story i’ve ever posted, the only “completed” story that i’ve ever published. I’ve always thought Erens attack titan was hot, so i just wanted to see if i could write somethin nasty about him. If you’ve made it this far: THANK YOUUU ❤️ (sorry not good at smut)

[littlelasagne]

Hi! Just wanted to say that I binged BMO 3 weeks ago and I’m STILL having withdrawals. Every new levihan fic I start just pales in comparison, your writing has ruined me. Like absolutely nothing can fill this void. It’s become my favorite fanfic of all time, and it’s made me feel emotions I’d never thought I’d feel. Your take on certain tropes is just so, so refreshing. The pacing is perfect and satisfying and it’s everything I could ever want from a story. And the way you depict levi and hange is SO FAITHFUL. Their internal monologues, their banter, their personalities, everything is just so perfect and hilarious and I wanna thank you for giving me the best time ever. I just wanted to ask how you’re doing/how life has been! Also if there are any books/shows/fanfics that you’ve loved and wanna recommend :)

Hi hi hi, I don't think I've seen you before!! 👋🏼

Thank you so much for the message 🥲🥺 I don't know what to say but that I'm both stunned and happy you feel this way. Makes me feel gooey on the inside. I just can't believe that my own writing can resonate so strongly with others, but I'm so grateful that all the toil and heart I poured into it has paid off. 💚💜

The Levihan fandom is small and cosy, but we're so lucky that it's full of quality fics, all kinds of AUs, and the most talented writers and artists. I haven't read many new lh fics in the last year or so but some of my all time faves are:

City Comma State is my fave lh fic that I've been following since it started 😭 waiting for that update. 🥲

Onto Something by @someonestolemyshoes is my fave, plus everything else she writes is 👌🏼🌟🤩 beautiful top tier

Just_quintessentially_me also has some of my fave AU fics!

Encore by @autumndory made my laugh out loud and @dontatmethanks gifted me the sweetest florist/tattoo AU, Budding. 🌼

I think there's a massive levihan fic rec list floating around somewhere on tumblr with the fandom's favourites, if anyone sees it, please share!

Some of my fave books of the past few years are:

Tomorrow, Tomorrow and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin (I read this after publishing Paint and Progress and omg I wish I had read it first because this book is goals and inspired me in a million levihanny ways),

Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir,

A Little Life by Hanya Yanigihara (I met her this year omg I was starstruck),

and Brandon Sanderson's Stormlight Archive series.

I have loads more but don't want to make this a whole book rec essay 😅 My life changed dramatically a few months ago because I got a new job and moved away, so I'm exhausted and making a new life for myself, but I'm enjoying every moment even if it means I have tons of overtime work and zero energy for fanfic writing. I'm excited for the next stage in my editorial career 😊 Thanks so much for asking, I hope life's treating you well. 💜💚

[beansterpie]

B, D, J, L, T, U

Thanks for the ask moth!! <3

B - A pairing–platonic, romantic or sexual–that you initially didn’t consider, but someone changed your mind.

LMFAO Agohiru from ES21 😂 I remember when I first got into es21 back in highschool, Hiruma was my fav, but I didn't think much of Agon other than 'wow what an asshole!' and didn't like him. (Also I was a big Hirumamo shipper at the time, and I'm the type who clings onto One Ship for a character and isn't too interested in anything else lol) It wasn't until I got back into it in the last couple of years that I've come to appreciate how much fun it is to bat that asshole around, and just how loaded Hiruma and Agon's ~history~ is.

Though I guess no one person specifically changed my mind, unless you count past me vs present me lol. OH actually, what changed my mind was the fic "Independent Variable" on ff.net. I think I got back into es21 and was like 'you know, hiruma/agon totally has potential' and so was looking up fics of that pairing, and then I read that fic and was lost.

D - A pairing you wish you liked but just can’t.

Hmmmm oh, Merther (Merlin/Arthur) lol. Their set up as a ship is extremely juicy (two sides of the same coin?? fate ties them together??? conflict because their initial world views are diametrically opposed????) and there's soooo much fic for them, but. I just. I don't like Arthur 😭 Like, I mean, he's FINE. But the writing of the whole show is so inconsistent and there's entire seasons where he's just so shitty to Merlin for no damn reason in a way that I'm supposed to take as funny and silly which pisses me off more.

J - Name a fandom you didn’t think about until you saw it all over Tumblr. (You don’t have to care about it or follow it; it just has to be something that Tumblr made you aware of.)

I mean, most shows that have mainstream popularity that I never checked out lol, though I think one that I've seen a lot of shipping art for on my dash is Star Wars? I've seen the main movies, but I think this is from.... Clone Wars, or the Obi-wan show or something. I see a lot of Obi-wan shipped with... one of the clone guys I think lmfao.

L - Say something genuinely nice about a character who isn’t one of your faves.

Hmmmm this isn't even a character I dislike, but whatever-- Judeau! I like him a lot tbh but I also find him shady ��

I like how his 'friend who gives good advice and just has your best interests at heart' vibe is subverted by his personal biases and emotions, even if he'd probably deny that lol. He's flawed and it colors the advice he gives, and he even has moments that I'd argue are kind of judgy. It's what makes him interesting!

T - Do you have any hard and fast headcanons that you will die defending? 

Yes! Main one coming to mind rn because I've been thinking about Hiruma (ES21) a lot, is that Hiruma is on the ace spectrum! I'm usually pretty take-it-or-leave-it when it comes to sexuality headcanons, like I can buy most interpretations but I generally don't feel strongly about them, but with Hiruma I really struggle to see him as anything else.

U - Three favorite characters from three different fandoms, and why they’re your favorites.

OOHHHH. Well in Berserk, it's legit a tie between Guts and Griffith. I wouldn't like either one of them as much without the other in their orbit, and Berserk is one of those rare stories where both characters are really complex and compelling in their own way, and bring a lot of significant baggage into their dynamic lmfao. With Guts I love how sensitive he is, and the various ways in which he subverts and deconstructs the Macho Male Power Fantasy™ archetype, how at the end of the day he just wants someone to care about him and find worth in his existence. With Griffith, I love his ideals and his fragility in the face of the sacrifices those ideals demand from him, I love how much he cares and how much he gouges himself for caring, and how all of his stress and guilt and obligation still aren't any match for his love for Guts. And with both of them, I love how their upbringing informs their decisions so well to ruin everything even though they care about each other so much :')

w/ ES21, it's Hiruma lol which might be basic because he's everyone's fav, but for good reason! He's just fucking fun! I love how unhinged and demonic he is, I love the borderline slapstick loony-tunes tyle antics he gets up to, and I love his shamelessness. But I also love how accepting and realistic he is about his limitations, and how that doesn't stop him from striving for the top and going for what he wants. And like, for such an anime-level strategic genius type character, I love that such a core part of what makes him great is that he brings people together and uses teamwork and creativity to overcome everyone's various limitations. He's just-- so much fun!

And because this list is depressingly male lemme throw in a wild card-- Chase from Midnight Furies! It's a webcomic that I recently read for the first time, and Chase is the deuteragonist and a Hiruma expy lol. Which you can definitely tell, they both have the unhinged vibe and shark teeth, as well as the mysterious past and having a lot of cards up their sleeve, but I also think they're quite distinct. Obviously, Chase is a butch lesbian (which really does just add to her cool factor), but also I feel like Midnight Furies is a more grounded story compared to ES21, despite there being supernatural elements lol, and so Chase feels more grounded and realistic as a character. She's a bit more raw in her relationships to other people, and she shows vulnerability more, but she's also much more of a direct physical threat than Hiruma is. Because of that, she has moments where calculation gets thrown out the window in favor of a good ol' beat down, which of COURSE I love to see. And I think she has the capacity to be more ruthless. ANYWAY, awesome character, A+++ (please read Midnight Furies)

[alphabet ask meme]

[4th-make-quail]

Asks for a Fic Writer!

Tagged by @eemamminy-art and @nateharmonica thank you!!

--

1. how many works do you have on AO3? 138! Which is weird cos it feels like only 2 minutes ago I was excited about hitting 100 lol

2. what's your total AO3 word count? 401,149 total

3. what fandoms do you write for? My top 5 written for fandoms are FFXIV (27), Resident Evil (26), FFXII (15), inFamous (13) and FFXV (13)! But I have a load of others as well - atm it's Baldur's Gate 3, alternated with my perennial beloved FFXII

4. what are your top five fics by kudos? Point of No Return - Resident Evil, Chris/Wesker, time travel fix-it fic Aphrodisiac - Overwatch, Reaper/Soldier 76, collaring and gloves kink Like a Drug - Resident Evil, Chris/Wesker, STARS era drug bust Filters - FFXV, Prompto/Ignis, 5 things fic about Prompto's photo taking Between Death and Ascension - Magnus Archives, Jon/Gerry, post season 3 fix it that got immediately jossed upon s4 releasing lol. Honestly I'm amazed this one is here, considering Jon/Gerry is a bit of a rarepair. Or at least, it was back then!! I have no idea of the current state of TMA fandom (and don't wanna know, ugh lmao)

5. do you respond to comments? Always as a rule, but usually quite a long time after I get them lksgfg

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Has to be From the Flames of the Fire, I Feel You, part 4 of my Sartauvoir/Basch series, because it's the fic where Basch dies at the end, and it finishes off with a notice from Noah about the death and funeral arrangements. I cried on my lunch break at work writing this fucker lmao

8. do you get hate on fics? I've not had anything since my ffn days, where I got a very mean comment about OOC. I mean, it was true, but MAN.

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind? It's very rare that I don't write smut! I think the yuletide fic I wrote was the first time in years lol. Either way, I like to write kinky porn with feelings and character study shit

10. do you write crossovers? what's the craziest one you've written? Not any more, but the craziest crossover with the most specific-ass audience was a British Comedy RPF crossed with FFX, where David Mitchell is a summoner and Charlie Brooker and Robert Webb are his guardians. It's called Spira Infinita, and I never did end up finishing it lmao. Oops. Either way, I had a blast writing it and I still think it was fucking good, all 9 kudos of it!! God... this just made me remember I also wrote a brooker/mitchell crossover with mgs. I was on some shit back then I tell you what

11. have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I'm aware of! I'm not big enough for that, I think

12. have you ever had a fic translated? I thiiiink someone once asked me, but I forgot which fic it was tbh!

13. have you ever co-written a fic before? Yes!! I co-wrote one of my fave Ashe/Basch/Vossler fics with my friend when we got assigned each other for an ff_land exchange - Five Moments of Desire. It was really fun, we had a great time!

14. what's your all-time favourite ship? GOD this is hard!!! I think Nero/Credo tbh, I never get tired of thinking about them, even as sadly underrated as they are. Also Sartauvoir/Basch is highly up there, I've never been seized with such an insane streak of inspiration for a ship. They got me in their clutches and no mistake!!

15. what's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I don't actually have much in the way of wips, but I do have 5k of a Sart/Basch AU where Sart channels his fenex summoning to bring Basch back to life, but it stalled a little due to a combo of scheduling for other things, other ships taking over my brain for a bit, and honestly the general lack of fandom for them? I have a few close friends I met because of the ship, but getting such low response to things is really demoralising and makes it hard to continue. I DO want to finish it for sure, but atm I am too gripped by other ships so idk if it'll happen.

16. what are your writing strengths? I think dialogue for sure, and characterisation.

17. what are your writing weaknesses? Fight scenes x_x Which is annoying, because I love them and have a lot of sparring/fighting related kinks!!! I persevere, but I hate every moment of writing them lol

18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? Uhh nothing I've ever done! I think it'd be fine if you're fluent in that language OR if you have a trusted friend who is, who can give you actual sense-making sentences, but otherwise, do not!

19. first fandom you wrote for? Baby's first fandom was handwritten Redwall/Discworld crossover in reporter's notebooks as a very young child, but my first fandom-fandom was ffvii, where I wrote a frankly terrible Reno/Vincent fic! And idek why cos I don't ship it at all? I think I just had a boner for both of them and wanted to get it out. It is still on ffn alas, but eugh.

20. favourite fic you've written? Honestly I think it's my SartBasch series, Body Politics. It caters directly to my own id, and I think it's really good! I actually planned it out as a cohesive series AND actually finished writing it! Proud of myself lol. And I just.... *clenches fist* love those old men.....

----- tagging people, if u wanna do this, then consider urself tagged!!

[madame-vera]

Q&A - Build Your Own Story Week

This time on the writers discord server, the question of the day was set-up as a 5 part response over the week. The moderators spent the week asking us questions about our preferences, storytelling, characters writing and worldbuilding in the hopes it would give us a better understanding of our writing and maybe even give us some potential new WIPS to work on. Some days were simple, others were a bit more complicated or had multiple parts to it.

Instead of posting my responses separately I decided to compile them all here in one post. No messy searching for me XD. Enjoy!

what is your favorite (or least favorite) genre to write, and why? do most of your WIPs fall in the same genre?

I like hopeful fantasy, fix-its, what-ifs, supernatural/mythic fantasy, steampunk and slice-of life.

I like reading romance (but am very fussy) but don't like writing it. Definitely not a fan of crime/horror.

I guess I don't like the dreary, but I do like questionable endings, non-perfect endings, vague endings (so long as the story itself is solid enough). I mean, one my fave stories sever is Harmony by Project ITOH. I also the 'for-want-of-a-nail' trope so the speculative what if this did(n't) happen stories or plots where things line up just so are great.

Most of my WIPS are what ifs, fix-its or continuations. they tend to have a funny/serious or happy/peaceful tone.

if you were to take two of your favorite plot devices and one of your least favorite, what sort of plot could you make from that? (within the bounds of what you’re willing to write!)

Two plot devices I like are non-perfect happy endings that came with some sort of change/loss and for-want-of-a-nail, what-if type situations. Or maybe fond family. That's good stuff.

One I don't like but could maybe possibly write is love triangles or typical hero object quest things.

One I don't like and definitely could not write is those goddamn annoying misunderstandings that could be easily avoided if the characters just stopped, took a breath, and waited for just one damn moment.

Worldbuilding Questions

Does your world have magic? How is it used?

What historical era does it take place in? (OR, if it's your own fantasy world, what important events have happened before this point?)

Is there running water?

What does the difference between the classes look like? (Is there significant class division?)

freebie! pick a random element that you'd like to include and consider how that informs the rest of your world! (for example, the existence of ghosts!)

Magic

I'm undecided on whether or not I have magic. Probably not. But if I do go with it it'll be used in conjunction with science so they'll support each other.

Historical Era

Some undecided millennium after a global apocalypse in a fantasy world. I.E era. There's been loads of technological advancements so i guess it's semi-modern?

Running Water

Some places yes, other places no. Haven't worked out the technology of it yet.

Classism

There are class differences, to varying degrees. There are a lot of displaced people and new nations thanks to the societal and ecological changes from the apocalypse so people are still kind working it out. Some have managed something close to equality or democracy, some haven't.

Quirks

I'll have to pick a few faves, I think.

The Apocalypse: It wasn't anything grizzly like a meteor or disease or something. It's just that there was a difference in space causing the planet to be exposed to a greater degree of light and heat. That fractional amount was just enough to completely through the ecosystem out of wack, which then messes with society.

Leyakist/Manteia: Really cool continents. Solarpunk meets afrofutirism meets fantasy. The continents themselves are made not of your typical land, but one really freaking huge lotus pad shaped fungis. It's one fungi but it has to pad growths so there are two continents. The people can travel to each other through the deep sea stems. No one knows about this. The continents are also completely isolated from the rest of the world because the fungi messes with the wind and ocean patterns.

MaiRycia: A ginormous bow shaped continent often thought of as two because the centre area is under the control of two allied nations. The lower nation is willfully isolated so no one can go through them. Instead they have to go through the top nation which is super wealthy because of all the trade. The right of MaiRycia is entirely a religious empire and the left is a bunch of indivual nations of various governances. People like the centre being cut off for this reason.

Aurora River: The planet has rings that change colours seasonally (which actually makes it a useful annual calander). The shadow it casts is called the Aurora River and is a common travel route.

Kalreem: A continent full of lakes and fault line hotsprings. The aesthetic is a mix of Venice, SE Asia and art nouveau.

Wicklser: Gourd shaped continent with mountains, lakes, rivers and waterfalls. Split by a river that runs along it's length that has a ginormous boat train running on it. The train is also a nation with underground cities.

Belryde: Almost always winter here. Shaped like a penguin.

Main Cast Questions

first and foremost, do you have multiple POVs, or only one? are you writing this in 1st, 2nd, or 3rd?

next, think a little bit about your story so far… what kind of role would your main characters have in this world? do the main events happen to them, or do they go out and seek change?

and, perhaps most importantly… what are some flaws you might give them?

I usually focus on just one characters POV, but sometimes I'll do 2 or even 3 if I'm feeling particularly brave.

I almost always write in 3rd person.

Right now I just have a world, but the stories would probably be on a smaller scale, people living their lives, going through relationships, exploring the world around them, going on their own adventures. The worlds events would affect them but wouldn't be the focus.

Flaws are tricky, depends which characters and story I choose.

so far, we’ve looked at genre, plot, worldbuilding, and most recently, our main cast! now that we have some main foundations, we’re going to look at something a bit more nuanced… antagonists. depending on your story, this role could be fulfilled by a lot of people or things. it might be nature itself, the MC’s flaws, or an external “villain.” so! who’s the villain of this story?

Antagonists! oh no……um……….

This one's difficult to answer since I don't have a set story and only a handful of OCs. I'm still focused on setting up the foundations of the setting. As such I'll answer this in three parts: ideas for my OCs, ideas for planned fanfic wips and the sorts of antagonists i find i tend to like or write.

First things first, the OCs.

Lale, Silvaiarin and Silvaiarins sister (really need a name for her) are all from the same story. Their story is a complicated one so I'll focus on their individual antagonists. For Silvaiarin and his sister their antagonists are their conflicting desires and the people/politics at home. Silvaiarin wants to leave to marry Lale. His sister wants to be the next ruler. But traditions are getting in the way of their goals so they have to not only defy tradition but break it and remake it anew entirely. Lale has to face the uncertainty of Vaias' family when gaining their approval and Vaias' own personal issues. Worse, they're all preparing for a massive war, so the opposing leaders are also major antagonists.

Verita is survivor of a conflict zone, human trafficking and institutional/systemic violence. Her story is about her surviving it, growing through it and taking her place in the world. Her antagonists are the powers that be, the ignorance and prejudice of the common people, the systemic abuse and discrimination and most horribly, herself. No one comes out of that in one piece. She puts herself through the wringer trying to make it out as mentally intact as possible, then she must learn to heal, even if it means discarding the methods that kept her safe and sane in the first place. Her choices themselves are the antagonists.

Myras' story is about her achieving her dream of becoming a prosthetist. I'm not sure what that would make her antagonist? Her lacking skills? A character flaw? Maybe I could make contradicting goals or values. I'm really not sure yet 😅

Next are the antagonists in my favourite fanfic wips and ideas.

The one I'm most looking forward to is a modern au MDZS one where Jiang Yanli leaves her household with her siblings to live in a safe home instead. It's about her no longer just surviving, but living. The antagonists are her parents, conflicting internal goals and values (in particular the importance she places on her siblings and her role as the one who raised them, and her needing to learn to live as herself rather than only perceiving herself through her role as a caregiver), the issues her siblings are dealing with, conflicting wants/needs & values/goals.

Another MDZS fic, I'm going to have Madam Jin overthrow her husband and take over the Lanling Jin Sect by allying herself with his victims, especially his bastards and their mothers. Her antagonists will be her husband, much of the Jin Sect, the cultivations worlds traditional values and her own traditional values and prejudices.

There are a couple of Pet Shop of Horrors fanfics where Leon tries to find D. I'm not sure what this makes the antagonist. Their relationship issues? Communication issues? Distance?

There are others but those are the ones I know best off the top of my head.

Lastly, antagonist types I tend to write or favour.

When it comes to antagonist characters I definitely prefer some flavour, an interesting motive, complicated relationships, depths. Characters that aren't cookie cutter baddy of the day types.

Concept type antagonists are fun when they involve the internal conflicts and growth of the characters, like the conflict between needs and wants or goals and values. The sorts that come with difficult non-perfect choices, especially if there's not clear cut right or wrong and the consequences aren't ideal but work well. You win some you lose some, that sort of thing. Societal/Cultural based conflicts, especially those that provoke thoughts of 'what if' are also fun but I tend to prefer reading them to writing them.

[kingkatsuki]

Were you always a good writer? I've been writing for a few years since I was 14 to escape the ✨trauma✨ I dove head first into reading at 12 and started writing shortly after but I feel like in 5 years (I'm 19 now) my writing still isn't that great. I post on Tumblr and AO3 but then I see the writing of others and start to think, I really have no talent for this. How did you get to be such a good writer? Someone who can understand the characters well, who can from realistic dialogue. This is my hobby so I love doing it, but it's kind of shitty, y'know not really being good at your hobby.

It’s super kind you think my writing is good🥺 but first off all, I think we’re our own worst critics. Even now I’ve been writing for years and I still don’t like or enjoy my writing, I can’t sit down and read something I’ve created because it just makes me cringe and even though I can appreciate things I like about my writing now I’m not sure I’ll ever truly have the confidence some people do in their own.

I think when you’re surrounded by so many talented, incredible writers it can make you feel inferior. Especially when you fall in love with someone’s writing style? I used to wish so badly I could write like some of my friends, who seemed to just make these gorgeous multi-chap fics run so smoothly and poetically and it used to make me feel so inferior. Cause my writing is so basic you know? Like when those “SHOW DON’T TELL” posts go around I’m like ffs not again🙄because I always feel like they’re a direct attack on me😂

My old TWD, Z Nation, Naruto stuff is still up on here and it’s honestly awful. So much worse than my writing for this fandom. I think even when you look at my first BNHA fic to now I’ve come a long way, and I think maybe it’s partly due to amazing friends I’ve made here that have helped me hone my writing a lot. Whether it’s just giving me ideas I’m actually excited to write, tips and tricks or just lovely feedback I think it’s helped.

Dialogue is probably my fave thing to write because you can have so much fun with it, I’ve got loads of docs where I literally just have lines of dialogue or back and forth between characters because I don’t know what I wanna do with it but I’ll come back to it at some point and form a fic around it😅

This was so unnecessarily rambly, but what I’m trying to say is don’t let yourself think you’re shit at writing, because I promise you’re not. Seriously the most important thing is you’re enjoying it, it makes you happy and it helps you through those shitty moments in life.💕

[eloves-writes]

Don't know if this is a dumb idea, feel free to ignore it if this isn't the type of thing you write

The reader and Spencer are married and both work at the BAU and they have a 4 year old son. And unfortunately their sitter canceled so they had to bring him at the office, which was possible cause it was paper work day

a/n : not dumb at all! this is super cute, i’m personally not great with kids so this might not be my best writing ever but i really hope you still enjoy! i used the season 7 team bc they’re my personal faves but i’d imagine it as more season 14/15 spencer :)

baby genius at work

——————————

stupid job. stupid criminals committing crimes on a sunday evening. stupid police in tampa needing the bau’s help on said sunday evening when they definitely could solve it themselves. at least you didn’t have to go to florida, they just needed an over-the-phone consult but still- it was generally inconvenient to get called into work with no notice and a 4 year old at home. you could get some paperwork done before monday though, if that was a plus.

“spence?” you called from the kitchen, quickly trying to pack your son’s overnight bag. you hoped that a sitter would pull through and he could stay the night somewhere that wasn’t your office- a specialist unit for profiling serial killers, rapists, and pedophiles wasn’t an ideal babysitters club. “did the sitter call you back?”

your husband entered the room followed by your son, theo. they were both smiling mischievously like they’d been doing something you’d disapprove of in the next room. they probably were.

“yeah,” spencer said, running a hand through his overgrown, messy hair. “can’t make it, too late notice.”

theo ran around your feet with far too much energy for a small boy at 8pm, his hair just as messy and unkempt as his father’s. you sighed irritably, throwing the dinosaur backpack over your shoulder along with your own work bag.

“did you try jj? maybe will could watch theo, he’d love to see henry and micheal.” you ruffled the boy’s hair as he jumped up and down, trying to calm him.

“will’s on duty, they have a sitter.”

“crap. i mean, shoot. erm, we’ll just have to take him to work,” you sighed, searching the kitchen counter for your phone you’d somehow misplaced in the last 15 minutes.

“what?” spencer exclaimed nervously. “we can’t take our son to work, he’s four! what about all the files? what about-”

“i’m going to work with mommy and daddy!” theo shouted happily. you gave your husband an amused but sympathetic look. his eyes told you he’d given in.

“garcia can watch him. she never does any work anyway and he’ll fall asleep in an hour, it’s fine- we just need to get going or we’ll be even later than we already are.” before you could even comment on the still-missing phone, you saw theo was playing with it and took it back before loading him into the car with his overnight back and blanket; you had no idea if you’d be back home tonight.

soon enough you made it to quantico, and despite all hopes looking good that your son had fallen asleep, his sixth sense of impending excitement woke him up as you pulled in to the parking lot. spencer held his hand to walk him inside and you handled the bags. garcia was walking along the corridor as the elevator reached the bau floor and squealed at the sight of your son.

“oh my goodness! it’s the baby genius! to what do i owe this pleasure?” she smiled, theo running into her arms. you heard a faint “auntie penelope!”- garcia absolutely adored all the team’s children to the ends of the earth and back.

“can i babysit? can i watch him? please, because you're my favourite genius lovebirds in the whole world?” garcia asked excitedly, wrapping her arms around him. you laughed and nodded.

“he is all yours, pen. let me know if he starts getting tired,” you changed you focus to theo. “behave yourself for auntie penelope.”

she smiled happily, leading him towards the bat cave to let you and spencer focus on the case. theo liked the bat cave, all penelope’s little things on her desk and all the screens and things to play with. he was unlike his father in that way; spencer didn't like computers and avoided the sort of well-meaning chaos of garcia’s desk, but theo was like him in other ways- he adored reading, and had sounded like a walking thesaurus since the day he learned to speak. the funniness he obviously got from you, but the hair was unquestionably inherited from your husband too. spencer placed his hand on the small of your back and guided you into the bullpen to your desk where emily gave you a friendly smile and carried on with her paperwork; you could tell it was really not an exhilarating case because everyone looked tired. you suspected they’d cheer up if they knew theo was here, but you wanted to get some actual work done before they all wanted to be his favourite aunt or uncle.

you did all get a few reports finished and a short consult on the case before garcia came back into the bullpen with a sleepy theo about an hour later, the team all turning their heads and suddenly looking less tired and bored.

“you didn’t tell us baby genius was joining the team tonight!” jj said, getting up from her desk to hug him. she was closely followed by emily and morgan, the latter of which was convinced he was the superior god-parent to jj. garcia was still mad you didn’t choose her, but she definitely loved him just as much.

spencer stood beside you and placed his hand on your waist, the way he always liked to stand. “we weren’t planning on it,” you yawned. “sitter cancelled.”

“i’m wayyy more fun than a sitter,” garcia promised. you were quite sure she was.

the team all stood around fussing over theo, who was more than happy with the attention but looked like he’d fall asleep the moment it stopped. you took a second to appreciate the way the team loved your’s and spencer’s son; the job took absolutely everything out of them except their endless love for each other and their families. it showed you the ugliest people with the ugliest lives, but they still chose to prioritise the purity and innocence of a child. they had so, so much love to give and wisdom to share- when you and spencer decided to bring a baby into the world, you knew they would be raised by the best family that could be. every member of the team was part of that family, just the way you wanted it to be forever and ever.

[use-your-telescope]

Eeeeep! Reactions to your thoughts beneath the cut:

Chris… look, he isn’t like, a monster, but we all know he isn’t endgame! It’s not his best moment for sure, but trauma and shock can make people react in strange ways (especially when they’re not used to such situations!)

“How much is real and how much is made up?”< — my fave thing about writing dreams! Research tells us that dreams aren’t overtly factual but can pull from past experience and core fears to tell us more. And yes, I will admit I am *totally* leaning into that 👀👀

Loki caring for her - I’m a self-admitted hoe for this. Maybe it’s me being an enneagram 2(w3) or a cancer sun sign, but to me caretaking is such a true indicator of the strength of a relationship (friend, family, or romantic) - seeing someone at their most vulnerable and committing to helping them through requires so much trust and commitment!

I think Loki is nervous about it because he’s so used to charming people who are already amiable or who want something from him/he wants something from them, so to be in a situation where he does not have ulterior motives is unfamiliar to him.

Do not fret though, because the next chapter has loads of comfort and is going to be set to a LIGHTS bop (iirc a lights tune is what caught your atthetion), “Easy Money”

“I wanna know baby, would you count on me? … ‘cause I’d bet on you, baby that’s easy money”

P.s. I love incoherent rants in the event you want to share more ramblings about the chapter 😂🤣😅

When Everything's Made to be Broken - Chapter 18: You Were in the Darkness, Too

Summary: The aftermath of the attack on the Metropolitan Museum of Art. 

Author’s Note: So… I meant to post a chapter two days ago, then Sunday morning I woke up and was like “nope I need to re-do some of this because I think it’ll be better if a certain event happens ‘on screen,’ so to speak.” Long story short, two days later, here we are! I feel like Oprah - “you get world building, you get back story reveal, you get plot progression, you get super self-indulgent hurt-comfort (maybe a bit more hurt in this chapter, but have no fear there is LOADS more comfort where this came from)!” 

Another random note - back when I started posting snippets on the beloved hellsite, this song initially was set with an entirely different chapter. Then I concluded it worked much better here. So if you have been around for long enough that you’re like “hold up a minute!” when you see the song and what happens here, that’s why. Tbh, I think most of the songs that were paired up with chapters have changed since I initially posted snippets. That’s the beauty of drafts, I guess? Anyways, thanks for your patience, and hope you enjoy <3 reblogs are always appreciated, and lmk if you want to be added to the tag list!

Contents: Descriptions of vomiting, in relation to describing a migraine. Nightmares. Tears. Loki being the actual MVP. 

Word Count: 5,913

Read on AO3 | When Everything's Made to be Broken Masterlist

Song: Cosmic Love - Florence + The Machine

A falling star fell from your heart And landed in my eyes I screamed aloud as it tore through them And now it’s left me blind

Some types of pain could be relieved with medicine.

Others… not so much.

From the moment Theo found Chris outside of the Met, standing amidst the crowd of attendees in a makeshift triage area that had been set up by blocking off 5th Avenue, she could sense a difference in the way he looked at her. He didn’t rush towards her; instead, he approached slowly, scanning over her appearance with wide eyes and the color actively draining from his face. When they met in the middle, Chris reached out as if he wanted to embrace Theo, but he froze with hands hovering inches away from her body, as if he was afraid to touch her.  

Even as Theo promised she was fine and that Chris shouldn’t worry – even as she checked him over, asking if he was okay, the short, half-hearted answers and the cold, wary look in his eyes didn’t diminish; instead of embracing her, he lowered his arms and stepped back, putting even more distance between them. 

He looked at her the same way the council looked at her: as an abomination, a curse. 

The exchange, however, was cut short - one of the medics employed by Stark to work with the Avengers spotted Theo and rushed over to request her help treating some of the most critical patients, who otherwise would not survive transport to the nearest hospital. 

So, Theo pushed the raw ache that settled in her chest to the back of her mind, ignored the churning of her stomach and the pounding in her skull, and set about treating the worst of the injuries, even if it meant she would blow past her limits and pay the price later on. There was a physical cost to using magic, and with healing that cost was much higher - particularly when the scope of healing required was practically bringing someone back from the dead. 

However, between someone dying or inducing a migraine from overexertion of magic, Theo would choose the migraine every time. At least when she healed, some good could come from her magic. Did it make her suffer? Yes, but she probably deserved it after everything.

And boy, she was suffering.

By the time she left, the only people who remained beyond the emergency response crews were paparazzi, lurking around the perimeter like predators stalking prey as they attempted to capture glimpses of the aftermath. They pounced at the sight of Theo, bloodied and drained after what was meant to be a celebratory occasion turned to a nightmare. Each burst of flash felt like an icepick to her skull and left her wishing she had enough energy to teleport herself home. Theo lifted one hand in a futile attempt to block some of the light, only for the shouting of the photographers to ricochet through her eardrums and into her skull. 

How Theo survived the ride back to the tower without throwing up from motion sickness, she wasn’t sure. By some miracle she made it back to her suite, only to make it a few steps inside the door before the nausea and sensitivity to light and sound made her beeline for the bathroom, scolding herself for her earlier recklessness as she dove for the toilet and prepared to empty the contents of her stomach. 

Over the sound of her retching, Theo didn’t hear her phone ring. Because her head was buried in the porcelain bowl of the toilet, she didn’t see the screen light up with Chris’s name. 

As the nausea faded, Theo remained firmly in place, bent over the toilet bowl with both arms stretched across the top of the toilet seat. Once she knew she wasn’t going to be sick, Theo carefully eased herself down to lay on the floor, having spent the last of her energy throwing up. 

Laying in her bed would have been more pleasant, but the thought of moving sent waves of churning heat through Theo’s stomach and made her entire body ache. Besides, the cool tile felt great against her uncomfortably warm skin and it was tolerable enough for her to pass out without even realizing she’d done so.

It was the vibration of Theo’s phone rattling on the floor that dragged her back to the world of the living, only to find she somehow felt even worse than when she passed out earlier. In her half-asleep stupor, Theo clumsily grabbed the phone from where she had tossed it as an afterthought. A wince snuck out as the light of the screen stabbed through Theo’s head; she squinted, trying to make sense of the contents on the screen.

The culprit was a text from Wanda, stating “you okay??”  and then including what looked like a link. But Theo didn’t open the text right away - a different notification on her lock screen caught her eye. A voicemail from Chris, from right around the time Theo got back to the tower, elicited a sense of foreboding dread from Theo that she couldn’t ignore.

With shaking fingers, Theo unlocked her phone and went to her voicemail. She selected the message, relying on the speech to text feature to read the contents of the message instead of listening.

“Hey, it’s Chris. I’d been hoping you would answer, but I guess it is what it is. Look, I’ve been thinking - I don’t think we should see each other anymore. I know it’s cliché, but I mean it when I say it’s not you - it’s me.”

Even if Theo knew it was coming, reading the words still made her sick to her stomach. 

“I know that you’ll always have to put your work as an Avenger first - I’ve always known that. I wouldn’t ask you to try and choose between being an Avenger and our relationship. But tonight, I saw you fighting, and I realized what it really means to date an Avenger, and– it’s too much. I can’t do it. If there’s stuff you left at my apartment, I’ll send it back to you. I’m sorry, Theo. Take care.”

Theo barely finished reading the transcription before bile clawed up from her stomach. She gagged, scrambling to her knees and barely managing to get into position before she threw up, this time expelling nothing but stomach acid in the process. 

Between the cramping of her abdominal muscles, the burning in her throat, the pounding in her skull, the uncomfortable heat of her skin, and the aches radiating from her bones, Theo was miserable enough. The voicemail, however - that was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

A gasp escaped from Theo before she could stop it, then a whimper. Her eyes were leaking - no, water poured from them. She tried to cover her face with her hands as a whine escaped her throat, but she couldn’t stop the sobs that shook her entire body. Moving was painful - crying was painful - but the ache inside of her was far worse than any physical discomfort.

She should have known it would end like this. This was always what happened when people got to know her - they realized she was no good, and then they abandoned her. Thinking this time would be any different was stupid. Even if she told herself that whatever she had with Chris was nothing serious, it didn’t make the fact that he saw her for the curse she was, and he left.

They always leave.

And the worst part? Theo wasn’t angry at Chris for leaving. As much as she hated when the council looked at her like the curse she was, she could understand why. Her family deserved better. The Aneterrans deserved better. They all deserved better than her. 

Chris didn’t know the extent of the bullet he dodged, but he knew enough to make the smart decision and leave before he got hurt.  

By the time the tears stopped, Theo felt like a mess through and through. She didn’t even want to think about what she looked like - eyes swollen, hair tangled, makeup smudged, her skin still sticky with dried blood, and her armor torn from fighting. 

She needed a shower, and then a real bed.

As tempting as it was to lay back down on the floor and continue to wallow, the desire to feel less disgusting won out. 

Theo sat on the floor as she peeled the layers of armor off her body, only standing when she absolutely had to in order to remove her pants. The addition of vertigo meant that she spent most of the short time beneath the spray of cool water leaning against a wall, eventually sliding down to sit on the shower floor when her legs grew too tired to support her weight. 

The process of drying and dressing in pajamas required multiple pauses - one to be sick again, the others a result of aching limbs and muscles trembling from prolonged exertion. It took a herculean effort, but Theo finally made it to her bed, falling asleep before she even had a chance to pull the covers over herself.

The stars, the moon, They have all been blown out You left me in the dark No dawn, no day, I’m always in this twilight In the shadow of your heart

Once a bustling metropolis, Meridia had been known for its opulence and innovation. The streets were packed with vendors peddling their latest inventions and entertainers attempting to woo the staff of the royal court in hopes of securing an audience with the king and queen. 

That Meridia was no more.

Theo stood in the center of a barren flagstone street, blanketed in the dark of a new moon. Broken glass clung to the window frames of weathered stone buildings long-abandoned, just one trace of the city’s descent into madness. Adjusting her mask, Theo pressed forward, relying on muscle memory to carry her into the underbelly of the city she once called home. 

Theo used to sneak onto those very streets with her cousins, placing bets on which performers would successfully charm whoever was tasked with the day’s errands. Sneaking amongst the city was how Theo first learned her governess had a crush with the Apothecary’s son, always traveling to him whenever she needed some sort of potion or supplies for Theo’s lessons. Theo also once caught Ravenna performing to a crowd while in disguise, though Theo immediately recognized her sister and used the knowledge as blackmail. If she listened close enough, she could hear faint traces of musicians’ voices in the wind.

A chill wracked her body. 

Throughout the streets, navy fog shimmered, emitting an iridescent glow as it weaved in and out of the alleys around her. When she left, this neighborhood had yet to be tainted by the arcane fog that had come to be known as the haze.  An orange glow and billowing smoke in the distance highlighted the silhouette of a broken skyline.

Even after all these years, the ruins had yet to stop burning.

The city was but a shadow of what it once was.

This was no longer the Meridia that Theo remembered, much less the Aneterra that Theo hoped to one day return to. 

Instinct led her down alleys and side streets, through what once were lush court gardens bursting with exotic blooms as she reached the rear of her destination. Dead vines of Ivy still clung to once-pristine stone walls; cracks in the weathered glass window panes only hinted at what Theo might find inside. Careful to avoid drawing attention to herself, Theo lurked in the shadows as she made her way round to the front of a building she once knew in and out, the place that she reminisced about on cold nights when the winds of winter rattled her windows as a girl in Michigan. 

Somehow, the front door - crafted of thick lumber and held together with intricate metalwork that reflected the status of the home’s former residents - hadn’t been destroyed in the massacre. 

Theo started to push the door open, but stopped short. She hadn’t been there since the night of the massacre, when she thought she lost everything. Even if Fury was right - even if Theo’s parents and sister were alive - they weren’t the only people Theo lost that night. The possibility that Theo might discover their remains just beyond the door was one she had to be ready to face.

Theo drew in a deep breath, steeled herself, and pushed the door open.

The creaking of worn hinges echoed through what once had been a grand foyer. A thick layer of dust coated the overturned furniture and picture frames along the walls, askew from the chaos of the massacre.

Theo’s boots clicked along the marble floor, each cautious step percolating through the air. The further she ventured into the room, the stronger the sense became that she was not alone.

Before her, a grand staircase curved up to the second floor, drawing the eye towards the massive windows which previously made the foyer feel particularly grand. In the dark, however, Theo couldn’t even tell if the glass remained in place, or if fighting had destroyed those windows too. 

Without consciously thinking about it, Theo crept towards the stairs and began to climb. Halfway up the stairs, Theo swore she saw a silhouette amongst the shadows cast by the window frame. Curiosity spurred her forward, past the top of the stairs.

Someone stood just in front of the window, looking out onto the ruins with their back towards Theo. They wore a black cloak, its cape brushing against the stone floor as it obscured the individual’s identity. 

As Theo drew near, they made no effort to look back and see who was there; as far as Theo could tell, they didn’t even seem to recognize she was there. With only a few feet between them, Theo opened her mouth and took a deep breath, ready to speak–

“...So…” The figure turned around, hands adorned with runes reaching out from beneath the cloak to lower the hood and reveal themselves to Theo. “... You are alive.”

Theo knew that voice like she knew her own name.

Ravenna stood before Theo, piercing lavender eyes filled with ice as she regarded her younger sister. Inky black hair tumbled over her shoulder, stopping just below her chest. Despite the lack of light, her skin cast a soft glow.

“Rae—“ Theo took a jarring step forward, only for her sister to step back.

“After all this time, you wander back here.” A bitter laugh escaped the elder sister. “What, are you here to save the day? We needed that years ago.”

“No, Rae–” Theo tried, “I had no idea—“

“No idea – what, we would still be here? Still fighting?” Ravenna spat, taking another step back. “Of course you wouldn’t - you brought this on us, why would you bother to try and fix it?”

She was the curse.

“No, Rae, please–” Theo extended a hand to her sister, desperate to plead her case. “I’m trying to get back so I can help–”

And in the dark  I can feel your heartbeat I tried to find the sound But then it stopped And I was in the darkness So darkness I became

Theo awoke with a jolt, drenched in sweat and gasping for air. The sudden movement sent a wave of aches rolling through her limbs while her pounding heart throbbed between her temples.

Dreams of Aneterra were nothing new, but the nightmare was different from anything she had seen before. This wasn’t seeing the world from someone else’s perspective, or watching like a third party; it was as if she had actually been there.

It was just a nightmare. It was just a nightmare - she had experienced plenty of them before. It didn’t take a witch to know that this wasn’t a premonition or a vision - this was a manifestation of her worst fears. There was no reason to give this particular nightmare any merit - her anxieties were unfounded, at least according to Memere.

But this one felt particularly vivid, and it was hard to shake.

Just the thought of her sister’s anger brought another round of overwhelming nausea. Throwing off the covers, Theo nearly tripped over herself as she bolted for the bathroom. She shoved the door open and stumbled inside, wincing at the crash of the door handle slamming against the wall. Collapsing to the bathroom floor, she barely managed to get her head over the toilet before throwing up. 

Despite the minuscule amount of bile, she continued to retch and gag for a couple minutes; it was as though her body was convinced something else was still in there, even though there was absolutely no way in hell that Theo hadn’t already emptied her stomach many times over. 

Completely spent, Theo closed her eyes and slumped against the toilet, temple pressing against the cool porcelain of the tank. Even without her eyes open, the ground beneath her tilted and swayed like she was on a boat during stormy seas.

God, she was a mess.

“Are you alright?”

Theo’s head snapped up towards the voice, only for her to wrench her eyes shut and groan as a fresh round of misery bashed in her skull. When the worst of it passed, Theo cracked her eyes open, blearily peering up through the dark to find Loki standing in her bathroom, staring at her as if she was a ghost.

“What’re you doing here?” The question slipped out, her exhaustion and malaise resulting in a far too blunt delivery.

“I had been on my way to the sitting room when I heard crashing come from inside your quarters; when you did not respond to my knocking, I grew worried and came inside…”

It took a moment for Theo to register what Loki had said, but when it finally clicked, she burst into uncontrollable tears. 

I took the stars from my eyes And then I made a map And knew that somehow I could find my way back Then I heard your heart beating You were in the darkness too So I stayed in the darkness with you…

Of all the things Loki expected in life, attempting to console a truly distraught Theo at three in the morning while sitting on her bathroom floor was nowhere among them.

And yet, that was exactly where he found himself - cross-legged on the marble tile as he cradled Theo in his lap, her face buried in his chest as she wept with such vigor that her entire body shook. 

Loki replayed the series of events that led to his present position. 

Like many nights, it began because of his inability to sleep. What was rare, however, was that his insomnia was not the result of some night terror, some monster that left his mind running in circles as if it were a dog chasing its tail. 

No, he had been quite content when he settled into his bed, his well-worn copy of The Eye of the World in hand for some light reading. Yet, instead of dozing off to thoughts of Moiraine Damodred and her search for the Dragon Reborn, his mind wandered back to the attack on the Met Gala.

Theo had been the only one to successfully defeat one of the mystery beings that had been discovered, revealing an ability to control the shadow creatures that continued to antagonize Midgard. The carnage left behind, however, indicated that the being proved to be quite a challenge - beyond the mess in the gallery, Theo walked away from the exchange with no shortage of wounds that would require a healer to address.

Still, she hadn’t returned to the tower with the other Avengers. Instead, she insisted on ensuring her beloved actor was safe and seeing if any victims needed care - all the while acting as if she herself was not actively bleeding from multiple parts of her body.

Selfless, stubborn creature.

From there, his mind shifted to the being who had wrought such havoc. In the immediate aftermath of the attack, there had not been much opportunity to examine the corpse before it was whisked away by SHIELD agents for further study; what he had been able to discern remained fairly generic. Humanoid in form, though the shriveled appearance of their flesh gave the impression of some type of undead creature. Spider-like black veins stretched beneath their skin, as if they had been poisoned or cursed in some manner.

Yet, he hadn’t seen anything quite like it.

At that point, Loki accepted his fate: he was nowhere near sleeping. 

With that in mind, he scoured his book shelves for one of the tomes he rescued from Asgard during Ragnarok - one that he referenced from time to time, usually when SHIELD requested his insight regarding creatures that Midgard had never seen before. Leatherbound book in hand, Loki began the familiar venture to the sitting room for a sleepless night of research.

Until heavy, syncopated footsteps and a muffled crash from the next room over stopped Loki dead in his tracks.

A heavy thud, as if multiple heavy objects had been dropped simultaneously, followed. The sound came from within Theo’s quarters - a realization which only brought an increased pulse and a festering sense of dread.

Loki approached her door, rapping his knuckles on the dark wood. “Theo?”

He pressed his ear to the door, listening for any signs of movement. If he strained, he thought he heard some sound - coughing, maybe? - but nothing indicating movement.

A twist of the doorknob indicated that it had not been locked. Before he fully thought the decision through, Loki pressed the door open. He slipped inside, carefully navigating the pitch black as he began to search for Theo. 

Though Theo’s space was never perfectly clean, the sitting room appeared as if nothing had been knocked over or disturbed. The sense of urgency grew as he explored further, knowing that such a racket followed by such silence never had benign origins. 

A painful-sounding retch came from the direction of Theo’s bathroom, followed by a groan.

Loki strode towards the sound, careful to remain quiet in case something foul was afoot.

He rounded the corner to find the bathroom door wide open, revealing Theo hunched over the basin of the toilet as if she had just been sick to her stomach. 

The pieces fell into place - he must have heard her running to the restroom and throwing the door open.

When she finished, she slumped down a bit, eyes closed as she laid her head along the seat, breathing as if she had finished a grueling training routine. 

Though Theo had clearly showered since her return, she somehow appeared even worse for wear than the last time Loki saw her. Her complexion rivaled that of a ghost. Her eyes, though closed, appeared red and swollen, lashes glistening despite the darkness. Wrinkled pajamas twisted around her body in a rather unnatural fashion; combined with an absolutely disheveled braid, Loki guessed she’d been tossing and turning in her sleep.

Loki stood there for a moment, completely dumbfounded. Should he say something? What would he say? After waiting this long, would it scare her? Would saying something make things worse? If he didn’t say something, would she think he was a creep? Should he just leave?

At one point, he stopped himself and nearly laughed. He was Loki, of Asgard. How a Midgardian would react to him should not have been of concern. 

However, this was no ordinary Midgardian.

He drew in a deep breath.

“Are you alright?”

The way Theo’s head shot up confirmed she had no clue he was there, or at least he had startled her. A brief moment of horror flashed across her face, only for a grimace to take hold as she clutched her head and groaned.

Loki cursed himself for startling her with such a pointless question - of course she was unwell, she would not be in such a position otherwise.

Theo lifted her head once more and cracked her eyes open, squinting up at Loki as she blinked slowly. Something about her gaze seemed… Off. 

“What’re you doin’ here?” The question came out half-mumbled and a bit slurred; she listed back and forth ever-so-slightly, almost like she could not keep her balance.

“I had been on my way to the sitting room when I heard crashing come from inside your quarters,” Loki replied, frowning at Theo. “When you did not respond to my knocking, I grew worried and came inside…”

Unsure of how to conclude his statement, Loki trailed off, running his fingers through his hair.

The predicament he found himself in was well outside of his area of expertise; comforting people was something Maximoff was far better with. He briefly debated leaving to fetch the Scarlet Witch – she would know the perfect solution in a moment like this.  Yet, Loki remained frozen in place, mind reeling over how to proceed. Should he try to locate a healer? Should he try to soothe her? Should he leave her alone?

The silence stretched as Loki stared at her, frantically running through different ideas in his head and dismissing them for all the reasons they might not work. Loki found himself frozen, unable to make up his mind about what he should do.

In turn, Theo simply sat there, blinking slowly as she stared up at Loki…

… Until her face crumpled and she caved in on herself, a small, hitched breath giving way to a heartbroken sob.

Such a desolate sound had no place falling from Theo’s lips.

Spurred to action by Theo’s tears, Loki lowered himself to sit on the floor beside her. He may have been an Avenger, but he certainly was not a perfect hero. Despite bravery being in the job description, he had to dig up the last of his courage to pull her into what he hoped would be a comforting embrace. 

At the new touch, Theo tensed, gasping quietly as her trembling hands flew up to cover her mouth and stifle her cries.

Loki froze. 

Yet again, Theo had startled, all because of him. Loki cursed himself - of course he would make a mess of what should have been a simple interaction. With his luck, she wouldn't have a thing to do with him after tonight. 

It was too far to turn back now; after all, in for a penny, in for a pound.

Just before Loki lost his ambition and pulled away, Theo settled beneath his touch, shifting so her face pressed firmly against his chest; hot tears dampened the knit fabric of his shirt as she somehow began to cry even harder. Her arms slipped around his waist, clinging to him despite the way her entire body shook. 

Loki cupped one hand to Theo’s neck, the pad of his thumb slowly brushing against her unusually heated skin. This time, Theo did not recoil or freeze at the change, instead melting into the touch.

Perhaps there was hope.

Motivated by a surge of courage, Loki shifted from simply holding Theo close to tracing gentle, unhurried circles along her back. 

With every new circle, the smallest hint of tension slipped from Theo’s muscles; as more of her body relaxed into Loki’s embrace, her cries slowed and grew softer. Even when Theo had loosened her grip and the only sounds she made were shaky, slow breaths, Loki had no intention of stopping his ministrations. 

“Theo?” He murmured, nose brushing against her hair as he looked down at her.

“M’m s’rry…” With her face fully buried in Loki’s shirt, Theo’s almost embarrassed response came out almost charmingly muffled; however, she made no effort to move.

“It’s alright.” Loki used the hand on Theo’s neck to sweep her messy braid aside, flattening his cool palm against the overheated flesh. “I take it you do not feel well?”

She weakly shook her head. “Feel Awful.”

“How about I help you to your bed so you can get some rest?”

“No, please – I can’t – ” The force with which Theo shook her head the second time caught Loki by surprise, as did the rising panic in her tone. “– Can’t go back–”

“Darling, you need rest if you’re to feel better,” Loki gently tried to rationalize, though if the heat radiating from Theo was any indication, her ability to rationalize likely had been impacted by some level of a fever. “The floor is no place for someone who is ill. You ought to rest in bed.”

“Not mine,” Theo begged, ”I can’t–” 

“Would you like me to bring you to the infirmary so you might rest there?”

Theo shook her head, tightening her arms around Loki.

“I’m not sure what other options there are, as I do not think I can bring bring you to your actor—“

“Broke up.” A new pair of damp spots on Loki’s shirt accompanied the two-word interruption, punctuated by a sniffle.

“Pardon?”

Theo blindly reached to the side, drawing Loki’s eye to her mobile. He unfurled one arm to retrieve it for her. Theo didn’t even pull away from Loki to look at what she was doing as she unlocked the device before handing it back. Loki accepted, eyes scanning across the screen. 

The most recent of Theo’s voice messages was from her lover, not long after the events at the Met Gala. White, hot fury shot through Loki’s veins as he read the transcription; despite what Loki had been told of the Midgardian’s supposed kindness, the message he left Theo was short, blunt, lacking any sense of care for the recipient. If anything, it was downright cruel.

Perhaps it was for the best that Loki needed to ensure Theo was cared for first, as he otherwise might have tracked the bastard down and made him regret his callous behavior. The first thing to sort out, however, was where she might be amenable to resting, since her bed and the infirmary were, for some unknown reason, unacceptable.

An idea came to mind; though it might cause others to talk, it was, up to that point, the best he could manage without waking anyone else and dragging them into the conversation.

“How about you come with me to my quarters?” Loki cautiously suggested. “You can rest there for a while, then decide later if you’d like to return to your own bed or seek out the infirmary. Would that work?”

A slow, almost sleepy nod brought a swell of tenderness to Loki’s chest and a soft smile to his face. 

Loki carefully adjusted to cradle Theo in his arms before slowly rising to his feet. In what almost seemed to be instinct, Theo pressed her forehead into space between Loki’s shoulder and the crook of his neck, letting out a strained breath before settling in. Though Loki had already established the presence of a fever, it wasn’t until carrying Theo that he noticed she was not simply trembling, but downright shivering.

Careful not to jostle Theo as he navigated the tower in the dark, Loki made the return journey to his quarters with restrained haste, relying on his Seidr to help with managing doors and other environmental obstacles that otherwise could have slowed or complicated the process of getting Theo to bed. 

Upon arriving in his own quarters, the dim, golden glow from a nearby lamp provided the first opportunity to take in Theo’s appearance under any sort of light; Loki paused for a moment to confirm his prior assessments regarding Theo’s condition. Much of what he discerned in the dark remained accurate, though he did find the smallest relief that it seemed she had fallen asleep while in transit and appeared almost peaceful… Were it not for the tell-tale signs of tears previously being shed, one might have been fooled into believing all was well. 

With a hushed sigh, Loki brought her from the great room to his bedchambers. A flick of one finger and shimmer of emerald seidr later, Loki lowered Theo onto the bed, carefully tucking her beneath the silken sheets and the plush duvet which Loki had crafted from the finest Asgardian textiles, pausing for a moment when a soft, breathy hum snuck out of Theo and she shifted, snuggling further beneath the covers. 

A few minutes later, Loki had placed a bin beside the bed in the event Theo became sick to her stomach once more, procured a glass of water and set it on the closest nightstand, and drawn the drapes shut so the morning light would not wake her.

With nothing else to distract him, Loki now had to answer the question he had yet to consider: where was he going to sleep?

The proper answer, of course, would be to find alternate sleeping arrangements, lest anyone make inappropriate assumptions about the circumstances. 

But doing so meant leaving Theo by herself, essentially abandoning her when she was in the midst of a particularly vulnerable moment. Surely, she would understand if he remained close by; after all, she trusted him up until this moment, enough to abandon her own quarters in favor of staying in his. Besides, he had stayed with her once before when she felt unwell. Precedent had been set to ensure no one mistook him for less than noble intentions, given the circumstances.

Yet, as Loki crawled beneath the covers on the opposite side of the bed, the distance still felt as if he were abandoning her. What if she woke up, delirious from fever, did not see him beside her, and panicked at the lack of familiar surroundings? If Theo laid with him, Loki would know the moment she woke and could ensure she had whatever she needed; even better, he could use his Jötun heritage for benevolent means, combining it with his seidr to reduce his core temperature so he could serve as a sort of full-body cool compress. 

Amidst warring thoughts, the weight of an arm draped across his chest ripped Loki from his indecision. Theo had rolled over in her sleep, curling into Loki’s side with her head resting atop the dip between shoulder and chest and one leg wrapped around his as if second nature. She nuzzled into him, oblivious to the waking world, her breath slow and deep in contrast to Loki’s racing heart. 

For a moment, Loki found himself dumbstruck by just how natural it felt to lay with her tucked into his side in such a manner. In her most vulnerable moments, she found solace in his presence. In her sleep, she sought him out. And though he could make any multitude of excuses as to why - she was not aware who she curled herself around, she was not of sound mind from illness - the excuses did nothing to dispel the pure awe that resulted from realizing the trust Theo placed in him.

In the morning, he would locate Maximoff and determine how to proceed; until then, he would embrace the trust placed in him, and hopefully repay it tenfold.

He willed his seidr to work, cooling himself to offer Theo some relief from her fever, then allowed himself to drift into a pleasant sleep.

The stars, the moon, They have all been blown out You left me in the dark No dawn, no day, I’m always in this twilight In the shadow of your heart

[ssa-atlas-alvez]

20th Birthday Celebration

Hello and welcome to my 20th birthday celebration sleepover thing! I was going to do it on just a weekend but have since decided to make it the whole week! (Whoa!) So, every night, I will sit down and answer your asks and interact (starting from 6pm, BST). Feel free to send asks in preparation before the 12th of June and throughout the days, I just won’t post the answer until 6pm BST. (My birthday itself is on the 13th but I thought I would start a tumblr celebration early aha). This is going on until Sunday the 19th of June.

So, to do this, I have combined a load of questions, prompts, etc from multiple lists I have found on tumblr to create a Frankenlist! So, when sending a number through please specify which category is under and which fic/character/fandom/character the question is in relation to! 

I may add more questions or prompts as we go :) Also please make sure you read my rules before submitting any request, thank you

For example: Questions, 27 for y/n hotchner series

Or: Angst writing prompt, prompt 8, Derek and Spencer You can request x reader, or you could request that it be related to an ongoing series or a oneshot that has been written (Angst prompt 8, Derek and y/n hotchner for example).

Questions to ask me:

Top 3 favourite lines

2 or 3 sentences from something you haven’t posted yet

A line that made you feel second-hand embarrassment

Series or one-shots?

A line that made you feel a fluffy happiness

Reader insert or OC?

Advice for new writers

Favourite response to one of your works

How do you get your inspiration?

Your favourite chapter/part from a multiparty series

Three works of yours that are must-reads

What is something that you wish you knew before you started writing?

What’s a spoiler for a wip or series?

A line that made you laugh out loud

Favourite story

A line that made you cry

Describe one of your completed works in three words

Any ideas for a possible wip?

Opinion on AUs?

Does anyone in your personal life know that you write on Tumblr?

Is writing cathartic or stressful for you?

Do you focus on attention to detail when you read fics? Are you more or less attention to detail focussed when you write fics?

Do you have any upcoming WIPs? How far along are you with them?

Tell me about one of your abandoned WIPs. Why did you abandon it?

Share a snippet that you’re proud of from an upcoming fic/chapter.

What are some topics you will never write about?

Were there any ideas you had for [insert fic] that you couldn’t make work? What were they?

How do you develop your OCs? (x reader can be included in this)

Are there any fics you’d love to see but don’t want to write yourself? What are they?

Who has been your favourite character to write about in [insert fic]? What do they bring to the fic?

Which OC of yours do you think is the most similar to you? Which OC is the most different? Why?

Why did you choose to write [insert fic]? How long have you been working on it?

Do you prefer writing multi-chapter fics or single-part fics? Do you prefer reading multi-chapter fics or single-part fics?

Do you think you would be friends with your OCs in [insert fic]?

Which fic that you’ve written relates to you and your personal life the most?

Do you stick to canon when you write characters and fics?

What has been the proudest moment for you so far since you started writing?

Do you feel like your work gets enough recognition? What kind of feedback do you like to receive?

Which fic have you put the most work into? Which fic have you put the least work into?

What’s one piece of advice you would give to anyone who wants to start writing or posting their writing online?

What do you like most about your own writing?

What embarrasses you most about your own writing?

What is one WIP you think you may never pick back up?

Do you have any WIPs that you would never let see the light of day? If yes, what are they about?

What is your fave fic to receive comments/messages on?

Do you write every day?

Post a snippet from a current WIP.

What is something you recently felt proud of in regard to your writing (finished a fic, actually planned for once, etc)?

Is there anything you enjoy doing that you think your readers hate?

What time of day do you prefer to write? Why?

Are you a planner, plantser, or pantser? Is it consistent?

Current number of WIPs

Do you tell people in real life that you write fic?

Who is one character you haven’t yet written for that you would like to?

What is one growth area you have for your writing?

Do you read your own fic?

What inspired you to write [insert fic here]?

What is the hardest part of writing fic?

What’s an idea you have that you can’t quite call a WIP yet?

Do you do research for your fics? What’s the deepest dive you’ve done?

What is a headcanon you have about your own work?

Name one of your fave comfort fics (doesn’t have to be your all-time fave).

If one of your fics was going to get you arrested, which one and why?

Do you spend more time reading fic, writing fic, or do you do both equally?

Anything else :)

Writing Prompts:

General:

None of the following, I have my own prompt

“Pay attention to me”

“YOU SAID TO BE HONEST STOP HITTING ME!”

“Okay, so maybe I didn’t see that coming.”

“I’m too sober for this.” “You don’t even drink.” “Maybe I should start.”

“You met me yesterday,” “Yes, and I would die for you. Next question,”

“I’m telling you. I’m haunted.”

“Well, that’s tragic.”

“I’d kill for a coffee…literally.”

“How drunk was I?”

“Excuse you, I can be as dramatic and ridiculous as I want, outside of work hours. You can’t stop me.”

“Yeah, well, I’m cooler than you, so suck it.”

“This is the opposite of what i told you to do.”

Angst:

“Do you even love me anymore?”

“I can’t help but feel like I’m falling apart.”

“You’re my boss, not my mum. Why are you so worried about me all of a sudden?”

“I don’t love you anymore.”

“Everything hurts.”

“I needed you. Where were you?”

“Don’t act like anything has changed. Nothing has changed. You hear me? Nothing. I still hate you.”

“I can’t stop thinking about them. They’re on my mind constantly. I love them but they couldn’t give a shit about me.”

Things I’ve said (or have at least thought or stuff that has happened with my friends):

“People need to stop making me laugh. But most of all me because I'm fucking hilarious.”

“Is it a bad financial decision if it makes me happy for a split second before the impending doom hits?”

Person A: “I'm digging myself a hole.” Person B: “Its okay, I'll get in your hole.” Person A: *blushes because they definitely fancy Person B*

Person A: “What on earth happened?” Person B: “Person C screamed that they were going to hide and I had to find them. When I walked into their room they were hiding under a burrito blanket, naturally, I made myself known and tapped them-” Person C: “You kicked me!” Person B: “I tapped you!” Person A: “Continue…” Person B: “Person A jumped, smacked their head on the bottom of the bed and gave themselves concussion.”

“Stop wobbling the table!” ”I'm sorry! my legs are too short to push my chair!”

“The A-non.” “What?” “the A-non,” “It’s anon,” “Oh this is going to be on the next one [chat post]”

“You learn new things everyday.” “Thats because you ask stupid questions I have to answer,”

Person A: (me) “I love my plant, his name is Gwaine and he’s my child.” Person B: “Hey you should take before and after photos of them.” Person C: “Oh yeah that would be cute-” Person D: “One now, and then one in six months of him sobbing over gwaine’s shrivelled remains.” Person A: “Fuck off!” Person A: “I’m sorry for telling you to f*ck off I didn’t mean it! I’m sorry I love you!”

“My gender is a bit of a sticky situation,”

“I think it was a nervous piss,”

“I haven’t got my knees on,” “Why?” “I can’t put my knees on because my knees are bruised.”

Person A: “Guess my birthday,” Person B: (me)“Is it June?” Person A: “Yep,” Person B: “Is it the last day of June?” Person B: “Is it the 31st of June?” *realises there’s no such day*

Person A: “And then I got Syphilis,” Person B: “...” Person A: “Wait, not Syphilis-”

“You should have a hoe phase.”

Where I got the questions and prompts from:

I used some of the text posts from @fablewolf44 

https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/make-me-imagine/653272946266292224?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/mzjmesa/669750788798693376?source=share

https://starsholland.tumblr.com/post/177886303732/writer-ask-game

https://sweetfogarty.tumblr.com/post/183384116723/fic-ask-game

https://2soulscollide.tumblr.com/post/661031920678928384/dialogue-ideas-writing-block

https://whcczes.tumblr.com/post/169717391964/prompts-list

https://wishiwasanavenger-archive.tumblr.com/post/190047246564/prompt-list

https://andypantsx3.tumblr.com/post/654649556338950144/fanfic-ask-game-the-movie-the-sequel

Tagging some people who interact with my posts or who I think might want to get involved (or who I follow and think are fantastic): @wolf-knights @eldrai @call-me-tears @redheadjustin @kameronrose @gay-prentiss @usermoreid @chocolatebananahandshero @softhairedhotch @makaylajadewrites @bye-bye-gremlings @tobias-hankel @casparwrites @foggyblues-ralvez @angelhotchner @whump-town @masterwords @katytheinspiredworkaholic @auroracalisto @scorpio-hotch @reidology @thebisexualdogdad @ssamorganhotchner @hotchseyebrows @bisexuaboy

Let me know if you want to remove your name from the tag list :)​

[bodycountgame]

Ahead of voting opening on Sunday,  I just wanted to drop a quick FAQ to help answer some of your questions! 

Remind me why we have to vote?

When I started writing Body Count, I didn’t like the idea of deliberately writing filler characters that I didn’t really like and was perfectly happy to kill off. So I thought: “Hey, the beauty of interactive fiction is that it’s interactive! Why not just write only characters that I adore and make my readers decide for me?”

I think it’s kind of a fun idea, and I hope that you guys do too :) 

What are we voting for?

The vote will be between the 9 cast members that you have met so far. You are voting for the character you most want to save; the RO that you most want to keep around and see more of. The top 6 characters in the poll are guaranteed to survive (at least until the next poll).

What are you going to do with the results?

From the results of the poll, the bottom 3 characters will be at risk. I’ll then make the final decision about who actually gets the chop - otherwise it’d be really obvious who is getting murdered from just looking at the poll, and that wouldn’t be very fun at all. Gotta keep some element of surprise, right?

Will all of the votes happen this way?

Not necessarily! I’m trying something new doing this, so I’ll see how it goes. I’m keen to have all of the murder decisions being made by readers, but who appears on the chopping block may vary.

How many times can I vote?

There’s some amount of strawpoll magic stopping you voting more than once, but feel free to get all your friends/family members etc to vote on your behalf. It seems to be more browser based than IP address-y (I don’t know anything about computers - is it obvious?).

When does voting end?

Voting begins on Sunday 30th May and ends at 11:59pm BST on Sunday 13th June (so you’ll have just over two weeks)

More frequently asked questions under the cut!

When will we find out who gets murdered?

When I release a completed Chapter 2! I’d love to be able to put a date on it, but I’m afraid I just don’t know! I’ll still be posting fortnightly updates, so you’ll get a bit of an idea of my progress.

Are the results of the poll going to be visible?

Yep! You’ll be able to keep an eye on how many votes each RO has throughout the voting window. If your fave falls behind and you want to beg your friends to vote on your behalf then power to ya.

The producers aren’t on this poll - that means they’re the murderers!

I’m afraid that you won’t be able to sus out who the murderer is or isn’t based on who appears on polls. The producers aren’t in this one because I think that it makes most sense to have the first murder victim be a cast member - they’ll definitely feature on future polls.

Wait, so the same ROs will die in every game regardless of our MC’s actions?

Yes - at least for the early chapters/deaths. I would love to set it up so each death could be either of two people, but there would be so much coding and work to go into pulling something like that off and I just can’t commit to it.  There are already a lot of variables in Body Count to make the experience as varied as possible for different MCs, so adding this amount of variation would just be really unachievable. 

Ok, but what if all the NB/F/M ROs die?

This isn’t gonna happen! I’m really proud of my diverse cast, and I’ll be making decisions about who is at risk in future polls based on who has already been killed. Basically, there won’t be a situation where only characters of a certain gender/ethnicity are dying, because that would be fucked up.

If my fave dies I’m gonna lose my shit and send you loads of really aggy anon messages.

Ah! How about instead of doing that... you don’t? I realise that some people are going to be disappointed whoever dies, but that’s just the thing - I really can’t please everyone. Even if I just decided for myself who was going to die, it wouldn’t be possible to please everyone. 

If the idea of your RO dying will send you into a frenzy such that you cannot resist sending anon hate, please consider just not playing the WIP and waiting for the final game. I think that this is a really fun idea, but I absolutely accept that it isn’t for everyone.

I hate these mechanics and this game isn’t for me.

Cool, yeah, I totally get that! This game absolutely isn’t for everyone - it’s something that I’m writing for my own amusement more than anything else. If this game isn’t for you, you absolutely don’t have to play it! You could wait for a completed game when you know who is going to die, or you can just peace out altogether. I won’t take it personally and you don’t need to explain to me why you don’t like it.

Will you also give a warning at any point in the full, released game that certain ROs won't make it or will you completely leave it up to surprise?

Yeah, I think so. I plan on including an option to leave it up to surprise or toggle to lock off the romance paths with the ROs that are going to die.

How many murders should we expect to see before the end of the process?

At the moment, I have 3 or 4 murders planned (depending on who they end up being and the direction that I take the plot) plus there isn’t a happy ending with the murderer/s if they are your RO. I’m expecting to lose 4-6 of the original 13 ROs before we finish up. 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Looking for a Place to Happen 2

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), age gap, general stupidity, some violence and threats

This is dark!biker!Sam Wilson x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s lots happening in Birch and you find it all too amusing.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, Little Bones, and Fully Completely

Note: Here’s chapter two. Think I’ll probably slow down writing. Appreciate y’all.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 2: I follow every little whiff

💀💀💀

You gave yourself a day off that week. Rather, the desolation of Birch allowed you an excuse to get away from your desk. An internet outage across the town had you up and wandering the main road just after noon. Your grandmother refused to join you so she was left to her true crime novel and the weekday droning of talk show hosts.

After a peek in the book shop where you picked out some used thrillers for your nan and a guilty splurge on one of Babs' pies to add to the surprise, you stopped by the diner and had some soup to warm up from the unrelenting cold. You played around on your phone as you blindly slurped from your spoon. With no available connection, you swapped candies to achieve a score high enough to get to the next round.

After another loss, you put your screen down and added some pepper to the tomato soup. You leaned your chin in your hand and peered across the road. The Asp was just diagonal from The Chipped Saucer and from your seat by the window you could see the comings and goings of the dingy bar.

You chuckled to yourself as you remembered the hundreds of comments on your video. You weren't entirely surprised that the internet cheered at the sight of a woman beating up a man in broad daylight, you'd seen much worse on the web. But many were curious and asked about how it started and about the small town alluded to in the caption.

You picked up your phone and flipped open the camera. You pointed it through the glass as one of the many bikers strutted out of the bar and down the street. You knew him, like most in town, he was the leader's right hand man. Steve Rogers. He had an odd gait, rigid with long strides, and you remember Kelly used to make fun of him when you walked home from school. That felt like forever ago.

You ended the video and dropped your phone again. You'd send it to Kelly when the outage was over. It would be a good laugh. Plus, you hadn't heard from her much since she moved to the city.

You finished your soup and paid. You went out into the street and cut around to the backstreets. You made your way back to your nans and found Pippin scratching at the front door. You stopped and scooped him up before you let yourself in.

"Don't like the snow, do ya?" You set him down and he whipped his tail before skittering off, "hey nan, I got you some stuff."

"You spend too much," she grumbled as you hung your coat and grabbed her treats.

"Only on you," you sang as you entered the front room, "sugarless blueberry pie, your fave, and some books about murder and all that freaky stuff you love."

"Hmm," she watched you put the pie and books down on the coffee table, "suppose the pie will go good with tea."

"Ah, and I suppose I'll be making that tea?" You returned.

"My arthritis…" she pouted but her grin came through.

"Yeah, yeah," you snickered as you went to the kitchen to put on the kettle, "we going black today or something lighter?"

"Put on some of the pekoe," she called back, "make a whole pot."

"Will do, ma'am," you trilled and basked in her annoyed mutter.

💀

When the internet came back, you sent of an email to inform the agency of the interruption and promised to meet your deadlines. Then you puttered around and added a caption to the video before you sent it off to Kelly; 'why he walk like that tho'. She sent a series of crying emojis back and told you to post it.

'Nah, it's a dumb joke.' You typed back.

'Saw ur last vid, ppl will eat it up,' she insisted.

'Well, got nothing else to put up. The account’s dying since no one cares about my writing.'

'DO IT.' Her words sealed your resolve and you uploaded the video with some dramatic music in the background.

The response was almost instantaneous. Several comments saying they were happy to see more and others being for another video. 'We all wanna see inside this fucked up town' one added and several latched on. Ignoring the questions of where this was, you gave a thin promise of future small town thug content. 

You turned back to your work email and opened up your draft for your next gig. You couldn't help but smile as you went over your work. You might have just found your niche.

💀

You knew your nan would lose it if she knew you were snooping around the club, so you didn’t tell her. You went down, made her breakfast, went back upstairs to do your work, then tiptoed out in the late afternoon to poke around town for something to upload. Birch was so dull when you lived there but to those outside, it was a novelty you were all too eager to provide.

You got more videos of the bikers; some revving their bikes, others arguing, but there was nothing overly usable. You were getting bored of it until the man himself walked out of the bar. You record the man’s glower expression as he marched down the sidewalk and turned off just down the way.

‘His name is Bucket… wtf?!’ you keyed in and snorted as you waited for it to load to your account.

Still, there was nothing special going on, like always in Birch, and your grandmother was bound to get suspicious if you kept sneaking around. You went back and hid your phone before she could bitch about it. You cooked her dinner and sat with her as your thoughts swung between work and your TikTok.

You went to bed but couldn’t sleep. You ended up watching YouTube on your phone as the windows shook with the night winds. It wasn’t until the darkness began to glow that you were roused from the cocoon of your comforter. You looked out and saw smoke coming from the main road.

You didn’t think before you pulled on your jeans and shoved your feet into your slipper, unconcerned about them soaking through as you barreled down the stairs, the sleeves of your hoodie only half on. The back door bounced behind you and you crunched down into the snow and clamored past the row of lifeless houses. 

You were out of breath as you got to the end of the path and rounded the diner to gape over at the burning garage. You got closer as the line of bikers stood in their leather with breath puffing before them in the frigid night. You stepped back into the shadow of the brick façade of the realty office and swiped your camera open.

Your hands shook and you struggled to steady the image on the screen as the mechanic woman raged in only her tee shirt. You didn’t quite understand what was going on; only that her garage was up in smoke and then men were doing nothing to smother it. She swung at the dark haired man and spat at several others; “cowards”... “fuck all of you!”

You gulped and held your breath as she was dragged away by the large redheaded henchman of the slender outsider. She fought for a moment before she was flung over his shoulder and the biker followed their leader back to The Asp. You sidled in between the building and hid until the voices faded into the wind.

Well, that would be a hell of a video. It might even go viral.

💀

Your phone did not stop. You almost felt bad as you saw the screen limn the edges of your cell as you left it face down on the little table beside the couch. Your nan sat in her rocking chair talking away on her corded phone to Linette from down the road. You suspected that every other person in town was gossiping about the same thing; the fire.

You finished your coffee and rubbed your eyes as you checked the time and ignored the pulsing notifications. It was too much to keep up with.

Your grandmother hung up and sighed, “can’t believe it. You hear?”

“Hear what?” you pretended ignorance.

“That old garage burned down. The one with the lady,” she said, “pity. When I was a girl, that place was a salon. Ma used to take us there to get our hair cut. The barber would give us wrapped candies and pretend to cut himself with his scissors.”

“Oh? It burned down?” you weren’t sure you were very convincing but you also could just say you saw it happen.

“Yep, no one really can say. You know, maybe she was welding or some rag caught, but I bet my money on those bikers,” she sneered.

“Good thing you’re poor,” you kidded, “and why the bikers?”

“Oh, well, you know Kimmy, Linette’s girl, works down at the diner and she saw that mechanic arguing with one of those strangers, the ones dealing with the club men. Well, it’s no coincidence that trouble follows those leather jackets around,” she rocked as she nodded knowingly, “oh, one of the boys I knew back in the day, he was found burnt up with his bike. They said the tank blew… well, I saw it and that tank was pristine.”

“Nan,” you gasped, “you… Jesus.”

“Well, things don’t change in Birch, we just get older,” she continued, “when you’re young, everything seems new but then you age and it’s all just the same.”

“Wow, how… inspiring,” you said dryly.

“Girlie, you gotta be careful,” she intoned, “that fire, that’s a lesson to all the women in this town. To everyone. You don’t cross the Commandos.”

“I don’t think anyone--”

“That’s another thing, there has never been a shortage of stupid people, not now not then,” she girded, “those women who get tied up in that club, their lives are already done.”

You frowned and hid your phone in your pocket as you stood. You rubbed your neck and picked up your empty mug, “I should get started.”

“Mmm,” she said as she dialed the phone again, “I wonder if Fran knows yet.” 

💀

You were being really fucking stupid but peer pressure was not a logical thing. Even through a screen, you found it hard to resist the goads. So there you were, your phone in your hand as you live-streamed your walk down to The Asp. The data costs alone would make you regret it but you were caught up in the hype of you fifteen second of internet fame.

“Alright,” you stopped across the street and gave a view of the moniker with Cleopatra sultrily looking down at you, “this is it… I just gotta play it cool…” you turned the lens towards you and smiled nervously, “hopefully that dude at the front doesn’t stop me.”

Comments flicked up the bottom of the screen so fast and smilies and hearts floated up the side around your face. You crossed the screen as you turned your phone against your coat and approached the bar door. The large biker butted out his smoke and you bared your teeth nervously. He didn’t stop you as he rolled his shoulders and coughed.

You entered to the noise of classic rock and low voices, the clink of glasses and tap of chalk on marble. You glanced around and quickly swept your phone around to give a view of the patrons. You hurried over to the bar and climbed up on a stool.

“You need a drink?” the woman behind the bar scowled. She looked worn out even with her lips painted bright pink and her eyes clouded with blue shadow.

“Uh, sure, can I… can I get one pint of everything you have on tap?” you asked as you set your phone down and shrugged out of your coat. You draped it over the next stool and reposition your phone as you flipped the cam and used the built in stand on the case to angle yourself onto the screen.

“Sure,” she narrowed her eyes and glanced past you.

You swung your feet as you waited for her to pour the five pints; some with too much foam and the others with no head at all. You took the first and held it up for the camera.

“A classic, BudLight,” you held it up to the light, “no head and…” you sipped, “flat.” You plunked it down and coughed as you grabbed the next, “this is a raddler?” you looked at the tap for confirmation, “grapefruit… smells like piss…” you had a sip, “tastes like it too.”

You chuckled to yourself and asked for a water. You made a show of swishing it around in your mouth before you moved onto the third beer.

“Had to cleanse the palate,” you joked, “now… lots of foam on this one, dark. You know, I’m pretty surprised they have Guinness here but let’s see…” you tasted it and crinkled your nose, “that’s it. Exactly like toilet water!”

You read some of the comments telling you to check the bottles for bugs and laughed. Suddenly you were yanked off the stool by the back of your shirt and your phone was swiped up by another man as the first restrained you. You struggled against his thick arm as it hooked around your neck and the leader of their crew stared at the screen of your cell.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he snarled as he hit the screen with his thumb but the stream kept going. He dropped the phone to the floor and stomped it instead.

“This is the bitch posting about us online,” the man at your back growled. It was Steve, the one with the weird walk.

“I doubt either of you know how to use a computer,” you scoffed, “hey, let me go.”

“And why would we do that when you’re snitching to the whole world, sweetheart?” Bucky kicked your phone away as he crossed his arms.

“Actually, I’m--” you grasped Steve’s arm as it threatened to get tighter, “--promoting your trash business. I was just having a tasting, if you had just asked--”

“Shut up!” Bucky stepped closer and brought your legs up and stopped him as you planted your feet against his stomach.

“Hey,” a woman’s voice came from behind the bar as the waitress shoved aside her empty tray, “hey, she’s just a kid.”

“Bullshit,” Bucky huffed, “she looks full-grown to me.”

“So what are you gonna do?” she said, “she’s young. You can’t--”

“Don’t tell me what I can’t do,” he snapped.

“She’s right,” another voice intoned and that man, Sam, came up beside them with a pool cue in hand, “she’s just goofing around.”

“She’s a rat,” Steve insisted.

“You’re being dramatic. It’s called a meme and you do walk a little strange,” he chuckled, “no one’s gonna follow her breadcrumbs back to this shithole anyway.”

Bucky considered Sam and then looked at Steve. He poked his cheek with his tongue and sucked his teeth.

“So… you vouching for her?” Bucky asked.

“She won’t cause any more trouble, promise,” Sam said, “I’ll make sure of it.”

“You better,” Bucky snapped his fingers and you were released, “get her out of here.”