#To answer all the questions and concerns I am ok! I’m just writing because I wanna update all my fics

[bookishfeylin]

Expect a fic update soon!

[ginax0916]

₊✧ 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐀𝐧𝐤𝐥𝐞 ✧₊

Chris Sturniolo x hurt!gf!reader

Genre: Fluff

Synopsis: Chris’s gf’s ankle is broken and he helps her even when she doesn’t need help.

*I got the idea of writing this from their recent Wednesday video where Chris tried to help Matt down the stairs*

✧˖°⋆⑅˚₊

“So what did the doctor say?” My boyfriend Chris asks as I walk back into the waiting room where he waits with his brothers.

“Well if you couldn’t already tell by the boot on my foot, my ankle is broken” I sarcastically say.

“Oh shit. What even happened?” Matt asks.

“My dumbass got on the kitchen counter to reach something from the top shelf and when I jumped down I landed on it wrong and then I heard a crack and well yall know the rest” I sigh limping to them.

“Yo you sure you’re good to walk all the way to the car love?” Chris asks holding me up by my waist.

“Oh by the way y/n it would be good to invest in crutches for the first few days! Forgot to mention that earlier” The doctor says as she walks out into the waiting room to call her next patient.

“Does that answer your question?” I laugh.

We sign the papers I needed to be discharged and both Chris and Matt help me limp back to the car since I refuse to be carried like a baby.

“I’m gonna stop at Walgreens because they sell crutches there I’m pretty sure” Matt says.

“But I don’t want crutches” I sigh for the hundredth time.

“Y/n the doctor literally walked out to tell you that you need crutches. We’re buying them” Nick retorts.

“Fine whatever” I slouch down in defeat.

“Ok we’re here. Y/n stay in the car so you don’t have to walk all the way there. Do you want anything else?” Matt questions.

“Can you get me some nerd gummy clusters please? Oooh and a bottle of raspberry Iced Tea if there is any” I smile.

“Of course kid” Matt smiles back.

“I’ll stay with her in the car” Chris says.

“Alright just don’t be making out once we get back” Nick rolls his eyes as he closes the door.

“How you feel ma? Does it hurt?” Chris asks and rubs my thigh.

“I’m okay. And no it doesn’t hurt it feels fine actually” I say.

“Alright then that’s good” I nod in agreement.

“So how am I meant to fuck you with your broken ankle”

“Chris! Why is that your first concern” I laugh.

“I literally asked if it hurt 2 seconds ago!” He lifts his hands in defense.

“Wow makes such a difference Christopher” I slap his arm.

“See! Fucking you was not my first concern initially” He points his finger at me laughing.

“Yea but it was your second which is insane” I giggle.

“Come on don’t act like it wasn’t yours” He smiles sheepishly.

“Oh shut up Chris” I laugh again.

“Oh good you’re both decent” Nick says startling us as he opens the car door.

“Come on we aren’t that immature Nick” Chris says.

“Oh trust me you are Christopher” Nick pats him on the shoulder.

“What’s with people and calling me Christopher today damn” Chris turns back around in his seat.

“Y/n I got you the ice tea you wanted and along with the candy. And unfortunately they were out of stock of crutches so they let us order them online so they should arrive in like 2-3 days” Matt comments as he gets in the car handing me my stuff.

“Thanks Matt” I say. “I can go 2-3 days without walking I’m sure” I chuckle.

“I can just carry you around” Chris speaks up.

“What a delight” I sarcastically say.

“Oh come don’t act like you don’t already ask me to carry you around because you’re too lazy” He says slightly offended by my joke.

“I’m joking baby of course I don’t mind being carried around by you” I giggle.

—

“I’m gonna go pick up Canes for dinner is that good with you guys?” Matt yells from the garage.

“Yes that’s perfect thanks Matt!” I yell back.

“Wait I wanna come with you I’m bored and you always get my order wrong any way” Nick says while running down the stairs to join Matt.

“See ya guys!” Nick says.

“Bye Nick!” Both Chris and I say back.

“So what do you wanna do mama?” Chris asks, sitting down on the couch with me.

“I’m not sure. What is there to do?” I turn my body to be facing Chris and I lay my head of the cushions behind me.

“We could watch a movie, watch YouTube, play a board game or just talk. Whatever you want baby” Chris says, grabbing both my legs and draping them over his lap careful to not hurt my ankle.

“Ummm I’m not sure. But I have to pee” I say getting up. Slightly wincing at the pain of my foot touching the ground.

“C’mere” Chris mumbles, picking me up bridal style and carrying me to the bathroom.

“Thank you Chrissy” I kiss him on the cheek.

“You’re welcome and don’t call me that again” He laughs.

“Can you take my pants off for me please?” I pout.

“Oh now you’re just being a baby. Your hands work perfectly fine” Chris rolls his eyes.

“Fine me the injured person who could die any second will pull her owns pants down god” I dramatically say.

“Oh shut up and go to the bathroom babe” Chris says walking out of the bathroom laughing.

As I finish I limp into the kitchen where Chris leans against the counter.

“Hey you’re not meant to be walking you should’ve called me” Chris says picking me up and setting me on the countertop.

“I swear I’m okay love” I smile cupping his cheeks.

“Yea well the boot on your foot says otherwise” He says and grabs my waist pulling me into a warm hug.

“I love your hugs” I say nuzzling closer into him.

“And I love hugging you” He mumbles, kissing my cheek.

“Can we go to your room and watch a movie while Nick and Matt get back?” I politely ask.

“Of course we can ma” Chris smiles helping me down from the counter.

“Alright c’mon I’ll carry you down the stairs baby” He comments as he bends down ready to pick me up.

“No wait I want to do it myself” I shake my head.

“Babe the doctor said you had to be in crutches you most definitely can’t go down the stairs by yourself” Chris sighs annoyed at my stubbornness.

“Please baby? I swear I can do it” I give him my best puppy eyes to convince him.

“No don’t look at me like that ma you know I’m gonna cave” Chris covers his face with his hands.

“I’m taking that as a yes” I giggle.

“But I will be right behind you and I’m going to pick you up the second I see you stumble understood?” Chris sternly says.

“Yes I understand” I smile.

I step one foot on the first step and then the next, grabbing tightly onto the rail I limp my way down to the 4th step. Only about 15 left oh god. I thought I could do it but it hurts really bad. There’s a stinging pain on my ankle every time I step. It’s bringing tears to my eyes. But I don’t want Chris to think that I’m weak and I can’t do it. But god does it hurt. It’s getting obvious that I can’t do it, I whimper in pain every time step, tears threatening to fall. I bring my hand up to wipe my eyes but I also stepped at the same time. I lose my balance and almost fall but Chris catches me. Oh fuck.

“Hey hey I got you, you’re ok” Chris picks me up bridal style and goes the rest of the way down to his room with me in his arms. My head resting on the crook of his next softly crying. I’m not even sure if it’s because of embarrassment or pain, maybe both.

He sets be down on the edge of the bed and kneels in front of me.

“What’s wrong baby, why’re you crying that pretty makeup away hm?” Chris sweetly asks, moving my hair out of my face.

“I just- I didn’t want you to think I was weak and couldn’t do it myself” I quietly replied with my voice cracking.

“Oh baby you’re not weak. You just have a literal broken ankle. Asking for help sometimes is never being weak ok? I will never ever judge you for anything especially not being able to go down the stairs with a broken ankle. I’m always here for you ma” Chris comforts me, rubbing my arms soothingly.

“Thank you Chris” I smile leaning it to hug him.

“I love you” He kisses my cheek, hugging me back.

“Who wants Canes!!” Matt yells from the top of the stairs.

“You gonna let me carry you now mama?” He laughs as he picks me up, my legs going around his waist carefully with my ankle.

“Took you guys long enough! I’m starving” Chris laughs.

✧˖°⋆⑅˚₊

[g1rld1ary]

hi baby !! 🧡

im sick rn and ive looked alllllll over and i couldnt find anything could you write a sickfic for luke from jatp where the female!reader gets sick ? reader is his girl 😽

im doing the same prompt on my blog because im so obsessed with the idea of sickfics and im such a luke girl

so you probably wont have much trouble figuring out who sent you this later if you look it up LMFAO 😍😍

pshsshssh thank you !! 🌼🌼

sick days ; luke patterson x fem!reader

➻ synopsis: you're not feeling well, but luke is here to look after you

➻ word count: 1905

➻ content: established relationship, implied aged up to early 20ish, pet names (love, baby, my girl), tooth rotting fluff

➻ obsessed with this request!!! i've never written a sickfic before so hope this is ok!! hope ur feeling better lovey xxxx

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Your body ached. That was the only thing you could feel. Actually, that was incorrect; you also had a headache and a snotty nose and you were pretty sure your temperature could boil water. In essence, you felt awful. You’d toughed it out for as long as you could, making yourself a steaming hot tea and cozying into the sofa for the night. It wasn’t making you feel any better. So, in a last ditch effort of saving your night, you dialled your boyfriend.

You smiled as his croaky, half-asleep voice came through your phone, murmuring your name.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” You asked, brows furrowed as you checked the time, gasping when it read 1:45am. You thought it was still closer to eleven.

“Don’t worry about it, couldn’t sleep anyway,” Luke lied and you frowned, though he couldn’t see it through the screen.

“No, it’s dumb. I’m sorry I woke you up. Night, Luke.” You moved to hang up when Luke interrupted you.

“Baby, wait! Clearly something’s bothering you. What’s up?” You smiled despite your discomfort, your boyfriend always boosting your mood without even trying.

“Nothing,” You pouted in your puddle of blankets, “Just feel sick.” You could feel Luke’s pity without him saying anything and weren’t sure whether to be indignant or grateful.

“Can you stay awake for twenty more minutes, love?”

“I guess so, why?” You asked, turning the TV back on as something to keep you from sleeping.

“I love you,” Was all he said, hanging up on you abruptly. You smiled softly to yourself, willing your eyes to stay open as you tried to focus on the sitcom in front of you.

You were just dozing off when you heard your apartment door unlocking and the brief shuffling of feet in the entryway. Your grin brightened, the familiar butterflies returning to your chest, even after months of being with Luke. The man in questioned approached you quietly, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead as you looked up at him.

“Luke, it’s 2 am, what are you doing here?” You asked despite the obvious answer, opening your shield of blankets for him to crawl onto the sofa with you. He made you wait, tipping out his reusable shopping bag onto the coffee table in front of you. There lay a pint of ice cream, tea bags, painkillers, and your favourite chocolate. Suddenly you weren’t sure if the heat on your face was fever or blush. Silently you held your arms out, and Luke dove into them with all the enthusiasm of a child, peppering your faces with all the kisses he could manage.

“Couldn’t let my girl be sick on her own,” He mumbled, nuzzling himself into the crook of your neck, eliciting a bout of giggles from you.

“My very own Prince Charming,” You grinned, pecking his temple. After a gratuitous moment of cuddling Luke peeled himself off you, taking on the role of concerned caretaker. He was quick to dart into the kitchen, turning the kettle on for your tea and grabbing a spoon for the ice cream he’d bought. Sitting himself in the vacant spot next to you he fixed his focus onto the TV.

“What are we watching?” He asked, pulling the lid off the ice cream tub for you.

“How I Met Your Mother, I’ve just reached season seven.” Luke gasped dramatically, holding his hands over his chest in faux outrage.

“You continued without me? How could you?” You laughed at his accusatory tone, shrugging your shoulders.

“I’m sorry, Lukey. You have to forgive me though, I’m sick,” You punctuated the statement with a pathetic cough, smiling as Luke easily settled down.

You watched in silence for a bit, both giggling at the stupid jokes. After a while you felt Luke looking at you seriously, but chose not to think much of it, continuing to tune in to the show. When he pulled out a thermometer, you raised an eyebrow. Luke wasn’t usually one to be so prepared, but you let him rest it on your tongue nonetheless. When it read a concerningly high number Luke frowned, silently popping the painkillers out of their packaging, feeding you with the insistence of a fed up mother hen.

“Why aren’t you a nurse?” You joked, swallowing the medication with a mouthful of melted ice cream, “Rockstar be damned.”

“Only for you, love.”

“That’s not true, I’ve seen you fretting over Reggie,” You laughed, and Luke couldn’t help but join you.

“That’s fair. You’re my favourite, though.”

“How unexpected.” You craned your neck to press a kiss to his jaw, revelling in the dumb grin that crept onto his face.

You both settled into silence, you leant into Luke’s side, his hands rubbing soft circles into your thigh. You could feel yourself drifting in and out of sleep, never quite able to stay in it for one reason or another. The blanket was too hot, you were cold without it, your head hurt. Nothing was quite right and all you wanted to do was sleep for as long as humanly possible.

“Luke?” You whispered, in case he was already asleep.

“Yes, love?” He replied, shifting his position to look down at you. You faltered for a moment, overwhelmed with the pure adoration in his eyes.

“Will you play for me?” Luke was up in a second, arranging you on the sofa. You giggled as he manhandled you, lying you down and wrapping you tightly in your blanket so you couldn’t escape. You teased him about being his captive audience as he tuned his guitar quickly, never being so grateful for his perfect pitch.

Without anymore holdups Luke began to play, plucking softly at the strings to create a melody that filled the air of your little apartment. His playing was like a siren call, pressing weights on your eyelids until you could barely stand to keep them open. You watched him while you could, admiring the way the faint light from the kitchen lamp made him look like an Adonis, his hair illuminated in gold and his features accentuated by the shadows. You couldn’t believe he was your boyfriend. Luke Patterson, heartthrob of Julie and the Phantoms was your dorky, adoring boyfriend who would make supermarket trips in the middle of the night for you. Who had your favourite ice cream memorised and your key attached to his, so he could come see you whenever he missed you (which was pretty much always).

Despite the various aches and pains that had overtaken your body, the only thing you could feel as you drifted off to sleep was the burning ball of light in your chest, a chemical mixture of joy and love and gratitude, overtaking your senses one by one until you were asleep, dreams filled of beautiful images of your boyfriend.

When you woke up the next morning, you figured out it wasn’t morning at all. Luke had evidently switched off your phone’s alarm after you’d fallen asleep, and it was well into early afternoon when you’d arisen. To his credit though, the sleep had done you some good, and you felt much less like walking death after an intense sleep.

You untangled yourself from the knit blanket, your feet wobbly on the hard wood floors. You had serious post-nap daze, and wandered through your flat looking for your boyfriend. The poorly made sheets on your actual bed told you where Luke slept last night — or this morning, more accurately — you smiled at the way he’d arranged your stuffed animals.

Stuck to the fridge under your New York City magnet was a note from Luke, explaining he had to go to rehearsal but he’d be back later to check on you. You pulled the paper off, travelling back to your room to put the note in your ‘Luke’ box, adding to the collection of notes and drawings he’d given you inconsequentially that you’d held onto.

As the afternoon ticked by you’d gotten onto your computer, figuring that although you were still ill you should try and get something productive done. You were armed with your box of tissues as you got started on an assignment you had due at the end of the week, and slipped your headphones on to get into the headspace.

You screamed as a pair of arms wrapped around you from behind, quickly dissolving into giggles as you realised it was only Luke, back from rehearsal.

“Your voice still sounds scratchy, baby, how are you feeling?” He asked, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Better, promise. Tomorrow I’ll probably go to class if I get another good night’s sleep.”

“That’s my girl.” He grinned, and you felt your insides melting all over again. You closed the laptop, knowing you weren’t going to get much more done now that Luke was with you.

You spent the evening together, ordering in pizza from the place around the corner and getting slightly wine drunk as Luke told you all about his earlier rehearsal and the antics of his band. He sang you part of the new song he and Julie had written and you applauded dramatically, only stopping when you broke into a coughing fit.

“Wanna watch something?” He asked when you grew tired again, cuddling up to him like a cat.

“Barbie?” You asked hopefully, looking up at him with wide eyes. Luke sighed dramatically, but you knew he was just pretending not to like the animated movies you’d grown up on.

“Only if it’s Island Princess,” He offered and you nodded enthusiastically.

The two of you settled in for the movie night, Luke getting much more into the movie as it went on, as he always did. By the end you were singing duets — your voice considerably less pleasing than his, especially due to your illness — Luke taking on the role of the prince letting you be Ro.

As the credits rolled you felt your eyes closing again, and you felt eerily like you did as a younger girl, falling asleep on the couch after a Barbie movie. This was better though, because now you had Luke next to you. He’d taken his role as big spoon extremely seriously, and had all but become one with the couch, pressing into the back as he wrapped his arms around you tightly.

You shifted your position to face him, watching his face relax into contentedness as he tried to doze off to sleep. Feeling you watch him he cracked one eye open, mouth producing a dumb grin that made butterflies erupt in your chest.

“What?” He asked, but you got the distinct impression he knew exactly what you were thinking.

“Nothing,” You lied, but gave in easily, “You’re pretty.”

“You’re pretty too. Now go to sleep.” You nodded, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Kay, goodnight Lukey. I love you.”

“Love you too, my girl. So much.” His answer was muffled by him pressing his face into your hair to pull you closer, but you couldn’t wipe the smile from your face even as sleep enveloped you.

[tiredlilguy]

" Is This... Ok?"|DILFTOBER W4

lost? main masterlist. / dilftober masterlist. / PM masterlist.

a/n: SO SORRY FOR THE DELAYYYY!!! It's been a crazy busy week, and I haven't had time to just sit down at a cafe and just... write TT-TT On top of that, I was really brain dead like all last week, so Saturday I couldn't find myself sitting at my computer. I had to lay down for a while... to be honest I needed the rest. Anyways, ENJOYYY THIS HOT REDHEAD I LOVE HIM >:D this is also on A03! :O

pairing: Oda Sakunosuke X GN!Reader cw: NSFW 18+ (if you are a minor, you will be blocked), proofread, but there may be some mistakes desc: with a small talk over dinner (and with much thought), you decided to allow your boyfriend to take you v card. ~~ kink this week: virginity loss

A warm hand slid under your shirt, making you shiver at the touch.

Oda’s hands were… rough, but at the same time, they were also quite gentle. That tenderness never failed to make you melt, the blush on your face only getting worse.

“ Is this… ok?” Oda’s eyes looked down at you with concern. Well, his usual blank expression stayed the same, but his eyes spoke his true emotions.

You lightly nodded, placing your hand over his to reassure him that you were okay. You looked up at him with sultry eyes and god damn, he was so hot.

The tired eyes looking back at you, the stubble, the messy bedhead, the calloused roughness of his hands combined with his gentle touch.

It never failed to make you fold over, eyes hazy with a clouded mind as you got lost in his eyes.

But then again… How did you get here?

…

You and your boyfriend were sitting across from each other at the kitchen counter in his apartment after a long day of work. There wasn’t anything particularly on your mind as you both ate curry across from each other with the television playing as background noise. Oda never exchanged many words with you around this time, enjoying the shared silence between the both of you. However, as he looked over at the TV, his other hand moved to slide under yours, intertwining your fingers with his with your palm facing down. His thumb trailed over yours as he let out a sigh, placing his spoon off to the side and swallowing the food that was in his mouth.

“ Oda…,” you called out, placing your utensil down and leaning your cheek over your other hand.

“ Mm…,” he only responded with a hum, his eyes still fixated on the illuminated screen.

You hesitated for a second, a certain question on your mind, but relaxed as his thumb swiped over your hand again. You continued,” I got a question to ask you.”

Oda hummed once more, his focus wasn’t towards you, but you could tell he perked up as you spoke to him. You knew he was listening at least. He picked up the beer can that was beside his plate and took a sip.

“ Have you ever had sex before?”

The alcohol that was just about to go down his throat was spat out back into the can immediately as Oda was about to gag on his drink. He beat his chest in an attempt to stop choking, eventually being able to clear his throat.

His voice was a little shaky, as he sighed,” Quite the question.”

“ Well?” you smirked up at him, finding his reaction to your question entertaining.

“ Well… yes, I have,” he answered, a light blush dusting his cheeks,” Though, it wasn’t anything other than just a one-night stand or… no hard feelings attached I guess. Why do you ask?”

You hummed as he answered your question,” Hm… I only ask because I haven’t before.”

Oda nodded, placing the beer can down,” Am I your first love then?”

Shaking your head, your gaze moved down to your empty plate with a blush,” No actually… I’ve never actually gotten to that stage yet, maybe just out of fear or something, but I’d been thinking about it for a while and…”

His rust-red eyes looked over at you, a hint of curiosity and excitement swirling in them.

“ I think I’m ready,” you blurted out nervously. You were unaware of your hand that gripped onto his tighter. He returned that pressure calmly, his thumb running over the skin of your hand.

“ Hey, relax,” he reassured you, rough voice bringing you out of your thoughts as he smiled at you,” It’s ok, don’t worry… I’ll take good care of you.”

You only nodded. The two of you silently agreed, cleaning up after yourselves and placing the dishes in the sink with a certain tension.

…

You followed him into the bedroom, his hand holding yours as you both walked over. All the while, your mind was a little flooded, asking yourself whether you should even be doing this. However, that all went out the window when Oda opened the door to the bedroom, walking over to the bed to sit you both down.

“ I just wanna make sure…,” his other hand moved a strand of hair out of your face,” You’re okay with this?”

You nodded, less shy than you usually have before,” Yes… I want to do this with you. I trust you, Oda.”

“ Hm…,” Oda hummed under his breath as he moved his face closer to yours,” You’re very pretty like this…”

“ Then come kiss me,” a small smirk formed on your lips.

Oda wasted no time, moving his lips on top of yours in a sweet kiss. You kissed back, hand moving around his back as he moved to your waist. The tension in your shoulders and back seemed to go away as you kissed him. You could… relax for once: the trail of thoughts running through your brain started to go away. Kissing him was relieving, you felt as though you didn’t have to think about anything else. His thumbs caressed your waist, sending a shiver up your spine as he kissed you deeper. You relaxed in his cold, as his hands gently placed you down on the bed.

However, the motion makes you jump slightly, causing Oda to stop. He did so, lips moving away from yours as he looked down at you with concern. His hand moved to your cheek, trying to make you comfortable.

“ Hey… you’re ok,” he spoke softly,” Did you want to stop? I’m sorry if I scared you.”

“ N-no… I uhm,” you played with your fingers nervously,” I’m just not used to it. I don’t really know what to do, I guess. Or think about…”

“ I see,” he leaned over you, mouth to whisper in your ear,” How about you just focus on me…? Don’t think about anything else, just focus on what I’m doing to you.”

As he continued to speak, one of his hands caressed your side again.

“ Focus on how you feel, love… How does this feel, hm?”

“ G-good…,” you stuttered with a small gasp.

His hot breath trailed down to your neck, nuzzling his nose under your chin. You felt his knee come in between your legs as he left a small kiss on your neck.

“ You still ok?” he asked, wanting to make sure you were comfortable.

You nodded, letting go of your hands and placing them down on the bed,” I just feel a little hot, I-I guess.”

“ Good,” he smirked, licking a stripe up the side of your neck.

“ Is that good?” you shivered at his actions but tried to relax again.

“ You’re supposed to feel a little hot, sweetheart. Don’t think too much, ok?”

You only nodded in response, letting his continue to touch you: moving to your sides to your shirt to lift it up slightly. He was enjoying taking his time with you, seeing you squirm under his touch. It was cute… watching your eyes become more clouded with lust the more he touched you. One of his hands hooked under your shirt, pushing it up slightly. You lifted your waist, letting him push it up further and eventually helping you out of it: a small hiss came out of your mouth as you felt the cold in the room. However, that feeling was quickly gone as you felt his hands around your waist.

“ So pretty,” he leaned down, placing a kiss on and around your stomach,” So beautiful.”

“ O-Oda,” a soft moan left your mouth as you reacted to his kisses.

“ You’re so beautiful like this, love,” Oda praised, looking up at you with desperate eyes,” Will you let me touch you?”

You nodded again: that heated feeling filling you with desire. You had no idea what he was going to do to you, but you trusted him… and if anything, you almost felt as though you were begging for him to touch you.

Calloused fingers ran down to your pants, hooking over them and tugging them down cautiously. You let out a small yelp, arching your back in nervousness.

“ Shh… my love, you’re ok,” he reassured again, moving up to kiss your forehead. You closed your eyes, scrunching your nose as he did so. His lips moved to kiss your cheek, your nose, and eventually another one of your lips.

“ I’m just gonna take off your pants and underwear, ‘k?” Oda reassured you, before kissing your jaw and moving back down.

Both of his hands tugged the waistband off your hips.

“ Up,” he gently commanded to you. You did so, lifting your hips up so he could easily slide them off of you.

You felt shy, moving your legs together so that you could somewhat hide yourself. Oda frowned, a hand moving to your knee.

“ Don’t be shy,” his voice was like honey in your ears,” Open your legs for me, love.”

You took a second, letting out a breath of air before opening your legs. Oda smiled.

“ So pretty.”

“ Oda… mm,” you whined, a cute pout moving to your face.

“ What is it, love?” he looked at you.

“ Touch me,” you said pleadingly,” P-please…”

“ Ok, love,” he softly laughed,” Sorry, just got caught up in you… You’re beautiful>”

He scooted down, warm hand cupping your side as his other met your hole: at first dipping a finger in. You whimpered once again but relaxed soon after.

“ Is this… ok?” Oda looked up at you, a blush dusting his cheeks.

“ Feels good, Oda,” you muttered, the blush on your face getting redder.

Oda watched as he took his time, dipping a finger into you. You let out a moan as he did so, feeling slightly embarrassed at the noise that came out of your mouth. However, before you knew it, your mind was clouded as he fully inserted his finger.

“ G-gah… Oda,” you moaned, writhing under his touch as he moved his fingers inside your hole: touching your gummy and tight walls. You felt that heat in your stomach get warmer as he did so, fingers dipping further into you. Before you knew it, another inserted itself inside you.

“ Ngh-hah!,” you jumped, moaning a little louder this time. The hand on your hip held you down though, making it harder for you to move.

“ Hm? Does my baby feel good?” he moved down to your ear, licking up the shell. His actions made you shiver once more.

“ Y-yeah,” another moan slipped out of your mouth.

He curled his finger into your hole, making you arch again. The heat only getting harder to hold in. You felt your release coming up.

“ Mm!,” you shifted,” Hah- I… I-“

You released onto his fingers without warning: your liquids spewing out onto yourself and his fingers. Your hands moved to cover your face, wanting to hide yourself once again.

“ S-sorry! Shit- I-I couldn’t hold it in,” you apologized desperately.

“ That was hot,” he commented, before moving down to kiss your stomach once more.

After releasing, the more he touched you, the more sensitive you felt. You couldn’t stop yourself from shaking at his feather-like touch.

Oda’s other hand moved to your wrists, moving them out of your face.

“ Don’t be shy, my love,” he whispered again,” It’s just me.”

“ O-ok,” you placed your hands down at your sides.

Oda let you relax for a moment… Well, it was really just a moment, until you felt his tongue dip down to your stomach, getting closer to your core.

“ F-fuck-! Hah,” you arched your back at his sudden again. You looked down, noticing him stick his tongue out closer to your core.

“ ‘M a little hungry… I’ll have my dessert.”

[also if you want, please consider getting me a coffee or commissioning me ;) no pressure ofc!!! i understand that we're all in different circumstances/situations, any support of any kind is appreciated <3]

[spectrerie]

Ok I have no idea if your requests are on or not because I literally never request but I love your writing so here I am! Anyways I can’t stop thinking about ghost x hacker reader who works with 141 and they have to go with the guys on a mission to like hack through security systems or something (idk) but ghost absolutely refuses to let them go like he is so against it. And maybe while they’re on the mission the reader gets hurt or something idrk I haven’t thought that far ahead but I thought you would do so good with this idea!!! Thank you!!

Hello!!!!!!! This request is so good! I got a bit carried away and wrote 3.5k words on it lmaoo, but I'm happy with it now, so I'll post it as an answer to this ask

If you die, I swear I'll kill you.

Simon Ghost Riley x gn!reader

Please enjoy this anon, and anyone else who reads it.

TW: injury, slight workplace bullying, enemies(?) to friends

“With all due respect, sir, no. I don’t need to babysit some egg-head while I’m in the field.” Ghost sat with his arms crossed, knees apart, filling his chair and the room with his presence. 

You glanced at Price, you’d both expected this reaction, but it still hurt to hear him say it so easily.  For nearly two years you’d put your best foot forward. Did everything to get him to like you until it became clear that he never would. You were ready to settle for respect, for a crumb of acknowledgement. Though soon that too was clearly out of your reach. Now you were just happy to keep out of his way. You weren’t part of the 141, no matter how much information you’d stolen for them, no matter how much data you mined for them, no matter how many sleepless nights you’d given them. You weren’t a soldier. Ghost made sure to remind you of that at every chance he got. 

At every debrief he treated you like you were just a piece of the furniture. He ignored you with ease, asking questions to everyone but you. Making plans and strategising with everyone’s strengths in mind but yours. Any information he needed about what you could do he’d obtained through Captain Price. Often with you in the same room, going over your head like you were some machinery he’d be crazy to speak to. 

You typed and looked through files. You were a glorified intern as far as he was concerned. 

“Well Lieutenant, it’s not up to you, is it? Owl is going with you, and that’s final.” 

A part of you cringed at the nickname despite the joy it normally filled you with. You’d felt honoured when Soap had coined it. The night owl of the 141, playing with mice and bringing veritable feasts of information back to the nest. But hearing it used in front of Ghost felt wrong. You could feel his eyes roll without even looking at him. 

You didn’t need a call sign. 

You didn’t need to be closer to the 141.  

You didn’t even need a name, because they didn’t need you. 

“Yes, sir.” He said as he stood to attention, mumbling his acknowledgement to the Captain            as he prepared for his dismissal. 

“Final brief at 0400. Wheels up at 0500, understood?” Price barked out at the two of you. You both gave your acknowledgement and he nodded, satisfied for now. 

“Alright, dismissed.” 

Ghost made a quick exit, as though being in your presence was more than enough to make him ill. You sighed and began to move, but a hand at your shoulder stopped you. 

“Owl, don’t let him get to you. You’re a part of this team, and you’re needed on this mission. I wouldn’t send you out if I didn’t believe you needed to be there.” 

You nodded, dropping you head to pull back the tears that threatened to fall. 

“Thank you, sir. I won’t let you down.” 

“I know you won’t. Your intel has always been good. We don’t have the time to wait for the boys to bring the drives back, if they even knew what to look for, time isn’t on our side.” 

You knew that better than anyone. If only Lieutenant Riley would admit that you weren’t an incompetent civilian, maybe things would go along quicker. 

 — — — 

“Alright boys, this one should be simple, yeah? We go in, subdue any hostiles, grab the tech and get the fuck out. I don’t want any mistakes, I don’t want any problems,” Ghost’s eyes stopped at you as he said the last word, “I don’t want any bad news, understood?” He said as his voice boomed over the sound of the plane's engine. 

“Yes sir!” The group called out as one. This would be easy, as he said. You didn’t have to do too much, just follow the group and live long enough to break through the encrypted drives. From their you could relay the information back to Price and Laswell. Simple. 

Your eyes drew closed as you took in a breath, trying to centre yourself. Get in, get the drives, get out. Job done. You repeated your mantra until you fell into a fitful sleep.

You woke with a start as your name was barked out. 

Lieutenant Riley stood over you, arms crossed. An obvious scowl beneath his mask. 

“Gotten enough beauty sleep, sunshine?” 

The plane was empty, your teammates stood out on the makeshift runway, watching your change out of earshot. The late evening sun hung low on the horizon, casting long shadows into the plane.

“I’m sorry sir, I just wanted to be rested for the mission.” 

“Well, aren’t you considerate, thank you so much, Pigeon.” His voice dripped with a saccharine sarcasm that cut you to your core. You hate that he’d made a mockery of the callsign you were so fond of. You were sure other people had slept on the flight over. Why was he singling you out so cruelly? 

“Are you still on your bloody arse?” He barked out, loud enough too draw the attention of your teammates. “Sorry, sir!” you replied as you jumped up. Your body was yanked back with a start, bucking against the fastening that had kept you in your seat. Your head knocked back against the body of the plane, tilting your helmet over your eyes. 

“Oh fucking hell, Pigeon. If you get yourself killed on this bloody mission, I’ll murder you.” His hand made quick work of your seatbelt, snatching it off you in one sharp motion, sending you lurching forward.

If only you’d had the confidence to tell him off. 

If only you had the kind of easy relationship with him that he had with everyone else, one that transcended rank enough to quip back at him. 

If only he didn’t hate you. 

If only he could see you. Not just look at you scornfully, but see you. See your efforts, see your strength. 

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.” You said with your eyes focused on the floor. Your gaze could have cut two pinholes in the undercarriage of the plane. You grabbed your gear and rushed down the gangway, thankful Ghost hadn’t pointed out all the things he found wrong with your apology. With your posture, with your face, with your breathing, with your existence. 

“Alright. It’s 30 klicks to their base, but we’ll have to trek the last 5k. Johnny, you get us in, Gaz and I will clear a path while you watch our six. You,” Lieutenant Riley said with derision, “don’t die and find the drives after we’ve swept the place, understood?” You nodded sharply. 

“Alright lads, this one’s easy. Any hostiles will be eliminated on sight, in and out, home in time for Eastenders.” Soap and Gaz laughed easily at Simon’s joke. You weren’t sure if you were allowed to show any crumb of happiness in front of him. Maybe he’d yank your tongue out if you so much  as chuckled and bring it home for his dog. 

As you made your way to the jeep Soap fell into step with you. 

“Ye alright?” He asked, a gentle smile playing on his face. How could you be alright? He was always so kind to you, and Kyle always treated you with respect. Even the KorTac boys said ‘hello’, or ‘thanks for the intel’ once in a while whenever you ran into them. Ghost seemed pissed that he had to breathe the same air as you. 

A short sigh escaped before you could regain your composure, “yeah, I’m okay. It’s just… I don’t want to mess up. It’s my first time really out in the field and—” and Lieutenant Riley, your best friend and our commanding officer hates my guts and doesn’t care to hide it. “And I just want to do well.” Soap nodded, though he couldn’t really understand. He’d been a soldier since he was 18. He’d proven himself time and time again even before he ever saw active duty. His abilities were undeniable. 

You, as Ghost loved to remind you and everyone around you, were a desk jockey egg-head recruited after you’d been caught ransoming credit card companies and running stings on pedophiles with your ‘internet pals’. Caught or betrayed, the thought still plagued you, though the end result had been a job offer from the British Army in lieu of prison time. Soap and Gaz thought you were a genius, some sort of cyber Robin Hood fighting the good fight from smokey internet cafes or 6 monitor supercomputers. Captain Price saw you as a clever kid with good intentions but questionable methods. 

Ghost… well Ghost made no secret of the fact he thought you were an egg-head. An energy  drink guzzling college drop-out with a lot of free time and no common sense. A basement dweller with more waifu body pillows than real life friends. A useless kid with no place in battle, regardless of the fact that your intel was what told him where to go more times than not. 

“He doesn’t hate you, he’s just… well he’s just Ghost. He’s never worked with you, I’m sure things will change after this.” You nodded, thankful for the reassurance though you didn’t really buy much of it. As you opened the jeep door and slid into one of the back seats you noticed Ghost’s eyes were trained on you through the rearview mirror. Watching for something to pick on you for, of course. 

You held his gaze as you closed the door and dropped your gear bag between your feet. ‘That’s right Lt, I can sit down without strangling myself on the seatbelt’ you longed to say to him. You settled for holding his gaze and raising your eyebrows at him. As the jeep rumbled to life you could have sworn you heard a laugh. 

— — — 

Ghost glanced at the pistol holstered on you thigh, as well as the knife sheathed at your hip. The urge to ramble about your right to protect yourself and defend your teammates bubbled up in your chest, the citric need to bite back at him almost won. Thankfully he spoke before you did. 

“You do know how to use that, right?” He whispered to you, crouched to your right, Gaz to your left. You’d gone through basic gun training and safety as well as first aid at Captain Price’s insistence once you’d begun working more and more with the 141. A fact you were sure Ghost knew. He’d never let you carry a weapon without a direct order from Price. A direct order not to snatch it on sight and send you to sit in a corner and think about how stupid you were. 

“Of course, sir,” you quipped back. Your sarcasm was cut with anxiety. This was real. You didn’t have to kill anyone, you just had to keep up and not die. But this was so real. A gun range was nothing in comparison. The slide of the gravel beneath your boots, the heat of your comrades beside you, the dull green of the night vision. This was real. 

“Ghost, do you copy? 30 seconds to detonation.” Soap’s voice was tinny through the comm on Ghost’s shoulder. 

30 seconds? 

Seconds?!

Your heart pumped a punishing beat as the reality of it all sunk deeper and deeper. 

A hand on your knee brought you back to the moment. “Look at me,” the last voice you’d ever expect to comfort you was all that filled your ears. The surprise washed away the fear for a moment as you looked into Ghost’s eyes. 

“The second you hear the blast, stay low and follow us, okay? You’ll want to jump up, don’t.”

“Okay.” 

His dark eyes stared into you as he spoke. “Keep your weapon in your hands, keep your eyes on me, keep up, and keep calm. This is the fun part.” A low chuckled from Gaz calmed you further. 

“I’ve got your six, just focus on moving with the group, okay?” Gaz whispered beside you. 

“Okay.”

All you could do was agree, any eloquence you’d had before had long since dissipated. 

A deafening boom rang out and the urge to run flooded every nerve in your body. You watched Ghost. 

Keep your eyes on me

You focused on Ghost’s broad back as you moved with him. Focused on keeping close. On surviving. 

The next minutes were a blur of gun fire and barked out commands. The muzzle flash of the weapons around you was enough to make the night vision useless and so with shaky hands and shallow breaths you pushed the goggles up as you moved through a maze of rooms with Ghost as your guide. 

A heavy hand against your chest stopped you before you had a chance to run into your Lieutenant. 

“Gaz, now.” He barked quickly as a heavy boot made contact with the door, pushing it from the frame. Garrick fired as he moved deftly into the room, sweeping the corner as Ghost fired at a figure hunched over a laptop. 

Everything was happening too quickly. You were pushed into the room, or pulled, you couldn’t know. As your body entered your mind stayed back and watched as a figure rose from a position under the desk. Before you could even see their eyes they hit the floor with a thud. 

A wave of nausea spread through you as you moved to where they’d been, pushing the bodies away from the computer as you grabbed it and began to type a series of commands into the terminal. Your hands shook as you pushed a thumb-drive into a port and watched as your code froze the deletion process. You left that to work as you pulled open desk drawers and riffled through their contents, shovelling everything in sight into your pack. 

“Hurry up!” 

You obeyed, moving quicker as you grabbed files and thick plastic drives with greedy, shaking hands. The final drawer was locked tight. You wanted to call out for a key but shame held you tongue. You pulled at it and it held firm. Ghost could have yanked it open with one hand, you were sure. His presence in the room motivated you to think like a soldier. Think like him. 

‘I’m not useless. I’m not useless. I’m not useless.’ You chanted to yourself as you reached to you side and gripped your knife. Jamming it into a gap in the drawer you pushed your whole weight onto it and heard a click. 

Yes. You weren’t useless after all. 

“Owl! Wait!” 

With unbridled euphoria you yanked the drawer open and felt your body and mind reconnect with a violent snap. Like a spark to gas you ignited with something you couldn’t recognise. Warmth spread through your middle as you glanced down into the drawer. It was empty. 

“Oh shit.”

“Soap call in a medevac, now!” 

Why was it empty? Were they all shouting because it was empty?

Your hand dug into the wooden cube, patting around until you felt something give. You pushed up into it and heard something drop. Another hard drive. 

“Owl, Owl you need to move, now.” 

A firm hand grasped you by the shoulder and you shook it off. You bent down to pick up the drive and a white hot pain seared your abdomen. You ignored it, and with a sharp wince you grabbed the final drive. 

Why were your hands shaking so much? Was it the excitement of war?

You turned to collect the laptop but it was already in Gaz’s hands. He was shoving it into your pack as Ghost grabbed the drive in your hand and tossed it to him. 

“No! No, I have to decrypt the—”

“You have to move. Now.” Ghost retorted sharply as he angled himself to block your view of Gaz. 

When had they stripped you of your pack? 

Why was Lieutenant Riley suddenly pushing you out the door you’d all just come through?

How were you able to see your group moving through the halls? Watching the retreat from an unnatural vantage point, making note of the thick trail of something syrupy behind you. 

Was that blood? Did your sloppiness get one of them injured?

— — — 

The jeep you’d left 5 kilometres away speed into view in front of the compound you’d just sacked. 

Was it moving or were you? 

Hands pushed you into it and began pulling off the kevlar and fabric of covering your torso. 

‘Is it bad?” Soap’s voice came from the front of the vehicle. 

“No, its not too bad,” Ghost said to you rather than Soap. You craned your head down to look at the wound, but a strong hand tilted your chin away. 

“I thought I told you to keep your eyes on me, Pigeon” he said lowly as you searched his face for some clue of what was happening. His derisive diminutive sounded odd now, it was laced with something tender. 

“Sorry lieutenant, I just wanted to—” you didn’t know how to finish. 

I just wanted to see for myself? 

I just wanted to be a part of the team?

“— I just wanted to impress you. I’m sorry, sir.” You mumbled as your lids grew heavy. 

The pressure on your stomach increased as Ghost spoke to you in low whispers. “Impress me? How? By falling asleep? We’ve already talked about that, soldier. I told you to keep your eyes on me. That’s an order.” 

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.” 

— — — 

Your eyes fluttered open, catching a glimpse of a white stucco ceiling. 

Shit. 

Ghost would kill you for falling asleep again. As you tried to sit up your body barked out in protest. A dull ache blanketed your left side and pulsed through you. 

A hand pushed you back down gently. Resting for a beat on your shoulder before pulling away.

“Slow down, kid. You’ll rip your stitches out.” You knew that voice. You turned your head to look at the Lieutenant. You’d already known it was him, all that surprised you was the lack of contempt in his voice. 

You couldn’t speak. You just looked around, taking in the small makeshift clinic you’d found yourself in. 

“The hospital was too far,” Ghost said, answering the question you mind was already forming, “so they set this up in a safe house nearby.” You nodded, laying back against the pillows. “Sir? What happened?” 

You heard Lieutenant Riley sigh as you stared up at the ceiling above you. Too timid to look at him as he recounted your failures on the mission. 

“The drawer was rigged. If you’d been taller, or wider, the shrapnel that hit you would have been fatal, Owl.” 

The name drew your eyes to him before you could stop yourself. 

“I’ve graduated from Pigeon?” You asked, trying to cut the tension in the small room. He laughed,  and the sound was enough to make the pain in your abdomen dissipate. 

You’d made him laugh.

You had made Ghost laugh. 

“You got injured, and didn’t give up. That was a tough thing you did, Owl. I’m proud of you.” 

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, it took everything you had not to let them fall. A warm  on hand your head was what completely undid you. Hot tears slipped out of your closed eyes as Lieutenant Riley stroked your hair more gently than you’d ever thought a man of his size was capable of. 

“You did well, don’t worry.” 

You gathered yourself, remembering the objective of the mission. “How long was I out, sir? Has the  operation window passed?” 

He pulled his hand back slowly before he spoke. “Intel over here took a look at some of the materials before sending them back with Soap and Gaz. The boys back home will decrypt as much as they can while you’re healing up here. Doc said you’d be okay to fly within 48 hours.” 

You nodded, trying to keep your disappointment in check. You wouldn’t even get a chance to do what you were good at. 

“But,” Ghost said slowly, drawing your attention away from the pity party you’d already began throwing for yourself. “No one could make heads or tails of what was on the laptop.” 

“So its useless then?” You asked, trying to push the hurt out of your voice. 

“Oh I wouldn’t say that,” Ghost let out a low chuckle. God, you’d become addicted to that sound already. “Whatever you plugged into it before you got hurt completely stumped everyone, they said only you’d be able to retrieve anything from it.” 

A warm pride filled your chest. No one could do what you could. You weren’t useless. 

“So… unfortunately for you, Pigeon. I’ve brought you some homework while I babysit you. Are you up for it?” 

Ghost dropped the laptop onto your lap. Your thumb-drive was still plugged into it, filled with malware and viruses you’d cooked up over the years. 

You smiled at him, beaming with pride as you opened the device. “Of course, just keep your eyes on me, sir. I’ll be done in no time.” 

[skoulsons]

started crying thinking about this at 1am in bed so. ✌🏻 my writing doesn’t do the mental image I had justice so please bear with me ok i got sad and am a Bad Writer

-

Tommy gave it to her. Ellie had been asking him endless questions about Sarah that he could barely answer without cracking. Eventually the conversation was too taxing on Tommy, so he gave Ellie the picture. This is her, he’d said. She was a… beautiful kid.

It was the one of Joel with his hand over Sarah’s eyes. Both their faces were beaming and their smiles were so wide.

She didn’t think Joel could smile that wide. And Sarah? Yeah, she did have a killer smile.

Joel didn’t know Tommy gave Ellie the picture, but what caught him even more off guard was seeing Ellie admire it.

His hitched breath is what alerted Ellie to his presence. Joel made his way from the living room to the kitchen with a shaky breath and fists tight enough to draw blood from his palms.

Ellie kid the photo quickly and followed Joel, pestering him with a mix of are you okay’s and I’m sorry’s. Ellie’s concerns never landed on his ears—only the swift, fleeting sound her laugh as he covered her eyes and the dad! Shouted as he chuckled at the photo opportunity.

Sarah. Her smile. Her laugh. Her voice.

-

They don’t talk about it. At least, not until later. Not until Ellie’s curiosity got the best of her. Not until Joel had calmed down and she thought maybe.

Besides, she lost Riley. And Henry. And Sam. He’d understand, right? Thinking about her the way Ellie thinks about them? Dreaming about them?

She was his daughter, of course he did. His nightmares filled with it should’ve been me over and over again. They had to be about Sarah.

Maybe, in a way, it was selfish to ask him about her. Maybe, also, she was doing it so he could have the chance to talk about her. It couldn’t hurt, right?

“Do you still think about her?”

Joel shuffled his feet and breathed. Lying and leaving both crossed his mind, but they wouldn’t do any good. She’d come back with them again sometime later. He nodded his head. “Every day,” he said, keeping his voice steady.

Ellie nodded at the response. Really, that was all she needed. It answered her question. But, again, curiosity. What was she like? What made her laugh? Did you watch movies with her, too?

To her surprise, she’s not the one to ask the next question.

“Do you have it?”

His question surprised her, but Ellie didn’t waste a second to run upstairs, two steps at a time, and grab the photo.

When she returned, Joel’s face was in his hands. He wasn’t crying, not yet at least, but he must’ve been preparing.

Ellie wondered if he’d seen her face in full since That Day.

She sat beside him again and held the photo out. “Here,” she whispered.

He took the picture from her and held it in both his hands, his left thumb gently under Sarah’s chin.

Joel sniffed seeing her in full now. How perfect she was.

And the realization hits him way too late that all he ever did was take her for granted. Her first word, her first steps, the first time she fed herself with a fork. Her first swimming lessons and her first day of soccer practice. Their first guitar lesson together and the first time sarah cooked breakfast for him before work, just because she wanted to.

He hugged her extra tight that morning.

Every fair, museum visit and road-trip were taken for granted. Every smile and cry. Every bloody knee, twisted ankle, and calloused finger.

Joel rubbed his left thumb over her face gently and, for a brief moment, it felt like her skin. It wasn’t her face on a piece of paper anymore, it was her. The perfect, clean skin he’d washed more time than he could count. The cheeks that he’d wiped tears from so many times over. The nose he’d kissed when she was a baby. It was her.

He cried. He clutched the photo as gently as he could in one hand and cried.

Ellie was there, of course. She was pressed against his arm, her hand draped over his arm that was periodically wiping the tears from his face. His other hand was still holding tightly to the photo, his thumb occasionally brushing over her face.

And after Joel felt her the way he’d denied doing for twenty years, he talked about her more. Her beautiful smile. The way she’d always laugh at his stupid attempts at dad jokes. Her height, her room, the music she liked and how she and Tommy would gang up on Joel all turned into lengthy conversations and heartwarming memories between them.

[snowandwolves]

tis i, lengthy ask anon! first, i am in fucking awe of your planning i can't outline for shit so i bow to your mastermindness

second on behalf of all your fans RELEASE THE BITS (only if you're comfortable of course but i for one will gladly eat whatever scraps from your writing table)(i'm not begging)(maybe i am)

more qs! if you choose, you never have to answer really truly madly:

re: your planning: did you create like character sheets for each of them..? what about outfits or location references?

every author seems to have an opinion about dialogue tags - do you actively try not to use "says"? (i love both approaches just curious your thoughts)

would Bea have given (I was going to write "custody of" lol) the bookstore to Lilith?

ok so we know Ava developed a ... sleeve? kink - what about Bea?

i'm slowly going thru other fics - what's been different about writing avatrice for you?

hello again, lengthy ask anon, i need you to know i’m about to develop a soft spot for you 😂 as for the bits, i’ll see which ones are mildly ok for public viewing and rb this ask with a screenshot if i find one 💀

on to the questions!

1. yes, i definitely had to have character sheets for them and the side characters too cos i thought that if i’m gonna write in ava’s pov alone, then i’m gonna need to make sure that everyone else has a clear perspective or purpose in the story that even ava doesn’t know. outfits nope 😂 but location yes! i have stared at v many photos and maps and weather forecasts of the location 😭 i may have a screw loose prolly

2. i’m not overly concerned about it, but i do try to space it out. also??? i didn’t actually know that there’s a thing about dialogue tags??? 😂 i was just actively trying not to make the prose too repetitive lmao

3. i think so, yes! lilith was already managing it while she was at the lighthouse and every other time she had to go away for it, so i thought it’d make sense for lilith to take over. with help from camila of course because lilith and customer service…

4. A SLEEVE KINK YES 😂 for bea, i think… ava and a hammer, ava and a saw, ava and just carpentry in general so an ava as jesus kink ig??? 💀 i’m of the opinion that ava can prolly make everything she does look silly-hot so RIP bea

5. definitely the depth of the characters. the show gave us so much material to work with for avatrice that i really couldn’t help but sink my teeth into everything. this is why sixth to the ninth hour exists 😂

hope that answers your questions this round! and again, thank you so much for this, anon 💙

[therealslimshakespeare]

I’ve got some Whole Man questions and I hope it’s okay because it’s a story I truly enjoy but I lack history knowledge and I’m not as smart as you.

1. (Not a historical question) I imagine Rosey maybe having a baby face despite what she’s been through, like maybe when she smiles people are reminded how young she is. Any accuracy to how you envision her?

2. Does the Captain have an STD of sorts for real or is he wrongly diagnosed under Colonel’s orders?

3. And if he does carry an STD, is Rosey okay with it being passed to her? The latest chapter when she asks him if he is refusing to sleep with her in fear of getting her sick how exactly did all that work back then? Is he sick like Aida?

4. What exactly is the Captain ill from?

5. Is Rosey saving him money now that she’s running his books or is she still trying to figure out exactly what stretches his money so thin?

I’m sure I’ve got more that are currently escaping my mind so I might pop back in later with them if that’s alright! Like I said I love this story I just get a bit lost sometimes! Not because of your writing but because of my lack in knowledge!

I am soooo glad to be asked these sorts of questions, I could talk your ears off about this particular story and as it’s rather complex and uh, vague??? i do sometimes wonder what confusion I may have sewn at times with the unfolding and it’s nice to have a check as to wether those confusions are being unsnarled properly. Also, I am a history nerd, everyone has their areas of passion and study and excellence, I’m just so glad this series caught your affection anyway.

1. The baby faced softness: oh yes, very accurate to how I imagine her, a rather stern and unconventionally pretty resting face that belongs to a woman who has been through hell and deprivation rather than the young fresh girl she ought to be. But then her smile can wrought a complete metamorphosis in softening her face, I like to think her teasing little looks she sends Captain Presley the more confident she becomes around him have a similar effect of making her look younger and arch. I never wanted to give her an full faceclaim as in my mind she’s very much original. I also wanted y’all to feel free to imagine as you like, it did start as a reader insert, after all. But here are a few gals from ye olden days that resonate with my vision of her. mainly the third, I see her AS rosey.

2. Mm, ok yeah so, it’s rather likely he had one? At some point? But the entire fuss made over it and the credit it’s given for ALL his ailments is entirely fabricated. And not out of poor doctoring but an intentional (by the colonel) misdiagnoses to keep him both in thrall to the drugs and shamed regarding the very cause of his current misery. I have always intended he have something like malaria or the like, which is borne by biting insects and can cause damage to vital organs permanently in those who survive the initial illness and often flares as a chronic fevered illness, effecting the liver and blood and mind. There were treatments already available for it back then but chiefly belonged to indigenous people and the brilliant minds of the medical system at that time had no desire to learn from “primitive” people who actually lived and survived amongst the most afflicted areas -shocker. 🙄 I guess I sorta answered your fourth question here lo

3. Yeah so this will be interesting to tackle, as I fully believe he is concerned with passing anything to her although his genuine reasoning is in regards to waiting for marriage. As for Rosey? I think she already doubts that’s his full trouble but then she is not very educated on any of these conjugal things or the side effects of prostitution. The captain has watched, with Aida and others, the slow or rapid decline of so many succumbing to his erstwhile occupation -in fact, his chief tolerance for Aida and providing for her is a guilty sort of attempt at charity with the hopes that if he is kind to her and merciful, the same mercy might be granted him when he declines similarly. A bit of a bargain with God. So Rosey is perhaps not as concerned as she should be, but that may work in their favor if he’s misdiagnosed. Also, back then -and this is criminally tragic- plenty of women caught and died from stds given them by their philandering husbands, men who weren’t “disreputable” in any polite sense but did indulge in prostitutes and came back to their unsuspecting (or worse suspecting but helpless) wives and infected them. This even resulted in congenital infection, many babies died from their fuckwit father’s spreading this to their wives. All of this is an impolite history Rosey would be unaware of but Captain Presley would be keenly cognizant of.

3. Rosey is trying. 😂 Boy is she trying to save and to play detective but honestly? I think we already know where the money is going just as we know where the real Elvis’ money chiefly went -to Parker. While Elvis is left with his half share that must also pay for the boat, the coal, the wages, much of the bribes, multiple dependents off the boat and of course, his occasional bouts of outrageous generosity and indulgence in fine things.

[rriavian]

5 and 9 for Corintheus! <3

Thank you!! Ok I am incapable of answering anything succinctly but please enjoy my ramble :)

5. What was the moment for you that made you ship them? (If you do)

This is a very good question! I’d watched most of season 1 not really being sold on any pairing in particular, but seeing potential in a lot of interactions. Corintheus was a ‘hmm, could be interesting’ right up until we get to the confrontation at the convention. Before then Dream isn’t really that bothered by the Corinthian at all (which is hilarious given how obsessed the Corinthian is with escaping him) but in that conversation we see a depth of emotion in them both, a discussion of motive, that belies their canon behaviour. Not necessarily a moment where the masks come off, but one that is very very intimate, filled with this yearning on both sides that is incredibly compelling.

It was subversive—I’d almost expected Dream to be dismissive, to deal with him quickly so he could move on to the bigger threat (Rose as the vortex), but he wasn’t. He paused, explained, showed disappointment and pain but also love. And the Corinthian acted far less dismissive of Dream than he’d been all season—dismissive in the sense of just wanting to be rid of him, of not caring what he thought—revealing his own yearning, his own pain, and the same love.

As a scene it’s fascinating, and instantly made me want to write something.

Because it’s the first, and really the only, time in the entire show we really see Dream being this honest. The same with the Corinthian. Maybe it’s because they knew it would end with the Corinthian’s destruction, so there were no real stakes, but Dream isn’t as raw with any other character. The audience learns a lot about both characters in this scene, but it’s not just being shown to us, both are (finally) showing it to each other. As much as they are meeting as foes, the scene doesn’t limit them to that, has this intimacy Dream doesn’t really have with anyone else.

This is getting a bit long but…yeah. The convention sealed it for me because it revealed just how complex and layered their dynamic is, and it was irresistible. I couldn’t not want to explore it as much as I could :)

9. Which of the characters in the pairing is your favourite?

This is probably obvious but…Dream. Not that I don’t like the Corinthian! As a character he’s very interesting, and the more I write him the more I love his character, but I can’t help but be like sweetie your arguments would be stronger if you didn’t kill people. Like I get you sticking it to your creator but…as your first act of freedom was to murder a guy in the street I think Dream has a very good point about not letting you do that.

The Corinthian was fascinating to me when I watched the show because both me and the person I watched it with were like ‘he is objectively attractive but his actions are so vile I can’t find him hot’. I know this puts me in the minority but every time he was on screen I was just…unsettled, concerned for whoever he shared a scene with because this is an obvious predator please be careful. I’m asexual so that might have something to do with it, but I think it was a really nuanced part of Boyd’s performance where he could be such a compelling lure to those on screen (with me completely believing why they’d be taken in) while as the audience I’m like ‘my danger senses are screaming at me’.

I’ve accidentally rambled in the wrong direction. Oops! But Dream is my favourite for many reasons.

I think it’s best demonstrated by that moment in hell where Dream has the odds stacked against him, the simple equation of probability giving him no real chance, and though you know he can’t lose you don’t know how he can win. Yet he looks up and says ‘hope’. Yet he wins anyway. It’s a character defining moment for me—more than anything else, more than his powers, more than his tools, this is what Dream is. He is still wholly and completely himself even when he’s at his lowest. The battle wasn't just being able to think of a concept it's being able to become it.

And despite all that has happened to him Dream still can.

[unwelcome-ozian]

hey so i have a question and idk if this is an ask youre ok with answering, if not its fine- but so a week or so ago my mom offhandedly made a really weird really specific joke about me being fed balloons to traffic drugs as a child, and then immediately before i even said anything, started really aggressively saying she was joking and when i joked that it was a little suspicious that she was so aggressive about clarifying it was a joke, she said (slight paraphrasing) “well i thought i should say it because otherwise you’d be like ‘oh i don’t remember my childhood, did that actually happen?,,’” and then basically called me crazy by comparing me to a really notoriously eccentric friend i have, and when i called her out on it she accused me of being the one who was calling him (and myself) crazy, then when i said she was acting weird she started getting really flustered and it was super awkward and she was over explaining in a way she only does when she’s lying or trying to cover her ass, she kept giving me reasons that i wasn’t a drug mule as a child, and then she left extremely quickly and unnaturally after the whole interaction. I don’t have any memories of this, but the whole thing left me feeling extremely uneasy in a way i usually am not. I felt like I was in danger the rest of the night and even ended up sleeping with a weapon, which to be fair is a feeling i’ve had before but it’s never been exactly like this. I really felt like i found something out that i wasn’t supposed to, and that they would kill me for it. i do have ocd and this could’ve just been that, but it was weird. it felt more real and ive been very off balance since this, feeling very unsafe everywhere i go. i have a weapon by my bed at all times now just in case, but i have no idea why i am doing this because i have no memory of having any reason to. 

im very polyfragmented (dont know why or what caused it, know i experienced some kind of severe childhood abuse but generally don’t remember anything from childhood before age 10) and i’ve been splitting much more than usual since this, idk why.

I have been badly triggered by mention of organized crime and drug rings in the past but i assumed it was just because it was a heavy topic. I also have symptoms and vague memories of csa, as well as csem/csam. some of my alters are intensely triggered by the word magazine, i dont know why.

i am having trouble getting this out, i feel like my mind is trying to stop me if that makes any sense,  i feel like im sealing. my fate by typing this. i dont think i am but its a very heavy feeling. i just want to know if this is something i should actually be concerned about, or if i am just crazy and an attention seeking liar making up false stories for pity. my parents dont seem capable of anything like this at all, and i know i at least had a regular side of my life as a child with friends and school and stuff, but for some reason I’m scared and have been scared since my mom mentioned it, and i just need to know if this anything i should be worried about, or look into, or anything. if theres a possibility i experienced something awful and don’t remember it at all. its been really bugging me and scaring me for a bit,

im sorry this is a really long confusing ask, youre free to delete it. my mind is quite jumbled. sorry

No worries about the length of the ask. I want to assure you that you can write as much as you feel comfortable with.

I agree with you, it is an odd joke that your mother made. There is a saying that behind a joke there is some truth in it. 

Ultimately you know your mother. Does she often turn things around on you when you have disagreements? From what you described it sounds like gas-lighting.

Feeling safe is so important. I understand the need/feeling/desire to sleep with a knife. Feels safe, I get it.  My question is, who are “ they”? Who would try to kill you?

Which leads me back to safety. If you are physically safe, which only you can answer, and have been then you are likely safe.  If not, what things do you feel you are able to do to work towards safety?

There are parts in your system who do remember the abuse and what occurred. With time perhaps they will share those things.

Take your time in deciding what you want to do. The choice is yours to make. There is something awful that occurred that led to you living with DID.

Take care,

Oz

[theragamuffininitiative]

2, 6, 10, 20 and 22 for unfinished fic asks!

hiiiii!

2. How did you get the idea to write this? [Based on the other questions, I'm gonna talk about my urban fantasy novel here] As best as I can remember, the inspiration for Cloy came from 1) the part in Bandstand where Julia says "I don't need saving!" and Donny says "yeah, well maybe I do" and 2) Needtobreathe's song "Banks" and 3) the ending of Jessica Day George's Dragon Slippers, and 4) a couple random pinterest pins including an animated gif of a human!Starscream from Transformers I guess?? and something from the first season of Nikita??, and lots of stuff I had no pre-existing context for and hodgepodged together. 😂

6. Is there any specific ship you're planning to include? Ok, I don't ship much and I definitely don't write romance for the sake of it, but this story has a very important romance between the two protagonists, River and Captain. [sudden giggling over how their names basically suggest a ship anyways] Anyways, I ship them so hard, and they're so good for each other, and I put them through so much. 😭 The dynamic can definitely be found in the NTB song from the first question.

10. If unpublished, can you show a sneak peek of what you've written?

"Why am I here?” Tyler frowned. “You don’t remember.” “No, I don’t, that’s why I’m asking –” “No, that’s what I meant. You’re here because you don’t remember. You were attacked. You lost some of your memory. You were awake when Professor Lewis brought you here… you don’t remember that either?” Tyler looked as though he were concentrating on Captain’s answer, as if it were suddenly not a casual check-up, but a report he had to give. Captain frowned, thinking hard. “I think…" Something itched at the back of his mind. “Mathen brought me here after… after the hospital?” Tyler grinned, relaxing a little. “Yeah, the hospital.” “But why was I…” Captain looked down at his arms and suddenly noticed the skin was scraped and raw. A wide bandage had been wrapped around his left forearm and horrifying purple bruises completely encircled both of his wrists. He sat down hard on the bed. “What…” Fear stabbed at his gut, twisting his insides. He thought he was going to throw up. “Where did…” He looked back up at Tyler, who was staring at the marks as well, but shook himself and met Captain’s gaze. “I don’t understand.” Tyler's brow furrowed with concern. “I’m going to call Professor Mathen and tell him you’re awake. Can I leave you here, you’re alright for a minute?” He seemed afraid Captain might do something unpredictable and insane if he left him alone. Captain shook his head slowly. “Please, go call him. Is there anyone else here?” “No, sir. Just us. I’ll be right back.” And, with that, Tyler turned and sprinted off, his hand already going to his pocket to dig out a cell phone before he was even out of view of the door, which he left cracked open. The electric light of the hall was comforting and Captain appreciated Tyler’s thoughtfulness, or perhaps absentmindedness, for leaving the door open. He looked down at his hands again, trying to comprehend what had happened and why he couldn’t remember. Panic escaped his lungs in a sharp exhale, immediately forcing him to breathe in again - a sort of desperate gasp to fill his body with oxygen again. The gasp, the intake of fresh sweet air, brought a stab of recollection to him and if he hadn’t already been sitting down he would have staggered under its blow. It wasn’t a memory exactly, but like the feeling of realizing after a long night of troubled sleep, that all the trouble had been because of a dream. There was no memory of the dream itself, just the idea of having had the dream in the first place, and whatever he had been feeling in the dream. But whatever this was, it had not been a dream. Dreams didn't leave bruises around his wrists. You were attacked, Tyler said. Again, he thought he was going to throw up. The echo of memory passed as soon as it had come and he sat on the edge of the bed in the silent room trying to catch hold of the last thing he did remember. What had happened to him?

20. Give a vague description of something that will happen without revealing too much. [I wanna say something funny and cleverly vague here but have no braincells, just gonna share the little logline/teaser/synopsis I have.] "The worlds of fae and humankind are collapsing in on themselves, as a half-fae daughter of war and the scientist assigned to test her magic must choose to save their own in the division, or lose everything together."

22. Will this fic include more angst or more fluff? Probably more angst. Bit of world-ending stuff going on. But not devoid of fluff. 😊

[thestarsarecool]

Paul McCartney Interview in Q Magazine: Cash for Questions. January 1998 Issue.

Hi, all! A photo of one page of this has been around on tumblr for a while (here), but I’ve always wanted to read the full thing. Some lovely soul on Google Groups in 1997 decided to transcribe the full interview (here), so now I’m uploading it so you can read it. Hooray!

Q. When you first wrote a song with John Lennon, did you realise you would play one of the biggest parts in rock 'n' roll? (Michael McConnell, Crawley, West Sussex)

A. Obviously not. But even with all the so-called "historical" events that followed, you're just too inside it all, too busy doing it to realise anything's "historical". You just get on with it. I'm not a great ponderer. Some people would say that's a mistake but it's just the way I am. It's quite cool not to always get the overall picture because it leaves something to be found out. The musicologists get paid to discover the differences between me and John. I'm only just beginning to see it now, based probably on their analysis. So John is often one note, I'm often more melodic. (McCartney is thinking especially of Ian McDonald's book Revolution in the Head, where he describes the ace partnership in contrasts: Lennon's method is "harmonic, dissonant", McCartney's that of the "natural melodist".) It might sound amazing but we never spotted that when we were writing. We just did our thing. But it is kind of apparent when you bother to analyse it.

Q. If John Lennon could come back for a day, how would you spend it with him (Mark Wilson, Deeside, Flintshire)

A. In bed.

Q. Were you ever envious that Brian Epstein didn't fancy you? (Nick Gibson, London) 

A. No, I didn't mind. We just used to go to these clubs at night and wonder why there were so many men. It was OK. Brian was very cool about his side to things. I think the nearest any of us got to it was the John-going-to-Spain thing (it inspired the movie, The Hours And The Times) and I'm not sure what the strength of all that was. I think it was power play on John's part. But Brian kept his private life aside. He kept it out of our faces (pause, possibly for effect). He kept it out of mine, anyway.

Q. What were the last records you bought? (Chris Timms, Harrogate)

A. The Prodigy's The Fat Of The Land, Radiohead's OK Computer and Chopin's Nocturnes.

Q. How do you feel about all the animosity between you and Oasis right now? (Christina Vellano, Syracuse, New York, USA)

A. There is none as far as I'm concerned. What happened was I'd said, Good group, good singer, good songwriters. But people asked me about it so much that one time I decided to take it further and say that they don't mean anything to me. I am not related to Oasis. I wish them good luck and everything. But my kids mean something to me, John Lennon means something to me, but Oasis ....

Q. Who would you pick to play with in your dream six-piece band? (Alan Thatcher, Essex) 

A. Dream? So we're into fantasy, aren't we? Ringo, John, George, that's three. Me. Jimi Hendrix. That makes lots of guitarists, so Little Richard on keyboards.

Q. With Wings, did you feel pressurised to live up to The Beatles? (Andrew Williams, Neath)

A. Yes, it was a case of "follow that!". Impossible to do. Looking back on it, it's a lot better than I thought, though some of it is just not PLAYED as well as The Beatles. My son (James, co-worker on McCartney's last pop album, Flaming Pie) plays a lot of Wings, so I'm re-listening, and there's good shit that I'd forgotten about. A lot of the lyrics were off the wall, drug stimulated. Things like "Soily - the cat in the satin trousers says its oily". What was I on? I think the answer is stimulants.

Q. Do you still support the legislation of cannabis? (Grahame Woods, Northwood, Middlesex)

A. I would make a distinction between legalising and decriminalising. I'm in favour of the latter. The problem is that jails are stuffed full of kids doing what a lot of people do. Why stuff the jails with young kids? Plus it's one of the best places to score. I remember when I got busted in Japan, nobody made the slightest effort to rehabilitate me (laughs). Just stuck me in a box for nine days. Obviously you come out and you are fairly resentful.

Q. Do you roll a wicked joint? (Steve Kline, Bury)

A. I have nothing to say in answer to that question, m'lud. I wasn't even at the venue.

Q. The critics have been harsh on your solo work. Did this ever discourage you? (Robert Hemauer, Madison, Wisconsin, USA)

A. Yeah, sure, but you don't let it kill you. It's a difficult one, because it's never cool for someone to tell you you're shit. Many people through history were damned by the critics of their own time - Cezanne, Van Gogh, Stravinsky, all great painters! Ha ha!

Q. We'd like to see your paintings but can't get to the exhibition in Germany (McCartney unveils his work for the first time in Siegen, Germany, next year). Any thoughts about putting your paintings on "tour", or publishing a book of them? (Kathy Goodman, San Diego, CA, USA)

A. A difficult one. If you're a so-called celebrity - like Bowie, Anthony Quinn, Tony Curtis - and you exhibit any art, inevitably, people are not going to think of you as a real painter. Gallery owners come up to me and offer to give me exhibitions. I say, You haven't seen my pictures, and they say, It doesn't matter. Well, it does to me. Otherwise, it's just trading on the name. However, this guy from Germany came over, looked at all my paintings, seems to like them. He's telling me what they're all about.

Q. You've done so many things - classical, films, music, art, drugs - is there anything left you might have a go at? (Tim Bowler, Swansea)

A. The thing is how reluctant I've often been to have a go. I think we were brought up pretty repressed. Brought up to be seen and not heard, to stay in your place, particularly a working class thing. And I think - I hope - with The Beatles, we got rid of a lot of that. With the painting, for instance, it was Willem de Kooning who liberated me. I used to go to his studio, took in one of my paintings, said, Hey Bill, I hope you don't mind but can you tell me what it is? (Affects American drawl) "Oh, looks like a couch." Well it looked like a purple mountain to me. And he says, "Well, whatever." Here's one of the greats, his works go for one million, and it was great to see how little bullshit he was bringing to it all. It's really important to explode these myths that surround the arts, music, painting. It's Wizard of Oz time - so many myths, and it's often just a little man behind the screen. The paraphernalia that surrounds them gets in the way. Often you meet leaders in their field and they have none of that. I remember asking a great painter - Peter Blake, maybe - for some advice once, and he said "Just paint a lot". Similar to my approach to music.

Q. How do you know when a song's finished? (Joyce Slavik, Palatine, Illinois)

A. It's full up. You've answered all of your questions. Normally, I start following a thread: "Eleanor Rigby picks up the rice ... " The thread might come out of nowhere, and I follow it and complete it, like a crossword puzzle. When the crossword is full up, the song is finished.

Q. What's more embarrassing: writing Hi Hi Hi or Say Say Say? (Tien Vu, Costa Mesa, California)

A. (Weighs up pros and cons). Say Say Say.

Q. Why did you give such extensive interviews for an authorised biography (Paul McCartney: Many Years From Now) instead of writing an autobiography? (Deena Hochberg, Southampton, Pennsylvania)

A. I don't think I'm a writer. I've never been moved to do it. You have to have a pretty big fire in the belly to do something as big as that. I fancy music more. I'm happier writing in songs rather than in prose, or poetry. Though I wrote something that was never published about the time I got busted in Japan - for my kids. Because I knew one day they'd say, "Hey dad, what was it like, nine days in a Tokyo jail?". So I had a mate of mind, who did all our printing, knock up a few copies, one for each of the kids.

Q. I'd like to know if Sir Paul sings in the shower, and if so, what does he sing? (Jennifer Nash, Bursville, Minnesota)

A. It's normally the bath. I prefer a good bath. And the answer's Firestarter - "I'm a firestarter, de-de-de-de-dera."

Q. As a kid you used to play pranks at school by throwing balloons filled with something "worse than water". If you had one of those balloons right now who would you like to hit with it? (Brett Yuskiewicz, Leipzig, Germany)

A. Jonathan King. He's a prat from way back.

Q. Which football team did/does each Beatle support? (WC Chan, Maryland, USA)

A. None of us were big footie types. We weren't very sporty, unlike other groups who were always having knock-arounds. My dad was an Everton fan, which I was most of my life. But then Liverpool started playing well, and Everton didn't, so I took the unprecedented move of supporting them both. It's not allowed, I know, but there you go.

Q. For years, you've claimed it's you in the Walrus costume in the Magical Mystery Tour film. But watching the footage shows that for it to be you, you and John would have had to exchange all your clothes. Are you winding us up, or have you not watched the film in 30 years? (Dorothy Northcutt, Tucker, Georgia) 

A. The big one. Very good question. I tell you what it was. In the stills we had taken, I was the one with the Walrus head on - in the film it's different. So John then immortalised it in Glass Onion, "I've got news for you all, the walrus was Paul". Obviously at the time you don't care, it's just a Walrus head. You don't realise years later people like our friend from Georgia will analyse it.

Q. What is the quality of each of the other Beatles that you like(d) the best about? (S. Breggles, Richmond)

A. All of them - musical talent. All of them - honesty. Ringo -funny, and kind hearted. George - straightforward and open. John - witty with a soft centre, or maybe hard with a soft centre.

Q. Do the copulating beetles on the sleeve of Ram (1970) stand for F**k The Beatles? (Luc Van de Wiele, Wemmel, Belgium)

A. It happened to be a picture Linda had taken. We couldn't resist it just because of the way it looked. She'd caught these two beetles f**king, and then the significance hit us. We saw that pun, yeah, thought why not?

Q. Was there ever a third Lennon song for Anthology 3? (Jake Lennington, Rush City, MN, USA)

A. There was, but George didn't like it. The Beatles being a democracy, we didn't do it.

Q. I have a Beatles t-shirt which I bought from The Grapes (celebrated Liverpool pub). I was told the band are pictured in their favourite seats - adjacent to the Ladies where you would often catch a glimpse of the girls changing for an evening at The Cavern. True? (Alan Tomkins, Goring, West Sussex)

A. I hope so. It SOUNDS true. Had there been an opportunity to spot the girls changing, I'm sure we would have sat there.

Q. If you hadn't been a musician, what do you think you would have been? (Tony Carter, Manchester)

A. The only thing I could have probably qualified for was teaching. So I might have been an English teacher.

Q. Does it do your head in - stuff like the handwritten lyrics to Getting Better selling for $249,000 at Sothebys? (Peggy Robinson, Trinant, Gwent)

A. It's the price of fame - literally. You scribble them on the back of an envelope, and it gets to be famous. People want it, so it becomes a desirable object. Like Mozart's bog paper, which is another highly desirable object, apparently. More valuable obviously if it's been used.

Q. What is the inscription on the ID bracelet you wear? (Rachel Hyland, West Harford, Connecticut)

A. It says Paul - for when I forget who I am.

Q. How does it feel to have a star named after you (the christening courtesy of American astronomy fans)? (John Sales, Barry, Glamorgan)

A. Really cool. The good thing is that as you get on, your fans get on too. And some of them are pretty swotty. Like the people who started Apple, they were just Beatles fans, hence the name. You don't sit around looking at the sky, trying to find it, but it's like getting a very nice birthday present. I'm not religious, I don't believe in any one system - I sort of think the universe is basically benevolent and we f**k it up - but I am spiritual. I saw Stephen Hawking on TV the other night, and he was saying that we are made of the same stuff as the stars. Which is great. We are all stardust, luv.

Q. What do you want written on your gravestone? (Tom Mangold, Exeter) 

A. Here lies Gracie Fields. Anything to keep people away.

Q. Hey, is it true you are dead, and if you are, what is it like? (L.A. Patterson, Hamlet, North Carolina)

A. Yes. And it's very interesting. It's a very interesting afterlife.

[skellebonez]

Celestial Crossing (A MoonStone, SWKxChang'e, ship fic): Chapter 2- Would You Consider?

So… this is now a multichapter fic! There are just too many thoughts about these two and this au NOT to make it a long ongoing fic at this point. There will be some stuff posted out of order, as this will be much more chill than my Bunny Tang fic, but every chapter will be noted on where it takes place in the timeline in the start of a chapter (or in author notes). The fic's rating has also gone up on AO3 (G-T) because this story is touching upon a lot of heavier topics (this particular chapter has a soft warning in the tags here).

There is also a lot of nuance in their relationship I want to explore in future chapters, as I am intending to write SWK as demiromantic/demisexual in this particular au.

I hope you enjoy!

AO3 Link.

It’d been over a year.

Sun Wukong couldn’t believe that, but it was true. It had to be, the calendar and constellations he could see from the moon base window said so. And as much as he was the Great Sage, Equal to Heaven, who was he to question the stars themselves in regards to the passage of time?

Especially when they brought him to someone as wonderful as they had?

He couldn’t help but smile, thinking about how he took a chance on this. Took a chance on coming back up here, on seeing if she would talk to him, on seeing if she would give him a chance.

He knew it was a long shot, given her past. He would have been completely accepting if she had told him no, that they should remain friends, because he was always in want of new friends now that he was back to leaving the mountain again. He couldn’t bug MK and his friend group solely forever after all.

But she took a chance on saying yes as well. And now, here they are, two people who were tied to their past for so long taking a chance on each other.

And well. It had been a year.

They must have been doing something right.

He never thought he would ever get close enough to someone to feel this connected to him after his years of isolation, but somehow he did. Somehow she accepted him for all his weird little quirks, like how half of everything he ate needed to have peaches incorporated somehow, and respected all of his boundaries and needs.

Things were… well, he hesitated to say perfect.

But it was close.

“How do you feel about kids?”

Sun Wukong didn’t realize it was possible for him to choke on air the way he did, but he was glad it at least wasn’t the bite of mooncake that he had swallowed just a few seconds earlier.

“What… do you mean? Exactly?” He chanced slowly.

“Have you ever considered having any before?” Chang’e asked, elbows deep into some of the machinery within her factory (a normal sight given everything regularly needed maintenance from time to time).

Sun Wukong didn't know he could make the sound he did, in place of an actual answer.

Apparently Chang'e and all of her bunny-bots didn't know either, given the concerned looks they all shot him.

"I mean…" Sun Wukong said as he tugged at his shirt. "I… I can't say I've never thought of… kids… I just… I can't really… have any? Maybe. Maybe?"

"... you can't have kids?"

"I'm a rock,” Sun Wukong said quickly. “I… haven’t, you know, tried. But everyone I asked told me I probably couldn’t. I-”

“I’m sorry,” Chang’e said quickly, pulling her arms out of the machine and closing it back up before turning to him fully. “I shouldn’t have sprung the question on you so suddenly, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s ok,” Sun Wukong assured quickly, rushing over to hand her a cloth to wipe her hands on. “You didn’t know this was something I was… uh…”

“Sensitive about?” She offered.

“Not really that,” he said with a shrug. “I just… I love kids, actually! And if anyone asked I would probably just have said that. The whole time we were on the journey I would play with any kids we came across, make sure they were taken care of, that kind of stuff. But I’ve also never actually dated anyone before, let alone thought of having kids with them. So…”

“You were caught off guard?” Chang’e guessed, handing the dirty cloth to a bunny bot once her hands were clean. 

“Yeah,” he admitted with a laugh. “I’ve asked a couple of the other Gods if they thought I could before, like some of the fertility ones, out of curiosity. But they didn’t think it was possible. And I kinda resigned myself to that when I thought I would never be lucky enough to find someone to be with, either.”

“Well, both of us were wrong on the second front,” Chang’e said with a wistful laugh. “Not every immortal is lucky enough to have a second chance after pining over their lost first love like I am.”

Sun Wukong couldn’t help but watch as her face fell into something… not quite sad, but almost nostalgic. No doubt remembering her first love. She’d told him a lot about Houyi, not in a comparing sort of way but just to tell him. And he listened to every second, wanting to honor the memory of him with her. He had seemed like quite the man.

How Chang’e had fallen for him, someone so different from her first love, Sun Wukong still had not been able to hazard a guess.

“I think I’m the lucky one here,” he said with a smirk. “Not everyone gets to earn the love of THE greatest pastry chef outside of this world, after all.”

“Oh you stop that!” Chang’e said with a chuckle as they made their way out of the factory. “I’m the ONLY pastry chef ‘outside of this world’, Monkey Man.”

“See, greatest!”

The two of them laughed as they walked through her garden, watching the bunny robots go about their patrols to make sure the vegetation was growing healthily. Until…

“Can I ask you something else about kids?” Chang’e asked slowly.

“Sure.”

“Have you ever thought about what you would want out of them?” She asked. “Like… what kind of people you would want them to be.”

“I’d want them to be… happy,” Sun Wukong eventually answered. “However they would turn out, whatever they end up being… I’d want them to be happy.”

“That’s a pretty good answer,” Chang’e said wistfully. “You ever think about adopting?”

“Does MK count?”

The laughter that Chang’e let out was like bells.

“Sure, he counts,” she said with a smile. “He’s a pretty great kid, hero status bias aside.”

“22 years and still a baby to us,” Sun Wukong said with a chuckle. “Though, don’t let him know I said that. He’s developed a good left hook.”

The unspoken questions that his Not Quite Wife asked lingered between them, the Great Sage more than capable of picking up on context clues.

‘Would you have kids with me?’

Would you.

~

Sun Wukong was heading to Pigsy’s Noodles.

He needed to get his mind off of this. It was… it was a lot.

He didn’t know how to process it.

He just needed a bowl of noodles and maybe a quick sparring session with  everyone’s favorite local hero/delivery boy/sucessor.

At least, that’s what he thought he would be doing.

Until we walked in to see MK tossing a small child up in the air, the rest of the shop empty save for the namesake chef in the kitchen (not even a Tang in sight, strange).

“... what… did I miss?” Sun Wukong asked as an announcement, freezing when the kid pointed at him midair.

“MONKEY KING!” The kid yelled at the top of his lungs, letting out an oomph when MK caught him on the fall back down. “It’s Monkey King, MK, it’s him!”

“Yeah it is, Fenhua,” MK said with a laugh as he held him. “That’s my mentor. Monkey King, this is Fenhua. His mom’s a regular here and needed someone to look after him while she went to a doctor’s appointment.”

“You offer free babysitting to your regulars?” Sun Wukong asked in confusion as the kid squirmed in MK’s hold. He looked to be barely 4 years old, maybe even barely 3 and a half. He wasn’t great with kid ages.

He sat down at the bar, chuckling at the sigh and shake of the head he got from Pigsy.

“No, Wukong, we don’t,” Pigsy said with joking annoyance. “We do favors for people who need it and who have been coming here since the kid was born, though, because they’re friends at this point. Usual?”

“Actually, could I have some of your signature noodles? Vegan?” Sun Wukong asked apologetically. “I wanna be here for a while.”

Pigsy shot him a look before shrugging. “Not a problem, give me the extra time.”

“I’ve got plenty todAY!” Sun Wukong jumped, looking back at the lump that had launched himself at the monkey’s back. “Hi?”

“MK said you can eat metal!” Fenhua asked excitedly. “Do you!?”

“I said he could, not that he liked to!” MK said as he rushed over to gently pull the kid off his mentor. "Sorry, he… really likes hearing about you, since he knows I'm your student."

"And did you say mostly good things about me?" He asked with a smirk. "You didn't tell him I ATE KIDS did you!?"

As he said this he swooped down, grabbing Fenhua and pretending to eat his arm as he sat him on his knee.

The kid screamed loudly, offset by his just as loud laughter.

"He said you're the STRONGEST ever!" Fenhua explained as he bounced on the sage's leg excitedly. "He-he said you beat up a WHOLE world!"

"Not the whoooole world," MK explained with a laugh. He moved to a table, grabbing some papers and bringing them over. "The celestial realm."

"See… cerl… seelastial realm!"

"Pretty close, kid, not bad!" Sun Wukong said with a chuckle. "That's a hard word for… hmm… how old are you?"

"4 and 20 days!" Fenhua said confidently.

"Such a big boy!" Sun Wukong said in exaggerated amazement. "You're almost the age I was when I first went to school."

"I start in a few months," the child said as he went off on a tangent about how he would be getting ready for it.

Sun Wukong listened to every word, making sure to show interest when appropriate to keep the kid talking excitedly.

He and MK showed him the papers, art they had been working on before Fenhua had asked MK for "air bounces" as they apparently called them.

All the while this was backed by the sound of Pigsy cooking up his signature noodles. Sun Wukong could have sworn he heard some snorts and chuckles from the chef, particularly when the Sage made some particularly stupid jokes.

It didn't take long for the kid to wind down, slowly yawning and rubbing his eyes. MK explained that he had already eaten and, well, it was past nap time for him actually.

And before he could move him, Fenhua just.

Fell asleep.

On his lap.

While Sun Wukong was holding him.

"You look practically parental," Pigsy said as he laid out the immortal’s order and handed another to MK. "Take this a few streets over to the art store for me, will ya? I have a feeling Fenhua isn’t going anywhere and it’s the only order we’ve had in the last half hour.”

“Sure thing! See you in a sec, Monkey King!”

Before he could voice his protest, MK rushed off to do his delivery job, leaving the immortal with a sleeping child and a smirking chef.

“You sent him out on purpose.”

“I wanted to talk to ya alone,” Pigsy said with a shrug. “And you need to give these noodles a couple minutes to cool off anyway.”

“Uh, what about?” Sun wukong chanced with a chuckle. “What, am I training MK on the days you need him again? We can reschedule, no problem.”

“This ain’t about MK,” Pigsy said with a shake of his head. “It’s about how you looked when you got here.”

Oh.

“How I… looked?”

“You looked like your entire world was pulled out from under ya, Wukong,” Pigsy said softly. “It wasn’t until you started interacting with the kid that you perked up. What happened?”

He debated lying. Or side stepping. Telling Pigsy it was nothing or that he had just broken another artifact and didn’t know how to tell the celestial it belonged to what happened. But he knew Pigsy wasn’t stupid. He knew he would ask questions.

And… he did promise to be more honest… and out of everyone, except perhaps Sandy, Pigsy was the one person he felt he might be able to talk to about this.

“I… Chang’e asked me about… having kids the other day,” he admitted, noting the shocked look on the other’s face that popped up instantly. “And I had to tell her that I didn’t think I could have kids. But I wasn’t sure so I. I went to a fertility clinic to get checked… And uh…”

“Bad news?”

Sun Wukong nodded, taking a deep breath to steady himself.

“Very bad,” he explained. And then he continued.

As it would turn out, the answer to whether or not he and Chang’e would have children was no.

But not willingly.

He would never be able to face Chang’e directly when he would have to admit he went to be checked out at a fertility clinic, just to be sure. Her questions made him second guess all the celestials who had told him he would likely never be able to have kids of his own.

They were right.

Sun Wukong didn’t realize how much hearing that would male his stomach sink.

Sure, he THOUGHT he would never have kids of his own. But he held out hope that, maybe, with some magic involved something might happen. Not to find out he would never be able to father one at all no matter what.

“They said I’m completely infertile,” he said with a humorless chuckle. “Just. Nothing there. No possibility of. Anything. No accidents, nothing on purpose. Nothing they can do to make it possible for me. Turns out being born from a rock makes you just. Not able to have kids like that. The fertility gods told me I couldn’t centuries ago, but I thought ‘hey, I defied them before so maybe they’re wrong!’ … but they were right.”

“...I’m sorry,” Pigsy said softly. Honestly. He reached out, resting a hand on the Monkey King’s shoulder. “You… sound like you wanted to try.”

“I did,” Sun Wukong admitted. “I didn’t realize I would want to with her until she asked, but I did.”

“Are you going to look into other options?” Pigsy asked before cringing. “Sorry, that. That’s probably too soon to ask.”

“It’s ok,” Sun Wukong said. “I mean. We could do… other stuff? Like the river water. Chang’e would have to be ready for that and I don’t know if she is. I know we could adopt, but…”

He trailed off, shaking his head.

“But what?”

“What… what if I mess up again?” Sun Wukong asked as he looked at the child in his arms. “I… I’ve messed up so much as a mentor. What if this is a sign telling me I don’t deserve to be a dad after all. What if I mess up as a dad too? ”

“You’re gonna mess up,” Pigsy said without missing a beat. “A lot. You’re never going to stop messing up.”

As much as he tried not to admit it, Sun Wukong could feel his stomach growing cold and his face falling as he listened to Pigsy say this. He was right. He had always messed up and would always mess up, wouldn’t he? He-

“And that’s ok.”

“... huh?”

Sun Wukong looked at the other in confusion.

“Messing up is part of being a parent,” Pigsy continued with a soft smile. “I should know. I’ve messed up so many times with MK.”

“But… he’s fine!” Sun Wukong said with genuine shock. “You mean… messing up won’t…”

“Break the kid?” Pigsy finished, waiting for Sun Wukong to nod. “If messing up ruined your kids, no one would be a put together adult. I fed MK things that made him sick, left him alone with art supplies, lost my temper and had to apologize. I ain’t proud of any of that. But I didn’t break him, and I learned from all of my mistakes. And I think MK turned out pretty great, didn’t he?”

“Yeah, he did,” Sun Wukong couldn’t help but agree.

“If you treat kids the way you’ve been treating MK after Lady Bone Demon? Or Fenhua today? You don’t have anything to worry about. Now go on, eat up, your noodles should be fine by now.”

And with that, Pigsy turned around without another word.

It wasn’t easy to get a good spoonful of broth or a bite of noodles with the kid in his lap.

But he managed.

And Pigsy was right, they were the perfect temperature.

Maybe…

He was right about how he would be with a kid too…

~

“Oh! It really is S-Sun Wukong!”

“I told you he was in good hands.”

The mentioned Sage turned at the unfamiliar voice, seeing MK arrive back with a woman.

It didn’t take many context clues for him to guess this was Fenhua’s mother.

“Well, what better hands for someone to be in than mine?” He said jokingly, standing up and holding the young child as carefully as possible. “He’s been asleep for a while.”

“He doesn’t fall asleep for anyone else except MK and my husband,” his mother said with amazement. “Thank you so much. I hope he wasn’t too much trouble.”

“None at all,” Sun Wukong said with a wide smile. “It’s been a while since I’ve gotten to answer such an excited fan one on one.”

“He was absolutely enthralled with the monkey,” Pigsy yelled from the kitchen. “You would have mistaken him for family if you didn’t know any better.”

“You’d be a great dad, a bet,” Pigsy’s regular said with a chuckle. “... I’m sorry, that was weird! I hope that wasn’t rude! It’s just… if THE Sun Wukong had a kid, I think we’d all… I’m embarrassing myself, aren’t I?”

Sun Wukong looked down at the kid in his arms, sleeping soundly with an iron grip on his sleeve. And all he could think of was ‘damn…I really do want to be a dad…’

“Not at all. Maybe I should offer some babysitting services,” he said jokingly.

“Not in my shop you ain’t!” Pigsy softly yelled from the kitchen. “This was a one time favor!”

Everyone couldn’t help but chuckle as the regular took her son from the sage’s arms, Fenhua barely rousing at the jostle.

“Mama?” He said softly as she leaned him against her shoulder.

“Yes, honey, it’s time to go home.”

“Ok… bye Mr. Sage, bye Gege...”

“AH,” MK’s mouth dropped open as the young child’s mother chuckled, the little guy already dozing back off in her arms again. 

It took a whole minute after they left for him to turn to Sun Wukong and Pigsy with a wide smile. 

“He called me Gege!” MK said giddily, flapping his hands up and down.

MK was so… clearly excited by this.

Sun Wukong smiled softly, almost missing the knowing look Pigsy shot him.

Co-parents to the same overpowered Monkie Kid didn’t need to say anything to know MK would be a fantastic big brother.

~

“I’m sorry, Peach Pie,” Chang’e said when Sun Wukong told her. “Maybe… they’re wrong? We could try anyway! I’d try as long as we need to!”

“I don’t think that we can ‘try’ a child into existence with what they told me,” Sun Wukong said with a soft shake of his head. “I just… can’t have any kids with you. I… I understand if that’s too much, you’re the one who brought them up and-”

“What? No!” Chang’e said instantly, grabbing his face to make him look at her. “Wukong, I’m not going to leave you because we can’t have a kid together. Never. I’m sorry if I made you think I would ever consider that… I just…” She sighed, looking out at the garden on the other side of the Flower Fruit Mountain portal the Sage had set up. “I love you. Even if we can never have a child, that’s not going to change. I’ve been here alone for centuries, just having you for company with everyone you bring to me? Is plenty. It was just on my mind for so long I wanted to be... honest with you."

“I’m glad you were,” he said, unsure of how else to respond. Because he was. “But it gets lonely when we’re not here, right?”

“Yeah…” Chang’e admitted. “And I never got to have kids before coming here. I guess I also… wanted to pass on everything I know to someone, give them a good life up here. Maybe that's silly.”

“Not at all. It’s nice. It’s a good want to have, Mooncake.”

There was a silence between them, understanding and not as awkward as Sun Wukong expected.

"We could adopt," Chang'e said as they watched the little monkeys being handed between the elders. "Lots of kids would love being taken to the moon."

"I don't think adoption agencies would amicable toward 'monkey dad flies/passed small baby through portal to moon to visit mom daily'," Sun Wukong said with a laugh. “But… I was going to suggest the same thing. I think I'd be the most comfortable with that."

"They don't have to be a baby!" Chang'e countered with a pout. "They just have to love mooncakes. But…” She smiled, grabbing her partner’s hand. “I’m glad you already gave that some thought."

"I am too,” Sun Wukong said. “And? That criteria sounds easy enough to fit."

The two reached through the portal, hands intertwined as they kissed. Earth and space meeting and melding together for a few seconds.

“Come on up,” Chang’e said once they broke apart. “One of my bunny bots broke earlier today and I can use some help getting them back up and running.”

“Let’s get the little buddy back into shape, then!”

… they could not have guessed what would happen next.

[savnofilter]

Can I ask you a genuine question? When you turn 18, will you stop writing nsfw for the UA students? Since technically you’d be an adult lewding minors? And if you do currently find some of the students attractive (which is fine because you’re the same age as them) does that mean you’ll be instantly unattracted by them when you become a legal adult? I’m not trying to be rude, I’m just curious and it’s ok if you don’t wanna respond.

more links on my decision: one | two | three

i feel like now its in my pinned post, i'll be addressing why!! this will apply to my other blogs as well so i will rb to them since i have works concerning characters over there too. this ask has been sitting in my askbox since 2020 (ifykyk).

to answer your question, precisely. ive been thinking about the content i make now and considering the future. since everything that has happened and how my views have changed from when i first started my blog to now, i am a completely different person. (partly because i was a fresh teen and it was my first time ever in a fandom lol).

i just personally dont feel like adults should be lewding teens. thats just me, dont come hootin' & shitting yourselves in my inbox ab it either. dont "well sav it was wrong for you to write being a minor 😡". dont come for me wanting to finish my student reqs. dont try to convince me to change my mind or argue morals ab real vs fake. because i promise you idgaf. im fully aware of the hypocrisy which is why i will only be writing for students until i get them cleared out. im only doing it because i feel bad for not getting to them sooner as the idea has been to get them finished before i turned 18; that not panning out due to mental health issues. even though im still a teenager, im technically an adult and im just different now.

i’ll still keep up my old works, i just wont be doing anything full out nsfw with them anymore after i have fully finished all of my reqs/wips—which is a LOT. ive also been thinking of making a sfw blog for my blogs collectively so i can keep stuff seperated and not feel weird conversing with people younger than me.

thanks for asking!!

[tcookies777]

I was truly scared to ask this because it might come off as rude but I had wanted to ask this because it’s been bothering me for weeks. I was really contemplating whether to ask this and share my thoughts because I don’t want you to think that I am a hater or something. Omg I’m so scared don’t hate me please 🙏😭

Does Kakashi see Sakura as a replacement for Rin? Did he had any secret romantic feelings for Rin? I am asking because his thoughts of Rin in Chapter 27 is eerily similar to whenever he thinks about Sakura? 

For Example: 

“She’d been his reason to live; his own light in the darkness when Kakashi had felt hopeless and lost.” is so similar to: “I guess you could say... she’s my lifeline. I hold onto my thoughts of her whenever I feel like I’m drowning.” 

Without context, I would have thought he was thinking about the same person. In reality, he was talking about two people. In the former statement, he was talking about Rin at Chapter 27. In the latter statement, he was talking about Sakura at Chapter 31. There are many more examples in the fic but this ask would too long.

I hope I don’t sound rude. I am just asking here. But please be straight with me, does Kakashi view Sakura as a replacement for Rin? Personally, I just don’t want Sakura to be some kind of replacement for Rin as it would be unfair to her. It would only signify that Kakashi only has feelings for Sakura because he sees Rin so much in her and that’s really concerning for Sakura’s sake. 

Also the fact that you wrote “He blinked at the sight of Rin standing before him, but when he blinked again it was Sakura instead.” is concerning and can be seen as further proof that Kakashi only has feelings for Sakura because he sees Rin and not actually Sakura herself. 

My god my hands are shaking. Please don’t see this as hate. I am only asking. Btw I am excited for the next chapter! 

To be honest, I think the next chapter would be the perfect answer to your question. Of course it's been postponed now but I hope it gives you a clear picture of how Kakashi sees Sakura and Rin.

Also I know I sound very intimidating lately but this is just me putting my foot down after having to put up with so much crap from haters and trolls for exactly 10 months now.

I've just been deleting the worst of the hate and disrespect for the past 10 months to spare you guys, but it got tiring for me and the new spam attack was the straw that broke the camel's back for me. So that's why I'm putting my foot down and being serious now.

Also don't be afraid to ask. Simply asking is not rude. What I mean by "asking rudely" is when there's attitude involved or it's framed in a disparaging way.

I'm going to give you a few examples of real comments I got recently that I found rude:

"So Sakura's going to be r*ped for her first time? That's real shitty" (this reader was misconstruing)

"How can you say with a straight face that you're excited to write KakaSaku smut when you've written all this conflict between them?! I seriously have no idea how it's possible for Kakashi and Sakura to get together in your story at this point!"

"Can't you at least have the decency to put up trigger warnings for people who don't like to read non-KakaSaku scenes?"

Can't you just tell us if you're going to write more X?! I know you have a no-spoiler policy but I hate X

You say X happened but when in the world did X ever happen?! I see Y happening instead!

Why are you lying? How can you say X has or will happen when it looks like it's all about Y?!

So are you saying X is going to happen? Ugh, great (this reader was also misconstruing)

Here's a few examples of real comments I got that I found polite:

"Did the boys target Sakura or were they getting their revenge on her for punching the guy?"

"Do you take requests?"

"Can you explain if Mizuki was planning to drug Sakura in his office in X scene?

Is X character going to return? Just curious but if you can't answer for spoiler sake then it's ok!

As everyone can hopefully see, it takes more effort to ask rudely than it does to ask nicely.

[hexonthepeach]

fic info & requests

hi, i’m ash and i enjoy writing ridiculous erotica in my free time

i write primarily for nct with a focus on nct 127 (ults: johnny, jaehyun close biases/wreckers: jungwoo, doyoung, ten, haechan, yangyang but i adore everyone ot22) with no current plans to expand into other content although i do love and listen to a large number of other kpop groups and solo artists and enjoy rpf for other bgs

my fic tics (and tropes):

i write y/n reader self-insert and consider it a universalizing genre, i may specify things like size difference for fic purposes but will tag gendered terms and actively avoid anything discriminating (please let me know if anything rubs you the wrong way by ask (anon is ok) and i’ll correct it) 

pansexual/bisexual agenda - i don’t state sexualities often so this should just be assumed

polyamory and reverse harem, not always but often with m/m - i don’t write exclusive m/m often but i appreciate it and it’s very much a possibility in my aus (and will always be tagged)

heavily researched world-built aus - this won’t be as apparent on tumblr but check my AO3 notes. my fics take a long time to construct primarily because i’m autistic and need like three months to make sure which aftershave was popular in 1981 before i post so please bear with me

hardcore, pornographic, kink-heavy smut - if i haven’t written it into an au, it will happen eventually. i’m an erotica writer first even if i sometimes write feelings

i abide by YKINMK, if i haven’t tagged something properly let me know and i will add it without any repercussion, but i also ask you respect any tags i include because as much of a fan as i am of negotiating consent i will also read/write/post noncon/dubcon, incest, and a number of other harder subjects (as always, and forever, tagged)

ask rules and request guidelines:

asks:

i accept any and all head canons related to my work or aus

short requests or prompts for drabbles are very welcome and answered when i have time (may take ~1-2 weeks)

my favorite thing in the world are song recommendations (kpop or not!) so please, please, please send me any you thought of while reading my work or as inspo. in fact, send me anything - it means a lot to me 

fic or author recs are also my jam and reblogged once i have the energy for review (non-nct on my��main: @loveholicsanon but send a they/them your faves i’m open to anything)

please no asks related to personal info besides what’s been stated on my blog

absolutely zero tolerance for hate for members or other groups i don’t have the energy for it and i abide by a don’t yuck anyone’s yum policy when it comes to everything because i’ve been on the internet way too long and know where that leads

dnr/dnw

underage

untagged noncon/dubcon or gore/violence/bodyhorror (note: i do read/write these subjects but will always respect guidelines for consent and ask the same in return) 

real life idol aus

nct dream centered fic (i have a hardline t-rating for chenle, renjun, & jisung but will include them as accessories)

commissions: no plans to accept at this time

tag list: i’m open to starting one but honestly i’m also old and haven’t used tumblr in a while so you can just trust this blog will mostly be fic and fic recs

thanks again for reading and interacting, and let me know if you have any questions or concerns at any time