#also i was reading comments on this fic(its from a couple years ago)

[skitskatdacat63]

I looked forward in a fic I'm reading bcs the authors note was like "it feels bittersweet to finish this fic off" and the last chapter is titled "a year later" I DONT WANNNAAAAAAA STOP WHAT HAPPENS THAT REQUIRES A YEAR LATER UPDATE

[ellieslaces]

NOTHING’S GONNA HURT YOU, BABY.

featuring: leon kennedy x fem!agent!reader x ashley graham

synopsis: ashley graham's biggest weakness is attractive people, especially kind, attractive people. she was not expecting to be saved by two of the hottest, kindest people she'd ever met, much less to end up crushing on the both of them

content warnings: harsh language; mentions of violence; tension; lots of flirtatious banter; ashley shooting her shot for an entire fic basically; mentions of reader being bisexual; light smut; kissing (f!f & f!m); one bed trope; forced proximity; no real smut bc idk how to write a threesome :(

notes: takes place on the way back from Spain (technically post RE4R); one bed-ish trope (r&leon share a bed, and a room with ashley); ashley is sort of confused about her sexuality; semi-established relationship (r&leon); really more of a sibling dynamic between ashley and leon (it sounds weird, but its balanced in the actual fic, i promise)

word count: 6.13k (i’m so sorry)

chloe talks: was this entirely inspired by @postersofleon ? yeah, i read this post a week or so ago and i'm losin' sleep over it. so full credits to @postersofleon for the plot! luv their lil' drabble :) also, sorry this isn't more of a threesome fic. if it were a triple female threesome, i could work with that, but add a dick into it, i'm clueless. anyways, enjoy ashley fumbling for this whole fic (luv her, i just can't help embarrassing her shes so cute). also, please appreciate this, i wrote around 80% of this while i was supposed to be studying for an exam. that’s on adhd and procrastination :)

now playing: Nohings Gonna Hurt You Baby; Cigarettes After Sex

It is entirely possible that blondes were, indeed, your weakness. Sure, over the years, you'd come to realize there was something especially alluring about lighter hair - possibly the way it reminded you of the sun, or how each strand looked like spun gold. Although, what seemed to seal your fate was the ever dangerous pairing of blonde hair and blue eyes. Oh, how alluring and damning was the color of icy blue coupled with silvery, silken strands.

For a time, you believed your weakness was encompassed only within your field partner, Leon S. Kennedy. God, how handsome was that agent. Not only handsome, but brave, and kind - awkwardly so, but it really is the principle of the thing. It was painstakingly obvious to everyone, other than Leon it seemed, that you were completely and forlornly in love with him. It seemed you were equally as blind to the evidence that Leon Kennedy was also miserably in love with you.

But the one person who noticed it upon first glance was Ashley Graham. Not only for the clear obviousness of the situation, but because the feeling was entirely, and unfortunately mutual. And it was this girl who also awoke the realization within you that Leon was not the only blonde-haired, blue-eyed person you found enticing.

Though, you were not the only one in this clandestine triad who had an impending weakness for certain types of people. No, you were not, Ashley had an Achilles heel for graciously kind people. Not just kind, but attractive. Not in a shallow or superficial way, but to say more that a person would catch her eye. She had no pre-existing physical type - no particular hair color, eye color, or even height preference. Just that they be kind. And much to the First Daughter's dismay, you were both horribly kind. In your own respective ways, of course.

Leon — as aforementioned — was awkwardly kind, despite how well he meant. He never knew exactly how to word his concern, or how to come about comforting someone. It was usually said in simple phrases such as “you okay?” or in way of one of many snarky comments he had stored in the deep recesses of his mind. Ashley thought he was funny; sometimes.

You, on the other hand, were painfully sweet to her. Always reassuring her that she was okay, and you were going to keep her safe. Field medic, that’s how Leon explained your role in her rescue. You were there to keep her and Leon healthy and in one piece, which you were startlingly good at. Any bruise or cut she procured was immediately treated by your sweet disposition and skilled hands. She liked how gentle you were with her.

So yes, Leon was kind in an awkward manner, and you were kind in a practical sense. And that devastating combination was her inevitable downfall.

From the moment you and Leon found her in that church, she knew she was fucked. Because, how could people look that good while doing the sort of jobs you had? There was no way, no way she would ever be able to form coherent sentences around you two. But, somehow, by some miracle, she got on with you both quite well. Despite the obvious moments of third-wheel-ism because you and Leon were so close.

There where multiple reoccurring occasions where Ashley suspected the pair of you may be together. Or at least fucking on the side. Because no two people who are just partners have that dynamic. The constant tension, the way Leon could be protective or even overbearing sometimes. The way you would rush to his side to patch up his wounds — no matter how small and minuscule they were — after a fight. Sometimes, despite how endearing it could be, Ashley was annoyed. Sure, you two had known each other for an extended period of time and had just met Ashley that day. But, it became so aggravating when you would consult each other without the inclusion of Ashley.

Many times you would apologize to her, expressing how sorry you were for leaving her out of conversations or hypothetical battle plans. It wasn’t that either of you thought she was stupid or couldn’t handle it. No, it was more along the lines that you were used to it just being the two of you. There was rarely ever a third party involved — other than Hunnigan chatting away in your ear pieces of course — in these types of situations.

Ashely was smitten, to put it lightly. She’d made several attempts to quote-unquote ‘shoot her shot’ with Leon. Little comments of how brave he was, how thankful she was for his saving her. Even calling him her ‘hero’ on one occasion or another. His name had posted permanent residence in her vocabulary it seemed.

However, her means of flattery with you was completely different. She was a little more bold with you, seeing as you were more of an open person than Leon was. She partook in the cliche, yet never failing flirtatious mannerisms — simple touches, giggling at your jokes, or simply sticking to your side in dangerous situations. It wasn’t that you didn’t notice, no, you just turned a conscious blind eye to it all. Ashley was a college girl, a sorority girl, a privileged girl. She was probably used to using flattery to get what she wanted, to gain the attention she so desperately thrived on.

Though as your time in the hostile Spanish village went on, you came to realize that it wasn’t superficial, Ashley’s flattery toward you and your field partner. Absolutely not, far from it. You realized after Leon had carried her to Luis’ laboratory and you managed to get the machine working to expel the parasite from her body, that Ashley was totally and completely smitten with the pair of you. She was attached in the worst way. And that would be your inevitable downfall.

Leon was consciously blind to it. Your partner — no matter his selfless tendencies and his awkwardly kind nature — was melancholic. He had a firm belief he was predestined to be miserable. That there was always another shoe waiting to drop. He didn’t deserve happiness, peace, love, a good life. So, he ignored it. He ignored how Ashley was equally as taken with him as she was with you. He didn’t bring it up, he didn’t even act like he noticed. Oh, but you did.

You saw the attachment so clearly by the time the three of you had managed to escape the crumbling island via Ada Wong’s gifted jet ski that Ashely was so attached to the pair of you. She’d offered positions on her own personal detail to you, claiming she could put a word in with her father. Denials were made, kind smiles and the shaking of heads. Too kind of an offer and you liked your jobs, is what you’d told her. That wasn’t at all what you were thinking though.

Post a Hunnigan meltdown over your earpieces, the three of you were told to stay the night in a shabby, rundown little local hotel in a larger town a couple dozen miles south of the village. Still in Spain, still tired, still craving a warm shower. One room, two beds. Great, one of you was stuck sleeping with someone. Ashely offered for one of you to have a bed to yourself, she’d sleep with the other. Not a great idea. You and Leon — having spent many awkward and difficult missions together, so this was not strange to either one of you — decided on giving Ashley a bed to herself and taking the other together

If you’d been alone, oh how your lovestruck little heart would have burst. Sharing a bed with Leon Kennedy, the object of your affection. The sole performer in your wildest — and wettest — dreams. But you weren’t alone. Ashley was in the room, a matter of feet away, in her own double sized bed.

If she hadn’t been — to be vulgar and completely honest — nothing would have stopped you from fucking him then and there. The tension between the pair of you had been growing thicker since your arrival in Spain. It was thick, painfully so, and also horrifically obvious not only to you, but yet again, to Ashley. For the longer stretch of the mission, she’d expected a grand confession at any moment. A breakdown caused by a dangerous situation that ensued a moment of emotional and even physical vulnerability. But, to her dismay and yours, that never happened. Because, above all things, Leon was professional for a lack of a better word. He wasn’t going to allow his emotions to jeopardize the mission.

And so no breakdown of emotional distress and vulnerability played out. No confession of hearts bleeding for the other were cried out. Part of you was glad it hadn’t happened that way. But the larger part of your soul which was dedicated to Leon had wished it had. You longed for the day he realized he needed you too. But, to maintain professionalism and dignity, neither of you made such admissions.

Warm showers were taken in rotation in the tiny excuse for a bathroom. The shower was small and permanently stained with grime, but really was clean as the owner swore. The shower head was one of the older ones from the seventies that made the water come out in a dribble, then a forceful rainfall that hurt your back. The toiletries provided by the hotel were small and cheap, but you were clean. That’s all that mattered.

Sans dried blood and grime, you sat on Ashley’s bed, cross legged as you patched up each one of her injuries. Ashley had been the first to shower, after a fifteen minute debate with the two of you over who should go first. She had a few bandages and exposed scrapes that needed to be re-cleaned. So, with gentle hands you did so as Leon took use of his turn to shower.

“Looks good, no signs of infection so far. But, like I said before, I can’t tell too much without the right equipment.” You reassured Ashely as you finished patching up a cut on her arm and began to put your first aid kit back together.

“Thanks,” Ashley nodded, inspecting her scrape riddled skin. Small bruises and surface cuts were beginning to make their appearance, telltale signs of the brutality the three of you had endured in that village.

“Let me know if you feel feverish or see any swelling. That could mean infection.” You offered, being kind but stern.

“‘Kay,” the girl nodded, smiling up at you as you let out a sigh, leaning back on your hands on the bed.

You looked at her, smiling softly as your head tilted to the side a little. “Need me to kiss it better?”

At this, Ashley’s eyes went wide, her cheeks dusted with pink. You felt a little bad then, you just tried to ease the tension. “S��okay, Ashley. I was just playing.” You laughed, your tone lighthearted as you placed a gentle hand on her knee with an equally gentle smile.

It seemed the touch was worst than the comment. Ashley’s entire face went aflame, her eyes wide, and large as she stared at you. An uneasy ache settled in your chest, uncertainty lingering in the air as your smile faded. The initial shock between the pair of you didn’t last long as the door to the bathroom swung open.

“Jesus, you could’ve left me some hot water.” Leon grumbled as he stepped out into the room, lips downturned and brows etched in an annoyed frown.

The three of you were now paused as Leon’s eyes fell on you and Ashely — or more-so on the hand that rested on Ashley’s knee. Reality seemed to snap into place all at once for you, yanking your hand back and standing up.

“Let me check you out.” You mumbled, clearing your throat as you picked up the first aid kit and took residence on your own bed.

“No, I’m fine. Check on Ashley,” Leon shook his head, damp blond strands sticking to his forehead.

“Already did. Just finished. Your turn, whether you like it or not.” You stated, your tone final as you looked up at Leon, brows raised.

The agent let out a huff of agitation, grumbling something indiscernible as he sat down on the bed beside you. You began to gently inspect Leon's wounds- some small, others more intense. Despite his prior hesitation to be taken care of, he was stoic about it all. He sat still, unmoving, silent as you worked to disinfect and cover each wound with fresh bandages. The silence in the room was loud, startlingly uncomfortable as you patched Leon up.

A quick glance over at Ashley as you finished bandaging a deep cut that you'd quickly stitched up on the field showed her wide eyes. Wide baby blue focused on the way your fingers gently worked, how graceful and careful they were again the alabaster tone of Leon's skin.

"Doing okay over there, blondie?” Leon inquired, a small smirk playing on his face as he spotted Ashley's startling gaze on the wounds decorating his skin. He had mistook her fascination of your hands as nervousness of his wounds. But you knew. You could tell what her gaze meant.

"Oh, yeah. M'fine." Ashley recovered very quickly, to your surprise. Well, maybe it wasn't just your hands that had her enraptured, Leon was sitting on the bed, shirtless.

"Alright, hero-boy, all better." You smiled at Leon as you patted his bicep - earning a small, almost inaudible grumble from him - and moving to close your medical kit. You stood, tucking away in your pack and let out a sigh. "’Kay, l for one, am fucking exhausted."

“Yeah, me too,” Ashely murmured, an aura of discomfort still radiating from her. She offered a kind, if not awkward smile to the pair of you before settling into the bed, pulling the overs over her shoulders. “G’night.”

“‘Night,” you smiled, shuffling over to the bed you and Leon were sharing. You sat down on the edge, eyes trained on the back of Ashley’s head — the blonde hair, how it shimmered against the dim light of the single lamp in the room. You felt almost as if you weren’t really there.

“Need me to check you?” Leon asked, snapping you back to reality. You jolted a bit, looking at him from over your shoulder.

“Oh, nah, I’m okay.” You shook your head, clearing your throat as you settled into the bed, flicking off the lamp.

“Okay,” Leon shrugged, getting into the bed too, still in just a pair of pants. Everyone was in the barest of clothing. You in a tank top and underwear — Ashely in the same. It was all you had. All your clothes were soiled with dirt, and grime, and blood.

Thinking of nothing in particular, you laid there, staring up at the ceiling of the dark room. The walls creaked every once in a while, odd drafts filtered in from cracks in the ceiling or from the window. It was too quiet. And it stayed that way for a long while.

“Everything okay with Ashley?” Leon asked, his voice quiet, as not to wake the subject of conversation.

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” You mumbled back, turning your head. He, too, was on his back. Both of you too afraid to face each other in bed, seeming too personal. “Why?”

“Just making sure.” His response was quiet, a little too nonchalant, as if he’d forced it to be casual. “It was awkward earlier.”

“Earlier?” You decided to play dumb, despite knowing that Leon wouldn’t believe it. He was well aware you knew what he was talking about. The touch. How Ashley had frozen when you’d touched her leg.

“Whatever, play stupid.” He scoffed with a half smile — a knowing smile. The bastard. “Just saying, she seems attached to you.”

“Oh, and she’s not with you, her hero?” You bit back with a hint of humor. Your voices were still low, hoping Ashely was asleep — or she couldn’t hear you if she wasn’t.

Leon laughed quietly, a rough scoff sound that echoed in your ears. You smiled at little at that sound. “Whatever you say,”

You frowned, gaining the confidence to shuffle onto your side, facing him as you contemplated what that simple, yet heavy ‘whatever’ meant. “What do you mean, whatever?”

Leon sighed, rolling onto his side to face you too. His eyes, still so blue even in the darkness of the motel room, bore into yours. It seemed he didn’t carry the same awkward feeling about this topic as you did. Or, maybe he did and he just hid it exceptionally well. But knowing him, that didn’t seem right.

“She’s just attached to you. Always at your side, or chatting your ear off. And what the hell was with that earlier?” He continued, brows furrowed in their eternal frown.

“I was patching her up. Making sure none of her cuts were infected.” You half shrugged, trying to play it off as something simple, even though it was so complex.

“She looked like she wanted to kiss you or something.”

“Oh, my God,” you rolled your eyes, trying to push away the way your chest tightened at the though. “You’re so fucking dramatic. She wasn’t gonna kiss me.”

“Okay,” Leon shrugged, his tone final and casually dismissive. Like he was finished talking about it. Like he didn’t believe you but didn’t want to say so.

“She was not going to kiss me.” You pushed, voice quiet yet firm. Your own brows were pulled into a frown, like what he’d said was offensive.

But it wasn’t. Kissing Ashley wasn’t a bad thought. It wasn’t as if you’d never kissed another girl before. The first time you had was in the training program for USSTRATCOM, your training partner who made you realize that all girls don’t look at other girls that way. She was the first, others followed.

Ashley was pretty, very pretty. Tall, pretty lips, and the blonde hair, blue eye thing, of course. Kissing her wouldn’t be so bad, really. It would probably be very nice. But nothing like kissing Leon, though.

“Okay.” Leon said again, shifting to lay on his back again, letting his eyes close. The finality of it all aggravated you. So, you asked him a question maybe you shouldn’t have.

“What if she did?” You asked, eyes narrowed and trained on him. A smile bloomed on your face at the way his eyes opened, his brows furrowing deeper at your question.

“What about it? It’s not my business.” Leon grumbled. But the tone he used made it wound like it was very much his business.

“M’kay.” You nodded, quietly celebrating to the way you’d seemed to have stumped him, surprised him.

For a moment, he didn’t respond. He stared at the ceiling, and you stared at him. It was deadly quiet, the rhythmic sound of Ashley’s breathing the sole sound in the room.

“Did you want her to?” Leon asked, mumbling quietly. His eyes stayed on the ceiling, as if he were afraid to look you in the eye when you answered. Afraid you had an answer he wouldn’t like.

“I dunno.” You admitted, honestly. You didn’t know, truly you didn’t. Kissing Ashely wouldn’t be so bad, but you hardly knew the girl. Not to mention her heavy attachment to you. It could get worse if she kissed you.

Leon nodded, not sure of how to answer your admission. He laid there, your eyes on him as you laid on your side. You wished so desperately for him to kiss you, or hold you, or do something. It was painful, the thought that he didn’t feel the same.

“Would that bother you?” You dared to ask, voice so low it was almost inaudible as you spoke.

Leon was still quiet for a long moment, maybe considering whether to answer seriously or with his usual dry humor. The latter won. “Not something I’d wanna walk in on.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Why? Because we’re girls?”

“Because she’d be kissing you.” He responding, saying it lightly, like the meaning of that simple sentence wasn’t the heaviest thing you’d ever heard.

Your mind did circles, your heart raced. Did he mean that because you were his partner? Or did he mean it out of jealousy. God, you hoped it was jealousy.

“What do you mean by that?” You questioned, voice apprehensive and unsure.

Leon shrugged, a soft, unintelligible grunt falling from his lips. He didn’t look over at you, his eyes still trained on the ceiling. The nagging feeling that was ever present in your chest worsened. The silence was deafening, painful. Then, finally, he spoke.

“It’d just be weird. It’s Ashely, it’d be weird.” He mumbled, like even he didn’t believe his own answer.

Leon’s words befuddled you, made you frown in contemplation. “Because it’s Ashley? What you mean by that?”

“I mean it’s Ashley. It’d be weird.” He repeated, not clarifying at all. This annoyed you.

Eyes narrowed, lips in a line, you scoffed. “Thanks for the explanation.”

“Anytime,” Leon clipped back playfully. But you were in no playful mood.

You huffed, Leon picking up on your attitude as you sat up in bed. “Seriously, what’d you mean by that?”

Leon let out a scoff of his own, rolling his eyes as he looked over at you. “I mean it’s just a weird thought. You and Ashley. We, we just met her, okay?”

“Oh,” you nodded, wishing you hadn’t jumped to your own conclusions internally. You’d thought he meant it was weird because she wasn’t him. Or maybe that he wanted to kiss you. Not such a simple and obvious answer.

“Yeah,” he nodded, letting out a small sigh to stifle a yawn. “Look, can we get some sleep now? Kinda have a long trip home tomorrow.”

“Yeah. Yeah, sorry.” You mumbled, lying back down on your back, eyes on the cracked ceiling once again.

It was quiet again, the discomfort of silence present once more as Ashley slept in the bed next to yours, and Leon tired to sleep beside you. Your mind buzzed with a thousand variations of the same question: why did Leon actually care so damn much?

“Go to sleep. You think too loud.” Leon grumbled, shifting to lay on his side, back facing you.

“At least some of us think,” you quipped quietly, earning a scoff of a laugh from him before he went silent for the final time that night.

Of course Leon woke up at dawn. The asscrack of fucking dawn. And it wasn’t like he was quiet either. Shuffling of his feet as he stumbled to the bathroom, the sink creaking on. You tried so hard to stay asleep, but your stupid internal alarm clock was ringing too. Oh to be in D.C. where it was still dark.

“C’mon, get up. We need to get moving.” Leon said, his voice somewhat gentle as he rested a hand on your shoulder once he’d emerged from the bathroom, fully changed.

“I’m up. You’re loud.” You mumbled, voice muffled as you pressed your face into the pillow.

“Jesus,” Leon whispered under his breath. “Even Ashely’s up.”

“Good for her,” you nestled deeper into the pillow, hearing a second set of footsteps head toward the bathroom. Less than five short seconds later, Leon yanked the covers from your body, sending a muffled yelp from your lips.

“Up, we need to move.” Leon said again, giving your leg a small shake as you grumbled on about a lack of sleep. His gentleness was gone now, replaced by urgency.

Technically, you were still on ‘enemy grounds’. You weren’t safe until you were back on U.S. soil, and even then there carried a risk with Ashley in tow.

So, with more sour encouragement from Leon, you got up and changed into your now dry clothes. Once Ashely used up her turn in the bathroom, you took yours. And not long after, the three of you were heading back toward the lobby of the shabby motel.

You managed to convince Leon to stick around for an extra thirty minutes for a shitty cooked breakfast in the sad excuse for a dining room where the motel offered complimentary breakfast.

Once full of frozen scrambled eggs, stale toast, and really bad coffee, the three of you were on the move once more. It was tricky, getting home like this. Hunnigan had promised that of you made it to a certain location a few miles north of the motel, there would be a chopper waiting to pick you up. Hunnigan hadn’t failed you yet, so you didn’t doubt her.

“How much further?” Ashley asked, her brows creased, forehead already glistening with sweat as the three of you walked through the winding streets of a small village as you had been for the past few hours.

“Not too much. Tired?” You asked, slowing your steps to walk alongside the girl.

She nodded, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. Sympathy panged in your chest — Ashley wasn’t built for this like you and Leon were. The two of you had trained for exhausting situations such as these, she had not. You frowned.

“Need some water?” You asked gently, holding out a canteen from your belt. Ashley nodded vigorously, taking the canteen and drinking deeply.

You motioned to Leon to stop for a moment, he frowned, but did nonetheless. You stood with Ashley as she drank, taking a break before going back to drinking the water.

“Thanks,” she smiled, handing the canteen back to you — now half empty. “Sorry, I drank a lot.”

“That’s okay. Can’t have you passing out on us now, can we?” You smiled, taking a sip yourself before latching it back on your belt.

Leon, noticing that Ashely was finished with her break, began walking again. You and Ashely followed, keeping a small bit of distance between you and Leon.

“Hey, I um, I overheard you and Leon talking last night. Not everything, but some of it.” Ashley confessed, her voice a bit hesitant.

“Oh, that so? What’d you hear exactly?” You asked casually, worry springing in your chest.

“Just, I’m sorry because I know you guys have a like, groove or whatever. And I mess it up and I make it weird.”

You frowned for a moment, thinking about her words. Then it hit you — she didn’t hear about the kissing discussion, just the last bit about her being new to the trio.

“Oh, Ashely. You don’t make anything weird. Leon and I… we weren’t talking about you making things weird.” You promised, lips curved downward as you and Ashley walked behind Leon.

“Then why’d Leon say that?” Ashely asked, the insecurity obvious in her voice.

You hesitated, unsure whether or not to say it to her face. That he’d thought you two were going to kiss. After a moment of consideration — and seeing Ashely’s sad, curious eyes — you decided to just say it. Consequences be damned.

“Because he thought you were going to try to kiss me. When he came out of the bathroom last night.” You explained gently, shrugging as if it weren’t a big deal. When it kind of was.

The girl was quiet for a long moment, her brows creased, lips turned downward. She swallowed, looking back at you from where she’d been staring at her feet. “And he meant it’d be weird if I did kiss you?”

“Yeah, that’s what he meant. Not because we’re girls,” you were quick to interject your previous statement. “But because it’s just… that you and I don’t really know each other that well.”

Ashley nodded, walking beside you as you followed Leon along the uneven stone paths. Every once in a while, he’d glance backward to make sure you weren’t lingering behind or somehow gotten lost.

“Okay,” one simple word carried such finality. It shook you — Ashley was uncomfortable.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel weird. I just wanted to be honest.” You tried to explain gently but firmly. You didn’t want her to think you were strange.

“You didn’t make me feel weird.” Ashely shook her head, eyes squinting in the mid-afternoon sun as she looked over at you.

You smiled a little, relieved you hadn’t put her off or made her uncomfortable. That really was the last thing you wanted. “Good,”

The three of you continued to walk along, and a little further up, you demanded a break. Leon huffed, claiming you didn’t have time for a break. But the sun was warm and you were quickly running out of water.

So, you stopped for a quick fifteen minutes before setting off again. Leon was walking much quicker than before — dead set on getting to the extraction point before sundown. Which was very much possible as you were a mere four miles away.

There was a chopper waiting, just as Hunnigan had promised. God, you’d mentally decided to name your first born after her, so thankful to finally leave Spain and sit your ass down.

You sat beside Leon in the back compartment of the chopper, all three of you sporting massive headsets to protect your ears. You chatted away with the pilot — a friend of Hunnigan’s named Danny who was funny, and reminded you of the late Mike who died in pursuit of getting you and Leon out of trouble in the village.

With the promise of a good meal and actual hot showers, Danny flew the three of you home. You were busy looking outside the chopper when Leon nudged your knee with his, earning a slightly venomous glare from you before he pointed to Ashley. Who was dead asleep across from you.

The ride back to D.C. was long, around six hours. Most of which were spent talking with Danny or falling asleep, slumped against Leon’s shoulder. Around twenty minutes before you were set to land — you and Leon had been previously discussing what you were doing first, eating, sleeping, or showering — you shook Ashley awake.

The poor thing was groggy and half asleep as you all filed off the chopper and bid goodbye to Danny — whom you’d made a promise to meet up with and have drinks in honor of Mike at his favorite bar he’d mentioned before he tragically died.

A government issued SUV waited for you, instructing the three of you to pile into the back so you could be taken straight to the President, then to testing. Which you put up a damn good fight. Who the fuck cared about testing? You were hungry and tired and dehydrated as hell. Leon shut you up quick though, despite not being happy about the arrangement himself.

Unfortunately, the car ride was around a half an hour. The driver — not as intimidating had he’d first appeared — flicked between radio stations ntil he landed on one he knew was Ahsley’s favorite. (Apparently he’d been the one to drive Ashely to college, so he knew what music she liked).

Much to Ashely’s dismay and deathly embarrassment, the fucking Backstreet Boys were playing. The driver turned it up, also having the knowledge that this particular track was one of Ashley’s favorites.

Unfortunately, you knew the lyrics too. You mumbled along with them, Leon biting back a smile at how ridiculous his own field partner could be.

“You like the Backstreet Boys?” Ashely asked, her cheeks a bit warm as you bopped your head to the beat and hummed along.

“Nah, but don’t be embarrassed.” You shook your head, smiling at the girl who was sitting between you and Leon.

“Music is music, blondie.” Leon agreed, nodding his head with your positive attitude. He looked back over Ashely’s head at you, trying hard not to smile at your antics. God, you could be so stupidly immature sometimes.

“Oh,” Ashley mumbled, slinking down further in her seat as the driver made the final turn and parked the SUV.

Leon exited first, then Ashley, and you to follow up the rear. You and Leon were armed, still charged with protecting Ashely, no matter the fact that you were indeed on U.S. soil again, and at the White House. The President didn’t greet you outside to your surprise, but you were ushered immediately to his office.

There he was reunited with his daughter, the emotional moment making you have to quietly clear your throat because it even choked you up to see Ashley so happy to see her father again.

You and Leon were thanked profusely, promised your compensation and the highest of honors and awards. To which you didn’t really want (except the money, fuck, you wanted the money), but you knew better than to even try to deny.

With that, you and Leon were quickly dismissed, told you were being led to government testing to be sure you really were clear of the parasites. You gave Ashley a quick goodbye smile and hug, Leon giving her a pat on the shoulder, telling her to behave herself.

She looked so unsure, so strange standing in the Oval Office, clothes grimy and blood stained, hair mussed as she watched you and Leon being escorted from the room.

The First Daughter felt a strange sort of emptiness in her chest then, watching you leave. Her brows furrowed as her father spoke incessantly to her about how worried he’d been and how much he missed her. You were agents, assigned to bring her home and leave. No more, no less. So why was she so devastated to see you go?

Of course, you felt a little sad to leave the girl behind. Despite spending only around forty-eight hours with Ashley, you found yourself realizing you’d miss her. Her smile and her comments and her laugh. The way she always asked if you were alright when you should have been doing so to her. How she tried her hardest to defend you and Leon, despite her chronic helplessness.

These things were not spoken to Leon though as you two walked out of the White House together, followed by guards back to the SUV you’d arrived in. But, even though you didn’t say it, you knew Leon felt it too. Somehow, in forty-eight short hours, Ashley had left a mark on you. The both of you. And you missed her already.

“Wait!” You stopped in your tracks, you and Leon almost simultaneously looking over your shoulder to see Ashley running out of the White House after you. She was panting, trying to catch up.

She ran to Leon first, wrapping her arms around his neck, taking the agent by such surprise it made him stumble backwards a bit. Leon wasn’t much of a hugger, you knew this personally. But, despite the action being hesitant and awkward, he hugged her back.

After a few moments — which you knew in your bones were long for Leon — he gave her a quick pat on the back. Ashely took the motion in stride and unlinked herself, smiling at him.

Then, she turned to you. Of course, you expected a hug as well, and you got one. She wrapped her arms around your neck too, you wrapped your arms around her middle, hugging her back with no hesitation. But what you hadn’t expected, was for her to lean back and press a kiss to your lips.

You paused, frozen, eyes wide as Ashley kissed you. What the fuck? She wasn’t a bad kisser, actually. You felt a little bad, not kissing her back as Ashley pulled away, letting go of you and taking a step back. You sort of wished you had kissed her back. But, as the girl stood there, she held no contempt for the fact that you hadn’t. She knew she’d taken you by complete surprise.

“Thank you, both of you. I know I already said it, but thank you for saving my life. It, it means a lot.” Ashely said, her lips — which had been as soft as you thought they were — curved in a sweet smile. Baby blue eyes darted between you and Leon.

Leon who was as shocked as you that Ashley had kissed you with such little hesitation. He was still recovering as well.

Ashely said no more, just offering one last wide smile before turning around and walking away. Her guard — which had followed her outside, running behind her — escorted her. She didn’t even look back, didn’t get a second look at the still shocked look on your face.

“Holy fuck,” you said finally, looking away from Ashley’s retreating figure to look at Leon. He was shocked as well, brows raised as he blinked for a moment.

“Yep, that was weird.” Leon mumbled, nodding as if in affirmation. He said no more, turning around and walking to the SUV, leaving you in momentary silence.

You blinked yourself back to the present, realizing Leon’s comment. You frowned, turning and quickly walking to the SUV as well. “So I didn’t just have a dehydration induced hallucination? She actually kissed me?”

“She actually kissed you,” Leon nodded as he buckled in the SUV, you climbing in and sitting beside him. The car started and rolled out of the parking lot.

“Oh my God.” You said, brows raised, shaking your head. You were unsure of what else there really was to say. You were at a total loss for words.

“Fucking weird.” Leon shook his head, whispering again.

This caused you to look over at him, brows raised. “Why? Because we’re girls?” You brought up your challenge from the previous night, knowing full well you’d get the same damn response.

“No, because it's you.”

You frowned deeper, lips downturned. Oh, you liked a good fucking challenge. “You think I’m like, un-kissable, or something, Kennedy?”

Leon rolled his eyes, exhaustion obviously catching up to him. He looked tired — physically and mentally. “I didn’t say that. It’s just weird.”

“See, that’s not an explanation. Just like it wasn’t last night.” You chided, eyes narrowed.

“Christ,” Leon mumbled under his breath as shook his head, clearly regretting ever speaking in the last five minutes. “It’s just weird to see my partner being kissed like that.”

You took this as your chance, a grin forming on your lips. “By another girl? Or just in general?”

“General.” Leon responded, obviously not caring of how bored it sounded.

“Jealous or something?” You challenged further, lips pulled in a shit-eating grin.

Oh you’d gotten him there. You could tell by the way Leon’s shoulders tensed and his too casual expression that he was, indeed, sickeningly jealous. An idea — stupid, one that may ruin your dynamic — popped into your head.

You turned your body to face Leon in the backseat, grinning as he frowned at your sudden closeness. With no hesitation or moment for him to react, you leaned forward and kissed him. Square on the mouth. It must be a thing for blondes to have really soft lips.

Leon didn’t say a word, didn’t pull back, didn’t move. He just let you kiss him. Which was strange in and of itself. You placed a hand on his cheek, him a hand on the back of your neck. Eureka, he’d wanted to kiss you all along. Fuck yes, that’s all you could think.

Leon was a decent kisser too, a really good kisser actually. You scooched a little closer, allowing him to hold you by the back of your neck, your body relaxed against his as if it were natural to do so.

Was this what Ashely was feeling when she’d kissed you? Absolute elation and joy? You didn’t let yourself wonder too much, getting swept up in the fact that you were kissing Leon. His hand was gentle yet firm on the back of your neck, your hand on his cheek drifting down to rest against his chest. This moment, God you wished it could last forever.

Which unfortunately, it didn’t. You heard someone clear their throat, the driver looking at you through the rear view mirror. You pulled back, cheeks a little warm. You must look like some sort of girl. Someone who got around maybe. First the First Daughter had kissed you, now you were verging on making out with your field partner in the backseat of a government vehicle.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, pulling away from Leon and sitting back on the seat.

Leon scoffed to himself, letting his hand fall from where it’d been resting on the back of your neck. “You’re stupid,”

“Excuse me?” You let out a small laugh. You’d kissed him and he was calling you stupid? What the hell?

“I can’t believe it took you that long to realize.” Leon shook his head, making you roll your eyes. He’d been jealous the whole time. So the comment of how weird it’d been that Ashley would kiss you — and actually had — was exactly what you thought. Huh, you were some amateur detective.

“Shut up,” you smiled, mumbling as you crossed your arms over your chest, sinking into the seat.

“Nope.” Leon shook his head, making you smile wider.

Maybe these tests wouldn’t be so bad, now that you had two kisses to think on. One you could only ever remember, and one you could receive a million more of once all this was over.

how you can help Palestine! 🇵🇸

[babygirl-diaz]

Tattooed Golden Retriever

This is once again dedicated to @sarastars who gave me the idea for the fic.

Considering what's going on in the show right now, it kinda hurt writing this.

Summary: 5 Times Eddie scratches Buck's head and he falls asleep + 1 time he doesn't and Eddie kisses him.

***

i. Eddie was busy reading a spy novel on the couch when he felt something heavy on his lap. He looked down to see Buck smiling up at him.

"Uh... Hello?" Eddie chuckled, and his hand automatically moved into Buck's hair.

"Mmmm... Read to me," Buck mumbled and made himself comfortable, practically nuzzling Eddie's thigh like a cat, making him feel all sorts of things that he refused to acknowledge. "Also, give me head scratches."

"If I do that, you're gonna fall asleep, Buck, and Bobby will not be happy," Eddie told him but absentmindedly scratched his head.

"I don't care," Buck replied and made happy noises as Eddie continued to scratch his head. "Now read to meeeeee..." He whined and bumped his nose against Eddie's thigh.

Eddie sighed and started reading. "The rain slashed across the grimy windows of the safe house, mirroring the tension that thrummed through Anya Petrova's veins. She clutched the burner phone, its cold metal a stark contrast to the warmth radiating from the freshly brewed cup of tea in her other hand. The voice on the other end of the line crackled with static, but Anya recognized it instantly. It was her handler-" Eddied stopped when he heard snoring and looked down to see that Buck had fallen asleep.

"He's like a goddamn puppy," Chimney commented as he sat down on the armchair with his bowl of fruit.

"More like a tattooed golden retriever," Eddie said fondly and smiled at a sleeping Buck as he continued to gently run his fingers through his curls.

"Mmmhmm..." Chimney hummed

Eddie looked up to find his coworker and friend giving him a knowing look before going back to his fruit bowl.

***

ii. It was the end of a very long shift and Eddie was getting ready to go home when Buck sat down beside him on the locker room bench with a heavy sigh. He put his head on Eddie's shoulder and let out another sigh. "'m tired," Buck complained.

Eddie lifted his hand to scratch Buck's head, who made a delighted sound.

"Yeah, I'm tired too," Eddie replied, yawning. "We all are. It was a long-ass shift."

Eddie kept scratching Buck's head and soon heard soft snoring. "Buck?" He called out but got no response in return.

"No," Eddie mumbled. He knew he wouldn't be able to move until Buck woke up. Because Eddie would rather die than wake him up. So he instead kept scratching his head and put his own head down on top of Buck's, closing his eyes.

***

iii. The next time it happened, they were at a BBQ at Bobby and Athena's place. Eddie sat on the floor talking to Karen and Hen while eating his lunch when he felt someone sit beside him. He looked over to find Buck smiling at him like a goof. "What?" He asked.

"I need head scratches," Buck replied like a little child.

Eddie blushed a little and looked at Hen and Karen to find them giving him an amused look.

Buck removed the empty plate from Eddie's lap and put it on the coffee table before putting his head down instead. "Head scratches! " He demanded.

Eddie rolled his eyes and started scratching Buck's head, letting his blunt fingernails move through the curls in slow motion.

He went back to talking to Hen and Karen like this was the most normal thing in the world. They looked a little confused before continuing the conversation.

Soon Buck fell asleep on Eddie's lap and Eddie gave him a fond glance.

"What?" He asked when he found Hen and Karen giving him a knowing look, similar to the one Chimney had given him a couple weeks ago.

"Nothing," Karen replied with a shrug. "You two are so comfortable with each other."

"We've been friends for 8 years," Eddie replied. He couldn't believe his own ears as he said that.

"You ever thought of having something more with him?"

Eddie was taken aback by Karen's question and saw Hen bumping her shoulder against her wife's, and shaking her head.

Eddie blushed once again and shook his head. "We're just meant to be friends."

"Of course," Karen replied with a smirk.

***

iv. During one of their calls, the 118 ended up saving a puppy that was only a few months old. The golden retriever was adorable, and Eddie loved dogs, so he took charge of the dog while they waited for her family to come and take her. She followed Eddie around everywhere and Eddie fed her food that Bobby made for her and also sneakily fed her some from his plate. After dinner, Sheena, as her name tag had suggested her name was decided she wanted to play. Eddie found a ball in the lost-and-found box and threw it for her, which she went and caught and brought back to him. Then she started giving him kisses, making him laugh and roll around on the floor of the fire station loft.

"Sheena, stop!" Eddie laughed and grabbed her face, giving her kisses in return.

She put her chin down on Eddie's knee when she finished playing and Eddie immediately knew what she wanted. He chuckled and started scratching her head and behind her ear. As he kept doing that, Sheena soon fell asleep with her chin on Eddie's lap.

Eddie heard someone clear their throat and looked up from the floor to see Buck pouting at him. "What's wrong?" Eddie asked worriedly.

"She's taking my place," Buck huffed and sat down beside Eddie.

"She's a three-month-old puppy, Buck," Eddie reminded him.

"I don't care. The head scratches are mine," Buck said possessively and lay down on the floor, putting his head on Eddie's other thigh.

"Buck, what are you doing?" Eddie laughed. "Come on, get up."

"Give me head scratches!" Buck demanded, like he always did.

"Buck, everyone is looking," Eddie told him but moved his other hand into Buck's hair, anyway.

"I don't care. No one is taking my head scratches away from me," Buck adamantly told him.

Eddie sighed and ran his fingers through Buck's scalp, scratching it gently.

Just as always, Buck was soon asleep.

"Eddie, the Smith family are he-" Bobby stopped mid-sentence and raised his eyebrows.

"Do you mind taking Sheena? I can't get up," Eddie told him.

Bobby sighed and nodded, "Okay." He went to pick up Sheena, who woke up and started squirming.

Eddie gave her a sad look and let her give him kisses again. He gave her kisses too and then watched sadly as Bobby carried her away.

***

v. Buck, Eddie, and Christopher were playing video games at Buck's loft with Eddie sitting in between Buck and Christopher. Buck and Eddie were playing against each other and Christopher was cheering them on, taking Buck's side this time. Eddie ended up winning and high-fived himself while Buck and Christopher booed him. But then Buck put his head on Eddie's shoulder and yawned. "Head scratches," he demanded as always.

Eddie snorted and shook his head. "Such a child," he teased and started scratching Buck's head at an awkward angle.

He looked at Christopher to find him giving them a confused look.

"It's a new thing with him, where he wants head scratches and then falls asleep," Eddie explained.

Christopher grinned and put his head down on Eddie's other shoulder. "Head scratches," he demanded as well.

To say that Eddie was surprised would be an understatement. He never expected his 16-year-old son to demand head scratches from him but he'd be damned if he denied the request. Some part of his brain said, "Like father, like son," but he ignored it.

Smiling widely, he started running his fingers through Christopher's curls as well.

Soon both Buck and Christopher were fast asleep while Eddie stayed wide awake between them, happily giving them head scratches.

***

i. Eddie was trying to finish the novel on his bed while Buck and Christopher played games in the living room. It was summer vacation so Eddie let Christopher stay up late, but in the end, it looked like it was Buck who was exhausted. These days, he slept in Eddie's room when he stayed over because something had shifted in their relationship. Eddie wasn't sure what though. So when Buck came into the room, Eddie looked up from his book and smiled. "You good?" He asked.

Buck fell face-first into Eddie's lap. "I'm tired," he mumbled.

"And you want head scratches?" Eddie asked, chuckling.

Buck turned around and put his head on Eddie's lap before nodding, "Love how you know me so well."

Eddie ran his fingers through Buck's hair and Buck yawned but smiled goofily up at Eddie instead of sleeping like usual. He looked so beautiful, so peaceful, though.

"C-can I kiss you?" The words were out of Eddie's mouth before he could stop himself and he nervously bit down on his bottom lip.

"Thought you'd never ask," Buck replied, smirking.

Eddie leaned down and captured Buck's lips in a gentle, chaste kiss.

When he pulled away, Buck looked at him with a pout. "What was that? I expected more from you!"

Buck sat up on his knees and pulled Eddie close, kissing him hard. Eddie let out a choked sound in the kiss, which Buck swallowed. In his two years dating men, Eddie had never been kissed like this.

[groovebunker]

i’m gonna be obnoxious about this and people are just going to have to be cool about that. yes? good.

happy birthday to what would you do (if they ever found us out) (affectionately known as wwyd)!!! a year ago today, i posted chapter one and (i’m not being dramatic here) i think it changed my life?

little backstory: i’m a dyke with eyes and a type, so when i watched fran drescher making impassioned speeches about labour rights, i was both smitten and reminded that i’d been meaning to watch the nanny. i was also (mostly unbeknownst to me) about as mentally ill as i’ve ever been in my life. i was halfway through a phd which i loved but it was making me so, so unwell. anyway, i started watching the nanny as some kind of escapism and one night, i was like…has anyone thought of fran and cc kissing on the mouth? and they had (obviously) and so i started thinking about that and how whine cellar is a deeply disappointing episode in so many ways and then i was like ‘i can fix that! with a one shot!’.

fast fwd to april 2024. i’m in my favourite city in the world. i’m posting the 11th chapter of that one shot far too late at night (sorry sara). it’s ended up about 85k words long. i’m no longer a phd candidate. i’m significantly less mentally ill. and i’ve spent the last 8 or so months being held by a group of people i would never have met if i had never started writing again.

i didn't quit my phd to write fan fiction, obviously. but writing fic helped me realise how unhappy i was because it was something that gave me joy in a time that was so fucking bleak. i don't really like thinking about it too much but it wasn't great. and then i had this lifeline. these two idiots (affectionate) falling in love with one another, not only in wwyd but all the other fics i was writing. and talking about with people who were commenting and finding me on tumblr. and then, eventually, we weren't just talking about fran and cc, we were talking about our lives! because we were friends!

people will tell you before you start a phd that it's a lonely experience. i was the only history student in my cohort. i only met one of my supervisors in person at his leaving drinks. i have two friends i met at my uni, one of whom was the first person i told that i had to quit. i had other friends and an incredible, loving, patient partner, and they were amazing. but still, it was lonely.

and then i just fucking wasn't.

january ‘24, the squad evolved from being my stupid tumblr tag to being the most chaotic group chat i have ever been part of (until nic got us nicely organised). a week or so later, i quit the phd. and i told a bunch of people i’d never met that i was dropping out of grad school and they were so fucking kind. i will never forget that. the squad, in all its iterations, will have my heart for my whole life. i will not rest until i have annoyed you all in person. my dream is winning the lottery and flying you all to a villa in spain for a week so i can cook you dinner (and cass can make bread) every night and drink wine and splash about in the sun (or in sara’s case, hide in the shade and probably yell at us to put sun screen on). when i say i love you, i mean it so wholly and truly.

anyway, back to wwyd. it’s not my first fic. i’ve been writing on and off for 15 long, long years. but i hadn't written a ton for a while (other than my aloto fic bc gretson my beloved) and i really kind of expected to get a couple of comments and a few kudos. i just had a story that wanted to get out so i published the first few chapters in really rather quick succession (i’m sorry to anyone who reads my stuff, my adhd is too bad for a posting schedule) and people…loved it? like, really loved it. which was so nice because i’m gonna be honest, there was not an adoring audience for my academic work (perils of being a genocide scholar). and i know it's become quite a few people’s comfort fic. i know people have reread it, more than once in some cases, which feels wild. people have left the most wonderful comments, said the kindest things, drawn gorgeous art, made a fanmix (which is fucking amazing), followed along on this journey which i did not expect them to do.

i don't have favourite children (b&w fans, i promise you, the next chapter is in the works) but if i did, wwyd might be one. sure, she's my difficult eldest child. but she got me into a fandom for the first time in years, she’s given me friends i know I will hold onto for the rest of my life, she reminded me how much fun writing can be. and she’s spawned so much more because she made me so much more confident as a writer.

so i don't think i’m being overdramatic when i say it changed my life. if you’d told me all of this when i hit publish on chapter one last year, i would have told you to fuck off. relatively vehemently. but i’m better now. and i’m so fucking grateful for this fic for being part of what gave me that.

anyway, thanks for letting me be a bit self indulgent - promise you don't have to sit through this ever again (maybe for won't you when i finally get it done. i’m sorry. i’m verbose). and once again, to everyone who has read wwyd, given it kudos, commented, reblogged a chapter on tumblr, all of it, my eternal thanks. i couldn't have done it without you.

finally, because i cannot say it enough, to the squad, you have my whole heart. it’s actually mad to me that this time last year, i had no idea who any of you were. your stamp on the last few chapters of wwyd is indelible. your stamp on my life is somehow more permanent than that. thank you. ilsym 🫶���

[neil-neil-orange-peel]

A Bastard's Carol: a work of fanfiction by scumbaganarchy 💣

Season's greetings, scumbags! I hope you're all having a pleasant day. I come bearing a gift (of a sort):

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1we8qEVul2PTWFCtaVqyyXccVg8-xZBte/view?usp=sharing

A huge thank you to @viviangreeneart for the awesome art! ❤️ It turns out we should all definitely be making fake novel docs out of our fanfic. It's good for the soul.

Some pretentiousness about ABC below the cut.

Just over five years ago, a naiver version of me had the idea of writing a Young Ones/Rivyan parody of A Christmas Carol. She started actually writing for this idea in December 2019... and promptly discovered it was going to be a whole lot bigger than she'd anticipated. With one chapter posted before the big day, she decided to kick the rest into the new year.

That new year was 2020.

Yes, that 2020. Although, to be fair, what other one could I be talking about?

We'll skip all of that. None of us need to relive it.

One year, two or three lockdowns, and four indefensibly long chapters later, ABC was finally done and dusted in December 2020. It stood at around 60K words, making it by far the longest thing I'd ever written. I guess we all had to spend that empty time doing something, right?

Followers of this blog will have noticed, I'm sure, that I've never shut up about ABC since. Maybe you even rolled your eyes when you saw the title of this notification? Uh oh, she's going on about that old thing again...

Yep.

Look, I'm incredibly bad at hyping up my own work - self-deprecation is a bad habit, but a common one - and the more time that passes between who you were when you wrote something and who you are today, the harder being positive about it can get.

I was 18 when I wrote ABC. I had only gotten back into writing properly at 17. The whole work went through one major copy edit a year or so ago, when I knew a little more about writing - but I still didn't know as much then as I do now, and I suspect (and hope) the same will be true for a future version of myself when she looks back on my writing from this time.

All of this is to say, sometimes ABC reads to me as something written by somebody else. 18 year old me didn't write exactly the way I do now; she hadn't gotten the Bachelor of Arts cheat code boost that I have. But she was extremely passionate. She did love the bastards Rik and the gang created with all her heart. She'd also studied A Christmas Carol for her GCSEs only a couple of years previously, so she did at least understand the text she was taking a chainsaw to. I think all of this mattered. I think this gave ABC heart.

But what's my point in saying all of this (again)?

For a very long time, I've wanted but held back on commissioning an artist to draw me a cover. Well, no more. Truly, thank you ever so much to @viviangreeneart for indulging me and creating something fabulous for this old fic of mine. Thank you too to everyone who has ever commented on or kudos'ed ABC on ao3 over the years. It really does mean more to me than I can say.

Having dropped a new and flashy PDF decked out like an actual novel, here's the link to ABC on ao3, which will always be its home:

Merry Christmas, scumbags. Cliff bless us, Everyone!

[wintrwinchestr]

bad girl (joel miller x f!reader oneshot) 18+

summary: you broke one of joel's rules, and he punishes you for it. but he can never stay disappointed with you for long, not when all you wanna do is be his good girl.

warnings: 18+ (inappropriate language & allusion to smut), big time daddy kink!!! (bordering on ddlg?), pet names (babygirl, lil' girl, sweetheart, darlin,' sugar, honey), punishment, spanking (not very descriptive), lil bit of subspace, protective daddy!joel, no physical description of reader, lil bit of humiliation, praise, please let me know if i missed anything or should correct something!!

word count: 1.6k

a/n: hi!! this is the first fic i've written in like 5 or 6 years, and definitely the first creative writing i've done in a long time. i also don't really know how to write smut but i'm hoping to learn how and get more confidence to try more writing!! (nice/polite) comments welcome, thank you for reading!!

Crouching behind a large, moss-covered tree stump, you curiously observed the doe and two fawns grazing just a couple of yards in front of you. You tried to keep your breathing quiet and shallow so as not to startle them, a task that proved difficult with the way your heart was nervously pounding. You knew you weren’t allowed outside of Jackson’s walls without Joel, but you had overheard some of the others talking about a family of deer they had seen on the woods’ perimeter as they returned from their patrol. You were eager to see them for yourself, even if it meant breaking one of Joel’s rules.

The sharp sound of a branch snapping behind you caused the creatures to swiftly bound away, and you quickly turned around with a startled gasp.

You almost screamed, thinking you would turn your head to see an Infected approaching you. Instead, your stomach dropped at the sight of Joel, sporting a disappointed scowl. Your heartrate quickened even further, knowing you were caught disobeying him. You suddenly felt like one of the scared little fawns as you were still crouched below his towering form.

“The hell do you think you’re doin’ out here, sweetheart?” He asked in a low tone, slowly approaching you while staring daggers into your nervous gaze.

“I… I was just… just wanted to see the…” you tried to explain, looking around and gesturing to where the deer had been standing just a few seconds ago.

“Up,” he ordered, making a motion with his pointer finger for you to stand up. You obeyed immediately, knowing better than to not follow his commands at this point. “Turn around, and walk until I tell you to stop. Hold your hands behind your back.” His voice sounded dark, rumbling from deep in his chest.

You turned your back to him, and let out another little gasp when he came up behind you and gripped the back of your neck, your cue to start walking.

After several minutes of trudging deeper into the damp forest with your hands held obediently behind your back and your head hung low, Joel ordered you to stop once you had reached a small clearing. He released his hand from its firm grip at the base of your skull and spun you around to face him.

“On your knees f’ me, babygirl. Come on now...”

You followed his order without hesitation and knelt at his feet, the cool forest floor providing some relief to your flushed skin. 

Unable to bring yourself to look at him on your own, Joel gripped your chin between his thumb and pointer finger and tilted your head, forcing your gaze upward.

“You look at me when I’m speakin’ t’ you,” he demanded, giving your chin a little shake. “Y’ know why I came and found you, why I marched you all the way out here? Hm? Don’t you think about lyin’ to me, lil’ girl…”

You struggled to nod your head against his tight grip, your eyes beginning to water. You started to reach your hands toward his crotch in a desperate attempt to please him and shift the focus away from your disobedience.

“Nuh uh, you keep those hands behind your fuckin’ back, babygirl. You dont’ get to touch Daddy ‘til you admit t’ what you did. Tell Daddy… were you a good girl or a bad girl today, hm?”

You did as he ordered and returned your hands to their previous resting position against the small of your back. You didn’t want to admit to him or yourself that you had messed up today, broken one of the rules he had for you. But you knew that you were already caught, he already knew the truth, and you were getting punished no matter what.

“B… Bad girl, Daddy,” you confessed, your voice coming out small and meek.

“Yeah, tha’s right. You were a bad fuckin’ girl today.” Your obedient admission of guilt prompted him to shift his harsh demeanor to a softer one. “Why were you a bad girl, darlin’, huh? Tell Daddy what you did.” He could never stay too mean with you for long, he loved you too much to not be sweet on you. 

He began to comb his fingers across your scalp, and the sensation made your eyelids start to feel heavy, sending you deeper into your soft state of submission. Still kneeling, you shuffled closer to him, and this time, he allowed you to wrap your hands around his calf. 

“I- I left the town by myself… Didn’ tell you where I was goin’...” 

“Yeah, you sure did, honey. And why does that make you a bad girl, hm? Come on, don’t float away from me jus’ yet.” He gave your cheek a soft pat, bringing you back down to Earth a bit.

“B- because I made Daddy worry about me. Somethin’ b- bad could’ve happened to me and you wouldn’t’a kn- known where I was.” 

“Tha’s right, sugar. Thank you for bein’ honest with Daddy...” He stopped stroking your hair in favor of cupping the side of your face, softly rubbing your cheekbone with his thumb. Joel was always good at understanding you when you struggled to speak through your little hiccups and sobs. “You know you’re not suppose’ta leave Jackson without me, darlin’. It’s dangerous outside the walls, I gotta be with you, gotta protect my lil’ girl, yeah?”

“I know… I’m s- sorry, Daddy. Won’t h- happen again, I promise. Don’ wanna be a bad girl–”

“Shh, I know darlin’, I know,” he interrupted before you could get yourself too worked up, squatting down to your level and using his thumbs to softly wipe away a few tears that had spilled over onto your heated cheeks. “Always wanna be so good for me, isn’t that right? Sweet lil’ thing loves bein’ Daddy’s good girl, doesn’t she?”

“Yes, Daddy, love bein’ good for you, always wanna be good for you...”

“I know, honey, I know. But you were bad today, breakin’ my rules. The rules I have to keep you safe, to protect you... I think that deserves at least a few spankin’s, don’t ya think? Hm? Since you were honest with Daddy, I’ll make ‘em softer today. Ten sound okay, sugar?”

You gave him an eager nod, more willing to accept your punishment now that he promised not to spank you too hard. He raised his eyebrows at your silent response, not completely satisfied.

“Yes, Daddy,” you spoke up to correct yourself.

“Good girl, tha’s better. C’mon over here, over my knee. We’ll do ten spanks, and if you take all of ‘em without any whinin’, I’ll let you have a lil’ treat… How’s that sound?”

“Sounds good, Daddy…” You nodded, starting to calm down a bit. You got up from your kneeling position and made your way over to where Joel was now sat on a fallen log. He patted his thighs with a “C’mere, baby,” and you obediently bent yourself over his lap. He reached underneath your tummy to unbutton your jeans and gently pulled them down, along with your panties, to expose your plush bottom to him.

He delivered the ten spanks, making them softer than usual as promised, but they stung nonetheless. After all, they still had to hurt a little bit if you were going to learn your lesson and remember to follow his rules. 

You thanked him for your punishment and stood up, facing him, but still struggled to look him in the eye and felt guilty for disobeying him.

“I really am sorry, Daddy…” you said quietly, almost a whisper.

He used one hand to gently lift up your chin to make your eyes meet, and the other to stroke through your hair again.

“I know y’ are, honey. Thank you for apologizing to Daddy. You took your punishment so well for me, baby, my good lil’ girl... Daddy just wants to keep you safe, tha’s all… You know that, right? You know that’s why Daddy’s gotta punish you sometimes?”

You nodded in understanding as he pulled your underwear back up over your bottom and eyed the wet spot that had begun to form on the front of them.

“Oh, sweetheart, look at that… Looks like we might have to find a different punishment to use from now on, won’t we? Seems like you might enjoy this one a bit too much… My naughty girl…” He ran his knuckles over the damp fabric, making you whimper at the contact. “Why don’t we get you back to the house and take care of this needy pussy, hm? Can’t even get a spankin’ without her droolin’ for me…”

“Please, Daddy…” your breath hitched as you rocked into his touch, arousal heating up at his brief humiliation.

“Patience, babygirl… Eager lil’ thing… I said if you took your spankin’s without any whinin’ you’d get a treat, didn’t I?” He pulled your jeans back up over your underwear and buttoned them, giving you one last soft pat on your bottom before standing back up to his full height. “C’mon, sweet girl, let’s get you taken care of…”

You walked with him hand-in-hand back to Jackson, your bottom still stinging with each step, but feeling grateful for your Joel who loves you, protects you, gives you a firm hand when you need it, and takes care of all of your needs. The pair of you got some knowing and slightly judgmental looks from some of the more gossipy townsfolk as you re-entered the gates of Jackson, but you couldn’t have cared less. Not when your Daddy was about to take you up to his bedroom, lay you down on his bed, and make you feel like the most perfect girl in what’s left of the world. His perfect girl.

[3terna15unshin3]

Connected

—

A/N: idea came from this ask, so thank u anon🥰🥰 it was so fun to think of how Matty and Este’s relationship was seen from the other side like what fans pick up on, and also establish how much they decide to share with fans vs keep to themselves. this concept is so interesting to me but i had a hard time writing from the pov of a fan hahaha so i just did it this way instead :))

This obvs is based heavily on TBSG lore so none of this makes sense if you haven’t read the main fic - go do that first!! and also check out the Instagram AUs, they add to the pizazz

—

“Love, look what I just saw on Twitter. This is hilarious.”

Este points her phone screen towards Matty as they sit in bed on a Sunday morning. He yawns, tired and still half asleep, then blinks his eyes a few times to read what she’s showing him. It’s a tweet from a fan that sits in her mentions from a couple of days ago when a clip from his Zane Lowe interview resurfaced.

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

thinking about the fact that matty mentioned meeting e.manansala when she worked at a bookstore in manc to zane and in this 2018 interview he said his fav spot in the city is Greenhouse Books …….. what are the chances this is the same bookstore bc that would be so😭😭😭💔💔💔💔 https://manchesterwire.co.uk/?s=matty+healy+give-yourself-a-try/arts&culture/article

jaymie SAW UNDO LIVE trmanb1ackk

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND

Hold on you might be onto something

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

→ Replying to trmanb1ackk

right like okaayyy bookstore worker x customer to lovers notting hill pipeline????? 🤭 huge if true

She watches his eyes scan over the text and a fuzzy smile grow on his face. Matty loves talking about Este when he can—to bring some much deserved attention to her writing—and did so often, but does’t always mention many the details of their relationship. That was until strolling around the Northern Quarter with Zane brought a bit of it out of him.

Este is what brings him back to Manchester the most often, from visiting her family and Cate and Georgia to just needing a bit of a homey feeling from its familiar pubs and nostalgic shops. So, naturally, Matty talked about her in the interview done for the release of Being Funny—explaining how they’d met and how much the city means to them both.

“How they put two and two together is beyond me,” he says, scratching his head. “That Manchester Wire interview was five years ago now, you know. Did you ever read that?”

She chuckles. “Course I did! We had a few fans come in that summer with the sole intention of coming to a place you recommended, actually.”

“Why have you never told me that?” Matty asks, “You’re welcome for the business, by the way.”

“You never even told me about your little shout out, to be fair. I had to find out on my own,” Este teases. “Plus, we weren’t even a thing at that point—we’d met once! Quite creepy, in retrospect.”

“When you put it like that it’s honestly so cringe so please change the subject now.” Matty buries his head in the bunches of sheets that sit in her lap, embarrassed and frankly too sleepy to defend himself.

Este giggles, letting her hands settle into his curls. “Oh c’mon, you weren’t cringe. I’m just pulling your leg. It was sweet,” she reassures him.

“You’re just saying that because you feel bad,” he whines, then rubs his eyes to try and get the sleep out of them. “That’s so crazy that they dug that up, though. I’m not sure if many people know you’ve been around since then.”

“They probably looked at your life in 2019 and figured you were a rockstar with a new girl in every city but in reality you were calling me to get to sleep every night and doing origami in your free time because it reminded you of me.”

Matty’s jaw drops at her blunt comments. “I was about to get mad but I can’t even disagree.” He sits up, raking the hair out of his eyes. “Do people still use the word ‘simp’? Can that be applied to this situation? Was I a simp?”

She throws her head back, mouth wide, as she laughs at how ridiculous his question is.

“Please don’t say ‘simp’, love. You’re 34.” Este squeezes out between her giggles, “But no, people don’t use that word anymore. And yes it can be applied. And also yes, you were. And still are.”

“Proudly am,” he adds.

She leans into his side and he snakes his arm around her waist. They sit there, Matty only in a pair of pyjama pants and her an oversized tee, scrolling through the funny replies to the tweet and how big of a deal some fans were making it.

“You should respond. Tell Megs that she’s right.”

“Seriously?” Este asks, shocked that he’d want her to engage in something so meaningless and speculative.

But alas, he nods casually with a smile. “Yeah. They seem sweet, and just curious. And maybe being such a simp will give me some brownie points,” confirms Matty.

“God, enough of that word!”

Este e.manansala

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND

Can confirm🤝

liv livmymistake_

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND and e.manansala

MEGS OH MY GOD

Jude 🥾🌎 ittsjudesk

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND and e.manansala

UMMMMMMMMMMM

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

→ Replying to e.manansala

omg hi😭😭😭 are being fr i can’t cope

Este e.manansala

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND

Greenhouse is the bookstore i worked at and is where matty and i met that year:)) and hi💌

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

→ Replying to e.manansala

i think i’m psychic for guessing that🤭🤭🤭🤭

—

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

k now i’m going crazy bc i had no clue him and este had been dating for that long💀 was genuinely convinced it had been 3 years max

Jude 🥾🌎 ittsjudesk

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND

Literally they didn’t post each other until like 2020

sarah🧸 _102sar

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND

I think she was at the 2018 Pryzm show too. Not sure but I was at the after party and remember seeing her there lol

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

→ Replying to _102sar

WHAT…….. this lore being uncovered omg

“Someone recognises you from the Brief Inquiry album release show?!” exclaims Matty in disbelief. “There’s no way.”

They still sit in bed as Este types away, having fun interacting with the small group. He leans his head on her shoulder and watches her as she does it.

“They’ve known you longer than I have, you know. They know their stuff,” she responds.

“Even I don’t remember you being at the Pryzm show.”

Este’s mouth falls open in shock, thoroughly offended. “You prick.”

“I’m joking!” Matty defends through fits of laughter. “C’mon E, I’m joking.”

She knows he is, but enjoys the theatrics of it all; shoving his head off her shoulder and scooting away from his touch in protest.

“That was a special night for me! The first time I saw you play and met the guys! Don’t make fun!” Este pouts, crossing her arms playfully.

“Fine. I take it back, I take it back,” Matty begs, dragging her back over to him and bringing her legs over top of his. He grabs her hand and places a kiss on her palm. “I remember meeting Cate, and introducing you to Louis. And Ross making fun of my gallbladder surgery, and leaving Cate on the dance floor to get drinks, and screaming at each other over the music at the bar. You telling me about the anniversary party. I very much remember!”

“Okay, okay. Enough gushing. I forgive you.”

Matty pecks her palm once more and shuffles her even closer. “Open Twitter back up. This is fun.”

Jude 🥾🌎 ittsjudesk

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND and _102sar

This is absolutely shocking bc how did his chronically online ass manage to hide a whole gf that long

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

→ Replying to ittsjudesk

fr!!! like do we think she was on the abiior tour with them bc i swear jordan absolutely fed us with so much bts content it would be impossible to miss?? someone dig

sarah🧸 _102sar

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1D and ittsjudesk

If u scroll back on her IG u can see Matty in her comments since then. And they’d repost each other on their stories and stuff🥲 So not that hidden if ur a stalker like me lmao

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

→ Replying to _102sar

thoroughly upset that i missed so much bf matty content </3

Este e.manansala

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND and _102sar

Ignore me stalking u🤭🤭 i was indeed at that Pryzm show lol but we weren’t dating yet. And during abiior tour I saw a few UK shows but otherwise i was just in Manc working/being a bad groupie x

Este e.manansala

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND

Also matty is sitting beside me now and he is cool with me filling u in (it was his idea) and he says hi. and that u guys are cute

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

→ Replying to e.manansala

ohhh yes u are a working woman how could i forget!! bookstore worker/groupie same difference. thank u for responding😭 u are the coolest❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 (also hi matty😳)

Jude 🥾🌎 ittsjudesk

→ Replying to e.manansala

Hi Matty sorry for calling u chronically online x

Este e.manansala

→ Replying to ittsjudesk

He forgives you (but it’s true imo)

liv livmymistake_

→ Replying to e.manansala

este wait i have to know …. since u are a former bookstore girlie turned writer are u the reason matty periodically spam posts a bunch of literature on his instagram stories???? did u convert him to bookstoregirlieism??

Este e.manansala

→ Replying to livmymistake_

I am obsessed with the idea that he was illiterate before meeting me so i’m gonna say yes. thank u for that

Este e.manansala

→ Replying to livmymistake_

Liv it’s me I stole the phone and don’t appreciate this sentiment tbh. You should know I’ve always been a wanker so all the literature spams are just me letting that out and este just enables me. hope that helps x Matty

[iam93percentstardust]

It's not just the commodification of fandom. It's not just the disinterest in wips in favor of completed stories. It's not just the unwillingness to take chances on new writers.

It's the demand for instant gratification too.

I'm posting a "wip" right now. It's actually a fully completed story, and I stated that in the A/N when I started posting it a few weeks ago. I finished writing it early in December. It's not going to be abandoned and discontinued. Short of a tragic accident, it will 100% be posted in its entirety before the end of January.

It's also almost 60k words long. Each chapter is approximately 14k words. That's a lot to expect people to read quickly, so I made the decision to post weekly instead of dumping it all at once. I don't normally do that for wips. I normally post bimonthly to give myself time to write the next chapter. But in concession to the fact that this one is already finished, I decided to post once a week. Could I have posted it all at once or even once a day? Sure, but again, I have more than a few close friends who are slow readers, and I thought it was better to give people the time to read each chapter and let it digest before dumping another one on them instead of making them feel like they have to read it immediately so they don't miss the next update.

This, apparently, was a mistake.

I've been very open about working on this fic since I started it in September. People told me they were excited to get the chance to read it every time I posted an update about where I was in the writing process. When I announced that I was posting it, they told me that they couldn't wait to read it. It's not like I was expecting massive numbers of kudos and comments; this fandom has shrunk in size and engagement, I'm not the most popular writer in it, and I try not to feel entitled to engagement, but considering all the people telling me they were excited for it, I was expecting something.

Instead it was crickets. All those people who were so excited and told me they couldn't wait to get home to read it? That was the last I heard from them, unless it was to express outright incredulity that I expected them to read a work in progress. "It's not a work in progress!" I protested. "I'm just taking a little longer to post it!" Yeah, but it's not posted all in one go, so why should we bother to read it? We'll just wait until the end of January once it's finished. "Will I hear from you then? Will I get any indication at all that you liked it?" Eh, maybe. If we feel like it. But it'll only be one comment at the very end. If that.

This keeps happening. If it's not an already completed chaptered fic that I'm posting over time instead of immediately, then it's an idea that I had first talked about a while ago but took a couple months to write only to be met with silence once I start posting because everyone moved on and forgot about it. If it's not ready to go right now in all its fully finished glory and all 60k words posted immediately after I first spoke about it, then why am I talking about it at all? Why should I expect people to be waiting in anticipatory eagerness?

I remember when I posted my first Christmas event fic in 2020. It was already finished too when I started posting it. I'd been talking about it all year. People had seemed really excited for it when I first mentioned it, but then interest seemed to die out somewhere around August. By the time I started posting it in late November, I was fully convinced that no one was going to read it. I actually posted the first chapter and then immediately turned my computer off and didn't let myself turn it back on until the next day.

I was shocked by the number of readers I had. The number of comments. The sheer amount of people telling me they'd been waiting on tenterhooks for me to post that first chapter. And it kept coming. People were talking and theorizing and marking their conversations with spoiler bars for anyone who hadn't read the latest chapter. People timed when I posted the first few chapters so they could be waiting by their computer for when I dropped the next one. I was randomly gifted art. It was really an event, and I'll always be grateful for the support and community I was given for that month.

I never believed I'd ever be able to capture that kind of readership again, and I was right, and that's okay. But when I posted last year's Christmas event fic, for the first time since I started doing this in 2020, someone asked me why I bothered to space it out over a month instead of just posting the entire thing in one go on Christmas Day and how could I possibly expect them to be that invested for an entire month instead of just waiting until it was finished. I didn't know how to tell them that only three years prior, that's not only exactly what people did but they were excited for it to be like that.

If I'm not going to post my already completed fic in one lump sum right now, then the audience for it is nonexistent. And the audience won't grow once it's finished. It's like I have one opportunity to capture the readers and if they weren't willing to take the chance on the first chapter, then they'll never come back. It's disheartening, to say the least. Only six months ago, I was telling a friend that I thought this was my forever pairing, that I'd still be writing for this ship when I was old and grey. And now I'm going through my ideas folder, wondering what can be repurposed for other ships, because I increasingly feel not just that I'm shouting into a void but that the void is actively ignoring me.

I can't post wips because what if I abandon them or take too long to update? I can't post a chaptered fic in one go because that's too many words to expect people to read. But I can't space out posting completed chaptered fics either because everyone wants the instant gratification of the full fic right now. So what am I supposed to do?

I miss December 2020, but it's not the random art that I miss or the kudos or the number of comments. It was the community that built up around this fic. It was knowing that it was okay to space out the chapters because everyone was still right there with me, talking and theorizing and using their spoiler bars. It was my audience trusting me enough to come along with me for the ride instead of waiting for me to be done. I was so scared back then that the full year between me first talking about the idea and posting the first chapter had lost me my audience, scared that they'd all forgotten about me and moved on to other authors who were quicker to post, but I wish I'd known that three years later, it would only take four months for people to lose interest in an idea.

I'd have treated December 2020 like it was way more special than I did.

[kureasblog]

hi friend! i saw the post you made about being discouraged to post a fic on ao3 because it's not the kind of thing that gets popular, and there were a couple things that stood out to me. before i start, i just want to clarify that, as a fellow fic writer, i am reaching out in support and kindness. <3

firstly, what i hear you saying is that your fic is "no fandom" and is populated with original characters. so, is it a fic, or is it simply an original work? if it's an original work, you might have better success on wattpad. i haven't used that platform in years, so things might have changed, but i remember the type of content you're talking about being popular there...

...which leads me to my main point. from what i've seen, social media platforms largely used by youth propels a mindset of 'popular = good' and anything that isn't mainstream isn't worth your time. i'd like to propose a counterpoint using two personal examples. first, one of my favourite fics ever, a tragic romance between two traumatized people, is well over fifty thousand words and only has 98 kudos. second, one of the fics i'm most proud of writing only has 5 kudos. how do these two fics correlate? the first example flips its characters' typical dynamic, knowingly writing something niche; the second was written for a movie that was released twelve years ago, for a pairing with exactly two fics.

knowing full well that neither fic would gain massive traction within their respective fandoms, why did we post them in the first place? because we wanted to share what we loving crafted with the world.

even though neither fic is "popular," why do i still value them? because they were written out of love for the characters, for the craft.

everyone is different; everyone writes for a different reason. this said, writing for kudos, for hits, for bookmarks and subscriptions and comments starts to drain you. i know because i had that mindset when i first started posting fanfic, and after a while of getting lost under the swell of better, bigger, more "popular" stories, i started to forget why i felt wanted to write. i got demoralized. i wanted to stop writing. eventually, i ended up orphaning my account and taking a three year hiatus, at the end of which i rediscovered that i write to feel good. i write to connect with the characters. i write to create the stories i want to read, stories that someone else might want to read too. if it isn't "popular"? no sweat...

...because in the end, whether you're posting "no fandom" or not, what you get out of the experience is personal. don't get discouraged for fear of being unpopular. don't give up because your story isn't what the masses want to read. if your story means something to you, it's worth telling.

<3

Hi!

First of all, thank you so much for taking the time to answer me☺️🤍

I have indeed considered wattpad, thing is the platform isn’t really like it used to be. Tho I’ll still try posting it there and maybe also here on tumblr:)

Like, sometimes it’s disappointing when i’m trying to connect with people through writing, and no one comments or seems interested in my story (especially when it feels like the majority prefers poorly written p0r.n stuff over stories people pour their hearts into) Even just one person enjoying is hugeeee, it’s like they become a friend, but when there’s no feedback (no comment/no kudos) it makes me overthink like, “did they read it and not like it?” it can be really discouraging.

But you’re so right, i do write to create the stories i want to read (i literally start writing fics after searching everywhere for something like I want and not finding it anywhere; and it’s exciting in a way to be the first one!) and maybe someone else will find them and really connect with them, too!:3 so tysm for reminding me😊💞

[annestie]

Headcanons for Ma' Yawntu #1

I have a ongoing fic posted on my Ao3 and I have some head-cannons for that au! I've just been collecting them so I thought I would post some because I finally have somewhere to put them. Warning, this will probably have like a ton of spoilers for the current chapters (1-19) in it!

1. Neteyam is not a crier. That's true until he's pregnant. After that it seems tears just want to pour from his eyes.

“I cannot believe this,” Neteyam says. Tears fall down his cheeks, dripping from his chin.

“Ma’ Yawntu, the fruit just fell in the sand. You only need to wash it,” Ao’nung reassures him.

“I know,” Neteyam responds through his tears.

2. Neteyam’s siblings basically live with him half the time. Ao’nung often comes home to all four siblings just hanging out there without Neteyam. They also particularly like to partake in the food Ao'nung and Neteyam have around their marui. The couple noticed this and they began to hunt and gather more food to make sure they always had something.

“Hello people who do not live here,” Ao’nung welcomes the other four.

“Hi!” Tuk says happily back.

“You guys have the best food,” Spider says as he continues munching on a bag of dried meat.

3. Jake had no idea that male na’vi could get pregnant. The moment he found out was when Neteyam said it. That’s why he waited for Neytiri to respond first before doing anything. But because its pandora, Jake just went with it and whatever reaction Neytiri had. Before he thought he only had to worry about Kiri and Tuk, he now worries about Lo’ak and, somewhat, Spider too. Also seriously questioned his decision to not have a longer talk with Neytiri about this.

“Is there anything else I should know?” Jake asks after the two of them arrive back to their marui.

“The reverse is true as well,” Neytiri states, “Some women can get others pregnant.” Yeah, Jake really should have listened closer to that training course all those years ago.

4. Neteyam naps like everywhere because of how tired he is due to his child. Like sometimes Ao’nung will be looking for him and just find him laying on a mangrove root or around the beach/forest asleep.

“Have you seen Neteyam?” Ao’nung asks. Kiri simply points above her, towards a mangrove root. There, Ao’nung sees Neteyam somehow curled atop it, sleeping.

5. Ao'nung really likes to compliment/flatter Neteyam.

“Why are you staring at me?” Neteyam asks as he undoes the tie to his loincloth. “You’ve already seen every part of me,” he comments throwing it aside with their other dirty clothes and grabbing a clean one to put on.

“I’ve seen the sunset thousands of times. It doesn’t stop me from looking,” Ao’nung tells him, looking him up and down.

Neteyam playfully rolls his eyes and finishes tying his new loincloth. “Skxáwng!” he calls out to the other man as he leaves their marui.

Ma' Yawntu is on my Ao3 account if you want to read it

#2

[beifong-brainrot]

why do you ship weilin ?

Honestly, great question lol. Like I think I've written up at least a small manifesto of why I think weilin would be an objectively intereating ship lol

But like, if you mean personally why this ship is so important to me, I suppose there's a rew reasons. When Korra was coming out, I only kept up with it up until b2 and then I kinda ended up dropping it.

It was a few years ago that my sister and I were introducing our cousin to Avatar and we ended up watching the whole of Atla and then tlok, including B3 and B4. I think I got really attached to Bolin because I could sympathise with being a pushover and people pleaser, so naturally I gravitated to having him as my fave character.

When we reached B3, I immediately had a bit of a dislike of Bopal, and sorta of Opal herself, since I didn't really look much into her character at all. It felt forced and shoehorned in to please the fans who were feeling bad for Bolin for having such poor luck with women. A sort of 'give that nice boy a girlfriend, he deserves it' type of thing, which wasn't compelling to me.

I didn't initially take much note of Wei other than most ppls 'aww they're cute and they love their mom'. I really liked the pebble scene, and I think it carried a lot what I like to see shine through with Bolin. I also really liked the phrasing Wei used, 'trial by fire' since I think it's kinda what Bolin needs to grow as a character. The challenges placed before him are always dismissed and therefore he doesn't develop from them, which is perhaps something he could achieve with Wei, who has proved good at and willing to challenge him.

And I think the face pat scene just sparked my interest further. My sister, my cousin and I rewinded a couple of times and like kinda laughed about why they did that. And then I was jokingly like 'yeah this could be a good fanfic'. And my cousin and sister kinda encouraged me to commit to the bit.... which is how "Let's Change the Subject" happened. Which is now very outdated and silly but aim still proud of it lol.

My sister was actually the first person to leave kudos on it, as a guest, since she doesn't really read fics. I don't think she saw it through to the end, but it encouraged me a lot, since she's not always this genuinely encouraging.

I remember taking an almost year long break in writing that fic, because my mental health was tanking severely and school was hell. At first I didn't plan to continue that fic. But for some reason I saw that like 5 ppl left comments on what was written and that strangely encouraged me. So I posted another chapter and I ended up sorta crawling out of a deep rut by using that fic. I genuinely loved writing it, which is probably why I actually ended up extending it way past the point I planned to end it. Because writing it made me happy.

And then I kinda ended up accidentally stumbling into the tlok fandom lol. At first I think I was basically only talking to @dudelymantits who was the only other weilin shipper online at the time. And somehow then my very random side blog became an Avatar blog. It's weird, but I'm not complaining.

As much as I complain and grumble about the Avatar fandom having its flaws, I genuinely love the source material, and I have met a lot of amazing and talented ppl here.

So I guess it's really corny, but I think one of the reasons I'm so sentimental about weilin is that it literally led me to you guys lol.

[theskee]

One of the funniest experiences I've ever had with The Purity Police in fandom on AO3 happened a couple years ago and every so often I remember that it happened and get a little laugh out of it all over again. I thought I'd share it today. Here's what happened: I wrote a fic tagged with an incestuous pairing and *only* that incestuous pairing. In the additional tags were the following things (after some general additional characters and setting details like "time travel):

Incest, identity fuckery, Accidental Incest, Underage Smoking, Underage Drinking, Underage Sex, Porn With Plot, Kinky, Violence, Sexual Frustration, Daddy Issues, Daddy Kink, Face Slapping, Embarrassment

This person commented on one of the early chapters that they liked a loose concept of a paradox created in the time travel element of the fic. Fast forward to a few days later on the FINAL CHAPTER OF THE FIC the following comment:

I feel like the fking incest tag should be like the first one?! Like what the actual fuck. I had hope that [the younger character's] crush would be handled in a mature non problematic non incest and appropriate way and that incest wasn't the literal endgame. I was severely mistaken. Stories containing incest arent inherently bad its how they are handled what makes them bad. This is genuenly disgusting. Remeber kids, incest is never okay or morally acceptable irl and if romanticized also harmful in media. I never wished to remove my kudos from something so badly ever before

My friend in fandom what did you think was gonna happen when the SINGLE PAIRING TAGGED WAS AN INCESTUOUS PAIRING?? What did you think INCEST followed by LOTS OF SEXUAL RELATED KINKY TAGS was gonna net you? WHY DID YOU KEEP READING IT? rEmEmBeR kIdS!~ INCEST IS BAD!!!! I had never previously encountered someone commenting on my works in such a manner before and when I tell you I laughed, uproariously, because it was absolutely a Dead Dove: Do Not Eat moment in the most explicit of ways. I cannot for the life of me figure out how they even found this fic if they didn't go looking for it, the pairing itself is hardly what one would call a juggernaut in the fandom, especially for a piece of media spanning over 30 years with hundreds of characters who get shipped together. (Though incest is relatively prevalent in this fandom because all the "main" characters over the years are from the same bloodline.) Here was my response, for anyone who wants to see how seriously I took this (see: I did not take it seriously at all).

oh god you're sooooo right. incest is so bad irl that's why i only engage with fictional incest! and tag it!! so no one has to read it if they don't like it or have the media literacy to engage with it in a nuanced and thoughtful way. i hope you find a [the incestuous pairing] fic without incest that suits your tastes good luck but my advice would be, if you see something tagged with an incestuous pairing that's marked as Explicit, and then in the additional tags there's also the "incest" and "accidental incest" tags plus "porn with plot" or "daddy kink" or "underage sex" maybe you should actually assume that the fic is what it says it is. you'll upset your tummy a lot less. hope this helps! :)

Anyway. Remember kids! The tags are there to tell you what's in the fic! Not the author's clever bait and switch to get you to read something morally pure!

[pebblysand]

Hey there. Just wanted to say thank you for sharing Castles with us. I was 16 when I stumbled upon this masterpiece. I turned 18 a couple of months ago. I came of age with this fic. Whenever things got too much, Castles was what I'd find an escape in. It has taught me so much, taught me how the world's never just black & white and how life can be messy yet worth living. Castles has been a safe place, really. I cried, laughed, mourned and loved along with the characters. Your writing has made me feel so much so deeply, and I'd feel those heartaches all over again in a heartbeat. The female characters especially are so strong, so nuanced, their beauty lies in their imperfections which you've portrayed with so much care . As we reach the end of this road, I hope you are proud of yourself. I hope you know that this fic of yours has left a lasting impact on me.

Oh and I've been meaning to ask, how are you feeling now that it's all out?

thank you so much. that means more to me than you can imagine. ❤️

as to your question... how am i? pfew. i don't know. as i write this, i am now in france, enjoying the riviera's setting sun on my mum's terrace, with my thirteen-year-old four-legged baby sleeping underneath the table. there are palm trees and bougainvilleas. she's just woken up to bark at the airbnb neighbours next door.

how am i? exhausted. like, bone-deep. i don't know how to explain. the exhaustion of having published 82,000 words in two months. of having written 403,000 words in four years. of having made a thing. i made a thing. i could sleep for ten years, i feel, but i'm also wired. from the excitement and the adrenaline. i woke up every hour last night. i woke up at four o'clock this morning and couldn't get back to sleep. i now have two weeks of holidays and beach days to hopefully let my brain recuperate.

i am... terribly unfit lol. i'm the heaviest i've ever been, but it's not really about that, it's about the fact that i've been eating absolute shite for the past four/five months (with the above-mentioned exhaustion, i couldn't be bothered to cook), and honestly don't feel i could walk 10,000 steps without being out of breath. let me tell you that spending your days working in front of a laptop for your big girl job and all your evenings and weekends writing makes your life very sedentary. but that is easily fixable. my mum's building has a pool, so we'll be going every day and doing laps and going for walks and exploring the world again and recharging, and hopefully we'll feel better in a few weeks.

i am also... in absolute disbelief. i think it will take a while to truly sink in. i am incredibly proud of myself, proud of this story. proud of having told it. proud of not giving up on it. i came so close, this time last year. but i hung on. i owed it to myself. and, frankly, i owed it to lily, to tell her story. how lovely that i can finally say that without spoiling. she deserved someone else to hear.

i am... immensely honoured. beyond belief. i think for a long time, i blocked out and minimised the kind comments and the things people would say about how much this story meant to them, not out of rudeness but more to preserve myself from the pressure. it can be difficult - petrifying - to write a story that means a lot to people. but now, i have seventy-two comments (and counting) in my inbox and i am slowly realising that maybe, people weren't just being nice when they said these things. maybe it was true. and that means more to me than words could ever express.

i am... grieving. a little bit. i think, reading all of your messages and comments, a lot of you seem to feel that too. a bittersweetness of a four-year adventure ending. i think this emotion is already a bit on its way out for me, because i've been grieving castles for a while now, and have slowly come to terms with it ending. but, still. i would be remiss if i did not mention that the immense sense of pride and satisfaction and fulfilment that i feel ending this project, also didn't come with a bit of grief.

and, finally, i am very much looking forward to the future. i am excited for a lot of travel plans i have set up in the autumn. i am excited for my birthday in six days. i am excited for what the future will bring in terms of the stories i will inevitably tell again. fanfic or original.

and, i am immensely grateful to all of you. so thank you ❤️

[locksnek]

Fanfiction Author Interview Game

Thank you @ladystormcrow for the tag! ^_^ (Not going to start a reblog chain due to space, so her interview is here.

________________

How many works do you have on AO3? Currently, 9. I had slightly more on my prior iteration of AO3, before the Deletion Incident of 2022.

What's your total AO3 word count? 101,203

Your top 5 stories by kudos/likes: Ngl I don't want to look at this right now. Dark Crystal fandom is really quiet now, and I try not to keep falling into the trap of lamenting my deletion of my prior AO3 from back when there was more engagement.

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? Yes, because I like comments and I like talking about my blorbos.

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending? Of the completed stuff on AO3, Kind Other. UrLii is having an angsty day. That said, I think this basically vent fic I wrote in SIlmarillion fandom 8 years ago is probably the angstiest published fic I've done overall: Our Love is Great

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending? Happy is in the eye of the beholder, but possibly Food Fight [or Out of Hand, discussed further below]. It's a grotesque story but I can safely say skekNa and skekUng are both happy by the end of it. It inaugurates what will be their lifetime together terrorizing the creatures of Thra.

Do you write crossovers? I haven't per se, closest I've come was a Silm fic where I made a scenario analogous to the short story "The Renegade" by Camus. I've got a couple crossover ideas for fandoms I've never written in, but I've already been carrying them around for quite a few years, so who knows.

Have you ever received hate on a fic? No, just a couple odd comments that could mean anything, which I read as funny.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Not terribly explicit smut. Even when I don't fade to black, I tend to imply a lot of things rather than spell them out. I'm more likely to get more descriptive the more disgusting the situation is.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not per se. Just not been acknowledged for a HC someone took almost blow-by-blow from my Gragoh longfic and then kind of disavowed in their comments section. Maybe it's just me, but if one dislikes someone enough to not credit them where credit is due, I don't quite even understand the desire to use that person's ideas rather than coming up with one's own.

Have you ever had a fic translated? Not as such.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? Not yet. *pleading face emoji*

What's your all-time favorite ship? Lowkey obsessed with UngNaLi, or any twosome permutations thereof. I also love Jaime/Brienne and Jaime/Ilyn Payne from ASoIAF.

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will? The Birds of the Temple Garden, a Tolkien fic set on Numenor that used a derelict garden as a plot device. This is probably the Silm fic of mine that would still most resonate with me, and sometimes I think my present self would still be capable of finishing it in something close to its original spirit, but I've not clapped eyes on it in 8 years.

What are your writing strengths? Dialogue, incessant metaphors, imagery.

What are your writing weaknesses? I can get too introspected and up my own ass with convoluted and repetitive narratives if I stay too long in a character's brain. This is part of the reason I enjoy writing ensemble POVs, as they keep my attention distributed and I don't hyperfocus on the content of one dumbass's head.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? I don't have many thoughts on it, other than please provide a translation, whether through a note or within the work itself.

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to? ASoIAF*, Lovecraftian, Ozverse, possibly Labyrinth or Neverending Story. *Not strictly true! I do have all of one paragraph of something ASoIAF written.

What's your favorite fic you've written? Out of Hand. It was freeing to write because Ung and Na are such pieces of shit but they genuinely love each other very much, and since they're Skeksis I didn't feel like I as the narrator really needed to justify or reconcile that. The tags alone shocked a ragebait youtuber into referring to me as "the bastard who wrote the porn." It firmly established my OTP. It also made me write a bit about their urRu counterparts, whom I also love and would like to write more about. Nothing but good things have come out of this. _____________ Tags! I think everyone I'm tagging writes fic, ignore if not. @scientistservant @heartbreakterrorbird @pomgore @merelyafigment @drapopia

[incorrectcoldflashblog]

Answer the Questions and Tag 5 Fanfic Authors

Thank you so much to @kitkatt0430 for tagging me <3

1. How did you get into writing fanfiction?

Well, I got back into Coldflash in a big way a couple years ago, and kind of got frustrated not really seeing anything new in the tag, lol. Desperation is usually my biggest motivator to do anything. If I had unlimited new Coldflash fics coming out, I probably would never have written my own tbh.

2. How many fandoms have you written in?

Just the one. I used to do translations for a different fandom, though, so maybe two depending on if translating counts.

3. How many years have you been writing fanfiction?

My own? Only a year and a half. Translating, maybe roughly ten years.

4. Do you read or write more fanfiction?

I probably write more now, but you wouldn’t know it because I’m such a slow writer!

5. What is one way you’ve improved as a writer?

Oh, I feel like my English has definitely gotten better since I started writing regularly. I always felt obligated to put a little disclaimer at the bottom, like please be nice to me, this isn’t my first language, lol. I feel a little bit more confident about it now (although I still obsessively google every sentence and word).

6. What’s the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

I mean, thanks to Chapter 4 of What Happens in Vegas I know now way more than I ever needed to know about tornado sirens, considering we don’t have them in my country, lol. I also ended up doing extensive (and totally pointless) research about the ancient Sumerian city-state of Ur (located in the South of what is now modern-day Iraq), which is where Len/Cold was supposed to be from in my AU where he was a genie. For those who are unaware, Ur fell in about 2000 BC and had a very famous poem written about it. Here is the cheery opening of 11 stanzas of misery:

For the gods have abandoned us

like migrating birds they have gone

Ur is destroyed, bitter is its lament

The country's blood now fills its holes like hot bronze in a mould

Bodies dissolve like fat in the sun. Our temple is destroyed

Smoke lies on our city like a shroud.

blood flows as the river does

the lamenting of men and women

sadness abounds

Ur is no more

7. What’s your favorite type of comment to receive on your work?

I always appreciate when people point out the parts they liked. But honestly I’m happy for people to comment at all, especially on older fics :)

8. What’s the most fringe trope/topic you write about?

I don’t know that anything I’ve written can be considered fringe, lol. I do have a Lisa/Iris WIP, which I assume would be more of a rarepair, but I only have one scene written for it so who knows if I’ll ever finish it. I guess the Genie AU was kind of strange.

9. What is the hardest type of story for you to write?

Longfics ;-; God, I’ve gained so much respect for people who can do that consistently for 60+ chapters, or over multiple fics in a series. My longfic isn’t even that long, comparatively, and I still feel like I will never get it done.

10. What is the easiest type?

One-shots, my beloved.

11. Where do you do your writing? What platform? When?

On my laptop. I just use Word and I prefer to write in the morning, which isn’t super ideal because it only leaves me the weekend to really get into it.

12. What is something you’ve been too nervous/intimidated to write, but would love to write one day?

I’m too nervous to start more longfics at the moment because I feel like two is my absolute limit but I’d love to be able to write both the TATBILB-inspired fic I had in mind and the Future Fic that I sometimes play around with. I’d have to finish at least one of my longer projects first, or maybe try to get the whole thing written before posting it but I’m usually too impatient to do that!

13. What made you choose your username?

My username is captainicecube and I picked it because it’s roughly how Captain Cold was translated in the French dub. They translated it as Captain Glaçons (Captain Icecubes), which always makes me laugh whenever I think about it because it’s so stupid XD

Tagging @crestfallercanyon @joanthangroff @tiger-in-the-flightdeck @softboydepot and @moriavis

[pmpmyread]

2024 in Two Half Steps: Thoughts from a new writer on Tumblr

An end-of-year reflection on the pmpmyread x Tumblr experiment thus far, in the form of some yapping absolutely no one asked for, "for posterity".

While the creation of this Tumblr blog predates June 29, when I published my first JJK fic, I consider today to more or less mark six months since I joined the platform in earnest, as a writer.

A few days after sharing that first fic, once the high began tapering off, I vowed to make the conscious effort to refuse to play the engagement numbers game, judging it to be too slippery of a slope for the little it would yield, particularly for someone who is prone to slipping into the mindset of a mentally exhausting day job ruled by OKRs and KPIs as a measure of success.

"Watch number go up" would certainly not be the energy I'd bring to this endeavor.

Having said that, I did quietly hit a few neat milestones over the last few weeks, both on here and on AO3, and these little quantifications of how people received some of my writing over the last six months, modest as they may be, are only incredibly encouraging to me. Even after the recent cleanup I conducted on my followers list for what appeared to be bots/ageless blogs, I was surprised by the number of people I was left with on my tiny island of the internet.

If you follow me, if you’ve ever commented on, interacted with, or even just took the time to read something I wrote, thank you! I appreciate it more than words could ever convey.

Now, here’s a numbers game I'm willing to play, as someone who was struggling to get anything down on paper this time last year:

25-30 is the number of original/non-reblogged posts I shared this year. I didn’t know how to tag when I first started and I don’t really have it in me to hunt them lol. They were likely yap anyway. 17 of those were fanfics, 3 were meta posts/character analysis 11 Nanami fics (rookie numbers tbh lol), 2 Gojo fics, 2 Geto fics, 1 Nobara-centric story, and 1 Yuji and Sukuna-centric thing 5 gifted written works total, 3 of which I haven’t shared here. The presence of this metric is mind-blowing in and of itself because there was a time in a not so distant past when I would not dream of being confident enough to gift anything I wrote to someone. 6 Destiny fics, 5 of which were re-shares and 1 that I actually wrote this year. This is also an achievement on its own considering the terrible writer’s block and general dissatisfaction I’ve had with this game this year. I’m grateful for this small but mighty fandom and its talented artists that keeping it alive, in spite of everything. $17.15 is the yearly hosting fee for the OC writing blog I registered a couple of years ago. Now that I’ve finally found my spark to write OC again, thanks largely to my fanfic endeavors, I can finally justify its expense LMFAO.

If you’re a writer or really just any kind of creator on here, I encourage you to take a short trip down the soon-to-be memory lane that is the year 2024 and take stock of what you’ve created this year. Zooming out to view your broader personal progress and accomplishments is crucial for maintaining motivation, reminding yourself of the “why” and of the passion behind your efforts. We truly only do this for the love of the game!

If you’re a reader and you’ve made it this far (here’s a medal lol), thanks again for being here, I hope this can serve as a small glimpse into the journey behind this account. I admittedly run this blog a bit like my social life lol; long periods consisting largely of keeping to myself, punctuated by short bursts of high social energy. That said, I’d definitely like to get to know you more in 2025!

Finally, if you’re someone who sits in between these two categories, here’s some food for thought: In the initial six months of 2024, I was only silently reading the wonderful works others bravely posted on here, hovering in that awkward area between a desire to share my writing again and an aversion to being perceived.

It was exactly halfway through the year that I took a chance to post something for the first time, and though I was nervous in the moment, it was the most freeing thing. Mainly because I did it and I didn’t die lol.

If you feel that nagging from an idea you have, and that flame of creativity, if you’ve been eyeing that half-completed outline, or even just have some scenes replaying like a movie in your mind, I hope you know that you already are a creator.

At the risk of sounding corny, I’d invite you to consider this upcoming new year to be a blank page and try putting pen to paper for some of your ideas, and see where it goes. If you’re so inclined, create a post, tag it and send it off to the world, whether here on Tumblr or elsewhere. It may feel daunting or even a bit scary, but I promise you’ll feel accomplished and relieved to have finally tried it. And when you do it once, it’s always easier to do it again.

Just please do remember to do this for yourself and for your enjoyment first and foremost, to find your own voice and style and to resist the urge to compare your journey to others’. The best way to dismantle the thief of joy is to prevent it from sneaking onto the premises in the first place. The rest will follow. 🩵

As for 2025, I do have some aspirations for this blog, though I refuse to label them as resolutions LOL. I want to explore some more ideas for JJK and D2, I want to incorporate my underrepresented identities into my stories, I want to start cross-posting my original content over on another dedicated Tumblr page, I want, I want, I want...

I don’t know how much I’ll realistically get to, because life is life and I am also looking to make some rather big moves next year. Tumblr is only a small piece of my writing journey which itself is only a small part of my busy day to day, but all in all, I am so pleased to have re-engaged with this hobby on this platform.

For all of its flaws, Tumblr has a distinct flavor in its interactive element that I have yet to see elsewhere, it’s connected me with wonderful people, provided a much-needed creative outlet, exposed me to wonderful works, and helped to keep me grounded during what was an otherwise pretty hectic year.

Thanks for reading, and I wish you a safe, healthy and very happy New Year!

(I listened to the Comic Bakery Title song while writing this. My future self will get the reference hashtag posterity)