#and this switch hit me and i was like hell yes brother

[strangerexee]

ᴛᴏʟᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ɪ ʟɪᴋᴇ ɢᴇɴᴛʟᴇ ɢɪᴀɴᴛꜱ | ᴇʟɪᴀᴊʜ "ꜱᴍᴏᴋᴇ" ᴍᴏᴏʀᴇ

𝙼𝙾𝙳𝙴𝚁𝙽!𝙶𝙰𝙽𝙶!𝙰𝚄

pairings: Elijah "smoke" Moore x black!fem!reader

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢: 𝚅𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚖 | 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚣𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝 | 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 | 𝚐𝚊𝚗𝚐/𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚜 | 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎/𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛 | 𝚝𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚌 𝚍𝚢𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚌𝚜 | 𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 (𝚔𝚒𝚍𝚗𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚜), 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 | 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚝-𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚍, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚕 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚢 | 𝚃𝚆𝙸𝙽 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝙵𝚄𝚂𝙸𝙾𝙽 | 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗.

You weren’t even supposed to be out that night.

Whole week had been trash — your boss on your ass, car acting stupid, apartment loud as hell with neighbors fighting through the walls.

You needed a break.

So when your girls hit you up — “Bitch, we outside tonight, put some heels on” — you said yes.

You didn’t even think twice.

Short dress. Glossy lips. The kind of heels that said you might make a bad decision if the right man breathed on your neck.

The club was packed — lights flashing, bass thumping deep in your chest — and you felt yourself finally breathe when you got a drink in your hand and a song you loved came on.

You were dancing, laughing, living your little free life — when you felt it.

Eyes.

Heavy.

Watching.

You turned your head — slow — and caught them across the room.

Two of them.

Tall. Built like trouble. Dark eyes gleaming under the lights like wolves in the woods.

And fine?

God help you.

One leaned back against the wall — arms folded, chewing on a toothpick — looking at you like he already knew what you tasted like.

The other was talking to some girl, but his eyes? Still on you.

You swallowed — heart hammering.

Your friends screamed when the song switched — dragging you further onto the dancefloor — but you kept glancing back.

Who the hell was that? You couldn't really tell.

Fast-forward twenty minutes — you outside cooling off, drink in your hand, scrolling on your phone.

And he stepped to you.

The one from inside.

Black jeans. Black hoodie. Gold chain swinging. Those heavy-lidded eyes eating you alive.

“What’s your name, lil’ mama?” he said, voice low and slow.

You squinted up at him — heart pounding — but your mouth moved faster than your brain.

He was tall in that way that made you straighten your spine, hoodie hanging loose on that broad-ass frame like it was clinging for dear life. Gold glinted at his neck, catching the low streetlights, and the way his eyes moved—

Slow. Unhurried. Heavy-lidded like sin itself.

He wasn’t blinking. Wasn’t smiling either. He was watching.

And it was doing something to you that your little glossed-up, club-ready self hadn’t prepared for.

You scoffed lightly, not letting your eyes linger too long on his mouth, or his hands—veined, tatted, big enough to make your thighs press a little closer.

“Who, me?” You sipped your drink. “I don’t know you like that, sir.”

That “sir” was sweet. Smart. Maybe a little sharp.

And it made his jaw tick.

He dragged his tongue across his teeth, slowly, like he liked the way you tasted already.

“You gon’ know me,” he said. “Sooner or later.”

Lord.

He didn’t say it loud. Didn’t say it with a smile.

Just…stated it. Like gravity. Like fact.

You swallowed hard and tried not to show how hot your neck was getting.

He took a step closer.

Not enough to scare you. Just enough for the space between you to feel smaller. Warmer.

You leaned back against the wall casually, trying to play it cute—but your pulse was thudding. Your friends were still inside, probably throwing ass to the beat, and you were out here flirting with a man who could’ve been the devil’s body double.

“What’s your name?” you asked, voice smooth.

He smirked—but barely.

“Smoke.”

“That your real name?”

“Nah. But it’s the one you need to remember.”

You hummed, glancing down at your phone. Trying not to melt.

You had heard the name before. People whispered about him.

And his brother, Stack.

The Moore twins.

Trouble in two different fonts.

But Smoke? Smoke was the one they said moved different. Quieter. Crueler.

The one you didn’t want mad.

He didn’t act out.

He handled shit.

And here he was. In your face. Asking your name like it wasn’t probably already in his notes app under “sweet lil’ thing in that pretty dress.”

“You dangerous?” you asked him, tilting your head.

“What you think?” he said, voice low. “I look dangerous to you?”

He didn’t wait for an answer.

Didn’t need one.

Because the way your lashes dipped told him plenty. The way you bit the inside of your cheek, looked away real quick like you weren’t all hot in the chest…

Yeah. He knew what time it was.

But still—you had the final move. And you weren’t about to let him play you into giving it all up like a dumb little groupie.

So instead—you smiled.

Real pretty.

You put your hand out slow, took his phone when he offered it, and dropped your number in.

Just your first name. Nothing more.

He looked down at it like it was gold.

And when you handed it back—you leaned in. Light. Soft.

Kissed his cheek.

“That’s all you getting tonight, smoke.”

And then you turned—heels clicking, dress swaying—walking right back into the club like you hadn’t just left the king of the damn city standing there with your number in his hand and a smirk blooming slow on his face.

He didn’t even chase you.

Just watched.

You woke up in your bed with one heel still on and glitter in your eyelashes.

Head pounding.

Mouth dry.

Phone buzzing.

“Ughhh…”

You rolled over and squinted at the screen.

Smoke (Mobile) 9:07 AM.

Hell no.

You tossed the phone face down and curled back under the blanket. Mind still foggy with club lights and too many tequila shots, feet sore from dancing in heels you should’ve thrown out two summers ago.

The night felt like a dream.

A blur.

Except him.

You remembered him crystal clear.

That voice. That smirk. That goddamn cheek kiss you gave him like some sweet lil’ Southern belle.

You groaned into your pillow.

Why did you do that?

Phone buzzed again.

Smoke (Mobile) 9:12 AM.

Back-to-back?

You side-eyed the screen, biting your lip.

And then—

Third call.

Smoke (Mobile) Incoming Call…

You stared.

Then finally hit ignore.

“Sir, it’s not even 10am,” you muttered, dragging yourself upright.

You made it to the kitchen, sipping orange juice straight from the bottle like a menace, still in last night’s dress with one strap slipping off your shoulder.

You rubbed your temples, then your phone dinged.

Unknown Address shared a location with you.

Your stomach flipped.

No name. No message.

Just a red pin hovering over your damn building.

You froze.

Then another message dropped.

“Come open the door”

No punctuation.

No emojis.

Just that.

Your eyes snapped to the door.

Was he joking?

You tiptoed over, heartbeat in your damn mouth. Peeked through the peephole.

And there he was.

Black hoodie. Hood up. Leaning against the wall like he owned the entire floor. One hand in his pocket. Other hand holding his phone. Head down.

Smoke at your damn front door like he’d lived there his whole life.

You didn’t even think.

Just unlocked it.

He looked up when it clicked open — and that slow, heavy gaze rolled over you like smoke under a door.

“Damn,” he muttered, eyes dipping down your body. “You always look like this in the morning?”

You pulled the door open wider and stepped aside, blinking up at him.

“How the hell you know where I stay?”

He stepped in without answering, brushing your shoulder — his presence thick — that quiet heat pouring off him again.

He looked around slow. Clocked your messy counter, the couch, the half-dead plant in the corner.

“You live alone?”

“Yes, sir,” you said, arms crossed. “You still ain’t answer—”

“I will get to that,” he said, low. “I asked a question.”

You stared at him, mouth open.

He just smirked.

“Relax,” he said. “Ain’t like I kicked the door in. You let me in.”

Damn.

You did let him in.

Something about the way he stood — tall, calm, like a storm in a hoodie — made your mouth dry.

You cleared your throat.

“I need a shower.”

“Go ahead,” he said, tossing himself onto your couch like it belonged to him. “I’ll be here.”

You blinked.

He pulled his hood down, leaned back, spread his legs — just making space. His gold chain caught the light. His eyes flicked to you.

“Go on, baby. I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

You stood there like a deer in headlights, every nerve buzzing.

You turned and headed to the bathroom — lowkey speed-walking — and locked the door behind you.

Your back hit the wood. Chest rising and falling.

Why was this man in your house?

More importantly—

Why did it feel good?

You stripped, hot all over, and stepped into the shower.

Let the water run over you while your mind raced.

He was sitting on your couch.

Comfortable.

Knowing damn well you were naked in the next room.

And your heart was pounding like you liked it.

You stepped out, dripping, towel wrapped around you, and cracked the door open to peek.

He was still there. Phone in hand. One knee bouncing slow.

“You good?” he called out, not even turning around.

“Yeah…”

You closed the door fast and leaned against the sink.

He didn’t knock.

Didn’t ask to come in.

Just showed up.

Showed up and sat there like he belonged.

And maybe that was the scariest part.

Because some twisted, hungover, half-dressed part of you?

Kinda wanted him to.

Anyway —

You weren’t about to be that girl. Walking out in a towel like you ain’t have an ounce of sense. He was fine, yeah. Dangerous, yes. Built like everything you knew you should run from…

But still.

You had dignity.

Even if you did keep looking at yourself in the mirror—checking your face, adjusting your curls, heart thudding like you had something to prove.

You took your time. Went out the bathroom and into your bedroom.

Lotioned slow. Fresh pair of panties. Cotton shorts. Cropped tank top, soft and snug, your favorite one that always sat just right.

Simple. Cute. Still had a little “you can leave if you want, I ain’t pressed” to it.

Even though you were very much pressed.

You stared at the door for a second.

Took a breath.

Then turned the knob and stepped out.

The scent of your vanilla body cream followed you like a cloud as you moved through the hallway—each barefoot step slow, hesitant, but steady.

And there he was.

Smoke.

Exactly where you left him.

Leaning back into your couch like it was a throne. Legs spread. One arm tossed over the backrest. Phone gone now—he was looking at you.

Eyes dragging from your face, to your neck, to your waist, to your thighs.

Slow.

Like he was learning you.

“You clean?” he said, voice low, warm.

You nodded once.

“You still here?”

He smirked.

Didn’t move.

Didn’t blink.

“You mad about that?”

“I ain’t say that.”

He nodded, eyes never leaving yours.

“But you thought about it.”

You shrugged, stepping into the kitchen to pour a glass of water—partly to distract yourself, partly to avoid looking back at him.

He watched you move, the way your shorts hugged your curves, the way your fingers curled around the glass.

“You let all strangers up in your spot like this?”

“You a stranger?” you asked, turning to lean against the counter.

His lips curved.

“Not after last night.”

You swallowed and sipped slow, heart tight in your chest.

"I kissed your cheek — you're acting like we fucked."

He wasn’t loud.

He wasn’t boastful.

But something about the way he said it — like you were already his — made your skin hum.

“So,” you said, setting the glass down. “You just…decided to pull up? No warning?”

“You ain’t answer the phone,” he said simply. “You gave me your number, yeah? Thought that meant something.”

You squinted.

“So you tracked me down?”

“Didn’t have to,” he said. “You know how many people know you? Or watch you? You too pretty to be out here thinking nobody’s paying attention.”

That made your breath catch.

And he saw it.

He leaned forward a little, elbows on his knees, voice dropping deeper.

“Don’t matter how late you leave. Don’t matter what you post or what you don’t. Eyes on you. Always. I’m just the first one to say something about it.”

You didn’t know if you were flattered or terrified.

Maybe both.

But you crossed your arms, trying to act cool.

“You always this intense?”

“Only when I want something.”

That shut you up.

Because that gaze? That posture?

He didn’t look like he wanted your number anymore.

He wanted you.

And not in some quick, messy way.

No.

He wanted to pull you. Keep you. Figure out how your day started and ended. Learn what made you tick. Put his name in your phone and in your mouth, just to hear how it sounded.

He wanted to sit on your couch with his hood off and his legs wide and look at you like you were already home.

And it was scaring you.

Just a little.

“You hungry?” you asked finally, voice smaller than you meant.

He leaned back, eyes raking over you again.

“I’m good. Unless you cooking.”

“You ain’t getting all that today, sir,” you said, smiled a little. “I’m still hungover.”

“I could fix that.”

You gave him a look.

He just chuckled — low and short — like he already knew he’d wear you down eventually.

And maybe he was right.

Because when you sat down across from him, arms still crossed, biting the inside of your cheek —

You didn’t tell him to leave.

But the quiet stretched out thick between you.

Not awkward — but heavy. Heavy like smoke after a fire. The kind of silence that made your skin itch ‘cause you felt like you were supposed to be doing something, saying something — but he was doing just fine saying nothing.

His eyes moved slow when he looked at you.

Not greedy, but precise.

Like he was trying to clock your tells. Your tics. The way you blinked when you got nervous. The little tongue poke when you were being smart.

Made you wanna fidget.

But you didn’t.

You sat on that couch, one leg crossed over the other, arms still tucked under your chest like a shield, trying not to let your eyes drop to the gold chain hanging loose around his neck.

That chain was disrespectful.

“So what you do?” you asked finally. “For work. For money. Or is that a rude question?”

Smoke snorted low — amused.

“What I do,” he said, dragging the word out, “ain’t always something you ask in daylight. Especially not when you still smell like vanilla body oil and got your knees showin’.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Sir—”

“But since you asked,” he cut in, “I got a few things. People call. I handle it.”

“So vague.”

“You want details, or you want the truth?”

“Both.”

He smiled—slow, lazy, like it tasted good in his mouth.

“Truth is, I move weight. Truth is, I don’t clock in nowhere. Truth is…” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees again, head tilting just slightly. “I don’t let nobody tell me what to do. Been that way since I was fourteen.”

You blinked.

He didn’t sound like he was bragging. No hype, no theatrics. Just matter of fact. Like he knew what he was and wasn’t about to apologize for it.

“So you are perilous.”

“I’m useful.”

“That what they call it now?”

“Only when I’m being nice,” he said, eyes dipping low as he glanced over your body again, “which I usually ain’t.”

You felt your breath catch. Again.

God, this man was good.

“I feel like I should tell you I don’t get down with all that,” you said, voice light, deflecting. “I like peace. Quiet. I like my little paycheck and my little business and my little sanity.”

“And yet,” he said, “you still gave me your number.”

Damn.

He had you there.

You leaned back, lips pursed.

“You’re real sure of yourself.”

“Nah,” he said. “I’m just sure about you.”

You looked away.

Because what the hell do you say to that?

No man ever told you that before—not like that. Not like he meant it.

Not like he already decided that the two of you were something, and your mouth just hadn’t caught up yet.

“You ever get tired?” you asked. “Of acting like nothing scares you?”

“You ever get tired of pretending you don’t like when I act like that?”

You snorted, surprised.

“You good at reading people?”

“I’m good at reading you.”

That stopped you. Again.

You felt your arms uncross before you even realized you were doing it.

Like some part of you was already surrendering.

Your voice was softer when you said, “Why me?”

Smoke let that question sit.

Then —

“’Cause you smart. Real smart. But messy with it. Like you trying to keep it together and falling apart at the same time.”

You blinked.

Hard.

“And you pretty,” he added. “But you don’t lead with it. You act like it ain’t your weapon. That’s cute. Dangerous too.”

Your throat got tight.

“And I like the way you talk. Mouth slick. You got fight in you. But your eyes? They stay looking for something. You tired, but not done yet.”

His voice dropped.

“I like that.”

You weren’t sure what emotion was creeping up your chest, but it was hot. Heavy. A little scared, a little intrigued. A lot turned on.

You leaned your head back on the couch.

“You always do this?” you asked. “Pull girls in with that therapy voice and street prophet energy?”

“Nah,” he said. “You special. I don’t do repeat games.”

You swallowed again.

"Right, right..."

Felt your stomach knot.

“You staying long?” you asked.

“Long as you let me.”

You looked at him.

He was still sitting back like he owned the room. But now his hand was resting on his thigh, slow-tapping, like he was thinking about moving.

Like he wanted to.

“Don't you got a brother?” you asked randomly, needing to ground yourself.

He nodded.

“Twin.”

You tilted your head.

“Fraternal or Identical?”

“Identical.”

“So there's two of you running around town?”

Smoke smirked.

“Yeah. But he ain’t me.”

You smiled — real slow.

“Noted.”

He tilted his head.

“Why? You planning to test it?”

“I don’t repeat games either.”

That made him grin — wide this time.

“Told you,” he said. “You real slick. Keep playing like that and you gon’ have a hard time getting rid of me.”

“Who said I wanted to?”

You didn’t even mean to say that out loud.

But the way his eyes lit up? Whew.

“Aight then,” he said, voice silk. “Now we getting somewhere.”

You rolled your eyes, checking the time without meaning to.

He’d been on your couch longer than some of your exes lasted in your bed. Legs spread like he paid rent here. Voice low and lazy like he had nowhere else to be.

So you said it.

“You don’t got shit else to do today?”

Smoke turned to you with that half-smirk, half-squint thing he kept doing. Like every word out your mouth amused him more than the last.

“I mean, I’m flattered,” you added, kicking your bare heel against the floor. “But I know y’all street boys don’t just sit still like this. Ain’t you got corners to stand on or money to count or something?”

He snorted.

“You think that’s all I do?”

“Ain’t say that,” you shrugged. “But I know you didn’t wake up and decide to play house on my couch. I’m not that fine.”

“You are that fine,” he said easily. “I just got better taste than time.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Boy, whatever.”

But he didn’t respond.

His phone buzzed.

Once. Then again.

You clocked the quick glance he gave it. The screen lit up bright across his thigh. He tapped it, turned it face-down, didn’t move.

“What’s that?” you asked, leaning a little.

“Nothing.”

“Your girl?”

That made him grin. Head tipping back a little as he stared at the ceiling like he couldn’t believe you asked that.

“You think I’d sit this long in your house if I had somebody else blowing up my shit?”

“I don’t know. I’ve seen men do worse for less.”

“Ain’t my girl,” he said, straight-faced now. “If I had one, I’d have said it.”

You gave him a long look.

Didn’t say anything else.

But then the phone rang.

Loud. Sudden. The name flashed up — too quick for you to catch it — but his mood shifted the moment he saw it.

Just a flick of something. That calm-mask tightening.

“Yo,” he answered, standing up.

His tone dropped. Business.

He turned away, walked toward your door.

You stayed on the couch.

Didn’t ask.

You weren’t stupid. You didn’t need the details. Man like him? Phone call like that? It wasn’t brunch plans.

“Aight,” he said into the phone. “I’m on my way.”

He hung up.

Turned around.

And there it was — the shift back.

That calm he wore like armor.

You didn’t bother asking what it was. You already knew better.

Instead, you pulled your phone into your hand and scrolled. Just enough to let him know you weren’t pressed.

He watched you for a second. Then:

“Lemme get a kiss.”

You scoffed — head jerking up.

“You for real?”

“Deadass.”

“You wasn’t even here ten minutes and now you tryna act like this our place. Boy, please—”

“C’mon, baby,” he said, slow and syrupy. “You not gon’ do me like that.”

And the worst part?

You folded.

Not fast. Not right away.

But slow, like butter melting on hot bread.

You rolled your eyes — hard enough to give attitude — and stood.

“You so needy,” you muttered.

“You like that.”

You walked over.

He was already smirking.

And when you got close enough for him to reach — you knew.

You knew what he was gon’ do.

Still leaned in.

Still let him pull you in soft. One hand to your lower back, the other brushing your jaw.

His lips found yours like he’d kissed you before.

Like he’d been thinking about it since the second he saw you.

The kiss was slow — firm. Not sloppy, not rushed.

Just pressure. Warmth. Intention.

And right when you started to lean in deeper—

Boom.

Not one, but both his hands slid down to your ass.

Gripped.

Full palms, full squeeze.

You pulled back just enough to give him a look.

“Really?”

“You surprised?”

You tried to step back.

He didn’t let you.

Just stood there with that fucking smirk, hands still in place like they had a right to be there.

“You gon’ let go?”

“You gon’ ask me nice?”

“Smoke.”

“Aight, aight.” He finally eased up. “Go on then. I’ll call you.”

“Please don't.”

He leaned in one more time — kissed the corner of your mouth.

Then he was gone.

Door clicked shut behind him.

And your heart?

Still tapping a wild rhythm in your chest.

What the hell was that?

And why the hell did it feel like the beginning of something you wasn’t ready for?

[jeanmoreaue]

bitch??? not the same switch in language meaning similar things for both Neil and Jean

[poppadom0912]

Hi, Would you make a Halstead!sister where she is a teen and have her very first boyfriend and when she decides to break up with him he hits her. She wants to hide it from her brothers but they found out anyway

Warnings: Abuse and violence, swearing, canon-typical injuries.

A/N: Okay, this fic will be the last one for a while and I mean it this time. Writing this was so random but I got sudden inspo when I found this half written soooo please do enjoy!!

You swear that this wasn't supposed to get as bad as it did.

You were still in high school and it might've been your first boyfriend and it definitely took too many tries to convince your brothers to give you permission to date but somehow, you got it in the end.

Several times, both Jay and Will but mainly Jay, warned you of abusive, manipulative and toxic partners which you knew existed but never thought you would date someone as such.

Joey was nice at first. After inviting him over for dinner a few times, your brothers began to be more lenient towards him though they would never admit it aloud.

Yes, they were still quite wary considering you were both still young and in school but over the course of a few months, you were finally allowed to go on a date alone without them acting as chaperones.

Then, it came to your break up.

During school, you and your best friend found Joey and another girl in your year locking lips against her locker without any shame at all. It was there and then you decided that evening you were going to break it off with him.

The two of you met up in the school car park where he would usually drive you home but unbeknownst to him, you had different plans for that today.

You hated how he was acting so nonchalant, the biggest smile on his face when he noticed you walking up to his car. You felt sick, desperately wanting to smack that smirk off his face.

"Y/N! Baby, I missed you at lunch. Where-" Joey started, opening his arms to embrace you but was cut off.

"Don't call me baby." You said sharply, your tone showing you were being completely serious. "We're done Joey."

Joey blinked, tilting his head to the side in confusion before laughing. "Oh Y/N, you're hilarious! Come on, we're going to my house-"

Once again, you cut him off, harshly shoving his hand off your elbow. "No, I'm being serious Joey. We're breaking up."

His face immediately fell at your words. All of a sudden, with the flip of a switch, he changed completely. It was so fast that it started scaring you.

Before allowing him to get a word in, you turned around so you could walk away and go home on your own but you were held back. A hand was suddenly tightly gripping your wrist, pulling you back towards Joey.

"What the hell!?" You exclaimed, trying to rip your hand out of his but he wouldn't budge.

"Joey, you're hurting me. Let go." You said, trying to reason with him but nothing was working.

You tried to calm him down, Jay's voice in the back of your mind explaining step by step what to do in cases like this but you found yourself frozen, unable to defend yourself alike to how you were taught.

It was all so sudden. One moment you were angrily staring up at Joey and the next you were looking to your left, your right cheek burning as it tingled with numbness.

Both of you were shocked at his actions. Using his shock to your advantage, you pulled your wrist out of his hand, ignoring the burning sensation you felt and ran.

*****

Unfortunately for you, it was a friday night and that meant both your older brothers were at home. Typically, on the weekends, you swapped and went to Will's before going back to Jay's for the weekdays. So that meant Will was at Jay's apartment to pick you up.

You were still breathing heavily as you entered the house, unintentionally slamming the front door shut as you came to your senses.

You were home. You were safe.

"Y/N, are you okay?" Jay shouted from the living room. He heard the door slam and was confused since he knew he specifically told you to never slam doors.

"Uh- yeah." You hesitated, licking your lips as you answered. "I'm, I'm good."

"You're red and sweaty- did you run all the way here?" Jay asked after a moment of studying you, taking note of your red cheeks and sweat collecting forehead.

"Yeah I did, I'm bursting for the toilet." You quickly thought of an excuse, lying about why you ran home.

Before he could reply, you dashed past him towards the bathroom to keep up with said lie.

"Hey Y/N-Oh..." Will words were lost as he watched you disappear as quick as he saw you.

"What's up with her?" Will asked, looking confusingly at Jay and down the hall where you disappeared.

"I'm not sure."

****

Joey went back to disturbing you as soon as monday came. The weekend seemingly getting on his nerves because he was buzzing monday morning to the point that you turned back around whenever you saw him.

But you could only run so far from him because at the end of the day as you waited for your best friend, he was grabbing you way too hard.

This process only repeated itself for the next two weeks, becoming almost routine where you only missed him for two days overall.

Three weeks since he first laid hands on you, you were now covered in an amalgamation of redness, bruises and finger-shaped marks.

Today though, today something changed.

It was friday, nearly a month since you broke up with Joey and you were walking to Med. Will was supposed to pick you up but his latest patient was causing problems and asked for you to walk to the hospital only ten minutes away.

So you and one of your friends who lived near that area walked together, departing as you reached the ED doors and she walked home.

As you waved her off, your smile bright and hurting still from how much both of you were laughing, you weren't paying too much attention to your surroundings. You didn't think there would be much danger outside a guarded ED but alas.

One second your waving your friend off and the next, your on your hands and knees on the floor. It happened so fast you couldn't comprehend what even occurred.

"What the-"

Someone harshly pulling you up stopped your trail of thought, their grip so tight that you couldn't focus on the burning in your palms and knees.

"Joey! Let me go you dickhead!" You shouted at the boy as soon as you looked up at the perpetrator.

Pulling your wrists from grasp, you grunted when his grip didn't let up, instead it did the opposite and tightened to the point that your hand was starting to go pale.

"Please Joey- Please just let me go and we can talk this out, I promise." You pleaded with him, eyes going glassy when he started pulling you away from the hospital entrance, panic finally setting in.

You tried pulling yourself away, heels digging into the ground to stop him but he was too strong, his height and build giving him an advantage along with being on the football team while you barely even participated in gym.

"Joey your hurting me-" You were cut off when he shoved you up against the wall head first and then repeatedly shoved your head back when you kept talking.

"Shut up bitch!" He almost screeched, hand on your forehead to prevent your head from moving, ensuring your eyes remained on him.

Your vision blurred, head banging with what felt like the worst headache in the universe. Your reply was simply a whine, no words possible due to the pain he inflicted.

His elbow was digging into your torso, your lungs and ribs restricted from any movement because of the pressure.

"J-Jo..." Everything of his increased, his grip, his shouts, the pain he caused.

Your breathing was taken away from you when he suddenly brought his fist to your torso repeatedly.

All of a sudden, he disappeared and you were falling, your legs unable to support you.

Before you could meet the ground, you were caught and being hauled into an embrace you hadn't felt in a decade. The familiar cologne one you bought with your own pocket money and a voice you'd known since birth.

"I've got you Y/N." Will whispered to you, cradling you gently in his arms.

"Ethan, you got him?" Will called out to his colleague but you were so out of it you couldn't see the other doctor.

"I'll handle him, get her inside." Ethan replied as he restrained Joey, his past military training helping him plenty.

The last thing you remembered was Will's reassuring words before everything went black.

*****

"We have to wait for her to wake up to determine how bad the concussion is but besides that, she's okay." Will finished explaining to Jay the prognosis who arrived five minutes ago.

"She's also got old bruises." Jay finally looked up from your face to Will's, anguish clear on the latter's face. "This has been going on for a while now."

Jay was speechless.

He was at a crime scene when Will called him, something neither brother did when they knew the other was at work and despite trying to anticipate what was going to happen, he could never guess it would be this.

Will explained that he and Ethan were taking a quick breather outside together after the death of their last patient when they heard a man shouting and though they couldn't see you, Will easily recognised Joey.

While Ethan subdued Joey, Will wasted no time in getting you to safety and inside the ED where Connor treated you.

There would be no long lasting effects from any of the injuries but they were bound to stick around for a while and they would definitely hurt.

Will couldn't get it out of his memory - seeing your ex boyfriend continuously punching you with no remorse and almost strangling you with the death grip he had. Will saw it every time he blinked and felt like puking.

Jay had walked passed Joey when he entered the ED and to say he felt like throttling the boy was putting it very, very lightly.

But Jay had plans for little Joey, he was more than confident that Voight would let him have a few words with him later. Especially if it involved you - his boss seemed to have a weak spot whenever you were involved, everyone did.

"I need to find Goodwin and get off shift early, I'll be back." Will said. Maggie could only do so much for so long.

Jay hummed. "I've got her, she's not going anywhere don't worry."

Will hadn't been gone for long when you started coming back to. Jay was messaging Hailey, asking for updates on what they were doing with Joey when he felt your fingers twitch in his other available hand.

Jay waited patiently, forcing himself to let you take your time and not rush you just in case. Will mentioned a concussion that they weren't too sure on the extent on its damage.

Your whimpers had his heart in your control, a lump in his throat at you clearly in pain and his inability to cure and rid of all your ills.

Seeing your eyes, the colour so bright under the hospital lights and because of the fear you felt so vividly, Jay found himself unable to breath for a moment.

"Is he gone?" You whispered, voice hoarse as you squinted up at your older brother.

"Yes he is." Jay nodded, ignoring the burning that randomly enveloped his eyes and brushed your hair back with such a feather light touch that you didn't register the gesture. "He's never going to touch or bother you ever again, I promise."

The only response you could formulate was tears, the waterworks instant as soon as the words came out of Jay's mouth.

"Will and I will make sure nothing happens ever again, we promise."

[darealsaltysam]

I JUST GOT BACK FROM SEEING DUNE PART 2 AND HOLY FUCK OH MY GOD HOLY SHIT HOLY FUUUUCK I NEED TO. I NEED TO. I NEED TO TALK SO BAD HOLY SHIT

below the cut because oh boy do i have a lot to say and i dont want my poor followers to suffer when i post this

oh my god okay okay where do i even start

opening with irulan's narration to mirror her notes in the openings of the chapters of the book. oh yeah baby. i ate that right up

watching paul get close with the fremen,,,,, fucking hell that hurts. dune really is a tragedy at the end of the day huh. they go from reluctant allies to friends but the whole time you know the switch will happen any moment now and they will be devotees and he will be messiah and that gap between them will never be as small as it is out in the sand. huddled in those tents. sharing drinks and laughs. im not doing ok

this especially hurts with chani. their love is so genuine and pure and she wears blue for him (which by the way sticks out so much more with how muted the colors of the rest of the movie are... i could talk about this all day) but she can see what he is becoming and he's trying to avoid it for her so hard but there's no avoiding fate. LORD ABOVE!!!!

i loveeee jessica being the manipulator thats pulling all the strings, urging paul towards becoming messiah. rebecca ferguson is such a talented actress she really understands the character so well. also as a hashtag certified alia atreides enjoyer her scheming with her unborn fetus might be the most unhinged thing ever but thats also so fucking funny aka its as dune as it gets. dune is WEIRD and im glad theyre not shying away from that. thank u denis

arrakis looks so much more beautiful in this movie like theres defo been some changes with how its framed and presented it feels so much grander and idk just ??? what it makes me think is that we're not seeing arrakis, we're finally seeing dune. we're seeing the land as the fremen see it as paul becomes one of them. i might be looking too much into it but who cares. god i love this movie

but yes more on the fremen in the first section of the movie. i like how there's this cluster of non-believers almost?? its a nice breath of fresh air. its hard to believe every single person would be just devoted to the prophecy and it adds some depth.

i will say the one thing i didnt like is the way stilgar is characterized?? i dont think he was so blindly devoted to paul in the books, and definitely not alia and leto ii after him as the atreides line went on. he's always been a source of small doubt towards paul but i think they're moving that element of him onto chani, so i think i can let it slide. i'd like to see him question alia more in the future though.

the scene where paul was named muad'dib and usul??? god it was so cute which made it so heart wrenching. all the fremen coming together and welcoming him into their lives. as a brother. as a friend. only for him to turn around and make them all bow before him. ohhhhh i cant do this

OH BOY THE WORMS THE WORMS AND THE WORM RIDING AND THE AHHHHHHHHH OH LORD

jesus christ. what the fuck. how is this allowed on cinema screens how is something so amazing allowed

the tension. the effects. the sound design. the sand rushing past the wind the worm moving forward paul struggling to hold on the fremen all watching and then cheering him on HOLY FUCKKKK HOLY FUCK I WAS HOLDING MY BREATH

all the worm riding scenes were so intense and so well done like. when i first read that stuff in the books i didnt think anything could ever capture how i imagined it exactly and yet. AND YET. DENIS!!!!!!!!

once more dune hits the idea of scale SO well everything is HUGE and they MAKE YOU FEEL IT. that shows especially with geidi prime but ill talk about that in a bit. but yes this applies to the worms too lord above them WORMSSSS ARE HUGEEEE AND I LOVE THEMMMM

rebecca ferguson put her heart and soul into that water of life scene and we all need to thank her for it

the way jessica is so quick to switch up and go all in on the prophecy. it makes me think of leto's "im not asking his mother, im asking the bene gesserit" like. the bene gesserit really come first for jessica and she takes her opportunity to fulfill her duties. to be the reverend mother. to rub it all in the faces of the other bene gesserit. she is the mother of the messiah and by god will she make everyone well aware of that

okay. okay okay. i think i said my peace on the early fremen stuff. i think. okay fuck okay SHIT fuck SHIT

FEYD FUCKING RAUTHA LADIES AND GENTLEMEN

oh my god okay. okay ill admit it. i doubted austin butler. i saw the cast list and i was unsure(tm). i saw him in the trailers and my faith was restored. and holy fucking shit did he DELIVER

stellan skarsgård's baron harkonnen is already such a threatening figure it feels like it would be impossible to make someone even more terrifying and yet. AND YET

just the way he's introduced. killing servants with zero remorse. LICKING THAT KNIFE THE WAY HE DID??? OKAY WHORE. I SEE YOU. GO RIGHT AHEAD. MAKE IT SLUTTY IN HOUSE HARKONNEN. I RESPECT IT

when the arena doors open and that loud ass fucking music BOOMS. makes the room fucking SHAKE. thats a PRESENCE right there. THATS how you introduce your antagonist.

the music playing as he fights being as fucking deranged as he is. chaotic and weird and unsettling. just. oh my god feyd had such a presence from the moment he showed up and he did not lose it for a single second. you could feel him LOOMING over the movie the whole time just as he looms over the whole book from his very first scene. oh my goddddd oh my godd

GEIDI PRIME. THE ARENA. THAT MASSIVE HARKONNEN PALACE. oh my god. once more. that sense of scale. the harkonnens love to flaunt their wealth so ofc they have huge fuck off arenas and castles where everything and everyone feels so SMALL in comparison.

dont even get me started on the black and white. the way it accents those coal black teeth and mouths. the way it makes everything look so much more inhuman and clinical and PERFECT because harkonnen power is so absolute and ruthless.

and the way the baron sits so so high above watching the fighting. literally impossible to picture his elevation above his people above the rest of the universe. the way feyd looks to him for approval after every movement. even as his uncle is trying to kill him they exchange those little looks and feyd knows hes getting his chance to show off while the baron gives him his "gift" what a fucked up family what the hell

speaking of fucked up family! wow! they are SO fucked up! there is something seriously strange being hinted at with feyd and the baron! feyd making his own brother bow and kiss his boot! those constant threats of death against rabban as if theyre nothing! this family is capital f FUCKED up. they hurt each other as much as they hurt everyone around them. theyre made of violence and blood and they could never show each other kindness because they dont know such a thing

what can i say about the feyd/margot scenes that hasnt been said already. like wow just unpack the boy's trauma like that. use him and then throw him to the wolves. once again the bene gesserit make it so clear this is THEIR empire and THEIR bloodlines and THEIR messiah. too bad jessica doesnt see that collective "ours" and instead settles for "mine" when it comes to the messiah

special shout out to dave bautista before i move on. just cause. his rabban doesnt get enough love. he really sells that balance of ruthless power but also incompetency compared to his brother so well. can you guys tell i REALLY like this cast

WE ACTUALLY GOT TO SEE GURNEY PLAYING THE BALISET WE FUCKING WIN Y'ALL

the paul/gurney reunion being the last shred of the old paul. how he gets so happy "i recognized your footsteps, old man" shoot me in the fucking brain stem it would HURT LESS

a bit off topic and it happened earlier (sorry my thoughts are so all over the place) but i like how they actually showed the process of how the water of life is made. it was actually exactly like how i imagined it when i read the books so thats neat !!

anyway. back to the horrors.

i already talked so much about feyd's presence so just another small note. that scene in sietch tabr. he is a MONSTER and i am EATING IT UP

i cant even begin to explain. how much it fucked me up. when paul took the water of life. i knew thats where we were going. i knew it was unavoidable. and yet still. when chani bent over him and screamed at everyone for making him follow this prophecy. when she was forced to shed tears to save his life. when she got him back only to realize she lost him and he wasnt the person she loved anymore. it broke me

chani's utter hatred for the prophecy and what paul is becoming added to it so much. i know some people are unhappy with how much shes been changed from the books but i think its elevated her character and all these scenes so much. and oh my god does zendaya DELIVER when the spotlight is on her. i never doubted her for a moment but all those changes to chani really allowed to let her shine. thats that euphoria acting coming out baby !!!!

SPEAKING OF GOOD ACTING

TIMOTHEE

FUCKING

CHALAMET

listen i hate the fact that he gets cast in everything these days as much as everyone but hes such a talented actor and i cant deny this anymore. the water of life scene really sold it for me.

he was such a perfect paul already in the first movie but this was the moment it really came out. the way he wakes up so calm and collected. lifeless. monotone. theres nothing theres literally nothing

paul atreides the boy who became duke far too young is dead usul who was the lover of chani is dead muad'dib the fedaykin fighter is dead only the kwisatz haderach remains and thats what the prophecy was always leading us to and yet the moment it happens its so haunting

like i cannot say this enough. that complete switch is so sudden but so subtle at the same time. its still paul technically but hes so different

what makes dune's weird concepts so easy to take in once you get into the book is all that internal monologue that really leads you through these complex concepts slowly. and yet in a few shots and a few lines of dialogue timothee chalamet somehow manages to express the idea of "i just learned the secrets of the fucking universe and im about to start a holy war" ???? HOW DO YOU EVEN DO THIS???? HOW ARE YOU THIS TALENTED???? OH MY GOD!!!!!!!! IT WAS A FEW LOOKS A FEW MOVENTS JUST THE RIGHT TONE OF VOICE AND THATS HIM!!! THATS HIM BABY!!!! THATS THE KWISATZ HADERACH AND THE UNIVERSE IS FUCKED !!!!!!!!!

also. anya taylor joy alia. we only had you for a split second but i cannot wait for you. im sure youre going to completely slay the third movie. give us our beloved tragic meow meow. alia is my fave character so i will be JUDGING HEAVILY. she better bring her a-game istg

when paul storms the war council and just completely takes control of the room so easily. thats the bene gesserit conditioning giving him his pedestal and he is making the most of it. he knows exactly what the fuck hes doing. and once more oh my goddddd all that shouting all that emotion and yet a complete lack of it. timothee spare a crumb of talent for the rest of us

also the way in that scene gurney is hesitant about it all until paul proclaims himself the duke of arrakis. and suddenly gurney has house atreides again and he doesnt care what chani does anymore. hes a follower to paul just as everyone else in that room. nothing changes. fuck me man i cant do this anymore

have i mentioned yet im so excited for chani in the next movie. her arc is so interesting. children of dune is defo not happening with the way chani has been set up so i doubt we'll see leto ii and ghanima but. lets hope we still get all the cool stuff wit alia at least. and maybe chani can be the one who leads the charge against her

okay i need to really fucking. get along with it im dragging this post on im so sorry this movie is eating my brain alive

chani still wearing blue during the final fight. im not saying more than that i might cry if i think about it too much

THAT. FINAL. FIGHT. OH MY GODDD OH MY GOD

IT ALL CAME TOGETHER SO SO WELL

THE WORMS

THE SENSE OF SCALE

THE FIGHT CHOREOGRAPHY

THE MUSIC HOLY FUCK THE MUSIC HANS ZIMMER YOU OUTDO YOURSELF EVERY TIME

THE SOUND

EVERYTHING FLOWING TOGETHER SO WELL

the way the fremen fight for their messiah but still fly the atreides banner. the way paul leads them as their messiah and as a "fremen" but always proclaims himself duke of house atreides first. oh lorddd im unwell

every time paul menacingly emerged from fog/sand/smoke my life was extended by like 10 years thank u denis

gurney killing rabban with as much ease as he did cleared my skin and watered my crops <3

the way the baron was literally dying and still crawling towards the throne.......... the way at the same time feyd ignored him completely and looked towards the doors reveling in the fight ahead..... if that doesnt tell u everything you need to know about house harkonnen idk what will yall

i also love how no one intervenes as paul walks in and kills the baron. not even feyd. feyd looks like he was a little TOO into it as paul killed him tbh. feyd u little freak. austin butler you talented talented man. im unwell

i AM sad we didnt get to see baby alia stab him but ah well. we got a bunch of other weird dune shit so ill let this one slide. the psychic toddler may be too much even for denis and everything he did give us. we'll always have our 1984 alia <3

OHOHOHOHOHOHOH. OH. HERE WE GO

HERE WE GO YALL

THE SCENE IVE BEEN WAITING FOR SINCE READING THE BOOK

THE SCENE THEY SHOWED BITS OF IN THE TRAILER AND THE SCENE IVE BEEN NON STOP YEARNING FOR SINCE!!!

THE DUEL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

oh my god oh my god oh my goddddd where do i even start

okay so. the way theres no music. no fancy cuts no slow mo no over the top effects. its just the slashing of the blades and those BEAUTIFUL shadowed shots with the setting sun in the background. this really is the sun setting on the peaceful universe. just pain and suffering ahead marked with the blood spilled from the two who were meant to produce the messiah but who both got thrown off this path by the greed and selfishness of their forefathers. guys im normal about paul and feyd. definitely. i definitely have very normal thoughts about how they are foils and yet two sides of the same coin. yes guys

paul making the emperor kiss his ring is already such an insane fucking scene and it translated to the screen so well. amazing performances all around

i didnt talk much about florence pugh's irulan but she really didnt have much time to shine. im excited to see where she goes next and i definitely think shes a great fit but i need to see more of her to really be able to say more

i will say this. the way chani, irulan and jessica are the only ones who dont kneel for paul. the three most important women in his life who give him his power, everything he has. jessica made him and she made him the messiah. chani opened her life up to him, helped him become and in turn control the fremen, and she shed her tears for him and fulfilled her role in the prophecy against her wishes. irulan is his path to the throne, his key to being emperor. and none of them bow before him because why would they bow before a power they are responsible for, a power they own, a power they gave?

but for chani its different ofc. she also refuses to bow because she despises everything paul stands for.

oh my god i could say so much about the last scene being chani. not paul reveling in his victory. paul leaves for his next bloodshed and chani is left behind crying for the person she loves who she knows is gone. crying for her people, again enslaved. crying those same tears that brought the messiah back into this world.

theres a lot to be said about the role of gender in dune and how it hangs over every facet of this world but thats a whole separate analysis post to be had so ill just throw it down here in this little point

another thing chani does very well in the movies is she really makes paul's villainy explicitly clear. SO many people read dune and completely misunderstand it and walk away from it concluding its a "white savior narrative" and nothing more which. yes!! yes it is!!!! but thats not a good thing!!!! its never stated to be a good thing!!!!

this movie is not gonna let you misunderstand the message of the story no matter how blind you try to be to it. paul is not a good guy. hes never been the good guy. hes the protagonist, but hes not the hero. and chani allows that to translate from book to movie very well. have i mentioned yet i love movie chani

chani fills in the holes left behind by the narration and internal monologues of the book and, bonus points, she holds the people who dont understand what dune is about by the hand and tells them explicitly "PAUL IS A BAD GUY!!! DONT IDOLIZE PAUL!!!! DONT WALK AWAY FROM DUNE THINKING ITS PRAISING PAUL'S ACTIONS!!!"

i think thats pretty much all i had to say. i might reblog with additions as they hit me but yeah i. i enjoyed the movie. so so much. i think i might watch it again sometime soon while its still in cinemas.

sorry for being unhinged hope u enjoyed my rants. kiss kiss night night <3

[ghostgirl-22]

patrick loses a match because he was staring at a pretty girl (or guy) and art spanks him for it.

Ah yes!! It’s gonna be a guy, of course! Also sorry if you don’t like daddy kink nonnie but it just kinda felt right <3

CW: 18+ NSFW spanking, mild daddy kink, silly boys being stupid

—-

Art wasn’t gonna say anything but it’s the third time the ball sails right past Patrick’s racket. His parents flew his grandma in to watch him play and they’re hurtling towards match point for the other team, the Sanchez twins. All because Patrick keeps gazing up in the stands to flirt with Braden Ross. He doesn’t even go to MRTA. He’s their teammate Adam Ross’s older brother and a football player at the University of Florida that Patrick met when they were out too late at a party last night. Another reason Patrick’s fucking up. He got too drunk and ended up spending the night in Bradens bed.

Art doesn’t care about any of it. What he cares about is Patrick getting himself together so his grandma can watch him win. He signals to Patrick, indicating where he plans to move on the court. Patrick hits a clean serve, even though his form is trash. It sails right by the other team. Art is relieved as they switch sides. Next ball lands in on Patrick’s second serve and the other team swats it back. Art pits a volley and somehow one of the brothers smashes it back, down towards baseline. Patrick is just two steps too slow and thats it. Game. Set. Match. Fuck.

They follow the protocol. Shaking hands and congratulating the other team. Art looks up in the stands, his grandma is still smiling but his parents look mildly unimpressed. Patrick is looking up in the stands too, waving and still flirting with stupid Braden.

“Hey man, I’m so sorry,” Patrick starts as they head to the locker room to go clean up.

“Save it,” Art mutters.

”Dude come on, slow down a bit. You’ll never believe I lost my boy virginity last night.”

Art rolls his eyes. “I don’t care. I told you my grandma was coming weeks ago.”

”I know but come on, she’s cool. She knows not every game is a winner.”

“That’s not the point Patrick.” Art continues as they enter the locker room. “I said I didn’t want to go to the party last night, you said it’d be fine. I said I didn’t want to stay late. You said it’d be okay, you weren’t even gonna drink anymore. And of course you’re out there hungover, slow as hell and you can’t keep your eyes off of Ross’ stupid brother.”

“Dude, I said I’m sorry.”

”It’s not good enough,” Art says.

“Okay? Dude, come on. What do I have to do?”

“Maybe actually learn a lesson, maybe actually fucking change.”

”A lesson? Look, bend me over your knee and spank me if you have to. But come on… now you’re missing the point.”

“What’s the point?”

“I lost my virginity. I had sex with Braden. Really good sex. I mean… I guess technically I wasn’t really a virgin… since I fucked what’s his name in the tennis club last summer. But it was definitely my first time with a freshman in college.” He’s grinning. Still not concerned with anything he might have done differently.

Art is so irritated that without thinking much about it he takes Patrick up on that spanking advice. Takes his open hand and slaps Patrick’s ass hard when he turns around. The sound rings through the empty locker room.

What happens after that is nothing that either of them really expect.

Patrick’s sharp intake of breath. The pleasant stinging feeling on the palm of Art’s hand. He can’t help it, he draws back and swings again. This time Patrick yelps a bit but his breathing is getting heavy. Art licks his lips, they feel dry all of a sudden.

“Bend over,” he says, quietly.

Patrick drops his bag and moves to bend over the bench, sticking his ass out. Art can feel his cock starting to swell. He smacks Patrick again. Harder. Patrick lets out another sound, a bit like a moan. Art does it again and no it’s not like a moan. Patrick is moaning.

Art begins to feel a little nuts. “You’re so fucking annoying. Maybe this will teach you a lesson,” He breathes, before hitting him again. Patrick whimpers.

“You’re spoiled rotten. All you care about is yourself, you’re so.” smack. “fucking.” smack. “self.” smack. “centered.” smack.

“Mmm I know, daddy.” Patrick whines.

Art swallows. He can feel more blood rushing towards his cock. God.

“I don’t think…” Art’s mouth is so wet he needs to swallow again. “I don’t think you get it, Patrick. Gotta…” he tugs at Patrick’s shorts. Pulls them down to reveal his bare bottom. He’s got freckles there too.

Distantly Art hears a whispered, “fuck yes.” Coming from Patrick.

Arts seen his ass before of course, Patrick isn’t exactly modest in their shared room. But he’s never seen it all reddened and warm like this. Art rubs it just a little, admiring his handiwork. All while drawing more elicit moans out of Patrick.

Art raises his hand again and the sound this time is louder, cleaner. Goes straight to Arts cock. He slowly starts to lose it. Spanking Patrick over and over again till Patrick is panting. Till his balls are seized up tight and he’s moaning “fuck” over and over.

Art is dizzy, his palm bright red and shaking. ”you gonna behave?” Art says, he barely recognizes his own voice.

“Mm yes, yes I’ll behave for you daddy,” Patrick says. Voice all soft.

Art can’t help it. He has to jerk off. He frees his cock and starts jerking it to the sight of Patrick’s reddened bottom. Only mildly aware that Patrick’s started touching himself too. And soon he’s doing it to the sound of Patrick’s moans.

He’s going insane. Losing his mind. he doesn’t think he’d be able to stop if the whole team walked in right now. He wouldn’t be able to fucking stop if his grandma was just outside. “Oh… oh shit,” Art whines, gasping as sticky strings of pearly liquid coat Patrick's ass and lower back. It looks so good Art thinks if he could he’d be hard all over again. He stumbles back, settling onto the bench across from the one Patrick is bent over, watching as Patrick finishes with a low grunt all over the floor.

Oh fuck yes,” Patrick breathes.

Art's hand is still stinging, throbbing. Patrick stands slowly and eases his shorts up over the mess. His face is nearly as red as his bottom was and he’s grinning.

Art bounces his leg, the ghost of his arousal already beginning to surface again. “Fuck. You didn’t learn a thing, did you?”

Patrick steps closer so he can straddle Arts knees, eyes all glittery with mischief. “Not a goddamn thing.”

(idk yall. im doing this on the clock lol)

[iznyangwoni]

EASY TO LOVE |chapter sixteen !

“You come with me.” Jungwon pulls your shirt lightly to catch your attention. You were about to get in the car with Wonyoung and Moka, so you turn around confused to look at the guy.

His brows are furrowed again, and his jaw is clenched. You decide to not comment on that, and instead you sign at Jay to switch places with you. Jungwon is basically dragging you into his car. “Jungwon.” He doesn’t answer, he opens the door for you and then just gets in the car.

Everyone else has already left, meanwhile Jungwon seems to be distracted, and really, really pissed. It’s annoying you. It really is, but you don’t want to stay in a car with him for two hours in a bad mood, so you put your hand over his before he can start the car. “Is everything okay?” “I don’t know, you tell me.”

He says, before brushing your hand off and starting the car. You look at him as if he’s crazy, because he’s honestly acting like it, you turn around to face the window, your arms crossed. The first thirty minutes of the ride are so silent its killing you, especially since only a few hours ago you both were in your room doing all kinds of things. What the hell could’ve gone wrong in so little time?

“You know, usually normal people have a conversation about what went wrong.” Jungwon lets out a sarcastic laugh, and you know for a fact that its not an amused one. “Well maybe you should figure it out yourself since you like acting like a damn smartass.” If his words weren’t pissing you off so much, you would’ve appreciated his appearance this morning way more.

He’s wearing a white sleeveless top, his arms flexing while he drives are about to drive you crazy. but this is not the right time. Still, you try again to be gentle, thinking that maybe it would help him calm down too. “I told you i dont like fighting with you, Wonie..” “Y/n right now its not the time to talk to me like that.”

You didn’t really notice at first, but he’s going really fucking fast. “Tell me what’s it about then? I cant read your mind.” You’re trying to act calm, but its so hard with him acting like this, speeding through the street and not giving you any reasons for your attitude. “Did you fucking got Minji expelled?” You keep silent.

Oh. So this is what is about. Jungwon takes a look at you when you dont answer, he already knows its the truth. You did it and he couldn’t understand why you did that over just a picture of the two of you kissing. “Y/n!” He almost shouts your name and you close your eyes for a second, he hits the steering wheel while also going faster.

“Slow down!” You shout back, you look at the mirrors, the street is completely empty, but that doesn’t make it any better. You put your hand on the handbrake, not wanting to pull it, but at least he would get the memo that way. “Jungwon slow the fuck down.” He doesnt think twice before taking your hand and putting it on your thigh. “Don’t you dare.”

“Slow down, you’re scaring me.” Jay had told you how fast of a driver Jungwon is, but this still doesnt seem normal. The guy sighs, his hand still on yours as he slows just a bit down, if he kept going that fast you would’ve probably threw up somewhere. “We shouldn’t talk about these things when you’re driving.”

“Oh sure now you’re the one who doesn’t want to talk.” “Jungwon-“ “Did you do it, yes or no?” You keep silent once again. The answer is obvious but you still cant bring yourself to tell him the true reason for that. You don’t want to tell him how scared you are about that video being leaked, you don’t want things to go back how they were last year.

“Jungwon you wouldn’t understand..” You feel your voice breaking, you know he’s never going to talk to you ever again after this. “Yeah i honestly don’t understand ruining someone’s life for so little so maybe you’re right.” “It’s not something so little.” Jungwon parks on your driveway, neither your mother or brother are home at the moment, but you dont want him to get inside the house right now.

“What it is then? Y/n i tried to act like i dont care, i really did, but this is getting bigger than i thought and i need to know now.” You shake your head to say no, your throat is already hurting, you dont want to cry. He’s going to hate you either way, so might as well go all out. “I can’t tell you. Just accept it.”

“Y/n you just ruined Minji’s life, how can i accept it?” You can see the disappointment written on his face, and that honestly breaks your heart even more, so you break eye contact, your eyes on your hands, playing with the keys of your house. “And who the hell are Ricky and Jiyoon?” You panic as you hear those names, where the hell did he get those?

“How much more do you know?” “That is not the point.” “Just tell me!” Jungwon stays silent when you snap at him like that. He can see your hands shaking, but he doesn’t say anything about it, his voice comes out much colder when he speaks next. “Only that you got them expelled too.”

You nod, it’s still much more than what you’d want him to know, but at least he isnt aware of what actually happened. “Y/n just how much more are you hiding? I care about you, and if the fact that something happened to you is true, then i need to know what it is. But by the only pieces of information i have, you look like the villain here.”

You chuckle sarcastically, of course you’re the villain in this story too. So why would you tell him the truth? He’d probably find a way to blame it on you just how many others did. You shake your head again, taking off your seatbelt and opening the door. “Y/n.”

“I told you you were getting too attached, Jungwon. I am not a good person, i do shitty stuff and dont get consequences because of my surname. I’m a spoiled, evil, mean little girl who has never had a bad day. And everything else that people told you about me. I’m sorry you believed that i wasn’t.” and with that you get out of the car, slamming the door loudly before getting in your house.

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[ssahotchnerr]

chaotic hotchner siblings hcs (alternatively titled, jack and ellie hotchner; reasons 2 and 3 why hotch takes anti anxiety meds)

-you ever see that tiktok of that little boy meeting his baby sister, and she’s wrapped in a blanket, and the first thing out of his mouth is “she doesn’t have any arms?” that’s how your lovely son introduces himself to his sister. it’s brought up by every member of the BAU every time they see jack for years after

-when you guys try and teach ellie how to ride a bike, jack runs holding the handlebars to get ellie some speed before he has her try by herself. he sends her off with a “don’t eat shit!”. aaron gets halfway into his lecture before a crash cuts him off—ellie had hit a curb and flipped herself into a bush. her curly head of hair pops up moments later, gleefully proclaiming “i ate shit!”

-they match each other’s hyperfixations a little TOO well. one time it was michael jackson and not only did jack twist his ankle trying to moonwalk, “HEE HEE” had to be banned because if aaron heard it from across the house one more time he would have had an aneurysm

-ellie’s middle initial, O, might as well be short for “out of pocket”. she was benched at one of her soccer games once because a girl on her team had said something hurtful about jack not being her “real” brother because they had different moms. your daughter promptly responded with, “well, YOUR mommy had you and she never comes to our games!”

-despite their age gap, you and aaron will refer to them as the tornado twins because when the two of them are hyped up about anything, they’re forces of nature.

-the first time ellie was ever catcalled, she was 13, and it was by a neighbor boy skating by while she and jack gardened outside. before jack could turn around and give him hell, ellie promptly switched settings on the hose and powerwashed the boy off his skateboard. the “YES!” jack screamed scared you and aaron, but by the time you two had made it outside, the two of them were mid chest bump and the boy had long vanished. thankfully, your ring doorbell had gotten the entire thing. aaron will watch it whenever he needs a laugh

STOP i love each and every one of those oh my god????

jack 😭 i can imagine him entering the hospital room, ready to meet his sister after waiting what has felt like forever, but he's soo shy 🥺 he's all smiles when he sees you, but soberly approaches ellie's little bassinet. when he sees her, his eyebrows furrow all quizzically, looks up at aaron, and asks about her arms 😭 he's so sweet

first, the visual of aaron lecturing jack, but then being interrupted by ellie's crash 😭 aaron immediately sprints ahead to her rescue, but not without tossing over his shoulder (over ellie's initial wails before she pops up 😭) "we're not done discussing this🫵🏻"

and omg aaron has soo many, "oh god help me🙄" moments due to the two of them just wreaking havoc 😭 but despite it all, he wouldn't have it any other way 🥹🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

THE SOCCER ONE i'm 100% writing a full fic about that omg 😭 hold me to it PLEASE

ellie with the hose 😭 it's the way she does not hesitate AT ALL. and jack being all celebratory about his sister's actions LMAO i love them both so so so so so so much 😭

you're quite literally a genius thank you for sharing all of those 😭 i'm actually obsessed and will be thinking about them forever 🫶🏻

[areyoufuckingcrazy]

“Hit Me (Like You Mean It)”

Commander Wolffe xBounty Hunter!Reader

⸻

The cantina on Vradros IV reeked of sweat, desperation, and synth-spice. Which is to say, it smelled exactly like a place Wolffe would pick for a “quiet recon op.”

You leaned against the bar, twirling your drink with one hand, your blaster slung low on your hip like a challenge. You felt him before you saw him—Commander Wolffe moved like a ghost in armor, all steel and unspoken tension.

“You missed our meeting,” he said, voice low and gruff behind that half-scorched vocabulator.

You smirked. “I was busy. Didn’t realize I needed your permission to have a life.”

“You don’t.” He paused. “Just seems like yours always conveniently conflicts with mine.”

You turned, sipping your drink lazily. “Aw. You miss me, Commander?”

Wolffe didn’t flinch, but the corner of his mouth twitched like it wanted to. “You’re a pain in my shebs.”

“And yet,” you drawled, “here you are.”

He looked tired. No—past tired. He looked hollowed out, like someone who’d been running on fumes since the war ended, and no one remembered to tell him he could stop.

You tilted your head. “You sleep at all?”

“Enough.”

“Eat?”

“When I remember.”

“Touch anyone lately?”

That got his attention.

His gaze flicked to yours, sharp and startled—but not offended. Never offended. Not with you.

“That’s a hell of a question.”

You shrugged. “It’s a hell of a galaxy.”

He was quiet for a beat, jaw tight.

Then, out of nowhere, he said, “You gonna hit me, or just keep talking?”

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” He stepped closer, chest brushing yours. “You’ve been itching for a fight since I walked in.”

“No, you’ve been begging for one.” You looked him up and down. “Why?”

“Maybe I deserve it.”

“Oh, don’t get all martyr on me, Commander.” You narrowed your eyes. “What’s really going on?”

He didn’t answer. Just stared at you, every inch of him coiled and unreadable.

And then he said, almost too quiet: “I just want to feel something.”

Ah.

There it was.

The crack in the armor.

Not in his phrasing—Wolffe would never be that direct—but in the weight behind the words. You’d seen it before. In soldiers who lost brothers. In children who never got hugged enough. In yourself, sometimes, when the nights were long and the stars too loud.

“Fine,” you said, stepping in close. “You wanna get hit?”

He nodded once, stiff.

You swung. Not hard—but enough to snap his head to the side.

The cantina didn’t even blink. No one cared. It was that kind of place.

Wolffe exhaled, slow and shaky. Turned his head back toward you.

And smiled.

A real one. Lopsided. Crooked. Full of pain and something almost like relief.

You grabbed the front of his armor and pulled him down to your level. “Next time you need to be touched, maybe try asking, instead of playing wounded karking bantha.”

He leaned in, voice rough. “Would you say yes?”

You kissed him.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t sweet.

It was raw. Like striking flint to stone.

His hands came to your waist, holding on like he didn’t trust the ground to stay solid. You felt the tremor in him—not fear. Not hesitation. Just need.

You pulled back, just enough to murmur against his mouth: “Touch-starved bastard.”

He looked at you like you’d reached inside him and flipped a switch he forgot existed. “I deserved that punch.”

“You’ll deserve the next one too.”

He smirked. “Looking forward to it.”

⸻

[thespiritofaconductor]

Welcome Aboard to the Remains of Battle Subway!

——————————————————————————

- Greetings, this is an ask blog to my pokepasta AU of Ingo (and Emmet) — The Conductor’s Spirit. This is NOT going to be a free all-out interaction ask blog, there will be a couple of rules to follow before stepping in to the station. Viewer discretion is advised—as this blog contains slight gore. the art ref at the bottom and the explanation to the lore (on ingo) can be your advisory.

- They are simple.

Blankshippers can indeed interact, but do not mention anything about that ship or anything related to it.

NSFW DO NOT INTERACT!

Please try to ask questions — and reasonable asks worth for me to answer. Yes you are allowed to ask and speak to Emmet (The Cries of a Conductor ), too. [But make it known who the ask goes to-ingo or emmet] You are allowed to interact with touch—like hugs. NOTHING inappropriate. You can also send reaction images as long as they are family friendly. (Swears are allowed, I don’t mind. Slurs too.)

Please do not be mean to Ingo, and Emmet.

As I mentioned before, inappropriate topics aren’t allowed. I suppose I’ll let NSFW interact as long as they keep their mouths closed about that interest. Just try not to make the user(s) uncomfortable.

You get the idea. Follow the rules, safe driving! Follow the schedules. Everyone SMILE! Check safety. Everyone’s ready! Aim for victory! All Aboard!

Viewer discretion is advised.

“On a normal day of work, I was off on the tracks fixing the switch stand lever, until I heard an oncoming train horn coming in my direction. I didn’t think much of it, until it was too late. Just as I near the completion of the switch, I seen lights, rushing at me full speed ahead. I heard my brother, Emmet, call out to me and get me to step aside, but to my inconvenience, I didn’t listen and focused on the tracks and switch. Those lights appeared to be a train, and just as I tried to get out of the way, it has already collided with me… The last thing I heard was Emmet’s sobs and pleas, and the sound of destruction.”

“By the time I woke up, I was in a hospital room. Nobody was around… I was at least expecting to see Emmet there waiting for me to arise… I made my way through the corridors to reach the station again. …The station looked in very bad shape. As if nobody has been taking care of it throughout my absence. Everything was still functioning, pretty finely, actually.”

“I made it down to the tunnels—the tracks. And the sight I saw certainly was… something. Something to cause a panic. I spotted a derailment, ashes of the tunnel walls and remains of the burnt down. I went to investigate.. But all was hell. There was a lead to Gear station. I went through. …Gear station appears to have blown up. The train did also.”

“Further investigation, I spotted Emmet. Emmet looked… Very distraught. He didn’t even look at me. He was just covered in ashes, drenched in tears, still sobbing today. I waited, I went towards a mirror I saw. I took a good look at my body… And it was frantic. My own eyes widened, in question of what had happened here. There was a large gap inside of my stomach, revealing my ribs… Bloody tears stuck underneath my sockets, and everything else was simply just … Torn apart. Now my question was: Did that train come in impact with me?”

“I went back to Emmet, to see if he could tell me something about this. Although… He didn’t respond. I was scared to if he even would face me without a shout or more fearful panic sobs. But, He didn’t even hear me. He felt my hand, though, thats for sure. He tried to look for what touched him… But he looked right through me. that’s when it all clicked. I was dead. I was indeed hit. …If only I listened to first time.”

REFS (he gash will look better the more asks i get and the more art i put up—i sorts rushed these pieces)

[jollyhunter]

Everyone knows (and agrees with me, I'm sure) that the one episode concept we really missed out on was a Sam and Dean body swapping. What do you think they would do if they did body swap for a day OR (alternative or additional question) what's the episode concept that would magically exist in your perfect Djinn reality? <333

Okay, not gonna lie. I had to think about this for a while. Thanks for the question friend 😏

Now, I gotta put a disclaimer here first: I haven't watched all the seasons yet, so if I'm getting things wrong or something like this does actually exist as an episode please just ignore my rambling. <33

Sam and Dean body swapping would have been interesting and hilarious! I to be honest think they'd have a strict 'no touching my body' rule and they sure as hell would both follow it. Because - I don't have any siblings so correct me if you think I'm wrong - I strongly believe that you wouldn't want to touch your dongle when you're in your brothers body since that's basically just like touching them and we don't go down that lane. Nope - nuh -uh.

Despite that, I feel like Dean would enjoy being taller and would constantly be like "huh, so that's the view you have of me. thank god I only date shorter girls than me". He'd probably hit his head at least a dozen times on door frames, or when sliding into the seat of Baby or when he whips his head around to look after a lady just to get slapped in the face by Sam's long ass hair and he slams into a pole half-blinded by them 😂 Also bowlegs. They’d both walk funny. Dean stumbling around not being used to the long stalks and Sammy trying to make the bowlegs work.

Sam would probably hover over him the entire time and tell him to stop messing with his body because oh this is going to be a field trip for Dean. He'd shove any food down that hatch that makes Sam pull at his - well - short Dean-hair. Speaking of hair. Dean would absolutely get a hair cut just to piss Sammy off. He might even get some stupid unamoosed-tat on his ass cheek (the pain's worth Sam's reaction). Basically, I'd imagine this episode when they're older version prank day where they'd both act like stupid teenage boys again 😏

ALRIGHT SO. NEXT QUESTION. (Sorry I'm just rambling at this point)

About the episode concept that would exist in my perfect Djinn reality? Let's just say I'm super torn between 'I just wanna see my boy(s) happy' and 'I'd love to see how they're in our world with no angels, no lucifer or apocalypse, no monsters, but they still do their job - but wait, there are no monsters? Oh but yes. They still kill.

But as two unhinged contract killers who are known as "The Brothers" or "The Winchesters" with their own twisted set of morals who always get the job done' (guess this is more of an alternate universe oopsie - sorry!)

Imagine something like Dexter, or “The Twins” (Lemon and Tangerine 🫶) of Bullet Train for the vibe. 🤭

Oh and how could I forget the good old angst-version:

I've always wondered what Dean's and Sam's life would look like if their birth order was switched. Meaning, Dean was the little brother and Sam the older one.

Dean's entire personality is built on the fact that he's 'the older brother'. Not just literally but also figuratively speaking. The moment Dean had to carry baby Sammy out of the flames with his innocent 4 years and was told to "look after his little brother", his role was set in stone. He has to be the strong one, the one who protects and looks out for Sam - and basically anyone but himself.

This just makes me wonder what would he be like if their roles were switched? What would Sam be like? Would he have dealt differently with the responsibilty? Just gonna throw this out there. What do you think? 🥺 And what would be your favorite magical Djinn reality? 👀

[z-eel]

i’ve survived work but i was fighting a caffeine headache for like four hours. i hope you like this. i’m going to go pass out in my rat nest

after that night, regulus just doesn’t really … leave. one day they even come home to regulus waiting for them because he claims they locked him out. it’s not that they’re complaining, they’re just confused. regulus has a fancy remote tech job where he makes a ton of money and can afford an ex-boyfriend-less apartment. he just doesn’t get one. he even still has stuff there, but he spends all his time with james and remus. his excuse? james is a great cook, remus makes amazing brownies, their tea selection is amazing, and their shared home library is something to be marveled at. why the hell would he leave?

there’s also one other reason he doesn’t want to. well, two.

the way that they were so protective of him, so understanding, so kind … who could blame regulus if he wanted to climb his brother’s friends like trees. and he wasn’t oblivious. he knew they were watching him. he could see the way remus subtly adjusted himself when he walked past in only a towel. he noticed that any time he laid on the floor reading, james would pause for just a moment before continuing. (this would make even more sense when james later confesses about his free use fantasies)

it’s been a long week. it’s finally saturday, james sleeps in every sunday, the moon isn’t for another week and a half, so they’re passing around a joint. it’s enough to make regulus the lightweight float. on his next pass around the circle, he tells the joint that he wishes they’d pass him around too. and then as he’s taking a hit of it, he realizes that 1. he was just talking to a joint. and 2. he said that out loud. he looks up at remus and james who are both … surprised but not.

in sync as usual, james goes did you just talk to the joint? as remus asks him if he really wants them to pass him around. regulus’s slightly shameful answer is yes to both.

remus takes the joint and takes one last hit off it. before he blows out the smoke, he turns to james and pulls open his mouth to shotgun it. the way james moans into his mouth at the taste and visibly tangles their tongues together… it’s downright pornographic. he stubs the joint out. i think we’ve had enough of that then. regulus do you want to join us in our bed tonight or do you want to just go to bed and listen to me fuck james into the mattress?

and regulus with his typical edges softened by the weed says he’s going to join them. no argument, no debating within himself, just acceptance that, yeah, he’s going to join them tonight. and hopefully other nights. maybe forever. okay, he’s getting ahead of himself. fuck first, romance later.

he ends up naked on all fours in their bed while they quietly argue over… a game of rock paper scissors? regulus isn’t entirely sure, he’s facing away, but that’s kind of what it sounds like.

wait rem best seven out of thirteen – james i think reg is going to go soft if you don’t just accept defeat. i thought you wanted to eat him out anyways – okay but now i’m indecisive. can we do it this way and then switch and make him come again

that’s how remus ends up below regulus, sucking his pretty cock into his mouth. regulus is so eager for it that he accidentally bucks into remus’s mouth. remus can take it, but he wants regulus to have a fighting chance once james gets settled, so he forces him to take a slow pace. it’s barely more than a tease if not for the fact that nothing can be teasing when remus’s mouth feels just that heavenly.

and james deserves an award for how good he is at eating ass. he sucks on regulus’s hole in a way that has him crying out and leaking. james throws himself wholeheartedly into making regulus feel as good as possible. regulus is so responsive it has james leaking all over remus’s stomach below him, and he can’t even be bothered to feel ashamed because… fuck, regulus is one of the best things he’s ever tasted

-💫🐀

aww poor baby, i hope you get all the rest you need.

"fuck first, romance later' is so Regulus Balck oh my god

Remus would go to kiss Regulus, and it's like so messy too because Regulus can taste himself and James is tongue is absolute magic, Regulus can't really mush else but pant and moan into the kiss with Remus. it also doesn’t help that Regulus is still high.

James' goal is to make Regulus come quickly because there are so many other things he wants to do but right he really wants to make Regulus come with his mouth. and Remus is mostly enjoying the view because it's a good fucking view.

and to be completely honest, i don't even think Regulus would come a second time before he'll knock out. like when they switch positions, James would be all enthusiasm, he would not let Regulus rest while Remus is making sure Regulus is still with them because his moans are becoming more breathy and every slight movement has Regulus nearly falling foreword.

(love the idea of Regulus struggling to keep up with James and Remus because he just didn't fuck as often as they did)

[pssy-wagn]

Day 26: Android/Cyborg

“...and that’s why you’re just better off without them. Are you listening to me?”

“Yes, Dean.”

Crossing his arms, he looks at Cas in the eyes from across the kitchen table, “Then what’d I say?”

“You went on and on about why this phone is better than that phone. For the umpteenth time.”

Looking at the bill in front of him, he points to the upgrade that Castiel can now have, “You have an upgrade, Cas. You can pick any phone you want. Why in the hell will you stick with an Apple phone? You’ve got your pick from Android, my personal favorite, Google Pixel-”

“It’s just a phone, Dean.”

Sighing, Dean stares kind of disheartened at his portion of the bill, “I still have about three months with mine.”

“And you want to trade it in so bad already. The only thing wrong with yours is the screen.”

“Protector. Screen protector. But I wanna get a new one too,” Dean whines.

“I don’t even want an upgrade. There’s nothing wrong with my phone.”

“No. Except it’s starting to drop calls, your pictures are blurry when you send shit to me, your Messenger sucks hardcore-”

“I thought it was just a software update I needed.”

“That’s Apple products for ya. They don’t give a shit. They’re just like that N’Sync song, buy, buy, buy but with a U, not like, goodbye. Anyways, that’s how they getcha.”

Looking at his phone, Cas makes a quick phone call.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Gabriel.”

“Hi, Cassie!”

Sighing, he ignores his dreaded nickname from his older brother, “Gabriel, you have an Android phone, right?”

“Talking to you on it right now. Why?”

“Time for an upgrade-”

“Oh, sweet. Yeah. There’s a reason why I ditched my iPhone. It was-”

Cas is listening to hear what’s next in his sentence but when he looks at his screen, it’s on his wallpaper of him and Dean kissing with fireworks going on in the background. Dean looks at him from his plate of eggs and bacon, “Did he hang up?”

“I think.”

Nodding, Dean tears a piece of bacon, “Or did it drop the call? Again.”

Sighing, Cas searches for Gabriel’s number in his cell. Before he even has time to hit Call, Gabriel is calling him.

“Gabriel?”

“Why did you hang up on me? I was talking for a good two minutes until I realized I was talking to nobody!”

“His phone sucks!” Dean hollers from the back as he retrieves his second mug of coffee, “Talk some sense into your brother!”

“Dean, quiet. I’m on the phone.”

“Not for long”, Dean mutters under his breath.

Cas throws him a frown, “I will spit in your coffee, Dean.”

“Oh, please. You say that so much, it’s lost all threat.”

Shaking his head, he goes back to his phone only to be shown his wallpaper again. Exhaling hard, he looks at Dean who has a smug smile on his face.

“Dropped again, huh?” Dean fishes out his phone from his hotdog pants, “Wanna use mine? I bet you can stay on the phone with Gabe’s little ass longer.”

Squinting his eyes at his husband, Cas grabs the phone from his outstretched hand, “I hate you so much right now.”

“Lost meaning too,” Dean laughs as he shoves a forkful of eggs in his mouth.

When Cas goes into the next room to make his phone call, Dean takes Cas’ phone to try to make a call.

Calling Sam, he puts his phone to his ear.

“Hey, Cas. What did Dean do this time?”

“The fuck? That’s the reason he calls you all the time?”

“Oh. Hahaha, uh, hi Dean.”

“Uh-huh. He doesn’t call just to say hi and shit?”

“He does. About two days ago we were talking about fish tacos.”

“Fish tacos?”

“Yeah. If made just right, they are pretty good but nothing compare-”

“Compared to what? Beef? Steak? Hello? Sam?”

Looking at the screen, he knows the call dropped. Laughing out loud, “Cas! Your phone sucks more dick than you!”

When he comes back into the kitchen, he slides Dean’s phone to him.

“So what did you and your brother talk about? He agrees with me, huh? It’s time to switch, Babe.”

Dean slides him his phone back. Cas looks at it, sadly, “I’m sorry, ol’ gal. I think it’s time to let you go.”

“Get the new Samsung one, Cas. That one looks awesome.”

“I’m saying goodbye, Dean!”

Putting his hands up in surrender, Dean simply rolls his eyes, “I’m gonna go get dressed. We could hit up the AT&T store before we gotta go grocery shop.”

“Fine.”

When they get to the store, Sam calls Dean. As soon as he pulls his phone out of his pocket, he drops it just outside the store; having it smash onto the sidewalk curb grill and down its drain. Both Dean and Cas look at each other, mouths agape.

“What the fuck?! My phone!”

Going on his hands and knees, Dean tries to fish it out but his arms are too big. Leaving him, Cas goes inside the store. Coming back out, a woman shines her phone’s flashlight into the drain, “Let me help you, sir.”

“Thanks.”

When she pulls it out, the phone is completely cracked. Dean tries to turn it on but hears the water sloshing around inside.

“Good thing you’re at an AT&T store, right?” The woman nervously chuckles.

“I guess.”

Walking inside, he sees Cas eyeing the display phones, “Cas? I’m getting a new one too.”

“Perfect. I’ll get the newest Apple, my husband wants the newest Android.”

“What? We’ve been over this, Cas!”

[spid3r-trans]

↓↓ some quick twins au for the birthday boys!!! ↓↓

If there’s anything Milo Morales hates, it’s spiders. So when a certain mask-wearing idiot crashes through the window of the room that he shares with his brother, he knows he’s fucked. 

When Milo gets home from school, his twin is nowhere to be found. He’d expected it, but that doesn’t mean he has to like it. 

Milo would cover for his brother in a heartbeat, but having to explain to his parents why they hadn’t come home together— having to lie to them at all — well, Miles better have a phenomenal reason to be out on this particular Friday night. 

Something about his brother has been off the past few days. Since the death of Spider-Man hit the news, Miles was more anxious than usual. He was hard to reach, and never where he was supposed to be. Milo can only give so many excuses to their teachers, and classmates-- to their parents before they all start to catch on. 

But worse, Milo didn’t know there were secrets they couldn’t share with each other. 

He thought they told each other everything, that no matter what happened— what either of them said or did — they would have each other's backs. 

Nothing was supposed to come between them. 

So what had?

Milo punches his pillow, getting the lumps out before he buries his face in the purple sheets. 

Seriously, his brother better have the hottest date in the world. That would be the only explanation Milo would accept, but that theory also relies on his twin having any sort of game— so Milo is really out of ideas. 

He reaches for his headphones, cranking the volume and squeezing his eyes shut as if the action alone could stop his thoughts from racing. 

Milo barely hears the tapping. 

It’s light at first— a gentle rapping against the glass window — easily mistaken for the raindrops. But it gets more urgent, insistent– annoyingly offbeat with the music from in his headphones to the point where it's nearly unbearable. 

Milo pulls them off his head and sits up, squinting at the window through the darkness. 

For a while, he doesn’t see anything. Just the rain splattering against the glass. But his heart is pounding, the hair on his arms is raised.

He knows something is wrong even if he can’t see it.

The window creaks. Fingers slide underneath. 

Milo’s hands find the baseball bat he keeps by his bed just as the window starts to slowly open. Slowly. Slowly.

There’s a sharp CRACK of thunder followed by a flash of lightning that illuminates the silhouette of a figure– a person– crawling through the window.

On all fours. 

The scream leaves Milo’s mouth just as his brother removes his mask.

–

Their father is at the door in seconds– nearly breaking it off its hinges as he throws it open– only to find his one of his sons lounging nonchalantly on his bed. 

Milo blinks up at him.

“Oh, sorry dad. Did you hear that? I was just watching a scary movie. CGI is really crazy these days.” He lets out the start of a laugh, but stops when he sees his father’s eye twitch.

“A scary movie?” Jefferson asks in disbelief, “In a thunderstorm?” He’s not really talking to Milo. He's already walking away– shaking his head and muttering about ‘the youth,’ and ‘losing his damn mind.’

Milo will apologize again later.

For now, he jumps up, shuts the bedroom door, and flicks on the light switch – looking up at the corner of the ceiling where his twin is perched.

Milo doesn’t even know where to begin. His brother is dripping wet from the rain, wearing what looks like a child’s Spider-Man costume, clinging to the ceiling.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” He asks. 

“I tried to get your attention before I came in–” Miles starts, and then looks at the club Milo had discarded before their dad had come in. “Were you going to hit me with a bat?”

“Was I gonna- Yes! Yes, I was going to hit you with a bat! Get down.”

Miles does. He drops from the ceiling with more grace than he’d shown in his entire life-- spinning around and landing solidly on the ground. This was the same kid who tripped over his own shoelaces every day? The same kid who fell off the wii fit board trying to hula hoop? 

“What happened to you?”

“Just promise me you won’t freak out.”

–

Milo does freak out. But he thinks it’s an appropriate amount, given that his own brother is a human spider.

“How big was the spider that bit you? Actually, don’t tell me. Don’t tell me.” Milo shivers.

He stands up, wiping his hands on his jeans as he shakes his head. “I don’t know, man. I don’t know. Maybe we should-” He stops when he sees Miles’ face. 

And suddenly it makes sense– why Miles’ hadn’t told him right away.

Because Miles didn’t want Milo to think differently about him. Miles didn’t want his brother to think that he was a freak or a hero. 

The last thing Miles needs right now is a brother that doesn't believe in him.

“This still makes more sense than you having a date, actually.”

Milo sighs.

“Okay, okay fine. What can I do to help?"

Miles seems surprised at first-- and then relieved. He grins at him.

Milo might hate spiders, but he loves his brother.

[teriwrites]

Behind Closed Doors: 'Something'

My Live Reactions to Reading Through My 2014 Novel

Honestly, I don't even care whether the chapter titles are strong, I'm just glad I have some divisions in this book

ADRIANA'S BACK HELL YEAH

She's sneaking her way through these city streets to go meet up with Fayina (the old lady who heads their coven)

'[Adriana] glared out into the snow, which had begun to pick up, and saw the face of her brother. "Val," Adriana acknowledged him dryly. "You're late, as usual." "Adriana, you know that I tried," Val argued, pushing his way past the door into the room. He turned to his little sister, arms thrown up in exasperation. "The owner of the pub didn't want me to leave early, and I had to run here as it is." This was very likely, and Adriana knew it, for the owner of the pub Valerie worked at strictly forbid his workers the permission to leave early. Still, the fact that he was late, once again, for a meeting she had reminded him constantly was of the utmost importance, bothered her to no end. Before showing him into the room Fayina was in, she shot her brother a glare.' (you can pry writing siblings from my cold, dead hands)

Oop she knows where Delroy is

'Fayina's voice shook with suppressed rage as she continued. "So you trusted a man who betrayed you?" "Given that he turned to become a butler for the cruelest Governor on the board of Governors, yes, I would consider it betrayal," Adriana told her stiffly.' (girl now is not the time to be snarky)

Truly nothing hits like complicated sibling dynamics. Val and Adriana were raised in a... difficult household, Val is older and made a break for it bc he had to get out of there, but he left Adriana behind because he couldn't provide for them both, and she's held resentment towards him ever since but they now work together regularly and have built up some degree of tentative trust *chef's kiss*

"There is one thing that may be done." "What is it?" Adriana and Val spoke in unison, and glanced at each other before turning back to Fayina. (like, come on!)

The 'one thing' is to take a dangerous journey to find the 'Talliod', who is essentially the Strongest Witch bc she's instilled with the spirit of the First Ever Witch, and those who survive the passage and meet her can have a brief window to utilize her full range of power

Adriana volunteers, Fayina is like 'omfg dumbass, only the head of a coven can go, i have to do it'

Omg Adriana being forced to accept Val's help, as she's essentially quarantined in this desolate house and he's the one who will be providing her with food/etc. I love it

"Remember, you have a reason to hold a grudge against your brother, but now is not the time to do so. Listen to him. He is experienced." yeees Fayina, i love it

Oh shiiiiiit after collecting all her stuff and heading back to shut herself up in their coven house, Genesia (her mentor who tried to kill her in the last book) finds her out on the street

"There is no reason under any circumstances to try and kill some of our members. Memories can be erased, mouths can be kept shut, but murder is not something we do." "Memories can also be restored, and mouths reopened. You are fools to believe that they would've kept quiet." (Genesia kinda ate with that ngl)

For someone who talks so much shit, Genesia has yet to win in a confrontation against Adriana

Back at the coven house, Fayina has already left, and Val helps Adriana settle in a little bit before heading out

And classic chapter ending on a character falling asleep

Ending Thoughts:

I love Adriana Estep so much Unlike with Nicole's sideplot in Below, I actually do know where this side of the story is going and why it's being included. It's also nice that I gave a whole chapter to her attention, rather than splitting up a single chapter into like switching POVs ten times. Were I to ever return to this project (highly unlikely), I know a few changes that I would make to this sideplot in particular, but it's nice to see it playing out regardless. Adriana is a little more of a dynamic character than Delroy, who's currently stuck in this dissonant state of holding opposing yet rigid beliefs about the world rn. She's seen a lot more and holds a much firmer role in her community, so it's fun to explore that side of things as well as the 'plunged into a whole new world' that Delroy is facing.

[saibugslegacy]

The Wand Chooses The Wizard

Word Count: 2k

Ambrose Varyn & Everett Varyn, Ambrose Varyn/Sebastian Sallow

Summary: It's the week before Ambrose's 6th year at Hogwarts and, as it turns out, his little brother Everett's first year. Normally Diagon Alley is an exciting place to visit but for two children on their own and visiting for the first time during the busiest time of year, well. Things can get a bit confusing.

Read it on AO3

There was very little Ambrose had enjoyed about his journey to Hogwarts the previous year. But he had a feeling that he should be glad he skipped on visiting Diagon Alley. The place seemed lively and warm and like it should be quite fun, if only you weren't two children sentenced to navigate it on your own your first time being there.

"Ambrose!" Cas exclaimed and Ambrose felt a sharp pain in his ankle.

"Ow! Did you just kick me?" Ambrose complained.

"Yes, I did, because you've been too busy worrying to actually walk," Cas said.

"Alright, alright, you grindylow, let's go," Ambrose rolled his eyes. 

He double checked his wand was still in his very rushed bun then set off down the alley. He made sure to hold onto Cas with one hand, so as to not lose the much much shorter boy in the late summer crowd. It seemed every Hogwarts student and their mothers were in Diagon Alley that day. To be fair, Ambrose and Cas were doing their shopping rather late too. Term started in a week after all, but it took Ambrose this long to arrange for his parents to actually get them to Diagon Alley. He just hoped that certain…legal matter had been settled.

They got to Gringotts and thankfully they were escorted right back to Professor Fig's vault. Well, not quite thankfully. While he was of course thankful to his mentor for leaving him the money in his vault, he much preferred having the man alive and well. Still, he got the money he thought he'd need for his and Cas's supplies and left the rest in Fig's vault. Or, he supposed it was his vault now.

Now to figure out where the hell he was going. Gringotts was damn easy to find but he didn't even know what shops he was looking for, much less where they were. 

"Okay I do know there's an Ollivander's somewhere around here," Ambrose said but he was pretty much thinking aloud. "So let's start with your wand and see what other stores we spot looking for it, alright?"

"FUCK YEAH!"

"Oh I am going to regret this," Ambrose chuckled. 

The pair trotted off down the street, more wandering than anything. han anything. The leather pouch full of coins felt like it was burning a hole in his pocket, right along with the two supply lists. At least he only had to buy books for himself, though he did need some new quills. Cas needed a uniform, his books, a wand, cauldron, telescope, scales, parchment, quills…it was fine. Ambrose could pull this off. God the Wizarding World was hard enough to get used to when he only had to worry about himself. He missed his field guide. 

“Oh finally,” Ambrose sighed in relief. “Ollivander’s.” 

Ambrose steered them into the shop and rang the bell. He heard a noise from above and looked up to see Anton Ollivander leaning precariously over the balcony railing towards one of the shelves.

“I’ll be down in just one mome-” Mr Ollivander began. But a wand box fell from the shelf and hit the ground, opening the box and setting off the wand which of course fired some sort of magic right at the balcony railing turning it into something that looked suspiciously like chalk. It crumbled beneath Mr. Ollivander’s weight and Ambrose barely saw the chalk crack before he whipped out his wand.

“Wingardium Leviosa!” Ambrose cried, catching the wandmaker in mid air. He carefully lowered Mr. Ollivander to the ground. Then he switched gears, casting reparo on the railing and following it up with a quick alteration spell, turning it back into wood. 

"That was terribly embarassing, wasn't it?" Mr. Ollivander laughed. "Grovend Ollivander, now at your service."

Mr. Ollivander's gaze drifted to Ambrose's wand as he stuck it back in his bun.

"How strange," Mr. Ollivander hummed. "I don't seem to remember your wand. Or you."

"I got it at the Ollivanders in Hogsmeade," Ambrose said. "I started Hogwarts as a 5th and couldn't get to Diagon Alley because my, my professor was helping me catch up. Then on the way to Hogwarts there was an incident with a dragon...it's a long story. It's uh, Aspen wood and a Phoenix feather."

"My my, that is quite the powerful wand," Mr. Ollivander nodded. "You must be a force to be reckoned with. However if you already have one, I assume the wand you are here to find is for this young man?"

"Yes sir," Everett said. He was already grinning ear to ear and Ambrose could tell he'd be shaking his hands if they weren't clenched into fists.

"Then let us begin our search!" Mr. Ollivander clapped.

He moved to the shelves and shelves stuffed to the brim with wand boxes, Everett right on his heels. Ollivander hummed as he scanned the boxes. There were multiple times we're he reached for one only to shake his head at the last second. After at least a full minute he finally pulled a box off the shelf and offered it to Everett.

"Pine wood and unicorn hair," Ollivander said. "Let's try this, shall we?"

Everett took the wand and glanced at Ambrose.

"Flick it," Ambrose chuckled.

Everett flicked the wand and the entire thing erupted in angry red flames. Everett shrieked and dropped it. Ambrose immediately rushed to his side, grabbing his hands to inspect them for burns. Thankfully he found nothing. A sigh of relief left him and he quickly kissed Everett's forehead, more for his own reassurance honestly.

"Aquamenti!" Ollivander exclaimed, putting out the wand with a gush of water. Somehow the thing remained completely unscorched. He picked it up by the tip with two fingers like he was worried it would ignite again. No more flames showed up so he put it back in the box and put it on a shelf as far from Everett as he could.

"Not that one," Ollivander told them, like that wasn't obvious. He knew it wasn't the old man's fault but Ambrose still felt the urge to smack him upside the head with a wand box.

Ollivander checked the shelves again, this time grabbing a box and just handing the whole thing to Everett.

"Try that one," Ollivander said. "Larch wood and phoenix feather, quite versatile."

Ambrose also took a step to the side just to be safe.

"And this one won't set on fire?" Everett checked.

"The chances of it doing so are miniscule I assure you," Ollivander claimed. "Even if it is an I'll match, the likelihood of two wands having the same negative reaction are infinitesimal."

Everett went to flick the wand but before he could even bring it down, the thing shot out of his hand towards the ceiling before falling back down.

"At least nothing is on fire?" Ambrose offered.

"Shush," Everett waved him off. He carefully put the wand in the box and handed the box back to Ollivander.

In return Ollivander handed him a third box. Just like the last two this one (Willow and dragon heartstring) rejected him. Everett was starting to look more and more rejected as they went through another two wands, meaning he'd tried five wands with horrible reactions each time.

"Is it possible for a wizard to have no wand match?" Everett wondered, barely hiding the light quiver in his voice.

"It's never happened before," Ollivander replied. "Yet we are running out...oh!"

Ollivander rushed to the back and came back with a wand that didn't even have a box. It was a bit paler than Ambrose's wand, but not quite white. It had rings leading up to the hand, which turned into a crooked swirl of light and dark brown.

"This is a Dogwood wand with an...experimental core," Ollivander told them. "I've long believed there were other possibilities for cores beyond the three wandmakers have become comfortable with. I was experimenting with this one. I only just finished it this morning. It's core is made from the ash of an ashwinder."

Everett stepped forward with an almost glazed look in his eyes. He took the wand with a severance and care Ambrose had never seen before. This time when he swished it a beautiful stream of lights explodes from the tip, dancing around the shop in every color Ambrose could imagine, and even some he couldn't.

"The perfect match," Ollivander was grinning like a kid on Christmas, which was a rather odd look on such an aged man. "Take it, on me. Consider it thanks for proving my theory correct."

"Thank you so much, Mr. Ollivander," Ambrose said.

"I'll put it to good use," Everett promised. He was practically vibrating in pure joy, bouncing on his toes and vigorously shaking the hand that wasn't clutching his wand.

"Come on little firefly," Ambrose laughed, wrapping his arm around Everett's shoulders to steer him out of the shop before his excitement lit something else on fire. "I take it you like it?"

"It's a magic fucking wand Ambrose!" Everett giggled. "Yes I like it! And I used it! Because I'm a freaking wizard!"

"Yeah you are," Ambrose ruffled Everett's hair only to get shrieked at. "What do you think, books next?"

"Ambrose?"

Ambrose stopped mid step, immediately searching the crowds for that oh so welcome and oh so familiar voice. Within moments Sebastian appeared in front of them and Ambrose didn't hesitated to drag him into his arms. Just having Sebastian close melted all the tension from his system. All his worries about the crowds, the money, and his parents just faded away. It was the first time he'd felt a feeling of home since the term ended.

"Merlin I've missed you," Sebastian murmured into Ambrose's shoulder. "Have you been okay? It hasn't been too bad, has it?"

"I told you I'd send you an owl if it was," Ambrose reminded him, still not surfacing from Sebastian's hair.

"I also know your definition of bad is much lower than it should be," Sebastian pointed out. Ambrose finally pulled back to cup Sebastian's face in his hands, tilting it back and forth to look him over. As hard as he'd tried, he hadn't been able to find a way for Sebastian to stay with him over the summer. "I'm fine, Rose."

"Quiet you," Ambrose shushed him. Eventually he was satisfied and let his hands drop to Sebastian's shoulders as Sebastians arms were still around his waist.

"Like I said, I'm fine," Sebastian swore. "I've been working and staying at the Leaky Cauldron to have a roof over my head. Got just enough extra money for my supplies this year."

"Okay good, I'm glad!"

"Hi there!" Everett chirped from behind him.

"Fuck," Ambrose muttered and stepped to the side, but Sebastian still kept an arm around his waist. "This is Everett."

"Your brother?" Sebastian's eyebrows shot up and almost disappeared into his bangs.

"Yeah, him," Ambrose nodded. "Ev, this is my boyfriend-"

"Ominis or Sebastian?" Everett cut him off, eyes now narrowed. Was he threatening? How was he threatening?

"Sebastian," Sebastian answered with a chuckle.

Everett's eyes narrowed further and before Ambrose realized what he was doing, the hem of Sebastian's robes was engulfed in flame.

"Ow!" Sebastian cried as he threw his robes onto the ground to escape the flames.

"Everett!" Ambrose scolded. But Everett just stood there glaring at Sebastian with his arms crossed, four feet and nine inches of 11 year old rage.

"Don't call my brother ignorant," Everett warned.

"Trust me I have apologized for that at length," Sebastian swore. "Multiple times."

Everett glanced at Ambrose who nodded, and suddenly Everett was his normal lighthearted self, holding his hand out for Sebastian to shake.

"Nice to meet you then," Everett grinned. Sebastian hesitantly shook his hand. "You know Diagon Alley?"

"Pretty well, if I say so myself," Sebastian said.

"Good because Ambrose is lost," Everet informed him.

"I am not lost," Ambrose protested. "I just...haven't found everything yet."

"We only have my wand."

"Don't make me hold on to it until next week."

"You suck."

Ambrose sighed, trying to ignore Sebastian snickering next to him.

"Fine, I guess some help would be appreciated," Ambrose admitted.

"Time for a proper Diagon Alley welcome," Sebastian teased. Ambrose rolled his eyes, despite the smile on his face. "This term is going to be fun."

[anghraine]

Fic author interview (meme)

I was tagged by @incognitajones! Thank you very much <3

1- How many works do you have on AO3?

222, though some are very closely interconnected.

2- What's your total AO3 word count?

1,193,545, says the AO3 statistics page!

o_O

3- What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

LOL, I had just automatically rearranged my stats graph to rank fics by kudos instead of hits. It's:

Season of Courtship (inevitably), a Darcy/Elizabeth canon-compliant engagement interquel I wrote as a teenager;

But Thou Didst Not Leave His Soul In Hell (always a pleasant surprise), a short AU in which Luke convinces Anakin/Vader to flee the Empire with him;

per ardua ad astra, a Rogue One+ANH Jyn/Cassian AU in which Jyn, Cassian, and Bodhi escape Scarif only to get trapped on the Death Star and forced to pass themselves off as Imperials;

we get dark, only to shine, a longggg yet unfinished AU of The Borgias in which Cesare and Lucrezia begin their affair during S1 instead of S3 (CW for canon sibling incest, murder, etc).

Contradictions and Varieties (baffling), a short Darcy/Elizabeth AU I wrote for a fest in which it takes them slightly longer to get together.

4- Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try, especially with fics I'm actively updating, but I'm always behind on it. I mostly just get distracted and forget.

5- What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

Oh, interesting question! I don't write a lot of angsty endings, but there are a few options, and I think it probably would have to be the gift of men, a short (~1k) Fourth Age fic in which Eldarion goes along with a politically convenient marriage to one of Faramir and Éowyn's daughters, and falls in love with her, only for her to die of old age while Aragorn and Faramir are still alive and Eldarion remains young.

Honorable mentions: Set On This Path (Luke and Leia are brought up in the Empire + fusion with the story of the bloodbending brothers in B1 of Legend of Korra, complete with murder-suicide) and the last day (a chirpy epistolary fic that takes an abrupt turn after the genocidal attack that begins the Guild Wars games).

6- What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

Um, just considering the ones that have endings, to be fair, and ... hmm, that's harder. A lot of happy endings! Probably the ones that are happiest for me, personally, are First Impressions (m!Elizabeth/f!Darcy re-telling of P&P) and whatever we deny or embrace (f!Cassian/Jyn).

7- Do you write crossovers?

Not often, but sometimes! Like now.

8- Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Yes! I've gotten hate more than once wrt Season of Courtship in various versions (even before it become so overwhelmingly the popular favorite of my fics). The rest has been on other fics and mostly on ff.net.

TBH the subtler stuff bothers me more than outright hate (corrections based on adaptations or fanon or expanded universe material I already said I wasn't using, concern that I might switch permanently to a new format I'm trying out, etc).

9- Do you write smut?

Very rarely. I respect people who can write good smut (hi incognita!), but I'm definitely a fade to black sort unless the ship is already so out there that I'm long past feeling self-conscious about it.

10- Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yes. It's happened a couple of times, but the main one was someone who stole a few Austen fics from various people and tried to piece them together into something they could sell on Amazon. One of the fics was The Rich Are Always Respectable (not what I would choose to plagiarize if I were going to, but ... okay).

11- Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, several times. I think it's cool!

12- Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I wrote a short fic with my friend @tulinlina many years ago :)

13- What's your all-time favorite ship?

Darcy/Elizabeth. Truly this ship is the terror of the seas!

14- What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

Oh, man. This probably requires more self-knowledge than I really have. Um ... I hate saying it, but we get dark, only to shine is likely this. I had so many plans for where it was going to go, but I'm just in a very different fannish place these days.

15- What are your writing strengths?

It feels weird to say, but I think I write solid dialogue (it's certainly my favorite thing to write!) and fairly clean prose in general.

16- What are your writing weaknesses?

Description is my truest nemesis—I tend to place scenes in just empty or vaguely described space. Fight scenes and that sort of thing are really difficult (for related reasons). Finishing things—my stuff nearly always grows out of control and it screws up pacing and so on.

17- What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

A little goes a long way, IMO. I did a bit of it in my fic about Leia and Cassian and Alderaanian, in tongues and quiet sighs, so I can't judge it too hard, but it's very much something to handle with care (especially with conlangs—Tolkien fic can be pretty grating this way).

18- What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Tolkien! My first attempt at a fic was a Faramir-goes-to-Rivendell-instead-of-Boromir AU that never got very far.

Well, my first serious attempt at fanfic, that is—I wrote original stuff for years before that, and I guess technically I tried to write Trixie Belden fanfic when I was about 10 ... and the original stuff spun off from a piece that was basically a Secret of Mana fanfic I wrote even before the Trixie Belden stuff. But in terms of something written within a fandom community, the Faramir fic.

19- What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

Hmm. I'm not sure, actually. I mostly just write stuff if I feel like it. Oh—it's cheating, but I've barely written Korra/Kuvira even though I adore the ship. I'd like to write a proper Korvira fic someday.

20- What's your favorite fic you've written?

This changes pretty often, though there are always a few that come up when I'm asked. At this moment in time, probably The Jedi and the Sith Lord, the third (sort of) of my f!Luke Skywalker fics, and the one where the story finally swerves off the canon tracks and becomes its own thing. Maybe (probably?) not my best work, but the Lucyverse is my baby and I think TJATSL is my best work in it.

Tagging: @elwing, @kareenvorbarra, @heckofabecca, @veliseraptor, @rain-sleet-snow