#crackfic fix it au

[lya-dustin]

A Comedy of Non-mathematical Errors

Chapter 1

No matter how he tries, he cannot get Oliver to make an introduction.

In fact, Michael had already left the King's Arms when Felix spotted Oliver.

“Rather liked his shirt, the pun's fucking hilarious, tell him I said so.” Felix said when he and Oliver went back to his place since Oliver was too hammered to leave.

“I’ll tell him.” Oliver promised and never did.

Despite Felix’s attempts to get Michael to speak to him, all that happens is that he learns his brother hates him.

Like hate hates him.

“He thinks you are a vapid cunt who doesn’t even know how to read.” Oliver puts it plainly after his last attempt before finals ends in abject failure.

Felix is hurt by that, especially because he had hoped everyone was exaggerating about it.

So hurt he doesn’t go out drinking with Farleigh, Annabel, and India.

So hurt he studies all night for his final exam.

It is strangely rewarding to earn something on his own. So rewarding he cannot stop himself from cornering Michael to show him.

“What makes you think I care about your fucking score?” Michael asks angrily and confused. “Daddy’s money bought you the school either way.”

“I studied; I worked my ass off to get this score. Just because I like fun and aren’t a maths genius like you and dad, it doesn’t mean I’m a dumb ass, Michael Cherwell Catton.” Felix has never bothered to defend himself like this, but he is about to change this nerd’s life.

“My name is Michael Gavey. Catton is your last name, genius.” Michael may hate him more when he tells him he is his brother, not just a brother, but twin brother.

“About that, Mrs. Gavey isn’t your real mum. Your middle name is Cherwell because mine is River, and you were kidnapped as a baby by our nanny.” Felix knows it sounds fucking ridiculous and has said long lost brother tell him so saying he should lay off the drugs.

“Stay away from me, Catton.” The blond warns, shoving him away, but Felix knows he can’t, not if they want to confirm or deny his suspicions.

“Let’s make a deal, we take a DNA test. If I’m wrong, we’ll never even breathe in the same room again, but if I’m right I’m taking you to Saltburn where you belong.” Felix offers his hand and spits on his palm as he presents his deal.

“Fine, I’ll do it, but you’re paying for this bullshit. Catton.” Michael squared up as if he were more than just the creepy nerd everyone knew him as.

“We have a deal.” Felix continues to offer his hand to make it binding, but his brother refuses to shake it.

Fucking unsanitary, he said.

Felix is so excited he can’t help but he calls his mother to tell her after he drags Michael to the nearest lab and gets tested.

Two days later everyone including the butler and poor dear Pamela is there waiting with bated breath as Michael opens the test results.

Michael Cherwell Gavey is Michael Cherwell Catton, the baby boy that was kidnapped ---and declared dead--- twenty years ago today.

Mama is crying, dad excited knowing the family is saved from ruin, Venetia is cautious, Farleigh pretends he didn’t torment him during the past year and Felix is so happy his hunch was right he completely forgot to even tell Oliver when he called him to cancel their plans for tonight this morning.

“You must come live with us; we must make up for the twenty years you spent away from us.” His mother held Michael’s hands as she kept the affection to a minimum, sensing he was uncomfortable with it.

Michael, still stunned, accepts only because no one can say no to mum.

“You are going to love Saltburn, Mickey.”

Michael had the occasional fantasy of meeting his father as all fatherless children do, but he never thought he would end up being a completely different person related to Felix fucking Catton.

Even worse, his twin fucking brother.

There is no logical explanation for this. Sure, babies get kidnapped at an alarming rate, but how did he manage to escape the radar when his name is the same his parents gave him.

Sweet baby Jesus, did he overdo it with the beer last night?

He can’t recall having more than a pint, but a fucked-up drink from overdrinking made more sense than this.

And yet the tests didn’t lie, science much like math couldn’t lie.

“A friend of Felix’s is coming to stay with us, I think Felix said he was a friend of yours too.” Elspeth Catton is nice, if a bit snobbish, and after accepting her invitation to their estate, took him shopping for a proper wardrobe.

While she did like his math pun shirts, Elspeth said she detested ugliness and her children were not ugly, just a healthy amount of strange.

“He was, or never was a friend of mine. Oliver Quick licks too many boots for my tastes.” Michael admits and while he dreads having to see him again ---worse endure Felix and Farleigh’s vapidness all summer--- the maths genius has always wanted his pound of flesh.

Now that he has everything Felix has and some more, he was going to make Oliver fucking Quick regret tossing aside for Felix.

“I suppose his harsh life made him that way, Felix told me he lost his father recently and his situation at home is less than ideal.” The blonde woman said with pity, as if being middle class and having two parents and two sisters was such a burden.

The dead father he believes it, Michael had not spoken to him since he confronted him at the library, but there is no fucking way Oliver has known actual suffering.

“Perhaps the summer may have us all three be friends.” Or the worst of enemies.

Nothing would kill Oliver like having Felix replace him with Michael. After all what is a friend to your own fucking brother?

[missmagooglie]

Concept: A canon rewrite where Eddie Diaz figures out he's gay before he moves to LA and spends the entire series from "Stuck" onward as an out gay character.... and somehow it STILL takes Buck until season 7 to figure out he's bisexual, and well into season 8 or 9 for Buddie to actually get together.

Buddie endgame, but it is the slowest and most frustrating slowburn ever to grace television.

Buck keeps aaaaaaalmost figuring it out, and then swerving into some heteronormative nonsensense the last moment.

Eddie still has the most complicated relationship with his sexuality imaginable - to the point where he STILL gets back together with Shannon in S2 despite knowing he's gay (but she was his first love and she's the mother of his child and being out is scary even when you have supportive new coworkers and anyway don't they owe it to Christopher to try to make it work etc etc).

The only changes to canon relationships are that Ana and Marisol are swapped out for guys, but their relationships have all the same problems. Eddie is still walking the same tightrope of expectations around masculinity where he feels obligated to meet certain requirements of "manhood" while also trying to protect Christopher from feeling those same expectations. He has the same issues in relationships where he rushes in too quickly then regrets it and doesn't know how to back out gracefully.

Buck and Eddie still have their infuriating pattern of being single at the same time and then decided to date as soon as the other person starts a new relationship. Neither of them consciously realize they are in love with each other. Tommy still starts off pursuing Eddie, only to be decisively friendzoned which is fine because Eddie's a good guy to have as a friend, then ends up kissing Buck into a bisexual awakening. Buck is still just as awkward about coming out to Eddie - but only to Eddie, for everyone else it is almost aggressively not a big deal.

So Buck dates Tommy, and Eddie's too busy trying to shove himself back into the closet for a doppelganger of his dead wife to have any feelings about Buck dating a man who isn't him.

In summary: Eddie being introduced as a gay character *should* have made Buddie simpler in theory, but it plays out as an even bigger mess than in canon.

[almostempty]

Never made it as a wise man

(joel miller x f!reader)

Description: Joel solves your car troubles for free, and you try to return the favor with a homecooked meal. When you accidentally interrupt his jerkoff session, you take a chance and help him out.

Note: y’all are out here answering god’s toughest questions, like what if emotionally unavailable Joel was loved unconditionally? or what if Joel was the Mothman?, and I deeply appreciate that. 

However, today, I am here to answer a question that nobody asked– What if Joel was a divorced dad rock kinda guy? 

You know, like, listening to Nickelback on an old-school boombox in his garage, or unironically singing Creed on the way to work, or bonding with Ellie over Papa Roach? And also, (inspired by a genius) what if he was a little bit pathetic? 

Anyway, I present to you: divorced dad rock dilf, Joel, ta-da! (my humble submission for @hellishjoel‘s hot dilf summer challenge) obvs dedicated to: @auteurdelabre

ao3: read here | masterlist: here | part 2 here | part 3 here

Tags/warnings: AU no outbreak divorced Joel x f!reader, Sarah is not mentioned, but Ellie is your adult coworker, reader is clueless about cars and so am I, gratuitous smut and horny thoughts, implied jorkin’ joel but no witnesses, hand job, fingering, premature ejaculation, touch starved kinda loserish but hot divorced dilf joel, he’s a real tiddy guy in this one and idk why it just happened, pwp, is it a crackfic? maybe, but i meant it wholeheartedly so idk  

WC: 4.2k

You pull onto the long driveway, hoping to see Joel’s truck. You forgot to text first to see if he would be around, but he did tell you to come by if you ever needed anything. You mostly just hope he’ll be willing to accept your gift. 

Last week, he’d helped you out by fixing your car. He told you what the issue was, but he might as well have been speaking another language when he described it. You had already brought coffee and a plate of cookies to your coworker Ellie to thank her for dragging you to Joel’s to ask for help. Being in a new town was hard enough, but you had no idea how you would handle the price for diagnostics, let alone whatever the repair would’ve cost. You tried to offer Joel the cash you had as a thanks, but he wouldn’t accept it. You tried to argue with him, but Ellie told you it wasn’t worth arguing with him. He wouldn’t budge. Instead, he had offered to change your oil for you, making you feel even more indebted to him. 

At first, the most you got out of Ellie for intel on Joel was that he was the one responsible for you having to listen to “One Last Breath” and “Lips of an Angel” at ungodly early hours. Ellie claimed that her music taste was deeply influenced by Joel, and somehow, Ellie is always in charge of the music at work. When you rolled your eyes calling it divorced dad rock, she let it slip that you were right about that. 

That explains a lot when you remember the brief time you spent in his house and shop. The house was clean inside but not tidy. Stray beer bottles and travel mugs dotted the counter and coffee table. But the shop had all the Divorced Dad Barbie accessories. 

The project car and crates of assorted parts. The beer fridge and the plastic lawn chairs in the corner for bullshitting with whoever stopped by. The boombox on the workbench with the stack of CDs. And the fading calendar from another decade with the naked woman kneeling on the beach. 

You hadn’t been able to stop your eyes from darting to her sultry expression and swimsuit model-perfect breasts when Joel had been explaining what he was going to do to your car. You wondered if the heat burning in your cheeks had given you away, but he didn’t notice then. Ellie sure did, though, and she had rolled her eyes at you, noting it had been up so long she even forgot it was there. 

Luckily, Ellie didn’t notice your eyes lingering on Joel’s body. You weren’t trying to be a creep, but the way his arm flexed when he opened the hood of your car gave you some feral brand of intrusive thoughts. The ratty band t-shirt and the faded jeans were working for him, too, or at least they were doing something for you. Time slowed when your eyes trailed over his arms and down the muscles of his broad back. He just seemed so… solid. You finally understood what your friends back home meant when they said they wanted to climb a man like a tree. You had jumped a little when Ellie slammed the fridge behind you and shouted at Joel about how he can’t just live in the shop drinking shitty beer and eating beef jerky. She had grabbed your arm to drag you to the house for an iced tea while he worked. 

Her comment sparked your idea. You figured Joel must be a utilitarian type. He probably lives on frozen pizzas–or even worse, those Hungry-Man frozen TV dinners–instead of making himself something fresh. Maybe he’s one of those guys who got really into smoking meats instead. Either way, you hope the lasagna you made from scratch and the other tray of cookies will be an acceptable thank you for his help. He can’t refuse it if you already made it, right? 

You pull up next to a truck, assuming it’s his, and that he’s home. Before you grab the tray, you pause to check your reflection and adjust your breasts in your white tank top, making sure your cleavage pokes out as temptingly as possible. 

You check yourself in the mirror with a look. Why does it matter what you look like? It’s not like you’re trying to fuck your only (almost) friend’s dad, right? Although she calls him by his first name, not Dad, so maybe there’s like a loophole or something if she’s adopted. You think about the calendar model and her perfect tits hanging on the wall over his tools. It can’t hurt to just do a little harmless flirting, right? Maybe you aren’t even his type anyway. 

After knocking on the door a couple of times, you frown, wondering if he’s not home. On the way back to your car, with your head hung in defeat, your ears perk up at the sound of something clanging in the shop. Of course! 

You skitter back to the front porch to leave your goods by the door and head for the shop to find that divorced DILF–Joel, you mean. It’s sweltering out, and sweat is beading on your chest after only a few minutes in the heat. The closer you get, the more easily you can make out the sound of his little CD player blasting another brooding, raspy ballad sung by a white man with a troubled love life. 

The garage door is shut, so you knock on the door on the side of the building. You wait a minute before testing your luck and opening the door yourself. Assessing the shop, you don’t see your man, sorry, Joel, at first glance. The music blasts, and the calendar model gives you the same impish smirk through her false lashes and a layer of dust, but there’s no Joel. The evidence clearly dictates that he’s in here somewhere, as his tools are strung around his project, the lights are on, and a beer with a sweating label sits on the edge of the workbench. 

You aren’t trying to be sneaky. You didn’t think to holler and announce your presence over the music. Plus, you didn’t fully get your bearings the last time you were here. Now, you can pick up a few more details as your eyes absorb everything they can about anything that gives you a hint about who this guy is. 

The guy that’s been haunting your dreams for a week. Last week, when you walked back to the shop with Ellie to check on your car, you nearly tripped, watching Joel wipe the sweat off his face with the bottom of his shirt. You had just caught a glimpse of the trail of hair disappearing under his jeans, but it was enough to replay in your mind every night as you created your little scenarios to carry you off to sleep. 

The scent memory was somehow worse. It was so easy to transport yourself back in time with the thought of the sweaty musk and the grease or oil smeared on his fingers. It shouldn’t turn you on, right? 

You remember thinking he seemed so knowledgeable when describing the issue. You had no idea what he was talking about, but his low voice and patience were enough to tell you he could talk you through anything. 

You notice a few other details as you enter his sacred space today. The woodworking projects, the band posters, and the pictures with Ellie and other family members tacked to the wall over another workbench. 

Still, no Joel, however. 

You circle the partially disassembled project truck and see a door to another room. It would be the office if the shop were a professional business. There’s a window along the wall, but instead of a boss watching an employee, it’s you hoping to see that brawny man and his dark curls. 

As you step closer, you nearly squeal. There he is. Well, at least, you can see the broad shoulders and back you’ve been picturing above you in bed. You practically skip to the door. It’s already open a crack, and you give it a knock, calling his name as it swings open from the force of your rapping knuckles.   

The next moment is a blur. 

“Shit, fuck, hold on!” Joel shouts gruffly as he slams the door in your face. But you already heard it. The phony wailing noises that came from the busted speaker on his phone. 

You still face the closed door, trying to process the interaction before he wrenches the door back open. He’s breathing rapidly, chest rising and falling, as he looks at you with wide eyes that quickly narrow. 

“What are you doing here?” he barks. 

Your hands fall to your sides, and you start to step back, ready to turn and run. 

He catches your fear and tries to adjust, but you’re faster. 

“Sorry,” you mumble as you turn and try to dash away. Joel’s quick, too, though, and he grabs your wrist. 

“Hey, wait,” he loosens his grip when you spin back towards him, “I just didn’t hear you comin’. Wasn’t expecting you.” 

“Sorry,” you repeat, stuttering as you continue, “I-I just, uh, just wanted to say thanks for your help last week.” You stare at the floor. Unsure why you’re embarrassed, you feel so small after he saw your face and practically shouted at you. 

“All right,” he rumbles. You’re too busy staring at the crack in the concrete floor to notice how his eyes are glued to your exposed skin. Or to see the blotchy red flush that crawls up his neck and toward his face. 

But your brain starts to catch up. Joel might’ve snapped at you, but you’re the one that caught him in the act. You don’t lift your head, but your eyes trail over his stained and faded jeans until you’re studying his crotch. 

Bingo. It’s almost too easy. You can make out the outline of his erection tucked up in his waistband. Even more glaring evidence is the open fly. You wish you had caught what he was watching. How does he like it? What does he search for when he wants to jerk off in the back office on a hot Saturday afternoon? 

He clears his throat, and you snap your attention to his face. “Was there somethin’ you needed?” He asks. 

“Yes.” You tell him you’ve got a lasagna that should get into a fridge before it reheats in the sun. He follows you toward the front door and into the house, not missing how your hips sway as you lead. 

Once the tray is shoved into the fridge, nestled between some takeout containers, he turns to thank you. “You didn’t need to do all that,” he gruffs over the cookies and homemade meal. 

You step back to lean against the counter, littered with mail and more coffee cups, and let yourself check him out up close. His faded Creed t-shirt has holes around the neck. He’s got that same sweaty man musk going on, and you wish you knew why that stirred your arousal, but your pussy lacks logic. 

“I know, I know,” you reply, “but you really saved my ass with the car, and I wanted to do something for you. You know, some way to pay you back?” 

“All right, well, thanks,” he trails off. He doesn’t seem to know what else to say. Maybe you should be on your way already, but he’s not ushering you out the door. 

This time, you do catch when his eyes drop to your chest. There’s no way you’re imagining the tension between you as you stand in his kitchen while he stares at your barely clothed tits, right? Fuck it. You’re gonna go for it. 

You take a step towards him. “I wasn’t sure if it was really enough,” your voice is soft and tempting, and your sweet perfume wafts towards him like a lust potion. Joel swallows thickly as you approach.

He knows you must’ve put it together, but he tried to delude himself. Maybe you couldn’t hear the theatrical screams of the woman he was watching get railed before he slammed the door in your face. He hopes all you heard was Chad Kroeger’s voice screaming, “This time I'm mistaken

For handin' you a heart worth breakin'” from the stereo.. on the other side of the shop. 

“You worked so hard,” you continued with one final step, and now you’re nearly toe-to-toe in front of him. “There has to be something else I could do.” You’re so close to him. He forgets to respond. It takes all his power to keep his eyes on your face. 

You have a wild urge to taste the sweat on his neck, but you keep your tongue to yourself. He hasn’t made any move to encourage you, but he hasn’t stopped you yet either, so you figure it’s worth taking a risk. 

“Maybe you’ve got a problem I could help you with.” You go for it, reaching your hand out to palm at the bulge in his jeans. 

Again, too many things happen at once. Joel snaps out a “What?” in disbelief. His hand circles your wrist tightly. His hips jerk, involuntarily bucking into your palm. Your glossy lips part into an “o” shape at the size of his not-quite-hard cock. And now you’re both locked into this position like statues. 

His fingers stay firmly wrapped around your wrist, but he doesn’t pull you away. Your fingers squeeze over his jeans, and your eyes flash wide as you can feel his cock twitch and stiffen at your touch. The touch that rapidly overrides your better judgment, drowning you in want. Your clit twitches itself in response, your nipples strain under your thin tank top, and your eyelids feel heavy immediately. 

“What are you doing?” His voice crackles like he hadn’t just used it. You slide your hand to pop the button on his jeans, and he releases your wrist as you flip it to slip your fingers under the waistband of his boxers in search of his cock. 

“Let me help,” you say in more of a whispered tone. The searing heat between Joel’s legs makes you salivate. Your fingers graze coarse curls before you acquire your target, wrapping your palm and fingers around his thick shaft. His size has your cunt throbbing in your shorts. 

Joel’s eyes are squeezed shut. He looks nearly in pain. You pull your hand back out to let the pool of saliva on your tongue drip into your palm. 

“Jesus,” he breathes out, watching your lewd maneuver. “You wanna help?” He repeats your plea in the form of a question, a little dumbfounded. He’s trying to figure out what’s happening right now. 

“I do,” you answer in a honeyed voice as you dig your hand back into his pants. He’s unable to respond with words as you swirl your palm over the head of his cock, mixing saliva and precome, but his body eggs you on. He bucks into your fist, and you work quickly, pumping his throbbing length. The slick noises are muffled by the layers of clothing, but the grunts that catch in his throat shoot piping-hot desire straight into your core. 

He looks a little desperate, eyes slammed shut again, jaw slack, arms hanging uselessly at his side. And for god knows why, the entire scene pulls a moan from your lips. The sweet sound snaps Joel back to attention. His hands shoot straight to your breasts, cupping them gently to feel them bounce against the motion of your arm wrestling with his jeans to keep stroking his cock. 

They’re so close to spilling over your tank top on their own. Joel can’t resist tugging the thin material until they spill over the top. The sight alone nearly has him coming in his pants. But then you moan so loudly when he squeezes them both and pinches at your nipples, and he really can’t stop. 

“Fuck, fuck, wait,” he spits out, but it’s too late. His hips jerk erratically, thrusting into your slick fist, and he’s coming. It coats your hand and wrist and makes an absolute mess.  You relax your grip when his whole body seems to shudder and gently remove your hand. He tries to choke his groan of frustration before it surfaces, but he immediately pauses his shame spiral when he sees you suck your come-coated fingers one by one. 

“God, that’s so fucking hot,” you tell him. At the same time, he’s muttering curses at the sight of you. You’re feeling a little giddy that all it took was your hand and showing your tits to have Joel losing control and spilling his load for you. It has your mouth curling into an impish grin. 

He’s got the sight of you half topless in his kitchen, licking your fingers, looking awfully proud of yourself, etching into his memory. Before the blood can return to his brain, he grabs you tightly by the ribs and walks you backward towards the counter. He lifts you onto it and wrenches open your shorts, yanking at them as you lift your hips so he can slide them off of you and drop them onto the kitchen floor. 

Yes! Yes! Yes! The horny little goblins in your brain shriek and chant, incited by the rough and impulsive way Joel gropes at you. It’s barbaric, and that delights you. 

Sitting on the counter, you give him such perfect access to put his mouth on your breasts that he forgets what he was going to say. He mouths at each of them wetly, his beard tickling you as he’s busy sucking marks into your delicate skin. He sucks and bites at your strained nipples until your loud whines turn into a sharp gasp, and he pulls back. 

The heavy-lidded look on your face has him diving back in for more, and you groan and arch into his touch. You rake your fingers into the curls at the back of his neck and tug at him. He grunts and moans into your skin, and it drives you wild. You need to feel him closer. 

You grab the worn cotton on his shoulders until he lets you slip the shirt over his head and drop it onto the counter next to you. It gives you the briefest moment to take in the sight of his built chest and shoulders and softer midsection with that trail of hair you had memorized. You need to taste the salt on his skin. 

Spreading your legs wider, he slots his hips against yours at the edge of the counter, and you run your tongue along his neck. You slide one of your hands down the smooth golden skin of his shoulder, and the other nestles back in his messy curls as his mouth finds yours. 

He tastes like cheap coffee and the peppermint nicotine gum parked above his teeth along the left side of his mouth. You know it’s wrong that you can’t get enough. But you're helpless when he pulls your bottom lip between his teeth, and you mindlessly roll your hips, seeking any relief. 

He’s grumbling in your ear about how it seems like you need help now, but you couldn’t care less about the words coming out of his mouth. His deep voice alone could get you off. You let out an uninhibited whine at the thought. 

“Jesus Christ,” he pulls back. His head hangs, staring at the floor. He shakes it in what you assume is disbelief. You don’t want to wait for him to think any further. You grab his hand, pulling it between your legs.

“Really, fucking, hot.” You echo your earlier declaration. Doing your best to sound assertive. You figure at least your soaked panties will prove your point. 

“Fuck,” he stifles a groan. You’re so wet it coats his fingertips through the thin material. He nudges his fingers into you, over your panties, and you whimper for him. The fabric sticks to you and makes an obscene sound as he toys with you for only seconds. “Oh, you do need my help. Hm?” 

You nod, spreading your legs wider for Joel to have access. He scoffs at you, displayed eagerly atop his kitchen counter. “Just desperate for me, aren’t ya?”

You snap your legs back shut with a glare. 

“No way,” you press, jabbing a finger into his chest, “you don’t get to laugh at me like I’m a slut for you when you just came in your pants for me.” 

His nostrils flare, and blotchy red patches creep up his neck again. You aren’t sure what kind of bear you’ve just, quite literally, poked. 

“But you are, aren’t you?” He challenges. “You came all this way in this excuse for a shirt, just for me.” 

He wedges his hand back between your closed thighs, and you relax just enough to let him work his way back to your core. Your breathing gives you away when it hitches and stutters as he traces his fingers along the hem of the fabric between your legs. You let your legs fall a little wider apart, and he sinks a finger beneath the hem and right inside of you to the knuckle. 

A whiny noise rolls in the back of your throat. 

“Shh,” he sinks a second finger inside of you, and your muscles spasm and contract, “that’s better, hmm?” He slowly pulls his fingers almost all the way out and then plunges them back in. He repeats this, and your core tenses as you writhe for him. 

“You need more?” 

“Yes.” 

“Yeah, you do.” He adds a third finger, and the slight stretch makes you hum. 

“You just need to be filled up, hm?” He teases you. Awfully confident now for a guy you just caught watching porn on his phone in a grimy back office in the middle of the afternoon. 

But your noises and impatient movements spur him on. His sticky cock is filling out his jeans again. He nearly drools at the thought of the wet walls of your cunt, currently wrapped around his fingers, sliding over his cock instead. He knows you want it, too.

“Don’t you?” He asks like you could read his mind.

“Hm?” You hum absently. Empty headed. You’re still taken by the entire pulpy, messy scene. 

Reveling in the vulnerability of being spread open on his cluttered counter as you’re both half-dressed and panting in the other’s hot breath. Any semblance of the lightness of your mood is quickly replaced with a blinding need. His fingers work into you, making obscene sounds, and then you add your own fingers. Circling your swollen clit just as he lets you in on his vision. 

“You wanna bounce on my lap. Fill this pussy with my cock.” 

“Yes,” you hiss as you hover at the edge. 

“Yeah, that’s it,” he watches your fingers working deftly over your swollen clit. The encouragement tips you over. Your body jolts erratically as you contract around his fingers, and bright sparks of pleasure course through you. 

“Yeah, you’re gonna ride me like fuckin’ champ,” he decides. You pull at his wrist when you start to feel overwhelmed, and he slides his wet fingers over your soft inner thigh. He’s ready to grab you and carry you to the couch when both of your heads snap to attention at the sound of a door slamming in the driveway. 

“Shit,” he grumbles, looking for the clock on the stove before he remembers it’s definitely not set to the right time. You move nimbly, shimmying into your shorts, snapping your straps back over your shoulder, and brushing your hair out of your face. 

“Hey, wait,” he calls for you, but you’re on the move. 

“Let me know when I can pick up the baking dish,” you call over your shoulder. Luckily, Joel’s next guest seemed to know him better. They were off to search the shop first, so you didn’t collide with anyone before you got to your car. Joel stayed locked in the kitchen, catching his breath while you started to pull away. He didn’t see that you stole his dirty Creed shirt off the counter before you skipped out the door. 

When you grab it later to wear to bed, a naughty little smile tugs at the corners of your lips. When you pull the worn fabric to your nose to inhale deeply, you wonder if it’s one of those weird pheromone matches or something because you’re sure the sweaty man musk should be wrinkling your nose. 

Instead, it makes you think of his big arms and chest filling out the shirt. And how his shoulder and back muscles ripple under his sun-bronzed skin. What they’d look like coated in a sheen of salty sweat as he railed you, bent over his workbench, under the watchful eye of the calendar model and her flirty smize. 

The image has you interrupting your own scenarios-before-bed time. Maybe Joel needs a model from this decade. You giggle, bunching up the t-shirt to snap a tasteful shot of some underboob cleavage, with the faded Creed logo on full display. 

You send it off with no context, figuring it’s self-explanatory. It’s less than a minute before your phone buzzes, and you feel the intoxicating rush rip through your body before you pick it up to see just the heading on your lockscreen: 

Joel

Attachment 1 image

part 2 here | part 3 here

divider by @cyberangel-graphics

Please let me know if you enjoyed or hated this or a secret third thing (???) heheh

[just-some-random-blogger]

Accidental Targ

Scene II: he kinda looks like my ex boyfriend | Masterlist

Daemon Targaryen x Modern!Reader

Summary: After coming to terms with the fact you were in King's Landing some two thousand years before your birth, you get reunited with your friend and try to manifest your way back to the present. For the meantime, Harwin Strong is your bodyguard.

Word Count: 5k+

Warnings: fem!reader, time travel au, descriptions of reader's hair, incestuous gremlin!daemon, generally gross!daemon, harwin 'big daddy' strong, crackfic, typos, etc.

A/N: Following the events of our mighty poll 😁😁😁😁 im excited to say what won was was always my intention and im glad you lovely readers have synced with me on it BWHWAHA sorrows sorrows prayers

"Fucking Seven," I sigh and gather my thick skirts, running up to the blue haired girl. The servant who escorted her promptly curtsies then walks away. I release the fabrics to grasp her face. I sigh in relief, "thank the gods you're here, Libby."

"What the fuck are you wearing?" she asks groggily, eyeing my dress.

I shake my head, "fuck, shit, I mean Lilibet."

"And how did you braid your hai-" Libby speaks the same time as me before freezing and raising a finger, "fuck you."

I growl and grab her hand, "no, no, no. Listen to me," I push her hand down, "you remember running through that damned arch?"

Libby wrangles out of my clutch and rather exasperatedly glares at me, "what?"

I release a shudder then grab her face again, "listen to me, Libby!" I sigh, "remember that stupid urban legend?"

Libby's face contorts as she groans. She pushes my hands off her à la 5-year-old tantrum; her blue hair, in turn, flies to her face.

"We crossed that arch," I grab her arms, "and now we're in fucking first century Westeros, Libby," I hiss, pulling her to the bed, "which is why I have to call you Lilibet-"

"Fuck you."

"-and you have to change and cover your hair," I release her to grab the clothing on the sheets, shoving them into her chest.

"What ABOUT my hair!"

I shake my head, "it's a dead giveaw-"

"You're closer to dead. You look like a fucking grandma and you have problems with my hair?!" Libby throws the clothes back on the bed, "listen, I know I got wasted and shit, and I'm sorry, but if you want me to cosplay as a peasant, just say that and get me coffee, please-"

"LIBBY!"

Libby's ear's ring, "bitch, the fu-"

"THERE IS NO COFFEE!" I grab her arms and shake her, "we're being held hostage by Daemon Targaryen and this hair," I manically point to my head, "is our fucking lifeline!"

Libby's face pinches, the initial grogginess in her expression is expelled, "Ok, calm your tits, YN-wannabe. I told you reading fics of him would fuck with your head. Imagine reading fics about King fucking Charles-"

"IT'S NOT THE SAME!"

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT'S NOT THE SAME?! IT'S FUCKING WORS-"

"THAT'S NOT THE POINT, LIBBY!"

"HE'S THE COLONIZER OF COLONIZERS!"

"IT'S NOT A FANFIC!" I pinch my fingers together, "THIS IS NOT A FANFIC! I AM telling you we fucking crossed that arch and now we're FUCKING-"

My words cease when a creaking sound of the heavy door fills the room. The both of us turn to the door as it opens. My heart begin to race.

Lo and behold, Daemon Targaryen walks in, one hand on his hilt, eyes looking us both up and down. Libby shifts in her spot as Daemon approaches. Her demeanor immediately changes when she sees him. She straightens up and pushes her hair back, dusting off her hot pink top. Aint no way.

"Do I look good?" Libby mutters to me before Daemon is in front of us. My eyes blow wide and my jaw slacks. Be so fucking for real. She fixes her radioactive blue hair and my upper lip curls in disgust and annoyance.

Libby and Daemon lock gazes; the former smirks, "hey, cutie pie."

I slap my hand to my face. The sound reverberates in the room.

"What is a cutie pie?" Daemon asks stoically.

Libby leans on one leg, "you."

"Seven fucking hells," I quip, roughly dragging my palm down my skin.

Daemon turns to me before tilting his head. He mirrors Libby's stance and his lips faintly curve upward, "in this era, girl, pies are food. What would I have in common with a type of pie?"

Libby lets out an airy chuckle, "you ren fair boys really like roleplay, huh?"

Daemon raises a brow, "I assure you, nothing about me is boyish."

Libby bites her lip and claws the air, "rawr."

I am unable to mask the sound I make. Daemon pulls his head back at Libby's actions.

I grit my teeth and grab her arm; she shakes me off, making sure to giggle as she does this. Daemon chuckles as he turns to me, "I see why you are keen on keeping her."

"You can keep me if you like," she blurts, stepping in front of me to garner his attention. Daemon steps back.

I grab Libby's arm again. This time, with much force that the ends of my hair whip around. I whisper-yell, "you do know that is Daemon Targaryen, right?"

Libby barely turns to me as she mutters, "what?"

"You're flirting with the Daemon Targaryen," I sneer, "first of his name," I lean in and whisper, "manwhore."

Libby looks at me from over her shoulder to me then back to Daemon, "ahhhh. A cosplayer."

"Libby, I swear to g-"

"It's pretty good," she crosses her arms then points, "is that a wig or hair dye?"

Daemon furrows his brows, face contorting at her words.

My eyes widen and suddenly the silver hair on my scalp itches like it doesn't belong to me. Well, see-- it doesn't! Not in a way that counts to the incestuous gremlin!

From the way his composure tightens, I could tell he was no longer amused. I yank Libby back, shooting her a glare, "literally shut the fuck up."

She scowls at my pressed tone, "what? I was just asking-"

"Hair dye?" Daemon blurts way too loud, shutting us both up.

We turn to him as he looks between us. He tilts his head and adjusts his grip on his sword. He straightens his posture. In that moment, his expression was changed dramatically. He reaches out for Libby's hair, inspecting it in his hand. His violet eyes dart to hers, "so, your hair is blue because of dye?"

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, fuck.

I grab Libby's hand before she can think of saying some bullshit. She does not move a muscle as I squeeze her palm.

Daemon raises his brows impatiently.

"What?" she mumbles.

I clench my jaw at her ditzy response.

Daemon narrows his eyes, "are you so dimwitted not to understand me the first time?

Fucking fuck. A shiver runs down my spine. Libby raises her brows and turns to me as I stare at Daemon. I blurt, "it is a right of passage for her family."

Daemon eyes me hotly.

I release Libby's hand and scramble to the bed where my clothes were folded into a small sack. I go through my things and pull out my phone, opening my gallery, showing Daemon a photo of Libby and our friends with bright colored hair. I lie, "these are her cousins."

Daemon pulls his head back at the sight of the photo on my phone; it was the exact reaction he had when I showed him a screenshot of the maps of this very place.

Libby blinks rapidly as Daemon comes to my side. The man basically breathes down my neck as he looks a the screen like a boomer. He narrows his eyes and pulls back his chin.

I point to Sandra, who had pink hair, "they do this to... commemorate the war-- of their people."

Daemon looks at Libby again, seemingly expecting more of an explanation. I look at Daemon and begin to panic at the aloof expression Libby held. I place my hand on his arm and rub it gently. Thankfully, he's still a simple man and it seems to diffuse his unbelieving demeanor, "it's hard for her to talk about. It was a war over dye and trading. A lot of her family... were casualties."

Fuck. WELL, real wars have been fought for WAAAY less.

Daemon turns to me, "I find it hard to believe such traditions exist two thousand years from now."

"And yet," I wave my phone, "you could not also believe you were listening to music with me moments ago."

He hums and turns back to Libby. He nods, "well, have her dress," he turns back to me, "I want to break fast with you before the tourney, dragonling."

I nod rapidly. Daemon gives a smile and heads for the door, "you remember your way to the solar?"

"I do."

He eyes Libby as he walks off then turns to me, "very good."

The moment the door closes, Libby explodes, "WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!

"WE'RE IN FUCKING FIRST CENTURY WESTEROS," I whisper-yell, "now keep your voice down, you stupid fucking bitch, and change!"

It took me explaining everything that happened in detail as she got in her dress AND getting lost in the fucking castle then actually finding our way to the solar for Libby to believe I wasn't playing the most elaborate prank on her.

And when we got there, a servant informed us that the prince had been summoned by the king and that we should eat by ourselves.

Libby and I sit across each other. We decide to forfeit the fact the food could be poisoned because we were way too hungry not too eat. This blue haired rat, however, couldn't fucking stop saying the food could use salt and pepper. We were mortified when a servant came to us with a mortar of just that.

Before we could even say thank you, she runs off.

I snap at Libby, who scratches her headscarf for the nth time, "do you fucking understand you're a terrifying aristocrat right now?!"

"I'M SORRY!" Libby makes a repentant expression.

"You should be!"

"It's just that everything is fucking boiled and-"

The sound of the door opening ends Libby's yapping. We both snap to see who was entering.

In walks the dark haired man from the night before. Gold cloak, armor, and all. He steps in front of us and bows, "good morn."

"Hubba hubba," Libby tucks imaginary hair behind her ear.

"Fucking," I snap to her, "stop."

I look back at the man trying to remember his name, I can't seem to.

"Wait! Is this the madly good looking guard you were talking about?!" Libby speaks WAY to loud for a conversation between two people across each other.

The man makes a sound as he wipes his lips. My eyes widen and I sink in my chair.

"You clearly have a type," Libby mutters as she unabashedly eyes him. He is undeterred. She tilts her head, "he looks like your ex."

I snap back at her, "w h a t?"

"Or I mean he would look like him," she points her thumb, "if he wasn't so whiny, short, and pathetic," Libby turns to me.

"He literally looks nothing like Jon."

"He does!" she leans in, "dark curls, thick brows!"

I shove a bread roll into her mouth.

"Prince Daemon tasked me to be your chaperone for the day," he says, clutching his hand in front of him.

"I've always wanted a hot bodyguard," Libby smiles and leans back on her chair, "well, don't just stand there," she beckons him, "come join us for breakfast."

I pretend to fix my silver hair as I clear my throat, "breaking fast."

"Breaking fast," Libby corrects with a grin, "and what was your name again, pretty boy?"

I groan as I shove a bread roll into my mouth.

"Harwin Strong, my lady," Harwin mutters with another respectful nod, turning to me, "and please, forgive me for last night's encounter, Lady Gryffindor."

Libby titters and slaps her hand on her mouth.

"If I came off as impertinent or-"

"No, please, sir Strong," I raise a hand to him, "you were doing your job-- I mean your duty. Nothing needs to be forgiven."

"By the way," Libby raises a finger, "I'm Lady Hufflepuff and I would love it if you sat down next to me."

Harwin turns to Libby and I resist the urge to facepalm. My face twitches and I watch as Harwin shifts in his spot. I blurt, "you can call her Lilibet."

"Fuck you," Libby snaps.

I snap back, "well, that is your name, is it not?"

"I'm not entering my nun era."

I make a throaty sound and grab a goblet, "clearly," I take a sip, "but with that getup-"

"Hey!" Libby bangs on the table, "you're the one who made my cunt levels drop with this milkmaid outfit."

Harwin begins to cough.

"What? Like I chose that for you?"

"No," she props her elbow on the table, "but Daemon gave you a city girl-"

"Prince Daemon."

"-outfit and he made me look like your ugly handmaiden."

"Again," I brush my platinum hair out of my face, "that wasn't my choice, Lilibet."

"My ladies-" Harwin interjects, making us both turn to him. He clears his throat and offers pinched smile, "I am honored by the invitation, but I will stand watch out-"

"Oh, don't be rude and just sit down already," Libby presses with a playful look, "there's way more food than the two of us can eat."

And though she was correct, I kick her underneath the table.

Libby yelps and eyes me. I dodge her when she kicks me back.

"I don't think it appropri-"

"Nonsense!" Libby calls, turning back to Harwin as she fails to kick me again, "please, just join us."

"LILIBET!" I whisper-yell.

"UGH!" she turns to me with disgust and whisper-yells back, "stop fucking calling-"

"You do know he could literally be like your great-great-great-great-"

She raises a hand and cuts me off with a guttural groan, "oh miss me with that bullshit! You're LITERALLY a Targaryen!"

"I will wait outside," the man calls, making us turn to him.

Harwin walks off and Libby raises the bowl of bread rolls, "THE BREAD ROLLS ARE ACTUALLY REALLY NICE THOUGH!"

I wipe my face, "Libby, we're going to fucking die."

"Not before I try myself some Harwin Strong."

"SIT BACK DOWN."

"I'M SAT!"

When we finished eating, Harwin escorted us to the arena to watch the tourney.

"Are you married, Harwin? Can I call you Harwin?" Libby asks.

I shoot her a look, "Lilibet."

Libby ignores me. The man we were following keeps walking, not bothering to look back at us, "you may call me whatever you like, my lady."

Libby and I turn to each other with a gasp. No, cause why he playing like that?

"And I am not married," he looks over his shoulder, eyes locking with mine momentarily.

Libby's jaw drops and begins to shake me. She mutters loudly under her breath, "bitch. why he looking at you, and not at me?"

"Probably because you're fucking stupid!" I retort quickly in the same manner, unable to mask my giddy tone.

Harwin clears his throat again as he looks front. Neither of us catch this.

"Libby, be so fucking real though," I grab her arm and whisper, "that's someone's grandpa."

"Yeah, well, today, he's my daddy," she mumbles then bites her lips, as if it could minimize her grin.

Harwin makes a face and whispers under his breath, "daddy?"

When we get to the arena, the sound of the cheering crowds make both of us excited, up until someone screamed in terror and the crowds continued cheering anyway. Harwin gave us spots quite near the front, and the sight of the horses and their long-ass sticks left me feeling uneasy.

Libby shoves into me as she points to the far right. I, in turn, collide into Harwin's bulky armor. Before I can apologize for it, she squeals, "LOOK, IT'S DAEMON!"

"Libby, he's the prince!"

"TAKE A PHOTO! He looks so good!"

I give her a look as I straighten up, "girl, shut the fuck up."

Without another thought, she pulls out her phone from her bosom and wipes the moisture off the screen.

Harwin looks away, eyes wide, pretending he did not just see that happen.

"Stop it! You have no idea how bad this could-"

"Oh, shut up, you showed Daemon your phone!" Libby makes a face.

"THAT'S BECAUSE HE WOULDN'T LET ME GET REUNITED WITH YOU IF I DIDN'T CONVINCE HIM I WAS FROM-."

"Shush," she opens her camera and begins to take photos of Daemon. She shouts his name along with the other spectators and I beg her to at least call him prince.

"What is that contraption," Harwin asks, eyes glued on Libby's cracked screen.

I turn to Harwin, to Libby's phone, back to him, "it's, err... an image capturing... box."

Harwin nods at me though his face is visibly confused. He furrows his brows as Libby switches to front cam and puckers her lips out, "SAY CHEESE, DADDY!"

The color in Harwin's face drains when he sees himself on the screen. I clutch his arm and give him a look, "it's okay. It's not dangerous."

"Will it capture my image?" he mutters and covers his face. He mutters under his breath, "I'd like to keep my face."

Fuck. "N-not like that. It's... it's not black magic."

All the while, Libby is pressing the buttons on her phone, rapidly taking photos no one asked for.

A few people around us begin to mutter to themselves. I find myself looking over my shoulder, catching a bunch of men staring right at us. I eye Libby, nonverbally telling her to quit it. She gives me a look and snaps a few more pics of Daemon before shoving her phone back in her cleavage.

I release a breath when she does, that, and ser Harwin's arm that I did not realize I was still latched on to. I offer a look, "sor- apologies."

He nods, "all is well, my Lady."

And yeah sure, maybe it was. Maybe all was well. Daemon was winning the tournament-- or tourney, I guess; I have no idea what the difference was. I mean I could barely watch because they were fucking gladiator-ing each other, but I knew he was winning because after every crash, came a trumpet and the announcement of it.

So yeah. Maybe it was fine then, in its own sick way, but then Libby pulled me by the arm and said, "I have to take a shit."

"What?"

She gives me a look, "I need to take a shit."

"Libby," my eyes widen.

"I know!" she grabs my shoulders as the crowd cheers over whatever barbaric brawl was happening this time, "you think I want to know what their loos look like?" she shakes me, "am I going to have to shit in a river?"

I wipe my face and turn over to Harwin. His eyes turn from the match to me when I pull at his cloak, "mmm.... Lilibet has to... ... to poop."

Libby slaps my arm. I turn to her, frazzled. She hisses, "he doesn't know what poop is."

"You think I don't know that?!"

"I beg your pardon, my lady?" Harwin shifts to us, his thick brows knitting.

"Yeah, one second," I raise a finger at him, looking back at Libby, "I don't fucking remember the word."

Libby sighs, "Just tell him I need to sh- I NEED TO SH-"

I slap my hand on her mouth, "QUIT IT!"

Libby pushes my hand off, "WHAT?!"

"HE'S NOT GONNA KNOW WHAT THAT-"

"EVERYONE FUCKING KNOWS WHAT TAKING A SH-"

"NO, THERE'S A TERM THAT THEY USE! Think about it! Have you never watched a BBC period drama?!"

"BITCH, YOU KNOW I ONLY WATCH NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC!"

"OK, THEN THINK OF WHAT DAVID ATTENBOROUGH SAYS WHEN THE ANIMALS ARE POOPI-"

"DO YOU GENUNINELY BELIEVE THEY SHOW FOOTAGE OF ANIMALS POOPING ON TELEVISION?!"

"I DON'T FUCKING KNOW. IN ALL TV HISTORY THERE HAS TO BE AT LEAST ONE TIME WHERE-"

"HARWIN," Libby shoves me to the side and grabs the man, "I HAVE TO SHIT."

Seven father fucking hells. I dig my fingers into the roots of my light hair and to Harwin, whose lips part and brows furrow. He nods, "I will lead you to the privy," he turns to me, "stay here in the meantime."

We both nod. Libby walks to Harwin's and makes a face at me, "they call it a privy on the BBC, do they? Sounds like an office."

"Libby- Just- if push comes to shove, tell him you'll shit in the river."

Libby groans as Harwin leads her off. She shoots me a glare, "I am not shitting in a river with Harwin watching!"

I shriek in shock when there is a loud crashing sound. My hands dart to my ears just as the crowd roars. A loud voice announces the victory of Prince Daemon from House Targaryen.

I drag my hands down my cheek and clutch my chest.

I dare to look at the casualties on the playing grounds, but to my horror, I see something far worse. Daemon's horse is galloping over to me. He rips his helmet off, tosses it, and sighs through a grin. He points his stick to me and loudly calls, "might a fair woman like you reward me something sweet?"

My eyes widen and I feel the entire stadium turn to me. My heart races and my jaw loosens inch by inch.

Daemon shoves his stick to the side and reaches his arms out to me, "a kiss perhaps?"

Rat, I wasn't even watching you play. Why should I reward you for winning a game I didn't watch?

I cannot help the sound that leaves me when the other audience members begin to spur me on and nudge me. Fuck. I hate peer pressure. I walk towards the railing and eye Daemon as if I had laser vision.

"I CANNOT REACH YOU!" I scream back, momentarily shocked by the ferocity and fury of my voice. I gulp and clear my throat, rubbing my neck that I would so like to keep. I raise my hands, "I must then stay here!"

Daemon, face shining with sweat, colored with dirt and blood, beams as he looks up. He chuckles and dismounts his steed. He walks closer to me and begins to remove his armor, "then come down to me, woman!"

The crowd loses it. The women around me scream that I should come down to him.

Maybe if I jump head first, I'll be done with all this bother.

Fuck, but then Libby would be all alone.

I groan under my breath, "fucking Libby. This is all her fucking fault!"

I look back at Daemon, who had two men helping him out of his armor at this point. His eyes are on me; they probably didn't leave. His lips are curved higher, "fear not," he smirks deeper, "did I swear to protect you?"

The crowd is feral. I glance around the place. Isn't the fucking king right there?!

"No!" I look down at him and shake my head, "you swore not to harm us!"

Daemon laughs, "is there a difference?"

"YES!" I blurt, eyes wide.

Daemon stands alone bellow me, free of his upper body armor. He raises his hands up to me, "then believe me when I say you will not be harmed when you jump."

"Oh gods," I grip the railing and screw my eyes shut, "I fucking hate this man."

"Will you make all of King's Landing wait days for you, girl?"

I growl as the people around me continue to pressure me to jump. Had there not been people around, maybe I would have spit at him. And yet - I climb the railing - I am nothing against peer pressure.

Daemon steps forward, arms higher, laugh louder.

The stadium gasps while heart leaps into my mouth when I let go of the railing and drop straight down. The collision is just as messy as I had dreaded it to be and the next thing I know, I've smack dabbed atop the fucking prince of the realm, crushing into the fucking dirt. So much for catching me.

Yet somehow, Daemon manages to let out giggles while the crowd cheers. His arms tighten around me as I push myself up on his chest, "my," he blows silver hair out of his face, "I didn't actually think you'd do it."

"Fuck you," I snap and shove myself off him.

I don't even know where I'm even going, but I storm off anyway, feeling like the biggest idiot in the known galaxy.

But of course, Daemon is quick to get up and grab my arm. He speaks some High Valyrian bullshit, but I care little for it and pry my limb out of his clutch.

It seemed that was the wrong course of action though, cause the next thing I knew, he grabbed me and threw me over his shoulder. The audience flourishes over the way he took me like a piece of meat.

I fucking hate it here.

Make no mistake, I did my due diligence and tried to wrangle out of his grip. But he was pumped with far too much adrenaline, and his inflated ego would not let him let me go.

Eventually, I got tired and just let it happen. The moment he put me down when we arrived at his chambers though, I shoved him off and distanced myself as much as I could, "what the fuck is wrong with you?!"

Daemon responds in High Valyrian, which effectively pisses me off more.

"I don't have TIME to decode your dragon-heir bullshit, so quit it! I am not a toy!"

Daemon chuckles as he takes a towel and wipes his face, "no?"

"Look," I snap, "I know you're, like, touch deprived and emotionally constipated," I stretch my arm out, "I mean, your family-- our family is a fucking wreath, so you're bound to be fucked up in the head, but please," I press my palms together, "PLEASE just be normal until the end of the day, Dae- Prince Daemon."

Daemon laughs as I go off on him. He watches me for a moment, throws the towel to his bed, and tilts his head.

My chest heaves as we stare at each other. Instead of relaxing, I begin to grow more tense with every passing second. I take a deep breath, but it does nothing for my nerves when Daemon walks forward.

"The truth in the matter is," he raises a hand, "you need me."

My stomach drops when he yanks me by the waist. His violet eyes dart down to my heaving chest. He places his one hand on my collarbone, "shhh."

The feel of him pressing onto my flesh does the exact opposite of what he wants. But no-- with how the corner of his mouth curves upward, I think it's actually the exact reaction he wanted.

When I try to push him off, he pulls me tighter into him and repeats, "you need me."

My nostrils flare but I stop repelling him.

"You need me," he lifts his gaze, "but I don't. I want you, but you need me."

I clench my jaw tightly. I am unable to contain my flinch when his hand strokes my side. He continues, "you need me to open the gate for you and your friend come midnight, do you not?"

I turn away from him.

He nudges me and asks louder, "do you not?"

"Yes," I whimper as I shut my eyes.

He hums, "then," he takes my chin in his fingers, "you'll be what I want, riñītsos." Little girl. He raises his brows. "If say you are a toy, then you say, 'yes, my prince'. If I say you are a rug, then I expect you under my heel. If I say you are my dog, then you ought to bark," he releases my chin, "now, bark, my sweet."

I glare at him, "if you want a dog, I suggest you go up North." I push him by his chest.

He laughs. He grabs my arms and pushes me back. I panic when I fumble on my feet and find myself pressed against a wall. "You're right, riñītsos. How wrong of me to liken dragon fire to dog breath."

I gasp when my back hits the wall.

"A shame," he tucks my silver hair behind my ear, "your parents did not give you violet eyes."

I am frozen in my spot when his lips brush against mine. My breath hitches when he simultaneously presses me back with his chest and pulls me forward with his hands.

I don't kiss him back. My brain was in a glitch. He doesn't seem to mind and feasts on my lips. The moment I have the wits to move, he pulls away and whispers, "worry not," he kisses my jaw, "I'll give your babes violet eyes."

Hearing that really snapped me out of my trance.

I finally turn away from him. It does not deter him though, and he makes due with kissing my neck. He moans against me, "you smell divine."

"I-it's called," I push him back, "personal hygiene."

He snakes his arms around me, "you were sent to me by the gods."

"I travelled here by accident!"

"And I plan to make good of this happy accident."

I fight him off when he claws my skirt up. I weigh my chances with screaming and with talking sense into him. I ponder of telling him my vagina is cursed, but then I think he'd be into that.

"Don't fight it," Daemon grabs my wrists, "I will quench the fires of the Targaryen blood in you that calls out to me."

"My blood does not call out to you!" I whimper.

"You may be Gryffindor by name, but you will be a Targaryen once I am done with you."

And then the doors slam open. "Your grace!"

"Harwin," I call out to the man that burst in.

Daemon growls and but does not pull away or turn, "I'm busy."

"It's Lady Hufflepuff," Harwin speaks through strained breath.

"Who?"

My stomach drops, "wait!" I push Daemon harder, "what happened to Libby?"

Daemon finally looks over his shoulder with annoyance, "what happened?"

Harwin takes a moment to respond. The dread that courses through me makes me strong enough to shove Daemon off. He grunts as I do so. I walk over to the dark haired man, "Harwin."

He clenches his jaw and turns to his feet, "I took her to the privy. She said she was having... trouble using it and that I should call a servant to help. So... I fetched a servant, but when I returned," he clears his throat, "she was gone."

I bring my hand to my mouth.

Daemon walks up behind me, "you lost a woman in King's Landing, Strong?"

"I- I did not think much of it at first," Harwin turns to Daemon, "at first I thought she may have just finished and was playing a trick on me," he glances to me but looks away at once, "but then I saw her contraption on the ground-"

I gasp.

"And then I saw a shoe... and then her headscarf-"

"Dear gods, Libby," my voice strains.

"She was taken by a group of three men," Harwin speaks sternly, "I know not for, but they've since regret their decision."

"And Libby!" I jump and grab his arm, "where is she now?!"

Harwin feels guilt eat away at him when he catches my distraught expression. He turns to me, placing a hand on my shoulder, "she's being attended to by the maesters in the ward-"

I dash to the door, intent on reaching her, though I had no idea where I was going.

"It's this way!" Daemon calls.

When I turn to see where he meant, he was already right behind me. He grabs my arm and leads me down the hall.

The moment we get to the ward, I run around and look for Libby. I am shocked solid in my place when I see the cot she is laid upon. My hands slap to my face upon catching her messy hair, dirty skin, and tattered clothes. Her waist was bound in bandages, but that didn't prevent the red to seep through from her side.

I drop to my knees and crawl all the way over to her. I yelp when I feel how cold her hands are. Hot tears burn down my cheek, "Libby, please!"

My breathing becomes more erratic.

"I've spoken to the maesters," Daemon's voice sounds from behind.

"Fucking tetanus, fucking bacterial shock-"

"They said she lost some blood but she will recov-"

"SHUT UP!" I snap and get to my feet, "YOU GET A FUCKING FEVER HERE AND YOU DIE!" I point an accusing finger, "THIS IS ALL YOUR FUCKING FAULT!"

"ME?" Daemon snaps back, "that Strong fool was the one that took his eyes off her!"

"If you had just let us stay in your chambers like I begged you to-- but no! You wanted us to watch your stupid fucking game, you EGOTISTICAL BASTARD!"

He steps forward and barks back, "she still would have needed to go to the privy, you whining nitwit!"

"Why did they even take her?!" I whine.

Daemon does not respond.

"I do not contest that the fault is mine," another voice speaks.

Daemon and I turn to Harwin. His hands are linked in front of him, and only then do I realize they were bloody. More tears gush down my face when the man continues, "it was my duty to keep her-"

"It doesn't matter now, does it!?" I wail, waving my hands around. I fall back on my knees and turn to Libby. Her blue hair was stuck on her sweaty skin. And as I wiped her forehead, it felt like a rehash of last night, except worse. I sob, "nothing's gonna change the fact she got fucking stabbed."

Daemon looks from me to Harwin, "what of the men that took her?"

"I killed them."

My expression drops as I turn to Harwin.

The two stare at each other for a moment.

"Well, we can't question the dead, now can we," Daemon mutters, "feed their corpses to Caraxes."

"W-wait," I feel bile rise up my throat, "did- did you actually kill them?"

Harwin looks at me but doesn't respond. He walks off when Daemon orders him to get a chair. I turn to Daemon and whimper, "he didn't actually kill them... did he actually kill them?"

Daemon nods, "he did," and grabs my arms, "do not insult yourself by sitting on the floor."

For once, I do not fight him back. I let him bring me to my feet. The moment I'm stood before him, he takes my cheeks and wipes my tears.

I shake my head, "I have to take her back."

Daemon raises his brows, "you would dare to move her in such a state?"

"It's the only way she will survive," I mumble through trembling lips.

The prince looks at me for a moment. Harwin finally brings a chair. He places it beside us then stations himself by the door. Neither Daemon nor I make a move for the chair. The former asks, "and you think you can carry her all the way back?"

"Daemon," I grab his arms, "I just have to get her back. Once I'm there, it'll be half the work done."

Daemon releases a breath. He takes my silver locks and fondles with the ends, "and what if I do not want you to leave."

Fuck. "Please," I beg, "please. We both know I don't belong here."

I can see it clearly. It was so clear that those words meant nothing to him. It was talking to a brick wall. I sigh and wipe my face, "I'll do what you want. Whatever it is, I'll do, as long as you let us go by midnight."

Daemon narrows his eyes.

I muster up the most sincere expression I am capable of.

"You will give me whatever I want?"

I close my eyes and shake my head, "yes... my prince."

He does not respond. Daemon turns from me to Libby. He pulls away and calls, "Strong."

"Your grace," Harwin responds.

"She could manage on the back of an ass, could she not?"

Harwin thinks for a moment then nods, "she could."

"Then fetch me an ass," Daemon says. Harwin promptly complies.

Daemon doesn't make me do anything besides sit on his lap while we watched Libby for the rest of the night. I knew in my gut that was not what he wanted out of me, but he didn't say otherwise and I didn't bring it up. Soon enough, it was midnight and there I, Daemon, Harwin, and Libby, sat on a donkey, stood before the open gate of the castle.

Rather than thinking this was stupid and it wasn't going to fucking work, I prayed under my breath to the Seven that we be delivered from this nightmare.

But every time I felt tranquil, the donkey made a sound and I just knew it had to go. What the hell was I going to do with the donkey when I got back to the city anyway?

I clutch the satchel containing our things around my shoulders, "I'll carry her instead."

Daemon and Harwin turn to me and mutter at the same time, "what?"

"I don't want to be responsible for the donk- the animal when I get there."

"Just leave the ass behind," Daemon mutters, rather annoyed.

I grab Libby, who I was already keeping upright, and wrap her arms around my shoulders, "I can carry her."

"No, you can't," Daemon mutters.

Harwin adds, "you are not in the right mind to do this."

"Just," Daemon add, "set the beast free when-"

"I can't just let a donkey loose in King's Landing, Daemon!" I snap, "now please! Help me-"

The bells begin to ring.

I immediately panic.

A surge of adrenaline helps me gather Libby onto my back. "Fucking hell," I grunt and try to fix her on me.

Daemon shakes his hand, "here, let me-"

"I GOT IT!" I scream as the sound of the bell tolling makes my entire body burn with agitation.

I shift Libby on my back one last time and beeline to the gate.

Harwin and Daemon watch. It's impossible to tell which of them is more skeptic in the moment.

I begin to struggle and nearly trip on the annoying skirts hindering my feet. Harwin steps forward, "watch your step."

Daemon eyes him in annoyance, "how helpful."

"Fuck," I panic and begin to walk faster towards the gate, "fucking hell, it's not even that far!"

I reach the large, tunnel-like gate and can't help but close my eyes, afraid that if I could see where I was going, it wouldn't work.

Then SPLAT! I fall face down on the ground.

I scream and immediately roll Libby off me, uncaring that it hurt me, that it hurt her, and quickly get on my feet. I drag her corpse-like body across the expanse and cry as I do so.

I was manic. I was delirious. The sound of the echoing bells did not help the situation at all. I couldn't stop pleading to the gods as I tugged my best friend across the ground. I couldn't even open my eyes because I didn't think my prayers were heard.

"Enough!" a voice calls.

No. NO! That was fucking Daemon. GET THE FUCK AWAY!

I feel someone mess with Libby's body. I screech and refuse to let her go, "LET US GO, DAEMON!"

"THAT'S ENOUGH!"

"NO!" I squeal, finally opening my eyes. I release Libby and lunge at Daemon when I spot him. We crumble to the ground. Once he's on his back, I begin to beat him. It unfortunately doesn't take long for him to overpower me.

"ENOUGH!" he barks, both my hands now trapped in his.

"LET US GO!" I cry.

Daemon shakes his head, "STOP IT!"

"WE'RE GOING BACK!" I try to punch my way out of his grip. It doesn't work.

"Look at me!" Daemon yells, "you dragged her through."

"Get off me!"

"You've done it!!"

I flinch when he shakes me.

"You did it!" Daemon exclaims as he sits up, hands cradling my shoulders, "we're in your time now."

I finally register his words. Daemon looks around, "when you said ruins, I expected an empty castle, not... ruins."

A gasp leaves me when I hear a loud roar from the sky. Daemon looks up when I do, and I calm down when I realize it was only an airplane.

"Was that a dragon?" Daemon asks.

"No," I pull away from him, "that's an-" wait. I stare at him. Daemon fucking Targaryen came back with me?

[sugudoe]

── ✎ CHERRY SODA, 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘬𝘰‧₊˚ ୨୧

✶ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: June has arrived with a constant presence of heat waves, which your hot self is happy about — after all, now you have an excuse for your red cheeks and sweaty hands whenever 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙠𝙤 𝙞𝙚𝙞𝙧𝙞 is near you.

✶ 𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: happy pride month! i love loving woman. at the end, i got heavenly inspired by gatsby’s love for daisy, if you’ve seen the movie with leo, you will understand which scene i’m referring too. fun fact: the movie they are watching is bodies bodies bodies, and i wanted to explore more of reader’s ct, but i couldn’t, cus is all fluff. there is always gojo slander in my fics where he is not the love interest lmao. I ALSO LEARNED HOW TO MAKE DE DEGRADE TITLE MWAHHH. divider by: @cafekitsune

✶ 𝐬𝐲𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬: fem!reader / pure fluff / modern!au / curse!au / crackfic! / all are minors so no smut or sexual innuendo / everyone is gay / english is not my first language / too many swear words / lesbian!shoko / reader’s sexuality is shoko, and only that.

✶ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.4k

The happiest day of your life in Jujutsu Tech was the day you found out your upperclassmen, Shoko Ieiri, was lesbian.

That’s it, it was a simple statement made by her when you heard Gojo Satoru flirting with the girl and receiving the news as an answer. You nearly fell to your knees thanking whatever deity is taking care of this universe and you, the sky was clear of clouds, but you could hear perfectly the fireworks of celebration in your head and heart.

“And then, she said ‘Gojo, I’ll rather eat raw liver than be dating a man, specially you.’” You recall the talk while walking from side to side in your room, while Haibara and Nanami are seated in your bed, one with a enchanting smile and the other completely bored. “And…”

“And what?” Haibara bounces on his crossed legs, hands gripping your sanrio plushie of Cinnamonroll, his favorite of your vast collection.

“And she is vegetarian!” You clap your hands, Yu following your movement. “So, Gojo turned to me, and he said ‘and what about you, hot stuff?’ ”

“What did you answered?” Nanami is the one to ask, although his eyes are fixated on the album cover of the vinyl in his hands, disco playing in the background, his ears are all focused on the gossip.

“So, you see…” Scratching your head, you sighed. “I fumbled for real, just went back to you guys.”

Haibara happy expressions morph into disappointment.

“You’re so stupid, with all respect.” He offends you, though. “This was your chance, it’s not everyday we can be going around telling people we are gay, specially our crush.”

“You do all the time.” Both you and Nanami answers the boy.

“Yeah, ‘cause I’m me, Yu Haibara, the one that can’t shut his mouth. No one tells me their secrets, Kennie had to bodyslam me multiple times because I was always about to tell everyone, when we fist stared going out.” Although he said with energy, the boy had his lips in a pout.

“That’s not true, you haven’t told anyone I’m sapphic or about my crush on Shoko.” Your pacing has stopped, as you tried your best to comfort him.

“Not yet, at least.” Nanami snorts his small comment, before whipping the smirk of, and groaning. “Listen, I’m not in the mood to have you two whining, one is already hard enough to deal with, and I’m dating him! So you need to fix this, Y/n.”

“Huh? Fix what? What did I do?” You stare at Haibara, but he seems as confused as you.

“You need to make sure Shoko knows you’re into women as well. Make this your plan of life or whatever, soon as she knows, then comes plan b: get her on a date, it’s not that hard.”

“Yes it is!” You argue your friend’s really good plan. “She is Shoko Ieiri, pretty and popular and strong, and I’m little old me.” You dramatically falls on your carpet, hands on your forehead like a damsel.

“Girl, be for real, this school does not have that many people to be calling her popular. It’s just that you both are the only girls.” Haibara throws the sanrio plush at your face after his statement. “And you are as strong as her, in fact you are stronger than her, you literally are the strongest at the school.”

“So close! That’s the albino with the blinding eyes, actually.” Says Kento, coming to sit on the floor by your side. Both of you with large doe eyes staring at an energetic Haibara.

“She knows what I mean, your cursed technique is literally the more fucked you get, the more stronger you become. If Gojo bitch slapped you, you would break this world with your energy.”

“What are you saying, baby?” You stare agape at Nanami, is not always he uses the pet names, but the boy is as shocked as you with Haibara’s statement, so it slipped.

“Yeah, what’s with you and this weird coach talk? I don’t wanna be slapped by Gojo.” You mumble awkward, thoughts going straight into the cursed image of having Satoru’s large hands slapping your face — goosebumps follow your disgust in your skin.

“You need to shoot your shot, make her see you as not a school friend but as a potential future girlfriend.” The brunette gets up from the bed and points to your calendar. “It’s june, time to proud!”

You are proud and extremely hot, days later when summer has made its presence everyone’s problem. The students at school discards the purple jackets of their uniforms to only wear the white shirt underneath. You have to do a double take when you see Shoko and her classmates coming your way at the vending machine.

Ieiri looks so beautiful. She always does — but there is something about the short box braids she has, or how she tied her blouse on her waist, the way her skin is glowing with sweater, or the way she is smiling and right in front of you — glossy lips tinted pink moving. Oh shit, she is talking to you.

“I’m sorry what?” You catch yourself saying before staring at her eyes, she is smiling and they are almost closing. Adorable. “My brain is melting, it’s so hot.”

Lame excuse, but she buys it, you think.

“I was asking if you bought your soda yet.” You can sense her eyes on your empty hands, and smiles more when you sign no with your head.

“No..No! I was about to, you want some? I can buy for you.” You cringe at your own desperation, but Shoko sweetly laugh.

“No! I want to buy for you. I’m you senpai, it’s my job.” She goes for the machine and presses the number for cherry coke twice, before paying with her card. Shoko gives you your can before saying her goodbye and moving back to her waiting friends, both males smirking at you.

Walking back with a maniac smile before sprinting to your bedroom, you where once again greeted by Nanami and Haibara in there, startled by your sudden entrance of nearly breaking the door down.

“SHE KNOWS MY SODA!” You scream before falling to your knees, the cold can pressed against your hand reliving you.

“What does she mean?” Haibara asks to his boyfriend, but Nanami simply shrugs, annoyed.

“Don’t know, but clearly you don’t know ours. I’m thirsty and melting.” The blond whines before leaving the room to grab his and his boyfriend’s beverage.

“Hai, you don’t understand.” It’s a second after the door closes, you are in front of the boy, happy expressions in contrasts to his alarmed one. “She payed for my soda, and she knew what was my favorite.”

“SHE KNOWS YOUR SODA.”

When Nanami returns, minutes later, he is appalled to see you and his boyfriend screaming happily and jumping on your carpet, while on the background, wedding bells are heard from your music box. He sighs desperate.

Friday comes quickly, and luckily for you, it’s the first of the month, therefore, movie nights in your room: the perfect hangout spot, as always. It’s been a tradition since your friendship with Haibara started, and Nanami shows up whenever he was bored, which pretty much was all the time — specially now that he has his own boyfriend to cuddle.

You love them both to a crazy extent, is true! But no one in their right minds enjoy third wheeling, so you keep mumbling while setting your room up with the help of Yu while Nanami is out buying the snacks. It’s in the middle of your one person rant while adjusting fairy lights on your bed, small couch and plushies’s shelf, you feel something being throw to your head.

“Ow! What was that for?” You turn around to a pissed of Yu, hands on his hips and scowling face.

“I’m so tired of you, Y/n.” The boy comes closer to you, you fear he is going to throw any other thing, but instead he hugs you. “Please, don’t be stupid. Shoko likes you, everyone can see as much as we see you like her. So stop wasting time.”

It’s not supposed to work, because after all, you are the second most dramatic person in this school — coming after Satoru. For some reason, you might blame the summer heat waves that burn your skin much like Shoko’s attention does, and your brain has always been fogged with thoughts of only her. The thing is, Haibara is partly right. You like her lots and lots, and she likes girls lots and lots, and you are a girl, a pretty girl that can make Shoko laugh and feel comfortable — a pretty girl she knows what’s the favorite soda flavor.

Haibara is startled when you leave his embrace to move out of the room, he follows you after a few second of astonishment, and when the boy notices where you are going, a large smile is plastered on his face. He is so proud of you.

Both of you stop in front of a black door decorated with a cat rug and painted with flowers and vines, handmade by Shoko herself. You take three long breaths before knocking the door, and nearly jump back when it’s opened less than a second later by a six foot tall white haired freak with devilish smile. Gojo doesn’t have his glasses. Bitch knew you were coming.

“Shoko, your girlfriend is here.” Satoru sings before opening the door more, giving you a sight of Shoko’s perfectly cleaned room and minimal decorated, a total contrast to your own.

“Y/n?” Ieiri jumps from her bed besides Geto and comes your way at the door, pink cheeks much like yours. “Hi!”

“Hi…” Your soft voice you have reserved only for her comes out, before you scratch your throat and looks at everyone. All eyes are on you. “Uh, the boys and I are doing a movie night. We- - we thought of inviting you guys, if you want.”

“We would love to, we were so bored, actually.” Shoko answers right away, before turning to her friends.

“Huh? Weren’t we going to the mall?” Gojo asks turning towards Geto, but the black haired only shakes his head. “Oh, oh! Yeah, yeah, we are totally bored, no mall! Just movies with friends sounds amazing.”

“Great!” You smile triumphantly. “Nanami is getting snacks. Hai, can you send him a message asking to buy more?” You turn to your friend, but he is already with his phone in hand, texting, one of his hand making a positive sign. You turn back to face Shoko, shivering while noticing she is already staring at you. “So, see you… You guys, in fifteen minutes?”

“Yeah, see ya.” She whispers back.

It takes Haibara hands on your shoulder, much like Gojo’s on Shoko, for you to realize both of you had been quietly staring at each other. You wave her goodbye before moving back to your dorm. While in there, you and Haibara prepare the room for the others. The sofa would be for him and Nanami and your bed for you, as always. Your friend goes to his room before returning with his inflatable neon pink couch, which prompt you to change your neon lights to pink, as well.

The room is cutely decorated before you both fall on the bed to rest, and then a knock come. You don’t get up, Nanami just bursts into the room before dropping his bags on your coffee table. He scoffs.

“Why did you had to invite them?” Is all he says before falling on his sofa. “I mean, I like her, Geto I can handle…” Kento moves his face to stare at you two before whining. “But Gojo?!”

“Damn, I thought this was going to be a good time, not an offending me time.” The three of you jump at hearing Gojo’s voice, he is by your door, annoying smile decorating his face. Besides him, is Geto and Shoko.

“Every hour is a offending Gojo time, sorry bud.” Geto taps his friend head before moving inside your room, his eyes scan the place before deciding to fall on the neon sofa. “Nice room, Y/n, very you.”

The “thank you” is at the tip of your tongue, barely leaving through your voice, before stagnating when you look at the door, where she is. And fuck, you don’t think you’ve said anything in this world before, words become nothing in your mind in that very moment, all you can think is compliments and her name — Shoko is wearing a different outfit than earlier, she discharged the shorts and shirt for a flourished sundress, and two strands of her hair are braided. You can also catch glitter on her eyelids and her signature pink gloss on her lips.

“Shit.” Someone say, and you quickly realize it’s your voice. You cough before shifting your face to the boys, all again staring at you. “Uh, than… Fuck, thank you, Geto.” You say before moving towards the coffee table and grabbing two sodas of cherry coke and twizzlers. You go towards Shoko, who is still by your door, and you handle her the soda with a happy smile she copies.

“Am I going to have to share the pink couch with them giants?” Shoko whispers, motioning her head towards Satoru and Suguru, both playing fighting in the inflatable couch.

“No, no.” Couching again to refrain the embarrassment of answering so quickly, you sigh after, containing your nervousness. “You can share the bed with me.”

You close the door behind her, and soon your hand is in her back, moving both of you towards your comfortable bed and sitting on it, legs sprayed all over while your backs are resting on your comfortable headboard. Shoko is near the wall, caged by your body.

You toss the controller to Haibara, and he starts to go through the movies in the playlist showed on your wall, by your projector. You are not interested in movies anymore, if you could you would move everyone away and be with only her. You can sense her face moving towards the boys and you, but you keep staring at your soda. The cold in it keeps you in check.

Taking a gulp, tasting the faint cherry, you wonder what kissing Shoko would taste like. You could bet it would be like strawberries with sugar sprinkled on them, maybe a spoon of honey as well. And obviously, a tinted bitter of the cigarettes she smokes from time to time — it used to be worse, until you commented on the bothering of the smoke, and now she never smokes whenever you are near.

Maybe, you head and heart wonders, she likes you. There is nothing wrong with you, after all. You are pretty, smart, strong and sometimes funny. You could be liked by her as much as you like her, right?

The movie is already playing when Shoko pokes your arm, your mind goes blank and you move to her, tilting your head.

“Can I have a licorice?” She quietly asks. You want to give her anything, in fact.

“Yeah, here.” You open the package, giving her one of the red tubes. Trying not to, but failing, your eyes focused on the way her lips closed on the candy, wetting part of it with her gloss.

“Hey! No snoggin in there, I’m already third wheeling these two.” Gojo’s voice makes you realize how close you were to Shoko’s face, you grunt before staring at Nanami and Haibara, and they are just holding each-other.

“You’re bitter ‘cause Suguru won’t cuddle you.” Shoko answers after biting harshly her licorice, Nanami laughs at her answer when an offended gasp comes from Gojo. He doesn’t deny.

You laugh at Gojo’s offended face, and to add more fire to his bitterness, you move your arm to Shoko’s shoulder, she goes stiff for a moment before resting her head to your neck.

“Traitors.” Gojo mumbles and goes back to staring the movie, you see Suguru smirk before doing the same you did to Shoko to his friend.

After more minutes of the movie, in a particularly funny scene, you sense Ieiri’s head moving, you look down and she is already facing you. You grab another licorice and give it to her, straight to her mouth, she bites it before you take a bite on the other end.

If that’s the closest your mouth would come to hers, you would take it. By the gods, anything she would give you, would be precisely loved by you. Her presence, her scent, her glittery eyes staring solely at you. You would trade anything for her in that moment, if only to keep her attention on you and yours on her. What’s heaven to a woman’s love anyway?

You want to kiss her when the licorice is devoured eagerly. You almost do, lips reaching closer, and her eyes flattering shut, but a bombing laugh of Suguru takes you both apart. No one noticed, all eyes on your wall. You sigh gulping, groaning once more, but smiling while hearing her quiet giggles.

When the movie ends, everyone but you two get up, cracking their bones and talking loudly.

“Y/n, what was your favorite scene?” Haibara is the one who asks you, smirk in his face he shares with Gojo. “My favorite was the cruise one with the bananas’s costume, so funny.”

“Oh, yeah! Yeah, my favorite as well.” You answer while caressing Shoko’s arms, she starts to giggle more and you smile as well. “There was no cruise scene, right?”

“No, there wasn’t.” Shoko moves her head up, laughing sweetly now.

The gods really took their time with her, appreciating every little detail, from her laughs she emanated such good feelings, your insides would go warm and butterflies would rip your ribcage. But truthfully, you felt the weight of all your emotions while staring lovingly at her. Someone coughed.

“Well, I don’t know ‘bout you guys, but I’m tired. Should we go?” Gojo says and everyone agrees, they all say goodbye to you before stopping at the door, Nanami moves towards your music box, playing a calm song he knows you listen to before sleeping.

“Aren’t you coming, Shoko?” Suguru asks with malicious in his voice. She yawns, but doesn’t move.

“I’ll walk her to her room, don’t worry.” You say, making her nod and soon all the boys are gone. Is just you and her, in your bed.

Shit. Shoko Ieiri is in your bed. The perfect girl, the one you adores, the most beautiful human being is laying on you in your bed and she is not complaining, she even hugs your waist tighter when the door closes.

“Ieiri.” It’s rare for you to call her by her name, and she always seems happier when you do, this time is no different, she moves her head up with that cute smile you adore. “I like you.”

You always wondered how to confess to someone — her — in the most majestic and perfect way. In your mind, much like Haibara did to Nanami, you should give her plenty of her favorite food and flowers to match her sun kissed cheeks. It’s not something you planned, because you’ve never thought this day would come. Although it all changed with her in your arms, like she was always meant to be, you were designed to hold her.

So, in the pink and yellow lights of your room, under a shelf of dozens of plushies and Novo Amor playing in the background, your eyes focus shifting from her glitter eyeshadow to the gloss in her lips, that was heaven to you. That was the perfect place. She smiles, and you know you did the right thing.

“I like you too, Y/n.” Her sweet voice is melody to your ears, you barely register what she says, but is nothing to worry about, her lips are quickly on yours by the end of her sentence.

It’s cherry.

Shoko Ieiri tastes like cherry, in fact, she tastes like your favorite soda, a part of you who loves the beverage, unknowingly already choosing her. Her gloss is passed to your lips, giving you more of her taste, and when the kiss gets deeper, you feel like heaven has been given to you. In that moment, you know you are lost.

You separate yourselves for a second, finding yourself hovering over her, and stare at the her pretty crimson face, for just a moment appreciating that after her you would never be the same again. And how happy you were for that. So you go back for a second kiss, and a third, and more, more. All the kisses she wants, you will give to her, for the whole eternity you’ll have by her side — you are hers, and she is yours.

[sarafinamk]

Fallen Angel 50 Incorrect Quotes Special

The Smiling Critters Space Riders Au and the character Z belongs to @onyxonline

If you haven't checked out the Fallen Angel (Reader Insert) series, you can check out Part 1 and Part 2 here. You, the reader, will be referred to as both (Y/n) and Archangel.

Right now, I need to focus on writing my thesis paper, so I'm not sure when Part 3 will be posted. In the meantime, enjoy this crackfic as an Easter present. Some quotes will contain slight spoilers for future chapters. 😉 Enjoy.

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*During a training session*

Hoppy: Fight me, you nerd ass punk!

Archangel: At least TRY to sound sophisticated when you threaten someone.

Kickin: Dost thou wish to engage in a duel, my good bITCH?!

Archangel: *Facepalms* Somehow, that was worse...

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Bobby: Are you having another depressive episode?

Archangel: A depressive episode?

Archangel: I'm having a depressive series and we're just on season one.

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Z: What's wrong with you?

Archangel: Off the top of my head, I'd say low self-esteem, a lack of paternal affection, and a genetic predisposition for anxiety and depression.

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Crafty: How’s training going?

Archangel: Terrible. I want to stab everybody there.

Crafty: Okay, just don’t get any blood on your clothes.

Bobby: ...you shouldn’t be condoning this.

Crafty: Don’t tell me how to live my life.

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Archangel: Yesterday, I overheard the Captain saying “Are you sure this is a good idea?” and Hoppy replying “Trust me,” and I have never moved from one room to another so quickly in my life.

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Archangel: Helpful grammar tip: “farther” is for physical distance, “further” is for methaphorical distance, and “father” is for emotional distance!

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Archangel: raises eyebrows

Dogday: Put those back down!

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Archangel: Problem, I can't tell if this food is over-sauced or undercooked.

Kickin: Solution, just pop it back in the oven for another 10 minutes. There's at least a 50% chance that'll fix it, right?

Bubba: Result? Food has somehow become unpleasantly soggy and unpleasantly crunchy at the exact same time.

Hoppy: No better time than this to pull out my favorite word! Slunchy!

Picky: …put it away.

----------

Picky: One time I went to hand (Y/n) a bowl of soup. I wanted to say “Careful, it’s hot!”, and “Here’s your soup!”, so instead I blurted out “Careful it’s soup.”

----------

*Preparing for a mission*

Hoppy: Okay, who's turn is it to give the pep talk?

Catnap: It's (Y/n)'s turn.

Archangel: Don't die.

Kickin, wiping a tear away: Truly inspirational.

----------

Archangel: I can't take you seriously wearing that.

Kickin: Aw, you take me seriously at all?

Archangel: Fair point.

----------

Dogday: My level of gay has reached “sighing deeply whenever anything extremely heterosexual happens near me”.

----------

Archangel to Bubba: How do you tell someone politely you want to hit them with a brick?

----------

Dogday: If I say I love you, will you say it back?

Z: Yes.

Dogday: I love you.

Z: It back.

*Later*

Archangel: Why is the Captain crying face-down on the floor?

----------

*the Space Riders at Disneyland, in the teacups*

Crafty, Bobby, Bubba, and Picky: *spinning a little and talking*

Dogday, Catnap, Kickin, and Hoppy: *flying past them, spinning as fast as they can, screaming*

----------

Hoppy: I've done a lot of dumb stuff.

Dogday: I witnessed the dumb stuff.

Catnap: I recorded the dumb stuff.

Kickin: I joined you in the dumb stuff.

Archangel: I TRIED TO STOP YOU FROM DOING THE DUMB STUFF!

----------

Archangel: This is a bad idea.

Hoppy: Then why are you coming along?

Archangel: Someone has to get your injured ass home.

----------

Archangel: I feel awful about killing you.

Z:

Archangel: Even though technically you never even died, so I don’t know what you’re bitching about.

----------

Dogday: Hoppy, don’t go picking a fight with (Y/n). Don’t forget, they’re powerful, they could make life difficult for you.

Hoppy: Wow, I wonder what it'd be like to have a difficult life.

----------

Dogday: I’m so happy both angels are getting along now.

Catnap: Uh, Z and (Y/n) are not getting along.

Dogday: They’re not trying to kill each other.

Catnap: You may have a point.

----------

Archangel: The universe is cold and unfeeling. The only constant is chaos.

Picky: Was Kissy's place out of chocolate-chip pancakes again?

----------

Kickin: Yeah, I find it quite emotional. In like a cool way.

Archangel: Did you just say it makes you cry in a cool way?

----------

Archangel, proudly: I slept.

Catnap: Is that so much of a rare thing that you have to say it?

----------

Archangel: You're a lying piece of shit!

Hoppy: Oh yeah? You're the idiot that thinks you can get away with everything you do, WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD!

Dogday: I'm leaving and I'm taking Catnap with me!

Bubba, gathering cards: Aaaaand that's enough Monopoly for today.

----------

Poppy: It’s funny how well you and the Archangel get along. Didn’t they hate you at first?

Dogday: (Y/n) hates everybody at first. It’s their way of reaching out to people.

----------

Bobby: lifting weights

Kickin: Wow… She's so intense!

Archangel: I wonder what drives her.

Bobby, internally: Oh I am going to be SO good at giving hugs.

----------

*First two chapters of "Fallen Angel" summarized*

Archangel: I'm allergic to death.

----------

Archangel: Hoppy, I don’t think I can handle any more of your tomfuckery.

Hoppy: Oh yeah? Well I can keep going until you’re all tomfuckered out!

----------

Hoppy: (Y/n), what are you doing tomorrow?

Archangel: Having my day ruined by whatever you’re about to ask me to do.

----------

Archangel: Someone will die.

Dogday: Of fun!

----------

Something crashes

Hoppy: Shoot-

Bobby: running into the room in a panic WHAT FELL?!

Archangel: walking by the room calmly What died?

----------

Archangel: Can you be serious for five minutes?

Kickin: My record is four, but I think I can do it.

----------

Someone with a gun to Archangel's head: What happens if I pull this trigger? Heaven?

Archangel: Bold of you to assume I'll go to Heaven.

----------

Catnap: I like to play this game called nap roulette. I take a nap and don’t set an alarm. Will it be 20 min or 4 hours? Nobody knows. It’s risky and I like it.

----------

Z: When did you become a hero?

Archangel: Um… the moment I saved you from getting killed.

Z: You’re the last person in the galaxy I wanted to rescue me.

Archangel: Well… sucks to be you, don’t it.

----------

Bubba: It’s just that lollipop sticks last longer than the head, even if they’re less flavorful. I’m thinking of paper sticks, because you can peel off the layers with your teeth or leave it there until they fall off naturally, but plastic sticks can be chewed on too or left sticking out like a cigarette. Paper straws can be eaten layer by layer over time though, so they have the edge.

Hoppy, bored: Can’t we just leave while he's distracted?

Archangel, genuinely interested: But what about wooden sticks?

Hoppy: I hate you.

----------

Archangel: I am convinced the Captain and Catnap share a brain cell.

Archangel: And it's not in use very often, it seems.

----------

Archangel: Why am I the bad guy?

Kickin: I don't know, why am I the pretty one? We all have our thing.

----------

Archangel: We’re having a moment, aren’t we?

Z: If by 'a moment' you mean me not wanting to strangle you for the first time since we met, then I guess we are.

----------

Kickin: Dumbest scar stories, go!

Picky: I burned my tongue once drinking tea.

Crafty: I dropped a hair dryer on my leg once and it burned.

Bubba: I have a piece of graphite in my leg for accidentally stabbing myself with a pencil in the first grade.

Bobby: I was taking a cup of noodles out of the microwave and spilled it in my hand and I got a really bad burn.

Archangel: I have emotional scars.

----------

Dogday: What leaves a bigger memory than a passionate kiss?

Archangel: A stab wound.

----------

Archangel: I sense hostility.

Z: Good, because I hate you.

----------

Archangel: slams down an absolute doorstopper of a tome I checked this out weeks ago for a bit of light reading.

Hoppy: This is light?!

----------

Archangel: What’s up with the Captain? He's been laying on the floor for like….an hour now?

Bobby: He's just a little overwhelmed.

Archangel: Why?

Catnap: Z smiled at him.

----------

Literally anyone: Go to hell!

Archangel: Where do you think I come from?

----------

Hoppy: Just trust me. Have I ever put you in an unsafe or uncomfortable situation?

Archangel: All the time.

Hoppy: Then you should be used to it by now.

----------

Archangel: I’m so tired.

Bubba: Did you get to bed late?

Archangel: No.

Bubba: Did you do something strenuous?

Archangel: No.

Bubba: Then why are you tired?

Archangel: I’m alive.

Bubba: Sounds exhausting.

----------

Archangel: Dear Diary, my teen angst bullshit has a body count.

----------

A cult member: Didn't you die?!

Archangel: That was weeks ago. Things change.

----------

Archangel: I’d kill someone if you asked me to.

Dogday: I’m pretty sure you’d kill someone even if I didn’t ask you to.

[mammalsofaction]

FIC COMPILATION

Because I worry about losing track of them

Very First Perryshmirtz wedding drabble (Rated G, a comedy of errors)

Heinz in the Virgin Killer sweater (Rated M, but very nearly explicit)

Save a horse ride a platypus (Rated E, straight-up sex, Human Perry)

We love an Oh moment (Rated G, Perry realizes something literally everyone else figured out forever ago)

Outline of Seeing Double (Rated G, Perry gets hit with the Molecular Separator)

Body Worship drabble (Rated E, yeah what it says on the tin.)

Mind Control (Rated E, set during Remains of the Platypus, the butler inator, implied non con.)

Do it like they do on the Discovery Channel (Rated E, hunger as a form of love, very small breeding kink at the end)

Found you (Rated G, non graphic descriptions of injury. Heinz got into a spot of trouble, and Perry welcomes him home.)

When We Didn't Get Along (Rated G, POV outsider, what the Flynn-Fletcher sees during the infamous Panda related breakup)

I Hurt You (Rated G, second part of the breakup arc series)

Wedding Adventure (Rated T, Perryshmirtz rewrite of Candace's Big Day with human perry. Part 1)

Doof in Perry's shirt (Rated M, highly suggestive)

It'd be weirder if they didn't, right? (Rated T, social media AU) Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, part 4

Wet Shirt Train (Rated T, slightly suggestive, flustered Heinz)

Momentum (Rated T, Outsider POV, OWCA Files)

First Impressions (Rated G, MML/PNF Crossover)

Missing You (Rated T, MML/PNF Crossover)

I Fell For You (Rated T, introspective)

Soap Opera (Rated G, introspective)

Happy Accident (Rated G, poll based fic, another Chio banger)

Same Day Delivery (Rated T, shipping inator)

Slippers (Rated G, peter the landa mentioned)

May I Touch You? (Rated M, my absolute FAVOURITE Chio art work so far, Absolutely obsessed)

Disarmed (Rated E, its yeah. Its smut)

SIKE! GET LOVED IDIOT! (Rated G, chibiverseplat perry, fix it fic)

Early Days (Rated G, non graphic depiction of Injuries)

Sugar, we're going down swingin' (Rated T, Angst, ambiguous ending)

Pushing All My Buttons (Rated M, steamy angry frotting on the stairs)

Bring Me A Dream (Rated G, lazy kissing)

Forbidden Fruit (Rated M, kisses in secrecy)

Domestic (Rated T, Doof 101)

Pop Shop (Rated T, pre-slash sorta)

His man (Rated G, inspired by shippy Perryshmirtz disney t-shirt merch)

I'm gonna need some collateral if you're borrowing Ferb (Rates G, also inspired by Disney merch, just the Flynn-Fletcher siblings one shot crackfic)

A New Perspective (Rated G, reverse POV of the Perryshmirtz Wedding Drabble [1])

Posted on my AO3

Coffee Stains and Creaky Floorboards (Rated T, no archive warnings apply)

You snuck your way right into my heart (Rate T, no archive warnings apply)

You Must Be New (Rated T, Graphic Depictions of Violence):

Don't Need a Dictionary- (Rated T, no archive warnings apply)

Don't Leave Me Here Alone (Rated E, No archive warnings apply)

Lunch Break (Rated M, No Archive Warnings Apply)

Cupid, Cupid Shot Me 5 Times in the Heart (Rated T, No Archive Warnings Apply)

Merry Fuckin' Christmas (Rated M, No Archive Warnings Apply) [SECRET SANTA]

MY HUMAN AU LORE POSTS

1. Human Perry Lore [Part 1] [part 2]

2. Human Sergei Lore

3. Human Pinky Lore

LINKS AND POSTS THAT ARE IMPORTANT TO ME (AND ALSO MY FOLLOWERS AND MUTUALS)

1. Leaked, possibly now deleted song from CSG of Heinz wanting to be a Good Guy

2. Talk to Him, Extended and with Different Lyrics

[solangeloficawards]

solangelo fic awards 2024!

oh hey! were back, and on a new blog! happy year 7 babes!

"best ____" fic nomination forms

best series nomination form

author of the year nomination form

let me know if you find any mistakes with the forms and i will fix it asap. you can also submit fics via message or ask! submissions end 01/31 and voting will (hopefully) be up by 02/02! <3

keep reading for past years, categories, & guidlines

2024 categories:

best fluff (award for the fluffiest, sweetest fics!)

best au (award for the best alternete universe or trope fics!)

best canon compliant (award for best demigod-centric universe following straight along with the classic riordan universe!)

best angst (award for the most heart-wrenching, angsty fic!)

returning category! best oneshot (award for one-chatper, under 5k word fics for our short story writers!)

new and improved! best wip (award for your favorite unfinished or abandoned multi-chaptered fics! previously best unfinished chaptered)

best misc (any fic that you dont think fits well into any of the other categories! this could include crackfics, crossover fics, miscellaneous oneshots, or any of your favorite tropes!)

best series (award for multiple fics within one series that all relate to the same plot/universe)

author of the year (to show your favorite author some appreciation!)

#rip chaptered finished and gift, forever in our hearts

references:

from the past: 2018 winners. 2019 winners. 2020 winners.  2021 winners. 2022 winners, 2023 winners

every fic masterlist: 2018 masterlist, 2019 masterlist, 2020 masterlist, 2021 masterlist, 2022 masterlist, 2023 masterlist

guidelines:

you can submit your own work

you can submit as many or as little fics as you’d like for any of the categories. the more the better!

fics published at any date can be submitted; however ,fics submitted after the deadline will not be included

fics cannot be any of the following: fics that have already won in previous years, non solangelo centric, orphan or anonymous fics (if i dont know the authors idk if they want to be included), explicit nsfw or any mention of underage nsfw (nsfw fics otherwise will be tagged as so), rape/non-con fics, graphic depictions of suicide, contains unnecessary racism/homophobia/trasnphobia or any other hateful content, harry potter aus, and any other content with homophobic or transphobic origins. fics submitted that violate any of these will not be included

you can submit multiple fics per category, however please do not submit the same fic for more than one category (if this does happen, i’ll just decide what category it best fits)

there is also a chance your fic may change categories from where you submitted it. this is only to help your fic do better, but you can let us know if you dont want that to happen

you are allowed to nominate fics that were nominated previous years; however, please do not nominate a winning fic from last year. the previous years nominations list and winners list can be found above (they will not be included in case you miss this, but if you do know please just save me some time

in the case that you do/someone else has submitted your work, you are allowed promote yourself, however you cannot offer anything in return for people to vote for your work. theres no prize for winning besides personal satisfaction so theres really no need

please do not be upset at me or anyone involved if you don't win. theres always next year!

all submissions are anonymous. a google sign-in will be required in order to vote when nominations do come out to ensure everyone is voting only once, but emails will not be collected or distributed! ou can always nominate or vote via ask (wont publish but ill lyk i received it) or direct message if you wish

please let us know if you see anyone violating the rules! we'll handle it from there!!

if you have any other questions, you can check out our faq! you can also message me or put it in an ask!

all relating posts for this year are tagged with #fic awards 2024! good luck :)

[w1dowz-w3b]

Sooo, if I do end up writing eventually, I wanna know what y'all would prefer lol

[annabtg]

Fic Year in Review 2024

Tagged by the wonderful @blitheringmcgonagall, thank you! ❤️❤️

I published much less fic this year than the previous ones - only 19,213 words, or 15 short oneshots. All new stuff, except about half of The Three-Minute Initiative which had been started in Jilytober 2023 (and still needed some rewriting).

There are two other major projects that I worked on during the year - my multichapter AU Revanche, currently at ~17k, and my long oneshot semi-crackfic Oh My God, She's Insane, currently at ~4k - so I have more than double of what I published, to be released hopefully in 2025!

It's been a year with ups and downs in my writing mood - mostly downs, it felt, but then I've also written some of my favourite works ever this year! I also branched out a bit, in style and content, which I think did me good. I got several Jily Awards - more than I ever dared to expect - and most importantly, I got a lot of love throughout the year from all of you! My stats might not have been significantly high for most of my fics, but your comments and support have been invaluable ❤️❤️❤️

Breakdown of my fics under the cut!

In chronological order:

Fixed Luck (1.3k, rated T): Canon compliant, Order era. Jily deal with addiction to Felix Felicis. Angsty af, no happy ending. One of my favourites of the year. Favourite Angst award.

The Three-Minute Initiative (2k, rated T): Written as a late entry for Jilytober 2023. Muggle AU, Lily goes to a speed dating event and gets to meet with all of the Marauders in turn. Flirty and fun.

Drunk With Power (746 words, rated G): James the insufferable Head Boy. Written as a fun way to celebrate my appointment as a @jilymicrofics Discord mod. Also flirty and fun and a favourite of mine.

The Roe Deer And The Knight (2.1k, rated G): Fairy tale style Jily for March 2024 @jilychallenge. I LOVED writing in this style and reworking Jily's story to fit the standard fairy tale tropes and format. Another favourite.

Iacta Alea Est (744 words, rated G): Julius Caesar AU in honour of the Ides of March. It fit surprisingly well! Slight crack and angst.

The Big Little Moments (2.5k, rated M): Jily's wedding afternoon - their first day in their new home. Super fluffy with light smut. A delight to write and a top-tier favourite. Favourite Fluff award.

Attention (300 words, rated G): SWM from James's POV, written for James's birthday.

so much blood. (268 words, rated T): The Sectumsempra scene from HBP, from Draco's POV. Written as an exercise in second person POV. It was unexpectedly fascinating to write!

Anemoia (748 words, rated G): Missing moment from the beginning of HBP. A hint of Hinny as Harry goes through the photo album with his parents' pictures.

Crush (712 words, rated G): Written for the Mystery May Microfic 2024 event. Canon compliant, Hogwarts era. Mary Macdonald wants to find out who is the mystery person her best friend Lily has a crush on. Fluffy and fun.

Verses Written In '74 (3.1k, rated E): Sirius/Lily, Sirius POV. Lily spends a night with Sirius - her ex-boyfriend, best friend and best man to her wedding, who will always be in love with her. Angsty, smutty, super atmospheric. A favourite in the most self-indulgent way.

The Lady Of Kini (963 words, rated G): Inspired by my holiday in Syros and the statue of the Mermaid Madonna - an AU where Lily is the mermaid patroness of the coast, and James is the sailor she's supposed to save from drowning. Poetic and atmospheric, a piece I've also shared with many of my offline friends. I love it.

crawl home (877 words, rated G): Written for the @jilytoberfest 2024 Masquerade event and based on Hozier's Work Song. James dies to protect Lily and Harry, and his death saves them - but no grave can hold his body down. Angst with a happy ending, very atmospheric in an eerie, creepy sort of way. Another top-tier favourite. Favourite Canon Divergent Short, Favourite Angst and Favourite Microfic awards.

The Professional (941 words, rated T): Written for Jilytoberfest 2024, prompt: “Maybe we can find out what the hell your problem is over dinner sometime”. I always thought a corporate Jily AU enemies to lovers would be the ideal setting for this quote!

All right, Potter? (1.8k, rated G): A very belated entry for Jilyweek 2024, prompt: Flip the Script. SWM but Lily is the bully and James is the prefect. It was a fun challenge to play with the inverted dynamics and still make it all fit the characters as we know them - it took some effort but I think it worked in the end!

My plans for 2025:

Finish Oh My God, She's Insane, and either also finish Revanche or make enough progress on it to start posting.

I have signed up for the @greenhouse-seven Be My Valentine Exchange and the Jilymicrofics Annual Fic Exchange and I'm eager to receive my assignments for them! So at least two fics to be expected in February.

I have also signed up for the January Jilychallenge, theme: Destiny. No pressure!

I have about 1.5k written on my November 2024 Jilychallenge fic (tentative title: Couples Therapy) but I've hit a block on it. Hopefully I'll finish it sometime during the year.

I definitely have plans to participate in this year's Mystery Microfic May as well!

Whatever else strikes my fancy! Whether an old WIP or a new idea.

Tagging @arliedraws, @neverenoughmarauders, @ksarasara, @harryissuchalittleshit!

[eldewinddolly]

FowlFest : TLC AU

I've been wanting to take part in Fowlfest but wouldn't dare to ; I feel like I don't really belong in the Fowldom but that's a me problem. So, I've been thinking about the AU prompt ! My most beloved AU is more of a canon-divergence, but I just love to imagine how things would have turned out had Artemis gotten his memories back by himself after TEC. I've written a whole ass fanfic about this though, and it's a bit off-topic so I won't expand on that ; still it's the first thing that came to mind. BUT ! To get to the point, one thing I've been wondering about a lot lately : what if, when Artemis and Holly (and the demons) came back from Hybras, they didn't arrive three years after they went missing, but three years before ? Just like. Imagine that. To avoid causing time paradoxes, Artemis and Holly would have to hide in seclusion for a few years to not runinto their younger selves ; the good thing is, if they manage to wait it out, they would be able to reappear in Taipei right after vanishing, so Butler and the Fowl family would at least be spared the anguish. But they'd still have to hang around for about three years in a timeline where they already exist, and try not to wreck the space-time continuum. Holly would definitely want to try to save Julius from Opal, which Artemis probably wouldn't allow her to do because it would absolutely break the timeline. What if they can't resist trying to fix the mistakes of the past ? What if they decide to go back to their lives even with their other selves still being there - how would that go ? Also, I said three years, but it could be more. They could return right before the Fowl Siege, or even earlier than that ; Artemis would have a very hard time deciding whether to try and not have his father be captured by the Mafiya. Alternatively they could even appear as far as like the seventies, but that's a completely different beast of an AU altogether. Lame crackfic telenovela plot-twist in that case : Artemis II ends up being Artemis I and the universe explodes. what the hell did my brain just suggest There's also the fact they are coming back from Hybras with demons ; can the demons just join the People ? Then the whole initial plot of TLC would be very different. I guess I like this idea because it could go many ways depending on the genre you want to explore. It can be a dystopian, lovecraftian horror thriller if the timeline starts unraveling ; or a funny, crazy time-travelling adventure with many shenanigans ; but also an intimist, philosophical tale about Artemis and Holly being stuck in and out of their world, forced to live like ghosts while another version of them lives their life and makes the same mistakes they did, having no friend to reach out to but each other. It can be sad, but also wholesome - them ending up admitting that what they went through all these years made them who they are, and even when given the chance they wouldn't change anything. I don't ship them but I like that it would be an opportunity to deepen and strengthen their bond whether platonically or romantically depending on your preference.

Anyhoo, that's where I'm at. Sorry it's a bit lame and probably been thought about before :(

[storyweaverofgondor]

Which Hazbin charactors have an AO3 account

Niffty: She has an AO3 account. She has had one for years and is a prolific author. (Mostly smut and torture)

Husk: He only has an account because Niffty makes him beta read and comment on her fics which are all restricted. There are things he can never unsee.

Angel Dust: he's written five stories. A couple of oneshots Cherri dared him to upload when he was high and a couple of vent fics. Then he has one long fic he's been picking away at for years for a little known comic he read when he was alive. He has one very devoted fan who thinks his comments about being dead and in Hell is a bit.

Charlie: She hasn't posted any stories because she gets too in her head. But she loves fluff.

Vaggie: She got an account to comment on Charlie's stories. Which she never uploaded. Now she's fallen down a crackfic rabbit hole with no idea how to get out.

Lucifer: He uploaded the true story of Eden because he misinterpreted a suggestion by his therapist. He got like five supportive comments within an hour and cried. He's now writing musical theater AU long fics. He doesn't know how he got here. But he doesn't want to leave.

Alastor: What is 'AO3'? What is . . . fanfiction?

Vox: Prolific RadioStatic smut writer. It is his biggest secret. Everybody knows about it.

Valentino: Primarily 'Everyone Lives' Fix it Fics with a few fluffy feel good fics. Nothing rated over 'Teen' and all have 'No Archive Warnings Apply'. Nobody believes he actually wrote these fics.

@tending-the-hearth

[ninjas-and-coffee]

What I love rn about the Ninjago Live action panic is that it has almost nothing about the plot. It's about the collective and primal fear of Chris Pratt and whitewashing.

I have seen a couple plot posts, but like there was nothing to prepare us for the crackfic high-school au of the other movie. So I don't think there's any need to try and guess the plot.

Maybe we should make our own movie. Like guys, we could make the anime everyone lowkey wants from the creators. Almost everyone I know has some version of a plot fixing rewrite or retelling thats almost beat for beat with the source material. But like better with longer character arcs and more cultural accuracy.

Like besides humanity's allergy to group projects, why don't we just do it???.

Like I'll start with the basis of my retelling: S1 but with an already teenage Lloyd releasing the serpentine as a misguided attempt to gain his father's attention and being a shadow villain to the serpentine problem. Followed by a zuko style redemption arc when it is accidentally revealed that he's the green ninja in a combat situation.

The first half of the season is about the teams backstories and picking up the lore crumbs on the serpentine and why Garmadon and Wu separated while trying to figure out who has motive, and opportunity to release the serpentine. And since the Golden weapons are conduits for their power. Their true potential is learning to control their power separately from their weapons by becoming "whole" and reaching their full potential. The second half of the season reveals Lloyd's story and his shift from causing harm to gain attention to just asking for it and learning to be loved. (Yes, and sorry its Lloyd centric but he's the villain of the story untill...) Then the serpentine realize they're better together than apart and relase the Great Devourer and you essentially know the rest.

It would have a rather grim/serious tone and probably have some mixture of the demonslayer or attack on titan style. Leaning into the Japanese lore and possibly leaving hints about the nature of Oni and Dragons as more myth and legend than fact. Until a *minor god (the devourer) is released and this leaves the door open for other things to slowly become real. Personally I think the dragons could have been more sentient and revered than was shown, and I'd probably change Lloyd's name to be something Japanese with "Lloyd Garmadon" as a title he gave himself to be more like his father and it just sticks in the others minds so they keep calling him that until he's ready to shed that skin. I'd probably change the others names too or at least make them region specific. I hate hate hate childs play so I'd delete it. And Nya would take up her samurai training after being kidnapped so she doesn't feel like a burden on her brother. And uh Cole will be gay but due to the time period he feels unsafe telling others and learns to trust them. Also I'd probably kick the time period back to late Edo era Japan because the way of the ninja was still studied but becoming harder to come by. And gives a reason why there are no other Ninjutstu masters or students running around. So they're be reviving a somewhat dying art and be praised for it by commoners.

So now I ask. If YOU could retell Ninjago in a episodic anime how would you do it? What does it follow? What would you remove and why?

[sorryimananti-romantic]

MOOT GAME: " make up a trope for your moots and their biases. doesn’t need to be romantic. can be crackfic/funny/anything you want ^ㅇ(๑>◡<๑)ㅇ^ "

doing moots who i've interacted with to a certain degree and moots who write! (as always, this is tough and i have no idea what i just did)

disclaimer: this is very random but if you feel it's right for you, lemme know 😭

@eightmakesonebraincell x unhinged psychopath yunho "i can fix him" but yunho unfixes loren instead <3 (im gonna write this trope brb)

@hwaightme x ceo!seonghwa -- lovers to strangers to lovers au, "there is always a second chance, you just have to be brave enough to take it" (sorry for the angst bai)

@starrysvn x wooyoung -- shy girl x loud boy, a little cracked but very wholesome friends to lovers (it just feels right? 😭)

@sungbeam x wooyoung -- crackheads on a mission, fake dating (from our 2? interactions and recent moot happening i've assumed things i hope i hit a spot or sth lmao)

@atxxzist x choi san -- college badboy au academic rivals to lovers (i cannot not think of san when i think about you heh)

[whoreforsexymen]

𝔸𝕤𝕜(𝕤)/ℝ𝕖𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕤𝕥(𝕤) 𝕀𝕟𝕗𝕠 + 𝔽𝔸ℚ

ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪʟʟɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ?

Anything! This blog is mainly for SMUT/NSFW, though.

I will be posting any SFW content on @whoreforsexymen2

Will write drabbles, flash-fics, oneshots, two-shots, headcanons, imagines, etc.

YOUR AGE MUST BE LISTED IN YOUR BIO. AND, IF REQUESTING ANONYMOUSLY, YOU MUST STATE YOUR AGE. OTHERWISE YOUR REQUEST WILL BE DELETED.

Only willing to write Self-Insert, whether it's 2nd Person POV or 3rd person POV. I might consider character x character if the pairing is one I'm okay with.

[READ CAREFULLY]

THINGS I WILL NOT WRITE ABOUT

Necrophilia

Pedophilia (All characters must already be 18+. I will not write for characters that are minors, even if I am writing them to be over 18.)

Vore/Cannibalism

Incest (yes, even step siblings, etc.)

Active Self Harm

Beastiality (depending. I'm a monster lover through and through, so take this with a grain of salt. But obviously, no real animals of any kind.)

(There are more but I can’t think rn. Will update as I go along.)

[Anyway! Onto the good stuff!!!]

ᴡʜᴏ ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪʟʟɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ꜰᴏʀ?

(𝔸𝕣𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕖)

Vander

Silco

Jayce

Viktor

Sevika

Jinx

Vi

Mel

Bolbok

Ekko

Benzo

Basically anyone, lol.

ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴋɪɴᴅꜱ ᴏꜰ ɢᴇɴʀᴇꜱ/ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇꜱ ᴄᴀɴ ᴡᴇ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ?

I'm open to any! Some honorable mentions are:

Angst

Fluff

AU's (any kind)

Romance

Hurt/Comfort

Fix-it-fic

Songfic

Crackfic

Prompt fic (See Prompt List)

And lots more! I'm not too picky.

ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴘʀᴏɴᴏᴜɴꜱ ᴄᴀɴ ᴡᴇ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ?

Any!! Fem, masc, GN!, idc! I am in no way trying to be non-inclusive, but Neopronouns may throw me off a bit. We'll see what happens if I get any requests with those.

I love y'all so much and can't wait to get some requests! Don't be shy!! I'm sure I'm also missing stuff in this post, so if y'all want to inquire about something not listed, feel free to drop an ask anyway!! <3

[Updated on 11/23/24]