#i feel like this is too short for ao3 but my brain wouldn't let me do anything else until i got this down so

[pedropascallovebot]

Challenging

Luigi Mangione x reader

✧˖°.

a/n: i do my fanfic writing on ao3 now- including ceo killer smut, but i saw that blindfold video and i knew what i had to do and i knew the tumblr girlies were the crowd for this. i'm so sorry i don't know which depraved part of my brain this came from it just happened

cw: blindfolding, edging, author whipping her head back and forth as luigi and reader go back and forth on who the hell is the dom here

⋆˙⟡

It had started off as a joke, really.

Well, no- not a joke. When you quietly told your boyfriend you'd thought he looked "bite-able" in that blindfold, you had said so with a laugh to give yourself the excuse of being totally joking if he wasn't down to let you try the whole concept out in the privacy of his bedroom.

It normally would've been disappointing to leave your friend group's get-together so early- after all, you had movies and drinks planned, but wouldn't you know; an hour after your innocent comment in his ear, your neighbor coincidentally needed a ride to the hospital. Crazy how these things work out.

No, it was not disappointment you felt this time. An all too familiar sensation built between your thighs when his hand gripped the steering wheel, driving a little too fast back home.

You had almost asked your friend for the blindfold, but then you would of had to hear her ask why you'd need one when you were going to drop your neighbor off at the hospital, and you figured it'd be easier to just make do with something from your closet. Which you would- your brain was already brewing with ideas of different scraps of fabric you could use as a makeshift blindfold.

Back to your current predicament: soaking through your underwear, Luigi's fingers the star of the show you're playing in your mind as he drives you both home, and the bulge in his jeans.

"Tell me what's on your mind, love," he smirks, and then he's dragging his free hand that's not operating a moving vehicle up your thigh. Your breath hitches as he runs a thumb gently over the fabric covering your skin.

You stay silent, because if you speak you might just break immediately and beg for him to pull over and fuck you stupid on the side of the road.

He hmphs, delivering a firm smack to your thigh, and you let out a whimper at the stinging.

Luigi is normally a very safe driver, but it is nothing short of an absolute miracle that there were no cops out on the road to pull him over for a speeding ticket. It feels like you're parking and pulling out your apartment keys before the stinging sensation stops lingering.

You both say hello to your neighbor and his dog, about to go on a walk, and then shut the door.

"He looks remarkably well for someone needing to go the hospital," you joke, reaching your hands up to thread your fingers through Luigi's curls.

He leans into your touch, pinning you against the wall by the door in the process. This leads to your mouth being absolutely devoured by his own; your boyfriend is kissing you so desperately that when you pull away, a whine releasing from the back of his throat.

That blue checkered shirt, while fitting him exceptionally well, is unbuttoned and abandoned on the floor before you even drag him to the bed, wasting no time turning on any light except the bare minimum to see his shaking hands and achingly hard dick straining in his pants.

Pushing him down on the bed, you climb in on top of him, straddling his hips and shoving his shoulders down so his head meets the pillow. His arms go to find the hem of your own shirt, assisting you in pulling it off and then reaching to get the rest of your clothes off.

When the both of you are left in your underwear, your wetness is more prominent to Luigi, and he takes a breath, going to reach to help you out, but you're off his lap and hurrying to your closet.

"Baby," he mutters, his hand going to rest over his boxers.

Bingo. An old scarf- or, to better describe it, the idea of a scarf, because you had started crocheting it and then just never finished. However, it was perfect for the debauchery you had planned for you and your boyfriend.

"What's wrong?" you asked sweetly, stalking over to him and slowly climbing back on the bed to resume your position. "What can I do to help you out?"

You take his hand off his bulge, resting it on his side, and he shifts, his breath deepening.

"Need you so bad, please," he mutters. You drop the scarf while you place kisses down his jawline, eventually making your way to his ear.

"Lay back for me."

He obeys.

Luigi's eyes drop to the scarf, a smile building in the corners of his mouth makes you blush. There's no way you'll be able to keep your composure and not let him fuck your brains out, but you gotta keep it together long enough that you can get your boyfriend whining and moaning for your touch. You press another kiss to his lips, and tie the blindfold around his head, securing it in the back before ruffling his hair and grabbing his chin with your fingers.

"Not that you would know, but every single girl there was staring at you with that blindfold on," you remarked, your other hand running down his chest.

"Is someone j-" Luigi's voice falters when your fingers reach the waistband of his boxers, tracing over them.

"Hmm?"

You continue running your fingers over the skin, not bothering to take the fabric off until he can manage to form some words for you.

"If you were j- fuck- if you were jealous, you hid it very well," he says, hips raising so you can slide off his boxers.

Not jealous. Maybe a little annoyed, sure. But those girls were back there, and you were right here, with Luigi on your bed, your name falling from his lips, begging you to touch him.

"Or maybe that's why you were practically in my lap afterwards, huh?" he continues. "Wanting to show everyone there that I'm yours? Don't wanna share me?"

You're the one on top, you remind yourself so you don't melt in his hand and let him roll over to pin you down on the sheets. You look down at his dick, hard and standing at attention, waiting to be dipped into your warm, wet pussy.

Not yet. Not yet.

You move your mouth back down to his neck, right behind his ear, and bite down lightly.

Luigi gasps, but you quickly shush him and repeat the action on the other side of his face, a little harder this time.

"I told you I wanted to bite you," you admit, smirking when he throws his head back at the soothing kisses you leave over the teeth marks.

He twitches when your thumb finally runs over the tip, hands fidgeting at his sides. You watch his mouth open and close when you gather some of the precum, spreading it all over his length.

Breathtaking. He's truly the most beautiful man you've ever seen.

You feel more wetness gather between your thighs when you look at how hard he is, and how muscular his thighs are, and how you'd love to lower yourself on to him and take what you wanted. Instead, you wrap your fingers around him, pumping the length until his hands go to grab your waist.

You freeze, and Luigi whines again, bucking his hips up into your hand.

"Did I tell you that you could move, baby?" you scold him again, your free hand grabbing the nape of his neck, moving your lips closer to his. When he doesn't answer, you ask again.

"No- no, you didn't, fuck- baby, baby please keep going-"

Luigi's voice grows more desperate, filling you with a high that feels intoxicating. His precum soaks your fingers, his breath shaky- you want him so bad. Patience is becoming an unbelievably challenging attribute.

"Be a good boy and keep your hands to your side," you order.

He does. You watch the way his face contorts as you make him feel good, reveling in his moans. You continue stroking him until his whines get to a higher pitch, until he's involuntarily thrusting up into your hand.

You don't think you've ever been this wet.

When you know he's about to cum, you slowly pull your fingers away, licking all the precum off of them.

"No-" he protested, squirming and gripping the sheets so he doesn't reach and finish the job for you. "I was good- please- I wanna cum so bad, please."

You run your thumb over his cheek, tutting at the desperation in his voice.

"Maybe if you sit still, I'll think about it."

Maybe your newfound confidence is due to your own overwhelming urge to orgasm. Hearing him fall apart under you like this certainly helps as well. You adjust yourself in his lap, gripping his arms to support yourself in your quest to get a bit more comfortable, and then you pull of your own underwear.

However, you don't slide him inside you. Your own fingers go to run up and down your slit, and you sigh at how wet you are. It's incredibly tempting to use them to get yourself off, but knowing that Luigi's are right in front of you makes yours worthless by comparison. So you opt for grinding your pussy against his thigh, coating it in your slick.

You take a breath when you hit just the right spot, and you don't even say anything when your boyfriends hand shoots out to your waist to stabilize you and guide your body.

He whimpers when you grip his shoulders, quickening your pace as you use his thigh. Any other thought that wasn't about cumming like this was out the window, and it didn't help Luigi was coaxing it out of you, cursing and whimpering for him to let him help you out, for you to just take his blindfold off-

You snap back into reality before you finish, and with every single ounce of self-control you can muster, you pull yourself back.

Dipping your fingers into your pussy, you collect the wetness that's dripping out of you and bring it to Luigi's lips.

"Open," you command, and he eagerly takes your digits in his mouth, licking them clean and whimpering at how good you tasted.

It will be a cold day in hell before you forget that vision: him blindfolded, hand gripping your wrist and sucking on your fingers like it was candy.

You tug his hands back down to his side, ordering for him to keep them there, but he speaks up.

"Please, I need to feel you," he cries, squirming underneath.

You find a little bit of sympathy for him, because he asked so nicely.

So you only bring him to the edge one more time, as opposed to your original plan. He's trembling underneath you, whines and whimpers tumbling out of his mouth when you pull away again right before he cums, but you go back down again, this time with your mouth.

Luigi fucking sobs, hands pawing at the sheets and your hair and everywhere he can reach as you take all of him in, licking and bobbing your head up and down.

When he cums, it's everywhere. You think you have most of it in your mouth, swallowing it with the feeling of absolute ecstasy running through your body, but it's on his stomach, on yours, in your hair..

"You should see yourself, Lu," you tease, collecting the white off his chest and licking your fingers clean.

He doesn't respond for a minute, too out of breath. When he finally comes back around, he lets out a relieved sigh.

"Was the blindfold really that arousing?" he half-joked, rubbing his forehead and getting a little bit of cum on the edge of the scarf still tied around his eyes.

You shake your head yes, but then realize he still can't see you. When you go to answer him verbally, he starts again.

"Take it off me," he orders quietly, and you know you're about to get it.

When you finally let him have a look at you, he smirks.

"There you are."

He looks so angelic laying there, that you almost forget you haven't finished yet, and there's an ache between your legs that's begging to be quelled.

"Let's get this thing off you," he continues, taking the bra that you hadn't bothered to remove before and discarding it on the floor.

Luigi scoots you closer up his body, and you realize where he's going with this.

"Baby-" you plead, whimpering when his hands dig a little too hard into your hips. He smiles innocently up at you, the same kind of smile you gave him before blindfolding him and ruining his orgasms.

"M'just gonna make you feel good," he mumbles, and you gasp when he pulls you up onto his face. "Be a good girl for me."

[izzy-b-hands]

Mini s2 blackhands fic-ish thing below the cut

"Fuck," Ed tugs at the rope, then at his belled collar. "Shit. Okay. Not ideal, but-"

The wind gusts; the rope pulls, and his collar gets tugged with it.

He's more or less alone on deck. Everyone else is busy with other chores (not a bad thing, despite being wrecked to shit, the ship's starting to look pretty good), far enough away they can't hear him gag and choke when the rope tugs again.

It's his fault, for not minding the end of the rope as he tied it on to the rest of the rigging, for not making sure it couldn't whip up and get caught under the just loose enough edge of his collar-

A gloved hand lands on the rope, pulling downwards to relieve the tension and let him breathe again.

He makes careful eye contact with Izzy, letting their eyes meet for only a moment. "You don't have to help me."

"No," Izzy sighs. He's slightly off-balance, leaning more with the movement of the ship to stay upright, but how much of that is his adjusting to moving on his new prosthetic versus the result of the rum and whiskey bottles he's been polishing off is uncertain. "I don't."

"They'd tell you not to."

"They might," Izzy shrugs, as he lifts his other hand, and saws through the rope with his knife.

The rope slips away from them, and Ed can finally take good, deep breaths again.

With the tense rope gone to hang onto, Izzy stumbles and trips forward.

He doesn't even have to think about catching him. He just does.

They pause there. Ed helping to hold Izzy up as he gets his balance back. Izzy, holding on to him tightly, but his eyes only on the collar.

"No more rigging work for you," Izzy finally says as he adjusts to stand beside Ed, only partially leaning on him. "Not until that's off. I don't want that happening to you again. If anyone else has anything to say about it-"

"I tell them it came from the orders of the first mate," Ed interrupts gently. "Um. Thank you, for this-"

He hasn't fully let go of Izzy, yet. Nor has Izzy pulled away any further. He's steady now, but Ed's hand still holds at his waist.

Not the first time he's let his hands linger there, after all. It's still, after everything, a comfortable spot for them to be.

"Don't thank me," Izzy sighs, a deep, aching, tired sign. "Just stay alive. For the sake of the Captain."

'And you too?' is what he wants to ask Izzy. But he doesn't.

He forces himself to let go of Izzy, adjusts the collar to be slightly tighter while he watches, and nods. "I can do that. I think. Gonna try, at least."

"All any of us can do," Izzy says. "No more rigging."

"No more rigging," Ed agrees, and watches him walk away towards the Captain's quarters.

He still cares. He shouldn't still care. Ed wants to pull Izzy back and beg him to explain it, how in the fuck does he still care about him after all of this?

But the words strangle themselves in his throat, and there's railing to be painted, easier than trying to force the words out.

Ed kneels to look for the paint brush and small box of paint that's been getting tossed about the deck with each wave, and tries not to shudder when the bell on his collar jingles.

[theyeid20]

"Three Times" (Tomas "Smoke" Vrbada x reader) AFAB

Hi! So this is the first time I actually had the inspiration AND the discipline to start and finish a one shot fic I had in mind, and it came from a stupid and horny idea I had at 2 a.m lmao

English is not my first language so if there are any mistakes I can correct or tags I can add please let me know!

Anyways enjoy my writing based on my sleepy brain lol.

Also I published this on AO3 if you're interested.

Tags: #Missionary position, #oral sex (fem received) #mating press, #gentle to rough sex, rough sex. #Vaginal sex.

Unfolding all the clothes you had packed was more exhausting than you expected. You along with the other Earthrrealm protectors arrived at the Shaolin Temple for training, you never knew when more dangers would be on your way so Liu Kang reunited all of his warriors to start training together and be stronger.

You felt a knock on your door, and after a few seconds, Tomas entered your room, wearing his training clothes and not wearing his mask, shamefully showing his expression of mischief.

You are confused at his expression, normally he would show you his genuine smile without any problem anytime he would see you, but now he seemed like he was hiding something from you.

"Smoke?".-you spoke, slowly going toward him to see what was going through his mind better while he closed the door of your room. You looked at him while putting your hand on his chest, a normal gesture you would do when you're about to kiss him.

"Is everything alright, why aren't you speaking?"

Before you could even come closer to him, he trapped you in his arms and started to kiss you, going slowly from short kisses to a passionate long one. Your tongues were touching and fighting for dominance, one of his hands is placed in your head so you wouldn't escape the kiss, and the other one is in your back, his arm powerfully grabbing you to surrender at his trap.

The make out section you were having was cut for the lack of air from both of you, and as you were heavily breathing and gasping for air, Smoke led you effortlessly to your bed, as now he was on top of you, grabbing your face with one hand and the other one your ass, kissing you and exploring the inside of your mouth with his tongue. You are still processing what just happened but with no complaints. During your relationship with Tomas, he was never as straightforward to initiate sex as he is doing now, and you are ok with that since your sex life is still good, yet you were enjoying this new approach.

"Mm....Tomas...".-you moaned, while having your arms around his neck, your hands brushing his soft hair, and your legs in his hips, you are feeling his increasing erection, his hard cock in between your legs rubbing against your clit. You started to get impatient as you were taking off your clothes, so is Tomas. Still kissing each other, both of you end up being naked.

Smoke massage your breasts, your nipples at this point were hard, sensitive at his touch, he was massaging your nipples with enough force to send chills through your spine but not to hurt you, and to give you that delicious sensation of pleasure. He started sucking one of them while still delicately massaging the other one.

At this point you were being slightly louder, his movements were too good for your body to ignore. His lips now stopped sucking your nipple, and now was trading kisses from your stomach and now leading to your private area. His fingers were entering your pussy, and since you got really wet with his previous touch his fingers entered slowly without any problem, his thumb is carefully and teasingly touching your clitoris, provoking you moans and to be louder at every movement.

You almost screamed when you instead of his thumb, you felt his tongue in your clit, still doing slow movement but increasing his speed, sucking and licking while his fingers curled inside you, searching for that sensible spot on you.

The sloppy sounds from your vagina and your legs staring tightening around his head, along with your moans felt like music to his ears. He sucked your clit and flicked his tongue across it. His tongue was drenched with saliva and your juices. Your now hypersensitive clitoris was red from overstimulation and you are trembling as your body is reaching its limit. His fingers are still moving inside you, now hitting that delicious spot on you. His other hand was placed in your thigh.

Tomas was eating your pussy to the point of you seeing stars, your entire body was shaking from the good feeling of his tongue in your most sensitive area. His dick was hard as a rock, and precum was leaking from his tip, he was hard from only your moans, and knowing he was the one making you feel like this, he grows impatient form his desire to only just fuck you there, but your pleasure was a priority to him always.

After what felt like eternity to you, you came unexpectedly in his mouth, your whole body shaken after your intense orgasm, you didn't realize your hand were grabbing his hair, you had chunks of his hair in your fists, you opened your hands to let go of his hair, worried that you might have hurted him.

"S-sorry I didn't mea-".-you were silenced by his gruff voice, who gestured you to hush, his pupils were occupying the mayority of his eyes. His lust and desire for you were not finished yet.

His still didn't say a word, and was only guiding you with gestures. Crawling back to you, and putting himself in top again, he for a moment, admired you, your beauty, he thought to himself how lucky he was to have you in his life, and how you were there for him In moments when he most needed. After a few moments of him admiring you, he then kissed you, with more love than he can ever show you in a kiss. You were feeling your juices in his mouth, meanwhile he grabbed your legs and separated them, grabbing his dick and guiding it to your entrance. He started moving his tip in circles in your clitoris, sending shivers to your body.

"Mm.. stop teasing!".-you please impatiently now.

He still didn't say anything, and he granted you your wish and slowly entered his cock into your vagina, putting your legs in his shoulder to get a better angle at your G-spot. The sensation of his veins in your walls were making you go crazy, as his slow movements were making you go more inpatient for him to just fuck you hard and make you forget everything but his big cock thrusting mercilessly into your tight pussy.

After moments of him being gentle while penetrating you, and seeing your red face and your moans increasing their volumes, he started going faster, and keeping his pace.

Your moans were starting to get louder as his movements were getting rougher, not focusing on his velocity but now on finding your sensible spot, getting into a more slow but rough pace to pleasure you, he watches as your face was getting lost on lust and pleasure, his dick stretching your walls in a delicious way, his tip abusing your cervix while hitting now your right spot.

You squirmed and mumbled nonsense, while he was whimpering from feeling your tight and wet walls against his rubbing dick. Your tongue is almost falling out of your mouth from the movements of his hips towards your entrance. Your abused pussy was barely taking his length and your body was shaking like crazy from his movements, entering and leaving, and repeating the process this time getting faster as he found your sensitive spot in your cervix.

His balls slapped against you ass, the bed now hitting the wall and his groans mixing with your whines and moans of pleasure. Smoke was feeling cocky, your moans and praises encouraged him further to keep his pace. Your hands are on his back, your nails scratching his back.

Your pussy tighting his dick and milking it to get more precum from it, as Smoke was now getting louder and louder along with you. His movements getting less erratic and his hips movements were getting stronger, ramming himself into you. You cried in pleasure rolling your eyes back and clenching around him. Your orgasm is again taking control of your body and you are screaming from pleasure.

"Tomas Oh My...God!".-your trembling lips could barely say a word after the second intense orgasm you had. Your walls are clenching Smoke's cock, with the sensation of tightness on his dick, his sensitive tip was now feeling extra slimy from the precum and the juice from your vagina combined. With your walls and your orgasms clenching and milking his dick, Smoke finally let out a loud moan and came inside you, his cum loading inside you.

He pulled out from you slowly, so his seed would still be inside you, and to not ruin the shed that are already wet with you sweat. You and Smoke did your best to catch breath and to finally for you to relax in bed and to look at each other with love in your eyes.

"Tomas"-.You finally said in a shaky voice. "That was... amazing".- while hugging him, you yawned, getting really tired after a good section of sex with your partner. "This is the first time you straight up went directly to the action eh? Not complaining at all".

"After Johnny made me play a game with the others about not speaking until someone said my name three times, let's say I had an idea"-..Tomas finally said, with a smile on his face, he started laughing looking at your confused face. "Everyone but me had someone to say their names, we couldn't help each other, so I came to you, and I can see that you like it"

"....Are you kidding me?".-you couldn't believe it. Your boyfriend had probable gave you the best fuck of your life and it's started because of one of the stupidest reasons? For a Game Johnny made him play? Well you are not complaining at all, it is hilarious after all.

[brbsoulnomming]

Tell Me Sweet Little Lies Part 13

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | AO3

-----

Eddie wakes up in the morning - or at least, he thinks it's morning, though he guesses he could still be losing track of time, and it might still be the same day. His head lulls automatically to the side, gaze seeking out the hospital bed next to him like it's second nature, and -

Steve's gone.

There's no one there, the bed clean and empty with sheets all tucked and a pillow still in plastic, like no one was ever there in the first place.

Fuck, what if he wasn't there? What if Eddie's doped up brain imagined all of this, giving himself the comfort of a circle of friends that would stay with him in the hospital, that promised they wouldn't leave him and meant it? What if he really is alone now?

His breath is coming in short, desperate gasps, and he recognizes enough to know that he's hyperventilating again - though it feels distant, fuzzy, like it's happening to someone else and he's just observing.

Somewhere through the thick cotton obscuring his ears, he can tell someone is saying his name.

It's Dustin, fuck, he knows that voice, and he knows that means he's not alone, that they're still here with him, but he can't quite seem to get the rest of him on board with that thought, can't make it cut the panic racing through him.

There's a loud squawk by his ear, a hitch-pitched whine of feedback and a rush of static, and that startles him enough to focus in on Dustin urgently asking someone to do what they did before.

"Hey, Eddie, can you hear me?" Steve asks, voice tinny but still there, and Eddie tries not to feel pathetic about how hard he latches onto it. "You're all right, you're safe. You're not alone. We've got you, Eds, everyone's okay. We all made it out, we're all with you."

He keeps up the mantra as Eddie's breathing slowly evens out, as he feels himself settle back into himself. Dustin's sitting next to him, eyes wide and panicked, clutching a walkie-talkie and holding it up close to him as Steve's voice sounds from it.

"I'm-" Eddie starts, then has to swallow a few times around how dry his mouth feels. "I'm here. I'm good. Just - saw your bed empty when I woke up, kind of panicked."

"We've all been there," Steve says. "I got myself discharged a few hours ago - I'm out getting things ready. I'll let Dustin take it from here, okay? See you guys soon."

Eddie hums an affirmative, and Dustin lets go of the walkie, tucks it back into his pocket. There's a moment where Eddie has no idea what the fuck to say, but then Dustin shoots a little smile at him.

"It's okay," he says. "It happens to all of us. We skipped school to be with Will the first time this all happened, and I spent the night at Steve's for a week straight once."

Eddie's eyebrows shoot up. "Your mom let you sleep over at Steve Harrington's place for a week?"

Dustin rolls his eyes. "She loves Steve, it's kind of annoying. I told her he got his concussion defending us from bullies that time, and he needed someone to stay with him and make sure his brain didn't bleed out of his ears in his sleep."

There's a pause, and then the kid's eyes go a little bit earnest, like he's trying to sell him on something. "It was great, though. Steve made breakfast every morning, and he let me get whatever I wanted on my pizza, and he cooked dinner sometimes too, and he's got a huge TV and a ton of movies on tape, and he only complains a little bit if you-"

The door slams open, and Eddie jumps.

"We gotta go," Robin says as she and Lucas crowd into the room. "Did you tell him?"

"Tell me what?" Eddie asks, eyes darting around the room, fully expecting to see clocks or vines or fucking bats. "Is it Vecna, did that fucker recover already?"

"No, Max says he was in pretty bad shape. He's gonna be down for a while," Lucas replies.

"It's the cops and the rest of the town looneys," Robin says, taking up a post by the door while Lucas paces across the room, looking out the window. "We heard on the police radio channel, they found out you're here. We gotta get you out."

"Fuck." Eddie swallows, tangling the fingers of his good hand in the sheets of the hospital bed so tight it makes his knuckles creak. "I'm kind of out of options on safe places to lay low and recuperate here."

"What?" Dustin looks affronted. "No you're not. I told you, you've got us."

"All of us," Robin says, as Dustin comes to stand by her at the door.

He cranes his head down the hall. "Is there a doctor coming to release him?"

"Yeah, Erica yelled at him until he gave in, he's on his way." Lucas glances away from the window to look at Eddie. "We hid El in Mike's basement for days without anyone knowing, you think we can't do the same for you?"

Robin snorts. "It's not going to be Wheeler's shitty basement, Eddie, don't worry."

Eddie stares at them. Part of him is aware of what they're saying, is processing that he needs to get out of the hospital and he's not going to have to do it alone - that even though the world isn't technically ending right now, they're all going to stand by him.

But he feels like he did when they came back from sticking up for him with Carver and the others - overwhelmed, like he hasn't done anything to deserve this, like he doesn't know what to do with such clear, undeniable evidence that they've made him one of this party now.

"Eddie?" Dustin asks, stepping in a little closer. "You okay?"

Eddie snaps himself out of it. "Yeah. Just - fuck, all right, let's do this."

Robin helps him stand up, stays by his side as he steps into a pair of loose scrubs that someone's scrounged up for him - he doesn't ask, and he's assuming the clothes he wore in the Upside Down are trashed - and lets him lean on her shoulder so he's somewhat steady on his feet by the time a harried looking doctor makes it into the room.

"You realize you're not ready to be discharged?" the doctor asks immediately.

"I'm over eighteen," Eddie replies. "You can't keep me here if I want to leave, right?"

The doctor sighs. "You'll be leaving against medical advice."

"But I'm not going to, like, die of blood loss or infection or something if I do?" Eddie presses.

"We can't answer that question with any surety without another few days of observation," the doctor replies, then relents when everyone glares at him. "It's highly unlikely."

"Just tell us what we need to do to keep an eye on him," Robin says.

The doctor goes over the cliff notes - soft foods for a while, showers are okay but no soaking, no lifting things over five pounds, there's a page of stretching exercises for his shoulder and leg, a timeline for recovery, and a prescription for the rest of his antibiotics and a smaller one for some painkillers.

"That's all I can give you since you're leaving against medical advice," the doctor says, which Eddie knows is a load of bullshit, but he's too exhausted and itching to get out of here to call him on it.

They herd him out of the room and to the elevator, standing in a little half circle around him like he's got his own little string of tiny bodyguards, and the thought makes him giggle, just a little bit hysterically.

"You guys look like little lion cubs," he says.

"You think we can't protect you?" Dustin asks, sounding hurt.

Eddie shakes his head. "No, no, I'm feeling very protected right now. Thank you."

The elevator dings, and Eddie takes a deep breath as he steps off - into a controlled chaos. The waiting room is packed, some gurneys set up right out there with nurses tending to what seems like minor cases, and even some people sleeping on the floor. Eddie feels a moment of swooping panic, but no one even looks his way. They shuffle him out of the hospital to where Nancy and Erica are waiting in the Wheeler station wagon.

Eddie gingerly climbs in, and Lucas and Dustin slide into the backseat with Erica.

Robin holds up his prescription. "I'm gonna get this filled. Swing back and grab me after you drop them off?" she asks Nancy.

Nancy hums an affirmative, eyes flicking around to make sure everyone's wearing their seat belts before she takes off.

Eddie thinks about asking where they're going, but his stomach and chest and legs and arm ache, and he's wiped just from the walk out of the hospital and to the car. So he just tips his head back against the seat of the car, closes his eyes, and tries to hold himself still enough that the seatbelt doesn't rub up against his wounded gut.

Eventually, the car stops. He expects more talking, but there's a tense silence in the flurry of activity, until someone pulls open the car door and is unbuckling his seatbelt for him.

"Shit," Dustin says. "Is he out again?"

"M'up," Eddie mumbles, though admittedly, he's not entirely sure he's up for moving.

"Go get Steve," Erica orders imperiously. "Someone needs to drag his sorry ass around again."

Eddie forces his eyes open. "M'up, m'up, I got this."

In the time it takes for him to get oriented well enough to notice that the car is in a garage, and then shuffle around to get his feet pointed in the direction of out, though, Dustin's apparently managed to collect Steve, who emerges from what Eddie assumes is the door to a house, wearing a pair of sweats and a Hawkins swim team sweatshirt.

Eddie waves his hands around, preemptively slapping Steve away before he can even get to him. "No," he tells him, as he comes to a stop just out of slapping range. "I know you've got stitches, too. No heavy lifting."

"We're not going to lift you, Eddie, we're just going to help," Nancy says, coming around to his other side, and -

Hmm.

"Yeah, okay," he agrees, lowering his arms for a moment before changing course, and holding one hand out to each of them.

Nancy takes one hand, and Steve the other, and they both step in closer to help guide him out of the car and to his feet. They promptly sling one of his arms over each of their shoulders, and start shuffling their way into the house. Eddie pretends the sharp hiss and the sting of tears in his eyes are due only to the edge of pain from the movement, and not to the fact that he's feeling overwhelmed again by just how willing all of them seem to be to help him when he needs it.

The house that they shuffle him through is fucking pristine, a laundry room that feels bigger than Eddie's kitchen right off the garage and into a hallway, a closed off double door to the right and then a massive living room. There's an l-shaped sofa all made up with pillows and blankets, and that's where they take him, letting him settle down on it with a sigh of relief.

"Robin's filling his prescriptions," Nancy says to Steve. "I'm going to go get her, we'll be back soon."

She heads out as the herd of children Eddie apparently belongs to now troop into the living room, their voices all clamoring together.

Steve whistles, sharp and clear and making Eddie wince, though it does cut through the noise.

"You two," he says, pointing at the Sinclairs. "With me, we're calling your parents from the kitchen. Dustin, you're after them."

The noise picks up again, and this time Eddie can make out loud protests. Steve puts his fingers to his mouth again, and nope, nope, Eddie does not want that sounding off this close to his ear again.

"Hey!" he roars, and even though it makes his throat hurt, it works to shut them up. "Thank you."

"Parents," Steve repeats. "Or they're going to come looking for you, and maybe no one else will think to look for you guys here, but they will."

Dustin groans, but he doesn't protest again.

"What are we even supposed to tell them?" Lucas grumbles.

Steve shrugs. "What do you usually tell them?"

Dustin considers. "…yeah, okay, the babysitter cover will probably still work."

"Add in the Starcourt special," Lucas says.

Eddie looks between them all. "Is any of that supposed to make sense?"

"I told you, our parents love Steve," Dustin says. "He's been beaten up enough protecting us that they think he's some kind of defender against bullies and natural disasters."

Unwillingly, Eddie remembers the headlines after Starcourt, puts it together with what Robin'd told him and how beat to hell Steve looked when Eddie saw him. It doesn't sit well with Eddie, how casually Dustin talks about Steve getting beat up protecting them, but he also remembers Dustin holding onto Steve like he was a lifeline back in the hospital, so he thinks maybe it's a coping mechanism as much as it's a belief that Steve is invincible.

"We'll just tell them Steve was with us when the earthquake hit, and he kept us safe, then we waited with him at the hospital until he was discharged," Lucas says. "It's not even technically a lie."

Erica snorts, unimpressed. "And how does that explain you three sneaking out of the house when the cops were there and running away?"

"The cops? Oh, fucking great," Steve mutters. "What'd they say to you, are you guys okay?"

Max waves her good hand. "They didn't have anything on us. We weren't under arrest, they didn't tell us not to leave the house. They've got nothing."

"Question," Eddie says, holding up a hand. "How does that fit in with Steve carrying my unconscious ass into the hospital and telling everyone we were attacked?"

"You were attacked by the real killer, obviously," Dustin says, rolling his eyes. "But we're not going to bring that out until things have settled down a little."

Eddie considers if it's worth protesting exactly how flimsy that cover story is, and how much it won't hold up to anything, but - well. If he thinks too much about how deeply screwed he is with this murder stuff, it just makes him panic, and he doesn't really have room for all of that right now considering he's barely able to physically function.

He's pretty sure their parents will be too focused on their kids being safe after the "earthquake" for now, so he lets it go.

Steve seems to agree - or comes to an entirely different conclusion with the same result, fuck if Eddie knows, because he just points at Lucas and Erica again. "Kitchen. Now."

The Sinclairs reluctantly follow him, leaving Max and Dustin alone with Eddie.

"They're probably going to make us come home," Dustin mutters.

Max gives him a disdainful look. "At least you probably have a home to go back to."

"Wait, what?" Eddie asks when Dustin winces.

"The trailer park's a wreck," Max says flatly. "The earthquake or whatever it was hit the worst at the gates."

The gates. One of which was on the ceiling of his living room, right where -

"My uncle," Eddie says, trying not to freak out. "Is he okay, has anyone-"

"He's fine!" Dustin says hurriedly. "He was already out of your guys' place, cause, you know, crime scene. The school's been set up as a temporary housing until they can get everything sorted out, he's there."

Fuck if that doesn't make Eddie feel guilty all over again, but knowing his uncle is at least physically safe calms him down.

Max looks a little abashed, like she'd forgotten that she wasn't the only one in this little group who lives on that side of town anymore, which makes his heart go out to her. It's easy to forget about the things that should divide them, when they're all focused on saving the world and just trying to survive another day. He wonders how she deals with it when they're not all caught up in the Upside Down - wonders if she just hasn't been dealing with it at all, considering he knows she's a new resident of Forest Hills and that she'd been pulling away from the group before this.

She doesn't say anything else, and he doesn't ask.

Steve comes back before it gets too awkward, eyes automatically landing on Max in a way that, for a ridiculous moment, makes Eddie wonder if the guy is actually psychic.

"Mrs. Sinclair is asking for you," Steve says. "Do you want to come talk to her?"

His voice is soft, gentle, and he gives Max time to think it over - Eddie gets the feeling that Steve already has an excuse prepared for the Sinclairs if Max says no.

Max's eyes dart over at Eddie and Dustin for a moment, like she's not sure she wants to say anything in front of them. Then she deflates a little and looks back at Steve.

"My mom call back?" she asks.

"Not yet," Steve replies. "We can try again."

Max's jaw sets, and she shakes her head. "No. I want to talk to Mrs. Sinclair."

She stands, and doesn't push Steve's arm off of her when he grabs her in for a side hug as he guides her back into the kitchen.

Dustin leans back in the recliner he'd claimed, propping his booted foot up on the footrest. "I'm going to see if Mom'll let me stay over here a few days," he declares.

"Good luck with that," Eddie says. "Your mom's love of Steve aside, you've been gone for days. I think she's entitled to a day or two of hovering over you."

Dustin's nose scrunches, like he really wants to protest that but he's pretty sure Eddie's right.

"Fine," he mutters. "But you guys have to agree to walkie me every night. Every night, Eddie. And you have to make sure Steve leaves it on, and charged up, and I'm going to make him promise to check in as soon as he wakes up in the morning."

His heart - his stupid, not nearly cynical enough heart - cracks a little. "I'm okay, Dustin. Steve and I made it out okay."

"This time," Dustin says, and he won't meet Eddie's eyes, his voice thick enough that Eddie suspects he's holding back tears. "But you almost didn't. You almost died, Eddie, if El hadn't been ready for Vecna maybe you would have. And Steve - he's my brother, and I know he thinks he's invincible but one day he's not going to be, and he doesn't know how much I need him, how much I need you both -"

"Hey," Steve says.

Dustin yelps at the same time that Eddie jumps, hissing when that pulls at his stitches.

"Shit, Steve, make some noise next time!" Dustin complains.

"Sorry," Steve says, then reaches out to ruffle Dustin's hair. "I know, Dustin. Eddie and I both know, okay? We need you, too."

Part of Eddie wants to wheel back, to tell Steve that's awfully presumptuous of him, but - the part of him that he doesn't want to acknowledge, the bigger part right now, really fucking likes the way Steve says we, the way it makes Dustin stop looking so broken.

"Go home for a few days, then you can tell your mom that you're worried I'm going to rip my stitches trying to take care of myself and come stay over for a while, okay? We'll do it just like the first time."

Dustin considers that for a moment, then nods. "Okay."

"Good," Steve says. "Because it's your turn. You want me to bring the phone out here?"

"Nah, I can make it." Dustin lets down the recliner and slowly shuffles his way to the kitchen.

Steve shoots Eddie a look, and there's something quiet and intense in his eyes, something that Eddie feels like he can almost get, if he just -

Then Steve's moving, following Dustin back to the kitchen, and it's gone.

Eddie's alone.

This is the first time since he spent that long, shitty night in the woods that he's actually had some space to himself without one of the others in this strange little party right there. Part of him thinks he should enjoy the reprieve, taking in a breath and letting it out without worrying about what anyone else might see. Part of him thinks he should be panicking, like he did every time he thought he might have been left alone in the hospital.

He doesn't know what he actually feels.

There's a faint murmur of voices from the kitchen, low and soothing, and he thinks - he thinks about how if he yelled, any one of them would come running for him. He thinks about how if he heard yelling from them, he'd be launching himself up off this sofa and scrambling for the kitchen, bloody bite wounds or not. He thinks about how he ran, and how he didn't, and how none of them seemed to blame him when he ran from an invisible monster that turned a girl who was nothing but nice to him into a broken doll, and how they yelled at him for almost dying when he didn't run from a mob of demon bats who almost tore him to pieces. He thinks about how not one of them ever called him a coward, thinks about how they dragged him out of hell and slept in his hospital room and whisked him off to safety.

He thinks, maybe, they might just keep him, even if he isn't Steve's soulmate.

Steve comes out of the kitchen, shoots him a little wry smile and says, "Kind of figured none of us really want to be alone right now," and Eddie -

He thinks, fuck, he still really wants to be Steve's soulmate anyway.

Taglist (always happy to add more!): @vampireinthesun @koibug @estrellami-1 @mentalcyborg @allbimyself26 @questionablequeeries @the-s-is-silent @whimsicalwitchm @a-gae-af-racoon @tinyplanet95 @n0-1-important @velocitytimes2 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @newtstabber @jcmadgirl @roblingoblin285 @lexyvey @paperbackribs @goodolefashionedloverboi @evix-syne666 @raisedbylibrarians @stxrcrossed186 @nightmareglitter @greekgeek24 @starman-jpg @crazyhatlady86 @imfinereallyy @manda-panda-monium @deleataecount @prideandsensibility @chaoticvictorianspirit @maydillydally @disrespectedgoatman @scarlet-malfoy @i-less-than-three-you @hbyrde36 @hallucinatedjosten @dragonsandgayships @arepaconchocolate @g4ys0n @novelnovella @bisexualdisastersworld @ghostofyourvampiregf @scarletyeager @pettrichore @nerd-and-nervous @hiimlevi @queenie-ofthe-void @cinnamon-mushroomabomination

-----

Part 14

[skyfallscotland]

20 Questions for the Writers Tag Game!

I was tagged by @caeli0306

1. Total number of AO3 works

Nine!

2. Total AO3 word count 985,672! We're about to crack the mil, baby! And in just over a year, too 🥺💗

3. Fandoms I've written for

So many! But if we keep it to works currently posted: ACOTAR & The Empyrean series.

4. Top 5 fics by kudos

Truth & TalonFear & FlameMacchiatoFurykeep quiet (nothing comes as easy as you)

5. Do I respond to comments?

Yes, always! I love receiving them, so replying is the least I can do 💗

6. What has the angstiest ending?

...Truth & Talon, actually...

No, I'm just kidding....mostly... 👁👄👁 I'm saying Dangerous Devotion. 7. What has the happiest ending?

Fury, I think.

8. Have I received hate?

Not recently/in the Empyrean fandom (unless you count people telling me they're disappointed with my choices, lol, shoutout to that one girl who was sad Remi wasn't a virgin!) but I have before for sure.

9. Do I write smut? And what kind?

Sure. What kind like...kinks? Praise kink? Cockwarming? What do you mean what kind? 😭 The hot kind 💗

10. Do I write crossovers?

I have before, but I don't have any currently published.

11. Have I ever had a fic stolen?

Multiple times, lol. she's an icon, she's a legend, and she is the moment.

Honestly though, please don't do this. It's not a nice feeling. It doesn't help you, either, or anyone else. Wouldn't you rather contribute something new to the fandom you're in? 12. Have I ever had a fic translated?

Yes! Some of my older Tolkien works were translated into Russian and I've had offers for Remi's Version, but I prefer that translations stay on AO3 (with very limited exceptions) which I suppose limits some people.

13. Have I ever co-written a fic?

I mean, most of my ideas are bounced off @justallihere and we throw dialogue/ideas back and forth so we'll give her... 12% of the credit for my next work. But no, I've never properly co-written anything. I feel like it would be weird, right? Unless you're writing a POV each?

14. What is my all time favorite ship?

Xaden Riorson/Remi Sorrengail 😌

15. A WIP I'll never finish?

I really hope to finish the things I've started so far. I have a few on the go, but the brain does what it wants. Tattoo-artist Xaden is sitting right on the edge there. I have 10k words of a scribe Violet AU that I might never pick up again, so let's say that.

16. Writing strengths?

Feelings, apparently. Lots of people tell me I make them cry, lmao.

17. Writing weaknesses?

Battles, action, fight scenes. I hate them. I hate them so much I'll write in storylines that change the canon universe so I can skip them completely. Ick.

18. Do I like foreign language dialogue?

I just write, for example, 'he said in Tyrrish' after the dialogue, I like that sort of thing, I think it's indicative enough without doing all italics and strange indicators like people used to back in the day, lol.

19. First fandom I wrote for?

Lord of the Rings. Very short lived. Was told it was "the worst fic I've ever read in my life" and that was that. I was maybe thirteen at the time 😌

20. Favorite fic I've written?

I cannot and will not pick a favourite child, but I will say Fury is very close to me. It got me back into writing and it came at a time in my life where I was really struggling and finding who I wanted to be and really changing my life. Without Tessa, there wouldn't be Remi 💗

I feel like everyone I know has already been tagged by someone, so I'll just open it to the floor for anyone who wants to participate 🤷‍♀️

[strawberrykidneystone]

From Earth with Love

summary: phone sex with garrus while shepard is in lockdown on earth

a/n: garrus’ voice y’all…..

tws: voice kink, phone sex, masturbation, turian male genetalia written as hemipenes, cursing, intentionally all lower case, implied exhibitionism

ao3 link

it had been a week since shepard had been on earth and she already had cabin fever.

there was only one person who she wanted to talk to.

or turian she should say.

shepard was laying back against her headboard and pulled up her omni-tool. it had limited access and the call would definitely be monitored, but at this point, she didn't care. the ache in her legs was enough for her to disregard any shame she might've felt otherwise.

as she pressed the call button, she waited with bated breath as her hand found her way under her pajama shorts. she started rubbing her clit and closed her eyes as she imagined it was garrus' fingers instead. suddenly the voice that she had been dying to hear came online, "hello? shepard?"

shepards breath hitched at the rumble of his deep voice and as it went straight to her core, her hand momentarily stopping, "garrus... i need you."

"shepard, you know you can't have any unregulated visitors on earth right now-"

"that's not what i mean vakarian. i mean i need you right now."

"oh. oh."

garrus knew what kind of effect his voice had on shepard, ever since their shared night together before the collectors, he felt how her body reacted whenever he praised her. it was nice to know that she longed for him as much as he missed her, but a call like this was still somewhat unexpected. he couldn't help but feel pity for whoever had to listen to the recording of her calls.

"you sound positively breathless shepard, did you already start without me?" he teased as he hastily got up from the basic grey desk and locked his office door. being a “reaper expert” had given him his own office that he didn't use very often, but it was very convenient for moments like this. he sat back in his plush chair and unbuckled the armor of the bottom part of his plates. his hemipenes extended from his slit as he imagined her touching herself, holding both shafts in his hand, running his blunt thumb talon over the heads.

shepard huffed and rolled her eyes, "you were taking too long vakarian, wish you were here right now," she said in a sultry tone and started to circle her clit again.

"yeah? what would you want me to do if I was there, hm? spare no details sweetie," he purred and started stroking himself, squeezing at the base every so often.

"well," she thought and bit her lip, "i would want you on your knees in front of me with my legs over your shoulders, i'd want you to fuck me with your tongue the way you know i like."

garrus groaned and bucked his hips up just thinking about the taste of her, he'd give anything to be buried in between her thighs right now, "god i miss the way you taste shepard, i'd fuck you with my tongue all night if you let me."

shepard audibly whimpered and inserted a finger into her hole, curling her knuckles towards her and thrusting them inside herself, "I just can't fill myself like you do garrus." she knew that saying that would inflate his ego, but her brain was already going fuzzy from pleasure.

garrus purred in appreciation and thrusted up into his hand, picturing her on top of him, riding both of his cocks with both of them stuffed inside of her. "I know shepard, I know. if I was there, i'd fill you up with just one, until I could feel that you were ready. then i'd split you open with my second cock and stuff you full. you'd like that wouldn't you shepard? my good girl, your little fingers can't fill you up the way I can."

shepard groaned and arched her back, putting two more fingers inside of herself and squeezing her eyes shut as she imagined garrus filling her up with both of his lengths. "god yes please, need you inside me, miss your cocks so much", she whimpered and rubbed her clit with her thumb as her fingers tried their best to intimidate the lengths she was fantasizing about.

"oh? i can hear that you're close already, are you gonna cum for me?" he said smugly and happily clicked his mandibles. he really had no room to tease her, he wasn't too far from cumming himself.

she whined and used her free hand to tug on the back of her hair, just like he would, "garrus please, need your voice to cum."

garrus let out a raspy moan and increased the pace of his hand, the heads of his cocks starting to swell, "you're doing so good for me shepard, filling yourself with your fingers but still being so empty. god i need to be in that tight little pussy again, so good and tight around me, nothing can compare to you, squeezing ever last drop out of me every goddamn time."

"yes- yes!" she shamelessly moaned as his voice and praise pushed shepard over the edge, cumming on her fingers. lightyears away, hearing her climax made garrus cream all over his hand.

the two sat in silence for a minute, listening to the other pant and catch their breath over the audio of the omni-tool.

"so..."

"so."

"i miss you garrus."

"i miss you too shepard."

"can we talk again soon?"

garrus chuckled, "to do this again or to actually talk."

"depends on you big guy." she teased and giggled softly, cleaning herself up. garrus used the tissues on his desk to wipe himself up and buckled his armor back into place.

"how about a mix of business and pleasure? i'd love to catch you up on the outside world that you're missing inside that prison of yours."

"they prefer the term 'house arrest' for all intensive purposes."

"i personally would call the whole thing crap."

"careful vakarian, big brother's listening."

"big brother?"

"yeah, you know, 1984? the book?"

"..."

"not in the turian education system huh."

"nope."

the two of them continued their conversation deep into the night, and had many similar nights over the next 6 months.

wk: 1,030

[sunwarmed-ash]

Thank You For Your Patience!! (Sinful Sunday Post)

As a thank you for being patient and sweet while I sorted my life out, I'm gonna post 4 lil Sinful Sunday snippets today! These will NOT be posted to ao3 until their debut! Get em while they're hot

Part 3: HOT TO GO!- Steve x Eddie x Billy

Chapter 3 Preview: 🔞👀😈

“Good job baby, already took half of it,” Steve praised, his cock brushing that special spot inside Eddie until he can't breathe, he knows there's still so much more cock to take. At one point, Eddie thought he'd taken it all, and then Steve adjusted his hips, and then the last few inches slide home and Eddie's vision blacked out. His knees buckled and the only thing holding him up was the two sets of hands holding him in place. 

It's so good but it hurts worse than anything he's felt in a long time. Fuck, he wouldn't trade it for the world. In fact, he wished he could stay suspended in this feeling forever. Right on the precipice of oblivion, no synthetic or organic drugs could bring him this high, and he was addicted. 

He's being stretched out further than he's taken in a long time and he’s losing the battle of overstimulation with every inch inward and forward.

Steve is helping stretch the feeling out, pulling him back on his cock while Billy sucks Eddie's dick into his mouth. Eddie’s brain shorts out again.

Billy's sucking him like he's taking Eddie's orgasm as a personal challenge and Eddie can barely keep up with the speed. The sounds are absolutely filthy and it fills the room beautifully.

"Oh shit," Steve gasps "oh my god, keep that up Billy, he’s squeezing so tight around me.”

“Billy, fuck,” Eddie cries, because he can’t focus on anything but the pleasure when he’s being dually stimulated like this. He knows Billy's sucking him to delirium for a purpose, but even after the mind blowing orgasm Billy is speed running him towards, he doesn't think-"I can’t," Eddie pants, "you both won't fit."

“Shh, sweetheart," Steve soothes, "you can do it, it's okay. we're gonna get you relaxed."

“Steeve..."

“You want to be good for us, don't you Eddie?

Eddie melts under Steve's honey-sweet tone. Enough it took Steve's blunt teeth in his neck for him to remember he was supposed to answer.

"Yes Daddy,” Eddie croaks. 

"Good job. Just focus on me, and try and relax. Billy will take care of the rest.”

Eddie didn't have much time to think about it, because Billy's fingers pushing inside to stretch his hole severs the last of his conscious thought. 

"Fuck," Eddie gasps and then he’s cumming. Hard and loudly all over his chest.

"There you go baby,” Steve soothes, “perfect, keep looking at me."

Eddie melted under the praise. It was everything he needed and he was relaxing under the stretch again.

“Almost there,” Billy says, pushing a second finger inside alongside Steve’s cock. 

“You hear that baby? You can almost take Billy too. You'd like that, wouldn't you?”

“Fuck…” Eddie cries. In fantasy, yes, because he can take two, sometimes even a third in his dreams, but in real life his body feared for the painful stretch.

“Tell me to stop and I will,” Billy reassures.

That's enough assurance for Eddie to fully relax. Billy sinks in a few inches. Eddie's eyes roll into the back of his head as pleasure overrides every nerve in his body.

“There you go, nice job baby,” Steve praises, pressing kisses into his neck. 

“Fuck, fuck,” Eddie mouths, head rolling on Steve's shoulder as Billy tries to push in deeper. He didn't know being pushed so far past his limits would have his cock ready to burst again but here he was, aching for Billy to either fuck him and make him cum or pull out and let him think. He doesn't have enough mental capacity to do both. “More,” he begs and hopes its the right move. 

Billy pulls out, and he fears for the worst. But before he can miss the painful stretch of Billy’s cock its back, but with a dripping amount of lube. The glide goes so much smoother this time and Eddie is bucking hard into the thrust. 

“Careful,” Steve warns but Eddie can't hear him. The blood in his ears is pounding too hard. He's too close to care about anything but reaching climax again. And if he can bring Billy and Steve over too, bonus.

“Please, please, I'm so fucking close,” Eddie trembles.

It's the magic word for Billy. He grips Eddie's hips tight and increases the speed of his thrusts. Steve's enormous dick was doing plenty of work just sitting inside Eddie, and now Billy’s cock piercing is dragging across his insides and Eddie is convinced he can feel his brain melting out of his ears. “P-pl- ah- y-yes- fuck- please!”

Steve swallows down his every moan, biting into his neck when he wants to hear him cry. 

They stopped touching his dick but it doesn't matter, Eddie’s gonna cum again no matter what. the ache in his core is driving him feral. He needs it.

“Please,” Eddie whimpers.

“Go ahead baby, you did so good for us,”

Eddie's cock is pulsing and his ass can't stop clenching around the thick muscles inside it. 

“T-thank you.”

“Still want to keep going,” Steve asks.

“Y-Yeah.”

Eddie whines as Billy starts to pull out. 

“Billy can fuck you next," Steve says at the same time Billy says,

“I can wait my turn.”

“Okay,” Eddie nods, turning to pull Steve's lips to his own. 

Steve snaps into him and Eddie’s head falls back. His ass is swollen and sore but fuck so is his prostate and with every thrust against it Eddie is finding overstimulation more and more addicting. “Oh my god. Fuck, that feels so good.”

“Not too sensitive?”

Eddie chuckles against his lips before groaning. 

“I think I like it.” 

“Painslut,” Billy snorts.

“What do you need baby,” Steve asks, starting a series of kisses down Eddie’s neck. 

“H-Harder,” Eddie pleads, and he can feel the shape of Steve’s grin grow on his throat. 

ao3 kofi insta

Read the other 3 here!

[lululawrence]

And here I was feeling somewhat abashed by 57 pages of bookmarks....

Number 57, os gwelwch yn dda.

Diolch am y gwych syniad.

oh yeah defo no need to feel abashed about your pages. i'll happily share mine to help you feel better about yours haha ESPECIALLY if you're gonna speak welsh to me!! i love you and cannot wait to hug you again sometime!! pretend like i'm hugging you tonight with this little mini fic rec for you, yeah??

page 57 of my own bookmarks page include...

Tell Me Your Secrets by dimpled_halo / @comebackassholes

“You!” They both yell in unison.

Niall looks between the two of them. “You know each other?”

Harry scoffs and looks away from Louis Tomlinson to meet Niall’s gaze. “Remember that guy in college I told you about? The one that was at that frat party and drunk as fuck and then I gave him a ride to his dorm but on our way there he decided to pee in an empty cup in my car?”

Niall’s eyes widen and he stares at Louis laughing. “You mean the one who spilled his piss all over you?”

“Hey, that wasn’t my fault. Harry here was being a little priss the entire time and he ran over a speed bump without slowing down and it caused me to make a mess. You also didn’t have to leave me stranded in the middle of the night for something you caused.” Louis snaps back.

Harry rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”

A For a Good Time Call au where Harry and Louis get off on the wrong foot when they first meet. When dire circumstances forces them to become roommates, Harry finds out some things about Louis that he doesn't expect will help him discover some things about himself.

The Post-War BP by jaerie / @jaerie

The eight year war has left the country's birthrate severely stunted with a lack of virile alphas left to bring it back up. To ensure the survival of the country, the government opens The Breeding Program where young omegas can apply to carry an alpha's child in exchange for benefits. Louis' family is struggling and the BP is one of the only ways to secure a roof over their heads. Harry was drafted at the age of eighteen and spent six years of his life defending a country he doesn't recognize when he returns home. The government made the bed but it's Harry that has to lie in it.

'cause i like it dark and low by sarcasticfluentry

“Shut up,” Louis huffs. He’s on his back, all spread out and lovely on Greg’s bed. Fuck, Greg hasn’t seen him like this in – too long, actually, Louis had been in America for almost the entire summer and Greg had only gotten to see him once or twice during the occasional too-short break. He’d missed this so much, and it was all he was able to think about since the last time he and Louis hooked up a couple weeks ago.

...or, size-kinky Grouis reunion sex because Louis is going on Greg's show on Friday and my brain wouldn't let me sleep until I wrote this.

Choose one of my 103 pages of bookmarks in AO3 and I'll give you a random selection of fics from that page!

[rintarousgirl]

i wanna be yours -- 8. 505

✦ - Y/N is a small business owner, offering her services not only as a designer but an at-home makeup artist and cosmetic producer as well. She's perfectly content with her small life when she's approached by the manager of the INARIZAKI band, asking for her to fill the position of backstage artist on short notice. Needing the money, and wanting the experience, Y/N agrees. Little does she know of the fatal attraction she will share with the band's lead, Suna Rintarou.

a/n: so, this is late ik, but i was writing a fic on ao3 so LMAO priorities ig. i have literally no other excuse than that and i am so sorry. it's also my best friend's birthday week, so ive been running ragged trying to plan her birthday. i hope this doesn't seem too rushed and short, i just really wanted to give y'all smth.

When you see Rintarou again, he kisses you.

You reciprocate, of course, but when his hand drifts down your side, you push him back lightly. He steps away immediately, hands by his side in surrender.

"What's wrong?" he asks softly, but he doesn't touch you. You take in a deep breath, hands tightening on your purse strap.

"We moved too fast. Like, way too fast the other night. We...we need to have a conversation. Not over the phone," you explain calmly, eyes glued to his neck. The bruising had mostly faded, but there's still an obvious discoloration staining his pale skin.

Rintarou licks his lips and rubs the back of his neck. "Uh, yeah, let's go upstairs."

You follow him silently through his house, and the two of you come to the same sunken-in living room you'd been sitting in last week. You sit facing each other, your knees tucked beneath you. You reach out and grab his hands, thumbs running over each vein on his forearm in an attempt to soothe him.

"Going into this, I thought I was going to take it slow," you admit softly, looking up to him. His full attention is on you, and you feel your confidence shrink under the gaze of his hazel eyes. "I didn't, clearly, and you were right when you said you didn't want to mess this--us up. I don't want too either. So, we really have to take it slow, despite it all."

Rintarou nods. "There are...a lot of things that could go wrong if we don't." You hum, leaning into the plush fabric of the couch.

"I agree. And I don't want to force you into things, especially if they make you so uncomfortable but...communication is key and how am I supposed to learn what I'm not supposed to do if you never tell me what happened between you and Kiyoko?"

He clearly wasn't expecting it, seeing as his hands twitch in your hold and his eyes go wide. He almost pulls back, but then his fingers curl into his palms and he closes his eyes. "You're right."

"I'm all ears," you whisper, and Rintarou's voice drips with hurt as he begins to share the story not only you had been curious of, but thousands of fans had been too.

"Kiyoko Shimizu was the makeup artist before you. Brilliant at her job, and such a caring person. Kind of like you. I fucked up with her. I wouldn't say there were...romantic feelings between us, but I did care for her a lot more than I reasonably should've for just another friends with benefits situation."

You let the lead settle in your throat, and doubts begin to flood your mind. Were you just a Kiyoko replacement in more senses than one? Were you supposed to be another heartless fuck to Rintarou? You bite down on your tongue to keep down your questions and let him continue.

"It went on for a while, I think it was almost a year. Yeah, about. We weren't exclusive or anything, so I wasn't upset that she met other people. Actually, I encouraged her to date others, because I knew she deserved better than a quickie in a dressing room."

Your brain kind of lagged. Had Kiyoko sought out other men, while actively having sex with Rintarou? Did she stop fucking him if she decided to go on a second date? There were so many minor questions that made your head spin. A sick part of you also tried to imagine them, sharing secret smiles and touches under the table. You quickly shake away that thought.

"Two months ago, Kiyoko was offered a job in the States with a performance company. Very famous. She'd do good there on a team of artists, and she wouldn't be over-working herself. She's probably putting makeup on famous artists as we speak, actually."

You knew Kiyoko was good, you'd be stupid not to. You weren't directly involved with all the drama surrounding makeup artists before joining the band, but you had heard her name. She was known for her signature smokey eye, and talent to apply "messy" makeup that didn't run during performances. Very good for bands with...a more sexual appeal.

"She didn't want to take the opportunity, or at least, she told us she didn't, but we all knew she did. She just didn't want to feel like she was 'betraying' us or something. Eventually, Kita just emailed the company back for her and sent her off, I guess. He was always looking out for her best interests, like he does for you."

It almost made you smile. You knew Kiyoko was nice, she was friends with Yachi after all, but it still had you thinking. She wasn't going to take the opportunity of a lifetime, because she didn't want to leave some silly boys? ... Would you end up like that too? Would you jeopardize your future?

Rintarou hand drags down his face, and your own hands settle uncomfortably in your lap.

"I didn't like her...not like I like you. I like you a lot more, Y/N," you blushed, and you could tell what he meant, under those awkward heavy words was a sweet 'i love you'. "But I still cared for her, deeply. I wanted the best for her, but it still hurt. For a while, she was my best friend, and I know it wasn't her choice to leave, necessarily, but she left, and she never looked back."

Your head rose, confusion clear on your face. With furrowed brows, you ask, "She...never called or anything?"

Rintarou shrugs. "She did the first few times, to let us know she was settled in but then she never called again. She's come back and visited her other friends, I know that, but she hasn't said a word to any of us. I...I can't help but think it's because of me, in some way."

His eyes are a bit wet, and you know he's trying to hide a lot of how he feels. You cup his face, rubbing beneath his eye and catching a tear on the pad of your thumb.

"It's okay to cry. You have the right to be upset. I don't know...why she stopped talking to you, but I'm sure she has her reasons. However questionable they may be. But I'm here now, and I don't want to be a replacement. I'm Y/N, not Kiyoko."

He groans, burying his face in your palm. He lets out a wet shaky breath against your hand, hands gripping your wrist. "I-I know you're different. I don't want you thinking you aren't," he lifts his head, hazel eyes finding yours and searching for something, "I don't want to lose you. Ever."

"You won't," you say, "we just gotta play our cards right."

<- previous | next -> | masterlist

★ - kenma isn't a "tsundere" or anything, in my head, he's just not good with words and regrets what he says as soon as he texts it

★ - rintarou and you end up watching a movie together, so that's when you begin texting your friends

★ - kiyoko lore !! i am genuinely so sorry. you all prolly like hate me for this chapter being so lame for having such a big "reveal" or smth idk, but i have just been Burnt Out but this was the deal-breaker chapter and i promise you there will be more with her over the finale

✦ - Y/N is a small business owner, offering her services not only as a designer but an at-home makeup artist and cosmetic producer as well. She's perfectly content with her small life when she's approached by the manager of the INARIZAKI band, asking for her to fill the position of backstage artist on short notice. Needing the money, and wanting the experience, Y/N agrees. Little does she know of the fatal attraction she will share with the band's lead, Suna Rintarou.

taglist:

@mannaornot \ @gojoscumslut \ @sunarots \ @alienvarmint \ @tojirin \ @tkooooop \ @cheriesdear \ @shotenvinsoot \ @wolffmaiden \ @riiceandsoup \ @thebrownemo \ @vivian-555 \ @effmigentlywithachainsaw \ @rukia-uchiha-98 \ @weird0o0 \ @seiamor \ @rory-cakes \ @blue-violin \ @reveusecherie \ @hellokittylover9 \ @yourlocal-bunny \ @keniza \ @cerberuspuppy1 \ @baramii \ @kirbyscreeper \ @rioiio \ @noideawhothatis \ @ris-krispie \ @noideawhothatis \ @venusinx \ @arminseas \

[poolnoodling]

Fanfic Writer Interview

Thank you @detta-pica for the tag!!! this is a perfect way to jump back into fandom after a bit of a break :) super duper flattered you'd think of me, thank you.

How many works do you have on AO3?

only the two! after my debut this august. i hope for there to be maaaannny more in 2025 :)

Your top 5 stories by kudos/likes:

as i only have two posted works the order of kudos is:

nightcalls - JJK, satosugu, 8.4k words

unsurprising this is the higher of the two as this fic is porny and you guys are dogssss LOL i love it. i actually don't remember writing this fic because the conception-to-posting timeline was such a weird and short blur and i was down with a summer cold.

i'll often have an idea of a scene and branch off from that - with this one, i think i just liked the idea of a teeny forbidden meeting in the dark, specifically the climbing through the window. i don't remember when or how it turned abo but i surprised myself as i'm VERY particular with the trope! but i love how it turned out and you guys did too :') writing ST's POV was also particularly enjoyable for me.

2. my sea is blue (my sea is you) - JJK, satosugu, 10.9k words

my baby. my fondness for this fic has really grown since posting. and your comments are just - fuckkkk. still makes my day. i'm proud of myself for this once, but particularly i like the pacing, the chronology, and how i blended different tropes - it feels an easy story to me, and gentle, and warm, and deserved.

i sort of wrote this fic specifically for ao3 - i started with the idea of sharing a bed (classic) and thought fuck. ok. just write something and POST it. forget all the untouched WIPs (some of which i have had for YEARS) and just POST something finally. i just wanted to gauge what kind of response i'd get, if any, and more importantly how i'd feel about having my work out there in the open. it really was a springboard for me and it totally paid off <3

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

YES! every single one. i am so grateful when someone takes the time to tell me they liked my work because they literally don't need to, at ALL, but they DO, and i want to let them know i'm thankful for that. comments mean so much to me, and the interactions in the comment sections are my favourite of all - especially discussions!!

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

unposted and incomplete but probably the 3 part stsg canon fic i'm cooking, which figures. i'll likely leave the ending angsty/ambiguous - not even a spoiler, it's just that i wouldn't even attempt an all-round happy ending for HI arc because really, the tragedy is too irredeemable for me to work that particular miracle lmao

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

probably MSIB - definitely leaves you with the warm fuzzies

Do you write crossovers?

i wouldn't necessarily write a crossover where i'm blending characters from multiple fictional universes - that's maybe a stretch too far for my brain to infer those dynamics/interactions. BUT i have definitely written characters from one fandom into the fictional universe of another - so aus yes but specifically established fandom x established fandom instead of regular non-canon themes. for eg i have about 10k of a STSG walking dead au in my drafts (based from a very sophisticated end-to-end storyboard i scrawled in the back of my notebook during a 3 hour finance meeting - cooking on the clock is fkn hilarious)

i also have scrappy pieces here and there where i've mashed whatever nerdy obsessions i've got going on into whatever ship i'm fawning over - dig hard enough in my drafts and you'll find a 50k BTS/skyrim/demon slayer draft from lockdown LMAO

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

no! not yet LOL. and tbh i'd reject that kind of shit PRONTO. it's never made sense to me why someone would leave hate on someone else's brainchild when they can just....... exit the tab

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

fuk yea brother. intercourse is boring for me and difficult to write so i'd probably say i focus heavy on foreplay/build up, especially first times!!! i've actually stalled at multiple WIPs because i got to the intercourse part and lost all braincells.

literary wise, i like to write smut more towards the """poetic""" end of the spectrum rather than the more literal, action-by-action portrayal (though there's definitely a space and time for this too) - but really this is just a conscious cheat because i find smut generally pretty hard to write.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

i absolutely doubt it!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

no but would be completely open to this :)

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

ah. no. and i'd genuinely love to because there are some fkn amazing authors out there who i genuinely really admire, and whose ideas and techniques i think would blend so good with my own. HOWEVER i'd be the worst to collab with, and this is purely down to time and scheduling. i write fic on stolen time and as a result tend to take ages to produce something whole - if i ever found myself with a more open schedule i'd certainly be up for it, but don't see this happening sadly :(

What’s your all-time favorite ship?

such a hard question?! i don't actually HAVE that many ships but should probably say stsg because fuckkkk the tropes. the tropes you guys. there's just so much that's tasty about it. i won't get into it here but literally what is not to love?!? OTHER than this i'm a huge fan of televised media's most canon gay ships aka hannigram and stucky i'm a simple woman with simple pleasures what can i say

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

oh man. there could be quite a lot, but for fandoms other than stsg.

stsg-wise, there's the walking dead au i mentioned which could've reaaaally popped off but it would've been a behemoth of a thing that required time i don't have, PLUS i fell off TWD train as quickly as i got on it so the interest isn't necessarily there anymore. plot cooked though

What are your writing strengths?

i like this question. personally i think i excel with characterisation when i want to, and especially when it comes to dialogue. i genuinely find it so fun extrapolating from source material in terms of characters/personalities, really getting in their shoes, inferring their reactions, their speech, their psyches. i'm good at writing banter, and bickering, and teenhood, those sorts of back-and-forths, and i'd like to say there's realism in my interactions too, or at least i've been told this. i'd say writing angst is a strength of mine, though i haven't exactly released any yet, so this remains to be seen....

i also like my metaphors (maybe a bit too much), my silly flowery language, i like making writing PRETTY because i'm a shallow woman who struggles to exercise creativity when it comes to plot!

What are your writing weaknesses?

i've always said that i have difficulties with pacing. a lot of my WIPs are stalled because i struggle with scene length, the application of "filler" scenes, time passage, keeping it exciting... i usually get there in the end, but it's pacing i have to pay extra attention to, work on the hardest, and would probably appreciate feedback on the most if i ever showed my work to a beta reader.

then WORLDBUILDING. this is specific to aus. i could never truly enter the world of fantasy unless borrowing from an existing universe in an au type thing, which i have done before! but don't ask me to INVENT - i just don't have the brain for it! i'm not hugely plot orientated - and when i do have good ideas, they usually stay as that.

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

i'm a typical useless brit and know no other languages so would probably leave this alone for fear of totally butchering something and offending. there is absolutely a place for this - i just wouldn't trust myself to execute it. there are so many ways to convey a character talking in a different language without running the risk of inserting a shitty google translation which i'd no doubt end up doing

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

hmmm. honestly i think exploring nanami x haibara would give me so much room to drag my readers into an absolute pit of delicious pining and angst so probably that! i'd like to do this actually. opens notes app

this is really making me think.... probably CSM i could see myself venturing into. lots of fun and fucked up dynamics to play around with there. aki-centric i think.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

i have 30k of a canon hannigram fic sitting in my drafts that is completely shapeless and TOTALLY unfinished but fuck did i cooooook. idk what it is about hannigram that turns me into a poet but i fkn ate and it will likely NEVER see the light of day but it's probably what i'm most proud of, or what i enjoy going back and reading the most :) maybe i'll shape it up one day, we'll see.

thanks again for the tag! this was fun. as you can see i can fuckin yap for england given half the chance

i'm tagging @ihavethegrimoire and anyone who sees this and fancies having a go!! <3 <3

[johnslittlespoon]

20 questions for writers

thank you @triggerlil for the tag!! <3 i'm so late omg but this was FUN, first tag game i've done that's more author than writing snippet/drabble related :-)

tagging @air-exec, @counting0nit, @don-humes-tiny-shorts, @eternallytired17, @hauntingcontradiction

@nicijones, @bucking-mustangs-with-wings, @swifty-fox, @mangokittokatsu, anyone else who wants to! i love reading tag games like these, it's nice to learn more about the ppl behind all the brainrot :')

questions & answers below the cut! x

how many works do you have on ao3?

12!

what's your total ao3 word count? 50,182 wtf i only made my ao3 in january lol

what fandoms do you write for?

i've written for lotssss over the past decade, but my current ao3 is just saltburn and masters of the air fics :-) for the sake of this tag i'm just gonna stick to my mota fics in my answers tho since yk. mota blog lol

top 5 fics by kudos?

i don't wanna be alone tonight – buckbucky breathe me in (exhale slow) – buckbucky you're a dog (i'm your man) – buckbucky you put your arms around me (and i'm home) – buckbucky four–by–four – buckbucky

do you respond to comments?

every single one <33 i take a long while sometimes because i get too lost in the actual writing or i get overwhelmed by the kindness lol but i always always respond eventually :')

what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

definitely i see you in the daytime (i hear you at night), my first fic for masters of the air actually that spawned as a way to vent my feelings after the dreaded third episode lmaoo </3 thought that would get those boys out of my system, and i couldn't be happier to have been more wrong <3

what is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

ruh roh this kinda made me realize all my fics have some sorta melancholy/bittersweet ending even when they're hopeful... yad(iym) is gonna fix me fr (i think). but i guess the fuse to my fire since curt lives and the three of them are curtbuckbuckying indefinitely <3

do you get hate on fics?

i have in past fandoms but not here thankfully bc i am sensitive LOL. i've had weirdo anons that bitch about john bottoming (and i don't think those people realize it makes me inclined to write even more sub and/or bottom john to be petty SJGDK) but i wouldn't consider that hate, just bad fandom etiquette ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

do you write smut?

YEAHHH BABY <3 that's like. 99% of my drabbles/brainrot posts here and it takes serious self control to not just constantly write pwp oneshots, it's too much fun!! finding the balance in my chaptered fic for how much nsfw is too much is such a journey too lol, i wanna cram a spicy scene into every chapter but the part of me that adores slowburn over any other trope reins the gay brain in </3

craziest crossover?

haven't written any as of yet, but i do have my leaving!bikeriders au that i'm hoping to turn into a chaptered fic this summer, and that's exactly what it sounds like– buckbucky, but yank parts of callum's character from the leaving series and parts of austin's character from the bikeriders to create a buckbucky modern au. :-)

have you ever had a fic stolen?

i'm sure back in the wattpad days of the early '10s lol but none that i specifically remember!

have you ever had a fic translated?

in past fandoms!

have you ever co-written a fic before?

perhaps @curtsbigspoon and i cooked up like. 15k words of buckbucky thigh fucking etc months ago that i just need to get around to cutting down/editing >:-)

all time favorite ship?

i mean for me it's always a ship from whatever media i'm fixating on, so right now any variations of curtbuckbucky and cattonquick are everything to me <3 but in terms of ships that'll always have my heart, i can't ever let go of drarry, pricefield, clexa/murphamy, sciles/sterek– any from media i consumed during formative teenage years lol. but i will say i have never created anywhere near as much content for any other fandom as i have for mota :')

what's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

for once i actually have none that i see myself abandoning! i would notoriously abandon wips in past fandoms and probably would still, but guess who finally got on adhd meds last month after years of waiting? this guyyyy. i can start projects... and enjoy them the whole way through... and not get frustrated and trash them... who am i

i mean tbf i have at least a dozen wips that i've gotten either a few paras or few thousand words into lol but then a new shiny idea grabs my attention, but i do think i'll end up finishing most if not all of them off eventually! once i've invested enough time/words into a wip, i feel way more motivated to finish it so i'm not 'wasting' my efforts.

what are your writing strengths?

i feel most confident when i'm writing dialogue over anything else. writing conversation–heavy scenes or just straight up porn is when i overthink the least lmaoo

what are your writing weaknesses?

oh god, definitely having to spell out what's going on in a character's mind. like, i know what they're thinking as i'm writing out scenes; i can feel their emotions and all. i just have such a hard time putting it into words in a way that doesn't feel too obvious/overstated, if that makes sense. i very much prefer to show rather than tell their emotions, but sometimes it's hard to get that right, and i agonize over solo scenes the most, when i can't show what a character is feeling by way of verbal conversation with another character.

thoughts on dialogue in another language?

no specific opinion! sometimes it's cool to read/write, mostly i don't really have an opinion one way or another :-)

first fandom you wrote in?

lmfaooo i'm pretty sure it was either for olddd youtube ships or frerard ngl. not sure which came first bc i wrote so much at once

favorite fic you've written?

you're a dog (i'm your man) has been such a labour of love for me because i care so much about doing it justice :') so maybe that one, but if unfinished fics don't count, i actually wrote breathe me in (exhale slow) in one rushed four–ish hour sitting and was kinda neutral on it until i got a completely unexpected burst of kind and beautifully worded responses, and then i felt a tiny bit proud <3

[incandescentflower]

tagged by @stickers-on-a-laptop!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

107 (2 are wips)

2. What is your AO3 wordcount?

849,849 (that's really true. kind of spooky huh?)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

whatever hits the feels and gives me ideas. the majority is bl. right now it's Bad Buddy and Cherry Magic Thailand. The fandom I've written the most fics for is the Cherry Magic jdrama.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Up the Ante, Bad Buddy

Logical Syntax, Semantic Error

a boyfriend demo with premium features, Semantic Error

Be a good hyung, Semantic Error

one week is long enough to dream - Kieta Hatsukoi

5. Do you respond to comments?

always! sometimes it takes me a little longer than others but I always want to acknowledge when someone comments because they are such a boost.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I don't usually end in angst but I wrote something for a 1K challenge and it definitely was the angstiest ending I have ever written - before you go in Bad Buddy fandom.

7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

The overwhelming majority of my fic have happy endings and I don't really know how to determine the level of happiness. I do think angst with happy endings feels more cathartic. I have 8 fic in that tag.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I only once got full on hate on a fic. A reader said they wished they could take their kudos back. It was top/bottom drama and I don't engage in that bs.

9. Do you write smut? If so, which kind?

72/107 fic are rated E or M. It's always for smut. I once had a reader tell me that I am the master of the comfort smut genre. I am very pleased with that. :)

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest crossover you’ve ever written?

I have never written one, but lately I've had some ideas churning

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that I know of

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

yep! many times. I'm very honored when someone does that. Same goes with podfic or art.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope, haven't been able to yet. It's hard for me to find the time to dedicate to something more complex like that.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

I don't like to choose favorites. All my ships are beloved for various reasons, but wangxian is the one that first truly set my brain on fire.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I don't have one. If I want to finish it, I will finish it. I'm stubborn like that. It might take some time. I've had a few where it has taken me a couple of years to complete, but I still completed them.

I have had a few fics I've given up on because I didn't want to write them anymore.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I'm not sure. My writing is led by character emotions and I think people enjoy that. I've been told I am good at characterization.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I love clauses, give me all the clauses, who needs to end a sentence... we can just go on forever.

Long plotting and story structure is often overwhelming for me too.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

This feels like something strange to have an opinion on, honestly. If it fits the story then why wouldn't you? You just have to keep in mind what it tells the audience who are reading in the primary language.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

The Raven Cycle - a wonderful YA book series if you have not read it. It's my favorite book series.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

Oh no, more trying to choose. I honestly don't think I have one. If I wrote something long, it's because I had an idea I loved. And sometimes my short fic get to the crux of what I love about a show and distills it in a way that lets me roll around in it for a while. I think usually my favorite fic (and also my most hated fic) tends to be the one I am currently writing.

tagging @galauvant @dimplesandfierceeyes @sunshinedobi @bestbuds55 because I've seen you all writing lately, but no pressure! Feel free to pass if you don't want to do it.

[shsl-fander]

Logince Week Day 4

Prompt: Block by burnout

Tw: Overworking, lack of sleep, burn out, insecurities, harsh criticism

Pairing: Roman/Logan

Description: Roman's been working himself to the max for the past week but despite all his efforts, he absolutely hates everything hes making. He finds himself exhausted, drowning in his insecurities. Logan has to come and talk some sense into him and let him sleep.

Read on ao3 or under read more

@loginceweek2024

Roman slammed his head against his desk, his groaning muffled as his face stayed against the wood, frowning deeply. Everything he was producing was awful, nothing great like he should be making, nothing good enough, nothing that made him deserve the title of creativity.

He lacked the energy needed to work his best, and without the energy motivation him to strive, Roman took longer to do each small project, leaving him to work non stop the few days before Thomas needed it from him.

Typically Roman would ask Logan to help him brainstorm when the negative thoughts were clouding his brain. Ever since he'd let Logan know about some of his insecurities when they had tried that whole puppet thing, the logical trait had made a huge effort to be less critical on his work. Additionally, he'd been including Roman in many of his studies as well.

It made Roman feel appreciated, as opposed to worrying if he met up to Logan's expectations before. Logan was just so perfect, Roman adored him and everything he represented, he wanted not only to match that level but also to impress him, to make Logan love Roman too.

However, he couldn't ask Logan for help right now since Logan was so busy with his own work, he surely wouldn't have any interest in Roman's struggles.

He just felt so tired, the weight of his own eyelids feeling heavy on his face as he attempting to stay awake. He'd barely even gotten anything done, and reading all the stuff he had written made Roman feel so awful about himself he'd wished to curl up in a ball and just quit right then and there. Why couldn't he just make something incredible, he'd done it before?! A prince is supposed to excell all the time, not be pathetic and drown in his own self hatred then once in a while create something spectacular.

Roman had nearly drifted off to sleep, slumping over on his desk when he heard gentle knocks coming from his door. A familiar knock pattern, two short knocks followed by one longer knock, only one person was sophisticated enough to think the personalize the way they knocked in a way that felt professional for them : Logan.

Roman jolted up, springing out of his seat, slurring his words as he responded, "You may enter!"

Roman ran his hand over his face, attemping to wake himself up enough to where his royally fucked up state wouldn't be too obvious to his visitor. "Thought you were still workin', Specs?" he comments as he watched the door open, biting back his yawn.

Logan shook his head, stepping further into the prince's room. His eyes darted around the place before they focussed on Roman sitting at his desk. "Falsehood, I finished around an hour ago," he corrected, "I assumed you were finished as well and was wondering if you wanted to compare, to see how my data would match your writing?" he offered.

Roman felt a wave of panic rush over him, he frantically slammed his laptop shut, chuckling uncomfortably. "Oh! Right, that! Obviously that was the plan, as that's what we've been doing for ages! Ahah..."

Logan blinked, "Correct," he stated simply, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. "Are you alright, Roman? You seem tense," he asked, a hint of concern in his voice.

Roman bit his tounge, while it was clear Logan cared about his wellbeing and all, he couldn't just admit to Logan that he wasn't finished. He wasn't going to make himself look stupid in front of him like that.

"Roman, you do not need to lie to me, I can tell you're stressed," Logan sighed, setting his folders down on the ground and walking closer to Roman, standing by his desk. "What's bothering you?"

Roman relented, slumping over on his chair, "I've been working non stop for the past week and yet I have absolutely nothing to show for it!" he grumbled, "I've made like 7 different full drafts but I keep scrapping them become they're all royally awful and I can't put something like that up, what will everyone think of me?! And I'm just so tired but I can't be tired without anything good to show from it," he rambled, just spilling out his guts.

Roman took a deep breath," and the absolute last thing I wanted to do was dissapoint you, Teach," he admitted quietly.

Logan's eyes grew wide and he frowned deeply, "Do you really think that lowly of me?" he asked.

Roman's head shot up and he frantically shook his hands, "What?! No I don't think lowly of you, I think the exact opposite-" he started to defend himself but Logan interrupted him.

"I meant assuming you could dissapoint me, you could never dissapoint me," Logan insisted, reaching out to touch Roman's hand before he froze, blushing slightly. He decided upon resting his hand next to it instead, "Especially not with something like this. However, I assume you're being extremely hard on yourself right now, I'm sure you're looking at your work with an unfair lense."

Logan cleared his throat before he spoke, hoping to god that the racing of his heartbeat and warmth spreading across his face wasn't obvious to Roman and also didn't mean anything about the crush he had been trying to deny. "I formally apologize if I don't say it enough, but you really impress me Roman, consistently. It saddens me to see you look at your own creativity with such harsh eyes, but it's even worse to think I would think of you like that as well."

Logan shook his head," I can't believe I'm saying this, but the work can wait, I can make adjustments in Thomas's schedule to allow for it. You need to give yourself a break before you burn yourself out any further, " he instructed, spinning Roman's chair to face him.

"You look like you are two minutes away from passing out," he pointed out matter-of-factly.

Roman stammeres, opening his mouth to protest but Logan just stared back at him, giving him an all too familiar look. "I hate when you're right," he muttered, crossing his arms stubbornly.

"I am always right, you just only sometimes admit it," Logan countered with an amused smirk. "Trust me, you'll thank me later when you can start again with fresh eyes and will create something wonderful, I just know it. If you want I can assist you as well, since I should actually be free the majority of tomorrow."

Roman headed over towards his bed, snapping his fingers to conjure up more comfortable clothes that he could sleep in, automatically appearing already wearing them. He flopped down onto his bed, exhaustion already getting the best of him. He'd been too busy non stop writing that he hadn't had a good nights sleep in nearly 2 weeks.

Logan smiled softly, and oh there was this tug at his chest that made him feel as if his stomach was turning. Roman looked so...adorable, which was an odd thought for Logan to have, but he was certainly having it. Not to mention the way his hair was much messier than usual, sticking up in parts, or the way his eyes were blinking closed every few second. It was oddly endearing, and it made Logan just wanted to cup his face and kiss him, feeling the taste of his lips against his own and the way they'd gently press and...

"Ahem, I'll be uhm leaving now," Logan mumbled, his face almost completely pink now. He headed towards Roman's lamp to shut off the light.

"Wait! Specs?" Roman called out drowsily, hugging onto his stitch stuffed animal.

"Yes, Roman?"

Roman glanced up at Logan, a tender smile spread across his face. "Thank you for everything you said today, and thank you for giving me more time."

Logan's gaze softended, "Of course, I care about you Roman, much more than any project, even the most important ones. I'd much rather be months behind schedule than let you hurt yourself, remember that please."

And it was true, Logan deeply cared about Roman, more than he even began to understand. And Roman cared about Logan too, deeper than just wanting to make good content for him.

They loved each other, and soon enough they'd learn to tell each other that. For now, Roman needed to rest, so Logan clicked off his lamp and slowly snuck out of his room, shaking his heas fondly.

He'd always be here to check up on him, always

[djarinbabysnotes]

Two Pretenders: Act I, "A drink."

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Precis: His victories seemed to last these days, but his victory of loving her was short-lived.

Matt Murdock asks her out for a drink to catch up, only to find that he hasn't moved on, and neither has she.

Tags and Warnings: Reader uses she/her pronouns, Alcohol, Alcohol consumption, ANGST, friends to lovers to exes, eventual comfort, eventual happy ending

AO3 Publish date: 10 May 2023 (AO3 link here)

A/N: This oneshot is inspired by the song "Cool About It" by boygenius.

My first Matt Murdock fic, baby! Finally dipping my toes after observing the AO3 tags for Daredevil and I noticed that there are not enough hurt/no comfort ones out there. Probably because I'm just a sick son of a bitch who likes the emotional pain.

I'd like to thank AO3 user BellaGiornata for inspiring me to write again. Her unequalled dedication to write has pushed the creative juices in my brain to make something new.

This is a hydration check! Please drink some water before you proceed. Enjoy reading!

The cold was almost too much to bear in the streets of Hell's Kitchen.

She clutched a part of her coat like it was the only thing keeping her alive. A force of habit, it seems. The frosted sidewalk was at the precipice of making her slip– Maybe not by the wobble of her feet, but by the way she'd been weighing her words carefully before meeting him again. 

A drink. It was the most innocent ask for someone who pretends that July didn't break both of their hearts, especially his own. Of course it did, of course she saw, with every newspaper article on The Bulletin about the firm's newest victories in court. His victories seemed to last these days, but his victory of loving her was short-lived. He always had that tight-lipped, unfocused smile on his face for the cameras even if she knew that he would know where to look.

If the both of them were asked about their history, they probably wouldn't remember how it started and how it ended. Was it college during the org fair when he asked around at the information desk and fate brought him to her? Was it after he passed the bar and stumbled across the wrong street only to find her walking out of her 5th rejected job interview? Was it after the firm's first successful day in court when he realized that he was sitting next to her at Josie's? Was it before Fisk or after? What happened after Midland Circle? What happened after the firm went from Nelson and Murdock to no firm at all? 

She was a flame to him; Short-lived on a single matchstick, one that stood out from the rest of the box's contents, ready to give him the flame of what love could feel like for eternities to come. 

It had never been easy for him to commit in that way. It wasn't exactly part of the job, but it was more of the baggage that came when he was around; Whether it was from Matt Murdock or The Devil of Hell's Kitchen, he would always say that he wished he had more to give. 

And she believed him, she always did. She always will. Even if she repeatedly claimed that he was enough. Even if she repeatedly claimed that he'll be the only one who'll always be enough. 

She arrived at Josie's before nine in the evening, trying her best to ease the tightness around her chest by knowing what he could possibly know by the beat of it; The erratic, nervous thumps that were safely caged by her ribs were still loud enough for him to feel, to hear, to taste in harmony with the bitterness of the first beer that he already finished by the time she opened the door and stepped inside. He gulped nervously at the smell of the same perfume she had always worn, and even if she was a few feet away, he'd always seek her out. In every room, in the dark, he'd always seek the beat of her heart. 

Their fates met again with the most casual of pleasantries. He wanted to ask her so many things, or maybe let her talk about the past, but it felt like a breach when she started asking about how the firm was, or if work was hectic with new clients on the way, or if the workspace was adequate enough for his two other colleagues. He answered her kindly, a genuine smile on his face as he talked animatedly about Foggy and Karen fighting about the appropriate office temperature because of the heater. She listened to him with her whole heart, as he could tell, and not once did she bring up anything about his other job. 

She assumed that he didn't want to talk about that, so she never asked. 

Even if she had to pretend about not noticing his shaking hands, in tune with the calloused fists of the man who lived a double life and the recovering bruise around his busted lip— She held onto the civility that she had practiced all day. 

And when the first moment of silence came, he couldn't hold it back anymore. 

"Are you alright?" He asks with a tinge of hesitation, anticipating an answer that could possibly land him a slap on the cheek from the audacity of his question. 

But she remained calm, with the same tight-lipped smile that she learned from him, and replied with a practiced steadiness in her voice. "I'm good."

For a moment, he contemplated letting her lie or not, and he let her. 

By the middle of the evening, he started to notice that her actions were becoming less practiced; With the way she's slurring her words already, as was he, but she was much more inebriated by stumbling out the door, trying her best not to trip on his moving cane while holding onto his arm. He offered to walk her home, which she agreed to. Conversations about college happened sometime during the night, as he made fun of how the loud fellas by the pool table reminded him of a professor that he hated. Her laughs were just as beautiful as he remembered, and even if the beat of her heart was skipping from time to time because of the hesitation to be close to him, he let it slide. 

But it was breaking him, of course it was, because by the time they reached the street of her building he was hearing the same erratic beats all over again. He didn't exactly know why. 

He didn't know about the nights she crashed every bar from the other side of the city where she'd also been getting boxing lessons, almost becoming a regular by the small coffee shops and karaoke machines, ordering her coffee as the exact way he liked it and singing the same sad song over and over again, only to stumble upon the wrong alleys before hailing a cab home. She denied it from her friends, how the short-lived romance of three weeks was not a big deal. But this was about Matthew. Her Matthew. The idiot who playfully brags about his law degree after his fifth bottle of some kind of German beer. The only person who didn't hesitate to hold her hand during her episodes of stress-sobbing because of her god-awful boss. The only one she'd love unconditionally until the end of time. 

And when they reached her front door, she had to pretend that she couldn't notice his eyes beginning to water behind the rose-colored glasses. She simply said her goodbyes, and when he asked if they could meet again for the following week—

"Sure. It was nice to see you, Matt." And there it was— The tremble. The hurt. The unpracticed reply. The rawness of vulnerability. 

In which he had to reply, "I feel the same way."

He knew why the air was filled with salt by the time he started walking away, but simply chose to pretend not to know at all. He drowned in the scent of it, remembering everything, feeling everything, until reaching the other side of the street, standing by his own front door to let out a sob. 

Because they both knew that it wasn't true. When she said that she was good. When she said that it was nice to see him.  

But at least he was somewhat truthful by the end, knowing that he'll always feel the same, even if knowing that the tears that she had already shed for him could drown him in an instant, wishing he knew how to swim just to be with her again. 

In the end, maybe this was all they could get. Her telling him that she's doing good. Him pretending that she's not lying about it at all.

[starstwinkleplanetsshine]

Daughter of the Sea

Chapter Fourteen: Happy Birthday to Me (And Percy)

(Read on AO3 here)

Two days after the reunion, it was Percy and I’s birthday. He said he never advertised the date much, since it fell right after Camp and he didn’t have many mortal friends, but he said mom had planned a small party to celebrate. As far as I was concerned, that sounded perfect. My adopted mom would be flying into the city in a few days, and Sally was making a blue, two-tiered cake with blue frosting. I was the happiest girl alive. 

Chiron had manipulated the mist enough so that Paul would think I had always been around, so he would never remember a time when Percy didn’t have a twin sister. He was a nice guy, and treated me kindly, so I approved of him right away. I also got to meet Tyson, our half-brother Cyclops, so that was extra-special. When he found out that I was his sister, he lifted me up in the air and spun me around, nearly crushing me with his excitement. 

“Now I have brother and sister?! This is the best day!” Percy laughed at the scene, and I couldn’t help but join in. 

I walked into the kitchen to move the cakes (mom had baked extra for Tyson) to the living room table only to see Paul and Percy in the middle of what seemed to be a serious conversation. 

“Oh, sorry, I was just coming for the cakes.” 

Paul was startled for a second, then relaxed when he saw it was me. “No no, stay! I was just about to ask Percy something important, and you should be here, too.” He shuffled where he stood and wrung his hands, like he was nervous, before taking a deep breath. “Your mom,” he said, looking between Percy and I, “I’m thinking about proposing to her.” 

Percy almost dropped his cup. 

“You mean…marrying her? You and her?” 

“Well that was the general idea. Would that be okay with you?” I realized he was asking me and Percy, of course he was, but a part of me felt that wasn't my place. I looked to my brother. 

“You’re asking my permission?” I almost rolled my eyes at him. 

Paul scratched his beard. “I don’t know if it's permission, so much, but she’s your mother. And I know you’re going through a lot. I wouldn't feel right if I didn’t talk to you about it first.” 

Percy was silent for a minute, and then he smiled. “I think that’s a great idea, Paul. Go for it.” 

Paul looked at me, and I nodded in agreement. “What Percy said.” 

He smiled really wide then. “Cheers, Percy, Angie. Let’s join the party.” 

We were just getting ready to blow out the candles when the doorbell rang.

My mom frowned. “Who could that be?” 

I looked at Percy, but he just shrugged. Mom opened the door and gasped. Standing in the door was a man I’d never seen before wearing Bermuda shorts, a Hawaiian shirt, and Birkenstocks. His black beard was neatly trimmed and his sea-green eyes twinkled, eyes that looked exactly like Percy’s. And mine. He wore a battered cap decorated with fishing lures. It said NEPTUNE’S LUCKY FISHING HAT, which was a dead give-away. I sat there frozen, not sure what to do. 

“Pos—” My mother stopped herself. She was blushing right to the roots of her hair. “Um, hello.”

“Hello, Sally,” Poseidon said. “You look as beautiful as ever. May I come in?”

My mother made a squeaking sound that might’ve been either a “Yes” or “Help.” Poseidon took it as a yes and came in.

Paul was looking back and forth between all of us, trying to read our expressions. Finally he stepped forward. “Hi, I’m Paul Blofis.”

Poseidon raised his eyebrows as they shook hands. “Blowfish, did you say?” Under other circumstances, I might've laughed. But then, I felt like I was about to black out. Paul and Poseidon exchanged a few more words, but I couldn't hear them. My brain was racing a million miles a minute—I was about to talk to my dad, the god of the sea, for the first time. I felt at a total disadvantage, knowing Percy had seen him at least a few times before. I wondered if he was this nervous the first time they met, too. 

“Well!” My mom interrupted. “Um, we’re so glad you could drop by. Paul, this is Percy and Angie’s father.”

“Ah.” Paul nodded, though he didn’t look real pleased. “I see.” 

Poseidon smiled at Percy. “There you are, my boy. And Tyson, hello, son!”

“Daddy!” Tyson bounded across the room and gave Poseidon a big hug, which almost knocked off his fishing hat. He hadn’t even looked my way yet. My hands started shaking, and I was a little jealous of how free Tyson felt around him. 

“I couldn’t miss Percy’s fifteenth birthday,” Poseidon said. “Why, if this were Sparta, Percy would be a man today!”

“That’s true,” Paul said. “I used to teach ancient history.” 

Poseidon’s eyes twinkled. “That’s me. Ancient history.” He then turned his gaze to me, and when his green eyes met mine, I felt like I was going to melt. “And there was someone very special I had to meet.” He smiled kindly at me, and took a few steps forward. “Sally, Paul, Tyson, Angie…would you mind if I borrowed Percy for a moment?” He put his arm around Percy and steered him into the kitchen, and I stood there with tears in my eyes. 

Sally was by my side in an instant, rubbing my back lightly. “Just give them a minute, sweetie. I’m sure your father wants to have his own time with you.” I could see Paul making a point to not look at the scene I was causing, and I could only imagine what he was thinking at the time. 

All three of Poseidon's children were here. One of them nearly knocked him over with a hug, one was spending one-on-one time with him in the kitchen, and the other was in the living room, crying. 

The party took a turn really fast. 

Seeing my father for the first time brought old emotions back to the surface. 

I had spent years feeling the sting of my father’s abandonment. It always hurt worse than my birth mother’s, because at least I still had someone to call mom. And then I learned the truth, and I got to camp, and I realized I never really had been abandoned by my mom. 

The same couldn’t be said for my father. 

Months, years, of resentment started bubbling inside me and I felt hot jealousy rise in my chest at the way Percy’s eyes lit up when he saw him. 

After about ten minutes, Percy walked out of the kitchen, and I couldn’t tell how he felt. He seemed happier, but also like he had a new weight on his shoulders, and he was holding something white in his hand. He walked straight to me. 

“Dad wants to see you.” 

My mouth went dry as the desert. “Okay.” I got out, but I didn’t move. I couldn’t. 

Percy smiled at me and patted my shoulder. “You’ll be alright, I think he’s nervous, too.” Then he shot a quick Look to Paul and leaned in closer. “When it comes to gods, he’s one of the chill ones.” 

That made me feel a little better, but my hands were still shaking as I walked into the kitchen. 

Poseidon was sitting at the kitchen counter, but he stood up as soon as I walked in. Percy had been right—he did seem nervous. 

“Andromeda, I mean, Angie. You don’t know how happy I am to finally meet you.” His eyes sparkled kindly, and I felt a thousand emotions at once. 

“Umm, hi.” I didn’t know any other words. 

“I know you must have a lot of questions. Come, sit.” He sat back down and motioned to the stool across from him. I sat down numbly. 

“I don’t have much time, and I’m sorry for that.” He continued. “I wish I could spend the whole night with you, and that still wouldn’t be enough to make up for the time, I know. But there are battles raging below with the old sea gods, and I must defend my palace.” 

You know, super normal things to hear from your dad. 

I nodded. 

“I was so happy that you finally made it to camp, I had been eagerly waiting for that day.” 

“Why did you abandon me?” The words tumbled out of my mouth, my confused tears turning to anger. All those years alone and confused while Percy got to train and find purpose at camp—some nights it ate me alive. 

My dad sighed. “It was not an easy decision, my daughter.” I got defensive hearing him call me that—what right did he have to use that word? “I didn’t want to split you up at all, but I knew it was the only way to keep you both safe. I knew you would be protected by my sister, Hestia, and she far exceeded my expectations.” 

I looked down, suddenly embarrassed by my outburst. 

“But ultimately,” Poseidon continued, “I knew you would fare better on your own. Don't tell your brother I said this, but he needed his mother in a way that you didn't. Knowing the trials you both would face,” his face darkened, and I wondered what he knew, “I knew it would be harsh, but in the end, you didn’t need anyone but yourself.”

I let his words wash over me, mixing with the realities I had told myself for so long that were coming crashing down. He had chosen to send me away, but because he knew I was strong. He did choose Percy over me, but because it was preparing me for something greater? 

My head felt like it was spinning. 

“But I don't want you to think you were ever alone,” He continued, “I was always watching.” His eyes were genuine and kind, and mine were filled with tears. “Every science fair project, swim meet, and dance recital—which, by the way, you should've gotten that solo in sixth grade, not Mckenna Bree—I was there. Always keeping an eye on my little girl.” 

The tears were falling down my face now, and I wasn’t trying to stop them. His words didn’t take away all the pain growing up so lonely caused, but it definitely healed some of the wounds. Just knowing he knew I was there was more than I ever thought I would get. 

He reached out his hand like he wanted to wipe my tears away, and then faltered. I didn’t know what I would have done if he did. 

“One more thing before I forget.” He said as he pulled something out of his pocket. I looked down in his hand and had to try not to frown. Sitting there was a puka shell necklace, like they wore in the 90s. 

“Oh, wow…thanks.” 

Poseidon laughed lightly. “Things are often more than they seem.” His eyes were gleaming. “May I?” I turned around and let him clip it around my neck. It was tighter than my camp necklace, which now had one bead painted with a small labyrinth on it. “Percy has his special weapon, Riptide, I believe he calls it, so I thought my daughter needed something equally special, all of her own.” I furrowed my brow at him, confused. I trailed my finger along the shells, and Poseidon smiled. “You’ve got the idea. Now pull.” 

I looked at him like he was crazy. 

“Pull?” 

He nodded, and I figured why not. I ripped at the necklace, careful to avoid the leather rope of my other one, expecting for the shells to fly all over the kitchen floor. But they didn’t. And when I looked in my hand, I wasn’t holding the necklace. 

I was holding a beautiful, perfectly balanced, gleaming celestial bronze sword with a small trident inlaid on the hilt right above the blade. 

“Whoa!” I turned it over in my hands, not believing what just happened. “This is amazing!” 

My father was smiling widely. “Now you’ll never be without a way to defend yourself. But that’s not all.” 

My eyes got wider with excitement. 

“There’s more?” 

He nodded. “To return the weapon back to its resting form, simply say ‘nostos’” 

“Nostos.” I repeated, and in moments I was wearing a necklace again, perfectly undamaged. “Returning.” I said, not knowing how I knew the translation. 

Poseidon nodded, pleased. “To remind you that you always have a home to return to. What belongs to the sea can always return to the sea.” 

Then I did something I never thought I would ever do—I hugged my dad. 

He seemed surprised at first, but then he let his arms close around me and he gave me a squeeze. He smelled like the freshest ocean breeze, and a warmth spread through me. At that moment, he wasn’t the god of the oceans, he was just my dad. And maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t the worst father out there. 

“I said there’s more!” He said with a laugh. “This time, tap the necklace twice and then pull.” I did as he said, and instead of a sword, a five-foot trident appeared in my hands, also gleaming celestial bronze and decorated with sparkling pearls, seashells, and seaglass. My mouth fell open. 

“A daughter of the sea deserves a weapon worthy of the title.” Poseidon was beaming even wider than before, and I could hardly form words. It was the most beautiful weapon I had ever seen, and I felt power surge through my fingertips. 

“I don’t even know how to use a trident…” 

“Chiron will train you, don’t worry about that. Plus,” he got a glint in his eye, “something tells me it’ll come naturally to you.” 

“Thank you,” I couldn't think of any words to express how happy I felt. “This is the best gift ever!” 

Poseidon's smile fell slightly. “I know it doesn’t make up for all the years, but I hope it’s acceptable as a token of my care for you.” He smiled sadly and cupped my face in his hands. To my surprise, I let him. “My love for you.” 

He was right, but at least he was trying. The trident in my hand was proof of that. 

“Thanks, Dad.” His eyes seemed to glow brighter hearing me call him that, and a part of me started to believe he actually did mean what he said. 

“Well, I should go.” He shifted, and if a god could look nervous, he did. “I’ve been away too long already. But it was worth it to finally meet you.” He put a hand on my shoulder, and I swear I’d never felt stronger in my life. “Tell Percy goodbye for me.” He started to turn, and then faltered before turning back to me. “Hold fast, Angie. Your time will come, and I’ll be with you when it does. So will your brother. Until then, enjoy your birthday cake.” 

And just like that he turned to mist and was swept out the window on a warm ocean breeze. 

[eveningalchemist]

10 First Lines

Of my latest fics! I was tagged by @ruiniel :D Thank you thank you for tagging! I haven't published in a while but I love to be included. I don't have 10 works on AO3 but I do have one that is a bunch of poems and shorts from a prompt event so that'll be the last 6. I guess I could have used the 10 latest chapter starts of my long fic but that's another prompt for another time.

A deep thrum that was more a feeling than a sound struck the fabric of the invisible world. (Seduction to Destruction)

In a bluster of snow and a scream of grinding hinges, the gates to Utumno were opened. (The Littlest Utumno Tree)

When time still held onto each second, enjoying its own passage before the ages began to speed through its grip, the Ainur of Arda flourished in their Spring. (Golden Times)

It was time for house-keeping. (House-Keeping After His Apocalypse)

He was a cacophony (All Shall Fade)

I fall softly into sound. (Stars Hide Your Fires)

The bastard was beautiful (Wild Hunt)

Still stuck in this form, I howl and I rage (The Iron Price)

Perhaps his eyes are too bright, or his canines just too pointed (hence his close lipped smiles) or perhaps it is merely his body language that in private moments can betray his anger and his greed. (Beauty is Terror)

Gold and jewels and fine silk and finer hair dripped from a figure as if from an open wound. (Blood is Thicker Than Water)

The shorter ones are mostly the poems, but otherwise I seem to drop a longer description, whether physical or ethereal. Also I seem to like using sounds to start? I wouldn't have noticed that if I hadn't looked at these all together. Maybe it's the physics education in me? Or since these are all Silmarillion fics, using sounds/music just makes sense. <3 I'll tag @jaynovz @saintstars @sauron-kraut @etoilesombre @bthump @asterofthevoid and anyone else feel free to do it and tag me! Also anyone let me know like in a reply or message if you'd be okay with a tag in these kinds of things because I am always racking my brain for usernames as if I've never known anyone online ever. I'd love to make a list I can just copy. (Or text STOP to get me to stop tagging you :P)