#i think long paragraphs and fic absolutely Fuck and enjoy every moment i get to see the wheels turn in both the characters and authors head

[lorelune]

the discourse on the dash today 😳

[eybefioro]

Weekly fic rec, by yours truly...

Even after all this, you still have time. It's cold, but soon enough, the season will change. We watch the snow fall, the days going by. We share stories, we get warm by the fireplace. There's still time, and there's still your favourite restaurant down the road. There's still your favourite show, there's still the hug from a loved one. There's still everything that makes time worthwhile.

on the same page by Chekhov

Rated E, ~118k words.

My tags: satisfying, entrancing, hopeful.

Summary

Aziraphale Z. Fell is a rising star of the spiritual literary genre - the next Eat Pray Love guy - and his version of Chicken Soup For the Christian Soul is flying off the shelves. It's not that he's not grateful, but it's one thing to enjoy a career in writing and another completely to be pigeonholed into a specific genre, so much so that you are almost forbidden from writing anything else. So yes, maybe he has a bit of a secret. An outlet for his less... appropriate urges. And yes, if his typical readership got word of the sort of paragraphs he could put out on a particularly inspired night, they might suffer some form of heart attack typical for their age. But all of that is well hidden, and there is absolutely no way anyone would ever find out about his Arrangement with A.J. Crowley - the most debaucherous romantic fiction author of the decade. That is... until they have to pretend to be married to each other.

I love me some long human AU. I love to read these long ones and let myself just fall into the story, see how everything develops, really dedicate some time to it, and immerse myself in this new universe. See the characters that we know so well in a complete different context but still being somewhat the same.

And this one does it so, so well. Crowley and Aziraphale are so true to their characters in this fic, and it's spun in such a way that even though it's a completely different background and situation, it's still so them. It's still the same story. Still the same absurd longing and dancing around that we see, and that's so wonderful! Idk how the author did it, but it's so impressive. Don't get me wrong, I don't think it's necessary to be accurate to the characters for a fanfic to be good. I feel like in every fic, they will be different, and that's GOOD. Fandom is a sandbox for us to play in. Nonetheless, I will say it again, this fic is impressive in that sense; their motivations, their story, their situation, the way they talk, how they think... it's very true to them. Besides that, the characters are all so well written. They feel real.

I love how the story is told. You don't get the whole picture at first, you don't understand their whole situation and relationship. You get feed details slowly, in the moments where they are needed, and just by the end you actually are able to sit and see it all. It's so engaging, and makes you understand both points of view. Why and how they endured all this time, all this longing.

Also, the thing about both of them being authors and writing each others books, and meeting through fanfiction? That was so genius. It scratched my brain so well. It's just so fitting, the whole arrangement is so well constructed. Aziraphale’s relationships with Gabriel, church and family is so well described. You can really get his way of thinking, and the choice he and Crowley constantly make to Not Talk About It, the one that makes you want to shove them in a room and make them fucking communicate, is... is totally understanble by the end. I was like, yeah, if I was in this situation I'd probably do the same, even if it makes me mad. I could relate a lot to Aziraphale and understand his thinking (although that may not be a surprise lol).

On that note: the use of the fake marriage trope is so well implemented and fits with the characters in the story in such a way that is uncanny. It really feels like something they'd think it's reasonable to do. This is such a idiotXidiot story it's infuriating in the best fucking away. It's so in sync with both seasons of the show, and it was written before season 2! But don't worry they end up together. It's like the author spun that and actually gave some closure, and made them fucking talk LMAO

Also, this fic deals with some sensitive topics, especially homophobia and its consequences, but it's done in such a sensible manner. Yes, they face some pretty bad shit (especially Aziraphale in the past), but they aren't told in a violent (?) manner? Like, the violence is not romanticised, it's not there for us bawl over. The characters deal with it and are triumphant in the end. They are resilient and strong, and even if they suffer because of homophobia, they get to rebuilt their lives and be happy. They get their good ending, and they win.

The writing in this fic is also incredible. I metaphors are delicious, the way the feelings are described, and how everything develops. It's just such a good read, keeping you on your toes. It's funny, it's sad, it's infuriating (as I said before, in a good way), it's hopeful, it's beautiful, it's hot. It's many things at the same time, but above all, it's satisfying. It makes you go through all those emotions with the characters, but by the end, you get to see them happy, free, and communicating. It's delightful writing. Really. There are some paragraphs that I will be thinking for a long time because they hit HARD.

This fic is like balancing craving and indulgence, like having a bar of chocolate that you just eat a little piece every day, because you want to make it last, only to then notice that you can buy more if you want to. It's like a good, deserved piece of cake that tastes like happiness.

[fandomfluffandfuck]

i havent seen the inside of your ask box for ages so let me just say i finished money magic and WOAH. leave some talent for the rest of us damn. also. im going to add ‘financial domination’ to my mental list of kinks and im doing it with a sly smirk on my face because id never heard of it before this fic and i certainly will be looking for more in the future.

i genuinely think im into it only because you write it so. fucking. well. i love this community youve built where so many people can discover new kinks through your writing and it makes me so happy being able to find out new things about myself from a piece of art like this. i just love fandom sometimes.

plus i think of your blog as a haven bc i can come here anytime i want and its like someone took all the things i love about fandom and put it through your brain then onto here. a true blessing.

ok onto the fic itself, i have a few things to say:

1) i will never get over the way you build up to the climax of the fic. like, from the beginning, its always so obvious that something big is going to happen and i just can never wait until the next update to find out. i dont think ive ever skim read one of your paragraphs because every word pulls me in a makes me want moreee.

2) the way you use imagery in your work is actually something i think should be studied because you do it SO WELL. an example from chapter one that i cant stop thinking about;

His mind whirls. He’s back to spinning out of control. It feels as though his head might come off his shoulders, twisted and twisted and twisted around, thinning his neck, and becoming too unsteady.

like hello???? i can picture every tiny little detail of this moment and its insane how you can just do that.

3) the chemistry between your characters never feels forced or awkward. ive noticed that you dont use dialogue too much when writing smut and i love that because it lets the reader really visualise whats going on. but when you do its absolutely perfect. the way you kept the power dynamics going steadily throughout and even when they were talking on the balcony, it just made me realise how much you really care about what you write and it made reading so much more enjoyable.

theres literally like a million other things i could say but im not gna ramble here. instead, take some snippets that i especially enjoyed that i will think about for a long, long time:

A shiver wracks Steve’s body, accompanied by a rough exhale that fills his bedroom—a confession of how much he’s enjoying this by its very nature.

-

Steve shivers so hard it might as well be a convulsion. Good. The way his words leave no room for argument, for thought, for anything but all this electric embarrassment to fill his veins and circulate throughout his body, polluting him tip to tail. Jesus. He commands all of Steve without being there. It’s heady. He can feel himself being pulled in like a sailor, lonely after months at sea, to a siren.

-

A moan comes tumbling out of his mouth, humiliated to the point that he feels dizzy. He couldn’t stand and walk straight if he tried, he’d stumble and fall onto his knees. He wants to stumble and fall and have Bucky push his heavy hands into his hair, he wants to feel the cold metal of his rings and the blunt sharpness of his fingernails against his scalp as he grabs and pulls and twists, making sure Steve feels his place.

-

Steve imagines this is what being a pinata feels like, struck hard enough that it's twirling around its point of suspension, unable to know what’s up or down, left or right, just focused on each hit and when the next one is going to come, then, ah!, all of the sudden spilling its bounty.

-

i could put the whole fic here but you know. that’d be too long. ill just have to hope what ive said here is enough.

bottom line is that im OBSESSED and i will be taking the pleasure of rereading this fic as soon as i can. thank you so much for sharing!!! lots of love 💗

"Money Magic"

YOU ARE SO SWEET, ARCHIE!

Thank you, lovely <3

I'm so glad to hear that you finished that fic, and, more importantly, that you enjoyed the read so much! You're too kind. Haha, I'm hitting you again with the kink discovery. I think if I can't find a job (a scarily real threat, lmao), I can make a job of that alone 💀💀 I, too, though, am going to be looking for more of it! I haven't found anything else with fin domming in stucky fics, but I would love to!

I'm honored that it's even a possibility that you'd just be into it because of the way I write it <3 Me too!! I love the absolute filth I can write and people not batting an eye, aside from horny reactions that I enjoy very much. Thank you. Plus, even better, so many people have come into my inbox to say depraved, kinky shit. Like. YES. Discover more kinks from me, tell me more about your kinks, and let's explore it all. Not you calling my porn writing art

(Like, absolutely, porn is art. Art inspires emotion, and horny is a valid emotion. I wholeheartedly believe that and would very readily call lots of other writers erotica art, but hearing that about my own? Wtf. Shits wild)

And calling my blog a haven?! Staaawp. You're too cute and nice, I can't take it

1) Ah! I'm so glad to hear that 'cause I plan out my fics EXTENSIVELY, lmao, and I try very hard to up myself consistently within my longer, chaptered fics.

2) You are so fucking sweet I am gonna scream. Oh my god!! I love how you pulled quotes from my text! What the hell??? That's so nice!

3) Thank you, thank you, thank you!! I feel like I use a lot of dialog 💀💀 That's probably because I think so hard about my dialog, though, lol. I do care, definitely. I care too much sometimes 😅 but, yeah, I try to always think, okay, but would the character actually ever say or behave like that? Both this AU character, but also the canon character because the AU is, of course, a canon extension/expansion.

Aww, I don't have words (which is saying something for me, haha)! Again, though, I love, love, love that you included snippets that stuck out to you!

YOU'RE SO SWEET!

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING AND THANK YOU FOR SUCH WONDERFUL COMMENTS ALONG THE WAY!

[hypnagogics]

ENNA ENNA ENNA. MY ENNABAE. what an absolute masterpiece you have graced us here on this day, (ignore the fact im late shshshhs) but this…….THIS? is a masterpiece worth framing in solid gold, worth converting into a lollipop so i can slobber over it properly without damaging my beloved devices. maybe ill print it out…and slobber all over it that way. hm. this had me running literal laps, chewing on my actual desk, shoving my phone inside- WHAT. :sideeye: as if i didn't need sev so bad before, i need her impossibly more now. get ready to be bombarded with all the edits as i go on a rampage after reblogging this but anyway - twin, i love you and your silly scrumdiddlyumptious genius brain, and im so excited to dive into the yapping of appreciating yet another one of your bangers. enna write a bad fic challenge? IMPOSSIBLE. NEVER HAPPENED. NUH UH. and awayyyy we go. ALSO IGNORE THE ERRORS IM LAZY TO MAKE THIS PROPER so you're getting chaos. enjoy.

you set the beginning so well, OH MY GOD YESHSHJADHAL. love love LOVE the way you describe reader, seeing diversity and features described in a positive way always warms my heart, its so needed!! and bottom sevika. thats it thats the sentence.

im obsessed with how you describe her, bitch do you know her personally? you really are the sevika connoisseur, because the characterization is beyond perfect. her tough, rough around the edges exterior, used as a cover to her true nature…oh yes. gimme more. i wanna RUIN her. and i want her to YELL at me while i do so.

sevika doesn’t come to the brothel to fuck, she comes to get fucked. it’s almost impossible to miss, but nearly every night you watch her stroll in with her perfect posture, and then watch her stumble out of the doorway, practically tripping over her feet as she tries to zip up her pants and button up her shirt before anyone can see her half-naked body. hickies and bright red lipstick smudges paint her neck, and she’s still panting as her unsteady legs wobble themselves out of the door and down the street.

THIS. BLOODY. PARAGRAPH. we are in the very beginning and i already need to take a breather and reconnect with society because the image you presented us with…i am genuinely without words. GIVE. ME. THAT. MREWOWOWEAKLJASDKJLDAKJLKSDLJADLSA J BARK BARK BARK AWOOOOOOOO.

the next paragraph about how reader had to take a breather made me laugh…because the realness is much too real. omg if only. idk whats with me but there is something so mind-meltingly delicious about describing a famously strong woman such as abby, ellie, sevika as being the one getting fucked to mush makes me want to stuff them in my mouth whole. its just so……………..MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM.

the girls don’t hear you, to your luck, too busy smooshing their brightly colored lips over sevika’s to see which color suits her the most, while she trembles and blushes with a vibrator between her legs.

IM GONNA C- ahem. where were we. um. i forgot. ima need to speed this up other wise i will copy paste your entire fic here and yap on until i reach the (idk if it exists) word limit of a tum tum post.

another thing you do so fantastically well is how you describe the little moments, things we wouldn't think twice about in real life, but that really make a scene in literature. the silent looks, the yearning, the little things one does in attempt to cover up their attraction, perfect.

is it bad that i hate the other girls…like. THAT SHOULD BE USSSSSSS MOVE TF OUT THE WAY BRUH. when they couldnt come into work, i almost jumped up and cheered. FINALLYYYYYYYYY WE GET A TURN. YAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYYA. as we fuckin should. GET SICK. SHES OURS NOW.

also a little detail i loved, is how you bolded the dialogue. it made it so easy to read and follow along with, your dialogue always has such character to it as well, could read you rewrite shakespeare or whatever else the fuck. just as long as you dictate what comes out of the characters’ mouths. also the progression was paced so well, slow enough that it made me just the right amount of antsy to find out what was gonna happen next, but fast enough where every event was all the more satisfying as it came along. that is a skill which i struggle with, and im so jealous how you got down. gimme some of that!!

for the first time since she started coming in, you don’t feel jealous. you feel hopeful. sevika knows you now, and she likes you, even if she’s not obsessed with you in the same way you are with her. the back of your hand muffles your smile, you can’t wait until her 60 minutes are up and you get to see her again, and you really hope she winks at you again. or does something even better, like blows you a kiss, or gets down on one knee with a ring, or recites you a personal love poem.

LALALALALALALALAALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALLAALLA I AM GIGGING AJALJADHLELRHJLEAHFILSDH.

“well, i’m not saying no.” you grin, and she smiles at you again, and you hope that image of her is burned into your memory forever. she’s beautiful, it’s not hard to recognize that, but it’s a different feeling when you get to admire her up close. like a painting, you see images and replicas of them everywhere, but seeing them with your own eyes is always breathtaking. you can see every brushstroke, every small detail you hadn’t before, and it really comes to life.

oh the description of here here……its so beautiful im boutta tear up. the love and care you pour into your work always stuns me, YOU ARE JUST SO FULL OF LOVE.

the flirting back n forth here too had my heart racing, i was like COME ONANNANNNNNNN GAHHHH. but we must exercise patience.

you lean forward on the counter, holding your warm cheeks in your hands. “you should know the effect that you have on people.”

THE TENSION YOU MADE. had to stop and chug my energy drink thats gonna fuck up my sleep because my fingers cant move fast enough (thats what she said) to tell you how fucking DELICIOUS THIS IS ARE YOU KIDDING im tryna be eloquent but i really just wanna yell. can you blame me?

coulndt wait to get to the smut bit i was boutta lose my shit..need her so bad…oh my god did it not disappoint.

and that’s how you find yourself stripping her naked with your teeth, the two of you sprawled out on a heart shaped bed. her shirts are always short and extremely revealing, but you still gasp and twitch when her abs are finally revealed to you. her v-line is thick and deep and it leads a perfect trail to her dripping hole, as if her thick, dark happy trail wasn’t enough.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. SCREAMING CRYING CUMMING PEEING FARTING EVERYWHERE LITERALLY WHAT THE FUCK okay sorry i need to be muzzled.

okay i dont have coherent comments for the rest of this but the smut. enna. i am gonna grab you by the shoulders and look you in the eyeballs and tell you this is the best smut i have evr read in my almost year of being on tumblr. im being serious. i will be coming back and SNORTING that scene up its actually short circtuiting my mind. going feral is an UNDERSTATEMENT. that was so hot i actually dont know how you did that i need to punch something. the descriptions, the dirty talk, she aint on cloud nine I AM. FUCK. actually losing my literal marbles idk what to say.

never in a million years did you expect sevika'd be such a sacrificial angel, a dirty slut with needs.

im. um. inhale. oooooooooooooohhhhhmmmyyyyyyyyyyYYYYYYYGAAAAAAAAAWDDDDDDDDDDD.

this. life changing. i need it in ways i cannot even describe. DREAM SCENARIO. im going to scream so loud youll be able to hear me. and every time you do, thats just me rereading this and freaking the fuck out!! not to worry. but wow. wow, wow, wow. im stunned, im never gonna forget this, what a fantastic work, start to finish. all i can do now is stand my ass up, and clap until the moon says hello.

SACRIFICIAL ANGEL

ʕっ•ᴥ•ʔっ good evening sevika nation, continuation of this because y’all are enablers who are bad for my screen time… just kidding aaaah i love you horny freaks and i don’t know what i’d do without you <33

cw: bottom dom!sevika x pervert!loser!reader, a tiny bit of voyeurism (if it even counts as that), reader bartends at the brothel, sevika is suchhhhh a flirt, found family trope????, strap usage, bondage, tribbing, etc etc etc. i really am all over the place with this one 🤦 hope u enjoy anyways

word count: 6.8k

you’d been bartending at babette’s for about 3 months when you first saw her. cracking her knuckles as she sauntered in with a wolfish grin, her long torso and even longer legs making her easily tower over the girls she came to see. never once had you felt jealousy toward them. in fact, you thought they had a harder job than you did— dealing with drunk old men who practically abused them and then left without sparing a tip wasn’t a job for just anyone. but now? you’ve never wanted to be one of them more.

it’s not that you’re not pretty, but you’re just so different from babette’s girls. you’re bigger and taller than them, trading in the slim curves of their bodies for thick muscle that coats your thighs and biceps. and you act differently, too. you’re not as sweet as them, and it honestly baffles you that they can always manage to treat their rudest customers with the utmost respect.

sevika comes in a few times a week, such an admirable woman to be in a place like this. she’s always sporting a scowl or a smirk, depending on her attitude for the day, and a fresh new scar or coating of blood on her knuckles. but there’s something you know about her that hardly anyone else does.

sevika doesn’t come to the brothel to fuck, she comes to get fucked. it’s almost impossible to miss, but nearly every night you watch her stroll in with her perfect posture, and then watch her stumble out of the doorway, practically tripping over her feet as she tries to zip up her pants and button up her shirt before anyone can see her half-naked body. hickies and bright red lipstick smudges paint her neck, and she’s still panting as her unsteady legs wobble themselves out of the door and down the street.

the first time you saw her this way, you had to take a breather behind the bar before you got so dizzy you returned home, faking an illness. she turns you on so much it’s hard to believe. and oh, how you’d kill to see what happens behind those closed doors.

to see sevika, all six feet of her warm brown skin and tight muscles on display, legs spread as wide as they can as her sopping cunt sucks in one girls strap, while another shoves a gag in her mouth, taking her hands and tying them together with a scrap of rope. how she’d completely submit to these angels, letting them use her however they please until her vocal cords give out and she’s laying in a pool of her own cum. and how she’d cover herself in that “scary lady” facade again as she leaves, thinking that what happens in that room stays in the room, although you know her secret. and you see it every night, whether it’s real or just another one of your perverted daydreams.

and so she walks in tonight like clockwork. the building is practically empty considering the time, one of the only benefits of working this late is to see her. she never looks your way, though, and why should she? she practically gets fed free drinks from her friends at the last drop, and it’s borderline disgraceful for her to have eyes for a woman like you when she has these gorgeous dolls promising to take good care of her.

they whisk her away in an instant. you’ve gotten to know these girls pretty well, they’re all sweethearts who crowd around your bar at the end of their shift. crystal, the shortest one, is so good with her words it’s baffling. she can smooth talk anyone into anything, and her friendly flirting never fails to make you giggle. monica, the oldest one, is so witty it almost makes you jealous. your jokes are nothing compared to her quick remarks, and she could easily take you in a fight if you didn’t have a few extra inches on her. ivy, the fairy, as you all call her, is the sweetest little nymph you’ve ever met. she often shares her extra tips with you when times get tough, and she’s always quick to offer you a helping hand behind the bar when you get swarmed.

it’s not a real family, but it’s the closest you’ve ever had. they look out for you and you do the same for them, quick to drag away any of the old men who harass them and scare them away with the sharp edges of your knuckles.

you watch as monica tugs at sevika’s choker like it’s a collar, dragging her away as the other two girls practically dangle off of her muscular arms. it must be a form of torture, watching them disappear behind those doors again. but you sigh and flip over the record that’s slowed to a stop on the turntable, hoping the sweet, melodic jazz will numb your brain long enough to survive the final hours of your shift. you sweep the floors, rinse out the glasses, and wipe down the bar.

without anything else to do, you sit and stare at the big stained glass window in front of you. your mind easily wanders, imagining your warm bed at home, the leftovers you’re gonna devour later, and sevika, as always. if only all of your money could purchase her attention, but even then attention doesn’t always equate to fondness.

your boredom gets to the best of you, and you wander out from behind the bar, peering down the long hallway. in hopes of what? nobody else is in here besides you, sevika, and the girls— not even babette. there’s really no point, but you carry on walking nevertheless. the empty rooms are somewhat eerie, they’re usually so full of love and lust, but now restored to their pristine condition.

you pause in front of the only occupied room of the night, standing just a few yards away from the door. it’s almost silent, but a light giggle breaks the silence, and you almost keel over and sob right there. red-hot jealousy floods your veins, and your whole body trembles as you try your hardest not to let a peep sneak past your lips.

the girls don’t hear you, to your luck, too busy smooshing their brightly colored lips over sevika’s to see which color suits her the most, while she trembles and blushes with a vibrator between her legs. you practically run to the end of the hall to escape the noise, sitting against the wall and twiddling your thumbs in an attempt not to cry.

so that’s why you wanted to take a stroll down the hall so badly. you fucking perv, you think to yourself. lucky you didn’t get your ass caught, get a damn grip!

bolting upright, you decide to return to the bar. babette want’s a new recipe anyways, might as well do it right now, and if you mess up a few times it’ll be an excuse to get plastered on the clock. with your head in your hands, you begin your trek back to the lobby. what an evil, evil curse comparison is.

then the curtains fly open a few feet in front of you, and you almost audibly gasp at the distraction before you stifle it with the back of your hand. sevika gets playfully pushed out of the room, her tits on full display as she fumbles with the buttons on her shirt. you swear you black out for a second, or maybe even a full few minutes, who’s counting?

she giggles to herself and sighs as she gets a few buttons closed, her weakened legs wobbling under her weight as she carries herself down the rest of the long hallway and out of the door. you follow behind her slowly and silently, careful not to go to fast or make even the slightest noise.

she doesn’t see you as she slips out of the door, mind too hazy to think about anything other than the pure pleasure pumping through her veins. as soon as the coast is clear, you dash back behind the jar, pouring a few mixers in a glass and swirling them around in an attempt to make it seem like you were doing anything.

monica, ivy, and crystal trail out of the room after a few minutes of catching their breath. the fairy takes a seat in front of you, smiling and giggling as monica wipes some dark brown lipstick off of crystal’s neck.

“that woman is crazy,” she laughs. “what’re you making?”

“i dunno, just something new.”

“good! we need something sweeter on the menu.”

“you’re only saying that because you’re sweet and you like other sweet things.” you tease.

“of course, that’s why i like you so much. and besides, all of the drinks here are catered toward old, cranky men.”

“yeah, because that’s who all of your customers are.” you say, rolling your eyes.

“not all of them,” crystal cuts in. “and certainly not her.”

“did she tip you well?” you wonder.

“oh, fuck yeah, she always does.”

“i think she’s the richest woman in the whole city.”

“damn,” you smirk, not wanting your jealousy to peek out through your face.

“it’s okay, we’ll buy you something special.” monica winks. you roll your eyes, although completely embracing the way they spoil you.

as soon as the girls are out of the door, you finish locking up before heading out too. you’re so full of emotions, you have no idea which one to prioritize. should you cry into your pillow as soon as you fall asleep, jealous and angry that you’ll never get to have sevika in the way you want? or should you celebrate the fact that you almost saw her completely shirtless, and replay that image in your mind until sleep takes you?

you settle for both. crying into your pillow as you shove one of your hands down your pants. the release is satisfying, but only for a quick second before you’re wishing it were her, or anyone really. the water temperature in your apartment building is awfully cold, and you shiver as you scrub yourself down. your nipples pucker and harden as you run your hands over your body, imagining sevika touching you instead.

any attempt at sleeping is useless, your mind races with different possible scenarios. you might be upset that she’s not in love with you now, but what if she caught you staring at her while she was still dressing herself, or even worse, lingering outside of that room and listening to them get her off? at least she doesn’t hate you, right?

to your luck, the phone rings, a free excuse to be awake at this time of night. you rise and walk to the other side of the room, yanking the phone off of the wall as the cord curls and hangs down.

you yawn. “hello?”

“i can’t come in today,” ivy’s voice crackles through the speaker. “i’m coming down with something, and i think monica is too. maybe i got it from her or, or gave it to—?”

“it’s okay, sweetheart.” you assure her. “get some rest, do you need me to come over?”

“no, crystal said she’d come take care of me. but thank you.”

“okay, call me if you need anything. i love you.”

“i love you too,” she yawns, her voice sounds thick and congested. “and tell my regulars i love them, you could always cover for me if you want.”

“oh, fuck off.” you laugh. “i’m not gonna cover your shift as a prostitute, but get well soon.”

“okay, thank you, sorry if i woke you up.”

“it’s okay, i wasn’t sleeping anyways. i’ll check in soon, okay?”

“okay, bye, goodnight.” she sighs, and you slot the phone back against the wall.

and so the day passes agonizingly slow without any support. it’s a friday, so as soon as it hits 3pm, people flood in to get a good start to their weekend. there are a few girls who you’re friendly with, but you don’t get to know them very well since they’re always leaving at the beginning of your shift. babette comes in, though, and she sits and chats with you to keep you company.

she’s such a sweet soul, and she’s so wise it makes you want to take notes on everything she says. she tells you crazy stories, laughs, cries, and gives you advice before returning to her office for the night. so you’re left alone, eyeballing various flavors and liquors into you glass in attempt to make a cocktail that’s sweet enough for your little fairy.

after about an hour of this, you give up and rinse your glass out with water. none of their regular customers come in tonight, which is strange because usually fridays are their busiest nights. sevika comes in though, she must not have gotten the memo, but you’re not about to complain.

“your favorites aren’t in tonight,” you warn her just as she steps in. “one of ‘em caught the flu and spread it to the rest.”

“shit,” she huffs, “d’you think i could have a shot with the hot bartender?”

you scoff at this, cheeks heating up involuntarily. “i’m not a hot bartender, just a regular bartender. and i don’t offer any… services, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“agree to disagree.” she winks, planting herself at the stool right in front of you. “and no worries, i’ll take a whiskey.”

an eerie silence fills the room, the same one that always lingers in the brothel. you’re practically dying to say something, but you don’t know what to say other than something stupid and embarrassing.

sevika breaks the silence, though, saying “they talk about you a lot, you know.”

“do they?” you pretend to be shocked, but they’re your family, your sisters. of course you talk about each other, who else do you have to be proud of in a world like this?

“yeah. apparently you’re scary as hell but you can crack some mean jokes.”

“sometimes,” you admit with a shy smile. “although it’s mostly just when i’m half asleep at the very end of my shift that i let that side of me come out.”

“will i be lucky enough to see it?”

“maybe if you hang around long enough.”

“you could keep me waiting ‘til the end of time and i’d still be here.” she says, almost too nonchalantly.

you roll your eyes and slide her her whiskey, propping yourself up on your elbows as you study her up close for the first time ever. her mechanical arm is extremely detailed, each nut and bolt have a different important job that can’t function without the others. like you and your sisters.

“although, i have to admit,” she finally says. “i don’t see how you can be scary.”

“you haven’t seen me dragging old perverts out of here by the hem of their t-shirts, that’s why.”

“does it happen a lot?” she asks.

“hell no, you think i let those fuckers live to see another day? to come back in here?” you laugh. “absolutely not.”

“so there’s the humor.” she notices.

“yeah,” you smile. “except i wasn’t joking. and i bet you’d do the same if you’ve ever encountered them.”

“oh, trust me, i have.” she recalls with a grunt. “dumbfucks littering the streets yet topside is concerned about us.”

you hum in response. “it’s really not fair… can i ask you a question?”

“fire away.”

“why do you come in here?” you start. “i mean— no shame, i work here, but you couldn’t have found a better brothel?”

“i dunno, i don’t really care for the better ones. plus, i’ve known babette forever, literally. she’s been around for so long, i enjoy supporting her and her workers.”

“yeah, that checks out.” you sigh, babette really is a sweetheart, she might be the only good thing left about the undercity. “but isn’t it hard not to fall in love with them? how do you do it?”

she pauses for a moment, calculating her answer in her mind first. “i love them and everything they do for me, but i’m not really, into them like that.”

“oh, i’m sorry for assumi—”

“no, i do like girls,” she assures you. “just not them. i like my ladies with a little bit more meat on their bones.” she says with a wolfish grin, eyeing your body up and down.

“oh, you stop it!!” you grin back at her, a warm, tingly feeling flushing over your body.

“i didn’t call you a hot bartender for nothing, but i don’t date for looks, anyways. actually, i don’t really date in general, but maybe i just haven’t found the one.” she says, putting a suggestive emphasis on the one. she slides her empty glass toward you and rises from her stool. you’re sad to see her go so early, especially when she just started flirting with you, but oh well. you can’t force her to stay.

“i better head out, silco’s got me going up to topside tomorrow morning for god knows what. thanks for the chat.” she announces, sliding a few coins your way.

“good luck with that.” you smile. “and if you ever need a drink, you know where to find me.”

she chuckles at you as she shoves the door open, and you see something in her smile that you’ve never seen before. a small gap in between her two front teeth, the cutest little addition to her scary, stoical face. as soon as she’s out of the door, you sit on the ground behind the bar and hold your head in your hands again. jesus christ, was that the love of your life flirting with you? if only she knew how much you liked her.

the idea of calling the girls and telling them what just happened tempts you, but they don’t know that you’re head over heels for her. and what if they are? what if one, or even all three of them see her as more than a customer? you don’t wanna make things weird, so you stand up and head to babette’s office to bid her farewell for the night.

her office is small and dimly lit, but cozy. she smiles at you warmly as you step inside, quickly thanking you for your time earlier, and wishing you a good night. all of your dread seems to float away from your body as you walk home, the bitter frost of the night doesn’t sting your fingertips, but instead the butterflies in your stomach warm them.

if you thought your sleep last night wasn’t restful, tonight is so much worse. not that you mind, though, because the thing keeping you up is sevika’s deep voice repeating things like i didn’t call you a hot bartender for nothing. and you could keep me waiting til the end of time. you can’t help but giggle into your pillow like a lovesick fool, and when the time rolls around again, you can’t wait to go to work. which is something you never thought you’d feel.

you spend your trek to work enjoying the afternoon sun and the birds that chirp into the atmosphere. the girls are all feeling better today— which is a little strange considering it’s only been 24 hours of them being sick— but you don’t question the kinds of drugs they take. they love their job and you love them, so why complain?

a few stragglers hang around your bar as the afternoon turns to evening, and you get a few extra coins from a couple who tips very generously. but your eyes are fixated on the clock, counting down the hours until evening turns to late night, when you get to see sevika. you wish you could ask about her, get to know her more, but who would you ask? you don’t know if she has friends, although she works for silco and practically babysits jinx, but there’s no way in hell you’d ask them, in the rare case you ever come across them.

so you have to settle for her seeking you out behind the bar, which you pray time and time again will happen again. and it does, somewhat, because when she walks in the door tonight, she nods at you with a flick of her head and winks.

sevika winks at you.

the marble countertop of the bar catches you as you almost fall forward. god, i want her to do that again, you think. you sit up on your stool, squeezing your thighs together and widening your eyes in an attempt to be able to see straight. your sisters snatch her away again, but fuck, she looked at you.

for the first time since she started coming in, you don’t feel jealous. you feel hopeful. sevika knows you now, and she likes you, even if she’s not obsessed with you in the same way you are with her. the back of your hand muffles your smile, you can’t wait until her 60 minutes are up and you get to see her again, and you really hope she winks at you again. or does something even better, like blows you a kiss, or gets down on one knee with a ring, or recites you a personal love poem.

but the gods are on your side tonight, because the four of them saunter out of their suite about half an hour early and come to surround your bar. they all have this awkward expression on their faces, one that says they’re guilty and they need your help keeping a secret. you push it aside though, because they probably just think it’s weird that you’re seeing them in such a vulnerable state. you don’t think it’s weird though. you work at a brothel, for fucks sake, and you’ve seen some pretty crazy things, and it’s not like you’re a virgin, although you admittedly don’t have much experience.

“glad to see you all are feeling better,” you greet. “and sevika, welcome back.”

she smiles, her mech arm rattling slightly. the girls all exchange a look at each other, “yeah, thanks.” crystal says, reaching up on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around your neck in a hug. monica nudges ivy as she giggles, and sevika grins into her lap, human fingers fiddling with her metal fingers.

“oh fuck, don’t tell me you guys are in trouble again.”

“no, nothing like that.” crystal assures you.

“then what’s with the looks? you guys all look guilty as hell.”

“we’re just glad to see you again, that’s all.” monica smiles, one of her perfect, dark curls falling into her face gracefully.

you cringe, painfully aware that none of their stories are adding up. “so… can i get you anything?” you ask.

“well, uh—”

“not for us—”

“maybe lat—” they all say simultaneously. sevika is silent, giggling as quietly as she can into her lap, and completely avoiding eye contact with you. she looks up and raises her eyebrows at them, a silent signal for them to… do something.

“i think we’re gonna go now, but you two have fun!” crystal says, and they all run back down the hallway, giggling and tripping over one another in their heels as they do.

“what on earth is up with them?” you ask sevika.

“it’s nothing,” she says with a laugh. “or… maybe it’s something? i’m not too sure either.”

you slide her a glass of whiskey, just like you had last night. “this one’s on the house.”

“will you at least let me tip you?”

“well, i’m not saying no.” you grin, and she smiles at you again, and you hope that image of her is burned into your memory forever. she’s beautiful, it’s not hard to recognize that, but it’s a different feeling when you get to admire her up close. like a painting, you see images and replicas of them everywhere, but seeing them with your own eyes is always breathtaking. you can see every brushstroke, every small detail you hadn’t before, and it really comes to life.

“how long have you worked here?” she asks, derailing your train of thought.

“only a few months, but i’ve been bartending for longer.”

“you do an amazing job.” she compliments, flashing one of those grins at you again.

“oh please, you practically live at the last drop, and i poured that whiskey straight out of the bottle.”

she shrugs and rolls her eyes, “shut up and take the compliment.”

you have no choice but to giggle, and if sevika wants you to shut up, you shut up.

“i meant what i said last night— about you being a hot bartender, even though you didn’t seem to believe me.”

“why should i believe you? i wasn’t aware that you knew i existed until last night.” you retort.

“wish it were the same way for me, all i’ve been hearing about is you for months.”

“not my fault you like them so much.”

“i do, but i like you too.”

“i still don’t offer any services, if that’s what you’re getting at.” you say, letting her down easy, although you’d gladly offer her your services, you just wanna play with her for a while.

“of course not.” she smiles. “not unless you change your mind.”

you almost choke on your own spit. your heart pounds in your chest, and you’re 100% sure she can hear it right now. you giggle and hide your face in your hands, trying to keep your mouth shut for a few seconds before you leap over the bar and jump her bones.

“is that what they put you up to? to come sit here and flirt with me?”

“well, i’m not saying no, either. but i’m being genuine.”

you giggle again and punch her flesh shoulder over the counter, praying it’s not painfully aware how strongly you’re blushing right now. “no way you’re sitting here telling me about how badly you wanna get in my pants, when you just kicked out your own prostitutes.”

she shrugs, the scars on the side of her face slightly scrunching up as she smiles. “i can’t help it,” she laughs. “you charm me too much.”

“sevika!” you almost shout, completely baffled and astounded at her flirting. your mouth hangs open as you think of what else you can say, but nothing comes to mind.

“it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way, but i think you should at least know the effect you have on other people.”

you lean forward on the counter, holding your warm cheeks in your hands. “you should know the effect that you have on people.”

“i do, i’m very aware of it. especially from you.” she taunts leaning forward until your eyes are only inches away from hers. you peek up at her and almost faint, again, because her eyes are such a pretty, soft silver. and her lips are so pretty too, angular and smothered in a rich, deep brown lipstick. she notices you staring at her lips and smirks down at you. “can i kiss you?” she asks.

“i— wha—? yes. please.” you say, desperation and lust lingering in your voice. and her lips are on yours before you can even register it. suddenly all of the thoughts running through your mind, and there are a lot of them, cease to exist. because her lips are on yours, finally, and they’re so soft. she tastes spicy, almost, like tobacco and whiskey, but there’s a hint of something sweet, like honey or cinnamon.

she pulls away first, although you wish the two of you could be conjoined at the lips for the rest of time. “i wanna do that again.” you manage to choke out.

sevika chuckles at you, “not right now. not when you look like you’re about to faint, or die, even.”

“i’m sorry.” you whisper, holding your head in your hands.

“for what?” she asks, a twinge of concern in her voice.

“for making a fool of myself.” you laugh, hands covering your eyes as you refuse to look at her again, because maybe you will die.

“i can’t disagree with that,” she teases, and you can hear the smile in her voice. “but it’s no big deal.”

“sevika. get the fuck out of my bar before you kill me.” you threaten.

“alright.” she obliges, “but i’ll be seeing you tomorrow, whether you like it or not.”

“get! out!” you whisper shout, lifting your head up to meet her gaze for the last time tonight.

“leaving right now.” she laughs, turning on her heel to exit the building before you faint in her arms.

it takes you a few minutes to reorient yourself, but you take a few deep breaths and small sips of water before the girls come clambering out of their room again. you’re dreading the conversation that’s about to come, especially because you’re not sure if they’re up to something or not.

“sooooo…” ivy prompts. “how’d it go?”

“nothing happened. nothing important, at least.” you answer with a groan, starting to tidy up the lobby before you leave for the night.

“really?” monica frowns. “is that why you’re wearing some new lipstick?”

you sigh and roll your eyes, there’s no getting out of this tonight. “just tell us, please! we wanna know!” ivy begs.

“yeah, we won’t make fun of you too much.” crystal adds.

“okay, yeah, she flirted with me until i got dizzy, and then she kissed me to make it even worse.” you admit. “but i know you fuckers had something to do with it.”

“well, yeah. we had to give her the confidence to do so. she’s had a crush on your for like… forever.” monica grins.

“you guys are liars!” you laugh, exasperated. “stop fucking around with me, please.”

“we’re not fucking around with you, we’re being honest. and you should go home before you start freaking out.”

“i can’t go home yet, i need to finish closing.”

“we’ll do it, get the hell out of here!”

and how could you say no to that? so you leave, and you smile the whole way home as you replay that moment in your head. it was just like you imagined, minus all the parts where you embarrassed yourself. but it doesn’t even matter, the love of your life kissed you. on the lips. even better than her winking at you. better than you could’ve foreseen.

for once, you sleep soundly, your mind is at a perfect balance to do so. giddy enough to not be overcome with anxiety, but embarrassed enough to have some sort of weight in your gut, not letting the butterflies carry you away. you’re in such a deep sleep, that you’re not amused when the phone rings again. peeling the comforter off of you, you rise and yank the phone off of the wall, getting deja vu from only a few nights ago.

“hello?” you ask with a little bit of sass in your voice.

“we can’t come in again, we’re sick… again.” crystal says.

“all of you? but you were fine yesterday.”

“well, it got worse or something, i dunno, but you’re on your own today.”

you sigh, already dreading the fact that your shift is gonna drag on without them. oh well, at least sevika promised she’d be there. “okay…” you bark. “get well soon, call me if you need anything.”

“yeah, bye, good luck!” she almost squeals.

you trudge back to bed, willing yourself to get a few more hours of sleep, although it’s nearly noon and you should get up soon. you ignore the clock, shoving your face in your pillow in an attempt to block the sunlight out from your eyes. but now you can’t sleep, you’re thinking about how you and sevika are gonna be alone together again, but this time you’ll have to face yesterdays events.

when your alarm rings, you groan, and then take a second to scream into your pillow, praying your apartment neighbors don’t worry too much. you dress in your usual work uniform, black shirt, cargos, non-slip shoes. sevika must see something really special in me, you think, because there’s no way she’s choosing me over everyone else in this town.

for breakfast, you guzzle down half of a protein shake followed by two anxiety pills, and then you brush your teeth for an extra few minutes today, just in case. and maybe you accidentally sprayed more perfume than you usually do, but nobody needs to know that. you shove your shoes on, mentally preparing yourself for what could be one of the worst days of your life.

strangely, suspiciously, yet to your luck, none of ivy, crystal, or monica’s regulars come in to visit them. you start to suspect they did it on purpose, although it seems impossible. but if they did, those girls are crazy and you don’t deserve them. in fact, the brothel is empty nearly the whole day. as soon as the other girls clock out, nobody comes in at all. not until sevika shows up when she usually does, and she’s the first drink you pour all day.

“i missed you,” she sighs, heading straight for her usual barstool.

“i… missed you too. did they tell you they weren’t gonna be here tonight?” you ask.

“uhh— yeah, they did. but i wanted to spend my evening with you, anyways.”

“oh, well i’m flattered. but i didn’t know you kept in touch with them like that.”

“well…” she starts, looking to the side in an attempt to conjure up something to say. “never mind.”

you slide her a usual glass of whiskey, and she thanks you. “i never got to tip you last night.” she frowns.

“yeah, sorry, i kinda freaked out on you.”

“it’s okay, i’m sorry if i’m weirding you out or if we’re moving too fast or anything, but i did mean it. i meant what i said and i meant to kiss you, i wasn’t drunk or anything.”

“i meant it too, although i wouldn’t have overreacted if i could’ve helped it.” you giggle, suddenly completely aware of the fact that you’re flirting with her again. right now. and she kissed you. and now you have something together.

“i was thinking i could tip you tonight.” she smirks, eyeing you up and down again.

“oh, please. you know you get free drinks from now on.” you say, rolling your eyes at her kindness.

“i’m honored, although i was thinking about a different way to repay you.” she says, licking her lips as she slowly starts to walk toward you.

you’re frozen in place, your knees tremble as you realize what she means. her nose brushes yours as she finishes approaching you, and you can’t help but lurch forward to connect your lips to hers. she kisses you back with all of her might, and you almost slip and fall as she slides her tongue into your mouth. she tastes even better now. stronger and deeper and sweeter, and you start to crave it as soon as you taste it.

it isn’t long before you have her pinned against the countertop, shoving your tongue down her throat as she whimpers into your mouth. a loud crash echoes through the room, and you shiver as soon as you feel the whiskey splattering against your pants. “fuck,” you grunt. she whines when you pull away to assess the damage, but the glass isn’t shattered too much, and there’s only a small puddle under your feet.

“mmmh…” she whines when your mouths meet again. “let’s take this somewhere— mph!! somewhere else.”

and that’s how you find yourself stripping her naked with your teeth, the two of you sprawled out on a heart shaped bed. her shirts are always short and extremely revealing, but you still gasp and twitch when her abs are finally revealed to you. her v-line is thick and deep and it leads a perfect trail to her dripping hole, as if her thick, dark happy trail wasn’t enough.

“the rope.” she chokes out, and you don’t waste a single second, tying her hands together and then above her.

with her arms bound, you have more freedom to undress her without her squirming and getting in your way. as soon as her pants are off, you notice a dark, wet patch in the center of her boxers. “like what you see?” she teases. you gulp and nod, suddenly unable to form any words. “get the strap.” she demands. and who are you to say no to her?

you manage to buckle it up before everything really catches up to you. she’s smirking below you, watching as you pathetically ogle her thick shoulders, puffy, brown nipples, taut abs, and quivering, wet hole. “so? are you ready?” she prompts. as soon as she says the word, you can’t control yourself. you slide into her incredibly easily, slick dripping down her ass and making a puddle underneath her already.

your hips snap into hers, it’s messy and uncoordinated and you don’t really know what you’re doing, but sevika loves it. she’s on cloud nine, writhing and whimpering and squeezing her eyes shut as you pound into her. “mmm, sevika, is it good? am i doing good?” you ask.

“so good.” she assures you, panting. “so fucking good, gonna make me cum and we’ve just started.”

“fuck!” you gasp, and you’re squirming on top of her as your own orgasm hits you like a train. it came out of nowhere, but it’s the most intense one you’ve probably ever had. as if all of those times you’ve desperately rubbed your aching clit to the thought of her were for nothing.

“keep going.” she whines. “please, you’re doing s-so good for me, i’m so fucking close.”

something comes over you. something rough and dirty and animalistic. you yank the strap off, hardly bothering to unbuckle it beforehand. she whines again, wishing she still had your cock plugging her up, but she can’t complain when you sit your cunt on top of hers, your shared mixture of slick making an unholy wet smacking sound. never in a million years did you expect sevika’d be such a sacrificial angel, a dirty slut with needs.

her hard clit twitches when it meets yours, and she moans so loud you’re sure it can be heard outside of the building. at least nobody else is here, inside, or you two would get busted. “how long have you wanted to do this?” she asks.

“f-for such a long time.” you admit. “i’ve been needing it so badly, sevika.”

“how… how badly? hmm?”

“you don’t even know.” you whimper. “i would listen to you in here whenever i needed it the most. and sometimes i’d watch you leave half undressed and wish it was me who did that to you.” you slide herself against her as deeply as you can, and you’re practically humping her like a dog at this point. the pair of you only get more soaked until sevika’s clenching her legs around yours, locking you in place as she cums so hard she can’t see straight.

as soon as she comes down from her orgasm, she says something quick and muffled like “ididitonpurpose” but you don’t quite hear it.

“i did it on purpose to fuck with you.” she sighs, repeating herself more clearly now. “i’ve had my eye on you for such a long time, i thought you’d eventually pick up on it and make a move, but you never did. so i started fucking with you instead.”

“what?” you ask, completely appalled. “are you kidding?”

“no, most of the nights i’ve spent here has been me and the girls plotting on how to fuck with you the hardest. notice how none of their other customers are here? and how they mysteriously recovered from their illness for a day until catching it again?”

“wait, so is this a prank?” you ask, brain fuzzy from having sex with sevika but also from finally piecing things together.

“well, not this.” she says, gesturing with her head to your mutually nude bodies tangled together. “but they helped me plan the evening, yes.”

“you… fucker!” you shout, a light giggle following after. “am i really that blind?”

“i guess so.” she shrugs. “now, are you gonna untie me so i can show you what my arm can do, or are you gonna sit there with your jaw open like that.”

you smack her shoulder playfully, ducking down and settling yourself on her lap for a final makeout session before you have to give up your top duties for the night. not like you care, though, because her arm can do some pretty cool tricks, and she tips you well nearly every night from now on.

author’s note: tehe haiii i didn’t wanna add this at the beginning cause i always yap too much, so if you made it all this way THANK YOU FOR READING 🤭 i luv you guys so much and i love our little sevibear… apologies for teasing the hell out of this and taking forever to finish LMAOOO oops. anyways special shoutout to my 3 favorite mutuals (you know who you are) for giving me motivation to finish this, i love you guys the mostest mwah mwah mwah y’all are wayyyyy too nice to me and i appreciate you more than you know <333 comments and reblogs are very appreciated!!!! lmk what you thought!!!!!! thanksssss 🫶

[betweenthings2]

okay right. it is Fic Ask time 🙂‍↕🙂‍↕🙂‍↕ YAHOO greatest fears, wringing hands, loudest silence here i come. also sorry this is a little late !! if ur birthday was before i sent this then i hope u enjoyed and if its after then i also hope u enjoy !!! ☺️☺️

"I-" Matty chokes on a sob, "I'm gonna do it, George. I think I'm gonna do it."

never write another word again or i fear you may kill me. GOOD GOD. :( <- me atm

"I've heard it doesn't hurt--do you think that's true?" Matty asks. In the background, George can hear the sound of packaging being opened and George knows.

I FEEL SICK. no it is Not true matthew stop pls im gonna start sobbing. george knows :(((

"Sorry," Matty mumbles. "Sorry for botherin' you."

okay well 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 i actually forgot how sad this is. i blocked it out the same way womens bodies supposedly do after pregnancy. i am going to SCREAM AND CRY

Matty is quiet for a moment, then he says, "Do you think it'll stain the grout? Will my mum be upset I ruined the tile, do you think?"

ohhhh the way hes more worried about how she'll react instead of worrying about himself:(( my chest hurts pls

"There's so much, G," Matty says, something like awe in his voice. "Do you think my mum will be upset?"

google how do i be normal. i genuinely might just sob. :(( i just can't get over how u managed to get that. like. the sort of innocence to it ??? like hes so out of it he cant understand it properly Ohhhhhh :(((

OH THE LETTER NO NO NO NO NO

You deserve something.

i am going to explode thank you

I don't think I'm meant to make it, G. It's ok, though. It's been good. You made it good, but I'm tired and I'm sad and everything hurts.

there are no words in the english language i could possibly use to describe how this hurt me

I know this is happening to you, not me, not really, not anymore.

YOUR DEATH IT WONT HAPPEN TO YOU IT HAPPENS TO YOUR FAMILY AND YOUR FRIENDS 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 i just absolutely cannot comprehend how you put so much sadness into this. im going to sob

And then George is ugly crying in the waiting room. It's big, heaving sobs and it's all he can do to get himself outside so he doesn't bother anyone. Dimly, he thinks that this is the worst day of his life, then immediately tells himself off for feeling sorry for himself when he doesn't even know if Matty is still alive and if he is, then he's somewhere alone and hurting and instead of being there for him, George is feeling sorry for himself.

i had to put my phone down after reading this paragraph and go and scream silently at my cat over it. this pain transcends species. :((((((((( the way uve gotten the idea that it just makes everyone feel shit and then they feel bad for feeling shit and just OHHHHH. ☹️☹️☹️

Regardless of the semantics, Matty looks peaceful. His arms are wrapped in gauze from wrist to elbow, there's an IV in the back of his left hand, and he connected to several other machines, but he looks peaceful, like he's getting long neglected rest.

i need this tattooed like you know how some people get ones that go around their arms all the way like a bracelet im gonna do that but ill do it somewhere that can fit this entire paragraph and im gonna show it to every single person i meet. what the fuck. peaceful ohhhhh what if i sob. ive also been seeing a lot of stuff about divine machinery or whatever it is and this made me think of that? just the image of him in a bed with wires all going to him . im going to explode

"I should say that to you," George counters. "You were going to make me listen to you die."

☹️ I CANNOT DEAL WITH THIS

"Why couldn't you just let me die?" Matty repeats. "'s not like I'm worth it. I'm not worth it, G. You'll be better without me. You'll all be better without me."

tears in my stupid gay real person fiction painted eyes. u cannot just WRITE THAT oh my GOD. ☹️☹️☹️ they will most definitely not be better without u matty pls :(

"You say that," Matty says, his voice thick, "but you don't mean it. You don't want me around when I can't get out of bed, or when I can't seem to stop talking, or when I loose things and double book myself and forget we had plans and give up on things 'cause they're not interesting anymore, or when I try to control everything, or when I fuck something else up, 'cause I will, or-"

my heart hurts. i just cannot deal with this. im going to be in a hospital bed in a minute Oh this is so :((((((

It takes a while, but eventually, George scrubs the blood from the tile, revealing the stains on the tile and grout. Kneeling there, slightly sweaty from the frenzied scrubbing and on the verge of tears, George remembers Matty's worries about the grout. Suddenly it's so ridiculous that George has to laugh and a bird's eye view of himself pops into his head and he has to laugh harder. When he dissolves into tears he'd tried so hard to fight, he starts scrubbing the floor again, but the stains are stuck, so he gives up. It's only when George is done in the bathroom and he goes to leave that he realizes that there are more boot prints through Matty's room and across the plush cream colored carpeting Denise had put in as soon as Louis wasn't a toddler anymore. George doesn't have it in him to clean that, too.

hey so did you know i actually cannot deal with this. i just cannot. the grrroooouuuuuttttttt :((((((

The third thing is that Matty is retrained.

:(

"Matty's not violent."

MATTYS NOT VIOLENT 😭😭😭 crying into my latte pls omfg. the way he sees him at his best even when its probably wrong IM GONNA CRY

"Still," Matty protests. "I didn't want you to see the mess I made."

my cat got in the way of me reading this and now she has my chin on her back and is 'reading' along with me. maybe i shouldve chosen something happier. character development. anyway i am Losing my fucking mind oh good god

Matty raises his eyebrows, saying, "Who knew that's what it took for you to start yelling?"

matty brings out the best and worst in him and its making me sick. OJ MYCGOD

I was gonna take pills, but it was right there and I've heard it doesn't hurt if you use something sharp enough, so I called you, and I wanted you to be the last person I talked to."

THIS IS NOT OKAY I AM NOT OKAY NOTHING IS OKAY NOTHING WILL EVER BE OKAY EVER AGAIN. :((((((( i cant even explain how this affects me

"I spent an hour and a half last night trying to bleach your blood from your bathroom tile," George continues, "and the only thing I see when I close my eyes is what it looked like when I got there and bloody fucking tracks across your mum's nice carpet and you, in a fucking casket, and all I can think is that everyone failed you and that I failed you, and I love you, Matty, and I know everything's kinda a mess in your head and I know it's not about me, but please, for just a minute, think about the people who love you."

i cant put into words what im feeling while reading this but just know this is what i look like

I CANNOT FUCKING DEAL

"I'm gonna fight for you," George says, a little softer. "Why can't you fight for you, too?"

"I don't have the energy to fight," Matty answers quietly.

"Will you let me?"

OH WHAT THE FUCK CAN WE STOP THIS. IM GOING TO SCREAM. u put So much. sad. into ur writing. and its so impressive. i am going to explode. will u let me THERES TEARS. STOP (do not)

George wants to yell at them, tell them that sedating Matty doesn't solve anything, that he's small enough that he's not a threat to anyone, that sedation is half of Matty's problem. George doesn't say anything, just watches.

SMALL ENOUGH TGAT HES NOR A THREAT RO ANYOEN STOP THIS MADNESS IMMEDIATELY. OH MY GOD 😭😭😭😭😭 i actually need to see a doctor im going insane

Sometimes, they all go together and it breaks George's heart to watch Matty trying so hard to be himself for his brother. At some point, Matty's stitches get removed, but the cuts are still red and angry and tender and Matty opts for long sleeves so no one sees them, himself included.

. tears in my eyes .

this is not okay

im going to die

"himself included" :((((( im unwell

"Did you, did they, at the hospital did you, uh-" Matty cuts himself off.

"Did they give me your note?" George fills in.

im feeling very normal about this. the most normal. oh my god. i feel like this emoji ☹️ i CANNOT DEAL WITH THIS

"It broke my heart," George admits.

READING THIS IS BREAKING MINE ☹️ sob sob sob sob sob im going to explode

"You think my life is worth saving," Matty continues, slowly.

i genuinely might start sobbing. death and destruction and pain and OH MY GOOOODDDDDDDD 😭😭😭

George would want to wake up like this forever if Matty didn't look so vacant.

there used to be a heart in my chest but its since shrivelled up and DIED. this is for real going to kill me. pls im SAD ☹️ i love this so much

"Mostly that I really, really love you," Matty mumbles, sheepish. "And about what we talked about last night."

☹️ he loves george so much it makes me SICK. and u know what else makes me sick. how sad. this fic. is making me. but in a good way. im so obsessed im going to CRY

Matty gives a minute shake of his head and says, "I don't wanna do this anymore. I don't wanna wake up and fucking brush my teeth and, and try so hard to do everything right and be enough and still fucking fail. I'm tired, George and the meds make it worse and everyone looks at me like I'm about to lose it and my mum keeps fucking apologizing and I've got these fucking scars that I'm gonna have forever and everyone will know how fucked up I am."

screaming crying throwing up im going to my library and telling them about you and making them tell everyone that comes in about you. this is terrible for my heart but so wonderful for every other part of me. my heart hurts. i love this so much

Matty shakes his head again. "You just look sad."

:((((((((( he just looks sad :(((((((((

"It's fucking hideous. And I did it to myself," Matty argues. "I cut myself. And then I tore the fucking stitches out. Who does something like that?"

im printing this and binding it or like sticking it to my walls and making it into a poster. oh my FUCKING GOD this is so sad and ohsjkwkdmdxkewkdkoeod i need to be SEDATED

Matty groans, ever the dramatic, but agrees, "Fine."

:'))) he still has parts of himself left :'))) he might be terrible mentally but he is Still Matty !!!

Years from now, when they're sitting in a house George has cleaned top to bottom, in a kitchen where the strongest thing is a single pack of ibuprofen and even the cooking wine has been thrown out in the wake of Matty's time in rehab, George will tell Matty of this victory. Matty will cry and apologize and cry some more, and George will hold him and try not to think about the scars, silvery and faded, on Matty's forearms.

I ACTUALLY CANNOT COPE WITH THIS. !??!??!?!??!?!??! how do you just Casually say the most...beautiful sentences...and act like its the same as any other. im in AWE of you. !!!!!!! so sad !!! so happy !!!!!! so !!!!!!!!!!!!!!

In one of the fights that will become more frequent in the coming months, Denise will yell at Matty about how much it cost to have the carpeting and bathroom tile replaced.

DENISE...BE NICE...STOP. im gonna die. oh my god pls no sTOP IT

"Am I," he pauses, "am I gonna be ok? I think I wanna be ok."

fighting demons to Not Cry atm. oh my god. i am. just. oh my god. :( he wants to be okay :(

Matty keeps wearing long sleeves and George can't help but be afraid that Matty break if he's not gentle enough.

never speak again or you Will kill me. oh my god. the way he loves him makes me die inside but in a happy way. do u get the vibe. i hope u get the vibe. i love this in a way that only Vibes can convey

This isn't Matty from before, but it isn't the Matty that wrote the suicide note George can't bring himself to throw out.

hi what the fuck. this is gorgeous and i need it engraved in marble under like. a carving of you or something. oh my FUCKING GOD i swear im putting this somewhere idk where but its going SOMEWHERE

They're sharing a joint and hiding out in Matty's bedroom when he speaks up.

i know its sad and all but this is making me so soft. like. its so intimate i just love it so much :((( sharing a joint even when theyre meant to go on some huge tour ohhhhhh my HEART HURTS. also the image of teeny tiny mini matty being so sad ??????? stop ??????? pls i didnt realise he was meant to be that young im :(((((

this is the most wonderful thing ive ever read and it genuinely should be shown to everybody who even knows what suicide is or something. just everybody. i love it so much and u HAVE to know how amazing it is like omg. i also just realised i didnt give it kudos the first time ?? past me was a little freak. i did like it though i remember that, i think i was just shy, anyway, its amazing and u have to know that. ok. enjoy the rest of ur birthday month and think lots about sad matty i love u u are the best

Fic thoughts!! Thank you so much! My actual birthday was unexciting--I just went to class--but I'm seeing Charli xcx soon and it's still birthday season, so I think that counts for something =)

Anyway, fic time!

Poor fictional!Matty--he's so desperate and scared--and poor fictional!George, hearing him like that =(

George knows!!! !!!! He knows but he doesn't want to know but he can't make himself not know!! They are so very, very tragic.

Fictional!Matty thinks he's a bother!!! He just wants a little bit of comfort in the end from fictional!George, but he still just thinks he's a bother.

He's still so sure he's a bother and the problem =(( Fictional!Matty is just trying to stop being the problem and here he is, certain he's causing another one.

(If I knew how to be normal I would tell you, unfortunately, this fic came from my little head, so normal is kind of out of the question.) However. Fictional!Matty is mostly impressed that he managed to do it and impressed that all of the blood was inside him. He's lost too much blood to be logical about anything, but he's impressed with himself.

The letter!! Fun fact, the letter was almost not a part of this fic because I didn't know how to write it.

Fictional!George does deserve something! He deserves everything, fictional!Matty just doesn't know how to give it.

Hurt was the goal, if I'm being honest. Sorry. I'm glad it worked, but sorry.

I will admit, "I Always Wanna Die (Sometimes)" was very much the foundation of the letter. Fictional!Matty knows he's not the one it's happening to, but he just doesn't know what else to do.

Poor, poor fictional!George =( =( He's so in love and he thinks he might have just lost the person he loves and it really is the worst day of his life, but what about fictional!Matty? What's happening to him? This is probably the worst day of his life, too. (I hope you and your cat have recovered. My goal was never to upset anyone's pets.)

Poor, poor fictional!George that this is how fictional!Matty looks peaceful. And the divine machine is such a good concept!! I'll be thinking about that for the foreseeable future =) and oh my god, tattoo my writing on you? That's too much of a compliment. I don't know what to do.

I think this fic could boil down to poor fictional!George. He was going to have to listen to fictional!Matty die!! They're so sad.

It could also boil down to poor fictional!Matty, too. He's so convinced everyone would be better without him and fictional!George doesn't know what to do about it =(

Fictional!Matty hates himself so much and he absolutely cannot reconcile the fact that fictional!George loves him so much. He can't help but think fictional!George is blind.

The grout!!! There's a piece of writing advice floating around out there that essentially amounts to the bigger and more dramatic the thing you're writing about, the smaller the thing you focus on should be as a demonstration of how big that thing is. Suicide and self-loathing are massive things to tackle, the grout is a near microscopic demonstration.

Love that my typo on restrained is committed to memory now. Anyway, fictional!Matty is restrained! He's a danger to himself!!!

The only person fictional!Matty has any kind of violence for is himself!!

I hope your cat is doing ok =/ Tragedy can be build character, maybe. I am of the opinion that tragedy is good for us, actually.

Fictional!M+G are the best and the worst of each other, I would argue. They have, in this fic, loved each other nearly as long as they've been real people. Of course they bring out the best and worst in each other. That's what they are.

Fictional!Matty is so, so certain he's been horribly selfish, but fictional!George is so ridiculously grateful he was able to save his life. Fictional!Matty is also terminally curious, so of course he'd want to know if it really hurt. (He hoped it wouldn't--he doesn't handle pain well--but it did.)

I would tell you what I looked like writing this, but I cannot remember what I was thinking when I wrote this, but again, poor, poor fictional!George. He's angry, but he's pretty sure he doesn't have the right to be, but god, he is.

I will never stop writing angst. Of all the things I'm actively working on (so many, so, so many), there are about three that aren't angsty, two of which are smut. So. There will be so much more angst.

Fictional!Matty is little tiny! The orderly could just put fictional!Matty over his shoulder and carry him out but he doesn't!! Ahhhh

Fictional!Matty still hates himself, hates what he's done to himself. Fictional!George wouldn't tell him, but he hates seeing the scars, too, so he's not going to complain about the long sleeves, just grieve everything that's happened.

The letter! Originally, they were just going to have a conversation about it here, but then I actually wrote it, so they're just sad here.

Fictional!George probably needs therapy after this--he's so sad, endlessly sad, but at least fictional!Matty is alive.

Fictional!Matty is there, but he's not really there, but at least he's sort of there =(

Fictional!Matty loves fictional!George so much!! He just might hate himself more.

Tell everyone in the library about my sad fics?!?! I am very touched, but that might be too much--I'm just some guy. But, hopefully my next fic hurts less.

They're just sad!!!!

Poor fictional!Matty is angry now, too. He hates what he's done to himself and literally all he can do is live with it. =(

He's still himself! That's what makes it worse for fictional!George--it would be easier if fictional!Matty was just. absent, but he's not and it's heartbreaking.

They will ever, ever escape this. They will live under the shadow of this one thing forever because fictional!Matty will literally bear the scars forever.

Fictional!Denise doesn't know what to do with this either!! Fictional!Matty just fights with her in a way that he doesn't with fictional!George. In his defense, living with your parents in your early twenties is a little bit rough sometimes.

Fictional!Matty wants to try, he just doesn't know how!!

I do get the vibe!! It's a good vibe!!

I do not know what the fuck, I'm sorry. I do know that fictional!George will never throw the letter away. Fictional!Matty will find it at some point, ten or fifteen years down the line, and he'll read it and cry, and then fictional!George will find him and then they'll cry together.

They're so young!! They're too young for this, too young to figure out how to cope with this, but they have to. They have to and maybe that's biggest tragedy of it all!

Here's a fun fact that's maybe not very fun--this fic was originally going to titled "Call Your Mom," because that's the song that inspired it, but it didn't seem quite right when I finished it.

Thank you so much for reading and your thoughts and all the compliments!! I'm so touched and I promise I'm actively working on the fictional!George in a skirt fic.

[mercy-burning]

Page Turner

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Y/N becomes a little impatient while Spencer is reading... Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Thigh riding, thigh fucking, cum play Word Count : 2.5k

MASTERLSIT

NOTE: this is just FILTH FILTH FILLLTHHHHH, and it was supposed to be a blurb but i got kinda carried away so it’s a little longer than that... so enjoy your porn with no plot 😊😂 And shoutout to @broken-stardust for beta-ing this for me!! we originally talked about the idea for this fic months ago, so i’m glad you finally got to see it ❤

———

She was in the mood for a little trouble.

Well, it was more like she was in the mood for a good fuck, but at the moment, with Spencer's strong desire to finish this incredibly long book series he'd just discovered, the mood for trouble came as more of a... fun little footnote that would most certainly add to the experience she was looking for.

So she strode up to Spencer, who was sitting comfortably on the couch with his book open and his glasses perched cutely on the tip of his nose, and straddled herself on his right leg wearing nothing but a pair of thin cotton underwear and a t-shirt.

"Hey," she said, low and seductive as she planted a wet kiss into his neck. Her hands clutched his shirt, willing herself to be closer and with every intention of him putting the book down and paying her some attention.

Either he truly wasn’t in the mood, or he was teasing her.

"Hey," is all he responded with, clipped and distant. His eyes scanned the pages, albeit slower than usual due to the woman clinging herself to him and begging for attention.

"You've been reading all weekend," Y/N half-whined, pressing herself into him and attaching her lips to his neck again. "Can't you at least take a little break?"

"It won't take me long to finish this book, and then we can, okay?"

She knew it was fair. It was more than fair, actually, but that didn't help the fact that she was still incredibly horny, and if she took care of it herself, it wouldn't have been enough. Maybe that was selfish, but she didn't care.

So she whined for real this time, more like a disappointed child, as she gripped his shirt and pulled herself closer to him. "Spencer..."

She expected him to warn her, to tell her to wait or something—anything—but instead he opted for the exact opposite.

He did nothing.

Y/N promptly decided that wasn't the correct response and rolled her hips, grinding down on his leg for friction. Her tongue drew a messy line up the side of his neck as she circled her hips and sought out the stimulation she so desperately wanted. And at the way his body tensed under her, obviously wanting the same things but holding out in favor of restraint, she knew her plan was close to working.

So she let out a long, content sigh and tangled her fingers in his hair, tugging it gently and continued to ride his thigh, moving quicker and harder with each second as she felt her body start to unravel. Her lips attached to his neck and mumbled all sorts of little noises that should have gotten him to fucking do something...

And still, even as she felt herself cling to him and her body recover from a short (and quite frankly unsatisfying) orgasm, Spencer remained in his position, still flipping pages in that godforsaken book.

"Spencer," Y/N grunted. She was exasperated, and strongly hoping that she wasn't giving him any satisfaction in her need for attention.

However, instead he seemed a little defensive. "Wh—You're distracting me! I can't finish the book as quickly if you're distracting me..."

"Fine," she sighed, peeling herself away from him and trying one last thing to get him to submit.

Y/N slid the underwear off her legs and tossed it gently at his face, watching it fall into his lap in front of the book.

Still nothing. His eyes roamed the pages, and he was clearly highly invested in whatever story was written on them. And god damn it if he still wasn't the cutest thing she'd ever seen.

So she slunk back to the bedroom and plopped herself down on the bed with only a t-shirt, laying down and crossing one leg over the other. And when she tossed her head to the side with a sigh, she noticed the other books in Spencer's current interest scattered along his side of the bed.

Well, I'm not particularly in the mood anymore, and there's really nothing else to do...

"Why the fuck not," Y/N sighed, reaching out and fishing for the book that had the number 1 printed on the spine.

***

With the final paragraphs of the story swimming through his brain, the book settled closed and neatly on the cushion beside him, Spencer looked down at his lap and noticed the bundle of cotton sitting there, next to a small damp spot on his pants where his girlfriend had been just under a half hour earlier.

He felt bad, ignoring her like that. It was hard resisting her when she was literally there, in his lap and getting herself off on his leg. And while he could practically hear Morgan in the back of his mind, telling him with disappointment in his voice, "It doesn't matter how important you think something is, that is always gonna be the most important thing,"... Spencer really couldn't help it. The book was so good he couldn't put it down. Not even for sex.

And now that he'd finished, he was focusing on what his brain decided it couldn't handle before, remembering her wet, hot breath on his neck and her fingers tangled in his hair as she rode his thigh, begging him for attention.

He was feeling guilty.

And he was going to spend the whole rest of the weekend making it up to her. He swore it, no matter who called, no matter what came up, he wasn't going to pay any attention to it unless it was his girlfriend's limbs tangled with his.

His hand reached for the book so he could return it with the others, but he thought better of it, wondering if Y/N would say anything. Instead, he figured walking in empty-handed and announcing how he was ready to give her his undivided attention for the rest of eternity if she'd let him would be a better option.

Spencer was feeling good about his decision, but when he opened the bedroom door and saw her, he felt even worse about ignoring her.

Because there she was, one foot pressed flat into the mattress and the other crossed over her knee, exposing her bare cunt to the world as she held a book in her hands. She looked statuesque and absolutely delectable, and he'd turned her down for a book he could have easily finished tomorrow morning.

Oh, he was definitely going to make it up to her...

"H—Hey, babe," he got out, trying to get her attention like she hadn't already heard the squeaky door open.

"Hey," she responded, similar in tone to how he'd answered the same greeting earlier, and it made his stomach turn.

Was she doing it on purpose?

Spencer took cautious steps towards her, stepping around the bed and clearing off the books scrambled on his side so he could take their place. "What are you reading?"

Rather than speaking, she tilted the book so he could see the cover and then returned to her position, eyes scanning the pages, and he couldn't tell if she was doing it to mess with him or if she was truly invested.

"Okay... Well, um... I'm finished now, i—if you wanted to, um..."

When Y/N finally took her eyes off the pages, she looked at him up and down as he sat on the bed... She took in his apologetic eyes, the slight pout on his lips that she could never resist...

And then she resisted him. Sort of.

"Eh, sure. Just let me finish this chapter first."

She sounded utterly bored.

And once again, Spencer wasn't sure if it was genuine or if she was just doing it to get back at him. But either way, it made him feel bad about before. He wanted to respect her wishes, grant her the time to finish reading just as she'd granted it to him... But he also wanted to make sure she knew just how sorry he was.

"Oh... Okay." He laid down next to her and watched her face as she read, her eyes occasionally blinking, mimicking the butterflies in his stomach at the sight before him. Even if she was mad at him, she was still absolutely stunning, and he was never going to take it for granted.

His fingers reached out to brush some of the hair from her eyes so he could see her better, and despite herself, she smiled a little, gently leaning into his touch.

That's my way in...

"I'm really sorry, Y/N... For ignoring you. I was just really caught up in the book and I—"

"Babe, it's fine," she dismissed, like it wasn't ever a big deal in the first place. "Trust me, I totally get it now. This is so good..."

As soon as she finished speaking, her eyes were roaming the words again, her bottom lip tucking gently between her teeth as she turned a page.

Oh... so she wasn't just messing with me, then...

Spencer's eyebrows raised and he sighed a little, truly unsure where to go from here. "Oh... Well... I'm glad you like it?"

She hummed, barely acknowledging him, and it amused him to his very core. So much so that he couldn't help but lean forward to kiss her cheek out of habit. And when she scrunched her nose, barely brushing off his touch, he started feeling a bit more devious. So he kissed her again, this time on the jaw, and then again and again trailing down her neck. And he stayed there, sucking small marks into her skin while she remained in her position.

He remembered what he saw when he opened the door, and the thoughts swirling around in his head begged him to utilize it.

He really wanted to be polite and let her finish reading... But also...

Spencer shifted, leaving the bed only to return on the other end, with no pants as he crawled up in between her legs on his knees. Seeing as she wasn't going to move her legs at all, he settled for running his hands gently over them, tracing every dip and curve they took, all the way down to the back of her thigh, which was out and exposed as it was aiding in resting her ankle over her other knee.

When he got close to her exposed pussy, she shivered a little. "You're distracting me..."

The obvious teasing that laced her words sent a smile to his lips. He couldn't see her face for a moment, but then she angled the book down and peered over it, giving him eyes that challenged, Do it and see what happens...

So, without breaking eye contact, Spencer gently ran his finger along the opening of her wet cunt and watched as she flung the book back up to her face, hiding it from view. He played with her clit for a while, circling it gently with his thumb while his middle finger slowly slipped in and out of her.

Y/N whined. "That's not fair... At least when I was interrupting you, I didn't try to give you a handjob..."

Spencer hummed in agreement, removing his fingers from her and bringing them to his lips. "Hmm, I suppose you're right..."

So how am I going to make it even...

He took his dick out of his underwear then, holding it in his hand and resisting the urge to slip it inside of her. Instead, he settled for the small gap between her thighs, a whine escaping him once he realized it was nowhere near the amount of stimulation he'd get from anything else.

His hips snapped forward urgently as he chased some form of release, frustrated at how it felt good, but not nearly good enough.

"Not so fun, is it?" Y/N sang, flipping a page amusedly once he'd let out another exasperated whine.

"What's to stop me from just fucking you?" he hissed, gripping her legs and trying his hardest to be patient.

"You won't... Because you won't learn your lesson otherwise."

Now she was messing with him. She was punishing him for ignoring her, and he breathed a laugh, knowing he should have seen it coming. But he wasn't going to argue with her, not when he was well and truly aware that he deserved this.

Still, it didn't make it any easier.

Spencer's whimpering increased tenfold, though, once she took a little pity on him and squeezed her legs tighter, giving him more friction and bringing him closer to the edge.

"O—oh my g—od..."

It happened so fast. One second he was relieved at this new wave of pleasure and the next he was pulled underneath it, his lower half tensing, pulsing, and burning hot. God, she was warm... And wet, and tight, but in a completely different way than normal, and it all was too much.

Her thighs and lower stomach were covered in cum, and that thought alone was enough to keep him going. He was overstimulated and probably should have refrained, but the silky, warm skin of her thighs just felt so good gliding over his dick, he just couldn't.

By now, Y/N had completely tossed the book aside, watching in awe as Spencer seemed unaware of her actions. His eyes were shut tightly, so focused on coming again, and the head of his cock peeked out through the gap in her thighs with every thrust forward, glistening and nearly red...

And then he was coming again, and she watched as the milky substance spilled out over her skin. A strand of it dripped slowly down the front of her left thigh, and the sight made her whine.

Spencer opened his eyes then, an overwhelming kernel of love and adoration blooming through his chest as he watched her watch him.

And then everything slowed.

He shoved the book off the bed and laid down beside her, looking down to admire his work.

"Fuck," is all he said, in one huff.

He was clearly pleased with himself, a fact which made Y/N beam. "Oh, you like that, huh?"

With a vigorous nod, he reached a hand out to spread some of the mess around, his fingers gliding slowly and softly over the planes and curves of her still-crossed legs.

"We have to do that again... Though, I could do without the 'you punishing me' part..."

Y/N let out a laugh, grabbing his wrist and bringing his fingers to her mouth. She darted her tongue out to taste, slowly dragging the tip along the underside of his middle finger before taking it fully in her mouth.

"Don't give me a reason to punish you, then," she quipped back after letting his finger go with a soft pop and tilting her head to look at him.

That look in her eyes, the one that always gave him butterflies, elicited another heavy nod.

"Deal."

———

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[charleswaterloo]

AGREED DO THE ULTIMATE FIC REC

Thank you so much for asking!! Okay, here we go!

DC fics that I got a few paragraphs into and already KNEW were going to be AMAZING:

1. The Jason Project by loosingletters

Warnings: Major Character Death

Jason had just wanted to see his autopsy report, he had only wanted to know what information Bruce had about his death. And when Bruce hadn't given it to him, he had stolen it. He hadn’t meant to stumble upon the bucket list of a dead child and the footage of a grieving father crossing one item after another off the list.

My thoughts: I don't often cry (which isn't healthy lmao) but this fic made me cry (happy tears!). It is absolutely wonderful and while angsty it has such a beautiful ending. I can't recommend it enough!

2. Little bird by Ididloveyou_once

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Tim knew he was fucked if only for the way that his brain was chanting Jason, like a litany. So he definitely didn’t need to hear the cold, mechanical chuckle or the chillingly delighted 'lucky me' to know that this was not good.

He took a second to look down at his coffee mournfully.

Then, he threw it at Hood’s helmet and bolted down the Tower corridor.

Or: Tim is supposed to be at Gotham Academy for a parent-teacher conference. Hood has other plans (Titans Tower AU).

My thoughts: One of the best Titans Tower AU fics I have ever had the pleasure of reading. The ending is to die for and so fluffy - it never fails to warm my heart <3

3. Straight to Voicemail by cabbagetop

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

“Red Hood. I need you to incapacitate Timothy Drake-Wayne.” “Aw, man,” Jason sighs, shouldering through the old wooden doors and out into the street with his books under his arm. “You and half the northern hemisphere. What’d he do this time?”

Jason's phone is blowing up about one Timothy Drake-Wayne (who is Jason's responsibility since when, exactly?). Jason comfort-eats. Jason suffers long. Jason reluctantly tries to keep this Raphus cucullatus of a human being alive, and maybe finds himself sidling back into the family while he's at it.

My thoughts: I was crying with laughter by the third sentence. If you want free serotonin, you will find it here folks, I guarantee it. Brilliantly written and hilarious and such a fantastic interpretation of Jason's character. Please read this lmao <3

4. miss me? by envysparkler

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Jason’s plan to observe his family’s reactions to his resurrection…does not go as intended.

My thoughts: I think I've recommended this one at least once before, but I will do so again because it is one of the best stories I have ever had the honour of reading on AO3. It has a happy ending, but was another fic which actually made me tear up. It is just beautiful and I'm sure some of you have read it before. Read it again even if you have - it's that good.

5. No Pain, All Gain by @sohotthateveryonedied

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Bruce checks Tim’s IV. “Are you in any pain? Do you need more morphine?”

Tim’s pupils are so wide that only the faintest ring of blue can be seen. He watches Bruce the way a five-year-old watches cartoons. “I’m all good, B-dog. All Gucci, like we cool teens say." His words are slurred almost beyond recognition, but Tim doesn’t seem to notice or care. "I could fight Superman right now.”

My thoughts: I know of only about 3 or 4 fics featuring Tim absolutely high out of his mind on some drug or another and this has got to be one of the absolute best of them. Whenever I feel the Depression(TM) crawling in and I need to laugh INSTANTLY I read this. It has not failed me yet. I can't recommend it enough it's so funny and a great read <3 The line below from the fic makes me scream laugh EVERY TIME:

“He’s not in his right mind.” “So? Neither are you half the time but you’re still in charge of everything.”

6. The Ouija Boy by SunnyBlue

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Timothy Drake was a stillborn baby. He was born dead, stayed that way for a solid five minutes, and was then resuscitated in the delivery room. He was a child who grew up alone, but for his imaginary friends. He had so many imaginary friends, in fact, that his parents sent him to get evaluated several times over the course of his childhood, which was spent with Tim as the only heartbeat in that house.

But that didn’t mean he was alone.

---

Tim sees dead people. When a Batboys murder investigation is going nowhere, he realizes his only chance at solving the case is to speak to the ghost of one of the victims. He has to reveal his secret to his brothers -- or risk the killer getting away.

My thoughts: STAND BACK FOR POSSIBLY ONE OF MY TOP TEN FAVOURITE FICS OF ALL TIME. I'm pretty sure I've recommended this one before but I will do so again. The story is impeccable, the mystery is ELITE and everything about it is literally perfect. I re-read this at least once a month so I can bask in its greatness and become a better person for having read it.

7. there but for the grace of god by TheResurrectionist

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

From a tumblr prompt.

AKA, "A Justice League fic where everyone argues about who's the most beautiful and intimidating sexy from the Big Three and everyone has valid points."

My thoughts: I'm going to let the note I added to the bookmark I made of this fic speak for itself. Here's what I wrote: "This was so funny - shoutout Jason for undeniable lad vibes plus the fact he felt he needed to neatly organise and write down the big three's sexiest traits."

8. American Ninja Worrier by DangerBeckett

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

It's just like Tim to give a poor college student a start in the business world. Kid's a bleeding heart, and usually, that's the sort of thing Jason avoids at all costs. He prefers his bleeding hearts on the literal side, and despite Bruce's best efforts, he's never had a head for business.

Unfortunately, though, this time the business is ninjas, and that's the sort of thing that makes Jason take notice. Because Bruce is useless, and someone's gotta make sure Tim's new internship program doesn't take down all of Gotham.

That's Jason's job, after all.

My thoughts: Please GOD just read the first few paragraphs. You'll know exactly what I mean when I say that this fic is it. Hilarious, badass and adorable. I mean, see the title of this fic rec. I just knew this fic was going to be amazing from the first line.

I have many, many more of course, but I'll leave this here for now as it's getting to be a pretty long post. Anyway, these are all fics - short and long! - that I knew were going to be absolutely perfect within the first few moments of reading. I hope you enjoy them as much as I did!

[spxllcxstxr]

Crushing (on) the Competition • L.E

(Gif not mine)

Request: Hi! Sorry, can I request for Lily Evans? Just something that involves reader and Lily having friendly competition when it comes to studies, but Lily knows that reader has a crush on her but she waits for reader to finally admit it to her. — anon

Summary: Studying for hours in the library can lead to some strange dreams about one of your competitors.

Warnings: Gets a bit suggestive towards the end, school, homework, exams, a paragraph about Snape, glass breaking

Word Count: 1.6k

A.N: We can all agree that Karen looks absolutely stunning in this gif, right? Inspiration hit and this blurb became a fic. And I absolutely enjoy it. Hopefully it’s all good it became a bit suggestive, it really just came out that way without me planning it like that lmao. Hope you all enjoy! Love you all ❤️

****

The competition in your year was getting out of hand, in your opinion. There were four particular students, you included, vying for the top spot in every available class, but recently that seemed like an unobtainable goal. The four of you were equally matched as rivals, constantly battling each other for the top position, but never staying there long enough to boast and brag to your peers.

Hamish Stebbins, a Ravenclaw with pristine horn rimmed glasses and one of the most massive superiority complexes you’ve ever witnessed, was a force to be reckoned with, especially since he could bang out an O worthy essay of any length an hour before it’s due in class. And he made a living off of it. For the right price, a perfect score in any class of your choosing could be yours with that massive brain of his.

Severus Snape, while it pains you to admit it, was so effortlessly intelligent to the point where he was extremely smug about it. He took his time, carefully crafting out each word of an essay and never took short cuts on his assignments. Unlike Stebbins, however, his knowledge was his own, meaning not even Slughorn could force him to help another student with some measly little problem if it meant he had to impart some of his sacred knowledge.

Then there was Lily Evans. She poured her heart and soul into each assignment and it always paid off for her. But she wasn’t like the other two. Lily never bragged about her perfect grades or rubbed it in your face like Stebbins and Snape. She always went out of her way to help other students, for free, of course. Lily was willing to spend hours in the library explaining concept after concept to anybody who needed assistance. That was just the way she was.

And to be completely honest, you wouldn’t even be in the running for top of your year if it wasn’t for Lily and her persistent kindness.

Ever since you met in first year, the two of you held long study sessions in the library, pouring over textbooks until the text became fuzzy and your vision swam about. She often helped you understand lectures and pointed out how to decipher essay prompts. Luckily, you’re a quick learner so with her aid you were able to beat out most of the other students in your year.

The study sessions between the two of you still occur, but they’ve been shoved off to the side recently because of the heavy workload you each have to endure. The final two years of Hogwarts were the most crucial years of your life and you weren’t going to screw it all up now.

Plus, ever since she squeezed you into a bone crushing hug right before your final O.W.L. exam in fifth year, you can’t seem to form a sentence or even think straight around her anymore.

Your eyes always avoided her piercing green ones, instead focusing on how awkwardly your feet shuffled around in your black Mary Jane shoes against the stone flooring.

Many of those times where she would skip over to you unexpectedly, you would end up flinging your wand across the room or spilling your entirely new ink pot all over your fresh ream of parchment. She would always giggle and offer to help you clean your mess up, and you could never actually choke out a coherent thought before making a mad dash towards the exit.

So to save yourself from the embarrassment, you always wind up studying alone in the library well into the night.

So that’s where you find yourself well into Sunday evening, in the back corner of the library obscured by mountains of Transfiguration books, studying for the next day’s exam.

The four of you were equally skilled in the subject, meaning if wanted to be on top, you needed to work for it more than usual.

Your corner is dark and dusty, the only light being from the flickering lamps you lit and placed haphazardly around the oak table. They cast an eerie orange glow across the paper, almost dreamlike.

The handwritten black ink text starts to jumble together at around nine, which makes complete sense considering you’ve been holed up in this one spot since classes ended hours ago.

Your legs and your butt had gone numb hours ago, making your old rickety wooden chair seem comfortable.

Eyelids droop considerably, the weight almost becoming unbearable, just like how your head starts to slide away from your palm. The text starts to shift, and in your tired haze you distantly wonder when you started studying ancient runes.

You’re able to get out one meek yawn before your heavy head slips down to your textbook pillow and your vision cuts to a comforting black.

A delicate hand rests on your shoulder, trying to shake you awake.

In your dreamlike state, you blearily open your eyes and glance at the hand. It’s pale and freckled with light pink nail polish that looks fresh considering each nail is still in pristine condition. If they were yours, you would’ve bitten through it all already.

“(Y/n)?” The voice is soft and hushed. “Sweetheart, you gotta wake up, it’s past curfew.”

Your eyes trail up their robe covered arm and finally rest on their face. It takes you a moment to fully register the galaxy of freckles adorning their face and those green eyes that always made you fidget. She’s stunning in her Gryffindor robes, she always is in your dreams, her top two buttons are popped.

“Lily?” You mumble, still attempting to will yourself less tired. Yawning, you pick your head up.

“Did you spend all this time studying, sweetheart?” Lily continues, the hand on your shoulder trailing up to your jaw.

Sweetheart was the nickname Lily always used in your dreams and each time she addressed you, your stomach erupted in butterflies and your heart began to skip beats.

You hum and nod in response.

She pouts, her pink lips plump and vibrant. Swiftly, she moves a few of your books so she can prop herself up on the table while still looking at you.

Her grey pleated uniform skirt rides up her thigh a tad, exposing her soft and pale skin.

You swallow, eyes wide. “Merlin Lils, the things you do t’me.”

“And what, do tell (Y/n), do I do to you, exactly?” Her green eyes are wide and doe like, playful feigned innocence drenching her gentle features.

The particles of dust float aimlessly by, glowing like balls of light due to the lanterns you still have surrounding you.

She’s towering over your seated body, thumb swiping across your bottom lip.

Your dream was in a whole ‘nother territory now.

“Lily, I’ve fancied you since bloody fifth year! You can’t just—“ You sputter, heart pounding wildly in your chest. “We’ve got an exam—!”

She giggles, the lovely sound filling up the library.

“Oh, I’ve known about your crush for some time now, (Y/n).”

Breath catches in your throat. “Oh.”

Once again, Lily giggles. She pushes herself back against the table, skirt being pushed up even more, the stack of books behind her tipping, the lantern on top of them falling, falling, falling...

The shattering of glass makes you jolt up from your seat, the piercing sound waking you up as you tear your gaze away from Lily.

“Shit!” She curses. “Shit, I’m sorry, (Y/n).”

As she turns to wave away the mess, it suddenly occurs to you that you may not be dreaming after all. While her back’s turned, you pinch yourself hard, stifling your yelp behind your other hand.

A dreadful chill shoots down your spine causing your body to freeze.

You weren’t dreaming.

“Oh fuck.”

Quickly, your hands shoot up to your head, fingers grasping at your hair in disbelief and embarrassment.

Lily turns back to face you, eyebrows drawn together in concern, the glass gone.

“Are you alright? Did a shard get you—?”

“This—this wasn’t a dream.” You shakily state, staring at her.

“Do you frequently dream of me?” She raises an eyebrow, still stepping closer to your form.

“Yes!” You cry, before dropping your voice down, remembering that you are out after curfew even if Prefect Lily was with you. “That’s why I thought—I thought—“

“You only confessed because you thought it was a dream.” Lily interjects calmly in realization.

“Merlin, I’m so sorry!” You groan, gaping at your own stupidity.

“No! No, don’t be sorry, (Y/n)!” Her smile lights up her face once again as she moves her hands to cover your own. “I wanted to hear you admit your crush on me so I could...confess in return.” She bites her lip shyly.

“You—you like me?” You mutter, stomach doing complete flips.

“It was fifth year for me, too.” Lily confesses. “Something about seeing you all stressed out while studying and us huddling over a paragraph in the candlelight...” She trails off.

“Well that’s grand!” You laugh. “Absolutely ace!”

“Well c’mon then, sweetheart, let’s get you up to the dorms.” Lily chuckles as your rejoice.

“But the exam is tomorrow, Lily—“

“Tomorrow after lunch, (Y/n). You need your sleep if you wanna take down Snape and Stebbins.” Lily teases, helping you pack away your things into your leather bag.

“And if I want to take down you as well?” You ask, shoving books away and collecting your notes.

“Well,” She starts, shooting you a wink. “just ask me nicely.”

She laughs at your audible gulp before taking your hand and dragging you up to her own dorm.

•

All Character Taglist: @aspiringsloth20 @amourtentiaa @cherie-draco

[elytrafemme]

hi mare! hope you're doin well! i genuinely had no idea that today was tuesday, i literally woke up this morning and realized i didn't know what day it was (though i decided to not try and figure it out). that being said, it was quite nice to find out that it was a cough syrup tuesday.

okay first off, title for this chapter? fucking immaculate, i saw it and got so excited you have no idea. i just really like the song, it's on my cranboo playlist

starting off the chapter with dream and my thoughts reading that short bit of text are just "fuck you fuck you i hope you die you piece of shit bastard" and honestly i feel like that means you've absolutely done a great job with making cs!dream accurately terrible and bad! /pos im looking forward to seeing where this all goes (but i also want him to be killed :D )

the conversation about religion was so so interesting. growing up agnostic its always fascinating to me how different writers have their characters talk about religion and their beliefs, especially if they have contrasting perspectives and ideas. its something i dont think i'll ever get tired of hearing about, and the respective takes on religion for their characters i think are really fitting.

yooooooo cs!bench playing wii sports finally????? holy shit im so excited for that

also i love the way you write tommy its just so accurate and i smile every time he comes up cause like. that's one of my boys <3 hes fucked up and annoying and way too loud but he's also sort of endearing and cares so much for people. i love him dearly

"Ranboo wonders, idly, if Tubbo will ever become the sky to him, someday."

this line. irl i literally covered my mouth with my hand, fully turned off my phone screen, and laid down on my bed with my face in my hands. like genuinely had to take a moment to process. anyway i'm writing this as i read the fic and as of right now it's my favorite line and i know that there are so many other good ones but just for the sheer effect this had on my current emotional state (/pos dw) i'm calling it my favorite

"His eyes catch the moon, and, for the strangest reason, he feels a twinge of sadness in him. There's something about the moon when it's in crescent- waning today, he believes- that reminds him of memories he can't capture. A sense of absent longing, some kind of attachment to the crescent moon. He wishes he could remember more. He wishes the pieces he has of his childhood weren't fickle, and weren't simple things like playing piano, or stargazing, or having blackberries."

okay so right after that line i just said was my favorite you went ahead and wrote a whole paragraph that i deeply resonate with. what the fuck dude i literally cannot keep reading these chapters and going "oh this is my favorite line/scene!" and then proceed to copy and paste close to the entirety of the goddamn chapter into my little notes here. i simply cannot. but honestly i think its just going to keep happening anyway.

"Is it worth sacrificing his own memory to be loved?"

FUCKKK ohmt god ohh my god jsgfsddfdds

their little stargazing call :(( i care about them so much

manifesting more stargazing content <- this wont work but one can dream

"But Tubbo still listens. He may not understand, but he listens.

And Ranboo would like to believe that's enough."

!!!!!!!!!!!! FNFGFDFHDFGDGFGGFJK

i think there's something about reading this fic with each chapter update that makes me exhibit mentally ill behavior but i genuinely think that that just means its a really great fic

i really loved this chapter, i think its probably my favorite so far. i think i say that often but i honestly cant remember. i just really enjoy your characterization of ranboo in this. i feel like the more i learn about him the more i learn about myself if that makes sense? the way that you talk about how he feels about the world and his existence in it is something that i can never put words to for myself, but i often discover that i'm able to find those words after a little bit of thinking when i read his (or even sometimes tubbo's) perspective. its a funny thing, figuring out how to talk about your own thoughts through other people's interpretations of fictional characters. it all just seems kinda silly, y'know? i think it's just that it can be easier seeing someone else come up with the words for the things you're trying to describe for yourself sometimes. written media has always been my favorite for that reason.

the imagery was beautiful too, i really enjoyed it. i always enjoy everything about your writing honestly, but i know you're fully aware of that. you're just very good at what you do, you know?

anyway i'm looking forward to the next chapter! i know you said that the release of this chapter means we're really gearing up for the main plot and everything now and that's super exciting!

take care of yourself, and i hope you have a good day/night whenever you get around to reading this <3

HI LIV :]

it's SUCH a good song!!! reminds me of nina cos apologies from the intercom but yeah! i had it on loop during the last scene of the chapter, and i had already planned to use it for a later chapter but decided i should swap it to be this chapter. whether this was a good decision or not is pending but regardless its SUCH a good song :D

HELP CS!DREAM SUCKS SO BAD FR...

YEAH! people seemed to really like the discussion of religion in the chapter and it's been really interesting to hear what people have said about it! i'm a religious person myself (though me and religion have a complicated history) but i absolutely love writing about people's perspective on religion, i like seeing how everyone's worldviews meet and collide and everything

YES I'M SO EXCITED... Wii Sports Resort my fucking ADORED

god i love writing cs!tommy so much. SO much. he's just such a genuinely good guy and he's so earnest and he just wants to be okay. i love him so bad i'm so glad people like him

i love seeing what lines are your favorites :D there's going to be a lot more of this celestial imagery, i'm obsessed with it and i'm so glad that you like it :] your compliments make me grin lots

i can't remember if i told u this or not but cmon liv look at me. consider everything u know about me. i'm not ending this fic without at least two more stargazing scenes PROMISE.

"i think there's something about reading this fic with each chapter update that makes me exhibit mentally ill behavior" this is one of the funniest fucking things anyone has ever said about cough syrup thank you for this

augh liv you're the sweetest thank you so much, i'm glad you can see yourself in cs!ranboo :] he's such a nice character to write because there's so much about himself he's trying to piece together and discover and that makes such a messy process (a very messy process jesus christ writing it is a whole hell of a ride) but what i hope to be a very realistic one? he's just. i care about him a lot and it means a lot that people like him, he's just my guy :] i'm so so happy you liked the chapter liv, hope you have a wonderful morning whenever you wake up and see this (ik its pretty early for u rn)

[reaperlight]

Do you have any lawryght headcanons?

@greenpactbosmer Thanks for the ask!

Headcanons... ooh boy, well...

(Oh and I saw you had another ask there too but I think I may have misunderstood the prompt/what was being asked? In any case I should probablt edit the paragraphs of brain vomit that came out of that but until then here's more paragraphs of brain vomit, uh... sorry 😔)

Anyway...

Headcanons for lawryght can vary greatly from fic verse to fic verse but let's see curtent HC generally...

These three getting together in a canon-like universe...

The RyukxLight will either be established relationship or at the very least Ryuk is more helpful to Light and his plans than in canon to the point Light feels secure enough in his position so he can give L a chance and not feel like he has to kill him immediately so a relationship could actually develop between Light and L beyond "oh no, he's hot... I still have to kill him." (Also expect Light to be even more arrogant and insufferable because he thinks he's immortal and has the power of deathgod and anime on his side.)

Ryuk and Light getting together: And then they were roommates (oh my they were roommates) and there was only one bed--Shinigami don't really need to sleep but Light doesn't know that and the bed is comfy so Ryuk doesn't fell the need to tell him.

They are both extremely bored. Ryuk is absolutely fascinated with this human--he may not be on Light's side (or so he claims) but the entertainment value is beyond his wildest dreams. He is smitten, even if he doesn't admit it. If Light is curious about something hell try at least once... Or Light may be trying to get free Shinigami eyes out of him and they catch feelings.

L enters the picture... Ryuk doesn't mind sharing 1. Hes immortal and bored and... two interesting humans! This is so cool! 2. Shinigami don't have the same ideas about monogamy. 3. Headcanons about Ryuk vary depending on if rule 36 valid up to this point in the ficverse. (I.e. Chad!Ryuk vs. Virgin!Ryuk)

L and Ryuk--L is very disturbed to learn that his case actually has a supernatural component and is more leery of Ryuk than of Light at first. This lasts for all of the moment it takes to remember that Light is Kira and Ryuk is afraid of tennis balls.

After 5 minutes of soul searching, L can admit to himself he has a thing for monsters--both internal and external.

Assuming they are all alive and this takes place in early canon this shippable version of L is probably more interested in having fun then bringing Kira to justice. Either that or he has become disillusioned with the status quo or hurt and and wants revenge to the point that he's willing to entertain Light's way of doing things.

If its post series, maybe Ryuk is bored so goes looking for Light in Mu and ends up pulling both Light and L out of Mu because their souls are intertwined and once restored as humans or Shinigami or something shippable in the afterlife then it's just learning to rely on each other as they forge a new arrangement in the Shinigami realm.

Top/bottom it's not assigned seating Regardless of bedroom positions or what arrangement they have out of the bedroom Light is the dom/one in charge of this arrangement in bed... but subs L and Ryuk unionize and gang up on him. Light is a dom in bed but not always a top. L as a sub but not always bottom. Ryuk as a service top or power bottom. Ryuk doesn't really feel pain like humans do and will go with whatever he and his partners find interesting.

Contrary to rumor Light and L aren't always fighting over who gets to top. Fighting is for chess matches, clashes of ideology, and the last chocolate eclaire--not the bedroom. Consent, safe words, and mutual respect are all very important.

(The safe word is vegetables)

Light is very dom. In every relationship before or since. Except there's Ryuk, looming over him. Making him feel kinda excited and confused and then theres that stupid sexy voice of his... But ryuk is the exception. (But he might let L fuck him if he asks nicely and submits to Kira's reign.)

When they sleep together Ryuk likes to keep them both wrapped in his wings. He likes being the little spoon sometimes though...

L gets Ryuk addicted to apple desserts.

Light frequently ends up cleaning up after the other two. Ryuk helps when he remembers but typically L is a brat.

Light: How can you stand to live like this?

Ryuk: I was formed in a dustbowl.

Light: Yes, it shows.

L [throwing candy wrappers on the ground]: Why are you doing that, that's what Watari is for?

Others who might potentially join the polycule under the right set of circumstances: B, Mikami, Aiber, Matsuda...

Some very noncanon AU ideas...

Superhero aus (current wips)

Winning and ruling the world(s) au (current wips)

Light gets in trouble (of either a mundane or supernatural variety) and Ryuk goes to L to ask for his help because he's the only human he can think of who would be clever enough to help Light and because of supernatural restrictions Ryuk can't save Light by himself. L is annoyed to have his fun ruined by having it confirmed that Light is Kira in this way, pissed that Light could get himself into a situation like this, and also pissed at himself that Ryuk doesn't even need to threaten him to want to risk everything to save him. After they save Light, L decides there's no point in continuing the kira case because it no longer interests him. He returns INTERPOLs money and after Light recovers from his ordeal the three go on vacation looking for something interesting but less hazardous than their previous ordeal. L becomes fascinated with the supernatural and wants to go ghost and cryptid hunting, seeking out ancient mysteries and Ryuk has plenty of leads in that. Light is still more interested in becoming god of the new world but "fine, if you guys insist..." (he doesn't want to admit he's having fun too). They drive around in L's pink crepe van huntjng ghosts, solving mysteries. Light occasionally writes the names of murderous jerks and people who are assholes to L thst they meet along the way while Ryuk laughs and L scowls in a mildly disapproving way but never really discourages him.

Au inverting the dynamics so its established relationship of lawlight first and then Ryuk joins the polycule: AU where Light and L are the same age and are childhood friends and when Light finds the Death Note they become Kira together. Ryuk is fascinated by them both and slowburn they realize their feelings for each other.

Or... Human!Ryuk and mundane college AU Ryuk is in a metal band and is probably studying art and helps rival law students Ligtt and L to chill... at least until Ryuk gets in trouble for drug possession and then Light and L compete to be his better defense counsel.

Monster AU werewolf or vampire au that's canon adjacent--Ryuk bites Light, Light goes on to monster better than Ryuk does then Light bites L, the monster hunter who falls for him...

7. Haunted house au

8. The quarantine au--Light is annoyed because now killing as Kira feels rather pointless. L is annoyed because this is boring. Ryuk is having a blast because they're playing with him a whole lot more. If L and Light doesn't just use the L screen, Ryuk is always in the background, having floating, juggling apples photobomb the zoom calls.

And suddenly Ryuk is important.

Ryuk runs errand for them because he has no danger of catching the plague. They play video games, watch movies, bitch at each other, and get into pointless arguments over stupid things.

Also L makes them custom masks modeled after Ryuk's fangs just because.

Other ideas:

Wammys house and lawryght

Option 1: Wammy's house tooth rotting fluff, adopting all the orphans

Option 2: Wammy's house evil, B was right. It's really just about being raised as a weapon. It's like the stormtrooper program for genius orphans that may not have actually been orphans before the institute took an interest in them.

Option 3: Wammy's house complicated. The institute really is trying to do better, is the best place for the kids and while not perfect its closest thing to home/family they have.

Lawryght and Morality

These 3 can be awful enablers of each other's worst qualities. Then again...

Light: Huh, Ryuk thinks we're going too far. Maybe we should rethink this.

L [already has the prisoner tied up and being forced to listen to polka music on repeat]: But where's the fun in that?

Finding a home together

With Kira and a Shinigami as his boyfriend L feels secure enough to do more normal things he's been denied all his life.

With Ryuks help, Light finds the names of all of L's major enemies and gets to writing in the Death Note.

Light: Be mad if you want. I'm not sorry.

L tries to be mad, and fails. He can't help but feel relieved that they're gone.

He might even entertain the thought of having a permanent address.

He still enjoys traveling though.

Also L gets a kitten

The cat loves chasing Ryuk's feathers.

The cat likes Light's lap the best because Light went out of his way not to look at the cat.

....

Ah, that was probably way too long. But thanks for letting me ramble! 😆

[tema-makes-art-sometimes]

002 | germano?

HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE

002 | send me a ship and I will tell you:

when I started shipping it.

No idea but it was a long ass fuck time ago. Liked it for years but didn’t really start enjoying it until I started writing Romano myself.

my thoughts:

This ship makes me so genuinely happy man. I know GerCanMano is my flag ship but I love Germano just as much and I at least have a few crumbs of content for them instead of the other which has none. Germano just like-- Seeing Romano in a healthy relationship and seeing Germany happy makes me happy.

What makes me happy about them:

I’m not one for slow burns all the time but Germano to me is one of those slow burn romances I really enjoy. Romano is a sassy and salty flirtatious gentleman who keeps measuring himself up to the big broad and awkward-but-gold-at-heart class president who doesn't understand why the guy gets so upset around him and tries his best to remedy the smaller man’s anger.

The two just slowly developing, starting as rivals with Romano wanting the attention from his brother that Germany gets (and possibly the smallest bit of envy about measuring himself up to ger in macho-ness) and Germany just wanting to understand Romano and just like- how he ticks. Them slowly bonding over the simple things, realizing they both love mechanics and gardening and cooking. Romano being impressed at Germany’s baking (bonus points if say Vene has been bringing home baked goods for ages and he thought they were just from a bakery Vene liked but it was just Ger trying to get rid of the food hes stress baking) and Romano getting to show off his cooking skills. Romano feeling a bit of pride when he makes Germany laugh at some shitty joke or snarky comeback, he just hears that little wheeze or chuckle under Germany’s breath and knows he did that.

Romano having a whole I wont say I'm in love crisis when he realizes hes falling for Germany because sure hes cute and all but like what no. My Romano is very flirtatious but emotionally withdrawn he loves to flirt around but he doesn't actually think about long term relations cause he never expects people to care about him that way so falling for Ger throws him for a loop. But he knows he has to make some decision on it because he can’t get Germany out of his mind but the thought of Germany saying no scares him more than anything else ever has and the thought of breaking Germany's heart makes him more angry than he thought he’d ever feel

Meanwhile Germany is a mess because he has no idea what hes doing all he knows is that Romano’s smile makes him melt and every time he thinks of the future he thinks about the two of them passing tools to each other over the hood of a car and kneading foccacia together and hes doing all of the research he can to try and perfectly convey how he feels and it only works when he for once throws out his plan and just speaks from his heart and stops over thinking everything. And its wholesome and personal and cute and Romano starts crying halfway through which freaks Germany out cause he doesn't want to force anything and oh god did i make you uncomfortable but before he can apologize and backpedal Romano just grabs him by the shirt and pulls him down into a smooch and for once in his life Roma doesn't instinctively jump and when someone reaches out to hug him.

What makes me sad about them:

That they get sidelined for other ships and that people cannot have Germany or Romano exist in a narrative without Veneziano having something to do with it.

Things done in fanfic that annoys me:

People assuming Germany and Romano would be abusive with one another because Romano acts snappy and dismissive around him when in reality he does the same exact behavior to literally everyone else; America, Spain etc. But Germany is the one that’s abusive, and not the others. Germany’s never been shown to hate Romano, confused and rolling his eyes at his insults sure but never hatred.

A lot of people take this in the direction that they hate or abuse each other or worse, like Germany would cheat and use both brothers. Which is just not true, let alone Romano is too much of a blunt mother fucker to let it happen. He wouldn’t take that. Being used or measured second to his brother is so common to him you think he would just lay down and let that happen? No. And Germany isn’t the sleep around without a care or being in a relationship with two people because he can’t decide which he likes more type the guys a romance moron he doesn’t know how to date one man let alone commit adultery.

Which sucks because things like the chauffeur strips show that Romano and Germany are on at least amicable if not friendly terms, Romano is just being Romano, he does the same pissy but nice energy that he does to Spain and America to Germany. And there’s so much there that could be played with, of Romano being reassured by Germany that he’s not this evil bad boy in fact his brother can be worse than he is, and Germany would know Vene has been attached to his side for ages he would know Vene at his worse. Romano showing off to Germany, impressing him that yes Romano can in fact work hard when he wants to and feels inclined to. Which would gain him respect from Germany because he’s so used to doing it himself it’s always a pleasant surprise when people help him or don’t leave him to do everything.

But often in fics this is squandered for the whole ‘Germany’s married to Vene but he’s in love with Romano oh no conflict drama’ and they never make him choose. Or worse he has him two time one and then the other which just isn’t even fucking in character. 90% of the fics I’ve found on AO3 have the under current of how does their relationship effect Vene, how does Vene feel about it or how is he involved and it’s so stupid. It’s only ever done with Romano, never to Vene, Romano is always treated like an extra or an asset to Veneziano and its never the other way around. People don’t write Gerita fics and have the whole story about how Romano feels about it.

Germany’s feelings toward Vene can easily be stated in that ‘he’s just my friend’ it’s so simple but instead often its paragraphs on paragraphs of Germany grappling with his feelings for both and I’m just not interested. If I wanted to read about Germany’s feelings toward Italy, I’d read a Gerita fanfiction. Also you can’t tell me that if Vene found out about the two being interested or even one of them being interested in the other he wouldn’t start playing matchmaker he absolutely would. Hell if you want that “conflict” have Vene be jealous he’s petty enough to do that!

I’m willing to take the L on this and admit I just have higher standards, but I just want a fic that has them in a relationship from the start or they build up to it but not have the fic end the moment they get together or have their first date. One that doesn’t focus on a side plot about Vene and Germany’s feelings toward Vene. Where they just get to be wholesome together, piece their feelings apart together, and develop their love for each other together.

TLDR: I’m very salty about Germano getting the short end of the stick and want to see more sweet domestic germano.

Things I look for in fanfic:

For it to exist and for it not to be a vector to talk about Veneziano’s opinions on their relationship. I just want wholesome content of Germany and Romano building a relationship or a life together, AU or Canonverse wise. The cute dates, working on cars together, gardening, baking and cooking-- Germany playing piano or flute while Romano sings. Them dancing together. Romano taking Germany out to tour and sight see. Romano forcing Germany to cuddle with him in front of the fireplace if they go up during winter to his place cause he hates the cold and his block of a boyfriend is very warm.

My happily ever after for them:

I don’t really think about happily ever afters for them cause as nations their lives move on, they can’t really have kids but they can live together, work together, love together and honestly that’s enough for me.

My kinks:

These will be below the cut, because of ns//fw mentions.

(general sex discussion, bd//m discussion, toys and other such ns//fw things.)

Romano is a bottom little pillow princess but despite that he has the most control in the bedroom. Germany doesn’t lack interest but when it comes to instigation it’s fewer and far between, Romano has more of a sex drive than him. Germany’s more into kinks than Romano, but he has trouble being confident enough to do it so Romano is often baiting him into it. He’s a brat who wants to be tamed and Germany doesn’t mind Romano being rough with him and vice versa.

Romano’s more used to rough and tumble, so when Germany is very slow soft and sincere he gets flustered really fast and can fall apart a lot quicker. He also will cry when Germany compliments him too much early in the relationship. They have a lot of safe words at Germany’s request so if either of them get too overwhelmed they have a safe out and will just vibe and cuddle until the other feels better enough to continue.

Romano will give Germany is rope bunny fantasies every once and a while and tie him up, he’s not into much more than handcuffs and collars but Germany enjoys it so he doesn’t mind. He loves when he can convince Germany into roleplay and let Germany get into a more confident ‘character’. His favorite things are bites and blowjobs. Leaving Germany covered in red marks and scratches is his favorite and he loves the rare sight of Germany squirming under him.

Germany loves to body worship Romano, and messages all of the messages. Romano doesn’t like Germany dragging it out but sometimes he can’t help himself cause he just loves how pretty Romano his and he wants to just touch him all over. He loves when Romano plays with his hair (at least in the bedroom), and since Romano is way more vocal than he is he loves coaxing little sounds out of him through different touches and kisses.

[bazzledazzled]

Would You Be So Kind (As To Fall In Love With Me)

Fic for @absolute-nightmare for the @coexchange!! 

Description: Simon Snow doesn’t remember quite when he fell in love with Baz. Maybe it was when he first met him, running gracefully across the football field with his hair tied up. Or maybe it was when they were playing video games at a sleepover and Baz’s leg bumped against his, sending a thumping pulse through his heart. Or maybe it was this year, when Baz came out to him and Simon realized he had a chance.

They’ve been friends since the beginning of High School, but Simon longed for something more.

Tags: High School AU, Normal AU, Friends to Lovers, a bit of Punk/Pastel AU

Trigger Warnings: Minor mention of alcohol abuse and emotional abuse in one of the paragraphs

I hope you enjoy!! I decided to go with a bit of a Highschool AU for this one and it evolved into a friends to lovers fic so yeah! Enjoy :)

Read it on AO3 or read it below -> 

Simon Snow and Baz Pitch were polar opposites, anyone could see that.

Anyone who spared a glance at the odd pair knew this, from Baz’s obnoxious floral shirts and well maintained hair, to Simon’s haggard appearance and leather jacket.They fit together like two pieces of a puzzle, complimenting each other, like Persephone and Hades, or yin and yang. Despite everything; who they were, where they came from, and what they looked like, they still were inseparable. They matched.

Simon Snow doesn’t remember quite when he fell in love with Baz. Maybe it was when he first met him, running gracefully across the football field with his hair tied up. Or maybe it was when they were playing video games at a sleepover and Baz’s leg bumped against his, sending a thumping pulse through his heart. Or maybe it was this year, when Baz came out to him and Simon realized he had a chance.

They’ve been friends since the beginning of High School, but Simon longed for something more. He laid awake in bed, staring at the ceiling, his heart thrumming in his chest. He thought of Baz’s inky black hair and thought about what it might feel like to run his fingers through it. He thought about how he always smelled like something citrusy and crisp, like Earl Grey tea that made Simon wish for a soft, domestic morning with him full of soft kisses and morning tea.

And Simon hated it. No, hate wasn’t the strong enough. He loathed it. He loathed it because here was someone who was completely and utterly perfect, someone he actually had a shot with that wouldn’t care that he’s a guy and knows him inside and out, but for some reason Simon kept holding himself back. He held himself back, not daring to test the waters of their friendship and ruin what they had. He didn’t want to lose Baz as a friend, crush or not. He refused.

So Simon kept his crush bottled away deep down inside him, not daring to let it see the sunshine. He thought that maybe, if he tucked it away, he might be able to shake off these feelings. Maybe they would dissipate and he wouldn’t have to worry about it. Maybe it would work.

————

“We need to find Si a girlfriend,” Agatha says at lunch, her face screwed with determination. Simon sighs, putting down the scone he was eating.

“Ags, please tell me you’re not on this again.”

“Oh she totally is,” Penny says, waving a hand dismissively. “And she has a point. You’ve been moping about like a sad puppy lately saying you’re lonely and want a girlfriend.”

“I didn’t say I wanted a girlfriend,” Simon says, stabbing a strawberry with a fork.

“A boyfriend, then,” Penny says, not a hint of a question in her voice. Simon almost chokes.

“Pen. I don’t need a relationship.”

“Then why do you keep moaning about being single?” Agatha says with a condescending tilt in her brow. Simon huffs, averting his gaze.

“Because I want a boyfriend.”

“Aha! I knew it.” Penny grins victoriously. “Now come on. You have to have a crush on someone. Give us some ideas.”

“I don’t like anyone, Pen.”

“What about that one kid? Rhys I think it was?” Simon scrunches his nose.

“Right. Not him. What about Phillipia?”

“Oh god no.”

“Right. Hmm....” A chair beside Simon moves out and a lunch tray plops down on the table as Baz slides in next to him. He’s wearing a pink shirt with red roses on it and dark jeans that make Simon flush. He pushes his hair out of his eyes, a smile on his lips as he looks at Simon. His gaze lands on Penny and he sighs.

“What are you three up to this time?”

“Who says we’re up to something?” Agatha says, leaning over the table with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Bunce has that look in her eyes and Snow just looks lost, so obviously you’re hatching an elaborate scheme.”

“We’re trying to find someone for Simon to date,” Penny says, tapping her fingers against the table.

“Ah. Good luck with that. It would take some pretty skilled matchmakers to find someone to date Snow.”

“Hey! I could be a good boyfriend.”

“I have no doubt.” The look in Baz’s eyes is... intense. Simon has no idea how he should read it.

“Hey Baz, you’re gay right?” Agatha pipes in. Baz snorts.

“Does this have a point?”

“I mean, you’re gay and single, Simon’s single and somewhat into dudes.... you know you guys probably could....” Agatha gestured vaguely. Simon’s heart starts to beat out of his chest, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips. His stomach twists dangerously and he feels like he might puke. 

Fuck.

Baz rolls his eyes. “Ok, Wellbelove.” They move on to a new topic, Penny rambling about some book she read and Baz seeming completely invested in the conversation. But one thing sticks in Simon’s mind even after lunch.

Baz didn’t say no.

——————

When Simon gets to Baz’s car after school that day, Simon immediately knows what he’s going to say. It’s obvious in the way his brow scrunches in concern as Simon runs his hands through his messy curls.

“Is your lip bleeding?” Baz says, reaching out his hand towards Simon’s cheek, then pulling it back.

“It’s fine,” Simon mumbles, even though it isn’t. It’s the second time this month this has happened.

“Simon...” Baz says in that soft voice, the one he saves for when it’s just the two of them. He picks up Simon’s hand, running his thumb over Simon’s knuckles that are cracked and bleeding, rough from countless fights. They’re all over stupid things, but Simon can’t seem to stop himself. He can’t just turn away when someone corners him, calling him names. He can’t just keep walking when he sees some kid picking on another kid in the halls. And he definitely can’t stop himself when he hears people throwing homophobic comments about Baz behind his back.

“What happened?” Baz says, looking at him with the same sternness he always uses in these situations. Simon huffs.

“Just some kid. It’s not important.” But it is. Because it wasn’t just some kid. It was some kid gossiping about Baz, saying mean, hurtful things. It was some kid who, when Simon told him to stop, taunted him and called Baz his boyfriend, not realizing that that’s all Simon’s ever wanted. It was some kid who threw the first punch, not realizing that Simon has done this before, and he wasn’t scared.

Baz sighs, squeezing Simon’s hand in his. It makes his heart leap, beating so fast that he wondered if maybe this would be the moment. Maybe he’d confess to Baz, announcing his undying love, and Baz would say he felt the same way too, and then they’d kiss in the school parking lot on the hood of Baz’s expensive car, their future set from here on out.

Baz pulls his hands away, grabbing his keys from his pocket. “Get in the car, you nightmare. We’re going to the mall.” Simon groans.

“Again? You were just there yesterday.”

“Yes but the Christmas present I got for Mordelia is something she already has so I have to return it and get a new one. Please? You know you’re better than me at picking presents for her.”

“Alright, fine. But you’re buying me a pretzel.”

“Fine.”

—————

Christmas break was at the end of the week, and Simon didn’t want it to come. Well, he did, because it would mean a break from the mountains of school work he had, but he also didn’t, because it meant it would be a lot less time with his friends and a lot more time with his father, pretending they weren’t a dysfunctional family.

Simon’s father wasn’t terrible. He never hit him, but he also wasn’t the best. He was drunk a lot of the time and was always yelling about how much of a disappointment Simon was. He didn’t like that he didn’t make the football team and he hated that Simon’s grades were just barely passing. None of Simon’s victories seemed like victories to him, and Simon was just done with it. He wanted to find a way to be away from the house as much as possible during break, but he also knew that his friends had families that they needed to be with for the holidays, too.

Nonetheless, when Simon came home on Friday night to his dad drunk in the living room, mumbling incoherently, he turned right around and called Baz.

Baz picked up on the second ring.

“Hey is everything ok?”

“Do you want to go out for dinner,” Simon says in a rush. Baz coughs.

“Um—“

“I mean— not out— I mean, yes, I just-” Simon huffs. “Can we hang out tonight? I know it's the last minute and all that but I just... I don’t want to go home.” Baz doesn’t hesitate.

“I’ll be at your house in five.”

————

This, in Baz’s opinion, was one of the worst parts of being gay. Yes, there were the homophobes and the bullies and his not at all accepting father, but he could deal with that. He could tune them out until all that was left was white noise.

But this, this was something Baz couldn’t ignore. How was he supposed to handle a crush on his best friend? If he asked Simon out directly, it could backfire on him and he’d ruin the friendship they spent four years building up. But if he didn’t say anything, he obsessed over his crush, picking apart every little detail of his interactions with Simon wondering if maybe, maybe Simon might feel the same towards him.

So when Simon called him at 5pm, asking if he wanted to go out to dinner, Baz was left wondering how to interpret it. It was probably just the same old “I’m lonely and I need someone to hang out with.” But if that were the case, why didn’t Simon call Agatha or Penny? He was much closer to them. Or why not suggest a sleepover with everyone? Or invite everyone to dinner? The more and more they hung out alone, the more Baz drove himself crazy wondering.

Maybe he was blowing it out of proportion, but it still didn’t stop his beating heart as he pulled into Simon’s driveway. Simon climbed in, his curls wild and free and his blue eyes piercing through the darkness. He smiled his warm smile at Baz, a smile that was full of dimples and sunshine and made Baz's heart do belly flops.

“Where to?” Baz asks, putting the car in reverse. Simon’s eyes light up.

“iHop.”

————————

Simon drowned his fifth pancake in maple syrup and butter. He asked for more butter a while ago and they brought him a plate full of the stuff. He slathered it on his golden pancakes, laying down a thick layer of white saturated fat.

It was absolutely disgusting.

When Baz became friends with Simon at the beginning of freshman year, he learned to look away when Simon was eating. He was a little messy and lacked more than a few table manners, but it wasn’t terrible. None of Simon’s eating habits were awful, save for the unholy slathering of butter. Baz didn’t understand it, nor did he want to.

“I think there’s more butter and syrup on that pancake than actual pancake.” Simon swallows his bite, grinning toothily at Baz.

“It’s delicious though.”

“Disgusting.” Yet Baz still couldn’t help but think about how beautiful Simon’s dopey grin was and the way his cheeks turned red.

“You wanna try a bit?” Simon asks, holding up a fork with a bit of pancake on it. Syrup slowly dropped from it, golden brown like Simon’s curls. Baz wrinkled his nose.

“I think I’ll skip on that, thanks.” Simon shrugs, continuing to shovel food in his mouth. Baz ordered some eggs, but Simon ended up eating more of them than he did. Baz never had much of an appetite, but Simon’s seemed never-ending.

“You excited for Christmas?” Simon asks, looking up at Baz with his plain blue eyes. Baz snorts.

“Not particularly, but I’ll get by.” Simon frowns.

“Your dad?” Baz runs a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, but what else is new.” Simon reaches out across the table, taking Baz’s hand in a comforting manner. Baz gulps.

“Guess we both god shitty fathers, huh?” Baz offers a weak smile.

“Guess so.” Simon bites his lip, as if thinking. His eyes spark in the way they do when he gets an idea or is about to make an impulse decision.

“Hey we should try to hang out over break! Get away from family and stuff, you know?” Baz smiles.

“Yeah.” Simon taps his fingers against the wooden table.

“How do you feel about going to see a movie on Monday?”

——————

It’s not a date.

Obviously it’s not a date. There will never be a universe where Simon Snow asks Baz Pitch out on a date other than in Baz’s dreams.

So why was Baz stressing over his outfit for the past hour? He honestly had no idea.

Nothing he tried on seemed to work. Some stuff looked like he was trying too hard, others looked like he wasn’t trying hard enough. It was honestly too much work considering that they were just friends going to see a movie together in the dark where they won’t be able to see each other anyway so theoretically what they wear doesn’t even matter, but Baz was Baz and he had to be extra about everything.

Eventually he settled on a light grey button down and a pair of jeans. It wasn’t one of his best outfits, but it was casual enough for him that it didn’t seem like he was trying too hard. Even though he spent an hour on his hair alone.

The drive over to Simon’s house was shorter than Baz would’ve liked. He didn’t have enough time to organize his thoughts before he was in the driveway, watching as Simon locked the door behind him and bounded down the front steps of his house, his hair bouncing off his forehead. He was wearing a worn grey sweater and  tattered jeans. He looked slightly like a disaster, but that didn���t stop Baz’s heart from pounding. In fact, he found it almost endearing.

That didn’t mean he didn’t make fun of him, though.

“Snow your sweater sleeves have holes in them for god's sake,” Baz says as Simon shuts the car door behind him. Simon smiles back at him.

“It’s comfy though.” Baz rolls his eyes, a hint of a smile on his face. They lapse into a comfortable silence as Baz pulls out of the driveway and onto the street. Simon fiddles with the radio, turning the dial until he finds a song he likes. Some American song starts playing and a guitar solo fills the car. Simon starts to mumble along to the lyrics, bobbing his head and tapping his fingers against his legs. He smiles, getting more and more into it. Baz flashes him a look as he bursts into chorus, singing at the top of his lungs. Baz laughs, shaking his head. The song finishes and Simon grins, his eyes wild and bright.

This goes on for a few more songs, with Simon obviously trying to get Baz to join in on his shenanigans. Baz refuses, but can’t seem to help himself once Bohemian Rhapsody starts playing. Simon’s smile only seems to get more dazzling.

They make it to the movie theater, already buzzing and laughing.  Simon skips ahead of Baz, the sun catching in his bronze curls as he turns to him, almost creating a sort of halo around him.

Their hands brush as they head to the ticket line and Baz wonders if he might be dreaming.

_____________

So Love, Simon may have not been the best movie to go see on Simon’s not-date with Baz. For starters, Baz started crying halfway through.

In retrospect, Simon should’ve expected this outcome, even though he didn’t realize Baz was a crier. The entire plot of the movie is something that resonated with so many people, especially people like Baz and… well, he guesses himself, even though he’s not really sure what he is.

Simon never knows how to deal with someone who’s crying. Back when he used to date Agatha, there would be times where she’d have a breakdown over something and everytime Simon felt like he was making the situation worse instead of helping. He’s not cut out for this.

Tentatively, he reaches out to Baz, taking his hand. They’re rougher and boneier than Simon’s, and a lot longer. He blushes as Baz looks over at him. Baz squeezes his hand and Simon feels his heart stutter in his chest, faltering for a moment as their eyes connect.

They don’t let go for the rest of the movie.

________________

“Pen. I have an issue.”

________________

“Ags….. we have a slight problem.”

_________________

“What is it Si? Is it that math test? I told you you have it down you just need to breathe and remember what we worked on.”

_______________

“Since when do you not have a problem, Baz? You’re literally a bigger Drama Queen than me.”

_______________

“No Pen…. it’s not that it’s just….”

_______________

“This is a real problem, Agatha, listen—“

————————-

“I kind of, maybe, sort of, possibly—“

————————

“I may or may not have—“

______________

“Have a crush on Baz.”

_______________

“Fallen in love with Simon.”

______________

Agatha huffs, hanging up the phone after listening to a 30 minute rant on Baz’s part about how perfect Simon’s hair is and the specific shade of blue his eyes are. Honestly .

Immediately, the phone rings again. Grunting, Agatha picks it up, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Baz I swear to god if I hear one more word about Simon holding your hand I will end you.”

“So he did call you?”

“Penny!”

“Let me guess. You just got off the phone with Baz and his emo bullshit about how Simon will never love him.”

“How did you know?” Penny sighs.

“Because. I just got off of the phone with Simon and his emo bullshit about how Baz will never see him as anything other than a friend.”

“They’re idiots, aren’t they?”

“Yep.” There’s a moment of silence.

“Are we going to intervene?”

“Of course we are.”

________________

All things considered, Baz knew the love letter was a bad idea. He knew the unspoken rule about love letters: if you weren’t planning on sending them, you shouldn’t write them.

But they were a great way to get out frustrations. It was a way for Baz to use his pent up emotion towards something productive and fantasize about telling Simon how he truly felt.

Simon was never meant to read it.

__________________

Was it wrong? Possibly. Was it needed? Most definitely.

Valentine’s day is this Friday, and both Penny and Agatha are sick and tired of Simon and Baz’s complaining, Simon a lot more than Baz. They just didn’t seem to be able to stop with their lovesick moping and at this point it was ridiculous. Neither of them were courageous enough to make the first move, so it was left to Penny and Agatha to make it happen.

When Agatha saw the love letter, she knew exactly what to do.

___________________

Friday was one of the gloomiest days of the week. It was raining, the sky was cloudy, and Simon woke up late and barely had time to run out to Baz’s car to make it to school. Baz threw a fit about it, but Simon couldn’t see why it mattered, considering they still made it there half an hour before school started. Baz complained about how the rain made his hair frizz up as he desperately tried to slick it back again with no avail. Simon liked it better this way, falling loosely around his face in waves, but he didn’t tell Baz that.  

When they arrived, they found that the halls were decorated with bright red and pink hearts and couples stood close together, whispering things in each other’s ears with smiles on their faces as everyone was swept up into the euphoria of Valentines Day. Boyfriends gave their girlfriends roses and cheesy heart shaped boxes filled with chocolate. The hallways were a mess of teenage hormones and whispers of happily ever afters.

Baz seemed to be in a particularly sour mood today, and Simon didn’t blame him. Valentine’s day was just another one of those made up holidays that encouraged consumerism and made single people feel like shit (at least that’s what Baz had said on multiple occasions).

Simon and Baz did all the things they usually did in the morning before school. They dropped off Baz’s violin in the orchestra room, they dropped the books Baz finished off at the library, and met up with Penny and Agatha. Agatha gave them all heart shaped lollipops and little handwritten cards that made Simon tear up a little and give her a big hug. Baz rolled his eyes, but he had a small smile on his face as he whispered a curt, “thank you” to Agatha.

The bell rang. The overhead speakers played some cheesy love songs from the early 2000s, when love songs were in their prime. Baz rolled his eyes and made some sort of snarky remark about the music that made everyone laugh. They walked to class and parted ways, Simon and Penny heading for their math class and Baz and Agatha going towards English. They listened to the monotonous morning announcements and Penny gave Simon a look when he played on his phone instead of paying attention.

Sighing, Simon pulled out his math textbook, grunting at the weight of it. Most teachers didn’t even issue textbooks to the students, let alone used them. At this point, most of them were out of date and teachers found the internet to be a lot more useful. But not Ms. Ortiz. She refused to use the internet and did everything the old fashioned way: textbooks and a white board. A student tried to talk her into using the smart board, claiming that it would be a lot easier to do notes with, but she refused, saying they didn’t have time to fuss with projectors and calibrations.

Simon opened up his textbook to the section they were currently working on. He already had the page marked since he and Baz were working on it last night. It was honestly a miracle Simon passed any of his classes before Baz came along. He was such a calm and patient teacher, not caring how many times Simon messed up. It’s funny, because Simon thought he would be the opposite, but he wasn’t. It’s no wonder he wanted to get a teaching degree when he got out of high school.

Penny taps Simon’s shoulder.

“What now, Pen?” She holds out a white envelope with his name written on it in neat, elegant cursive.

“This fell out of your bag.” Simon frowns, taking it from her hesitantly. He hasn’t seen it before, but he wouldn’t be surprised if it was some letter from his teacher addressed to his father that he shoved to the bottom of his bookbag. His bag was always a disaster of crumpled papers that Penny and Baz teased him relentlessly for. They insisted he organize it, but Simon didn’t really see the point. It was just going to become a mess again.

“Thanks.” Curiously, Simon unfolds the letter, wondering what it might be. He doesn’t remember receiving it at all, so he has no idea what he should expect.

Immediately, he recognizes Baz’s handwriting:

Simon,

I hate you. I hate the way you make me feel, the way you make my heart beat out of my chest and the way you smile at me in a way that makes me feel special. I hate how you’re always there when I need you and will do everything you can to help someone in need. I hate how you have this stupid hero’s complex where you feel like you need to protect everyone in this goddamn school. I hate how you try to hide your pain from me, putting on a brave face. I want to reach out to you, to comfort you, to let you know that it’s ok and you have people who love and care for you; that you aren’t alone.

I don’t know what even drove us to befriend each other Freshman year. We were from completely different universes, but somehow you chipped away at my walls until they crumbled into nothing, and I hate you for it. I hate what the sight of you does to me and I know you will never feel the same.

Simon Snow, you beautiful disaster. How could you be so cruel to make me fall in love with you?

Penny’s looking up at Simon with a curious glance, acting like she isn’t interested when she very much is. Simon doesn’t say anything, just grins widely as he folds the note back up and sets it under his textbook. Penny raises her eyebrow. It’s a skill Simon knows she’s picked up from Baz, but she refuses to admit it.

“You look like Christmas came early. You feeling alright, Simon?”

“Wonderful.”

___________________

Simon corners Baz in the hallway at the end of the day as he’s heading to his car. He bounds up to him, looking like a ray of sunshine as he smiles brightly. Something has him in an outrageously good mood and Baz has no idea what that could be.

Baz, on the other hand, isn’t feeling as good. His teachers assigned him an outrageous amount of homework and he got a low mark on one of his quizzes, even though he knew the material and studied before the test. Baz Pitch was not one for failure, and he felt very embarrassed when Agatha pointed it out to him.

On top of all that, his guilty pleasure love letter to Simon was missing. He hasn’t seen it in two days and he has no idea where it could be, or if it’s in someone else’s hands. Thank god he didn’t sign it. It’s better if nobody knows about his silly crush on Simon.

“Baz,” Simon breathes, his cheeks dusting with red as he stands in front of Baz, looking up through his wild curls. Baz can barely stop his own blush that rises into his cheeks.

“Snow. Need a ride?” Simon looks around.

“Yeah um….” He runs a hand through his curls. “Yeah.”

They walk out to Baz’s car in silence. Usually, Baz is fine with silence between them. It’s always a comforting silence that doesn’t really have a need to be filled, but something about this silence was different. It was thicker, full of a sort of tension Baz couldn’t quite place. Simon seemed to be anxious about something, as if he were trying to find a way to put it into words.  

Simon Snow is shit with words. He’s gotten better over the years, sure. English class did wonders on him, but he did seem to have a hard time annunciating his feelings in a way Baz could understand. After four years of friendship, Baz is proud to say he can usually interpret Simon’s mutterings, but it wasn’t always like that. Middle school was awful for the both of them and Baz was always frustrated with Simon’s incapability to string together sentences. He was short tempered, and it took him a while to finally give Simon a chance to get out what he needed to say.

So he did the same now. He didn’t say anything, didn’t pressure him, didn’t force him to say anything. He let the silence stretch on, letting Simon fill it on his own terms when he was ready

They climb into the car and just as Baz is about to put it in reverse, Simon puts his hands over Baz’s, stopping him from leaving. Baz looks up at him, grey eyes meeting blue. There’s a moment of tension, then Simon pulls his hands away.

“Baz, I—“ Simon stops, furrowing his brow.

“Go on, Snow.”

“It’s just…. I guess…. I just… Ugh.” Simon pulls at his curls in frustration, his face getting redder by the minute.

“It’s ok. Calm down. Take your time.” Simon takes a deep breath.

“It’s just…. I saw your letter.” Baz freezes, going stiff all over.

“What letter?”

“The one you wrote to me? And slipped into my bag?”

Oh no.

_____________

“Shit.” Baz knocks his head against the steering wheel, groaning.

“Look, Simon I'm sorry I—“

“I feel the same.”

“What?” Simon gulps.

“I… I like you too.” Baz scoffs.

“No you don’t,” he says, leaning back in his seat and brushing his charcoal locks out of his eyes. Simon lays a gentle hand on his arm.

“Yes I do, Baz.” Silence fills the car. Simon feels like he can’t breathe as each moment stretches on, the only audible sounds being their heartbeats and breaths.

“I—“ Simon says, averting his gaze as he coughs awkwardly, seeming very uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, it must’ve been a mistake I—“ suddenly, so quickly it happens between one blink and the next, Baz grabs his shirt and pulls Simon to him, planting a firm kiss on his lips. Almost as quickly as he leaned in, Baz pulls away.

But Simon doesn’t let him. He puts his hands on either side of Baz’s face, kissing him with years of pining and desperation. He feels Baz sigh against his lips, bringing his hands up to rest on Simon’s broad shoulders, not daring to move them. Simon threads his fingers through Baz’s hair, marveling at how soft it is. He feels like he’s floating, his heart beating as fast as it can, on the verge of exploding. He doesn’t really mind though. Because he’s kissing Baz. I’m kissing Baz.

Simon pulls away, a grin on his face. His face is so open in that moment, so vulnerable. Baz feels a small smile that’s unbearably soft pull at his own lips.

“I like this version of you, Baz.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I like it when we aren’t friends.”

“Wow that’s really nice—“

“I wanna be your boyfriend,” Simon says, a wide grin on his face. Baz sucks in a breath, his grey eyes searching Simon’s.

“Yes,” he says breathily. Simon grins and leans in for another kiss.

----

“Welbelove this was your doing, wasn’t it?”

“What ever could you be talking about, my dearest Basilton?” she asks innocently. Baz huffs.

“You stole my letter! And gave it to Simon!”

“Oh that? It sounds more of a Penny plot to me.”

“Wellbelove.”

“Don’t get mad at me, Basil. You got the boy, didn’t you?” Baz can practically hear her wiggling her eyebrows at him over the phone. He’s sitting in his car in Simon’s driveway as Simon walks up to his doorstep. He turns around at the last moment, grinning brightly and waving back at Baz. Baz waves back.

“I hate you more than you even know, Wellbelove.”

“Thought so,” she says, hanging up on him. Baz can’t help the smile that crosses his lips.

[riceccakes]

Earth, Wind, and Coffee: Chapter Four Analysis

and now the last chapter of the fic! i really had so much fun writing these analyses so i hope you’ve enjoyed too :))

i’ve got a lot to say about this last chapter too so be prepared for a long one. lets get to it, shall we?

some fun stuff before we start!

before changing the direction of the story, the last chapter of the fic was going to be Chapter 3: The Meeting, A Well Deserved Jab, and a Good Night’s Rest

so, The Meeting was going to happen, korrasami was gonna come back together and instead of the krew outing during this chapter’s A Well Deserved Jab, korrasami was gonna go out on a date. korra still would punch iroh, korra never ‘moved in’ with asami, it was just gonna be a fluffy section. A Good Night’s Rest was actually going to feature hiroshi going to asami’s apartment while korra was over and being like “who the fuck is this” and korra was gonna be upset asami didn’t tell her dad about them (as, in the og timeline, they would be dating at this point) they’d have a convo working this out, a little like how korra said she’d never understand how asami and hiroshi don’t have a great relationship in A Much Needed Conversation. korra would then go to hiroshi’s office and make that whole speech and still ask asami to go the south. this is a v summed up version, one that when i made it, i was happy with. having published what i did, i much enjoy that ending more than this one :)

i wanted a way to show that korra likes asami (obviously, this is a korrasami fic) but of course, asami spent most of this only wishing korra liked her

mako asking out korra was a late edition, one i actually really like. mako’s role in the fic is pretty minor, sorry to those of you who really love him and maybe wanted more from him. however, i am a really big fan of the fact that in lok, even after all the stupid love triangle shit, mako was able to be good friends with korrasami, so i still wanted to capture that. he’s not at all upset when korra turns him down, but rather super happy for the fact that korrasami feel the same way about each other. an even later edition to this point is the bedroom scene when korra asks asami to wait for her, i’ll mention more about this scene later cause i really love it.

and we in gooooo: (i usually try to write these following the sections of the chapter but for this analysis, im gonna go topic by topic within each section)

literary devices (diction, figurative language, etc.):

There have been better days than this one. Days where Korra blows up Asami’s phone with funny Instagram posts she finds while Asami’s at school, days where she invites Mako and Bolin over and the four of them play board games, days where Korra asks if they can go out for a walk and she excitedly explores the area around Asami’s apartment. There have been worse days than this one. Days where Korra won’t get out of bed, days where Korra won’t speak, days where Korra won’t even look at Asami and she has to see that glossed over gaze gawk out the glass window.

back again, just quoting my favorite sections. and this one, yall, this one. the mirrored writing style, the ending with alliteration, how easily it describes a passage of time i mean come on. when i wrote this i was like “yyyyaaaasssss” and i won’t deny it. the “glossed over gaze gawk out the glass window” is obvious in alliteration, one that just sounds so good, it rolls off the tongue. but, there’s actually also another one, one that’s a bit more hidden “she excitedly explores the area around Asami’s apartment” note how these both end the descriptions of korra’s bad/good days respectively, as a sort of way to frame which parts of the sentence correspond with the good days and bad days. now, going onto korra’s days, three examples of good days, three examples of bad days (that’s technically six different days right there, and it doesn’t even have to be in succession.) what i also love about this info into korra’s days is how it shows a passage of time without having to be like “it’s been a few weeks” or “after some time/a while” it doesn’t stick out, at least not to me, it’s not a jarring way to say, “hey, in the story now, time has passed since last chapter!” idk, i just am really proud of this paragraph and i wanted to point it out in its own section :)

Asami will never, ever say she’s happy that the Red Lotus attack happened, but, it’s what brought Korra to her. It’s what brought more friends to her, it’s what brought her to see her father isn’t as great and almighty as she’d grown up to believe. How could she ever thank something so horrible for bringing about all these life changing things in her life?

this sort of, existential section, was something i came up with on the toilet. (tmi? im not gonna apologize tho, this is a behind the scenes explanation of my writing and some of my best writing happens on the toilet ¯\_(ツ)_/¯) any who, i didn’t want to leave any loose ends and, up until this chapter, i don’t really think i showed how asami felt about the attack and the situation and what’s happened after. also, asami being the perfectionist and analyst she is, i know she’d reflect on everything that’s happened to her in the span of about six months (give or take) and even more so, reflect on what’s happened with korra in the time they’ve known each other. it was a bit painful to write this section, it’s that sort of mentality that’s like “some horrible, horrible shit happened, but really, really good things came out of it. so, should i still hate all that horrible stuff or should i just appreciate the good things that came out of it?” (i’ve been debating this for years now with something personal and to this day, i’m not sure. i’m not sure if i’m more thankful for it all happening because of the few good moments it brought or if i wish none of it happened for the chance at some alternate reality of good things happening. anyways, i digress)

Kuvira stays silent for a moment, “When Hiroshi reaches out to you, tell him everything you said to me. Tell him everything you said when we were in your apartment after the presentation. He needs to know how you feel, he needs to know how he’s made you feel for years. Hiroshi can’t change if he doesn’t know what’s wrong and you want him to change, don’t you?”

Asami grips the steering wheel, staring at the red light in front of her. Her foot slowly pulses on and off the break, inching forward, waiting for the signal.

“I do.”

She feels the pit of her stomach churn, wondering if she could ever say all of it to her father. Kuvira isn’t wrong, she wants her father to change, but not in every way. Not in the business sense, not in the ambition sense, but rather, she wants a father, she wants to feel like the man she calls Dad really deserves the title. It pains her to say he hasn’t. The light turns green and Asami’s foot hovers over the gas pedal.

“So then you’ll tell him?”

For just a moment, her Satomobile doesn’t move but with a sharp, deep breath, Asami steps on the pedal. “I will.”

back again with our car metaphor/symbol thing! i really do love this idea of using the Satomobile as a way to show the relationship between hiroshi and asami, and how asami handles that relationship. this is from A Much Needed Conversation, some time after asami’s returned to future industries, calling kuvira in reluctant hope of knowing what her father is doing. they talk about asami telling hiroshi all this important stuff, stuff that asami’s been hesitant to bring up at all. (only after a breaking point did she finally let it out) this section has a mix of it all, diction, metaphor, along with some suspense by using line breaks. 

Her foot slowly pulses on and off the break, inching forward, waiting for the signal. / “I do.” - here’s a good example of suspense. (it continues through the rest of the excerpt) so, here was have asami, absolutely scared shitless, as she always is with her father and this subject of her life in relation to him. except, now with their time apart and what happened with the meeting, asami’s kind of got this “fuck it, whatever” mentality that goes a few different ways. “fuck it, whatever” my dad totally turned on me and was an asshole, i don’t care. “fuck it, whatever” we cut off ties, i can do whatever i want. “fuck it, whatever” i might very well do whatever it takes to get my dad back because i miss him but im also super scared as per usual. “fuck it, whatever” im not the one who needs to do anything to get him back so i won’t even think about it. there’s just a lot for asami to unpack here and in the setting of her father’s legacy, it’s even more for her. 

She feels the pit of her stomach churn...The light turns green and Asami’s foot hovers over the gas pedal. - more suspense. the light is green, green means go, but asami is waiting, thinking, hesitating. this also relates to the line earlier “waiting for the signal” well, this is the signal, the green light means go. but also, kuvira telling asami to tell hiroshi everything is also the signal to go, it’s like the push for asami to do it. she sees the signal, it’s go time, and yet “Asami’s foot hovers over the gas pedal” asami is still nervous, still scared to have this conversation with her father because she just doesn’t know what’s going to happen.

“So then you’ll tell him?” / For just a moment, her Satomobile doesn’t move but with a sharp, deep breath, Asami steps on the pedal. “I will.” - this mirrors just a few lines earlier. when kuvira asks asami to tell hiroshi everything while she’s waiting for the green light, her dialogue has a line break. for dramatic effect purposes, but also to show a sense of firmness. it’s by itself, it doesn’t need to be supported; asami really, truly means this. however here, her dialogue tag is connected to the narration its related to. even while asami confirms she’ll do this, that she’ll talk to her father, it’s hesitant, it takes a moment for her to say yes. 

what i really love is how much can be covered in such few lines. i’m not sure you all saw this when reading, ive always been very into reading/writing analysis, so i’m always looking at everything with a fine tooth comb; in my own writing, it’s no different. if you didn’t see this before, i hope learning it now gives you a different perspective if you ever choose to read my fic again :)

content (typing up loose ends, leaving breadcrumbs, additional info):

lets talk about korra

a lot happens for our girl in this last chapter. i’ll try to be concise, i tend to kind of ramble. i think what’s kind of cool, and i didn’t realize this beforehand, is that theres a speech from korra in each section. in A Well Deserved Jab, we see korra’s first time speaking at the support group meeting and what i really like about this is there’s no real big event that’s happened for her to finally be able to go up there. i feel like there’s always this one, life altering moment in stories when people need to deal with trauma or just work up the courage to do something, but in our case, it’s not like that. it’s the time and the care that’s slowly been working and helping korra for her to feel ready. it’s been a culminating process for her to get to go up there and for whatever reason, korra felt ready. let’s go a little into this speech

we finally learn more about the attack. we learn why korra’s always been picking at her wrists, the memory of the zip ties are still strong and she scratches at hopes of making the feeling go away. we also hear more about korra losing control that night, which in turn made her want to control everything with her life after the event. (lil fun-ish note while we talk about some deep stuff right now, last chapter’s first paragraph, about korra enjoying pour over coffees, was a purposeful choice. when doing pour overs, you have direct and absolute control over the coffee and how you make it, which gives korra a greater sense of comfort, because she knows she’s in charge when doing this.) my favorite part about this whole speech is right before the tail end of it, where korra says “sometimes surprises are better than plans” it was never in her plan to meet someone and find comfort and support and love and grow with it. (my headcanon is that korra just wanted to mull this over alone, sort of like in book four after the canon red lotus attack.) instead, korra met asami and the two clicked and korra could see a light at the end of her tunnel she thought would be pitch black forever. i really enjoyed getting to write this for korra.

korra’s second speech takes place in A Much Needed Conversation. another scene from the fic i wrote beforehand, i think somewhere between finishing chapter two and mulling over the decision to make the fic longer. this was sort of my cathartic, “lets yell at hiroshi for being sucky” moment. a lot of points are brought up here, all of which i believe are valid. it poses the simple, yet ever complicated question of “why?” i’ll get into hiroshi’s response in a later section, but what i’ll highlight about this speech is korra’s statement, “Now, I know that I don’t need to be saying any of this, because Asami can more than hold her own in any conversation, but I am doing this because you are hurting the woman I love, and I will not just let that happen.” its a declaration of love, love that i know is deeper than just romance but also deeper than just friendship. it’s admiration for asami being so strong, admiration for asami being so powerful and smart, korra says more about it in the speech. i tried it make so that korra wasn’t trying to control this situation with asami’s father, but rather, this was korra’s attempt at getting them to try and work something out. korra wants what’s best for asami, she wants her to get everything she wants. korra knows asami wants a better father and the most korra feels she can do is slap hiroshi (with her words) across the face and get him to realize that’s what asami wants.

korra’s third and final speech opens A Good Night’s Rest. we get just a little more about that night, i actually wrote this speech out loud. i just sort of put myself in korra’s place and started talking. my intent with this opening was to give more insight into how korra feels about asami. this is also a call back to the beginning of the chapter, about waking up asami if korra ever needs her. i took this action as a solidifying definition for asami to know “yeah, korra really does love me.” sure, in the last section, korra sort of did say it, but actions still speak louder than words. a lot of this final chapter was just showing how much korra has grown, i think i achieved that.

before we move on, i just wanted to say a lil bit about the bedroom scene where korra asks asami to wait for her. it’s a small confession that i think just says so much. another time here to show that romantic korrasami will happen, but it’s also just insight into korra and her thoughts about romancing asami. she wants it too, so badly that she almost gets into it before she’s ready. did i psych you guys out like asami, who thought she was finally going to kiss korra? it’s all in the lines, “I’m almost there...I know I am, Asami. I’ll be there soon, I need to be better. I need to be better for you.” and now, after thinking about it, i almost wasn’t gonna word it like this. what korra’s saying here is that her progression is only being done so that she can be good for asami, which, i didn’t want to convey. however, sometimes, that’s just how people think; they think, “if i have to do something, i gotta do it for someone else.” and so that’s what i’ve done with korra here, it’s just this mentality that she’s growing out of. it’s okay to have this thought process, good even, but not for every single thing you do. and i wanted korra to know that, which is why i love asami’s response, “I think you’re already great.” it’s just to remind korra, yes you can get better, you will get better. but not for asami, but for yourself, because asami already loves you the way you are.

kuvopal

breadcrumbs; that’s all i’ve really done so far with kuvopal is put lil breadcrumbs everywhere for the people who like the idea of the relationship to grasp at. is that mean of me? maybe, but i really love kuvira and opal as a couple so i wanted to keep hinting and hinting and hopefully getting you readers interested too. kuvopal has been sprinkled in since chapter two and i wanted to leave the readers with just a little ounce of hope

asami’s official introduction with opal heavily involves bolin, enough to the point where the two kiss each other on the cheek. now, of course, after reading the chapter, you know bolin and opal aren’t dating, but i wanted to stress you out a lil bit xD asami is weary of mentioning kuvira, so there’s not much we really get to see about how opal feels. opal may have wanted to talk when asami mentioned kuvira just before korra asked about spring break, but she didn’t. why didn’t she say anything? do you think she’s wanted to talk about kuvira? what about her major, child services and the foster care system, do you think kuvira influenced that, being she essentially was fostered by the beifongs? do you think we’ll ever find answers? *wink*

iroh

so obviously, we don’t like iroh. if there’s anyone in this story who doesn’t get a happy ending or a second chance, it’s him because he’s the worst. i realized we hadn’t seen too much of iroh in the previous chapters and this being the last one, i needed to really show just how not cool iroh is. the soccer game is very clearly an indication of just how conceded and rude he is. after the game, his conversation with asami is bad. he’s being invasive and inconsiderate of asami and he doesn’t care. same with at the restaurant. so, of course i wanted iroh to get his comeuppance and we have that by korra punching him.

going off of this, i didn’t want it to feel like iroh got a one and done kind of deal. he was incredibly awful to asami and his “friends” and i didn’t want this behavior to be taken lightly. so, i chose to make iroh just basically lose everything :) he loses his friends, possibly his job, i just KNOW izumi is disappointed as fuck that he’s acted like this and uncle iroh is rolling over in his grave that someone of his own blood would be like this. i wanted to address iroh in his own category because i just wanted you all to know that he is the only character not getting off easy. i really hope that how iroh’s situation turned out is good, as in, he got what he deserves.

hiroshi

hiroshi was an interesting character to go about in the final chapter. obviously, throughout the fic so far, hiroshi hasn’t been a standout father or boss. if i haven’t said it before, i’ll say it now: i always wanted hiroshi to have a second chance, ie, i wanted hiroshi to try to be better. for one, asami deserves it. she deserves a good parent who’s there for her and isn’t just obsessed with his job and the glory and empire he’s built up for himself. another reason, i believe everyone (within reason, *cough cough* not iroh *cough*) deserves a second chance. at the very least one more try, to be better, and if they’re actively trying, they’re doing better.

so hiroshi gets a bit of a wake up call from not only korra, after she so passionately scolded him in the name of her love for asami, but hiroshi also got one from asami directly. take your pick as to which conversation sparked hiroshi to call her to say goodnight. it’s an effort, and asami even says it herself, that after a while, the juice of it ran out. but kuvira said it too, it’s a start. what im trying to highlight is that no one is perfect and their ways of trying to change themself isn’t going to be perfect either.

and the kicker is hiroshi going to the south, without any other reason than to see asami. hiroshi only ever travels for future industries related business, but here he goes, without kuvira, to the south to see asami. i want to keep highlighting, asami says this is just the start. she hasn’t yet fully forgiven him, but she’s giving him the chance to be forgiven. that’s what i want to make most apparent on the topic of hiroshi and asami’s relationship: hiroshi is not getting off easy. but he’s trying, and in the words of the good place, that is what matters isn’t if people are good or bad, what matters is if they’re trying to be better today than they were yesterday. hiroshi, in this action, coming to the south, is trying to be a better father that day than all the days before. offering up the job offer from tonraq is hiroshi trying to be a better boss that day than the day before. staying in the south to spend real, quality time with his daughter is hiroshi trying to be better that day than every day before that.

it’s all in the trying.

honorable mentions:

in the og timeline, back when korrasami was going to be a confirmed couple in the fic, after returning from the south, asami was going to go to the cafe at one in the morning while korra was working and korra was going to make her an avatar. i liked the full circle aspect at the time but really, i much prefer what i’ve posted over that og timeline.

anything i would’ve wanted to change?

i think, overall, i maybe would’ve wanted to divide chapters up differently. as i continued writing, the three sections definitely could’ve supported themselves as singular chapters. especially this final chapter, which was almost 20k words. but, in the end, i am so proud of this fic and of myself for following through and finishing it.

i lost a bit of steam towards the end of this analysis, i’ve actually had this in my drafts for almost two months. but, i think what i wanted to say, i did, and as always, if you have any comments or questions, or just wanna talk to me, do it ! i love any and all commentary on my writing :)) 

thanks for reading the analysis if you did x

[musette22]

Fanfic Writers Tag Game

I was tagged by @hbalbat and @ixalit in this lovely fanfiction tag game that was devised by the clearly very brilliant @thewaythatwerust, to discuss some of the fics I’ve written over time! Thanks so much, guys! 💖 

I have no idea who has already done this, but I’ll go ahead and tag @paper-storm, @luninosity, @wintersoldier1989​, @bluesimplicity73, @howdoyousleep3, @wayward-lives, @trekchik​ and please feel totally free to ignore! <3

Which of your fics…

* Did you think would get a bigger reaction/audience than it got:

Hmm, maybe Body Politics? Generally speaking I think RPF AUs attract more readers than non-AU, and since everyone adores Political Daddy Chris, I figured this one could’ve done a little but better? Especially since I really like it myself (but then of course, that’s often how it goes isn’t it 😅)

* Got a better reaction than you expected:

Basically all of them! I never in a million years imagined that people would actually enjoy my writing, so every time I get a kudo on a fic I’m like “what, for real??” 🥰 But if I have to pic one, I guess From Brooklyn, With Love, since I wrote that one in one morning while at work and it did pretty well lol. Oh, and also my CAPBB fic from last year, Rare Is This Love (Keep It Covered), because I still can’t believe it did so well alongside the amazing fics from all the amazing authors who also participated in that bang.

* Is your funniest:

You Make My Heart Skip A Beet, I think. I’ve definitely gotten the most comments of people saying it cracked them up on that one! Or alternatively You lift my fucking spirits, bro, although that one is just a drabble. Still thinking of turning it into a proper fic at some point...

* Is your darkest/angstiest:

LOL none of them are particularly angsty. I’m not great with writing angst 😅 But for Stucky, it would probably be Rare Is This Love again, and for Evanstan maybe Closer? Yeah, I think so.

* Is your absolute favourite:

Ugh okay, if I *have* to answer this one, I’ll say it’s There is a Tavern in the Town, because that one allowed me to combine my love for Evanstan and Stucky and it’s not perfect, but it’s very close to my heart. Oh, and also I Really Can't Stay (Baby, It's Cold Outside) because I LOVE co-authoring with my gorgeous wife @paper-storm and I still feel all warm and fuzzy inside whenever I think about this fic 🥰

Honourable mention for Reckless Serenade, since it’s the filthiest thing I’ve ever written and I love it. 

* Is your least favourite:

That’s hard, too lol. I guess maybe Café Rouge, not because I dislike the fic but because it’s Peggy/Angie and I wrote it for a femslash challenge, but I don’t really ship it? Or, I mean, I ship it, but not in the same way I ship Stucky and Evanstan, you know?

* Was the easiest to write:

I guess maybe Strawberries & Cream or Diving In The Deep End, both of which I wrote really quickly because I just had to get those little scenes I had stuck in my head down onto paper!

* Was the hardest to write:

Probably also Café Rouge, because I wasn’t as driven by my passion for the ship as I normally am! That, or Rare Is This Love (again) because I really struggled to make the deadline on that one and that was not fun 😂 

* Have you re-read the most:

That would be my fist ever fic, I've done some things that I shouldn't have done (but I haven't stopped loving you once), because I was terrified it was rubbish and I kept re-reading it to see if I could improve it hahaha. Also (If Paradise Is) Half as Nice, because I think it’s hawt.

* Would you recommend to someone reading your work for the first time:

I did actually recommend There is a Tavern in the Town to one of my uni friends when she found out I wrote fanfiction and wanted to read some of it. In hindsight, maybe I’d recommend Maybe Baby (I'll Have You) now, because that one is non-RPF, more or less PG and kind of cute haha.

* Are you most proud of:

I think I Spy With My Little Eye, just because SO many people have told me how much they love it, and that’s kind of what you write for, isn’t it? And I don’t mean validation necessarily (although that is GREAT lol), but to give other people something they enjoy! 💗

* Has your favourite line/exchange/paragraph (share it):

Finding a favourite bit was literally impossible because all it did was remind me that I’m not all that good at writing 😂 However, I really like this scene from Closer, because I love how happy Sebastian is, and how fond Chris is, and how effortlessly these boys can laugh together, even during the most serious, heartfelt of moments. Since it’s a bit long-ish, I’ll put it under the cut!

*********

Sebastian blinks at Chris a few times, then suddenly sits up straight, grabbing Chris’s hand and prying open his fingers.

There they are. Two rings. That really happened.

His eyes snap back up to Chris’s face, wide and stunned. “You- had these made?”

Chris smiles at him indulgently. “Yes.”

“For us?”

“Yes.”

When the meaning of the gesture finally sinks in, a wave of pure, unadulterated happiness rises up in Sebastian’s chest so fast and fierce and unstoppable that it makes him feel lightheaded again – thought this time for an entirely different reason. He claps a hand over his mouth in a failed attempt to stifle the burst of laughter that escapes past his lips.

“Are you… laughing at me?” Chris asks, narrowing his eyes in suspicion, but he mostly seems amused.

Sebastian’s eyes grow even wider. “No,” he says firmly. “Fuck, Chris, I’m sorry.” He barks out another joyful laugh, unable to stop now that he’s started. “Sorry, sorry, I’m not laughing at you, I swear,” he hiccups, shaking his head from side to side and smiling like a lunatic. “I’m just so fuckin’ happy.”

“Oh, thank god,” Chris exclaims dramatically, slapping a hand over his heart. “So in that case, d’you think there’s any chance I could maybe get an answer at some point?” He pulls a face. “I mean, it may have escaped your notice, but I actually just made a heartfelt speech, declaring my undying love for you and asking you to be mine forever. But, you know, I can see how you could’ve missed that bit, it’s not like I poured my heart and soul into–”

Sebastian surges forward and cuts off Chris’s rambling by catching his still moving lips in a searing kiss.

[jdramione]

My 2nd Story Rec:  Tripwires by Mandarou @end-o-the-line https://archiveofourown.org/works/7262188/chapters/16488682

I read Tripwires a few years ago for the first time and I’m positive that in the process of reading this story, something in my chest cracked completely in half and I was left... broken.  

This story captivates me in ALL the ways.  I just finished a re-read of it for the billionth time, and again, I’m just absolutely moved by it.  The story is deep and incredibly moving.   There are scenes within this story that leave me brokenhearted and wrecked.  I feel every single thing that Steve feels, and the way this author writes truth and emotion and angst - few writers can even begin to compare.  

This story is one of those that just feels... more.  You, the reader, are along for an emotionally angsty ride that far surpasses words on a page.  In many ways, this story is just... everything to me.   With every new story I find and give a chance to, this is one that gobsmacked me the first time I read it.  I think I walked around in an emotional mess for days after I read the last line.  Broken, put together, laid out bare.  It did all of those things to me and more.  How?  How does an author incapsulate these things and make them flesh?  Reading this story puts you in this magical world of angsty storytelling perfection that you could ever hope to find, and when it takes you there - those places, that are deep within and hurtful and painful and it just sinks its teeth into you and you can’t help but go - yes, thank you god, finally, someone has managed to put feelings into words and express these things I’ve never managed to figure out within myself but here they are and I’m staring at them and I can barely breathe.   It leaves you breathless for more.   And still, I’m not even talking about the sex scenes.  Which are epic in all proportions, sexy, perfect, humbling.  MORE.   There is this one poignant moment, and don’t ask me where because I’m gonna be vague and the last amount of spoiler-y as one can be when making a list of favorite moments.  But there is this moment where Steve slides down a door, to his butt, and is just torn up (as am I EVERY TIME I read this tiny moment) and Bucky, cool as you can be, as present as one can be fully in love but remaining arm-length apart.  And they both press the side fo their faces to the wall looking at each other, talking to each other quietly.  And it feels so big, the emotion.  It fucking hurts.   "You’re thinking too. hard, Stevie.”  -- Fucking kills me.  Breaks my goddamn heart. “Howard was my friend,” Barnes whispered. “No words will ever be enough.” -- I’m dead.  Broken. WHY is Bucky humming the HOTTEST THING EVER in this world?  How did I never find humming so sexy in any other fic?  Bucky hums through this story and it’s beautiful and sexy and so RIGHT and in character that it leaves me melting into romantic goo every single time.  And it’s literal “humming.”  I recognize the ridiculousness of this paragraph.  But WHY does it do all the things to me? I HATED Clint the first time I read it.  And then I loved him so fucking much.  And he broke my heart.  Never have I ever read Clint characterized exactly like he is in this fic.  I understand him, I get it.  But he breaks my heart.  And then I’m so glad he’s there for Bucky.  It’s such a mixed box of feelings.  The moment where Tony actually walks Clint down to his motorcycle - why does this little thing ruin me?  I think it’s because you know so much that Clint is so angry on Bucky’s behalf, and yet there is Tony, in the wrong, and knowing he’s in the wrong, but goes down to shake his hand goodbye.  There is respect there, and I would like to think still love between them all.  But everything from “Mercy” on left me laying on the ground in the middle of the road, dead. That scene.  I won’t even go into it.  Read this fic you guys.  OMG.  I could hardly read I was sobbing so much.  In my bedroom, on my computer, like a little child with a broken heart, sobbing.  How did this author do this to me?  And thank you so much.   The rooftop scene with the cigarette.  God, the characterization here.  Bucky understands Steve so deeply.  And Steve, desperately attempting to grasp onto his feelings, to figure out his anger, and grief, and heartbreak, and love.  There is so much to unpack, and the author does it one shirt at a time out of the suitcase.  Or rather, I guess the metaphor works better if instead of “unpacking” the reader is “packing” one shirt at a time, until the suitcase is full, like your heart, like your mind, and everything clicks and puzzles together and makes sense.  And it’s not all perfect and right, but it will be.  Always and Forever. I think I need a tattoo of it, I think.  OMG.

I truly did not expect vulnerable Tony.  And he’s vulnerable in a completely different way than Steve.  Steve is heartbroken, and that makes him vulnerable.  Bucky is protecting himself, vulnerable that way, and yet so strong.  But Tony, probably the oldest in age?  No, Bucky would be oldest.  But in all the ways, the characterization of Tony in this story makes me feel he is the young one.  I love how he and Bucky are together.  Tony and Steve - they make sense.  Steve and Bucky, though.  There’s something truly precious there. It took me a while to understand Bucky, and when I finally did, it was like I’d been hit over the head with a club.  Like a stone dropped in a well, and I felt it go through me.  Terrible metaphors - but it’s so heartbreaking... it’s so sad.  There is such... loss.   “Bucky would always choose Steve. But Steve . . . Steve would always choose the right thing.  So Bucky had to have a buffer.” - That’s it in a nutshell.  Kills me dead.  The insight is so spot on, makes so much sense, and is heartbreakingly accurate.

“A whole year.”  Kills me every time, and I cry with Steve here.  Every time. The betrayal of protection and assuming.  That pretty much sums up everything that hurt me so much, so deeply, in this story.  On all sides.   “Check him,” Bucky was shouting. “I hurt him. I know I hurt him. I had to hurt him.”  Dead. The moment of Steve’s “Wow.”  And then the cow.  Thank the fuck.  And also, OMG.  I was there.  Hanging onto every single word that Steve felt.  Forced outside, not knowing why he went outside.  Laying his head on Bucky’s knee.  I could read this scene over and over, and it’s perfect.  It’s just... sigh-worthy, cry-worthy, perfect. “Steve’s going to fall apart.” -- This scene read SO differently after the first time and makes me cry when I understand what is going through Bucky’s mind here.  I ADORE how the writer did this so incredibly well.  I have to know - was this scene planned ahead of time, or was it an afterthought and reference back to?  This scene, during a re-read, is just... everything.  This is where it all goes wrong.  The scene that you think is taking shape is not at all what is happening, and it’s just genius, writing of epic proportions and I just can’t even with it.  But it’s heartbreaking and then it’s heartbreaking, which feels worse - way worse in the end.  Mercy leaves me blubbering.  It’s my official breaking point in all of this fic.

I could truly go on.  And on and on.  I don’t know how this skillful writer put this story together.  Somehow, despite the heartbreak and the angst, and the... deep emotional and vulnerable shit all over the place that makes you sink and feel and need.... despite that - it’s funny in parts.  And so, so romantic.  Gentle caress, soft kisses, longing stares.  It’s a complete package, all wrapped up.  And few fics have ever taken me on the emotional journey that this story did.   What leaves me so gobsmacked is how I start the team feeling the utmost grief for all that is Steve.  And somewhere by the end, while I’m still feeling that same grief and heartbreak for Steve, Bucky tugs at my heart even worse.  His easy acceptance of “I love you always and forever, despite everything, forever, even if I can’t have you all to myself, I will always love you, even if you won’t love me back as much as I love you - and Steve just doesn’t understand and Bucky loves that part of him too.”  Just... HOW.  Stunning.  Brilliant.  Brave.  Hard.  Breathtaking.  Heartbreaking.  

It’s just MORE.  More than others.  More than maybe even itself.

It’s one of those stories that I have to have repeated inner debates on whether or not to search out a new fic or just enjoy immersing myself yet again into this visceral and lush world, where everything just fits, like the perfect puzzle piece. It all is described in such detail, you can practically taste the air, and the characters feel foundational in a way most stories lack because they can’t see them so wholeheartedly, in both their strengths as well as their weaknesses.  

To me, this is a core fic.  If you want a story that completely fleshes out ALL the characters, plot, and storyline - this is the one for you.  It’s angsty, so much so that one physically aches for these characters, but in that angst, it’s so gorgeously done that despite how much it hurts, you need more.

What inspires me to write?  Stories like this one, where I can live and breathe these characters in a world that was created exactly and perfectly for them.

If you have read it - let me know I’m not alone in my obsession.  If you haven’t, go READ this - including the INCREDIBLE timeline part 2 and then get back to me.  I need to fan-girl a bit on some of these authors, and need some friends who are along with me for the ride. At some point, I’ll figure out how to archive my story recs together.  But I want to give each rec it’s moment to begin with.  

[kyber-kisses]

Sleep Demons

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: sleep paralysis, nightmares, cursing. That good ol angst and fluff

Summary: Being a hunter, nightmares are just another part of the gig, the only problem? The readers are worst than most.

A/n: Once again, I’m throwing another Dean comfort!fic at you. (Try and stop me.) anyways, hope you guys enjoy and my SPN taglist is still open! I also based this off my own experience with sleep paralysis.

Nightmares were the bane of your existence.

You would think that being a hunter for so long that you wouldn’t be afraid of anything. You had seen everything from ghosts to the very devil himself. . . So what exactly was left to be afraid of? You would have thought the answer would be simple, but it wasn’t. It was about as long and complicated as the life itself.

As a life long hunter the days can easily blur together, and many times it can feel like you haven’t slept for days, but when sleep did come it was rarely ever relaxing. That was when the nightmares replaced the horrors of the waking hours, weaseling their way into every crack and crevice of your mind and paralyzing you with fear. . . Literally.

Your nightmares were worst than what most people had. They were twisted and warped and strong enough to partially make it into your conscious. Most of them were about people you had failed, people you had lost- and then there were the ones about people you were afraid to lose. Like Sam and Dean.

But the absolute worst ones were the sleep paralysis demons that came much too often. It was usually the same shadowy figure sitting at the edge of your bed when it happened. You had done some research on it when sleep didn’t come at all only to find out that it was the concoction of your body waking up but your brain still in dreaming mode, resulting in your nightmares being projected into the real world.

The end result was that the nightmares disrupted your sleep cycle and tried to jerk you out of it early, leaving your body in lock down mode while you were fully conscious. You had lost count of how many times you found yourself paralyzed in your bed. Sometimes you would even try to scream but nothing happened. The noise unable to escape your throat.

You of course didn’t tell the brothers of your problem. . . Especially Dean. He could usually read you like an open book but you tried hard to keep this hidden. You were a hunter. Hunters didn’t get scared. You didn’t need anyone’s judgment- so you suffered in silence.

And that’s the way it stayed for a very long time.

*. *. *. *. *. *.

“Y/N?. . . Y/N!” Dean sighed, his voice raising as he snapped his fingers in front of your face, snapping you out of your zoned out state. He had been talking to you for the past five minutes but only now noticed your lack of attention.

Blinking out of your thoughts, you looked across the table at Dean, finding his face screwed up in concern. “What?”

“I’ve been talking to you for the last five minutes- what the hell is going on with you?”

Shit. He was on to you. He knew something was up. Quick, feed him a lie.

“I’m fine! Just thinking about the case.”

At that you watched Deans face fall further, eyes filling up even more with concern. “Y/N we aren’t working a case. Now tell me the truth.”

In truth Dean had been concerned about you for awhile now. The bags under your eyes were there more often than not and this wasn’t the first time you had zoned out. He just didn’t know what was wrong specifically.

“Dean, I’m fine!”

The older Winchester let out a deep sigh, crossing his arms over the table as he leaned forward. “You’re sitting here drinking coffee at 11:30 at night. Sweetheart that ain’t fine.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. “I’m just. . . So into this research. It’s a real attention grabber. Didn’t want to pass out.”

The hunter across from you rolled his eyes, clearly not taking the bait. “Well hate to burst your bubble there but that’s decaf.”

“Sam-“ you grumbled in annoyance, shoving the useless drink away from you along with your book. This whole conversation was turning into a train wreck. “I’m gonna kill him.”

The faint trances of a smile crossed Deans face, even if only for a moment. “Please don’t. Sure he’s annoying at times but he’s actually a decent brother.”

He was hoping to at least get a small smile out of you. . . But nothing came. Rolling your shoulders you gave him one last look before pushing yourself out of your seat. There was no point sitting here if you were eventually going to fall asleep. Plus, you really wanted to avoid telling Dean the truth. You didn’t need to burden him with more problems.

“I’m going to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.” You yawned, already dreading the coming hours. “Good night, Dean.”

You didn’t even give him a chance to answer before you were stepping out of the library and down the dim hallway towards your room, leaving Dean in silence as he watched you go, expression still heavy with concern. He wanted to run after you, make sure you were okay- but he didn’t want to pester you, not when you looked so tired. He didn’t need to annoy you. . . Especially not at this hour.

It was maybe five minutes later that Sam strode in, claiming your now vacant seat as his own, only to find his brother staring off into the distance, deep in thought.

“Dude, you okay?” He paused, seeing he had yet to catch his attention. “Dean!”

“Hmm?”

“What the hell were you thinking about? You were totally zoned out.” Leaning back in the wooden chair, he folded his arms, waiting patiently for an answer.

“Has Y/N seemed off to you lately? Like not her normal self?

There was a pause from the younger Winchester before he answered. “I mean, she has seemed more tired lately, but that’s about it. Why?”

Dean chewed on the inside of his cheek, trying to decipher the problem at hand. He missed the usual you. The vibrant and energetic you. Now that he had come to think of it, he hadn’t seen that part of you in a long time. You tried to act like your usual self but Dean suddenly realized there was a tint to it. What he and Sam had been seeing these past few months was just an act.

“God, I’m such an idiot-“ he sighed, head falling forward into his hands at the realization. 

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Y/N! What else?” He half shouted, eyes darting back to the door to makes sure you weren’t listening in. “I mean, Ive been worrying about her for awhile now, but I just-.” he took a deep breath. “ Shes struggling with something.”

“Struggling with what?”

“Hell if I know!” Dean sighed, throwing his hands up. “I just tried asking her and she shut me down.”

“Then go talk to her.” Sam tried, seeing clearly that his brother wanted nothing more than to help you. Dean was always looking out for you, even if you didn’t always realize it.

“She went to bed. . . I’ll have to try talking to her in the morning.”

Sam tapped out around an hour later, going off to bed without a word, leaving Dean in a lonely silence. He was only half paying attention to the work he was doing, his eyes having gone over the same paragraph several times but not processing any of it.

It wasn’t until the clock on the opposite wall read 1:30 that he knew he had to surrender and give up. Maybe if he tried he could still squeeze in his average four hours of sleep before he had to get up and get back to work. Maybe it would help get his mind running again.

Peeling himself out of his seat and slightly stretching, Dean set off towards his own room, turning off the many lights that were still on as he went. The silence becoming almost deafening without the buzz of electricity.

It wasn’t until he was reaching for the handle of his own door that the silence was broken, a crash echoing down the hallway from the direction of your room and making him pause. Before he could register his own movements he was walking down the hall. He wasn’t sure if it was curiosity or worry that was pulling him along. Maybe it was both.

The hunter side of him wanted to throw open your door and burst in, but he kept himself calm, raising his hand to rap his knuckles against the door softly. “Y/N?” He paused, only twisting the knob a few seconds later when he didn’t get any sort of response.

He mostly expected to see you tucked under the covers and sound asleep, but instead he was met with a totally different sight.

You had your back pressed firmly into your headboard, knees tucked against you tightly while your hands were planted firmly against the headboard, almost like you had scrambled back in terror. Your eyes wide and glossed over with fear, tear stained cheeks a rosy red.

“Woah, hey. You okay?” His tone rushed as he stepped over the threshold, eyebrows knitting together in concern. He had never seen you like this and it made his stomach drop.

“Just-just a nightmare.” You panted, dragging a shaky hand down your face. “I’m sorry.”

You didn’t want to annoy him anymore than you probably already had. He needed his sleep too and now your stupid little problem had stopped him from that. You should have known this would happen sooner or later. If you had just put your damn laptop on your desk instead of leaving it on the bed, then you never would have kicked it off when you had snapped out of your paralysis.

“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t need to apologize.” He breathed, “I get em too.” kneeling down, he picked your laptop up from the ground, setting it on your side table. Nightmares. He should have known. God, now he really did feel stupid.

“You- you can go back to bed. I’m fine.” You stuttered, looping your arms around your knees in hopes of finding some sort of comfort.

“Y/N, you’re shaking. That’s not fine. Now tell me what’s going on.”

Slowly he lowered himself to sit on the edge of your bed, watching you intently and giving all of his attention over to you. He wanted to help. He needed to help.

“I’m sorry if I woke you up. I didn’t mean to.”

“I wasn’t asleep. . . Plus I don’t sleep much as it is. Like I said, you’re not the only one who gets nightmares.”

“Oh.” You say in a lame response, looking down at your hands. You had been clenching them so hard that there were now crescent shaped divots in the skin of your palms. “I think mine can out beat yours though.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

You couldn’t bring yourself to look up at him. He was probably giving you some sort of pitiful look. “Not really. But I know that if I don’t you’ll just keep worrying about me.”

“I’m always worrying about you.” He swallowed, “ain’t nothing new there.”

“As a hunter I thought I wasn’t supposed to be afraid of anything.” You explained, tugging your comforter back over your tucked in legs. “Yet somehow damn nightmares are the thing that is tearing me apart. I think mine are worst than most.”

“Why do you think that?”

Letting out another sigh, you finally looked up, eyes locking with his jade ones. He looked concerned. He looked sad. “The sleep demons. The paralysis. They used to be rare but now it happens almost nightly.”

“I’m sorry, sleep demons?” His tone slightly raising in surprise. He wasn’t expecting to hear that. Hell, he didn’t exactly know what you were talking about.

You let out a soft hum, nodding your head in defeat. “They’re hallucinations linked to sleep paralysis. It occurs when a person is jolted awake in the middle of dreaming.” You paused, trying to find the best way of explaining it. “Basically you wake up - but your brain is still dreaming, and it projects your nightmares into the real world.”

Dean was silent for a moment, taking in the information slowly. You had been dealing with this by yourself? Alone? Why didn’t you come to him or Sam?

 “Why didn’t you tell us? We could have helped you sooner.”

“Didn’t want to bother you- plus, I hate even thinking about it, Dean. Everything about it is terrifying.”

Chewing on the inside of his lip, Dean dared to venture further into the conversation. If he wanted to help you, he needed more answers. “You could never bother me. I need you to know that.” He paused. “Now what is this sleep paralysis or whatever like?”

There was a stretch of silence from your end before you answered. “Awful. In every sense of the word. The first thing I usually see when I wake up is the same shadowy figure sitting on the end of my bed. I don’t know who or what it is, all I know is that it’s a concoction that my head made up. Maybe it’s how I envision fear, I don’t know.” You shrugged. “And when it happens I can’t move. I can’t blink. I sometimes try to scream but nothing comes out. Sometimes it lasts a few seconds. Sometimes a few minutes. And the whole time I just have fear coursing through me. It’s basically like starting a dream and waking up in the middle of it.”

“Y/N, you should have come to me! You shouldn’t have to suffer alone like that!” Dean let out a sigh, giving you one of his defeated looks that made your heart break in two.

He couldn’t imagine going through what you did on a nightly basis. Being awake and not being able to move? Not having anyone to help you? Sure, he had nightmares but those were nothing like this. They were usually about losing you or Sam. . . Or about the people he had failed to save.

“I’m sorry- I just-“ you panted, unable to form words as tears formed in your eyes. You were so tired, and still so scared. Your own mind would be the thing that killed you if this kept going.

“Hey, hey it’s okay.” Dean hurried, shifting so he could pull you into him, his arms wrapping around you to rub soothing circles on your back, almost instantly calming you. “It’s alright. I got you.”

You couldn’t help it that you were practically clinging to him like a life line. He radiated safety and comfort in way that nothing else did. Resting your forehead against his shoulder, you inhaled. He still smelled like cheap motel soap and something distinctly himself. It was calming. You almost didn’t notice that one of his hands had gone to cradle the back of your head, or that his cheek was pressed to your temple. he was just that gentle.

Dean Winchester. Both soft as cotton and tough as nails. That was one of the reasons why he was so dear to you. . . Along with everything else that made him him.

“Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me, Y/N. I’ll always be here if you need me.” He muttered, pulling back just enough to press a kiss to your head.

“You can go to bed. I’ll be fine on my own.”

“Yeah, that’s not happening.” He gave you a soft grin as he toed off his shoes, taking up the empty portion of your bed, and hooking his arm around you, pulling you close. “I ain’t leavin you. Not now. Not ever. Sometimes even the monster hunter needs to feel safe.”

You should have resisted. Told the stubborn man to go back to his own room and leave this all in the past. . . But he felt so safe and warm. He was like a magnet and all you could do was let him pull you in, securing you in his hold.

“Also, just so you know- whenever I get a nightmare I’m coming and crawling into your bed.” Dean mused, nuzzling into your shoulder. “You just signed a contract.”

and that is exactly what happened. Because for almost every night after the first, You and Dean helped fend off each others nightmares. When you woke up frozen in fear, Dean was there besides you reminding you that you were safe until eventually the shadows slipped away. As for Dean, only reality was the woman held fast in his arms.

End.

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