#i wrote this when i was supposed to be working

[xinganhao]

a peek into the process that was making catch you when i can.

(1) vernon x rockstar!reader was largely unnamed for the most part. i only figured that it at least deserves a title when i revamped the series masterlist, but the answer was pretty instant.

i start (and end) the story with vernon and reader saying a variation of 'catch you when i can', which is established in part one as "something exchanged as often as 'i love you'." i feel like it captures the struggles of a long-distance relationship very well. it's also a shameless reference to the iconic leonardo di caprio and tom hanks film lol:

(2) this wasn't supposed to be a series, honestly. part two was my attempt to cope with svt's new york shows, and i was convinced that i would end it with the cliffhanger of rockstar!reader accidentally posting vernon on her main instagram. but the verse just wouldn't let me go— hence, the full-blown smau.

(3) the 'vernhow' style headcanons for part three are probably my favorite style of headcanons not only for this series, but also my entire blog. getting to play around with it was so fun. buried in it is the crux of what would eventually be the ending: "Everybody now knows that you, Chwe Hansol, have a girlfriend. Someone you want so bad that you'll go back on all the things you believe."

(4) when i first referenced john mayer's Edge of Desire in part three, i wasn't quite thinking of his 2010 hollywood bowl performance just yet.

i revisited it when i was facing intense writer's block for the final chapter and everything flowed easily after that. part five is best read with that version of the song playing (linked as suggested listening lol) because i wrote nearly the entire thing while looping the track.

↳ this part in the song reminded me of how part four's headcanons were entirely about vernon's definition of 'fight', and how— despite his willingness to keep going with the relationship— it's ultimately a two-way street. it doesn't matter how much one tries. if, at the end of the day, the two of you aren't in it together? then the relationship will end. plain, simple, harsh.

↳ in the first part, the headcanons touch on vernon not being a big believer in "long-distance relationships or relationships in general," which all completely change after he starts dating reader. the real clincher, though, is how vernon spends much of part five being a 'terrible' ex: unable to go without contact, still supportive as ever. as the song goes: he's scared you'll forget about him.

(5) part five intentionally uses the first nine or so panels from an outsider's perspective. i wanted to really drive home the struggle of their public relationship and how it might have taken its toll/strain on the couple. it's what eventually inspired the brief headcanons, ala-he said, she said.

(6) i almost made vernon specifically reference romcoms with airport reunions in the finale, but i didn't want to isolate readers who might have not seen said films lol. the movies that would have been referenced were love actually (2003) and serendipity (2001).

(7) my top three panels in no particular order are—

was obsessed with a panicked vernon going "my gorgeous princess wife babygirl" + very characteristic of him to suddenly swoon when one of his favorite bands is brought up + something about vernon wanting a do-over on his 'hard launch' is just. #real.

(8) Black Eye is first mentioned in a part two headcanon where reader performs it in a speakeasy in front of vernon. it's posed as the moment that vernon realized he might he in love.

this makes it all the more cruel how reader unwittingly jokes that Black Eye is a breakup song in part five. i chose to conclude the series on the track's anniversary for no other reason than me needing a specific deadline to wrap stuff up lol.

(8.1) i think i do recall having some of Black Eye bleed into the work, which might be evident in the following lyrics & consequent story parallels:

running 'round the whole city looking for someone -> ties in to part two, where the headcanons are based on how vernon and reader feel about new york city i can't stand the quiet/is anyone out there? is anyone out there? -> best encapsulated in how vernon continues to contact reader post-break up (also parallels mayer's 'i'm scared you'll forget about me') i'm on my worst behavior, don't stop me now -> in part four, vernon gets into a physical altercation with the press in defense of reader and he's adamant that he did the right thing i'm okay, i'll just let it burn around me -> best captures vernon in part five + another parallel to mayer, where a part in the song goes 'i'm just about to set fire to everything i see'

(9) ending this with what i anticipate to be part of the faqs, post-main story: why did vernon and reader break up just to get back together again?

the long answer: because people are messy. because we think we know best— for ourselves, for others— and so we act on those impulses in the name of self-preservation, or care, or whatever noble thing you want to call it. people are complex and complicated, and with that comes regret, romance, and everything in between.

"they should have just worked it out!" they did try. it's human nature to feel slighted when things don't work out in your favor. there's only so much tenacity that a person can have before they're cursing the universe for the cards they're dealt, so can vernon/reader really be blamed for fraying?

"the breakup was unnecessary!" i could argue that it isn't. say some bs about it being very necessary, in fact, for character development, plot progression (lol), 'not realizing what you have until it's gone'. the works. but admittedly? i agree.

we— vernon and reader included— make questionable choices. whether or not we double down, move on, or circle back is an entirely different story in itself. vernon and reader found their way back; not all of us are as lucky. but some of us can be, some of us have been, and that was enough for me to trust that the story would sail.

the knowledge that, at the end of the day, the love that 'wins' is the one that makes the work worth it.

the short answer: i just really wanted them to have a happy ending. god knows they deserve it.

thank you for reading and enjoying this little story! it was mine once, but it's all yours now. ❥

catch you when i can (vernon x reader)

⤿ a five-part series charting vernon's relationship with you, an international rockstar.

𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 —

✮ part one, the one with the origin story. ✮ part two, the one where vernon tours in your city. ✮ part three, the one where you go public. ✮ part four, the one about fighting. ✮ part five, the one where a choice has to be made.

ⓘ international rockstar!f!reader, long distance relationship, established relationship, use of pet names. fluff, angst. cussing.

annotations for the main verse.

𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐒 —

there's nothing here yet! :)

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 —

with love, kae ✎ i adore this verse so, so much that asks (i.e. drabbles, headcanons, smaus) for it will be perpetually open, regardless of whether or not my main requests are open. as always, this wouldn't have come to light without the anon who asked for it in the first place! i'm eternally indebted.

thank you for reading catch you when i can. <3

› scroll through all my work ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ my masterlist | @xinganhao

[winwintea]

mutual affection

PAIRING ↬ physics student!park jisung x fem!reader

TAGS ↬ FLUFF!!! the cheese is so cheesing here, way too many physics puns, you might cringe but here it is, i love park jisung, love love love him

SUMMARY ↬ sometimes, love isn’t theoretical—it’s proven, one note at a time.

WORD COUNT ↬ 2.6k words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ↬ wow i’m a nerd. MEERRY CHRISTMAS @polarisjisung THIS ONE IS FOR YOU MY LOVE <33

PLAYLIST ↬ rhinestone eyes - gorillaz; swan - miyeon; song 2 - blur; missing you - ftisland;

JISUNG TAPPED HIS PEN AGAINST HIS NOTEBOOK RHYTHMICALLY,

pretending to take notes as the professor droned on about Schrödinger's Equation. It wasn’t that he disliked quantum mechanics—he loved it—but today, the equations felt heavier than usual. His eyes wandered to the person sitting next to him—you.

You were furiously scribbling in your notebook, not writing notes but...drawing? Jisung squinted. Was that a...cat? No, two cats. One inside a box labeled "alive" and the other "dead." He felt a grin tugging at his lips before he could stop himself.

A faint chuckle escaped, and he ducked his head, mortified, as you glanced his way. He was sure he’d blown his cover—who laughs during a physics lecture? But instead of being annoyed, your lips began to form a small smirk.

“Like what you see?” you whispered, sliding your notebook slightly closer to him.

Jisung blinked. Was this a test? A joke? Chenle said he always had trouble talking to women. Something about playing too much League and not touching grass. But it wasn’t his fault! And Chenle was wrong. He did touch grass. He hesitated but gave you an awkward nod, his brain scrambling for something to say. “It’s, uh... creative. Schrödinger would be impressed.”

You snorted softly, flipping the notebook his way completely. Beneath the doodle, you wrote:

"Your turn."

Jisung froze. Your turn? What was he supposed to draw? He glanced back at you, but you were already watching the professor again, feigning disinterest, though the corner of your mouth continued to twitch with amusement.

Heart pounding, Jisung picked up his pen. Drawing wasn’t exactly his forte, but he couldn’t just pass up the challenge. He quickly sketched a stick figure version of himself, complete with messy hair and oversized glasses, holding a comically oversized Geiger counter pointed at the box.

Next to the drawing, he added:

“Should I open it or...?”

He slid the notebook back your way, staring straight ahead, willing himself not to blush. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw you lean over to inspect his work. There was a brief pause, and then—you laughed. Not just a quiet chuckle but an actual laugh, soft and melodic.

“That’s not bad,” you whispered, your tone teasing. “Stick figures are an underrated art form.”

Jisung risked a glance your way, only to find you grinning at him, eyes bright with amusement. For the first time, he smiled back without overthinking it.

As the lecture continued, neither of you paid much attention to the professor. Instead, your notebook became the canvas for the beginning of a tradition—tiny doodles, puns, and inside jokes that somehow made quantum mechanics infinitely more interesting.

Jisung couldn’t explain it, but as he scribbled out a little equation to accompany his next doodle, he felt a strange, unfamiliar excitement bubbling in his chest. For the first time, class didn’t feel so dull anymore.

It started with Schrödinger’s cat, but it didn’t stop there. For the next lecture, Jisung was prepared. He had a small stack of sticky notes tucked into his notebook, ready for whatever you might throw at him.

You were already scribbling something when he slid into his seat. The professor began discussing wave-particle duality, but Jisung’s focus was on the tiny folded note you flicked onto his desk.

He cautiously unfolded it. Written in neat handwriting was:

“Are you made of copper and tellurium? Because you’re Cu-Te.”

Jisung nearly choked on air, covering his mouth to stifle a laugh. He could feel the tips of his ears heating up as he turned to look at you. You were staring straight ahead, pen twirling between your fingers, but your smirk gave you away.

He scribbled back quickly:

“Are you a black hole? Because you’ve got some serious pull.”

You took the note, bit your lip to keep from laughing, and scribbled something before passing it back.

“Careful, Park. You might reach escape velocity at this rate.”

For the rest of the lecture, neither of you could keep straight faces. Jisung felt lighter than he had in weeks.

Two lectures later, during a painfully long discussion on thermodynamic entropy, Jisung felt like his brain was melting. Next to him, you seemed to be having the same struggle.

He noticed you sketching again, your tongue sticking out slightly in concentration. A few minutes later, you nudged his elbow and slid a folded scrap paper toward him.

He opened it to find an absolutely ridiculous cartoon: a dramatic black hole with wild hair and glasses that looked suspiciously like the professor’s. Around it, little stick figures were being sucked into the gravitational pull, textbooks flying everywhere.

At the bottom, you’d scrawled:

“Entropy? More like ENTRAP-Y.”

Jisung clamped a hand over his mouth, shoulders shaking as he tried (and failed) to contain his laughter. The professor paused, eyes squinting at the two of you, and Jisung froze in shock.

When the professor turned back to the whiteboard, Jisung quickly scribbled a response:

“I think I just lost three brain cells to this singularity.”

You snorted quietly, and for the rest of the class, both of you avoided eye contact to prevent another laughing fit.

It wasn’t always jokes. At some point, the notes started to change.

One afternoon, after a particularly rough group presentation where Jisung stumbled over his words more than once, he slumped into his usual seat next to you, clutching his notebook like a shield.

You didn’t say anything at first, just slid a folded piece of paper onto his desk.

“You did great today. Public speaking is the worst, but you made your point, and honestly, half the class was lost after the second slide anyway.”

Jisung stared at the note for a long moment before writing back.

“Thanks. I always feel like I’m messing up. Group projects make it ten times worse because I’m scared I’ll let everyone down.”

You read it, your expression softening before you wrote back:

“I get that. But hey, if we ever have to do a project together, I’ll handle the talking, and you can handle the math. Deal?”

Jisung’s chest felt warm in a way he couldn’t quite describe.

“Deal.”

It was late in the semester, the kind of day where the sunlight streamed through the classroom windows just right, making everything feel a little softer. The professor was lecturing about particle accelerators, and Jisung was genuinely trying to focus—until he noticed you scribbling on a slip of paper.

You passed it to him without looking up.

“If you could work anywhere in the world, where would it be?”

Jisung hesitated. No one had ever asked him that before—not seriously, anyway.

“NASA, probably. Ever since I was a kid, I’ve had this strange obsession with space. It feels like there’s so much to discover, you know?”

You grinned when you read his response.

“That’s so cool. I’d want to be there too. Maybe one day we’ll run into each other in the cafeteria, arguing about quarks over sandwiches.”

Jisung smiled, his heart doing this weird fluttery thing that he couldn’t quite explain.

“I’d argue that up quarks are superior, but I’d let you win. Probably.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, scribbled something back, and slid the note over.

“You’d let me win? Park Jisung, are you challenging me to a quark debate?”

For the rest of class, Jisung couldn’t stop smiling.

Each note became a little window into your world and a bridge into his. It wasn’t just the jokes or the sketches—it was the little truths tucked between the lines. And every time he unfolded a piece of paper from you, Jisung felt a little less like an awkward physics student and a little more like…someone special.

Jisung’s head was spinning as he shoved his notebook into his backpack. The lecture had just ended, and while most of the class was still debating the finer points of entropy, his focus was on the small scrap of paper tucked between the pages of his notes.

It wasn’t supposed to leave his bag. It was just…a silly thought he’d scribbled down late at night when he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

But as he hurried to pack up, the folded note slipped loose and landed on your desk.

He didn’t notice until he was halfway out the door.

You were still sitting, absently flipping through your notes, when your gaze fell on the scrap of paper. You picked it up and unfolded it, eyebrows raising at the messy handwriting:

“I think the Doppler effect explains why my heart races whenever you’re near.”

You froze. The edges of the paper trembled in your fingers as the words sank in, and your cheeks warmed instantly.

“Jisung?” you called out instinctively, but he was already gone, lost in the crowd of students exiting the lecture hall.

Heart pounding, you hesitated for a moment before grabbing your pen. On the back of the note, you wrote carefully:

“Newton’s Third Law says every action has an equal and opposite reaction. I feel the same way.”

The next lecture couldn’t come fast enough.

Jisung didn’t sleep much the night before class. The realization that he’d left that note behind had haunted him. Maybe you’d thrown it away. Maybe you’d laughed at it.

But when he walked into the lecture hall the next day, you were already there. Sitting in your usual seat, you looked up as he approached, and your smile was soft—almost shy.

“Hey,” you said, sliding a small folded note across the desk.

Jisung swallowed nervously, hands trembling slightly as he opened it.

Newton’s Third Law. Equal and opposite reaction.

His eyes scanned the words once, twice, before he finally dared to meet your gaze. You were biting your lip, your eyes bright with anticipation.

Jisung’s voice came out barely above a whisper. “You—You feel the same?”

You nodded. “It’s simple physics, Park. Cause and effect.”

He let out a breathless laugh, hand coming up to cover his face as his shoulders shook slightly. “I can’t believe you’re using physics laws to confess to me right now.”

“Technically, you started it,” you said with a grin.

It was the end of a particularly brutal thermodynamics lecture. Jisung’s brain was fried, and judging by your furrowed brow, you weren’t faring much better.

The professor dismissed the class, and everyone packed up sluggishly. Jisung hesitated as he glanced at you, still scribbling something in your notes.

“See you later?” you said casually, but Jisung didn’t respond.

Instead, he slid a small, carefully folded piece of paper onto your desk before rushing out the door.

You blinked after him, confused, before carefully unfolding the note.

It was a Feynman diagram.

But instead of particle interactions, Jisung had mapped out…you and him.

At one vertex was a little stick figure of him, labeled “Jisung”, and at another, a tiny doodle of you labeled “(Y/N)”. Between the two were arrows labeled “Shared Jokes”, “Physics Puns”, and “Mutual Nerdiness”, and tiny hearts scattered along the connections.

At the bottom, in small, slightly wobbly handwriting, he’d written:

“I like you.”

Your face felt like it was on fire, but you couldn’t stop the wide smile spreading across your lips.

When you walked out of the lecture hall, Jisung was leaning against the wall, clutching the strap of his backpack like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth.

“Jisung,” you said softly, holding up the note.

He shifted nervously, avoiding your gaze. “I, um…I thought it might be easier to…you know…diagram it out.”

You laughed—a soft, delighted sound—and pulled out your pen.

Carefully, right at the bottom of his diagram, you added a new arrow connecting your doodle to his.

“Mutual Affection.”

You held it up so he could see, and Jisung’s eyes widened. His lips parted slightly in surprise before breaking into the brightest smile you’d ever seen.

“So…you like me too?” he asked quietly, voice trembling just a little.

“I think it’s safe to say we’ve reached a stable equilibrium,” you said with a grin.

He laughed—a sound full of relief and joy—and for a moment, the two of you just stood there, smiling at each other in the middle of the crowded hallway.

Physics could explain a lot of things, but this? The way Jisung’s heart felt like it was about to escape his chest, the way your eyes would crinkle when you smiled at him—this felt like a force of nature all its own.

By the time midterms had passed and the days grew shorter, the notes between you and Jisung had shifted. There were still plenty of physics jokes and ridiculous doodles—like the time he drew you both as photons bouncing off a reflective surface—but now there were softer words, too.

Between derivatives and integrals, you’d find little sentences scribbled in his neat handwriting:

“I hope you’re eating enough today.”

“You looked really pretty in the lab yesterday.”

“The universe is expanding, but I think my feelings for you are growing faster.”

In return, you wrote him notes on sticky tabs and slipped them into his textbook:

“Don’t stay up too late studying tonight. Even electrons need rest.”

One afternoon, after a particularly chaotic study session in the library, Jisung passed you a folded note with a tiny sketch of two orbiting electrons, labeled “You” and “Me”, with a little heart in the nucleus.

Underneath, he’d written:

“Stable bond achieved.”

You laughed softly, clutching the note like it was precious cargo.

“Park Jisung, you’re ridiculous,” you whispered.

He grinned, cheeks turning pink. “But you like it, right?”

You leaned over, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. “I like you.”

Jisung turned bright red and nearly dropped his pen.

The lecture hall was unnervingly silent during your final exam. The only sounds were the scratch of pencils on paper and the faint ticking of the clock.

You were halfway through a particularly frustrating question on thermodynamic efficiency when your calculator, which you’d been using furiously, clicked slightly as you pressed down on the buttons.

You frowned, turning it over—and noticed a tiny piece of folded paper tucked neatly into the battery compartment.

Your eyes darted up to scan the room. Jisung was a few rows ahead, hunched over his paper, completely engrossed in his work.

Heart racing, you carefully unfolded the note beneath the desk.

It was a small sketch, drawn with the same endearing messiness Jisung always brought to his doodles.

At the top, a hand-drawn banner read: “You’re the best experiment I’ve ever run.”

Below it, a sketch of the two of you: you with your hair tied back, him with his glasses askew and a shy smile. Little stars and hearts floated around the cartoon versions of yourselves, and at the bottom, he’d written:

“Hypothesis: Spending time with you improves my mood exponentially. Conclusion: Hypothesis confirmed.”

You pressed your hand over your mouth to hide your smile, your face heating up as tears pricked the corners of your eyes.

Carefully, you scribbled on the back with your pencil:

“Conclusion peer-reviewed and verified. Park Jisung, you’re my favorite discovery.”

When the exam ended, and everyone started filing out, you caught up to him in the hallway.

“Hey, Newton,” you said softly.

Jisung turned, his nervous smile flickering into something brighter when he saw you holding up the note.

“Did you…did you find it?” he asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I did.” You stepped closer, holding the paper gently between your fingers. “You know, I think you might be my best result yet.”

Jisung let out a soft laugh, cheeks flushed pink. “Does that mean we’ve achieved optimal conditions?”

You grinned, reaching out to intertwine your fingers with his. “Definitely. Stable equilibrium achieved.”

TAGLIST ↬ @lyvhie @aquaphoenixz @galacticnct @yizhrt @polarisjisung @multifandomania @spacejip @peterm4rker @viasdreams

[bonedo-enthusiast]

santa's little helper 𐂐◯𓇋 (klh)

desc: mall santa!leehan x mall elf!reader

warnings: smut, mdni!, perv!leehan (ofc), p in v, no protection used (no glove, no love 🫵), reader is mean but it's okay bc leehan is into it, degradation, praise, cute petnames, sexual acts in a public space (restroom), oral (reader receiving), sub!leehan, dom!reader, afab!reader, + lmk if there's anything i missed :)

wc: 2,842

you pulled the elf hat down again, annoyed that it kept drifting up on your head. you certainly didn’t feel very festive, the bright green clothing scratchy against your body anytime you moved an inch. in fact, you looked like you had come straight out of a christmas comedy, with your bored expression and your green pointed shoe tapping against the tiled floor.

your university had collaborated with the local mall for the annual santa pop-up, allowing college students to put work toward any necessary volunteer hours. you didn't have many other opportunities since your classes filled up a lot of time, so here you were, dressed in a tacky, too-tight costume waiting for the onslaught of kids to show up.

"perk up. elves aren't supposed to look cranky."

oh yeah, and there was that. or him, rather.

you turned around to fix the boy with a scowl. "the event hasn’t even started yet."

his response was that wide, irritating grin of his. "tsk, tsk… talking back to santa? do you want to be on the naughty list this year?"

kim leehan. of course he got the role of santa, being one of the most proactive students at the university. he was on the dean's list, president of the aquatic club, was apart of at least five other clubs, and was present at most volunteering events. he also happened to be incredibly annoying, always so egotistical. even if he was objectively one of the more attractive boys on campus, his personality irked you to no end.

you rolled your eyes and turned around, ignoring the chuckle he let out.

"lighten up. i'm just trying to look out for you–we’re going to start soon."

right. sure he was.

as if on cue, a gaggle of children ran toward the gated-off area like a swarm of hyperactive puppies. you quickly plastered on a smile and started by greeting the first one, instructing her to sit on santa's lap and tell him what she wanted for christmas. you stood in front of the line so no rogue child could enter, and watched as another elf wrote down the girl's wish. then you allowed the next child to enter.

your shift went by like that, rather monotonously, until the last child had gone through. 

"alright, folks! that's the end of today. thank you so much for your work. if you need me to sign a slip saying you were present, just let me know," the person in charge of the event said. "for those of you that don't mind, can you help us clean up the area for tomorrow's volunteers?"

you watched as the only other elf left, leaving you, leehan, and the event coordinator. you frowned but decided it wouldn't hurt to have some extra minutes of volunteer time, bending down and straightening the tinsel and fairy lights along the base of santa's chair.

"wasn't that fun?" leehan's voice came from behind you, startling you a little. "seeing all those happy children... it just made my heart melt."

"i guess. it wasn't fun having to keep the little ones out. they looked at me like i was their number one opp."

leehan let out a laugh. "well, that's okay. at least you look cute in your uniform."

you raised an eyebrow. "um... thanks?"

"it really suits you." leehan added, smiling down at you. "really accentuates your features."

you became more aware of how tight your costume was. they didn't have your size when you got to the event, them stating that they didn't order enough costumes. apparently they let all of their volunteers keep the costume when they were done as a token of appreciation. you now wished that was not the case.

"leehan, aren't you supposed to be helping me straighten things up?" you asked in an attempt to change the subject.

"fine." leehan said to your surprise. he bent down and helped you with straightening up the christmas decorations, then stood back up. "there. done."

"we should let the event coordinator know."

"they left." leehan said, gesturing at the gate. "probably going to do paperwork or something. we better head out."

you grabbed your backpack and followed him out of the gated area leading to the rest of the mall.

"i wonder why they stop the santa visits so early. the mall doesn't close for another three hours." leehan mused.

"the kids probably have an early bedtime." you said absentmindedly, looking around for the nearest bathroom so you could change back into your clothes.

your eyes landed on a large restroom sign and you immediately started walking toward it. you heard footsteps behind you and turned your head, seeing that leehan was following you. right, he probably wanted to change back into his clothes too.

you stopped at the restroom door, realizing that it was unisex, one stall. you turned around to tell leehan this so he could find another restroom, but he just brushed past you, opening the restroom door with a smirk. the door closed behind him, and you noticed that the door still indicated that it was vacant, meaning he didn't yet lock it. you scoffed.

was this a challenge?

you felt the familiar feeling of irritation and you let out a sigh. you had seen the restroom first, and you knew that the next restroom would probably be quite a few feet away. the itchy green fabric rubbed against your skin, as though making the decision for you. you pushed open the restroom door.

"okay, you freak. i found this restroom fair and square." you said with your hands on your hips.

leehan was leaned against the sink counter still in his santa getup as though expecting you. "oh?"

"yeah. so get out."

"or what?" leehan scoffed, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "what will you do if i don't?"

you let out another sigh, feeling disheartened and prepared to give up the damn restroom when your eyes trailed down and noticed the tent straining against leehan's pants.

"oh... my god. you sick freak." you said, scrunching your nose in disgust. "do you seriously have a boner right now?"

leehan pushed off of the counter, taking a few steps closer to you. "maybe. maybe not. why? wanna help me with it?"

"help you with it?" you sneered. "tell me, why do you have one in the first place? is it because of me?"

"yes." leehan said immediately, not an ounce of shame in his voice. his eyes softened even as he stood tall over you. "please... i want you."

"you sound pathetic." you said, although your tone had less bite than it previously did. in truth, his words sent a warmth straight to your cunt. the prospect of fucking him didn't sound entirely awful. in fact, the idea seemed almost enticing, and his pleading eyes didn't help.

you locked the door, sliding it from "vacant" to "occupied."

"you want me?" you chided, taking a step toward leehan, closing the distance.

leehan nodded eagerly. "yes. god, please, yes."

"unbutton your coat." you said while crossing your arms, unimpressed.

leehan brought his hands up to the fleece material, his fingers clumsily unbuttoning the coat one by one, leaving his chest bare. he didn’t even have a shirt on under it? you scoffed, wondering if he had somehow planned this.

leehan started to slide the coat off, but you stopped him. "did i tell you to take it off?"

"n-no..." leehan said with raised eyebrows, stopping his actions. "sorry."

“make it up to me. wanna touch me?” you gently pushed him so he was against the wall. 

leehan let out an involuntary moan, making your pussy throb. “yes, please… wanna touch you so bad.”

"mm well, since you asked so nicely..." you leaned forward so that your face was inches away from his. then you grabbed his hands and placed them on your boobs.

leehan began kneading them gently, his thumb running over your nipple through the fabric. you let out a sharp gasp at the contact and felt his dick get harder against your leg.

"you're so fucking hot..." he murmured, leaning forward to kiss you.

you kissed him back as you slowly rubbed your thigh against his dick. he pulled away with a moan, his head falling back. you took the opportunity to pepper kisses along his neck, sucking and leaving marks as you went.

"please..." leehan's voice cracked.

"hmm? please what?" you asked, reaching up to pinch his nipple.

"ah! f-fuck... please t-touch me!"

"i am touching you, leehan." you said matter-of-factly, squeezing his nipple again for emphasis.

leehan bit his lip. "w-want you to touch my dick, p-please!"

"i think i need some convincing first." you leaned back, leehan whimpering at the loss of contact. "make me feel good, then i'll consider it."

"i'll make you feel good... make you feel so, so fucking good."

"then do it." you said with a scoff. "or are you just all talk?"

leehan smashed his lips against yours, pulling you into him. the kiss was messy, with saliva mixing and short breaths of air. he tugged on the hem of your shirt and you took the hint, breaking away from the kiss to tug the shirt up and over your head. your bra followed soon after, the cool air hitting your already perky nipples.

"fuck..." leehan breathed, staring at your chest. "so fucking pretty."

before you had the chance to feel shy, leehan resumed kneading your tits, paying special attention to your nipples. you threw your head back with a moan as leehan swirled his tongue around your nipple, using his other hand to rub against your clothed clit.

"oh fuck, leehan..." you groaned, biting your lip.

"feel good? do i make you feel good?" leehan asked, looking at you intently.

"so good, leehan. so good, just as you promised." you didn't miss the way that leehan's dick twitched at your praise.

you felt your orgasm building fairly quickly just from his hand and fingers alone, your body betraying you. "l-leehan, i'm gonna cum."

"wait."

you froze, eyes wide as you looked at leehan. oh god, was he uncomfortable? did he realize how crazy this--

"i want to taste you." leehan said, a dopey smile on his face. "please, y/n. please let me eat you out."

and how could you deny that?

you quickly slid out of your green leggings, tossing the damned elf hat off while you were at it. leehan sunk down to the floor, face-to-face with your pelvis. before you could take off your panties, leehan reached forward and pushed your panties to the side before grabbing your waist and pulling you toward him. you gasped as he dove face-first into your cunt. as he nibbled on your clit, you swore you could see stars. leehan's tongue lapped inside you as though his life depended on it.

"nngh... l-leehan, fuck! s-slow down, i'm not gonna last!"

"don't want you to." leehan managed to get out between sucking on your folds and panting. "want you to cum."

his words pushed you over the edge, your vision going blurry as you came in his mouth, just as he wanted. as your vision came back, you panted and leehan peeled himself from you, a sheen of your cum on his chin. he licked his lips and wiped his chin with his sleeve, grinning up at you. "that was so hot. you taste so good, baby."

you ignored the way the pet name made your heart flutter. "now then... i believe it's your turn."

leehan's eyes grew wide as though he had forgotten about himself. he hastily stood up and shucked off his pants along with his boxers, his dick springing up proudly.

you let out a chuckle. "looks like someone's excited to see me..."

leehan nodded, sucking in a breath, "i need you, y/n."

"need me, huh? tell me, do you do this often?" you spit in your hand before reaching forward, grabbing his dick and sliding your hand down it.

he let out a choked moan. "n-no, just you..."

"oh? just me? so what, you've been thinking about me?"

"mmh... yes, y-yes..."

"and what have you been thinking about?" you ran your thumb over his slit, causing him to throw his head back in pleasure. "nasty things, i'm sure."

leehan didn't respond, instead letting out more lewd moans. but his flushed face told you everything you needed to know.

"i'm right, aren't i? you're such a fucking pervert." you said, speeding up your pace.

"n-n-no!" leehan managed to choke out.

"don't you lie to me. i could stop, you know." you said, doing just that. leehan's cock stood in your hand, the tip weeping and red.

"no! p-please!" leehan begged, almost manically. "please don't stop, please please--"

"then don't lie. you've been thinking nasty thoughts about me, haven't you?"

leehan's lip quivered. "y-yes... i have..." he looked like a hurt puppy, shame spread across his cheeks in a pink dust.

you felt a pang in your heart at the poor, pathetic boy in front of you. "tell me what you've been thinking about."

"w-what?" leehan bit his lip nervously.

"tell me or you won't get to cum." you said firmly.

leehan let out a soft sigh. "i just... thought about you fucking me. you... finding out about my feelings toward you and..." he trailed off, his blush deepening. his feelings toward you? you felt your lips tug into a smile, finding the sentiment endearing. but you’d have to revisit this later.

you resumed jerking him off at the same rapid pace you were previously, causing him to moan loudly. "so you wanted this to happen? i wonder how many nights you spent jerking off to the thought of me fucking you. how pathetic..."

"w-wait... w-wanna be inside y-you... please! please..." leehan whined out between moans.

you stopped your ministrations on his cock, feeling the growing wetness in your cunt. "oh, you want to be inside me, huh?”

leehan nodded insistently, eyes wide and pleading. “please, y/n, please…” 

“aww…” you cooed, raking your free, unsoiled hand through his hair. “let’s switch spots.”

the two of you shifted so that you were against the wall and you finally pulled off his coat, admiring his arms. “alright, pretty… do you think you could help me keep one of my legs up?”

leehan visibly melted a bit at the nickname. “yes, i think so.” he lifted your right leg up with one hand, using the other to steady himself against the wall.

you placed your hands on his shoulders, placing a kiss against his jawline. "alright, whenever you’re ready."

leehan nodded and licked his lips, moving your underwear to the side once again before slowly pushing his girth into you.

"oh, f-fuck!" you moaned, wrapping your arms around leehan's neck.

once leehan's dick was buried inside you, he promptly pulled out and slammed back in, eliciting moans from both of you.

"you're doing so good." you cooed in his ear, sucking more marks into his skin.

his pace quickened, the sound of flesh against flesh filling the room. his movements were so needy, so impatient. if you weren’t equally as needy, you would have teased him about it. 

"nngh... f-fuck, y/n... so wet..." leehan's voice came out breathy. "i think i'm g-gonna cum..."

"already? we just started." you said, trying to keep your voice steady. "you really can't last any longer? too excited to get your dick wet?"

"c-can't... help it!" leehan's eyes squeezed shut, his thrusting getting inconsistent and sloppy.

"that's okay... you're just my cumslut, aren't you?" you said, raking your nails against his back.

"fuck... y-yes, i'm your-- cum-- i'm cumming!" leehan choked out before you felt a warmth gushing inside of you, filling you up. you followed soon after, his orgasm fueling your own.

leehan gently pulled you off of him and helped you lean back against the wall, your legs a bit wobbly. "fuck, y/n... that was so..." he trailed off, grinning at you from ear to ear.

you felt your face grow warm, becoming aware of your nakedness. "um... yeah."

"so... i don't want things to be awkward between us." leehan said softly. "so um... would you maybe like to go out with me? i was kinda hoping for something more beyond the physical."

"oh, so there some innocent thoughts scattered among the dirty ones?"

leehan's blush returned. "uh... yeah. i would say there were quite a few. innocent ones, i mean!"

you laughed. "yeah, sure. i'll go on a date with you."

"really?" leehan beamed at you, his eyes nearly disappearing with how big his smile was.

"yeah... but first let's put on some clothes, hmm? and by clothes, i mean our regular clothes."

"what's wrong with the santa costume? it seemed to get you going." leehan said, wiggling his eyebrows.

you wrinkled your nose. "um, no. incorrect."

"liar. i bet you loved being santa's little helper."

"gross." you groaned. "you're such a freak."

leehan grinned. "so i've been told."

a/n: i was at the mall w @blueberrybeomgyu & @escapistgarden when berry was like omg mall santa fic as a joke and then ofc i couldn't stop thinking abt it 😭 im SICK but it's okay bc i made this :p i cant believe how long this turned out... im used to writing drabbles but slay ig. anyway, if ur reading this, tysm for ur support! <3 hope u enjoyed :) also, merry christmas! (if you celebrate <3)

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

Heart on a Chain (Scrooge!Aemond x Reader)

Christmas day and a recently rediscovered ring bring unpleasant and unwanted memories.

Pairing: Ebenezer Scrooge-coded Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader (second person, no use of Y/N)

Warnings: Angst :(

Author's note: The guy that played young Scrooge at the Christmas Carol I went to today was hot and the way he carried himself reminded me of Aemond so... here we are. Wrote this in less than two hours lmao.

-

Heart on a Chain

Christmas Day.

For the past two years, Aemond had not given more than a passing thought to the holiday. That thought being annoyance at having to pay his employees a full day’s wages for no work.

It was just another day. He woke, read the papers while he ate, then went to the office. He balanced the books, double-checked the work of his clerks, and inspected the warehouse’s stock. He sat with his business partner and discussed new prospects.

Even now, Cole was telling him about a potential new partnership he’d identified. A newly founded firm, desperate for reputable clients, would be almost too easy to maneuver into a contract that would heavily favor Targaryen & Cole. Ordinarily, Aemond would be eager to sink his teeth into the prospect, but now…

Now, he could not focus on Cole’s words. He could not bear to look at the pages of figures strewn on the table before them. He couldn’t even remember the name of the new firm, or what it was they did.

His entire world had faded to the ring that sat in his pocket.

Dull, cheap gold set with a pathetically small cabochon – he didn’t remember what the stone was, just that it was vaguely red. It looked ridiculous against the fine gold chain he’d purchased. That was the reason it remained in his pocket, rather than around his neck, he told himself.

It certainly wasn’t because he was afraid to see it out in the open, to be reminded of the slender hand it had once graced and the woman it had belonged to.

He hadn’t thought of her in years. Had not let himself, from the moment the door closed behind her. The same door that now loomed behind Cole, where the dented brass bell swayed slightly from the draft, just as it had three Christmases past…

“Aemond?”

He held back a sigh. Why did she have to come now? He was busy, as he told her he would be. He did not want to be disturbed, as he also told her. He had even agreed to go to Christmas dinner at her parent’s house that evening to ensure she would not bother him during the day.

Yet, here she was.

“Yes, dearest?” he called as he climbed off the ladder. Best to be sweet now, to soothe whatever mood had taken her this time. If she came all the way down to Cornhill and made it past Cole in the office, she must be in quite the state.

Indeed, as she found him amongst the massive rows of shelves, her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes shone with tears that sparkled with the reflection of his lamp. Still, she was beautiful. If only she would content herself with what he had to do to ensure the security of their life together.

She stopped, straightening her shoulders. Her furious blinking betrayed the fact that she was battling her tears to keep them from falling. “Aemond, we need to speak.”

“I assume there is something particular you wish to speak about?” He was distracted as he walked toward her, the label on one of the crates he passed catching his eye.

That order was supposed to be shipped out days ago. He’d dock Cargyll’s wages by half this week for allowing such a major error. The recipient of this shipment was very particular and would undoubtedly complain that his goods were late.

“We must discuss our agreement,” her voice, now bordering on shrill, reclaimed his attention.

What was there to discuss? He’d agreed to go to her house after he finished work at six, and… damn. When he pulled his watch from his waistcoat, he found it was already half-past seven. Still, dinner wouldn’t be served until eight. He had time. “I admit I’m running late, but with all the workers out for the holiday – ”

“Not about that agreement, Aemond. About our engagement.” A heavy stone settled in Aemond’s stomach, chill as ice. She continued, “I cannot help but feel that an idol has displaced me in your affections.”

The stone turned hot and rancid with anger. “And what is this idol, may I ask?”

“A golden one.” Her tears vanished, replaced with cold righteousness. “Wealth and power, and everything else your father denied you.”

“Is it a sin to seek security? To endeavor to escape the cruel grasp of poverty and helplessness?”

She came closer to him, setting a gloved hand on his arm. He had to resist the urge to pull away. “Your fear and resentment have overpowered your nobler aspirations,” she said softly. “Now, your only passion is gaining more and more, beyond what is necessary.”

Aemond took her hand, suppressing the urge to seize her shoulders and shake sense back into her. “Even if that were true, I am not changed toward you.”

To his horror, she pulled away, shaking her head.

“Dearest?”

She flinched as if the word struck her. “Our agreement was made long ago. When we were poor and in love and content to remain so.”

“I was a boy, then,” he scoffed.

“And I loved that boy!” She fell quiet for a moment, turning away from him when he reached for her. “But that boy is gone, and my heart aches for him. It is in his memory that I release you from our agreement.”

Until that moment, Aemond had nearly forgotten he had a heart. But her words shattered it, and pain wracked through his chest. Juvenile fear and distress took hold of him. He approached her, oblivious to her feeble attempts to move away, and took her in his arms. “Dearest, I do not understand. Have I ever sought release?”

“Not with words.”

“In what, then?”                     

She finally faced him again, and he knew he would never forget the horrible sight of her heartbreak and disdain – disdain for him. “In a changed nature and spirit. You do not look at me as you used to, Aemond. I used to feel beautiful when you looked at me, but now, I feel like a burden saddled upon you.”

“That is not true,” he begged.

“Tell me, honestly,” her gaze and voice steadied, even as tears spilled down her soft cheeks. “If you were to make the choice today, would you choose a dowerless girl?”

Aemond wanted to say no. But the world would not form. All he could say was, “You think not.”

The tension in her body vanished, her shoulders sagging and her head drooping. She looked up at him with despairing conviction. “With a full heart, for the love of who you once were, I release you.” She backed away from him, and his heart went with her. “May you be happy in the life you have chosen.”

She had only taken three steps away when he called her name, extending a hand to her.

But when she set her hand in his, he harshly pulled away.

He extended his hand once more. “My ring.”

It was her ring, he knew. It always was and always had been, even when he had forgotten about it. It was likely why, that night, he had thrown it carelessly into a dresser drawer to get it out of his sight. To forget the pain that had been contained within that strange, reddish stone.

But his maid had found it three days prior and given it to him, unleashing all that pain back into the heart-shaped hole in his chest. It was ruining him, that pain, clouding his mind and stealing away his better judgment.

“Aemond?” Cole’s voice was filled with annoyance. “Have your senses fled with the workers? What is wrong with you?”

Wrong? Nothing was wrong with him. Something was missing. She was missing. “Forgive me, Cole,” he said. “I must have eaten something odd. I’m afraid I am out of sorts.”

“Well, you’re no use like this. Go home. Come back all the earlier tomorrow, though!”

Aemond was already out the door, his coat only half-buttoned.

Home. He needed to go home, eat a hot meal, and go to bed early. Yes, a good rest would fix whatever had gone wrong inside him. He just needed to get home.

His feet didn’t take him home. They carried him to a place that he may once have called home but no longer. Equally traitorous, his hand raised in a fist to knock on the door he once would have entered without a second thought.

A cheering from beyond the door halted his movements, and Aemond moved to glance through the nearest window.

There she was. Just as radiant as he remembered. Even more so, for she smiled.

She smiled at the babe she held in her arms.

A babe who bore the same smile as its mother. But its eyes and hair were different. Those had been inherited not from its mother but from the father who stood behind the child and mother, looking on them both with unabashed adoration and pride.

Aemond had looked at her in much the same way, when he had been capable of feeling such things.

All the air left his chest. Had he ever been able to breathe? Perhaps he would die before he remembered how to. Part of him wanted to.

But somehow, he pulled enough air into his lungs to fuel his body as he walked across town to his own home. He ate his dinner, read the evening papers, and retreated to his bedroom. There, he readied himself for bed. Yes, a good night’s rest would cure him of this ailment.

He did not realize until he laid upon his bed that the cool metal of a chain rested against his skin.

If he could not bear his heart in his chest, he would wear it around his neck.

[thewayitalknj]

I've been listening to a lot of Mötley Crüe lately to hopefully manifest me seeing them in Las Vegas next year. Came up with this while driving, which is how a lot of my ideas come to be recently. Word Count - 1.6k

"Come on please, I have no idea what they have planned and it's killing me." He was practically begging you at this point. You roll your eyes as you walk down the next aisle, stacking the next set of 'romantic comedies' that just came in.

"Eddie, it's your birthday, it's supposed to be a surprise. And can you please stop bugging me while I'm working?"

"Yeah yeah sure I'll stop bugging you" he grits his teeth, "if you tell me what they have planned."

You turn around fully facing him, pushing your glasses back up your nose, taking your voice down to a whisper. "Look I truly have no idea what the fuck they have planned so please stop asking. Just be grateful they're doing something with you and you're not spending your birthday alone." You turn back around, making your way to the 'horror' section.

"At least come with me-"

"I can't, I have my bookclub tonight. But come to my place and tell me all about your guys night tomorrow if you're not too hungover."

He huff's his breath up, his bangs moving in the process. "Thanks a lot."

"I'm sure you'll have a blast."

A strip club. A fucking strip club. As much as Eddie appreciated what his friends were doing this is not what he expected. All he wanted was a guy's night in playing D&D and watching movies but no, his friends had to go all out.

The worst part is it was 'dress up night', so the strippers would be in various costumes. His friends thought the better, dress up plus dancing ladies ; what more could anyone ask for?

After a few hours sitting in a booth a few drinks in, an announcement sounded over the DJ speakers ; "alright everyone we have a birthday in the house! We want to welcome our birthday boy in Booth 21 to come on up for a special dance!" As everyone roared with excitement Eddie blushed under the neon lights.

"Why are y'all doing this to me?"

Garth pushes him forward, "Because we love you, NOW GO!" Eddie reluctantly makes his way up and sits on the chair provided for him. He drums nervously on his knees waiting for the song to start.

The next dancer comes to take the stage, dressed in all red, devil horns, and a red laced mask. Her hair is curled, not one piece left undone. She steps into the spotlight, and Eddie swears time halts and he has to take breath in order to steady himself. He is mesmerized. She slowly makes her way over, putting her hands on both sides of the chair. She eyes him up and down smirking to herself and as her song begins to play ; taking control of the room.

Eddie feels like he's fallen under some sort of spell, like something he wrote out for a campaign. He's so enthralled he completely forgot he was in a room with other people. He watches every move she makes ; the way her hips sway, how she doesn't come too close but just enough to tease him, and the way she makes eye contact with him? Forget about it ; Eddie swears he's falling in love with her right then and there, even though this was his first interaction with the mystery woman.

And in the three minutes the song plays, Eddie is so thankful his friends took him out. He tries to memorize every detail of the devil, just in case he decides to come back another time. Maybe on his own? Maybe with buddies again? Who knows, but he just had to remember her. Particular details ran through his head ; the hair style, the color of her eyes, and while she moved her body up against his, he noticed a small birthmark on the left side of her body, ironically shaped like a heart right above her heart ; and be still his own heart. Right when the music fades and the crowd begins to cheer breaking him out of his headspace, she leans in to his ear and with a sultry voice whispers "happy birthday sweetheart" and it's right then and there Eddie could have been shot through the chest by an arrow and he would feel no pain.

His posse of course never let him see the end of it, with constant teasing as the night went on. One thing was for sure, he could not wait to tell you about his night in the morning.

Eddie couldn't wait, he was practically banging at your door at 9:00am. You reach for your glasses on the nightstand, pull your hair in a messy bun and make your way towards the front door. You look through the peephole and Eddie is waving.

"Ed, what the hell-"

"I gotta tell you about last night." He races in, high on adrenaline pacing your living room.

"Good morning to you too-" You shut the front door, "can I please make some coffee first? I'm exhausted."

"Bookclub ran late?"

"Something like that. Want a cup?"

"Sure, thanks." You sulk to the kitchen and make your coffee, wondering what the hell has Eddie all wound up. You make your way back, handing him his cup as he takes a seat on your couch. "Damn, what book are you ladies reading that has you staying up so late?"

"It's nothing. So tell me, how was your birthday?"

"Amazing, they took me to a strip club."

You swallow your coffee, hard. "Oh wow, what an event."

"You're telling me, it was incredible. Well at least, she was incredible."

"Oh god Eddie don't tell me you fell in love with a dancer-"

"You don't understand. There was just something about her, I-I know it sounds corny but it was like magic. I've never felt like that before." He looks around your living room, then reaching over and grabs your shoulders playfully, shaking you. "Am I going crazy?!"

You laugh, "I don't think so. I just find it hilarious that it's a fucking stripper you're talking about."

"Yeah, well-" Just as Eddie begins to move his arms something catches his eye.

A birthmark. On the left side of your body. In the shape of a heart. He looks into your eyes, the same color and sparkle that were under the mask. He looks at your hair, it's normally straight, why does it look curly and wavy?

All these small details come together in his head. He moves his hands off you and runs them through his own hair, piecing everything together.

"So yeah, uh-enough about me...how was...bookclub?"

"Oh god you don't wanna hear about my bookclub. Why-"

"No no, I do..want to hear....about the bookclub. Please tell me." He takes another sip of his coffee, staring at the birth mark.

You follow his eyes, "is there something on me?"

"Hm, no. Just....so, bookclub?"

"Oh you know, just another night of girl talk about a steamy romance novel and too much wine, just the norm." Eddie can't even think straight, all the events from last night come rushing to his head.

You ponder at him wondering if he's okay, "sweetheart are you alright? You're starting to worry me."

Sweetheart, a nickname normally used frequently but now it's different. He jolts up from your couch. "I gotta go. Dustin and I have...stuff-to do."

You're dismayed, just nodding your head. "Um okay, but if you need anything just let me know-"

"Yeah uh thanks. And thanks for uh the coffee and...talk."

He speedily exits your home, and you're left wondering if maybe just maybe...

Just a Few Hours Ago

You stand off stage looking out to the man sitting on the chair. Only to realize it was Eddie.

"Oh shit-"

"What's up girl? Everything okay?" Your co-worker, Jade, comes up behind you.

"I-I can't go out. You take my slot instead."

"What, why? I'm not on for another 20, why do you want to switch?" She signals to Cassie, the DJ, to hold off on the music. Cassie gives a thumbs up and waits.

"I know the guy sitting in the chair, he's one of my friends. I can't...dance for him."

"Why? He won't know it's you, we're all dressed up tonight."

"Yeah but it's just...awkward that I know and he...doesn't."

"Look, I understand where you're coming from but I think you should just do it. He won't know it's you, does he know you work here?"

"No no, he's here with his friends for his birthday," You watch him drum on his legs, probably nerves. "I wouldn't picture him as someone who would want to come out and do this but, there he is."

"So, give him the dance of his life. Something he'll never forget. Remember, you're not going out as yourself." You nodded your head, Jade was right. You signal back to Cassie to start your song when ready. You quietly thank Jade, take a deep breath and take the stage.

24 Hours Later

As you apply your lipstick looking in the mirror, your other coworker Bianca comes in. "Hey B! How was your daughter's band recital?"

She takes a seat next to you giving you a half hug. "It was great! She crushed her solo, I'm so proud of her."

"That's incredible. I can't wait to see the tape!"

"Oh before I forget, Pam wanted me to tell you you got a private dance at 10:30."

"Wait, really?" You ponder, turning around in the chair. "I haven't done a private dance in weeks."

"Guess someone really likes you because they asked for you specifically."

"Oh wow. Really? Okay then, thanks for the heads up."

"No problem, be safe!"

Once 10:30 rolls around you make your way to Room #2, opening the door and stopping dead in your tracks the moment you see who it is, casually lounging on the couch.

"Sup sweetheart?"

Quick Notes - Hope you enjoyed! :) Thank you for reading! Reblogs are much appreciated! Maybe Part 2? idk.

[tenpintsof-sundrop]

My Top 10 Fics Of 2024

So, I have decided that I am gonna do the same thing that I did last year because I had so much fucking fun with this last time and it's a great way to look back and reflect on all the hard work I have done this year. And I am counting these down not based on statistics - not how many likes these posts have or how 'popular' they are, but based on how much I like them, and I get to really reflect on how writing these fics made me feel. And that is truly the most important part of fanfiction - how much fun I am having. So I am really happy and excited to reflect on all the awesome stuff I have written this year.

And I think a really great sign is that I had an incredibly difficult time with this year's ranking. Because I wrote so many amazing fics that I had so much fun with. Even if I had a really (not so fun) incident where I came very close to quitting fanfiction altogether, I had a lot of fun, and I wrote a lot of amazing things that I am so fucking proud of. And I'm only including fics in this ranking that I have posted (which is why I strategically waited until after certain fics were posted to write and make this ranking) - and not even including ones I have written and not yet posted, which are also fics I absolutely fucking love. So even if this year may not have been great for my mental health or my physical health, this year was a year where I felt great and comfortable and happy as an artist.

Anyway, here's the ranking!!

This year I posted 20 different fics consisting of over 250,000 words - and that is not including the fics I have not edited and the unfinished WIPs I have in my drafts.

Also keep in mind, if you randomly see this post in tags and you don't follow me, this is my main blog and not my fanfiction blog. My fanfiction blog is @sundrop-writes - you can follow me there to check out my fics and follow me for all my exciting fanfiction adventures in 2025.

Honorable Mentions:

Meddle About - Sub!Spencer Reid x Dom!Fem!Reader (6,300 words). I was slightly conflicted about if I should put this on the list or not, because currently, this is (in terms of statistics) the most popular fic on my blog right now, and usually when a fic is super popular, I am less inclined to like it. But this list is supposed to be strictly about how I feel about my fics and the experience I had while writing them. And I did really enjoy the experience of writing this fic - it was really fun to write something absolutely kinky and filthy and to write a fic that was so truly stuck in my head. I had a lot of fun with it.

The Restricted Section - Dom!Hermione Granger x Sub!Fem!Reader x (Secret Voyeur) Harry Potter (4,400 words). This is one of my absolute favourite fics that I have written this year, and it just didn't make the top ten because other fics were more my favourite. I loved writing this because it was such a fun PWP and it was one of those instances where I had the idea and then the fic was posted like a day later. It's a lot of fun.

Tongue Twister - Sub!Gar Logan x Dom!GN!Reader (2,000 words). This is one that I actually forgot that I wrote this year - it feels like so long ago lmao. But I really loved it when I wrote it, I love it now. I will always love Gar so much, and I love writing slutty fics about him.

Eager Little Puppy - Sub!Isaac Lahey x Dom!GN!Reader (2,700 words). This is by far one of my favourite things I have written this year - Isaac is one of my new favourite characters, and I have absolutely loved writing about him (and I look forward to writing more about him in the future). This is just a representation of how much I love him.

One Moment Per Episode With Dick Grayson - Dick Grayson x Fem!Reader (8,300 words). This is another one that I forgot was from this year because it feels like so long ago. I really fucking love the concept and I really, really want to continue it further in 2025 (feel free to send me messages if you are excited about it and want to see more, because I would like to set aside some specific time to work on it). Anyway - I really love the start of it and I really love what I have planned for this fic in the future.

Now, onto The Top Ten:

10. Precious Time Alone (aka The Knot Fic) - Gar Logan x Fem!Reader (11,800 words)

Even with the ability to see the future, you never would have guessed that your life would lead you to falling in love with the perfect man - someone sweet, caring, funny, cute. Someone with the passion and fire to protect the ones that he loves no matter what. A precious guy with green hair who had the ability to transform into a tiger at will. And when you finally made love to him for the first time, you never could have guessed how that unique ability affected his sex life. You weren’t exactly complaining, but you wished you had seen this coming. At the end of the day, it was just another thing about him to love. Or - Neither you nor Gar knew that he has the ability to knot, and you both find out for the first time when you have sex together. Gar Logan x Fem!Powered!Reader. Established Relationship. Smut/PWP. Set during Season 2, Episode 9.

It's such an interesting coincidence that both this year and last year, the number ten slot contains a Gar fic that is a re-make/re-post. I have a lot of fics that are only on AO3 and not on Tumblr, and I highly recommend that you check out my AO3 for that reason, but if I am transferring a fic from AO3 to Tumblr, I love to go through and do some edits on it and see how I can improve it before I post it again.

I absolutely loved this fic when I first posted it, and I love it even more with the edits - including the new scene that I added. It is such a fun idea that could be considered Crack Fic (so often, I write Crack Fic concepts but I treat them seriously) - the idea that Gar has a Knot because he is 'an animal' (or because he has animal DNA). It's such a funny idea, but it was fun and hot to write porn about it.

I love this fic, and if it is your thing and you would enjoy reading it, I hope that you enjoy it too.

9. The Way You Miss Me - Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader (18,500 words)

Fred broke up with you. He made it clear that he was going to have a new life when he opened his shop, and he didn’t need you to be a part of it. You being stuck on him was just another joke in a long line of pranks that he pulled. And life kept on laughing at you when your fear of heights was triggered by a potentially life ending mission the Order put together that had you dangling hundreds of feet over London, held up only by Fred’s strength and determination. So what does it mean when the two of you land, and he’s the only thing that can stop your shaking panic? What does it mean when he’s looking at you with nothing but love in his eyes, holding you tight like a lover would? Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader. Exes to Lovers. Emotional Angst and Smut. Set during Deathly Hallows.

This fic is one of the reasons that the ranking was so difficult. This one got moved around a lot because I had so much fun writing it and working on it. I am also super proud of this fic because originally, the idea was going to be part of a much longer fic, and I am so glad that I was able to pull off the emotions and the tone that I wanted in a much shorter word count that took me a lot less time. It makes me incredibly proud of myself - that I don't feel like I have to spend months and months on an idea in order to truly pull it off.

I fucking love this fic and I am so happy with how it turned out.

8. Why Am I The One? - Isaac Lahey x Fem!Reader (15,200 words)

Isaac loves you. He loves you more than anything else in the world - which is exactly why he has stayed away from you for so long. But when Derek kicks him out onto the street in the pouring rain with absolutely no warning and no reasoning as to why, Isaac has nowhere else to go. He could claim that he sought you out because you’re close by, because he knows that you won’t turn him away in his time of need - but deep down, it’s because he misses you. And staying away from you for so long is the hardest, stupidest thing he has ever done. Isaac Lahey x Fem!Reader. Exes to Lovers. Smut and Emotional Angst. Set during Season 3, Episode 4.

Again, this is one that made the ranking very hard. I enjoyed the process of writing this so fucking much. I was immediately inspired when I saw the episode, and as soon as I saw it, I started working on this fic - the imagery of Isaac so slutty in his white shirt sparks the temptation to write smut, but I love the emotional depth of him being a literal kicked puppy (after being kicked out by Derek) and being emotionally vulnerable and needing some place to go and someone to turn to. It is literally a perfect recipe for the kind of smut I write - super hot sex with emotional depth because one of the characters is feeling vulnerable. It's perfect.

This fic is exactly what I wanted it to be when I set out to write it, and I especially loved exploring Isaac's grief for Erica (which is by far not explored enough in the show) and I might do a continuation of it in the future, I'm not sure. Either way, I think it's fantastic, and it definitely deserves a spot on this list.

7. She Keeps Me Up - Dom!MILF!Jennifer Jareau x Sub!Fem!Reader (3,100 words)

JJ is protective of you. When you offer yourself up as ‘bait’ to lure in an UnSub who is killing women of your type, she protests endlessly about it - but ultimately she can’t stop you. She can, however, possessively lay her claim on you when you get back from the ordeal with nothing more than a tiny scratch. Dom!Jennifer Jareau x Sub!Fem!Reader. Established Dom/Sub Relationship. Smut/PWP.

Like I said, this list is all about reflecting, and I was considering wiping all Criminal Minds fics off this list because of the experience that I had - but that wouldn't be fair to my past self or fair to my art. Especially because this is one of my favourite fics I have ever written and whenever I listen to the song that I titled it for, I still have incredibly fond memories of writing this fic.

I think that MILF!JJ is my favourite version of JJ, even though - ironically - I haven't seen a lot of the later seasons. But way too many people obsess over Professor Reid and Grey Haired Prentiss (who I also love, don't get me wrong) - but I think there is not enough love for MILF!JJ. Not by far. I want to be her controversially younger girlfriend.

I actually have something in my drafts that is MILF!JJ centric, and if I finished it, it would be the only thing that could get me to stray back into the Criminal Minds fandom. I am so down bad for JJ, it's not even funny. (So - if you wanna see more of her, feel free to come in my inbox and let me know.)

6. Blood In The Water - Void!Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader (11,700 words)

Being Stiles’s best friend, you are incredibly worried about him when you figure out that he is quite literally not himself - and that the thing currently occupying his body could be destroying it in the process. When you approach him to show this concern, Void takes a particular interest in you. He’s not capable of love, or even fondness, but he likes you. And he likes the way your fear spikes when you talk about Stiles. So he makes you a deal - he’ll agree to take care of this fleshy, mortal host, in exchange for something more precious, more rare, and more delicious than the meal you have brought for Stiles. He wants your pain. He wants your tears. Void!Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader. Pining Best Friends. Extreme Emotional Angst, Hurt No Comfort. Set during Season 3 (with flashbacks to Season 1, Episode 11).

Another one that made the ranking so hard. This fic was so much fun to write, because as I said in the A/N for it - I fucking love writing villains. I love writing characters who are absolutely unambiguously evil. I do think it's a big of a shame that the recent cultural shift is to write villains as morally ambiguous or to take characters who are evil (or morally grey shifting more towards 'bad' in the canon) and soften them up so much in fanfiction to make it seem like they did nothing wrong.

A lot of people write Void as one of those "he is bad but he won't hurt me because he loves me uwu" characters and I really don't like that - because I want to write him as a character who is absolutely fucking incapable of love. He does not know love, he doesn't know what it is, and he has absolutely no softness or fondness for any person.

I really want to write a sequel to this fic - I have one drafted out that I think would be so fucking good - and I think I want to make it one of my goals for 2025 to complete and post the sequel. Anyway, just this fic as it is, I fucking love it, and I had such a fantastic time writing it.

5. Downhill - Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader (20,100 words)

Draco knows his place in the world. He is a Malfoy, he is Pureblood. He is supposed to marry, carry on the Pureblood line. He is supposed to do everything that his parents would - including killing, if it’s what his Dark Lord wishes. Draco Malfoy is not supposed to hesitate. He is not supposed to feel fear. He is not supposed to have room in his heart for fondness, or even love. Not even when it comes to his bartered and bought fellow Pureblood fiancee. Love is nothing but a weakness. And Malfoys are not weak. Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader. Arranged Marriage/Hesitant Lovers. Emotional Angst and Smut. Set during Half-Blood Prince.

This is one of the fics that caused me to strategically wait to make and post this whole list lmao. And I am glad that I actually got this fic posted when I wanted to, and I'm glad that I waited. I have had this fic brewing in my drafts for a long time, and I have had the general idea for it in my head for a lot longer. I've actually had the idea in my head for longer than the original fic existed (the fic that this is a prequel to) and when I figured out that I could utilise my idea here, I was so excited.

I love writing about the real consequences of Draco being a Death Eater and I fucking love writing the Arranged Marriage trope, and this was all my favourite things to write about rolled up into one. And I also loved writing the inclusion of Harry having a very shallow one-sided crush on the reader when she is too busy actually falling in love with Draco to notice. This was incredibly fun for me to write and I absolutely love how it turned out - so it is by far one of my favourite fics I have written this year.

4. Figure It Out - A Criminal Minds Casefic (18,000 words)

Since you joined the BAU, you have been keeping a terrible secret from the team. When the team takes a case in your hometown - your festering secret comes to be known with a vengeance. Fem!Reader x Gen!BAU Team (Platonic). General Casefic, modelled after a Criminal Minds episode. Angst, Mystery, Hurt and Comfort. Set during Criminal Minds Season 3.

I feel like this list would be incomplete if I did not include the fic I obsessed over as my first fic of the year. This fic really did a lot for me as an artist - for so long I have been wanting to write something with a similar concept to the music video for Figure It Out by Royal Blood (something where the story essentially goes in reverse and more details are revealed along the way, constantly changing who you believe is the villain vs who is the victim). The first time I saw that music video, it changed me and I have been so radically inspired by it ever since.

And because this idea has been sitting in my head for literal years, I am so fucking proud that I managed to do it justice. And I do think that Criminal Minds is the perfect backdrop to do this kind of idea with, and I think that this is actually a kind of radical artistic episode that they might actually do.

I would also love to use this format for other fandoms (I think it would work so well for The Walking Dead especially, and you guys know that I want to apply everything I do to Titans) - so I am so glad that I wrote this fic and gained confidence in writing something with an usual format and that I just got to have fun with it.

3. When Doves Cry - Jason Todd x Gar Logan (11,100 words)

At Dick’s insistence, Jason comes back to Wayne Manor to help the Titans end Crane’s deadly plan. Jason doesn’t want redemption or forgiveness - he’s done believing that he’s worthy of those. Once Crane is back at Arkham where he belongs, Jason plans to disappear, never to be heard from again. But Gar - someone who never stopped loving Jason and never stopped believing in his goodness - has other plans. Jason Todd x Gar Logan. Friends to Lovers/Lovers Reunited. Smut and Emotional Angst. Set during Season 3, Episode 13.

This fic is absolutely so fucking special to me. This is actually one of my only fics that has a dedication, even though most of my romance based fics should be dedicated to @nctzenkane - because he is the love of my life and he inspires most of my romance based fics in one way or another.

I wrote this fic at a time when I was really struggling as an artist. If you have been following me all year, then you will likely know about an incident where I spent months writing a longer fic, and that fic garnered some complaints and hate comments, and when I spoke up with my distaste for those comments - I was basically told to shut up, and I was told that fanfic readers have a right to be rude and treat fic authors like shit the second that we post our work to the 'public'.

And it really demotivated me and the whole incident really made me thoroughly consider quitting writing altogether, especially considering the fact that my chronic illness is getting worse each year and every single time I successfully post a fic, more and more work has gone into that fic behind the scenes (past my illness) in order to make that fic 'visible to the public'.

All of this to say that I was feeling down, disappointed and lost, and I asked Jaycen what to do - what I should write to truly make myself feel confident and good in my art again. I asked him to request something because I needed some inspiration and some artistic direction. And he requested this fic - because he usually only enjoys romances between canon character pairings (and he loves JayGar because I majorly fed him the juice on that) and he knows that Titans is my strong suit.

The fic is also incredibly special to me because the song is also incredibly special - even though I fucking love 80s music, I didn't really listen to Prince until Jaycen encouraged me to, and when I listened to this song for the first time, it really wormed its way in as one of my all time favourite songs. And it suits these characters and their dynamic so well in addition to being such a beautifully personal song to me.

So yeah - this fic is gonna go down in history as one of my top five favourite fics of all time, not just from this year. And it definitely made the ranking a lot harder.

2. Heaven's Gate - Daryl Dixon x GN!Reader (24,200 words)

Hope. Not the fragile, delicate thing that everyone mistakes it to be. Hope is stubborn, and grows inside of you long before you ever realize its purpose there. Hope can’t be crushed by a thousand pound tank or torn apart as easily as concrete walls can. Hope is balanced on the backs of songbirds, it whistles quietly in the wind, and it brings you right where you need to be (even if you don’t know it). Daryl Dixon x GN!Reader. Strangers to Lovers/Lovers Reunited. Emotional Angst, Hurt and Comfort, Fluff. Set during Seasons 1-5.

This is another fic that is so fucking special to me, and that's why it's so close to the top of the ranking. I have had this idea in mind for years probably - I fucking love the concept of any fic that involves reunions when it comes to The Walking Dead (and I could write 10,000 more fics based on this concept) because every single moment of reunion in the show just fucking gets me. Even though I don't really like Rick and Lori's relationship (and I love Lori, don't mistake me as a Lori hater - never), the moment where Rick gets out of the cube van and reunites with Carl and Lori for the first time in the first season - it gives me goosebumps every single time without fail.

So I simply aim to recreate that feeling with my fics.

Also - the bird symbolism. When I lived at my old place, I had a bird feeder right outside my window, and I used to do a lot of bird watching. And I became familiar with certain bird species and the rarity of certain types of birds, and there is just something hopeful that ignites within you when you see a particularly rare bird - and it is a myth I have heard that cardinals represent good luck (likely because of their rarity) when you see them.

And I love how the whole fic evolved to represent hope, which I think is something we all need more of in our lives. During this year of existential dread and sadness, it felt really good to write something that was purely about happiness and hope.

1. The Jaws of Life - Jason Todd x GN!Reader (19,900 words)

You and Jason don’t really hate each other - at least not anymore. Your feelings for each other are more than complicated, and before you have time to figure it all out, you have to part ways. Jason goes back to Gotham at Bruce’s behest, and you’re off to visit a long lost relative that you didn’t even know cared about you. Unfortunately, while you’re apart, the Joker makes things even more complicated with a phone call and a gun. And your world comes crashing down before you can even put names to all the stars in your sky. Jason Todd x GN!Powered!Reader. Friends With Benefits to Lovers/Lovers Reunited. Smut, Extreme Emotional Angst, Hurt and Comfort. Set during Season 3. 

Here is the big number one! I am giving this one the top spot even though it's incomplete (and I am kind of biased because in my head, I am including how amazing stuff from the second part is) - and maybe it's just an excuse to include such an amazing fic in two different 'Top 10 Fics of The Year' posts lmao. Because when I post the second part in January, technically it will count for next year too.

But anyway - I love this fic so fucking much. This fic has been so long in the making, and I love every single aspect of it - the emotions, the metaphors, the length. This is one of those fics that is perfect to me because it came out exactly how I wanted it to be in my head. I am so utterly proud of this fic, and I am so glad that people are getting to read it now, even if it is just the first part.

Anyway - that's all for this year, and I am sooo looking forward to seeing what I can come up with next year.

[eroscomet]

Make it Right

Chapter three- Afraid

┗━━━✦❘༻♡༺❘✦━━━┛

Paring: Astrid Deetz x Fem!Ghost!Reader

Warnings: Talks about readers death, a bit angsty.

A/N: TWO UPDATES IN ONE DAY, LET'S GO. I had to get the grind on yall. I've been leaving you guys dry with nothinggg. I hope that you guys enjoy this. I can't say that i'm fully out of my writers block but I do know that I have quite a bit of motivation. Also, I'm writing some new things as well, a Hermione fic, an Olivia Rodrigo fic, and I'm getting a Jenna fic started as well. I have some Oneshots in my drafts currently that I might release some time. Also, i'm sorry in advance if there's any mistakes, I wrote this whole thing in like an hour.

Proof read

╰┈➤Series Masterlist

┗━━━✦❘༻♡༺❘✦━━━┛

┏━━━✦❘༻♡༺❘✦━━━���

“What’s the frown for, dead girl?” Astrid murmured, gently running her thumb over your cold skin, which she had been so desperately trying to get accustomed to.

“I’m never going to be alive again. What if you lose your ability and never see my ghost again?” Your arm instinctively leaned into her warm touch.

“Y/N, i’m not going to suddenly just stop having this ability.” Her reassurance felt nice but did little against your fears. Her fingers raised to gently pinch your cheek, trying to bring a faint smile to your lips, “Don’t worry. I’ll keep seeing your pretty ghost face no matter what.”

A soft smile appeared on your face, wanting to believe Astrid’s words. Allowing yourself to get carried away by the thought as you continue to lean your cold, dead skin closer to Astrid’s warm, live touch.

“Even having gone through death, you’re still clingy.” Her tone was one of fondness.

━━━━✦❘༻♡༺❘✦━━━━

Weeks had gone by, Astrid stopped by your house whenever she could and even when she couldn’t, you’d roam the town trying to find her like a lost puppy. She was the only one who could see and talk to you, without her, you were lost in a sea of people who couldn’t see or hear you. However, you did know Astrid the best, knowing where to find her whether it’s at school or at the Deetz household.

Currently, Astrid was sitting in her bedroom, trying to desperately study for a test that she had the following day. It was late at night, with Astrid only having her desk lamp on to prove enough light to illuminate her work. She let out a small huff, frustrated as the words were beginning to blur together on the paper. Raking a hand through her messy hair, she sat back in her chair.

“God damnit.”

“Boo.” You joked as you phased through her room’s door, smiling. Emitting a sharp gasp at the sudden voice, her head whipping around to look at the door.

“God! Don’t do that!” Astrid nearly yelled, her hand over her chest as she gave you a glare. She had thought she was alone in her room. So the sudden voice almost gave her whiplash.

“I’m a ghost, it’s what I'm supposed to do, no?” You replied with a laugh as you fully phased your body through the door, entering Astrid’s room. The Handbook for the Recently Deceased in her hand, “I’ve been reading up on this and there's a way to return to life, you know?”

Astrid had let out a small scoff, rolling her eyes at the handbook in your hands. She had always thought that it was a bunch of horseshit. She stood up from her chair as her girlfriend entered the room, crossing her arms over her chest, “Don’t bullshit me, dead girl. You’re a Ghost - you can’t just suddenly come back to life.”

“No, but I can trade a life for my soul. It says so in the book, that I need to find someone living that’s willing to give me life in exchange for theirs but…i’m having no luck. You’d be surprised how hard it is to talk to people who can’t hear you.” You said jokingly with a smile.

“Why am I not surprised?” She replied with an amused scoff at your joke, “Is that the only way for you to return?”

“Well, that and or marrying the living.” You said as you opened up the book, looking down at the page. “Though, I am a bit iffy on this option. It wasn’t from the book, it was offered to me by this man with green hair and a weird white and black striped suit. He said something about if I help him find his ‘bride-to-be’, all i’d have to do is find a person with a life to marry and he’d be able to send me back to the living.”

For a moment, Astrid simply stared at you, trying to process what you had just told her. It sounded batshit insane, but then again - it’s not like the world was any less insane at this point either. She walked towards her girlfriend, glancing down at the book. A slightly skeptical look on her face. Still, she put a hand on her hip, taking a moment to think about it.

“Okay, so let me get this straight. All you have to do is marry a living person and you’re good?”

“No, I have to find this guy’s bride-to-be or whatever. He honestly went on some monologue about her and I zoned out. He didn’t want to give me any information unless I agreed to take his offer. I think he said his name was Beetlejuice?”

“Beetlejuice?” She repeated with a raised eyebrow. The name sounded vaguely familiar to her but she couldn’t remember where she had heard the name before. She let out a sigh, moving back to her desk to take a seat in her chair once more. Raking a hand through her hair as she looked at you, “Okay, let’s just say I do believe this for a second - How are you supposed to find this bride-to-be for some weird Beetle-dude?”

“He’ll give me her name and a photo of her. He says all I need to do is find her and have someone alive say his name three times.”

She hummed quietly as she listened and thought over everything for a moment. It was starting to get into crazy territory for Astrid, but it’s not like anything that happened in this god forsaken town wasn’t already crazy.

“Okay, dead girl. Let’s say we do find the bride. What then? Who’s going to say the name three times?”

“I was hoping you could help? He says that his bride or whatever can also see the dead or something.” You shrugged.

“God, you’re a pain sometimes. Fine, I’ll say the damn name three times if we find this bride” She said with a small amused huff. Of course you were going to ask her to help out with something that sounded crazy enough to work.

“Also… You need to marry me for me to return to the living.” You said as you looked at Astrid. This was a big ask of you, and one that sounded irrational but how else could you return? Your hand began to gently pull the hairs on the back of your neck, nervously.

Astrid stared at you in slight disbelief at your words. Marriage - actual marriage. A part of Astrid’s mind began to wander, imagining what it would be like to marry you. Then she pushed the thought aside, remembering they were technically teenagers.

“Y/N, you can’t be serious about the marriage part. We’re teengaers.” 

“So, what, I'm supposed to wait years to return to living?” Your voice was a bit defensive, “What if his offer doesn’t stand by then?”

“Y/N, why are you so dead set on returning to life anyway?” She asked with a frown tugging at her lips, her tone was now more soft than skeptical.

“Because I'm dead and I'm cold and everyone sees through me but you. Even you can’t touch me for long before you practically freeze to the bone!” You said, your voice had wavered a bit as you became vulnerable by the question.

Astrid’s expression softened at your words, as much as she didn’t want to admit it, you had a fair point. It was hard for her to touch you for extended periods - even if Astrid loved holding you. But at the same time, Astrid couldn’t help but also feel a pang of guilt at her words.

“But you know I don’t mind if we can’t touch for that long. Plus, i’m the only one that can see you - that’s special, don’t you think?”

“And what about my family? I’ve been dead for a year almost two!”

She felt like her heart almost dropped at your words, she couldn’t imagine how hard this had to be for you, being separated from your family - not only by death but by her own ability. She gently laid her hand on yours, trying to offer some comfort. Unsure about marrying you, but her reluctance lessened a little at your words.

“You miss your family.” She mumbled, more of a statement than a question. She squeezed your cold hand, her other going to your cheek, caressing your skin gently. She let out a soft sigh, trying to organize her thoughts - but her mind was getting progressively more conflicted.

“God, this would be so much easier if I just said yes. It sounds like the best idea, but…” Her thoughts trailed off as she slowly retracted her hand from your cheek.

“You don’t want to marry me.” You said quietly as you realized, not needing to read her mind to know what she was thinking. You pulled away from your girlfriend’s touch, biting your lip.

Her gaze immediately whipped back up to look at you, her expression was a mix of shock and confusion.

“No, that’s-” She began, a frown quickly plastering itself on her face. She reached her hand out toward you, trying to grab your again. “-It’s not that, Y/N.”

“I’ve gotta go. My second deathiversary is coming up tomorrow.” You said as you stood up, not waiting for Astrid’s reply. You simply phased through her wall, leaving her alone in her room.

“Y/N, wait!” She explained, standing up to follow after her ghost girlfriend. She dashed over to the wall that you had phased through, trying to grab your hand before you left. However, Astrid’s hand only went through empty air - you had already left.

“God damnit.” She mumbled, cursing under her breath as she let out an exasperated sigh.

━━━━✦❘༻♡༺❘✦━━━━

When the next day came, you found yourself sitting at a bench at the graveyard. Watching as your family visited your grave. Despite no one being able to see you, you wore all black since it felt most appropriate for the situation. Astrid had walked up to the graveyard, noticing you sitting on the bench in all black. Letting out a small, quiet sigh, she began to walk over towards you, but then stopped for a moment. Her eyes looked towards your grave, noting your family visiting and talking in front of the grave, probably leaving things for you to ‘use’ in the afterlife. 

“Astrid, honey! You made it! I can’t believe she died two years ago, huh? Still feels like yesterday.” Your mother said as she quickly walked towards Astrid, unable to see your ghost which was sitting right behind Astrid.

Astrid let out a strained smile, nodding her head. That smile was mostly fake, stealing a glance over at you.

“Yeah, yeah…it really doesn’t feel like it's been that long…” She mumbled, mostly playing along. However, the sight of your family made Astrid’s heart pang with guilt.

“I’m sure Y/N would’ve wanted her girlfriend here.” Your mom said with a pitiful smile as she put her hand on Astrid’s shoulder hesitantly.

“Yeah, she would have.” She responded quietly, trying to keep the guilt out of her voice as she glanced over at you, who only stared at your mother.

“Yeah, you know I just can’t believe…” Your mom had begun speaking, her pitiful voice drowning out as you began speaking.

“Can you tell her that I love her?” You said as you stared at your mother. 

How was Astrid supposed to tell your mother that her head daughter says that she loves her? “That would sound absolutely insane, especially to such an attention seeking mother-” Astrid quickly cut off her thoughts as she didn’t want to take them too far. She simply tried to listen to what your mother was saying, but your sudden words made her almost immediately forget. 

“How am I supposed to tell a mother that her daughter, who has been dead for two years, loves her?! I’d sound more insane than my own mother!”

Astrid glanced between you and your mother, trying to think of what to do. Her mind racing with thoughts, trying to find a way out of this situation. Her mind kept drawing blanks, and then she heard your mother speak again.

“Don’t you think?” Was all that Astrid had heard as your mother looked at her expectantly with a smile.

“Yes, I do think that.” Astrid replied, nodding her head and sending your mother a fake smile that she knew would satisfy her. She cursed herself internally for not listening to what she said before, nodding her head to your mothers words. She had no idea what she was agreeing to, all she knew was that she didn’t want to be speaking to your mother right now.

“That’s what I thought! This baby is exactly what this family needed. I’m very excited for Vera’s baby shower. I knew you’d agree that naming the baby Y/N would be a good idea.” Your mother said with a smile. 

Vera, your older sister who is twenty-two years old, apparently planning to name her first child after her sister, Y/N. Astrid knew it was purely out of her selfishness and wanting the attention directed at herself and not Y/N. She didn’t want to be in Y/N’s shadow after your death because her entire life she’d been the center of your parents' affections and attention.

Astrid’s eyes widened slightly at her words, the realization slowly dawning on her as to what your mother was saying to her. A part of her felt like she just had a bucket of water thrown on her. Your sister was pregnant and naming the baby after you and your mother had just asked Astrid’s opinion on it, knowing Astrid dated you. Astrid knew she should probably say something, but the words just froze in her throat. Her mouth opened and closed, but no words escaped her. She was happy that your family still loved and missed you, even if they displayed it in an attention seeking way.

Astrid felt guilty and almost selfish for wanting to keep you to herself, she bit her bottom lip and glanced in your direction. Your mother’s smile slowly began to fade, a look of confusion taking its place as she looked over to the direction Astrid looked, but seeing no one and nothing. Astrid’s eyes flicked up to see your mother staring at her, clearly wanting Astrid to give some kind of answer.

“You must be grief-ridden. I’ll bother you no more, but just know that you’re invited to the baby shower.” Your mother said pitifully as she shook her head, excusing herself and walking back over to your family at your grave.

“Yeah, so is half the town, don’t go feeling special with my mother.” You said with a small indignant scoff.

“Gee, thanks for the commentary.” She quipped under her breath, “You can cut the attitude, you know.”

“I’ve got eternity to hold this attitude. Literally, now that there's no way for me to return to living.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to be so..” Astrid paused for a moment, trying to find the right words, before eventually sighing and just deciding to say bluntly, “..bitchy, for lack of a better term.”

You slightly scoffed, you were somewhat amused but also annoyed. Shaking your head, you stood up and began walking away. Astrid was going to catch up to you but once you phased through a tree, you disappeared into thin air.

┗━━━✦❘༻♡༺❘✦━━━┛

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, more to come I promise. Thank you so much for the love and support. Remember that you can request something on my page if you're interested! I promise to get on it asap. Anyways, bye lovelies!

[novantinuum]

Reformation ref sheet for an AU Steven (named "Astra") who's been invading my brain since like,, April. It's VERY wide, apologies. There's a lot going on here because this man is incredibly old and has poofed way too many times for varying reasons. (See This post for how I headcanon that Steven can poof and still be considered a hybrid being.)

While I will not talk in huge length about certain aspects of his AU on this blog due to some of it involving strong NSFW themes, there is a ridiculous amount of other lore I've developed over time for Astra, and I love him to death. He is my sad, lonely mans who I metaphorically hurl against the wall like a sticky hand when I need to feel something.

This version of Steven will likely never have any kind of full ass fic or comic made about him. Despite that, I do enjoy sharing some art and fun character lore for him from time to time. So, I might as well finally give followers like... literally ANY context for him. I've had this ref sheet for a while and just have never gotten around to throwing it on here, LOL.

Ridiculously long dump about my guy under the cut.

Subnote, this was supposed to be a quick post but I can't help myself and wrote you a fucking BOOK under the cut because I love my guy so much UWU

(Content warning I guess for like, extremely vague mentions of Steven/Steven later on.)

-

The huge tl;dr of Astra is as follows: he's a version of Steven who exists for SO long that he basically transforms into something of an ancient, lonely god.

He's outlived every single person he once knew as a child, and so as a result is starved for affection. At the same time, being vulnerable is the absolute scariest thing for him and he's really shit at navigating relationships, F.

The guy is THE most powerful living creature in his entire universe by the end, and yet remains a soft-spoken, (generally) benevolent soul. He dedicates himself to acting as caretaker for the vast, populous world he exists within, and to maintain the continuing legacy of Gemkind. A big discovery that occurs in this AU is that Gems are in fact susceptible to entropy over the span of millions of years and will eventually fall "inert," (but not him because of weird hybrid biology stuff he honestly sees as more of a curse than a blessing) so a huge plotline early on in Astra's lifespan is trying to either find a "cure" for this issue or to develop a means by which new generations of Gems can be created without the reinstatement of Kindergartens so Gemkind doesn't overtly go extinct.

-

But, to start... this Steven diverges off a point in canon- this is the timeline where he actually takes up the Diamonds on their offer of the throne in the movie, believing he may have a better chance of heralding true societal change working from the INSIDE rather than stepping away. Because he pours himself so thoroughly into his role on Homeworld and his mind is continuously occupied by this purpose, he never experiences the events SU: Future, nor does he develop his "pink mode" (yet...) or corrupt at all.

However, he's also so engrossed in his work that he's... kind of a shit boyfriend to Connie as years go on. (In that he's not terribly attentive... always super busy... their visits are often cut short, or few and far between.) Their relationship never really goes anywhere as a result, though Connie wants it to. To be fair so does Steven, but he's so scared that everything he's worked so hard to organize and set up in this new era will fall apart if he steps aside from his role for even a moment that he can't allow himself to follow that want.

At some point here he learns he can poof through a complete freak accident, and that's where things really begin to change in this timeline.

It takes a good few months for him to reform, but once he does he's back at it with all his work on Homeworld pretty quick.

The thing is... he doesn't have an innate physical need to eat or drink or sleep anymore, because he now consists of entirely hard light. It mimics human biology to an insane degree, so he COULD do all those things, but he doesn't need them to persist. So... he kinda takes this as an excuse to cut those activities out of his schedule entirely so he can spend more time focused on his duties as a diamond.

Connie is NOT a fan of this, and this leads to some debate and tension within their relationship. That being said, they remain an item...

Up until out of nowhere, Connie dies in an accident on Earth while Steven is off planet in a place where he doesn't have any contact with them for a few days. By the time the Gems are able to get in touch with him, it's far too late to resurrect her.

The kicker? In the autopsy it's discovered that she was a few weeks pregnant when she died.

Steven is emotionally gutted by this... and the thought of what could have been... and poofs.

The guy is understandably destroyed when he comes back in his next form, and his form reflects that- his gem flips as a sort of metaphorical severing from his own humanity.

He spends a long while in a deep depression at the loss of his childhood sweetheart... at the loss of any potential for (as far as he sees) a "normal" human life. There's a part of him that resents the choices he's made to end up in this present, but like, there's still work to be done.

And as the years move on, a LOT of that work is mitigating the growing relations (for better or for worse) between Gems and humans as humanity stretches their legs and reaches out into the stars. Humans kinda get... really aggressive in their expansion though, and quite territorial, and it leads towards some inevitable conflict between them and Gemkind. This time, with them more at fault. Things get so spicy that some groups of humans and Gems go to war.

Steven tries to mitigate one of these situations at the front lines- and gets poofed by a disgruntled Gem, speared straight through the back because she (kinda wrongly) assumed he would take the humans' side due to his ancestral ties to them.

When he reforms this time, he is glowing a perpetual pink. The Gems don't really know what to make of this, but he seems to be in perfectly fine health otherwise, so they assume it's just a normal aspect of this new neutral form.

And while this isn't something Steven has context to figure out until like... billions of years later, what's actually happened is that he's entered a permanent pink mode, pretty much. Guy's just got that much bottled up, unaddressed trauma.

He spends a long time in this form, and over all these thousands of years oversees the slow return to peace between Gems and humans... their marriage as a space age federation... and their deeper exploration of the galaxy. Beyond their home solar systems exist a bounty of alien species they've yet to meet... some friendly, some less so. There's definitely some conflict that crops up amidst the local galactic neighborhood when Gems and humans show up on the playing field here, lol.

But all-in-all, Steven develops a fairly peaceful and predictable routine during this reformation- living more like a Gem than ever before. He's still got the Crystal Gems at his side through all of this, and they are some of his greatest confidants.

And then... without any warning... Gems begin to go inert. Amethyst is among them.

Some of them simply stop reforming after they poof... especially those who were older Gems, or who have been cracked before. Steven and the other Diamonds using their powers together are able to "fix" this at first and "jumpstart" their reformation, but it's just a bandaid of a fix- these Gems will fall inert again pretty soon. And the longer they persist without poofing from alternate causes, the more unstable their form, power, and memory becomes. (Think of this as Gem dementia at its late stages,,, oof.)

The bottom line? Just like organics, Gems aren't immune to the forces of entropy. Sooner or later, their gemstones will decay from the inside out. Stubborn to find a way to save the ones he loves as he watches them slowly deteriorate all around him, Steven dedicates himself to trying to find a cure. But deep down, a part of him recognizes the futility of this. What he believes Gemkind actually needs to do is to develop a means of rebooting Gem incubation that doesn't destroy planets, so they can rebuild their quickly dwindling population and keep their legacy alive.

The big problem with this is that Gems take a SHIT load of energy and resources to properly incubate, so that puzzle will take a long ass time to sort out. There's kinda a lot of chaos that happens during this time. The reality of their own blunt mortality freaks out a bunch of Gems, and Steven has to do damage control with the heads of state for a lot of other alien species.

In the interim, all the Crystal Gems and some of the Diamonds (White is still in the picture, though) end up falling inert. Pearl is the last of the CGs to do so.

Steven is understandably SUPER gutted about this, and poofs yet again. (Lol notice a theme? Poor mans keeps poofing from friggin' anguish. Help him.)

After reforming with barely any changes, it's right back to work for this guy. He and the rest of his team of researchers are unable to find any cure for Gems decaying and falling inert, but they do end up making huge leaps and bounds in other kinds of tech. One of these advances allows Steven to finally deep-scan his own gemstone down to the atomic level to check for decay- this was previously a process that was very invasive, and came at the risk of irreparably damaging a Gem, but not anymore.

He expects to find evidence of the same micro decay that's been slowly eating away at the rest of Gemkind within his OWN diamond, but the thing is...

He just... ISN'T decaying at all? Even though the sheer age of this gemstone itself should suggest otherwise? As it turns out though, his existence as a hybridized being makes him kind of... an anomaly. When he first reformed all those thousands of years ago, all the data within his gem- data that would otherwise be susceptible to decay- was translated into genetic material. DNA that's woven entirely out of hard-light... but, DNA that has also been constantly regenerating itself thanks to a combination of all the intricate biochemistry surrounding the human telomere and his healing powers.

In other words, he is incapable of falling inert from natural causes, like micro decay. He's functionally immortal. Unless someone shatters him (or... heaven forbid... he shatters himself) he simply can't die.

Which, all of a sudden, makes his race to save Gemkind from their quickly approaching extinction all the more personal. Because if he FAILS- then he'll be the very last of Gemkind. There will be no one else left in this world who is even remotely like him. (Humanity has mixed and mingled with the galactic locals so much by now that they're very much unrecognizable from what they once were.)

His spirit is very nearly broken by this discovery, and he is severely tempted to throw all his own principles out the window and just sanction the construction of new Kindergartens again, if only to keep the dwindling Gem populations up and birth new generations. Perhaps surprisingly, it's White Diamond- the last Gem left who Steven actually knew since the very beginning- who urges him to reconsider. To not give up on his own morality, to not revert all the miraculous changes he's worked for these long few million years.

The big shift in the tides is when he discovers the means to jump to alternate timelines, and thus the existence of the greater multiverse. This allows him to gather intel and ideas from a far greater spectrum of sources.

And eventually... it's with the aid of many alt versions of himself from other lines across the multiverse that leads to him finding a suitable, eco-friendly solution to his Gem incubation problem. (This is the aspect of this AU I cannot discuss in length for discretion's sake. Use your imagination. Or don't, I don't care.)

The following two sections, I'll be talking more about the broad thematics than anything else. At this point, know that there are now new batches of Gems being created all the time. Gemkind is no longer at risk of any extinction, but now- like any stable organic species- new Gems are made at the same rate that they fall inert.

So, the BIGGEST thing here with this reformation is that this is overtly where this guy picks up the name "Astra." Why a name change? Well, after White finally went inert, leaving him the last Diamond in existence within this line, it basically just felt... upsetting to him, to continue to go by a name that every person he ever loved used for him. Thus, the new name is overtly a means to distance himself from that past, and from that pain. (It's also a name he chooses while thinking back to a meaningful conversation he had with White, back before she went inert, oOF. I'll probably yell about that at some point in another post.)

So, too, is the lack of any tangible facial features. He HAS a face, but others just can't see it. He subconsciously obscures it from almost everyone's sight as a means of avoiding vulnerability. One might also have noticed by now that this guy's proportions have gotten like, really strange and sorta "stretched out" over time the larger he becomes... and this is intentional, as it's yet another way he's just becoming more inhuman in form, yet another way he's internally separating himself from those humble human origins of his.

But here's the thing, though.

Deep, deep down, to be human and to live a simple human life is basically all he's ever craved. It's everything he feels he's lost forever, with the death of his Connie. And instead, he's kinda stuck in a hellish sunk cost fallacy of his own making, acting as eternal caretaker for this world that- no matter what he does to try and make it a better place- will never quite be PERFECT. Thus, in his mind, even though he's literally fixed Gemkind's BIGGEST problem, he can't Stop. He can't Rest. He simply can't allow himself himself to lay down and Sink Away into the unknown.

And even if he could allow himself to do so, he is so, so scared of walking that path alone.

If he's going to die... he wants that end to be at a lover's side.

How, though, is someone who's basically a god supposed to find anyone in this multiverse with experiences they can remotely relate to?

Well... ultimately, Astra finds that it's far, far easier to build up a close relationship with varying versions of himself than anyone else. He's... kinda trash at it, though. This guy has so much bottled up Gunk in his head and is so starved for any form of affection that he has a habit of throwing WAY too much of himself into the relationships he engages in, and expecting that same level of commitment in return. There's one relationship with an alt Steven he's in for a while that ends up pretty unhealthily co-dependent before it fizzles out, and then another where he assumes the individual is committing to this partnership for the long run, but then no... actually Astra was always pouring more into this dynamic than he was receiving in return.

This second relationship, when it ends, is pretty devastating to him- since it was one that lasted for like, a LONG ass time. Unimaginably long. We're talking billions of years, here.

Uh-oh! And now he's even more distanced from other people. Folks can't even parse his actual chosen name at this point- except he isn't really consciously aware of this for a while?? It's yet another silent cry for help, yet another internal defense mechanism specially intended to keep others from truly getting to know him. Because every time he does... stars. No matter what he does, he keeps getting hurt. Almost everyone he knows and loves is torn from his life eventually... if not by death, then by some form of tragedy... and he's just so, so tired.

He wants literally ANYTHING to change in his life. He craves some new form of purpose. He craves the attention of someone who might love him as passionately as he loves them.

For a while, he almost believes he's found that- in yet another close relationship he forges with an alt version of himself- but while this other Steven does care for him immensely, it's only as a friend. Which kinda kills Astra, because he's like, lost in the sauce levels of In Love with this guy. There's a LOOOOOOT of story I have here with this, oh my god. If I am thinking about this AU I am usually thinking about this Old Man Yaoi. The great bulk of it is very NSFW themed though, so y'all getting the cliff notes.

The MOST important thing to know though, is that Astra both makes intense leaps and strides in once again allowing himself to be vulnerable with this man, and ALSO kinda intensely fucks their whole mutually agreed situationship up. It's messy. I am crying and wailing at these two old dumbasses. Jesus fucking christ.

But then, it's in the aftermath of this whole deal that an individual named Orion comes into the picture.

Orion quite literally falls into Astra's world by complete accident, but it's a very lucky accident- because she is a diamond hybrid version of Connie from another universe who- beyond a few differences- has a strikingly similar history to his. The big difference, though? She never found a means to create new Gems without Kindergartens, so she was the last of just a few thousand Gems who existed in her entire line. Part of a deeply endangered species.

This version of Connie arrives in some very deep mental turmoil, and so Astra does his best to give them a stable home and a place to heal. And while a past version of him might've been tempted to throw way too much of himself into the slow building rapport they have, he's blessedly Learned a thing or two from the past few major relationship experiences he's had... and chooses to like, ease up. Just offer himself as a friend first and foremost, should they care for one. Man learns restraint, lol.

And it's a damn GOOD thing that he does, because out of the genuine friendship they foster, Orion is the one who ultimately falls in love with him first. The relationship that's established here is one that's balanced, a true partnership where they simply make each other better people. It's through Orion's encouragement that Astra eventually reconnects and makes up with that last person he had an intense relationship with, even.

In time, Astra truly grows to thrive with Orion in his life. He becomes a far more open, vulnerable person, someone who feels safe to truly exist as who he is, to bare every complicated, battered facet of his past to those he trusts. While he may have taken the LONG road to get here, he too heals. And as a result...

One day, Astra simply stops glowing entirely. Shrinks down to more reasonable proportions. He stops hovering around on automatic, stops subconsciously scrubbing the memory of his face or name from people's minds. He stops denying his truest, deepest self- the reality that he was born an organic being, and raised as a human.

The burred reality that all he's ever truly wanted since the day his first lover died is to be a father.

To live a quiet, simple life with the people he loves.

For so long it was a mirage of a future he thought he'd never chase down, but for how much he made all the wrong choices the first time around, now he has a second chance.

And so in my brain, that's exactly what happens. Astra and Orion start a family together and continue to act as guardians over this universe for many years to come, until- after they are satisfied with the long life they've lived together, and their children have moved on to start forging their own paths- they eventually pass Beyond at their own will in each other's arms, ending their impossibly long godhood at peace.

I really don't know how to end this post lmafo, so I will simply say: if you somehow read all of this, holy shit you are so brave. Thank you for engaging with my insane ramblings. Have a nice day LOL FUIHSNUFSJG

This man haunts my brain so much I missed two off ramp turns on the highway the other day while thinking about him. Help me.

[mr2swap]

Late Christmas gift

I looked at the kitchen clock again, “6:36PM” It had only been 2 minutes since I last looked, after that I looked at the phone just to confirm that the time was correct, Maybe Grandpa Greg's flight had missed. Delayed? We hadn't seen each other, I placed my grandfather's glasses over my eyes, which I had easily gotten used to always having at my side.

I hated these stupid glasses, Grandpa's eyes work as much as his tiny, wrinkled cock, it's been over a year since me and Grandpa swapped bodies, I'd forgotten to buy a damn gift for Grandpa Greg, I didn't even know he liked me. To old people before I became one... I should have given him a foot massager. This huge belly makes my feet so tired that I prefer not to move from the couch for hours.

Anyway, I didn't have a gift, so I just wrote on a piece of paper “Valid for any gift.” How the hell was I supposed to know that what I wanted for Christmas was to be young again?”

The day after Christmas we simply woke up in each other's bodies and the worst thing of all is that we can't say anything about this ridiculous body swapping! Every time I try to tell my parents or one of my friends that I'm trapped in my grandfather Greg's obese, disgusting decrepit body, those thoughts just disappear from my mind and I start talking like I'm a 60-year-old old man. The last time I tried to tell my ex-girlfriend Stephanie, I “woke up” at the racetrack showing off my enormous stomach with a pipe in my lips and several empty beer cans around me.

But all this would end soon... or at least it was supposed to. We had tried everything to swap again, we even watched a long marathon of body swap movies to try various methods, but nothing worked... the only solution was to try to recreate what caused this problem in the first place, I just had to give him the same gift, and he would write “my body back” or something like that.

My family was preparing for dinner when suddenly a sound that came from my cell phone made me put the beer I was drinking on my huge belly.

“I'm sorry kid, but I didn't know how to tell you in person, I decided to leave things as they are for a while, I still have things to do with your body, but don't worry I'll be back for the new year... maybe, I just met a guy incredible on the beach and I wouldn't want to ruin it”

Hey guys! happy holidays!

This is a little story I wrote last year for my Ko-Fi page, thank you all so much for another wonderful year, if you like bodyswap and stories you can support me on my Ko-fi page to access my archive of over 250 bodyswap stories, from my old patreon and discord…

oh! And join my discord server, if you like RP or if you have any ideas that you would like me to write in a future story, I'm taking suggestions for ideas and images.

[causenessus]

present. | nakahara chuuya

behind closed doors are two kids who never had a childhood. but it’s too late to mourn the past. life is supposed to be about living in the present—about those small moments that aren't really that small, right? only at night and when they are alone is it safe to grieve what they never had in the safety of each other’s arms. and maybe they are everything the other has hoped for and more. . . . “villian and violent, infant and innocent, baby, both arms cradle you now. mystery of lack, stabbing stars through my back.”

chuuya x f!reader

ongoing written work

taglist if anyone wants <3 gen taglist will not be automatically added because ik this isn't the norm!

playlist (on spotify <3)

warnings & notes: hello bsd fandom we are up, past childhood trauma, LOTS of hurt/comfort, abandonment issues, swearing, pm!reader, violence (no way), I haven't decided if there's anything explicit yet but will be sure to say something if there is explicit content. umm spoilers ig? very much follows the storyline of bsd but I did that not to be basic but to give more definition to characters such as describing the reaction of characters who did not play big part in an arc's reaction to events in the storyline, I started this fic in January of this year and will mainly just be copying and pasting from there and trying to proofread but know this is basically just a self-insert I have decided to share with the world so don't come for me. this is all based off this one one-shot I wrote months ago if you're dying for a sneak peak. written in 3rd perspective!!

table of contents:

one: i hope to be around (12.26.2024) two: high dive (coming soon <3)

divider by me :)

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

miss oranje's faves: self-recs edition

i'm not used to praising myself bc i am my biggest hater, not my biggest fan, but i was tagged by the lovely @gothcsz to participate in @jolapeno 's 'tootathon' challenge, and i originally was going to pass up the opportunity butttt i suppose i'll *try* to say nice things about myself but i love the people in this fandom so i always enjoy participating in the fun, particularly something that promotes positivity when fandoms can be so toxic sometimes. honestly, i might need to steal this idea and make a positivity challenge for the resident evil fandom (which is what i primarily write for) because we are in need of good vibes…

*because my blog is multi-fandom, my masterlist is getting big overall, so i'm going to link my javi fics and my joel fics (along with my liztober '24 because there are a couple other pedro character fics on there)

i haven't been a part of the pedro pascal fandom for long, so my work here is limited, but i will share a few things:

it's never over (javi p x reader) - a two part fic (part one is from javi's perspective, part two is from reader's)

I really liked the concept for this fic and it was something that I wrote bits and pieces of for a while. I tried to change it to a single pov because i think i’m not someone who does well with pov switches like this, but it never captured the full scope of the story i wanted to tell when i tried to make it only javi’s or only reader’s. Ultimately, while i’d like to add onto this fic because i would like to expand upon reader’s pov, i like the story that i told in the end (i love angst). Maybe there will be a part 3…

2. and for dessert? (javi p x reader) - a short, mildly smutty story about javi and a housekeeper at a hotel

i hated this fic for a while because i got caught up in the numbers but i reread it last night and i was like, ‘okay, the concept is incredibly silly, but i guess in some way, that’s the point’. Anyway, when i looked back and stopped focusing on the numbers, i realized that i actually really like this fic, and probably wouldn’t change anything about it.

3. anniversary antics (joel x reader) - joel and his wife getting it on ... heavy breeding kink here

i wrote this in an hour or so. it just came to me. straight from the smutty brain (which is rare). this is one of the few fics of mine that i re-read and actually think 'oh this is hot'!

4. everything's bigger in texas (joel x reader) - for my liztober celebration! reader loses her virginity to joel and it's a sweet and short smut.

this is my second most popular tumblr post of all time (so it doesn’t need promo here), which is very funny because i almost didn't post this at all. i thought the size kink might be too basic and overdone but i also really wanted to write an 'older' reader as i have a tendency to write younger readers (which is partially because i am 24 and have never been older than 24 vs i have been 21 etc.) and i wanted to get away from the typical innocent virgin thing.

and also, we're gonna get personal here... i'm pretty sure i have vaginismus and so it's really really difficult to have sex. i've been shamed or questioned rather than reassured during situations where i struggle or am entirely unable to. reader in this fic was not specified to have vaginismus because i was trying to keep it light and smutty, flipping it around into a size kink, but it was a bit healing to write tbh. 

I’m pretty sure everyone has already been tagged but i’ll tag some of my mutuals just in case:

@clawdee @evolnoomym @baronessvonglitter @the-mandawhor1an

[earthlybeam]

🎄🎁Merry Christmas everyone🎉✨

✨🪻📜 𝓔𝓵𝓻𝓸𝓷𝓭 📜🪻✨

how would the elves react to this?

↓

↓

↓

Elrond Version below (reader/you are his lover). Featuring what I wrote below is: Building a Snowman (With a Twist), Snowball Fight, Sledging Adventure, Snow Angel.

📜 𝓔𝓵𝓻𝓸𝓷𝓭

Building a Snowman(With a Twist):

✶ The snow had fallen thick and heavy over Rivendell, blanketing the valley in a pristine layer of white. The air was crisp and cold, but the warmth of your enthusiasm had quickly convinced Elrond to step outside with you. He had initially been reserved, his brow furrowed in quiet contemplation as he watched you gather snow, but your infectious energy soon wore him down. With a soft chuckle, you coaxed him into rolling the first snowball, its size growing with each deliberate turn, the cold flakes sticking together in the way only fresh, perfect snow could. Elrond moved with his usual grace, but there was a subtle change in his demeanor as you worked together, a rare flicker of amusement in his usually calm eyes. There was something almost... domestic about the scene. You both built the snowman, stacking the snowballs carefully, Elrond's hands steady and sure as they shared the snow with precision.

✶ When it came time to add the finishing touches, you hesitated for just a moment, an impish glint in your eye. You could tell Elrond was lost in the task— his sharp mind was still focused on the details, his thoughts elsewhere, as usual —but you had something else in mind. You reached for the carrot and, with a playful grin, placed it in a rather unexpected location. Between the snowman's legs. As you stepped back, your breath held in anticipation, you couldn't help but glance at Elrond, wondering how he would react. He froze for just a moment, his usually composed face faltering as his gaze flickered between the snowman and you. His eyes narrowed slightly, and his lips pressed into a thin line, though there was a subtle glimmer of amusement hiding beneath his calm demeanor. It was brief but telling, and you could see the change in him-his reaction was almost imperceptible, but you caught it. "Well," Elrond's voice was smooth, carrying a dry amusement, though he remained stoic, "that is... an unexpected choice." He tilted his head slightly, as though examining the snowman with the same clinical scrutiny he might apply to a piece of ancient lore. "I suppose humor is not beneath even the most dignified of elves," he added, his tone still measured, but you caught the faintest teasing in it.

✶ You couldn't contain your laughter, the sound light and carefree, and Elrond's lips twitched at the edges, his gaze now lingering on you more than the snowman. There was something in the way his eyes softened, a spark of warmth and affection hidden behind the veil of his usual stoicism. You smiled, pleased with the effect you'd had on him, but Elrond's expression remained mostly unchanged. He crossed his arms, his posture regal and composed as always, but there was a glint of mischief in his eyes that suggested he wasn't quite finished with the game. For a moment, the world seemed to stand still, and then Elrond stepped closer, his steps deliberate and graceful as he closed the distance between you. His hand, long and gentle, reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers brushing softly against your skin. The warmth of his touch and the proximity of his body sent a shiver down your spine, and you swallowed, suddenly aware of the magnetic pull between you. He leaned in just enough so that you could feel his breath on your cheek, warm and teasing, and his voice dropped to a soft, affectionate murmur. "I never took you for one to play such tricks love," he said, a teasing smile curling the edges of his lips. "But I suppose that's part of your charm." His tone was rich with affection, but there was something else in it—a quiet intensity that always seemed to accompany his presence.

✶ Before you could respond, his eyes flicked back to the snowman, his gaze sharp as ever, but there was a knowing gleam in them now. "Though," he said, his voice low and almost conspiratorial, "I must point out, my love, that you missed the most important part." Your heart skipped a beat as you followed his gaze. And then you saw it. Beneath the carrot you'd placed so mischievously, Elrond had added two small pebbles. Two perfectly round stones. You froze, blinking in surprise as you realized what he had done. "You've added...?" you began, your breath catching as you tried to hold back a laugh. Elrond's smile deepened, a playful gleam in his eyes as he raised an eyebrow at you. His voice was low and filled with knowing amusement. "It's only fair, is it not? After all, what is a snowman without some proper... proportions?" His teasing smile widened, and before you could fully comprehend the implications, he took a slow step closer to you, his breath warm against your skin. You blinked in surprise, caught off guard by the playful challenge in his voice, but as he leaned in closer, your thoughts scattered. His hand gently cupped your cheek, his touch tender but deliberate, sending a wave of warmth through you. "Now," he whispered, his breath mingling with yours, "as for your choice of decoration, I think you owe me an explanation."

✶ You opened your mouth, but no words came. Elrond's lips found yours in a soft but lingering kiss before you could respond, the kiss both playful and intimate in its warmth. His hands, which had been teasingly hovering over your body, now roamed down your back, pulling you closer as his lips deepened the kiss. It was slow, deliberate, and full of affection. You felt the pull of his presence, the weight of his love and desire for you in each movement, and you melted into him, your hands finding their way to his chest. "You've given me quite a laugh, love," he murmured, his lips brushing against yours, his voice soft with affection but full of mischief. "But I believe this particular game is far from over." As he pulled away just enough to look into your eyes, there was a lingering intensity in his gaze-playful, but with a depth that made your heart race. You could see the affection in his eyes, the care, and the joy he found in your shared moments. The world around you seemed to fade, leaving just the two of you, wrapped in warmth, laughter, and the promise of more shared mischief.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦ ꕤ ၄၃ ꕤ ✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Snowball Fight:

✶ The quiet serenity of Rivendell’s winter landscape had a certain stillness about it, the snowflakes gently falling from the sky, covering the world in a blanket of white. You and Elrond had taken a break from the usual hustle of the day, stepping outside into the crisp air. His usually composed nature was a sharp contrast to your bubbling enthusiasm, and today, you had a plan. “Elrond,” you called, a playful grin spreading across your face as you picked up a handful of snow, packing it carefully into a tight ball. “I challenge you to a snowball fight.” He turned to you, his brow arched slightly as if he hadn’t quite expected the challenge. His expression was unreadable, but you could see the faintest glint of amusement in his eyes, as though he were already calculating his next move. “A snowball fight?” he repeated, his voice low and calm, the usual gravity of his tone still present. “You are aware, my dear, that I don’t lose… easily.”

✶ You couldn’t help but laugh at the way he said it, as though the idea of losing was an impossibility in his mind. But that was exactly why you’d chosen this moment. There was something irresistible about teasing him, seeing him let his guard down just a little bit. “Well, we’ll see about that,” you said, a mischievous glint in your eyes. Before he could respond, you hurled your first snowball at him with a swift motion. Elrond was quicker than you expected. With a smooth movement, he ducked and sidestepped, his movements as fluid as ever. He didn’t break his calm demeanor, but the faintest smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he turned back to face you, his stance relaxed but clearly alert. “You’ll have to do better than that,” he said, his voice a soft challenge, as he knelt down to form his own snowball, his long fingers expertly packing it. Without warning, he threw it with perfect precision, sending the ball speeding toward you. You barely managed to dodge it, the snowball whizzing by just inches from your shoulder. A laugh escaped your lips, your competitive streak kicking into gear as you scrambled to form your next attack. You were quick, but Elrond was quicker. Every move he made was deliberate, graceful, like he’d calculated every possibility in advance. It was like fighting against a strategist, and it made your heart race in a different way.

✶ But then, you saw an opening. His attention momentarily shifted, just a flicker of concentration lost in the wind, and you took your chance. With a swift motion, you threw a snowball at his side, aiming lower than you had before. The snowball hit him with a satisfying thud, knocking him slightly off balance as he stumbled back, a soft chuckle escaping him. “Well played,” Elrond admitted, brushing the snow off his cloak with one hand, his posture still poised even as he stood there, momentarily defeated. His eyes flickered back to you, a soft challenge in them now. “But don’t think I’ll let you win so easily.” Before you could react, he lunged toward you with a surprising speed, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you into the snow. You gasped, caught off guard, as the cold earth pressed against you. For a moment, all you could do was laugh, the sound echoing through the otherwise silent valley. Elrond’s expression was unreadable, but there was a gleam of playful mischief in his eyes. “Now,” he said, his voice low and teasing as he loomed over you, “you will pay for your trickery.” He grinned, and you knew he wasn’t going to make this easy.

✶ As you struggled beneath him, trying to escape the playful trap he had set, Elrond leaned closer, his lips brushing against your ear, his breath warm against your chilled skin. “I suppose,” he murmured with a soft laugh, “this is how you want to play, hm?” The words sent a shiver down your spine. His grip on you tightened slightly, not threatening but possessive in the way only he could manage, and his eyes sparkled with a mixture of competitive fire and something else—something deeper. There was no mistaking the heat in his gaze, the subtle shift from playful to something more charged, as though the snowball fight was only a prelude to something much more intimate. In one swift movement, he rolled with you in the snow, laughing as you both tumbled, the cold surrounding you but somehow never quite managing to cool the heat between you. You were laughing together now, the snow falling around you in a delicate swirl, the world around you as distant as the stars above.

✶ Elrond’s lips met yours suddenly, stealing the breath from your lungs. His kiss was deep and warm, the teasing bite of the snowball fight transforming into something far more intense. You responded in kind, your hands tracing the contours of his shoulders, your bodies tangled together in the snow, both of you shivering, but not from the cold. You broke the kiss with a breathless laugh, your heart racing as you looked up into his face. His smile was soft, a rare and tender thing that sent a rush of warmth through you. “You know, my love,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your cheek, “I believe this particular game is far from over.” He kissed you again, his touch lingering, and in that moment, the snow, the cold, and everything else ceased to matter. All that remained was the two of you—caught up in a battle of wits, strength, and a shared love that was as boundless as the snowy landscape stretching before you.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦ ꕤ ၄၃ ꕤ ✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Sledging Adventure:

✶ The soft glow of a winter afternoon bathed Rivendell in a serene, frosty light, the entire valley blanketed by fresh snow that sparkled like a field of diamonds. It was the perfect day for sledging, or so you thought. You had been trying to convince Elrond to join you for what you knew would be an adventurous, if slightly ridiculous, way to pass the time. At first, he had been hesitant, his usually composed nature clashing with the carefree activity. “Elrond,” you said, trying to hide your grin, “you do know that sledging is an art, right? One of the oldest forms of winter fun.” He gave you a skeptical look, his brows furrowed in that way they always did when something didn’t align with his dignified sensibilities. “I have no doubt, but I fail to see the necessity of such… frivolous pursuits. Surely there are more dignified ways to enjoy winter.” You smirked, your eyes gleaming with mischief. “Frivolous? Hardly. I promise you, you’ll enjoy it. It’ll be fun.” A moment of silence passed, Elrond standing tall in the doorway, his cloak swaying lightly in the wind, a quiet storm of thoughts behind his calm exterior. Then, with a resigned sigh, he finally spoke. “Very well. But I’ll not be made a fool of.” You nearly burst into laughter at the thought of Elrond, master of Rivendell, unsure of how to handle something as simple as a sled. But you weren’t about to waste the opportunity. You led him to the hill, both of you standing before a sleek, wooden sled—its surface smooth and inviting, already dusted with a layer of fresh snow.

✶ Elrond, as ever, maintained his composure. His posture was stiff, almost too proper as he settled beside you on the sled, his long, elegant fingers gripping the sides of the sled in a way that could only be described as overly formal. The sight made you giggle. “It’s just a sled, Elrond,” you teased, nudging him gently with your shoulder. “No need to be so proper. Just relax and enjoy it.” He gave you a dry look, his regal features betraying a hint of disapproval, but there was something else in his eyes—amusement, perhaps? Or the tiniest spark of curiosity. “I fail to see how the situation requires anything less than the utmost formality,” he replied, his voice calm but tinged with humor. You smiled at his response, realizing that despite his reluctance, he wasn’t entirely immune to the appeal of something fun and spontaneous. With a slight push, you both began to slide down the hill. The wind rushed past you, sharp and biting, but exhilarating all the same. Elrond’s grip on the sled tightened, his usually steady hands holding on as though he feared being thrown off. At first, he maintained his composed demeanor, eyes wide with mild surprise, but he said nothing. His cloak billowed out behind him, his hair whipping in the wind, but the elegance with which he tried to hold himself on the sled was almost comical.

✶ As the sled picked up speed, Elrond’s posture stiffened, his gaze darting between the snow-covered path ahead and you. His breath came in shallow, controlled bursts, but you could see the tension in his shoulders, the slight furrow in his brow as he tried to maintain control over the rapidly accelerating sled. The wind howled past your ears, and for a moment, the only sound was the crunch of snow beneath the sled. Suddenly, the sled hit a bump in the hill, and before either of you could brace yourselves, it launched into the air. There was a split second where everything seemed to freeze—Elrond’s face going slightly pale, his grip tightening as he tried to hold on. And then, with a thud, you both crashed into the deep snow below, the force of the fall sending snow flying everywhere as you tumbled into a heap. The world around you was a blur of white, snow clinging to your hair and clothes as you tried to untangle yourselves from each other. You found yourself laughing, breathless from the unexpected crash, your body half-buried in snow. Elrond was beside you, snow dusting his cloak, his usually immaculate appearance now somewhat disheveled. His hair, usually perfectly in place, was wild, strands of it flying in every direction. Elrond sat up, brushing the snow off his cloak and hair, his usual stoic expression faltering as he gave you a sidelong glance. His lips twitched, just barely, and then—much to your surprise—he let out a soft laugh, a sound so rare from him that it sent a warm thrill through your chest. “I was under the impression,” he said, his voice smooth but laced with amusement, “that this would be a quiet, controlled activity.” He raised an eyebrow, as if waiting for you to admit that you had, in fact, tricked him into an uncharacteristically chaotic experience.

✶ You chuckled, shaking the snow from your own hair. “See? I told you it would be fun.” You grinned at him, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “I told you that once you let go of being so… dignified, you’d see how thrilling it could be.” Elrond studied you for a long moment, his piercing gaze softening slightly. There was something different in the way he looked at you now—something less guarded, more willing to embrace the spontaneous joy of the moment. “Perhaps,” he said slowly, his voice lighter than usual, “you were right.” Before you could respond, Elrond stood and brushed more snow off his cloak, turning toward the sled. “But I think,” he added, his voice now carrying a note of playful challenge, “that you might have underestimated me.” His eyes sparkled with renewed mischief as he tugged the sled toward a steeper hill. “Let’s see if you can keep up,” he said with a sly grin, his tone both playful and confident. You felt a surge of excitement at his words, knowing this was far from over. As you both climbed the steeper slope, the air colder, the energy between you electric, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of affection for him—his usual calm, dignified persona melting away with each turn of the sled. Elrond might have been a lord, but in this moment, he was no different than you: caught up in the fun, the freedom, and the unexpected joy of letting go. And when you both finally launched yourselves down the hill again, faster than before, the thrill of the ride, the wind in your hair, and the sound of your shared laughter filled the air.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦ ꕤ ၄၃ ꕤ ✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Snow Angel:

✶ The soft, crisp air of winter enveloped the two of you as you stood outside in the freshly fallen snow, a peaceful blanket of white stretching across the valley of Rivendell. The snowflakes danced lazily from the sky, catching in your hair, on your lashes, and covering every surface in a delicate layer of frost. It was one of those days where the world seemed to stand still, where everything felt calm and serene. And yet, there you were, standing beside Elrond, ready to do something that might, just might, challenge his usually composed and dignified nature. You turned to him, your voice light and playful as you made your suggestion. “Elrond, I think we should make snow angels.” For a moment, Elrond stood still, his gaze focused on you with that ever-present, calculating look, as though he were deciding whether or not you had truly lost your mind. Then, after a long pause, he raised an eyebrow, a barely perceptible twitch of amusement pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Snow angels?” he repeated, his tone dripping with skepticism. “I never thought I’d live to see the day when such a simple activity would be suggested to me by an elf of your standing.” You couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction, the corners of your lips curling into a grin. “What’s wrong with snow angels? They’re fun, relaxing, and besides, they’re part of what makes winter so magical. You just lie in the snow and—”

✶ Before you could finish, Elrond cut you off with a slight shake of his head, his usually composed expression betraying a hint of bemusement. “I find it hard to believe that such an endeavor could be considered dignified, but,” he said, his voice lowering in that way it always did when he was giving in to something despite himself, “I suppose a moment of… frivolity might not be entirely without merit.” You felt a burst of triumph at his reluctant agreement and took his hand to lead him toward the fresh snow. There was something utterly charming about seeing Elrond—Lord of Rivendell, wise and composed beyond measure—suddenly put in the position of someone who had to embrace the innocence of such a simple, childlike pleasure. You fell into the snow first, your laughter ringing out as you spread your arms and legs wide, creating a perfect angel in the pristine white expanse. You sighed happily, the chill of the snow contrasting with the warmth in your chest. There was something so freeing about it—the joy of letting go and becoming part of the landscape, if only for a moment. You glanced up, eyes twinkling with amusement.

✶ Elrond stood back for a moment, observing you with a small smile that tugged at the corners of his lips. He seemed to be deep in thought, his brow furrowed in concentration. Finally, he lowered himself to the snow, but true to his nature, he did so with careful, deliberate movements, almost as though he were about to perform some ceremonial act rather than simply lying in the snow. He stretched out his arms and legs, moving with the precision and grace that defined him, and in that moment, the snow beneath him became less a place for fun and more a canvas for a masterwork. Your eyes lingered on him, watching as he created his angel, his movements so controlled, so deliberate, that the end result looked less like a snow angel and more like a symbol of elegant, serene grace—a figure that could have easily belonged in one of Rivendell’s grandest halls, not on a snowy hillside. When he finally sat up, brushing the snow from his cloak and his hair, he surveyed his work with a proud smile, almost as though he had just completed a masterpiece. “It seems I have crafted an angel fit for the halls of Rivendell,” he said, a glint of pride in his eyes.

✶ You chuckled softly, lying back to take in the sight of his angel—a picture of precision and refinement—and then glanced over at your own. Yours was certainly far less refined, the snow around it a little messier, your form a little less perfectly formed. But it was natural, free, and far more in the spirit of a true snow angel. You smirked and pointed to your own creation. “I think mine’s much more… authentic, don’t you?” you teased. “It’s got character. Yours is a little too perfect.” Elrond raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Perfection,” he said, his voice full of playful wisdom, “is often overrated.” You laughed, but before you could respond, an impish idea crossed your mind, something mischievous that had been brewing since the moment you saw the playful glint in his eyes. Without warning, you scooped up a handful of snow and threw it directly into Elrond’s face. The snow exploded against him, and his expression shifted in surprise, the cool flakes tumbling from his brow as he blinked rapidly. “Ah,” he said with mock indignation, brushing the snow from his cloak, “so this is how you repay me for my artistic efforts?” You couldn’t help but grin, your heart racing from the playful exchange. But before he could retaliate, you leapt forward, tackling him back into the snow, laughing wildly as you both landed in a tangle of limbs. Snow exploded in every direction as the two of you rolled, your bodies moving together, trying to outmaneuver one another in the snow. Elrond’s laughter, rich and warm, rang in your ears, rare and carefree, a sound that felt like a gift. You could feel his strength as he tried to gain the upper hand, his movements fluid and controlled, even as the snow piled around you both.

✶ In the end, you found yourself straddling him, both of you covered in snow, panting from the exertion and the sheer joy of the moment. Elrond grinned up at you, eyes twinkling with mischief, his usually regal demeanor replaced by something much lighter, something undeniably endearing. “You’ve certainly made this winter more entertaining,” he murmured, his voice filled with affection as he reached up to brush some snow from your hair. The touch was gentle, tender, and the warmth in his eyes made your heart flutter. Despite the cold surrounding you both, the warmth between you was undeniable, and as you smiled down at him, the world seemed to fade away. In the quiet after your laughter, Elrond pulled you closer, kissing you with a brief, heated touch, his lips still tasting faintly of snow. “Perhaps,” he whispered against your lips, his voice soft and teasing, “you should challenge me more often.”

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦ ꕤ ၄၃ ꕤ ✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

[tparker48]

Request for annonymous

The weekend was supposed to be a week of relaxation, filled with shows for Milai to binge and snack on popcorn. But that all changed when Rad shoved a Mathematics final into his face. As if handling chemistry wasn't hard enough. Saturday was spent calculating his professor’s what if problems; Sunday's focusing on how to bring them together. He wrote down his answers enough for Rad to understand, all he had to do was write it down.

He packed the assignment into a file, emailing it to Rad. He thought that was the end of it, that is, until morning arrived. Rad had sent him a text to meet him in the gym, said he had a stereo project for Milai to see. Of course he did. Arriving at the gym, He followed Rad into the heart of the gym, stepping into the locker rooms.

Sitting along the floor was a leather box, Guarded by Rad’s friends.

"This is the stereo you were talking about?" Milai eyed the small box.

"You bet,” Rad replied, “the boys have been saying it's been having shitty quality, can barely handle the ox.”

Milai cocked a brow, approaching the box from its side. He eyed the belted patterns along the corner of its faces, tracing them as he moved to the middle of the structure. A panel creaked open, and he peered inside. No cassette deck, no wires, not even a plug.

"I don't see anything in here! Are you sure this is even a stereo?"

"Nope,” Rad said, “but it sure will come close to being one!"

Milai jerked as the rubbery hide of a sneaker tackled behind him, casting him into the mouth of the panel. Darkness swallowed the light as the panel closed, a loud clunk echoing on the other side. He raised his arms ahead, barely able to see the silhouette of his fingers through the dimmed lighting beneath the panel.

A tilt along the side of the box slid him to the opposite wall, laughter filling the void like a pack of hyenas.

"I told you this shit would work!" Rad’s voice muffled beyond the walls, joined by the snickering of his friends.

"Rad!” Milai banged against the wall. “What is the meaning of this?!"

"You gave me a failing grade, you little shit nugget! The professor’s stupid computer claimed it as plagiarized."

"You sent it as it was?! You were supposed to write it down!"

"That's what I have you for, nerd, and you did a shitty job at it!" Rad replied. "But that's good, you just gave me an excuse I can use for the coach to keep my spot on the team."

The floor yanked from under Milai, slamming him against the leathered wall. Cement grinds against the fabric below, a hard thud striking the walls as he spun in place. Another thud impacted the box before a knock lingered beyond the walls, Rusted creaks following.

“Rad!” A scruffier voice rumbled above. “Thought I told you to pack your things."

"Cut me some slack, coach, I just wanna give you and the team an apology gift.” The box jerked forward. Feast your eyes on this bad boy!”

“A box?”

“Not just any box,” rad added, “A state of the art isolation box, fit for all your needs.”

Milai banged against the leathered interior, his blows absorbing into its sturdy walls.

“You must think 'cause I'm old you can take me for a fool.” The coach said. “You really think a box is gonna change my mind.”

"Not at all, sir. It’s something I’d want you to consider."

Watery steps echoed in the distances, herds of and groans filling the void.

“And it seems I just made it in time. What do ya say, coach, save your nostrils the wrath of the team, or let it stink up the place.”

“You’ve got some nerds talking to me like that.” The coach growled, his words rumbling through the box.

“I mean no ill will, coach. Cross my heart.” The floor beneath Milai flung from him off his feet, tilting vertically before the coach groaned outside. “You’d better hurry, I can already hear the trumpets from here.”

Rad’s steps grew hollow, a creak from the locker room door signaling his departure. Milai stared at the hollow ceiling, rubbing his aching rear.

“I swear that boy stresses the hell out of me.” The coach said above, the walls shifting as Milai fell to the opposite wall. "Looks sturdy enough, this damn thing better be worth it than that brat’s yammering."

The box seesawed as heavy steps filled the atmosphere. Milai could barely stand, the floor’s firm jerks bullying him from wall to wall like a pinball. It brushed him into a corner, and he clung to the dented strips in the wall, holding it like the railing on a theme park ride.

A loud thud boomed from outside, and the sound of running water overcame the silence. Chatters that were once distant now surround the dark tomb talking about scrimmages and favorite plays. They were in the showers. The team’s showers. The floor drifted as he became weightless, box slamming on the ground with a wet splash.

"Christmas came early boys!" The coach announced, roping the chattering players to silence. "A little elf's brought you all a little present for your aching tushies."

The box thrusts forward, the far wall catching Milai as it spun somewhere ahead. Slowly it came to a stop, and Watered steps echoed around. The ceiling rattled before the circular opening tore off, light bursting inside like a flash grenade. However the moment of light was brief, as a mountainous mass eclipsed the opening.

"Now I don't have to tell you overgrown buffaloes how to use a toilet." The coach’s hide slid over the opening, his silky sack drooping inside. They over Milai like a string of snot, its meloned testicle threatening to droop closer with the slightest shift. "I’ll keep this simple, if any of you has to so much as crack a gasket, you direct all that to this box."

Fingers peeled a mound from the other, its shriveled sphincter blossoming from its cleft like a flower. Its folds quivered, before a gale of flatulence rushed into the bowl. Its warmth blanketed over Milai, spreading across the box like a morning fog. His nostrils screamed, His lungs tightening to hold the tiny sample of fresh air contained within them.

Beyond the walls, groans echoed from the surrounding players, as if his pain transmitted to them.

"Can it! I've faced weeks smelling your stink bombs, you can handle hearing a bit of mine." The coach squeezed another burst, peeling from the opening with a rough squeak. "Alright dismissed! Get those raw dogs of yours washed, All I want to smell by the you’re all done is the fabreeze dispenser!"

Shorts pulled over the hairy hide before it vanished over the edge, leaving a skylight in the middle of the ceiling. For a moment, Milai’s lungs could breathe again, though tainted from the coach's foul odor. Shadow danced from the opening, Chattering returned.

"He wants us to use this dainty thing?" One player said, pressing a foot against its side.

"Bullshit, the thing's tin can, it could barely hold the old man!" Another chimed.

Chattering increased, watered steps funneling closer. The smell of lavender seeped into his nostrils as another rear eclipsed the opening, droplets of water pattering from its round spheres like rain.

"Look guys, we can sit here and complain about the coach's..questionable tactics. But.." The player paused, a burst of air erupting from the hole, carrying with it water droplets as they struck Milai. "I, for one, am not going to challenge that. And I suggest you all do the same less you wanna do bear crawls in the hot sun again."

The player peeled from the box, light illuminating the walls once more. Milai pawed against the leathered floor, coughing to cast out the tainted air.

Hell no, I'm not doing that again, my jock nearly gave me a rash with all that crawling." a player said.

"Nearly? Mine damn near gave me a wedgie!" Another chimed.

Their steps approached, blocking the ceiling light like pillars. Milai clambered to his feet, coughing at the pungent odor that stuck to him like cologne.

“Hey!..” He said between breaths. “There’s in here!..no more!”

Nothing, not even a glance over the circular rim. The dimmed light turned black as another rear hovered overhead. Its mounds scrunched together like unopened loaf of bread, Gyrating with a shift of the player’s weight. Milai called to the descending player, but they were drowned out as flesh skidded against the opening.

Fingers peeled its sides, the eye of the ass casting its judgement to the interior of the box. Milai banged against the walls, his words bouncing off them like an echo chamber. The player’s anus cocked, and a sewery gale flowed inside. Its air was as ripe as a left out trash can, loud and wet as it invaded his lungs.

The ass rose, and another took its place, carrying with it a cacophony of smell no man should ever witness.

This parade of flatulence continued for minutes, asses narrow and wide passing over the opening like the sun hidden away by the shower's walls. With each ass that docked overhead, it brought with it another warmth, another torture he had to wait to disperse or absorb into the walls. It was beyond unbearable.

Milai pulled off his shirt, tainted sweat in its fabric dampening his fingers like a wet towel. He didn't know much he could take from this. This shitty container was going to be a tomb for his sinuses. Another wave washed him, rumbling the floor before it wisped to the edge.

In that instant, everything went silent, chatters echoing above. Was it over? Truly over?

"Out the room! The atom bomb's coming!" A player announced.

Milai widened. "Atom who?"

Commotion erupted from the players outside, the top of their domes zipped past the rim.

"Hey, wait! Don’t leave!" Milai banged against the edge. "Let me out of this thing!"

No response, the sounds of their watery steps fading. Curtains draw as silence brewed, ;leaving behind only the sound of the shower’s running faucets..

"Do they always have to keep saying that?" A voice said, heavy steps coming from behind. "I swear one milkshake mishap and you’re branded for life!"

Milai eyed the opening, focusing on the player’s steps. He couldn’t see anyone past its ridge, but he could feel their presence in the air, like it was embedded in his bones. The heavy steps came to a halt, water droplets trickling over the open. The ceiling light shifted as a kick struck the side of the box, and the blocky silhouette of a player cast overhead.

The player’s gaze tilted, a groan escaping from them. "Coach said we have to use this? He couldn’t have asked for a bigger one?" A loud rumble pierced the air, rippling his barreled gut. “This thing won’t last a second, But I guess it’ll have to do.”

The player turns around, the bulk of his gut shifting to his ample mounds like a flipped coin. He lowered himself onto the box, and he could almost hear it scream. The walls buckled, the sound of tearing leather echoing from the walls.

Veins streaked across the walls, light bleeding inside. Milai scrambled to them, sliding an arm through, to wiggle himself out. Only his shoulder could squeeze through, the walls pressing against his cheek.

The metal hide popped as the crevice split horizontally. He pulled his arm just as their ends clanged together, tumbling to the middle of the container.

The ceiling creaked louder, the cracks blistering up the walls. They climbed to the top of the box, and the ceiling bucked. Milai barely had time to move before its rim met his palms. His knees met his stomach, his as burning beneath the player’s weight.

"Great, just great, I can feel the bottom in my crack." The player groaned, Milai’s hair sticking to his cleft as it rubbed in place. “Stupid leather’s lighting a fire in my ass.”

Bubbles oozed from its fleshy crevices, forcing the ring to distend. Its roar erupted into the box, and a foul warmth spewed upon his back. The ass above fluttered in his palms, its flatulence vibrating his palms like a motor boat.

The gas sealed with a grotesque squelch, the ass shuttering. "Ah, that's much better."

"Come on.." Milai gritted beneath the player's weight. He could hear the container creak louder, the edge of the rim dipping as it pressed against his head. If this keeps up he'll..No, he has to find a way out of this thing.

He slid his palms along the edge, ushering from beneath the dipping end of the rim. He looked back to the blanket of ass flesh above, eyeing the empty space. He didn’t like the idea, but it was better than being crushed. He slid a foot from beneath him, a burn overwhelming his limbs as they began to shake.

With little strength he had left, he kicked himself away, splaying against the cleft of the player’s ass as the rim met the bottom.

"Damn thing barely lasted a minute, it’s a flapjack more than a box now." The player rang above. His hole spewed its foul breath into the tattered box, warming Milai’s back.

He pawed against the floor beneath him, crawling inside a pocket of air. He barely gained an inch before air fluttered beneath the player’s taint, flesh flattening him. The hole erupted again, droplets collecting at Milai’s neck forcing him to wince. Amidst its bubbly release, a door creaked in the distance, a familiar voice streaking the air.

“Yo Atom, Hurry in it there!" Rad said, dripping with a snarked tone.

"You of all people know not to call me that, you dunce!” He snapped back.

"Ooo excuse me, sorry I Interrupted your little pampering.”

Milai writhed beneath the player, focusing on the small patch of light seeping between his legs. Atom’s weight shifted, his anus squashing upon his waist.

“Thought coach told you to beat it!” Atom said. “I don’t need any more trouble than having a deadbeat like you talking with me.”

“Coach turned over a new leave, I'm back on the team.” Rad mocked. “Even sent me come fetch you from your little..heh, gas problem before you stink the place.”

“Bullshit!”

“Best believe, I’m back in the game baby.” Rad replied. “But hey, if you don’t you can always just sit here and continue, buut It’d be a shame to see you running those laps on the field. Coach was watching those hills pretty close the last I saw him."

Atom groaned, vibrating through the walls like thunder. "Damn it just…gimme a second."

The player’s legs tightens, the soft tissue of his taint smother against Milai’s cheek. Ripples channeled toward his anus, and he was poured in his flatulence. It radiated his backside like the heat waves from an oven, enveloping him in its musk from head to toe. He pawed at the small gap between the player's legs, hoping to squeeze past the bulk of the player’s backsack and into the open. but to no avail.

The hole shriveled in size, its wind concentrating into a singular stream as his clothes stuck to his skin. As it rose from the bowl, his leg jerked as his foot caught along one of its folds.

“Wait..” He dangled beneath the player, the anus dragging him between the bubbled mounds like a predator with a fresh catch. The hills of flesh climbed over his body, swallowing up to his head. Wait wai-!"

"Can't believe I have to rush at a time like this, you didn't see me nagging about their time with the box." Atom scratched idly at his rear, a fire stirring between them. "Now I've got a damn itch.."

He straightened himself, concentrating on his glutes. With a firm squeeze, a burst of air fluttered from his cheeks, escaping into the open air.

"Mph!"

"Huh?" He snapped back, finding only the empty shower curtains. "thought I heard somethin' just now.."

He scanned the neighboring showers, before looking toward the container. Its corners were mangled, veins stretching along either side as a butt print carved into the metal hide of the lid. He turned toward the door, Rad peering over his shoulder. He thought he was looking at the jerseys toppled in the corner, but his gaze laid on the box, a smirk stretching to his ear.

“The hell you staring at?!” He nudged a shoulder into Rad. “Wanna sniff or something?!”

“Like I’d want to sniff the ass of the atom bomb.”

“You son of..call me that again and I’ll turn you as flat as this box.”

“You could, you definitely could, however who’s scent will the coach be smelling?” His sly grin widened, his eyes Peering into Atom. “Wouldn’t be mine, but I’m sure whoever was here last will surely get the extra laps. don’t you think, Atom bomb?”

His face scrunched, his fingers tensing. He shot an arm to Rad's jersey, ensnaring it into his fist. He held the other mid air, the tip of Rad’s nose grazing across his knuckles. Even now the brat held his stupid grin, puckering his lips as if he were going to kiss his fist.

Whistling blew from the cracked door, the coach barking plays as they reverberated the cemented walls

“What’ll it be, bomby boy.” Rad said in a singsong, cocking a brow.

Atom held his fist closer, his body yearning to shrivel Rad’s face like a lemon. He shoved him away, sent the shambled box to the far wall with a sluggish kick.

“You’re lucky I like this sport.” He growled beneath his breath.

“And the sport likes you, Atom!” Rad’s smirked. “I do too!”

“Can it!”

He hoists his shorts to his waist, his briefs wrapping around his rear, but something felt off. It was tighter than they usually were, pinching between his mounds like a wedge. He plucked at one its ends, drawing a cheek from its layer as it spilled over the flaps. The tightened sensation lessened, reduced to softened pressure as his mound clapped together.

“I swear this thing’s been bugging me.”

“Seems like you got a real nuisance up your ass, ay Atom bomb?”

“Not as much a nuisance as you are!”

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Keepsafes

Fandom: Batman, DC Comics

Summary: AU where Martha and Bruce survive, and they adopt the batkids.

Chapters: 4/?

Characters: Bruce Wayne, Thomas Wayne, Martha Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Harvey Dent, Dick Grayson, Cassandra Cain, David Cain, Talia al Ghul, Damian Wayne, Jason Todd, Tim Drake

Relationships: Thomas Wayne/Martha Wayne/Alfred Pennyworth, BruHarvey, BruTalia

Additional Tags: Canon Divergent AU, Hurt/Comfort, Bruce Wayne is Not Batman, Angst, Alfred Pennyworth Knows All, Bruce Wayne Only Has One Child, Bruce Wayne is Not An Only Child, Bi Bruce Wayne

Chapter Four: Fight and Flight

Gabi followed Bruce out onto the trail behind the house. “How are you doing, Bruce? You’ve been awful quiet this whole walk,” Gabi whispered. 

Bruce picked up a big branch and used it as a walking stick. “I’m just thinking,” Bruce whispered, “Be careful. You might have to hold my hand through here. There’s a cave. It’s supposed to be closed off, but—.” Bruce turned around and reached for her hand. Gabi smiled and held Bruce’s hand. “I don’t want you to fall in.”

“Thank you, Bruce. I wasn’t asking you about—. I was asking in general,” Gabi explained. 

“Not so good, I guess. I always feel like something bad is going to happen, but I’m tired of being scared about it,” Bruce confessed, “Everything scares me now…”

“Like everything reminds you of that night?” Gabi questioned as they walked around a log and over a large rock. 

“Yeah… Aunt Gabi, is it ever gonna stop being this way?” Bruce whispered. Gabi frowned as Bruce tapped a board with his walking stick. “We’re gonna go around your way.” 

“Okay… And Bruce, have you ever thought about talking to a doctor—.”

“I don’t want to talk to a doctor. I want to be prepared the next time something bad happens,” Bruce sighed. 

Gabi grew silent as she pondered Bruce’s reply, and she quietly discussed different ways to approach the issue. “Do you mind if I talk to your parents about this when we get back? I think I have an idea, but I want to see how they’d feel about it first before I tell you,” Gabi explained. Bruce nodded. Let’s go back. Okay?” 

“Alright, Aunt Gabi,” Bruce replied, still holding onto her hand as he turned around.

**

Martha listened to Gabi explain her thoughts while Thomas wrote something down in his journal. They occasionally shifted their glance to Jacob and Alfred taking turns playing tennis with Bruce. “I don’t know. Couldn’t that make things worse? Introduce him to new worst-case scenarios?” Martha asked. 

“Well, it might… But he’d be prepared for it. I know that doesn’t remove the fear, and I don’t think that part of him can be easily fixed, but I know a first aid class is a good start to giving him some of his power back,” Gabi replied, “I didn’t say any of this to Bruce. I wanted to see how you two felt about it first.” 

“Thomas?” Martha asked. “Are you paying attention?” 

Thomas looked up and nodded. “Gabi’s right. And I think it’d be a good opportunity to organize something for the community, too. Maybe something good can come out of all of this. I was writing down a list of calls we need to make if I want to make this work,” Thomas replied. Martha reached for Thomas, and he scooped her hand up and leaned forward to kiss her knuckles. “Unless you don’t want him to…”

“I—. I’m scared, too. I don’t—. Can we talk to Bruce about it first? It’ll give me some time to think,” Martha replied, “And Gabi, I appreciate all your help. I never want you to think that I don’t. I’m glad my brother married you. It’s the best gift he’s ever given me… A sister… And pretty soon, a niece or nephew.” 

“Oh, yeah! Congratulations, Gabi!” Thomas exclaimed. “I couldn’t be more excited for you. Really, I couldn’t. You’ll love being a mother. I’m sure of it.” 

“Thank you. I’m looking forward to the final trimester, so I don’t have to worry all the time. It’s so early on, but I figured you both ought to know,” Gabi smiled. Thomas set his journal aside. 

“Oh, the worrying never ends,” Martha laughed, “But it’s so worth it. It really is… And you’re so strong. Boy or girl, they’re going to be a force of nature.” 

Bruce walked over and quietly stood off to the side, waiting for an invitation to come closer. “Bruce, do you want to sit with me for a little while?” Martha asked. Bruce nodded and sat beside her, while she popped the top off of a soda and handed it to him. “Gabi had an idea. She said that you might benefit from taking a first aid class to help you feel more in control in an emergency situation, and I—.”

“Could I?” Bruce interrupted without meaning to. 

Martha looked at Thomas, and he shrugged. “Sure, lovey. Of course, but I think I’d feel better if I went with you,” Martha suggested. Bruce set his soda aside and embraced her. “That’s okay with you?” 

“Uh-huh! We can do it together!” Bruce exclaimed. Martha smiled as tears welled up in her eyes, and she swallowed hard to suppress them. “Thank you, Aunt Gabi!” 

** 

After Gabi and Jacob left, Bruce returned to school. Even before the shooting, Bruce had a difficult time connecting with other children his age. Most of them ridiculed him for being awkward, but he didn’t mind it until the children started using the shooting in the alley as ammunition to torment him. He’d been back for three days before a group of children chased him on the playground with confetti cannons, shouting Crime Alley over and over until they cornered him. They kept laughing and popping off confetti cannons until Bruce snapped and threw a punch. And he kept punching until the yard duties pulled him away from the group. 

He screamed and turned his face into the male security guard’s shoulder as he sobbed hysterically. He didn’t stop until Martha arrived with Alfred. Alfred cleaned and dressed Bruce’s knuckles before affectionately brushing a few tears from Bruce’s cheek with his thumb. “Master Bruce, I think there’s something to be learned from this,” Alfred whispered. Bruce braced up, waiting for Alfred to chastise them. “You weren’t afraid. Were you, Master Bruce?” Alfred winked, provoking a smile from Bruce. Alfred replied with a gentle brush of his knuckles against Bruce’s chin. 

Martha exited the office with a satisfied grin on her face as she reached for Bruce. He ran into her arms, and she held him on her hip. “Let’s go pick your father up,” Martha whispered. 

“Am I in trouble?” Bruce asked. 

“Given the circumstances… No. We’ll talk more after we get home,” Martha replied as she kissed his cheek. “Are we ready to go?” Bruce nodded as she set him down. He held her hand as they left the office, and Alfred drove them to the doctor’s office to pick up Thomas. He was outside talking to a man on forearm crutches. They were smiling and laughing. Thomas looked out toward the street and pointed at Martha and Bruce before waving. Martha smiled, but it was the kind of smile she'd give to someone to take the bite off of bad news. Thomas’ smile faded as he realized the time of day, and he nodded at her. 

Thomas looked at his friend, and they parted ways before Bruce and Martha crossed the street to get to him. Thomas hugged Bruce. “What’s going on? Why aren’t you at school?” Thomas questioned. 

“Can we talk about it at home, honey?” Martha asked. 

“Alright. Well, Bruce, are you okay at least?” Thomas questioned as he looked Bruce over. “Looks like you’re all there. Oh, but you’re a little scraped up in the knuckle department. Alfred’s bandaging work, I see. Did ya win, Champ?”

[maya-caffrey]

Rain, Cinnamon, Cologne, and Conditioner

pairing: sirius black x reader

summary: Amortentia week is always chaotic. Especially so when you're lab partners with longtime frenemy sirius black

warnings: Language maybe, fic from reader's pov

a/n: been forever since i wrote for a marauder, lets hope this is acceptable 🙏🏻

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Although Slughorn certainly meant well, there was simply nothing that one could do to hate him a bit less during Amortentia week. Dramatic breakups preceded by "What do you MEAN you smell my sister's perfume!?", and hasty love confessions followed by immediate regret, for a spectator like me this was the best week ever at Hogwarts.

The class smelled faintly of rain and cinnamon to me, a lingering effect of the neighboring cauldrons.

"I honestly have no idea what I'm supposed to be smelling here, like, I am certain no one has smelled this exact smell before."

"James, come on, that is clearly Lavender."

"What?"

"I smell Lavender!" she said, weirdly enthusiastic about the smell.

"Lily, honey, say that again but slowly."

It took her a minute before she realized. Even the smartest people get confuddled sometimes. Of course, she'll never know what it smelled like to him.

Somewhere in the back, I saw Lucius Malfoy almost poke some poor kid's eye out with his wand, and next to his table was Severus Snape, staring menacingly into a cauldron that definitely did not have Amortentia in it. He was a weird kid. Creeps me out still.

Anyway, that brings us to Sirius and I, who couldn't agree on who gets to put the sneezewort in.

"After you," I said, not wanting to bear the brunt of what will follow. You see, Sneezewort gets its name from the fact that whenever it's added to a potion, it produces a puff of smoke that causes those closest to sneeze for a good entire minute.

"Oh, no, go ahead. I insist."

"Well, I insist more."

"I insist the most, then."

"Sirius, come on."

"Hey, you started it!"

"Well, you end it. I don't want to keep sneezing!"

"Oh, good, because it's my favorite hobby, sneezing incessantly."

There was no compromise in sight. That is, until-

"Alright Sirius, I'll tell you what. You convince Peter to do this, I'll get Marlene to go with you to Hogsmeade. For real this time."

"Please, I don't need you to be my wingman, I'm perfectly charming all on my own, thank you very much," he said, signature smirk decorating his face.

"You know you need my hel-"

"Yes I do, I was kidding, thank you so much, I love you."

I shook my head and laughed while waiting for Peter to take whatever bait Sirius was laying out. Sure, he was presumptuous and annoying, and the banter was endless, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't look forward to it every day at this point.

After Remus begrudgingly dragged a red-in-the-face Peter away from our table, we stirred the potion 3 times, and all that was left was to add the pieces of Lovelog. We added them at the same time and instinctively held our breaths and waited for the potion to turn pink, which it did. However, it didn't work.

"Dude, I smell nothing."

"Yes, thanks for pointing it out, (Y/n). Extremely astute observation. 10 points to Gryffindor."

"Oh, okay, sure, be all haughty after fucking up the potion."

"I fucked up? That's presumptuous! For all we know, you screwed up."

"Please, I used Slughorn's recipe down to the smallest detail there is no way it was me. You were the one who kept taking off to 'charm Marlene with your smile' every 5 minutes."

"Hey. I'm playing the long game and it will work. Eventually. Just- Admit that you screwed up, please?"

"Oh, no, no we are not doing this. Remus, could you come here, please?"

"Me? Oh, no, love. I am not getting involved with this," said Remus, vaguely gesturing in our general direction.

James threw a raisin-looking thing at Sirius' head to get his attention which met its mark, followed by a faint 'ow'.

"Oi dickhead! Lily says you're potion's working fine. She smells Lavender."

"Well dip me in milk and call me a cookie 'cause I cannot smell anything for the life of me over that fruity conditioner of yours," said Sirius, in an annoyingly accusatory tone that set me over the edge because well first of all fuck you. second of all-

"Oh, you're one to talk Mr I-must-use-the-entire-bottle-of-cologne. You smell like an axe showroom" Yeah, get his ass, me. "Also, I didn't use conditioner today, you pompous dick."

"Yeah? Well, get ready to feel stupid because I ran out of cologne yesterday. Ha. In your face." Wait, what?

Silence.

Contemplative silence.

A whole lot of good old silence.

Faces contorting in ways like never before as we unpack what just happened, in sweet, painful, silence.

"(Y/n) did you-"

"Uh-uh. Yep. Apparently. And you, uh,"

"Big time, yes."

"Oh, okay, so, uh, what now?"

"We could talk about it?"

Sirius Black wants to "talk it out". Yeah, we don't got this.

"Hey morons, you need to fu-"

"Yeah, thank you, Remus. We got it." "Yeah, Cheers, mate."

[misslycoris]

THANK YOU AND GOODNIGHT!

I CAN FINALLY LEAVE! MARTHA I'M COMING HOME SWEETIE

But in all seriousness I thank you all for sticking through Signed, Alastor, there had been times when I was just completely over it and stopped writing and yet through it all your comments really helped on getting rid the annoying effects of writer's block. Stick around if you wanna hear my yappings and a few details about this story in general, or not, it's been great having you guys as my audience either way.

• In an Alternate Universe Somewhere...

Squeaks and George were never even planned right until a few days after the supposed release of this fic. I've mentioned this in the first chapter as a passing comment but I wasn't kidding when I said I wrote eight chapters worth of content about a different plot. It wasn't until a few days before the release of the first episode of Hazbin that I completely scrapped it in favor of the current plot of Signed, Alastor. I was thankful that I did because this was the first fic that I truly hauled my shit together and made a whole ass organizer and timeline chart.

How different was the plot? Basically, the story starts with Alastor meeting the reader again after having them tailor his suit, they were previously close friends and the story's about them catching up with each other. There will be flashbacks that will start from the day they met and until the time they parted ways. During this there will be a lingering thread that the reader isn't truly who they seem to be and the first arc will end with the reveal of who they are and Alastor's death in 1933. I'll tell you guys what it is since I don't have any plans on reviving that story, the reader would be revealed to be an angel and that they died a few years after they got separated from Alastor. Reader saw how Alastor was with his whole murder schtick and wanted to try and dissuade him, eventually culminating in being sent back down to Earth.

It's a bit of a jumbled mess but it doesn't work in the end and they both fall to Hell. The second arc will then start in their afterlife, with Alastor at odds with the reader, I'd say even treat them as an enemy or something similar. They'll eventually work their way back to being friends, maybe something more. So in a way, that part stayed with this story.

I'm kind of grateful I changed it, I adore the current plot and wouldn't be any happier with how it turned out. But who knows? In an alternate universe, I could've continued down that old route.

• My Original Vision of the Story

This was supposed to be a much more lighthearted book actually, it was supposed to have stories contained only within each chapter and maybe like have one plot that connects each of them kind of like how cartoons work, you can go to any chapter and not be confused as to what was going on. It was supposed to be more centered on Squeaks as a person and it's just them navigating through their occupation as a postmaster. Each chapter would be a different adventure and then they would meet the Vees, the Hotel, and it's just random hijinks for the sake of hijinks. I eventually deviated from that as time went on and I just went with the flow as I did.

• Interpretation of Alastor

This incessant, annoying, showy, overgrown Bambi has always been and will always be my favorite. It truly makes me happy when people comment that my interpretation of Alastor is something that they appreciate and think is accurate. Gives my needless fixation on him some use.

Another thing to talk about is his sexuality, I don't have the right to tell people how to write Alastor and I also enjoy Alastor acting out of character and being a fluffy softie. As a bit of a confession, I have a oneshot series that I didn't move into this site that portrays Alastor differently, looking back at it now I'll probably delete a few chapters since I'm starting to regret my choices back then. It was my choice to make his character act the way he does in this fic but I'm not opposed to people taking his character on a different route! Everyone has the freedom to write whatever they want, even if I don't necessarily like it those stories weren't written with my opinions in mind. If you don't like it, don't read it. It's the rule of thumb for fanfiction.

If I have to describe how it feels to write about Alastor it's like trying to walk on a rickety old bridge that'll probably break at any moment. Alastor, who's canonically asexual, possibly aromantic, is an enigma that I lose sleep over every night trying to understand and I bet you he probably would find it amusing. I try to keep both worlds happy, where people who'd prefer to keep Alastor opposed to traditional romance and people who'd like to see him in a more romantic light are both happy with this fic. Optimistic in nature, difficult to execute you get what I mean? Of course this doesn't imply that asexual people can't experience love! It's just that Alastor's a complex character that has a lot of nuances. At the very least I hope I <strong>m</strong>ade something that didn't offend anyone, invalidate Alastor's orientation and identity, or just kept this fic from being weird in general.

But the fact that this is a reader pairing already fails the not-weird plan. In the future I'll just shut up and pick a kind of Alastor to write consistently.

• The Series Itself

I've been in the fandom for over half a decade now and looking back at it I never expected Hazbin Hotel to really make an impact, especially with me being a writer, I have a lot to be thankful of and I'm happy to see the show make it to where it is but I also have my gripes about certain aspects of it.

Do I still like Hazbin Hotel? Sure! I still believe it's a darling little series that started with a pretty strong passion. But the series has its flaws and I can't say it's the best out there. Not to mention ths several instances from both the fandom and its creator that made me want to curl up into a ball and dissolve.

• Will I Be Continuing This Book?

Most likely? I want to make small little special epilogues every now and then but as far as the main story goes this one is already done. I'll also be coming back to edit this book frequently, or as frequent as my schedule allows me to be so look out for that.

• Future Projects

Will there be any other fics after this? Yes! Eventually? Someday? Okay, I may or may not have something already planned but I'll probably hold off until Season 2 comes out. But I do want to start a new fic! I just don't know when it'll be out exactly, maybe it'll be after S2, maybe before, maybe during. I'm not gonna spoil you on the details but it will be about an OP reader since some of you are really vocal about the apparent lack of it.

Although if you're paying attention, you can probably guess what the title of that new book will be.

• A Special Thank You

This is dedicated to all those talented stars that made fanart for this silly little book of mine. These always made me so happy and I still can't believe that so many of you dedicated your time and effort in these lovely drawings.

baezzz-mid on Tumblr

pieofpieee on Twitter/X (couldn't find the fanart but please check them out they're amazing)

cyan-111de on Tumblr

melesmania on Tumblr

song_stat on Twitter/X

aliensketches on Instagram

kattywattyisonhere on Tumblr

If you have the time, go check them out! They have other cool stuff in their pages and deserve all the love we're legally allowed to give. Again, thank you so so so much!

And with that, I have nothing else to yap about, it was fun writing this but for now thank you and goodnight! See you on the other side. For any further comments I'll be here, lurking around for a few days or so before I fall off the face of the Earth.

Signed,

misslycoris ♡