#i've been wanting to make something like this for a while

[pomegranatesarchive]

not so secret santa

max verstappen x teammate!reader

part of redbull!reader

[3.4k] secret santa has never been your favorite holiday tradition; in fact, you’ve always found it more stressful than fun. but this year, it’s somehow even worse—because out of all the people you could have drawn, you ended up with your teammate, max.

.

"Can't I skip it this year?" you grumbled, watching as the F1 social media admin walked up to you, a phone in one hand, and a Christmas hat in the other.

The woman frowned behind the camera, shaking the hat slightly, "You love Christmas." she pointed out.

You nodded, pocketing your phone in your back pocket, you were on your way to the garage before you were stopped by the last person you wanted to see.

You had no problem with the admin, on the contrary, you found her delightful, but she was making the round of secret santa, and that's why you were hoping to avoid her.

"Christmas and Secret Santa are not the same." you quipped, reaching your hand into the hat and swirling around the tiny slips of paper. You took a deep breath, grasping one before pulling it out, the camera following your every movement.

You leaned by, opening the slip away from prying eyes, "Shit." you cursed, quickly trying to put the paper back into the hat.

The admin laughed, leaning back, "No switching!"

You groaned, "C'mon please!"

She laughed, shaking your head, "Nope! Show the camera."

You grumbled, slowly turning the paper, Max Verstappen.

The woman laughed, delighted by the odds, "Okay. You remember the rules?"

"Don't tell anyone." you grumbled, pocketing the slip of paper, "I never know what to get!" you whined, as much as you loved Christmas the gift-giving part was something you despised, you always second-guessed yourself, and could never pick out what you deemed a 'good gift.’

"You have until two weeks from now." she beamed, before walking away, no doubt on her way to find her next victim.

.

Later that day you had a list of those who could help you on the hunt for the perfect gift. The first person on your list for help was, unfortunately, out of all people, Jos Verstappen.

Truly he was the last person you would ever want to talk to, but you thought that if anyone could be able to help you with picking out a gift, it would be Max's dad.

You would've gone to his mother, or even sister first. But they rarely visited the garage, much less when Jos was around, which you entirely understood.

"Get him something for racing," he spoke simply, you stood near him awkwardly, this was only your second one-on-one conversation in all the years you've been racing with his child, and moments like these reminded you why you avoided him, "Gloves."

You blinked, "You don't think I should get him something more personal? I mean I've known him for a while now."

"You've known him for a while and still don't know what to get him?" he sent you a look, and you resisted the urge to snap back, taking a deep breath.

"I'm bad a gifts."

"Then don't get him anything," the man shrugged like it was the most reasonable thing, "He hasn't been doing good enough to deserve a good Christmas." he scoffed.

"He's leading the championship." you laughed in amazement, truly not understanding how a father could say such things about his own child.

Jos' eyes snapped over to you, "Norris is catching up, he's not doing good enough."

"Not good enough?" you gaped, taking a step back, deciding to let it go and not start an argument in the middle of the garage, "Nevermind. Nevermind. Thank you for your…help.” you didn’t bother giving him a fake smile, turning on your heel quickly and walking out of the garage.

“Asshole,” you whispered to yourself, walking quickly with eyes on the ground.

“My dad?” you stopped abruptly, looking up to see Max in all his glory standing in front of you.

“Hm?” you blinked, staring up at him.

He pursed his lips, hands on his hips, “You were talking to my dad.”

You nodded slowly, debating whether to lie or not, “…I was.”

He hummed, left eye slightly twitching, “Okay. Why?”

Your mind went blank, thinking of any excuse you could use, “Um…”

Max eyes you, nodding along with you, “Um…”

"I just wanted to catch up."

In hindsight, you definitely should've come up with something more believable.

Max shot you a very telling look, letting you know that he didnt believe an ounce of what you were saying, "Catching up? With Jos?"

"Yes?" you squinted up at him, tone not as believable as you wanted it to be.

"You don't catch up with Jos. You don't like Jos."

You tried to look offended, "I can catch up with Jos."

Max let out a short laugh, eyes glancing behind you, no doubt to his father, "No. You don't like him." he repeated, "Most people don't like him."

You stared up at him with a blank look before letting out a deep breath, "You're right, I don't like him."

Max nodded once more, an amused look on his face, "So why were you talking to him?"

You balled your hands into a fist wanting nothing more but to tell him that you were on a search for the perfect gift, but you resisted, "I wanted to catch up with Jos but then he opened his mouth and reminded me why I stay away."

Max said nothing, simply staring down at you, a certain look in his eyes, you sighed, "I promise."

Finally, Max let up, giving you a smile, and patting your shoulder before walking towards his father.

With a grimace you quickly spun on your heel, catching Jos's eyes, you pressed a finger to your lips, hoping you would get the hint—it appeared like he didnt by the way he looked at you in a mixture of disgust and confusion.

You watched them anxiously for a moment, before scurrying away, choosing to not see the moment Max realized you had lied to him.

Back with the Verstappens, Max was eyeing his father oddly. He knew you had just lied to him, your anxious tone and the way you balled your hands into fists told him you were lying, he just didnt know about what.

"You two were catching up?" Max voiced his disbelief, the last thing he expected was for his father to continue you lie.

"Yes, Max." his father sighed, already annoyed by the talk you and him just had, and now he had his son asking him the same question over and over again.

"About what?" the exasperation in the racer's voice pulled a smile to Jos's face.

He turned to his son with his arms crossed, "Win this race, and I'll tell you."

Max blinked, truly that was the last thing he expected to come from his father...and it made him mad. Years of winning and winning, and the man couldn't tell him this one thing? When had he ever asked for anything from him?

Max scoffed, rolling his eyes before walking away, ignoring his father's calls behind him.

.

There was something so intimating about Oscar Piastri and his blank face. Maybe it was because of how calm cool and collected he was, while at the moment you were the exact opposite. Either way, you were cursing Secret Santa for putting you in this position.

It was the day after your pick when you ran into him in the hotel reception center, he was sitting on a couch, eyes and face blank.

You contemplated walking away multiple times, but you knew you needed all the imput you could get to get Max the perfect gift.

"Hey Oscar..." you sang awkwardly slowly sliding down to the spot next to him.

He blinked slowly, turning to you slowly, "Hey." he mumbled, before turning back and facing straight, no doubt creeping out some of the people walking by.

You argued with yourself mentally, trying to build up the courage to talk with the man next to you, "So uh.. who'd you get for Secret Santa?" you tried, cringing into yourself.

"I'm not supposed to tell you."

"I'm won’t tell anyone."

"You'll tell Max." you didnt bother trying to defend yourself, knowing he was right, you would've definitely blurted it out to Max.

"Yeah.." you mumbled slowly, prusing your lips.

"You got him right—Max?" he asked simply.

You snapped your head over to him before looking around the hotel reception room crazily, "Shh!" you whispered and shouted, "He could hear you."

Yesterday after Max's conversation with his father, you were sure he was going to come back and let you know that his father had spilled the beans, teasing you over not being able to keep 'secret' Santa a 'secret' for longer than 24 hours.

But he never did. Instead, he complained about Jos for almost a full hour, not once did he bring up the gift situation.

"Yes. Because I'm sure he can hear me from the track...from here."

You shrunk slightly in embarrassment, you were not aware he had left the hotel, "You never know." you scoffed, rolling your eyes, "So uh.. you're good at gift-giving, right?"

Oscar tilted his head in thought, "I mean, I don't think it's something I'm known for."

"But like, you're good at it right?" you tried leaning towards him.

"Yeah, I guess so."

Happily, you slightly bounced on your spot, "Great!" you paused, "So like, hypothetically, if you got Max for Secret Santa," you saw a small smile spread on Oscar's face, "Hypothetically, what would you get him?"

Oscar hummed, "Hypothetically..." he dragged the word out, he paused before seeming stumped, "I don't know.."

"Oscar!" you groaned, slumping in disappointment.

"I seriously don't know," he whispered to himself, seemingly distraught, "Wow...I don't know."

The room's tone shifted as Oscar kept mumbling to himself.

"It's okay Oscar," you smiled awkwardly, "I don't know, I don't know, I don't know..." he muttered to himself, avoiding eye contact.

"It's okay.." you patted his arm, noticing more and more people were glancing your way, yet he didnt stop mumbling to himself.

You laughed awkwardly, slowly getting up, "Yeah okay." you mumbled, looking around before walking away, leaving him with his mumbles.

You circled around the hotel lobby for what felt like hours (it was three minutes) continuously taking peeks at Oscar, who continued to look in horror at a revelation that he, did not know.

After a few more circles, you thankfully spotted the next person on your ‘help with gift’ list, Lando. He was exiting the elevator, a concerned look on his face as he started heading towards Oscar.

You took off in a quick jog, cutting him off mid-walk, he stumbled on his feet trying to not bump into you, “Hey!” you greeted gleefully, blocking his eyesight as they trailed back to Oscar.

"Hey." he blinked, shooting you a quick smile before his eyes inevitability trailed back to Oscar, who had a deep frown on his face.

"I need your help," you pursed your lips, Lando looked down at you in confusion before looking back to Oscar, contemplation clear on his face. You decided to clear the air, "Oscars fine. He just's...thinking, about what I'm going to ask you actually!"

It took a second before Lando nodded in acceptance, "Okay? What’s up?"

"I got Max for Secret Santa, and I want to get him something super good, but you know I'm bad at gifts right? Yeah, I got you for Secret Santa last year and it sucked," you rambled as Lando nodded with a frown, recalling when you got him a replica of his helmet, like his own helmet, it would've been thoughtful if it wasn't, his helmet, "And I asked Jos and he was no help, so then I asked Oscar but I think.. I think I broke him."

Lando looked down at you blankly, opening his mouth and closing it a couple times, before finally, he took a deep breath, "Okay.." he dragged out, "Why don't you try anything racing-related?"

"That's what Jos suggested."

Lando jumped back in disgusted, "So let's not get him anything racing-related."

You nodded in agreement, "I was going to get him a new cat but that seems like a big commitment."

Lando hummed in agreement, "Especially because he just got one, what's its name? Donatello?"

"Mhmm."

"What if you don't get him a cat, but get him something for his cats." He rose up a brow.

Your face lit up before it slowly dimmed, "But isn't that like getting his cats something and not him something."

Lando shrugged, a small frown appearing on his face, "That's all I got."

You groaned throwing your head back, "No! Lando no!"

Lando laughed, his eyes crinkling in amusement, "I'm sorry!"

You moved to his side, putting your head on his shoulder, "What'd you get Zhou?"

Lano beamed, "A pillow of his cat, Sweetcorn."

You gasped, an open-mouth smile on your face, Lando quickly cut in, "No you cannot use that idea!"

You faltered, looking up with a glare, "Have I told you how much I hate you?"

Lando looked down at you with a cheeky smile, "Many times, yes."

You grumble to yourself, slight smaking him on the shoulder before turning and walking away, onto the next and final person on your list.

.

You had lost Daniel Ricciardo's phone number. That was a big problem seeing as he was the last person on your 'quest to find Max the perfect gift' list.

You had gotten a phone two months prior, actually, Max got you a new phone, claiming that your old phone was 'deteriorating.'

During the process of switching phones, all of your contacts were deleted, a problem that was solved as you went around the track asking for all the phone numbers you could get, the problem was that Daniel was no longer at the track. You told yourself that you would get to it eventually, but you never did.

And now you were in this horrible situation, you had to somehow get Daniel's phone number from Max, without explaining why you needed it.

You could've gone to literally any of the other drivers, but they all seemed to be strangely avoiding you. (Little did you know Max had figured out the next part of your plan and told everyone to ‘hide’ from you so you had no choice but to go to him.)

He was sitting next to GP, pointing at something on the screen his mouth moving widely. You snuck up behind him, giving GP a look, hoping he would take the hint. Thankfully he did. He only took a couple seconds patting Max on his back and walking away.

Quickly you slid into his seat, shooting Max a smile.

His eyebrows shot up instantly, "You're done avoiding me?"

You laughed fakely, looking around the garage, "Me? Ignore you? What? Outrageous Max, just—outrageous."

The driver shot you a look, making you clear your throat awkwardly, "Do you have Daniel Riccarido's number?" Stupid question, of course, he had his number.

"I do." Max nodded simply, you winced you had hoped that he would just offer it on the spot, but of course is it really Max if he isn't difficult?

"Great!" you nodded enthusiastically, "..Can I have it?" you added quickly.

Max smiled to himself, turning his body toward you entirely, his head leaning on his palm, "Why do you want it?"

You faltered, swallowing thickly, "Why?" you stuttered, trying to think of a great excuse.

"Mhm. Why?"

You stared at him, "Because he's my friend. And—and I miss talking to him."

Max's smile got wider, "I got you a new phone two months ago, you haven't said anything about talking to Daniel?"

Shit. He was catching on. "I want to ask him out!" What?

You blinked, shocked at what had just come out of your mouth, Max on the other hand looked more amused than ever, "Oh?" he tilted his head, "Really? You and Daniel?"

You nodded painfully, "Yeah—yeah, um I've been thinking about it for a long time?...and this just seems like the right moment, ya know?"

Max was beaming ear to ear, "No, I don't know."

"Okay well, you don't need to get it. I just—I need his phone number please."

Wordless, Max handed you his phone, watching as you opened it and sent yourself Daniel's number, you hopped off the chair, giving him one last awkward smile, "See you later!"

Max watched you go with a fond smile, shaking his head. God he couldn't wait to see what you would get him for Secret Santa.

.

"I'm surprised to hear from you!" was one of the first things Daniel said when he picked up the phone. You were currently in the bathroom with five minutes to spare before ths race started.

"I lost your number!" you defended yourself, peeking under the stall to see if anyone had entered the bathroom, thankful nobody had, "I need your help."

"How may the wise Daniel Ricciardo help thee?"

You pulled a face, shaking your head, "What should I get Max for secret santa?"

"Easy. Get him something family-related."

You got a hear a pin drop. Easy. Something family-related, of course! Max loves his family!

"You are a fucking genius, Daniel."

"So I've been told." you could hear his smirk through the phone. Unfortunately, you didnt have time to hear him continue, "While I have you, how has your season been—“

"Sorry Daniel, can't talk, thanks for the insight! Oh and by the way, if Max or anyone asked I declared my love for you on this call and you very kindly rejected me? Okay? Okay!" before he could splutter out anything, you had already hung up.

.

Max stood in front of the camera crew, a smile on his face as he shook the small envelope, "So it's not a new cat?" he quipped.

The people behidn the camera laughed, the social media admin shrugged with a grin, "It still could be."

Max shook his head as he started to slowly and carefully open the envelope, "I don't think she could manage to fit a cat in here." nobody picked up on the 'she'

Max hummed as he peeked inside the envelope, "I see a note, should I read that first?" he looked at the admin, who shrugged.

"Okay.." he dragged out, pulling out the note, he cleared his throat as he started to read, "Happy Holidays Max! I hope you're reading this after you've opened the actual present..." Max paused, slowly turning up to the crew who were shaking in laughter, he shook his head deciding that it was too late to stop, "Getting you a present was very very, very difficult, but after some help, I was able to make my choice, I really do hope you enjoy the vacation with your mom and sister," he paused before continuing, "And don't worry about booking hotels or babysitters, I got it all done, Merry (early) Christmas Maxie, with love—your secret santa."

With a huge smile, Max placed the letter onto the table, before excitedly reaching into the envelopes, and pulling out three plane ticks, "Wow." he gasped, turning the tickets and showing them off to the camera, "It's three tickets to Greece for me, my mom and sister," he beamed, examining them further, "I've always wanted to go." he whispered to himself.

The camera crew smiled to themselves while the social media admin leaned in with her eyebrow raised, "Any idea who your secret santa was?"

Max nodded almost instantly, laughing slightly, "It's (yn) I recognize her writing."

The admin laughed, shaking her head, "That's cheating Max!"

Max shook his head, pointing at the woman, "It's not my fault I'm good at this!"

The admin waved him off, "Okay! Okay, you were right, it was her."

Max smirked, "I knew it," his eyes unfocused, wandering over to behind the group of people in front of them, curious they all trailed their eyes over to where he was staring, "I guessed right! You can come out now!" Max yelled out, the camera crew gasped as you peeked out of a thick pillar, hopping over to them with a smile.

"She was there the whole time?" the mic man whispered to the cameraman, who shrugged, mouth open in surprise.

"I don't know...but that's slightly scary."

You walked over to Max with a smile, letting out a small squeak as he pulled you into a tight hug unexpectedly, "You guessed so quickly" you groaned, feeling him press a kiss on your head.

"I found your list," Max whispered in your ear, laughing as he felt you tense up.

"Like the list?" you groaned, feeling embarrassment flood your system.

"The list," Max confirmed as you two pulled away.

You winced avoiding eye contact.

Max laughed, reaching over to squeeze your hand, "Thank you. Really. I love the gift."

You smiled proudly, before turning to the admin who was watching the scene with a small smile, "I'm warning you right now that I am never doing secret santa gain."

The woman giggled, a cerstain gleam in her eye, "We'll see about that."

.

a/n: truly impressed with the writers who write 4k words and UP fics, this one is 3.4k and it took me well over two weeks to write (which is why its being uploaded after christmas) anywhoo i hope you guys enjoyed!!!

[backpackingspace]

Okay so with the line "the olive tree where we first met" we have two equal hilarious options.

When penelope was sassily like oh I'll marry you if you make a living bed out of this tree right here! Cue penelope stumbling over odysseus very very carefully digging up the tree "because how else is he going to get it to itacha we can't have a wedding bed out in the open in sparta duh"

Or

2. Penelope, knowing that Helen's suitors would soon be arriving to take over her home for a while. Snuck out and went on her own wacky shenanigan filled journey where she scoped out all the major players. Odysseus caught her spying in an olive tree. And when she got back she told Helen she had dibs on the cutie from itacha.

[punkrockisafulltimejob]

I literally grew up below the poverty line. My income, as soon as I had a job, went to supplement the household, and with a disabled father my income was the secondary income. We were still below the poverty line. "New" was a novel concept to me and my siblings, because nothing we ever got was new.

I have been blessed with opportunity, I got a full time job, a husband with a stable income, and a third income via my MIL. We just bought a condo, and we were able to spend some money renovating (out of necessity, rather than desire), but we are still firmly lower class. All three of our cars were used when purchased. Mine is 20 years old, and I'm at least the third owner. I'm currently ignoring my check engine light because I cannot afford the repairs I know my car needs. We are basically going to be scraping to pay the mortgage and our bills for the next several months while we attempt to build up a savings again, but more likely than not we're going to be back to living paycheck to paycheck for a while, especially since I can no longer work full time because of my declining health.

The life I live is one singular step up from the poverty I was raised in. When I was a kid, we juggled which bills we'd pay that month. As an adult, I'm using every single penny I have to pay my bills, and even then sometimes I miss a payment on something because I have to wait for my next check to get deposited.

I am poor. I am lower class. Unless something drastic happens in my life, I will always be lower class. This is not a luxury lifestyle by any means. If you try to tell me how "good" I have it because my husband and I, as well as my MIL, have a three income household and can pay the bills, I will eat you. I've lived the lowest of the low, and this is barely above that.

I would (figuratively) kill for a middle class lifestyle. I would love to be able to pay off all my bills and debt and have the automatic payments come out without me obsessing about it it'll put me in the red. I would love to be able to buy books whenever I want them, and not think twice about telling my husband we need to buy another book shelf to hold them. I would love to be able to quit my job and live solely off my husband's income so I can be the house spouse I want to be. I would love to turn my long weekend birthday trip to the beach/fave used book store into a week long adventure, and not have to use the cheapest motel in the area for two nights. I would love to have my hobbies be hobbies and not something I need to monetize in order to make ends meet. I would love to be able to go out to dinner and a movie once a month with my husband, cover the bill for my friends at lunch, buy a new laptop when I need one instead of praying my decade old computer pulls through just a little bit longer. Being able to bring my car to the shop when needed and not having to scrape to pay the mechanic would be amazing. Any of that would put me at *maybe* lower middle class. Not even firmly middle class, lower middle class.

I am not middle class, and I am not your enemy. People who are middle class are not your enemy. People living a life of luxury as celebrities aren't even your enemy. It's the billionaires who profit off of your labor without regard for the fact that you're a human being who deserves to live that are your enemy. Eat the fucking rich.

Ive noticed recently that my generation has... no concept of what the various economic classes actually are anymore. I talk to my friends and they genuinely say things like "at least i can afford a middle class lifestyle with this job because i dont need a roommate for my one bedroom apartment" and its like... oughh

You guys, middle class doesnt mean "a stable enough rented roof over your head," it means "a house you bought, a nice car or two, the ability to support a family, and take days off and vacations every year with income to spare for retirement savings and rainy days." If all you have is a rented apartment without a roommate and a used car, you're lower class. That's lower class.

And i cant help but wonder if this is why you get kids on tumblr lumping in doctors and actors into their "eat the rich" rhetoric: economic amnesia has blinded you to what the class divides actually are. The real middle class lifestyle has become so unattainable within a system that relies upon its existence that theyve convinced you that those who can still reach it are the elites while your extreme couponing to afford your groceries is the new normal.

[linearities]

ᅟᅟᅟ☆ ｡⁠ UNDER THE MISTLETOE ～ !!

a mistletoe hanging above your bed? surely your roommate is just getting into the Christmas Spirit... right?

pairing: roommate!seonghwa x fem!reader

warnings: SMUT!!! +18 MINORS DNI!!!! oral (fem receiving), pussy drunk seonghwa, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, cursing, kinda perv!seonghwa (?), not proofread!!!

notes: why hello there my loves :3 it's been a long while since i've written smut so please forgive me if this is bad :/ merry (late) christmas and happy new years to all of you!!!!

taglist form. · masterlist.

divider here.

you should've suspected something when you got home from work and found a mistletoe hanging above your bed. you thought it was just a cute little detail your roommate did, a cheeky little thing as a lot of others he had a habit to do. sliding into the christmas spirit, you know?

walking inside the apartment, seonghwa was quick to take your bags and help you out of your coat, even going as far as kneeling in front of you to help you take off your shoes. you found it suspicious, yet didn't say anything, knowing that sometimes he'd go overboard on the pampering and all of that, catering to your every whim. according to him, he just wanted to "be a good roommate". you shrugged the thought away, letting him guide you to the bedroom, chuckling as soon as you saw the garment hanging on the wall.

"what's this?" you asked, looking at him with a playful undertone in your voice. he shrugged with that cheeky smile of his, looking at you with soft pleading eyes as he brought his hands to the first button of your blouse. "fuck it, why not?" you thought, nodding at him in encouragement. slowly, he started unbuttoning your blouse, taking his time popping every button. you could hear his breath hitching as the fabric slid off your arms, falling on the bed.

in your defense, you had always found seonghwa pretty cute, and having him undress you like that after a long fucking day of work was almost a dream come true. he was that boy who's jacked and kind Sabrina Carpenter had talked about, so you wouldn't complain at all. he laid you on the bed, softly brushing a strand of hair out of your face.

"you're so beautiful…" he murmured, admiring your features like you were his dream come true. his christmas miracle, "can i kiss you? since we're under the mistletoe and all?"

that got a giggle out of you, and you nodded, joining your lips in a sweet kiss. it was christmas, after all. what could possibly go wrong? except his kisses grew hungrier, greedier, and his hands slowly started to roam over your upper body. you held his wrists, breaking the kiss to properly look at him, only to find pure and raw adoration and desire in his gaze. where the fuck did this come from?

"hwa, i don't know if that's a good idea-"

"please," he interrupted you, burying his face on the crook of your neck, "i promise i'll be good for you." you sighed softly, thinking about it. again, what could go wrong? it was just harmless fun between roommates, under the excuse of a mistletoe.

little did you know you were in for a long night.

"tasting so good, my christmas gift," seonghwa groaned, your legs hooked on his shoulders as he kept relentlessly making out with your pussy, licking, sucking and kissing your clenching core like it was his death row meal.

you, on the other hand, already had tears in your eyes, coming out of your third orgasm of the night. you couldn't get him out of you at all. you had pushed him only to have him place your legs on his shoulders. you had tried to crawl away, only to have him grab you by your hips and drag you closer, burying his face on your sweet cunt again. seonghwa was completely pussy drunk, pushing you over the edge again and again and again until you were a shivering mess, whimpering and sobbing in overstimulation.

"hwa… hwa, f-fuck, 's too much… too much…" you cried out, hands on his head trying to push him away, your protests falling in deaf ears since he was too far gone to even register what you were saying, murmuring praises on how good you were for him, how beautiful you were, how sweet you tasted, how divine you smelled.

"so perfect f' me… so sweet… so wet, so tasty…." he kept praising, not even realizing how your legs were shaking and ready to give out.

he pulled orgasm after orgasm out of you, only stopping when he was satisfied, your clit swollen and your legs spasming on his shoulders. sweet little kisses trailed up your body, worshipping your soft skin in pure adoration. his eyes roamed over your face, admiring your fucked out features and the tear streaks on your face.

"so beautiful…" he murmured, peckering his sweet little kisses all over your face, capturing your lips and making you taste yourself on his tongue.

"you're insane," was the only thing you could get out, panting and sweating under him, "and a pervert."

he giggled, nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck, "don't act as if you didn't enjoy it."

that earned a smack on his shoulder and a chuckle out of him, "shut up."

"merry christmas to you too, roomie," he murmured, laying on top of you and pecking your lips.

"merry christmas, seonghwa," you chuckled, wrapping your legs around him and finally surrendering to the feeling, allowing yourself to relax under his weight.

hi hello it's your girl meggie :3

if you read until the end thank you so much i literally love you mwah mwah mwah

merry christmas and happy new years, babes <3 gonna bring more treats to y'all soon, just you wait.

xoxo, meggie.

[hiiraya]

loml

pairing: natasha romanoff  x reader 

words: ~3.3k

warnings: angst, happy ending (?), literally just self-indulgent writing, messy writing, listen to loml by taylor swift to get in the sad mood

a/n: merry christmas everyone! the last thing I posted was january of 2022 and it's literally about to be 2025 - I've been in a reminiscing mood lately and this was something I've had in the drafts for months, I figured I should just release it to get it out of my system. your girl has been missing someone bad bro and the urge to tag them in this is insane ♡ anyways, hope they see this lmao

“Have a safe flight and text me when you land, yeah?”

“I will, I will. Get home safe and update me as well, okay?”

You release your cousin from your hold, giving their shoulder a quick squeeze as they pull away. You do a last minute check with them to make sure they hadn’t forgotten anything important - something you were always prone to do when travelling by yourself. The memory of you almost missing your international flight because you had rushed home and back to the airport within record speed, all because you had forgotten your passport of all things. 

“I’ll fly out to see you next time, so you can show me around.” You smile.

“Are you guys serious? I told you to leave early so that this exact thing wouldn’t happen!”

Your eyebrows immediately furrow at the familiar voice, catching one last glance of your cousin as they enter the security screening area, waving to them while you mouth one last ‘text me when you land!’ as they leave your sight, before turning around to find the source of the voice.

No way it’s her, you thought. What’s she doing here?

As you get closer to the arrivals board, your questions are answered. Standing there in all her glory, is the one woman you never thought you’d lay your eyes on again.

“Natasha?”

You see the puzzled look on her face as she registers your voice before she even lays her eyes on you. Watching as the confusion turns to irritation - whether it was towards you or whoever was on the other side of the phone, you couldn’t tell (most likely both) - you watch as a deep sigh she releases as she glances at the board in front of her once again.

“-that’s another 10 hours before you guys even land.” She sighs, exasperation lacing her voice.

“Hey, listen if you need help-”

She holds a finger up to silence you, eyes meeting yours in a piercing glance. “I don’t need help, and especially not from you Y/N L/N.”

At her words, you look down, the sight of your shoes a welcome one as you take a second to recover. Honestly, you thought to yourself, I deserved that. 

“Yes, it’s Y/N- no I did not! I swear I didn’t know that they were here.” You hear her mutter from beside you. Deciding to save the both of you from further embarrassment, you turn your attention elsewhere, wondering what your cousin would say once you eventually tell them about who you ran into immediately after they left.

You lift your head back up when you hear Natasha mumble "you guys pick the day before Christmas of all days to be late for your flight” followed by a quick goodbye before hanging up the phone, watching her scope the airport for her next step. 

You could just leave and pretend this ever happened.

“Come on, Nat, I promise I just want to help.” You find yourself saying instead. “I can take you to your hotel when they get here.”

Well, there's no going back from that now.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Are you seriously asking me that right now?”

You really needed to stop opening your mouth.

“Okay, you know what, I deserve that.” You pause. “Listen, I’m not going to force you to come with me, but the offer is still there if you want it. You’ll get a free ride, plus you can use my apartment to rest and freshen up while you wait.”

 -x-

"I can't believe you talked me into this."

You spare a glance to Natasha, who was currently sitting in your passenger seat.

"You're the one that followed me to the car?"

She rolls her eyes at your confused tone, choosing to ignore what you said and instead checking her phone - most likely waiting for an update from whoever she was speaking to on the phone before. "I can't believe they missed their flight."

"Who's they?"

"Yelena, Maria, Wanda," she answers. "Oh, and Yelena's friend Kate too. I don't think you've met her."

You bit the inside of your cheek, because you already know that you didn't get to meet anyone named Kate while you were still together. You honestly didn't get to meet many of Natasha's friends whenever visited her - it was something you always fought over. It felt like she was ashamed of you, always wanting to keep you hidden, a secret she never planned on sharing with the world.

You refrain from asking any follow up questions - if Natasha wanted you to know more she would tell you.

Instead, you ask: "Did they manage to catch the next flight out?"

She nods. "I'm honestly surprised they did, considering how expensive it probably would've been. But knowing Maria, she probably would've pulled some strings to make it work."

Natasha finally looks up from her phone as you come to a stop, looking at the building you had just parked in front of.

"Where are we?"

"My apartment, I figured we could drop off your bags and you can freshen up before I show you around." You open the door for Natasha before moving to grab her bags from the trunk.

You lead her inside, setting her bags down in the living room before turning around to face Natasha - holding your arms out as you gesture to your living space. It's the first time she's ever stepped foot into this place, having only seen it through a phone screen since you were the one who would fly out to visit her when you were still together.

"I'll grab you some towels so you can freshen up, but make yourself at home." You say, gesturing for her to follow you down a hallway. "The bathroom is the first door to your left, there should be a spare toothbrush under the sink- wait did I give to my cousin? Well, we can grab you one while we're out but everything you need should be here."

You know you're rambling but you don't stop in fear of saying something stupid (which knowing you, is highly likely).

"If you want to take a nap, the guest room is just a little further down the hall on the right - I just changed the sheets so everything should be fresh."

It's not the way you wanted to be showing Natasha around your home for the first time, but you'll take what you can get. It'd be so easy to waltz back to the way things were, before everything fell apart but you didn't have the right to that anymore. You weren't a part of her life anymore.

You didn't know if she already had someone new in her life, maybe you were overstepping in so many ways and that it was best to just keep your distance. After all, you did promise that you just wanted to help. You were here to keep her company until the girls arrived and take her to the hotel when they finally did get here.

You know it's for the better to just move on, that after today she'll be gone and it'll be like she never made a reappearance in your life. But how could you when you know deep down that you still haven't fully moved on and that she'll always hold your heart in her hands?

Natasha's voice cuts off your reverie, bringing you back to the present as you hand her the towels.

"Give me an hour to shower and rest my feet for a bit, I wanna go out and explore while we wait."

 -x-

"Do you see that one over there? That's a hammerhead shark! They're one of the most powerful sharks in the ocean."

Natasha hears the little girl gasp, watching their eyes going wide with wonder. She can't help the small laugh that escapes when she sees the young girl lean closer towards the glass before loudly whispering, "is it going to eat us?"

You laugh softly, and Natasha can't help but think that she's missed hearing the sound of your laugh, something she thought she wouldn’t hear again. It comforts her slightly to know that it hasn't changed after all these years, and that  she can still easily recognise the sound as being yours only.

"It won't eat us! Sharks don't eat humans," she hears you explain. "They're more interested in fish and seals, than they are humans. But they are really strong swimmers, and they can smell things from miles away - even in water!"

She'd been watching you answer questions about sharks for the past 5 minutes, after a curious little girl ran up to while you were looking at the shark tank and asked if you knew what type of shark was swimming in front of the glass.

"Do sharks talk to each other?"

"They don't talk like we do, but they do communicate by using their bodies and how they move through the water. Some sharks even make sounds by rubbing their teeth together, kind of like a secret language that only they can hear."

It doesn't take long for the girl's mother to find the three of you, sighing in relief as she sees her daughter, looking up at you apologetically.

"Sorry, she's probably been asking you a million questions."

You give the woman a friendly smile and shake your head. "It was nothing, I loved answering all of her questions." You tell her. "It looks like you might have a future marine biologist on your hands."

"Let's leave the lovely ladies to enjoy the rest of their date, bubba."

"Oh- it's not-"

"We're not-"

The mother and daughter are already walking off before either of you could finish your sentences, leaving you and Natasha standing in front of the shark exhibit with red cheeks and thundering heartbeats. 

Natasha catches your eyes as you glance at her in a shy glance, and she knows it's too late. The warmth that passes through her as you smile, the same warm and knowing smile that you used to give her when everything was still okay was almost enough to bring her down to her knees.

You interrupt before her thoughts can spiral any further, clearing your throat before gesturing with your head the direction of the next exhibit.

"Shall we keep going?"

 -x-

Natasha sits across from you at a small café by the beach. You mention to her that it was your secret place, one that you go to when you wanted time to slow down and just have a moment to catch your breath. After the little incident at the aquarium, you guys decided it was best to just sit and people watch for the time being to avoid any more awkward interactions.

The warmth emanating from the cup of coffee did little to chase away the little chills that ran down her spine every time Natasha caught you gaze lingering on her for longer than you must've realised.

She told you about the plans that she and the girls had made for their vacation while you filled her in on your own life, telling her about your cousin that had just recently come to visit you just before Christmas.

"I'm glad you chose to come with me." You admit after a pause in conversation, voice soft. She turns to look at you, your eyes meeting hers with such an intensity it made her breath get caught in her throat. "I missed getting to talk to you like this."

She can tell that you spoke without thinking, the widening of your eyes giving you away. You look away, muttering a quiet "sorry" before lifting your drink to your lips in an attempt to hide the flush of your cheeks.

She was supposed to be over you. She'd told herself time and time again that she had moved on, but seeing you again, and being here with you, she couldn't deny that she was still in love with you. Having you so close yet so unreachable leaves an ache in her chest.

Throughout the time you two had been sat at the café, she watched you with fondness at the way your eyes lit up while you spoke with excitement in your voice about the things you and your cousin had gotten up to in the week they were with you; Natasha realises that she missed you too - and the comfort that you brought her just by simply being near.

"Nat? You okay?" The worry in your voice only deepens the ache in her heart.

"Yeah, no, sorry - I'm okay." She answers with a shaky nod, breathing deeply. She allows herself to feel her emotions, knowing that it would only do harm if she tried to deny herself this moment with you.

"I missed you too."

The sadness settles deep within her chest, the way you looked so shocked at her words - and she wonders if you were expecting her dismiss your words.

Her phone pings loudly from where it was placed on the table, the text tone sounding off four times in a row as her screen lights up between the two of you.

Natasha!! We've landed :D - Wanda

Sestra, we're on our way to the hotel now, tell lover girl to drop you off now - Yelena

Hi Nat, sorry again - we'll be there in 30 minutes! - Kate

I'll check us in if we make it to the hotel first, Nat, just let us know when you're there - Maria

You both watch as each text pops up on her phone, knowing that your time together was coming to an end.

Natasha watches as you ponder for a moment - wondering if you were going to add on to your words from before now that she's admitted that she missed you too. For a second it does seem like you're about to say something, but instead you just shake your head slightly to yourself, clearing your throat and as you look away, flagging down a waiter to pay for the meal you shared.

"We should probably get going if we want to get to the hotel at the same time as them."

She allows herself a moment to watch as you gather everything, absentmindedly listening to you talk about leaving now so we don't hit traffic - though I guess it's fair to make them wait, considering they made you wait like 10 hours, that's a practically a whole day wasted where you guys could've been sightseeing!

Natasha knows your putting on a brave front - she can see it in your eyes as you gather your wallet and keys, but she begrudgingly gets up after you pay for the bill, walking back with you to your car.

Already dreading the moment she has to say goodbye.

-x-

"Well, I guess this is where I leave you."

Pulling up at the front of the hotel, you catch a glance of Yelena, Kate and Wanda through the window. Even though you couldn't see her, you knew Maria wouldn't be too far away. Probably checking everyone in, you assumed as you parked your car near the entrance.

You do your best to avoid looking at Natasha, taking your time in getting out and grabbing her bags from the trunk, knowing this could very well be the last time you see her again. The thought alone breaks your heart all over again - you can recall all the times you've begged the universe to let your paths cross once more. Now that your wish has been granted and you're preparing to say goodbye to her once again, you deeply feel the loss of her from your life before it's even happened.

She's already watching you as you close the trunk. You hope that she can't see the tears that have been slowly building up since you started the drive to the hotel. You refuse to let yourself hope that the look in her eyes could mean anything order than gratitude.

"Thank you, Y/N, for today." She tells you softly.

"It's was nothing, Nat," you say with a smile, before softly adding, "you're welcome and I hope you guys have a Merry Christmas."

Getting lost in the silence that falls between you; you miss the way she's looking at you as you stare down at your shoes, waiting for her to grab her things and go so you can drive back to your apartment and sulk for the rest of the week. You wonder if she can see the way your hands are shaking as you wait for the inevitable goodbye.

"Y/N?"

You hum in response, not trusting your voice to stay steady if you decided to use actual words.

"I had a really good time today."

You tilt your head in curiosity. You've had a hard time all day trying to gauge if Natasha was having enjoying herself or not. There's no doubt in your mind that she would've said something if she wasn't.

"And it got me thinking," she continues. "I don't know- maybe I'm reading into everything wrong, and you can absolutely say no. You'll probably say no, because this is crazy, but I had to say something before I lose my mind-"

"Nat." You interrupt. As endearing as it was to hear her ramble on, to see her getting more and more flustered as she kept talking, you knew she'd work herself up before she every got to what she actually wanted to say.

"Breathe, love."

You nod encouragingly after she takes a deep breath, giving her time to gather her thoughts.

"Maybe it doesn't have to be so wrong, you know?" She starts. "To try again."

You try to hide the shock that you feel, but can't stop the way your eyes widen ever so slightly at her words. Never in a million years did you expect her to even say yes to spending the day with you, let alone suggest giving your relationship another go.

Does she mean just a friendship or an actual relationship?

Is she just saying that because of today?

What if she realises she doesn't actually mean that later on?

What if this was just a joke and she was just waiting for you to say yes so she can go "aha! I was just kidding as if I'd be serious."?

What if-

"We're different people now, don't you think?"

Confused but curious to know what else you had to say, she nods. "I'd say we are."

"We're older than we were before." You add. "We know a lot more about ourselves now, I'm not the scared kid I used to be."

You're scared of making the same mistakes you did all those years ago. But you also know that you're more than willing to learn from those mistakes; to stay and communicate to make things work instead of running away at the first sign of trouble. Because if there's anything you want more in the world, it's to make this work with her.

But just as much as you are scared, you can't help but be excited. Excited and honoured to learn more about this new Natasha, and fall in love with her all over again. You can't wait to find out what stayed the same, and what changed about her. Whatever she was willing to share with you, you'd gladly take.

"I could love you properly this time."

She gasps softly, and your heart pounds at the prospect of already scaring her away.

The thought of her friends seeing this happening through the window of the hotel briefly crosses your mind - you wonder if they'd approve of you making a return to Natasha's life or if they'll make you work for it after the way things ended between you two.

But she smiles, stepping into your personal space to wrap her arms around your neck and all thoughts leave your mind. The only thing you can focus on is Natasha pulling you closer so her words are only for your ears and your ears only to hear.

"I could love you properly this time too."

-----

@sadonism

[evelinessa]

I decided to answer all of these! If you're interested in any of my answers, you can see them below! 🥰

1. How many fics have you worked on since January?

Five works published in total. Three were oneshots, two were ongoing fics that I posted chapters for. Five published chapters in total for those aforementioned works (1 chapter for a fic I started posting for last year; 4 chapters posted for a fic I started posting for this year). One work with a finished, abridged version written, but unpublished (for a zine). I will likely finish the extended version and post to AO3 sometime next year.

As far as for the number of WIPs… I haven't kept track. I've started and worked on so many WIPs this year. At least dozens, I'd say. Aside from a few, I haven't necessarily made much progress on them, but I still worked on them, even if it was just spending a few minutes to plan or jot down more ideas.

2. What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year?

Working on and starting to publish a longfic (In Another Life), if that counts. Though when I committed to starting to post it, the plan hadn't grown to longfic scope yet, so that was kinda accidental. Planning that fic (which I'm still doing), requires very extensive plotting beyond what I've done for anything else. I even invested in a plotting software just to make it a bit more manageable.

Another new thing I tried was in A Show of (Im)perfection, where I worked hard to make sure the scene transitions from when I go into a flashback and back to the present feel as seamless as possible, making the jump less jarring. This is usually from the character looking at or doing something in the past/present that continues or is followed up by something similar in the next scene (past or present).

One more possible new thing is that I spent more time in a dream/nightmare segment (A Demon's Justice chapter 4, WIP) and played around with the illogical nature of that/some symbolism. While I have written glimpses/short parts of dreams/nightmares before, it was the first time I did something longer and more continuous.

3. What piece of media inspired you the most? (This can be the fandom you wrote the most for, the one that spawned the most ideas, the one you thought about the most, etc.)

I pretty much exclusively write for Ace Attorney, so that.

4. How many fandoms did you write for this year?

One: Ace Attorney.

5. What ships captured your heart?

It's always Mitsunaru/Narumitsu. My OTP out of any media. I'll always love them and want to create stories with them.

6. What characters captured your heart?

By extension of mainly writing my OTP, it would be the characters of the ship: Phoenix Wright and Miles Edgeworth. Phoenix got to be the POV character of most of what I wrote this year, though Miles still had a turn. Miles is my absolute favorite character, so he captured my heart even if I wrote his POV less this year. I also got to write another fic from Trucy's POV, so she got to have some of the spotlight as well.

7. Did you write for any new fandoms or ships this year?

Nope. Technically, I did start planning a WIP for a ship I haven't written before as part of a group project, but I haven't started actually writing it.

8. What fic meant the most to you to write?

It's still a WIP and not published yet, but probably The Last Day of Summer. It's a slice of life kidfic (featuring the Signal Samurai Trio) that is part one of a Narumitsu series centering around a park by the courthouse.

I love slice of life and I love fluffy kidfic. I get pretty self-indulgent and usually have a lot of fun writing it. The reason this WIP means so much to me though, is because it's something that has been in the works since around May 2021. It's also one of two story ideas I had about a year before I even started writing (both originated as comic ideas). I had already adapted the first of the two into a fic (Keeping Up Appearances) a long time ago, but this one I'm still working on. It has expanded and changed a lot since it was first conceptualized as a comic, and even when it was first outlined as a story.

9. What fic made you feel the happiest to work on?

The Last Day of Summer (still a WIP), for the same reasons stated in the previous question.

10. What fic was the most satisfying to finish writing?

I don't have many options, but probably (Just) A Haircut. It originally started as a fill for a prompt on Discord back in late 2022. I was motivated to expand and finish it for Narumitsu Week. I think it's satisfying to finally finish something that was started so long ago.

The fic I wrote for that previously mentioned zine was also originally inspired by a Discord conversation around the same time in 2022 (and also was greatly expanded during the writing process). I think that one is less satisfying for me since I still have to write the extended version at some point. So even though there is a finished version, it isn't truly finished for me.

11. What fic was the most difficult to write?

Possibly In Another Life, since the scope and how ambitious it is has been giving me trouble with plotting everything (and still not nearly done with the planning), even if the writing itself hasn't been particularly difficult (aside from the description-heavy scenes). Or it's the fic I wrote for that zine, as writing smut is incredibly difficult and stressful for me (plus it takes me forever to write).

12. What fic was the easiest to write?

Probably Where We Lay. I think I went from first thinking of the idea to being completely finished in a little over a week, all while forcing through the worst writer's block I've had. Unless something is only a few hundred words, I'm never able to write a fic (from first coming up with the idea to completion) in that short of a time frame, even in better circumstances than I was in.

13. What were your shortest and longest fics posted this year?

Shortest: Where We Lay at 2k.

Longest: In Another Life at 20.5k and 4/24 (but will likely have more chapters in the end) chapters posted.

14. What were your go-to writing songs?

I usually don't listen to anything while writing. I've sometimes listened to the AA orchestra CDs or the piano/some other remix ones, but I haven't done that in a long time. I think I've listened to a few songs with lyrics (especially on one of my fic playlists), but haven't done it enough to specify any go-to writing songs.

15. What was the hardest fic to title?

I don't have many options to choose from, but the one that took me the longest/was the most difficult was probably A Show of (Im)perfection. Where We Lay took me a bit too, but I don't think it took as long/was as difficult as A Show of (Im)perfection.

16. What's your favorite title of the year?

My favorite is probably A Demon's Justice, but since I technically didn't title that one this year, I'll go with In Another Life instead. I mean, I technically didn't title that one this year either (had a much smaller version of this fic planned & titled since at least 2023), but it at least was posted this year.

17. Share your favorite opening line

Not sure if it counts since the first chapter was published last year, but the opening line for A Demon's Justice:

The trial’s climax fast approached, and the scales of justice were tilted in his favor—as expected.

I feel like that one is the most gripping compared to the first lines of my other published fics this year, or known first lines to WIPs I worked on this year.

18. Share your favorite ending line

It's A Demon's Justice again. While it's not the last line of the entire fic, it's the final line of the most recently published chapter (chapter 3) which was posted earlier this year:

And so, he found solace in one simple truth: Miles was exactly where he deserved to be.

19. Share your favorite piece of dialogue

I love dialogue! Not sure how short it should be to consider it a piece, but I've been quite fond of this exchange (from In Another Life chapter 2) ever since I wrote it. Here's the whole scene (it isn't too long):

20. Share your funniest line

Honestly, I don't really consider my stuff funny (humor isn't one of my strong points), but I do occasionally write lines/situations and banter that I find a bit humorous, or at least entertaining. It's also usually not a single line, since most of the humorous stuff I write happens in banter.

Several of Miles and Larry's interactions in my no DL-6, college AU WIP fic (where the Signal Samurai trio play Never Have I Ever together and get drunk) fit in that category. But YMMV on whether you find any humor in it or not. I would class it as more entertaining/amusing rather than funny, really.

I included several notable moments in this fic so far, especially since some build off each other (there are gaps between each screenshot with omitted text). This was just how Miles and Larry wanted to interact with each other in this fic. Miles and Larry kept wanting to argue (lightheartedly) and it was all unplanned. I had to keep reining the dialogue/direction of the fic back on track, because they would get into it with each other every so often and sidetrack the plot lol. One of the moments where I feel the characters are more in control than I am😂.

21. What's something that surprised you while you were working on a fic? Did it change the story?

Something for this year? I guess the biggest would be deciding to add a subplot/an additional POV (Miles') to In Another Life. It's the main reason I'm still heavily involved in planning that fic before I write more. The entire fic was originally planned without having access to Miles' POV in mind (including everything written and published so far).

It changes the story quite a lot, but at the same time, not too much. It's important for me to keep (or only minorly change) all my original planned plot points, especially the major ones and the planned ending/direction of the story. I want to stay true to my original vision as much as possible, while still taking advantage of what I can do with an additional subplot and POV.

I can explore characters and relationships that otherwise wouldn't be touched on much or at all (elevating at least one character from cameo to supporting character status). It also gives me more plot moments to work with and help spread out the relationship moments and bulk up the timeline. It also gave me more ideas for relationship moments, which definitely helps as I'm still trying to think of more romance and bonding moments to write.

The negative is it does impact some plot points and I have to think about how to still have them work well. I've also thought of so much for that subplot, that it feels less like a C plot and closer to an A plot, so I might have to think of stuff to add to bulk up my actual A plot.

22. What writing programs did you use? Did you write by hand?

Scrivener mostly, as it's my main writing program. I've also used Google Docs a little, particularly when I was editing down and finishing what I wrote for that zine fic. I always do my final editing in Word, since the grammar/spellcheck is not as good in Google Docs and pretty much nonexistent in Scrivener. Also, I write into a private Discord server at times when I get some ideas I want to write down, as it's quicker and easier than opening Scrivener (I move it there later) and I can do it on the go. I've written a bit into Dropbox's text editor, as that is the workaround to access my Scrivener files on my Android phone. While I've written by hand before, I don't recall writing any fic by hand this year.

23. If you had to choose one, what was THE most satisfying writing moment of your year?

This is such a hard question, because I don't feel like there is something that really sticks out to me, especially not something that I haven't mentioned in the answer to another question.

This might not be what the question is asking, exactly, but there is one writing-related thing that sticks out to me.

Without going into details, someone had reached out to me to tell me that something I'd written had resonated with them and reading the story had given them some comfort during a difficult time. I was—and still am—touched that something I wrote was able to help someone and provide some measure of relief, even if temporary. I wish them well.

24. Did you do anything special to celebrate finishing a fic?

Not really. Mostly just relax and do something not related to writing for a bit. Sometimes I hold off on a treat or doing something else I want to do when I'm trying to finish something (mostly when I'm up against a deadline). If that's the case, then I can allow myself to enjoy it once I'm finished. Mainly, I just allow myself to enjoy the sense of accomplishment of finishing a story, as well as the dopamine hit from getting to share it and having other people read it/share their thoughts.

25. How did you recharge between fics?

Nothing specific, just relaxing/doing something unrelated to writing that I enjoy. Spending that time completely guilt free and without thinking about how I should be writing instead. This is especially the case if I finished writing something for a deadline (likely very close to the deadline), since I procrastinate a lot.

26. Did you create fanworks other than fic?

Yes! I completed one drawing (of Ema Skye), but it isn't posted anywhere (aside from in a couple Discord servers). That was after not really drawing anything for years. I want to do more, but I've gotten wrapped up into my writing and other things instead.

27. How many events did you take part in? (bangs, exchanges, ship weeks, zines, prompt memes, they all count!)

One fic for the Narumitsu Big Bang 2024 (my first bang event), one fic for the Narumitsu ship week, one fic as part of a gift event for a friend's birthday, and two fics for zines. I also tried to take part in the Supernatural Mitsunaru Exchange & Fest 2024, but had to drop out, unfortunately.

28. If this were an awards show, who would you thank?

Anyone who read my works this year, anyone who left a kudos and especially a comment. Anyone who told me (whether on AO3, Discord, or on social media) that they liked something I've written. It's always encouraging to know that stories I've created have been enjoyed by others.

29. What's left on your to-do list for 2024?

Unless I surprise myself by coming up with and writing a very short fic idea, or making a lot of progress on one of my short WIPs, I don't plan, or expect, to have anything else finished or published this year.

I'd like to write at least a little more and make some progress on my WIPs, but I've been taking a bit of a break these last few weeks, so there's a chance I might not write anything else before the year ends.

30. What would you like to write next year?

Not sure about anything specific, but I'd generally like to work more on my existing WIPs. I'd love to finish and post the remaining chapters of A Demon's Justice. I'd also love to finally finish and post the first part of The Park by the Courthouse series, The Last Day of Summer, considering how I've been chipping away at it for years, and it's one of the first story ideas I had (before I even started writing fanfic).

A slightly revised version of last year's questions! Two ways to play: Reblog and have your followers send you numbers, or answer the whole list!

How many fics have you worked on since January?

What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year?

What piece of media inspired you the most? (This can be the fandom you wrote the most for, the one that spawned the most ideas, the one you thought about the most, etc.)

How many fandoms did you write for this year?

What ships captured your heart?

What characters captured your heart?

Did you write for any new fandoms or ships this year?

What fic meant the most to you to write?

What fic made you feel the happiest to work on?

What fic was the most satisfying to finish writing?

What fic was the most difficult to write?

What fic was the easiest to write?

What were your shortest and longest fics posted this year?

What were your go-to writing songs?

What was the hardest fic to title?

What's your favorite title of the year?

Share your favorite opening line

Share your favorite ending line

Share your favorite piece of dialogue

Share your funniest line

What's something that surprised you while you were working on a fic? Did it change the story?

What writing programs did you use? Did you write by hand?

If you had to choose one, what was THE most satisfying writing moment of your year?

Did you do anything special to celebrate finishing a fic?

How did you recharge between fics?

Did you create fanworks other than fic?

How many events did you take part in? (bangs, exchanges, ship weeks, zines, prompt memes, they all count!)

If this were an awards show, who would you thank?

What's left on your to-do list for 2024?

What would you like to write next year?

[scarletttries]

When Baldur's Gate 3 Companions Fall in Love...(Baldur's Gate 3 Request)

Pairings: Astarion x Reader, Wyll Ravengard x Reader, Gale Dekarios x Reader, Shadowheart x Reader, Karlach x Reader

Author's Note: It's been a while! I haven't posted in a while but I've got some time at the moment and I'm just finishing a first playthrough of BG3 so wanted to write some headcanons for our charming companions. Consider me open for any BG3 request too, let me know if you want to see more pieces like this :)

Astarion:

- Travelling with you makes Astarion feel grateful he's had hundreds of years to perfect his flirting technique. He knows exactly how to let you know what he's thinking without ever giving away too much of himself, how to flash his smile without ever lowering his guard. He thinks once again he knows exactly how to capture your attention, and possibly your body, without losing an ounce of control. That is until you say something that catches him completely off guard...

- "I'm really sorry to hear that." You should have laughed at his expense, his self-deprecating humour and haunted tales from his past worn like the toughest armour over silky open shirts. But you hadn't laughed, or scoffed, or replied with some equivalently sarcastic tone. Instead you'd offered empathy, a warm look and an extended hand that somehow didn't feel like pity to Astarion either.

"Well that's enough self-pity for tonight my dear." He quickly excused himself from the campfire, turning his back as he entered his tent to hide any visible blush his cheeks may muster from the way you said good night. Of course his blood didn't circulate that way any more, but he was almost sure he could feel his heart rising in his chest as it had when he was still a mortal man. No, this didn't feel right at all.

- It would be easy for Astarion to pretend he was only interested in a night of carnal pleasures with you because of all the beauty you possess, and he'll let everyone else think him a shallow man just the same. But when he lets his mind wander freely it's your kindness he finds himself dwelling on, or your firm but fair moral code that seems to carry you through these intrepid lands without doubt or tribulation. He almost wishes he had met you sooner, so sure that his life (and after-life) could have turned out quite different with you by his side at those strange early steps.

- Suddenly all his effortless flirting feels a lot more challenging and he can't decide if he should risk a small amount of sincerity to let you know how we feels, or just to double down on letting you know one night with him would ruin you for any other lover. Luckily both approaches are met with the affection he craves, and slowly but surely Astarion starts to feel like he might be able to have something real for once.

Wyll:

- Ever the hopeless romantic, Wyll was already a firm believer in love at first sight by the time he ran into you and experienced it firsthand. He fears he cannot be too bold, his staunch commitment to his duties governing his life in a way that does not leave much room for any other kind of commitment. He tries to let his feelings settle at the back of his mind, in the hopes that in time they will become nothing but a dull ache he can learn to live with.

- That could not be less of the case for poor Wyll though, your face filling his every nightly dream and your voice echoing through his mind in every moment of silence. His heart grows heavier and heavier with each passing day you travel together and soon it feels almost inevitable that he will be yours, even if he can't quite bring himself to admit it yet. Once he has accepted that thought he must wrestle with the possibility that you might not feel the same and you will be added to his list of those he cares for most that have rejected him with scorn.

- Still he lets the lighter thoughts carry him through the toughest of times; what it might be like to hear you offer your own feelings back, how it would feel to see you smile only for him, what kind of life the two of you might be able to build in a simpler times, what he could finally do if you agreed to a wedding night together. He lets himself ruminate on that more often that he'd like to admit, all gentlemanly efforts banished from his mind when he sees you walk around his camp.

- While he builds up the courage to make his feelings known, you might catch him practicing the steps of an intricate dance one night when he thinks everyone is fast asleep.

Gale:

- Gale has known love and loss before, the intensity of his past life making him consider keeping his heart closed off from others forevermore. But the gods have a funny way of keeping Gale on his toes, and introducing him to you certainly did that.

- At first you are just the warmest of friends to him: an ever-willing audience for his lifetime of tales and knowledge, a reliable companion for the throes of battle, a selfless treasure seeker who helps him fend off hunger. But over time he finds himself desperately scanning his mind for more and more facts that it would be worth waking you up to share, more tales to capture your attention, anything the two of you might do together to keep your focus on him and no one else.

- It's about when he wonders if the two of you might just camp in one tent together, that he realises he no longer views you as simply his closest friend. No, you have long passed that threshold into an entirely new realm of love. It feels so different to anything he has felt before, like your company is the warmest summer breeze after decades of stormy lightning in his heart. It feels safe and easy to be with you, like he could be content with almost nothing as long as you were by his side, looking at him with your near endless appreciation. Gale can't be sure exactly what to do about it, but he hopes the next time you draw back the opening on your tent and usher him in for another night of exchanging tales, that you might permit him to never leave.

Shadowheart:

- It's hard to know love when you barely know yourself. That's what Shadowheart tells herself when she finds her mind wandering back to you after your memorable first impression. She has so much to learn about herself, and while she's grateful for the reliable company and kind sounding-board you provide, there's simply no room in her life for anything more.

- And yet the more she uncovers about herself, the more important it seems to have you by her side. It's like she cannot exist in this new fully realised version of herself if she doesn't know you. If she doesn't get to see herself through your eyes, to hear what you think, to have your presence beside her as he continues to take more and more steps forward down this path home.

- Without ever trying you have become the other half of Shadowheart, and by the time she realises it, she knows you must have the same awareness. There could be no way that you aren't as in tune to the depth of your bond as she is, leaving her only one question. Not if to address it. But when.

Karlach:

- Though Karlach may not have a traditional heart anymore, she is more than capable of falling for the travelling companion that seems to bring out the best in her at every step. After years spent working for the devil and his underlings, having someone in her life that strives to make the world better and put her strength to good use is like the first sip of water after countless nights in the arid desert of the hells.

- Karlach knows she's as strong as they come, so she finds her eyes frantically searching you out in battle, pushing herself on and raging forwards to always keep you safe, to get you behind her, to make sure you go on to keep her company another day.

- Her time in this plane of existence may be more limited than some of the other characters, but that only means Karlach knows how important it is to truly 'live.' While the other companions may bide their time and carefully deliberate how best to inform you of their inconvenient feelings, when Karlach knows your heart is true, she's going to let you know she is all yours at the earliest, and steamiest, opportunity.

[urdreamydoodles]

DC Comics Characters x Fem!OC

You smacks their ass as they walk past

Characters: Bruce Wayne, Kal-El (Clark Kent), Barry Allen, Diana of Themyscira, Arthur Curry, Hal Jordan, Oliver Queen, John Constantine, Roy Harper, Koriand'r (Starfire), Kara Zor-El (Supergirl) & Slade Wilson

After a short festive break, I'm back in force with my headcanons. My (hyper) brain has been obsessed with DC lately, so get ready for some DC headcanons with new characters I've never done before. I missed you all, love, Marie.

Bruce Wayne aka. Batman

- You didn’t mean to do it. Well, that’s a lie. You absolutely meant to do it. The way Bruce’s broad, suited figure strode past you in the Batcave was simply too tempting. There he was, the epitome of brooding composure, running a hand through his dark hair as he mulled over crime scene reports. Without much thought, your hand acted on instinct. Smack. The sound echoed through the cavern like a gunshot. Bruce stopped mid-step. Slowly, he turned his head, an arched eyebrow lifting to meet his ever-present scowl. "Really?" he asked, voice calm but laced with that unmistakable Wayne edge.

- His reaction wasn’t anger, though you could see the faintest twitch of amusement in the corner of his mouth. You, the only one in Gotham—or perhaps the world—who could dare to breach his stoicism with something so mundane as a playful swat. You crossed your arms, feigning innocence, though your smirk betrayed you. “What? Just testing your reflexes, Mr. Wayne.” He took a slow step toward you, his shadow sprawling like a cloak. “I thought you’d want to keep that hand intact,” he murmured, but there was warmth in his voice that belied the threat.

- Bruce never let much show, but you knew the man beneath the cowl better than anyone. As much as he loved his mission, as much as he carried Gotham on his weary shoulders, he loved you more. There was no hiding the way his stern exterior softened around you, how his dark eyes gleamed with affection when he thought you weren’t looking. And now, despite his unflinching persona, you saw a flicker of vulnerability in the way he lingered near, uncertain if he should let himself laugh.

- “Next time,” he finally said, his voice low, “make sure Alfred isn’t around to hear it.” His lips quirked into the barest smile before he turned back to the Batcomputer. Yet, as he walked away, you could swear he slowed his stride, almost as if daring you to do it again. You didn’t, of course. Not then. But the idea of Gotham’s Dark Knight flustered by a simple smack was too delicious to forget. And Bruce knew it.

Clark Kent (Kal-El) aka. Superman

- Clark didn’t see it coming. How could he, when he was too busy carrying three bags of groceries in each hand and balancing a box of pastries in the crook of his elbow? You watched him shuffle toward the kitchen counter, his broad shoulders filling the doorway, his wholesome, Midwestern charm radiating even in the simplest acts. As he passed, you couldn’t resist. Smack. The clap of your hand against his ridiculously perfect backside made him jump slightly, the pastries nearly tumbling from his grip. “Hey!” he exclaimed, spinning around, cheeks flushed pink.

- For someone faster than a speeding bullet, Clark sure could get caught off guard by you. His face was an endearing mix of surprise and bashfulness, and you swore the man looked like he’d just been scolded by Ma Kent herself. “What was that for?” he asked, his voice filled with genuine confusion but also a hint of laughter. You shrugged, batting your lashes. “Couldn’t resist. You’re carrying so much cake, after all.” He groaned at the pun but couldn’t keep from smiling.

- Clark, despite his extraordinary origins, was at his core a simple man. A man who loved sharing quiet evenings with you, cooking together, and pretending the world didn’t need him for a little while. He was also devastatingly kind, a trait that extended to how he loved you—with full-hearted sincerity and no room for doubt. So when he looked at you now, shaking his head with a chuckle, you knew he wasn’t really annoyed.

- “You’re unbelievable,” he said, placing the pastries safely on the counter. Then, faster than you could blink, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close with that impossible strength. “But if you’re going to tease, you’d better be prepared to deal with the consequences.” His grin was all boyish mischief as he tickled your sides, your laughter ringing through the kitchen. You swore he let you win when you finally broke free. Clark Kent, the strongest man alive, completely at your mercy.

Barry Allen aka. Flash

- Barry didn’t even stop moving. You were sure he noticed, though, because as you walked past him in the hallway and your hand made contact with his backside, he nearly tripped over his own feet. For the Flash, that was saying something. “Did you just—” he started, spinning to face you. His words were drowned out by your laughter as he stood there, red-faced and wide-eyed, his usual chatter momentarily short-circuited.

- “What?” you asked innocently, though your grin betrayed you. Barry spluttered for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck. “I—I wasn’t expecting that!” he managed, his voice pitching higher than usual. You loved how easy it was to fluster him, even though he was one of the smartest, fastest people in the world. “You’ve got to work on your reaction time, hero,” you teased, winking as you sauntered away.

- Barry’s mind was racing, as it always did, but now it wasn’t just thoughts of his latest case or some quantum theory experiment. No, now it was you—how you could so effortlessly knock him off balance with a single playful act. He adored you for it, for the way you brought lightness and humor into his often chaotic, exhausting life. You were his anchor, his calm in the storm of velocity and danger.

- Later, when he zipped into the living room with snacks for your movie night, he couldn’t resist a little payback. As he placed the bowl of popcorn on the table, he leaned in close, his lips brushing your ear. “Tag,” he whispered, and before you could respond, he darted away, leaving a gentle swat on your hip in his wake. Your laughter followed him, echoing in the space he’d just vacated. Barry might be the fastest man alive, but you were the one who always left him breathless.

Diana of Themyscira aka. Wonder Woman

- You didn’t think it was possible to catch Diana off guard. The Amazon princess was grace and power personified, her every movement deliberate, her every action precise. But when you passed her in the sunlit garden and gave her a cheeky smack, she stopped mid-step. Her head turned slowly, her azure eyes narrowing as her lips curled into a knowing smirk. “Did you just strike a warrior?” she asked, her voice a blend of amusement and mock reprimand.

- “A warrior with impeccable form,” you shot back, bold as ever. Diana’s laughter rang out, melodic and warm, her posture relaxing as she faced you fully. “You’re fortunate I consider this an act of affection,” she teased, stepping closer. The sunlight caught her dark hair, casting her in an almost ethereal glow. She was intimidating and beautiful, a goddess among mortals, yet in this moment, she was utterly human—and yours.

- Diana loved how unafraid you were of her strength, her presence. So many treated her like a distant, untouchable figure, but you reminded her that she was more than her titles or her mission. You made her laugh, you challenged her, and you weren’t afraid to be playful with her—even when it came to something as bold as this. She admired your spirit, your fire, the way you met her gaze without hesitation.

- “You realize,” she said, her tone mock-serious as she closed the gap between you, “that this is an invitation for retaliation.” Before you could react, her arms wrapped around you, lifting you effortlessly off the ground. Her laughter joined yours as she spun you once before setting you back down. “Careful, my love,” she warned, pressing a kiss to your temple. “A warrior never forgets.” But the smile on her lips promised she’d never stop loving your daring nature.

Arthur Curry aka. Aquaman

- You should have known better than to smack Arthur Curry as he walked past, the salty scent of the sea clinging to him like a second skin. The man was built like a fortress, with muscles that rippled beneath his tank top and a stride that exuded the confidence of a king. As your hand connected with his backside, the smack echoed through the cozy beach house you shared. Arthur stopped mid-step, his broad shoulders tensing. Slowly, he turned his head, a grin spreading across his rugged, sun-kissed face. “You sure you want to start this game, love?”

- He set down the fishing net he’d been carrying, his piercing green eyes narrowing playfully as he took a deliberate step toward you. You couldn’t help but laugh, holding your ground even as he loomed closer, his smirk promising trouble. “I couldn’t resist,” you said, your voice light. “It’s not every day a queen gets to remind her king who’s really in charge.” Arthur barked out a laugh, the sound deep and rich like the ocean waves outside. “Oh, is that so?” he rumbled, his hands finding his hips.

- Arthur loved your boldness, the way you matched his fiery spirit without hesitation. You were one of the few people who could keep up with him—whether it was challenging his quick temper, teasing his authority, or standing beside him when the burdens of two worlds weighed heavily on his shoulders. You weren’t afraid of his strength, his power, or the scars that told the story of his battles. Instead, you met him head-on, reminding him of the joy and levity he often forgot.

- “Alright,” he said finally, leaning down until his face was inches from yours, his grin widening. “But just remember—you started it.” Before you could react, his large hand swatted your hip, the playful strike making you gasp and laugh at the same time. “That’s for round one,” he teased, straightening as he headed toward the kitchen. “Let’s see if you’ve got the guts for round two.” You watched him go, shaking your head. King of the seas? More like king of cheeky comebacks.

Hal Jordan aka. Green Lantern

- You didn’t even plan it. Hal Jordan had been walking past, cocky as ever in his flight jacket, tossing his keys onto the counter with that easy swagger that made your heart race and your patience thin in equal measure. Before you knew it, your hand moved of its own accord. Smack. The sound was sharp, and Hal froze, mid-step, his head snapping toward you. For a moment, his mouth opened, but no sound came out. Then, finally, he broke into a grin. “Well, hello to you too,” he said, his voice dripping with amusement.

- Hal was never one to back down from a challenge, and you knew that all too well. “Careful,” he warned, his green eyes sparkling as he took a slow step toward you. “You’re playing with fire here, gorgeous.” You shrugged, feigning innocence. “Oh, please. If you’re so tough, you should be able to handle a little pat on the back. Or… elsewhere.” His laughter was immediate, loud and free, filling the room like music. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, you know that?”

- That was what Hal adored about you. He’d spent so much of his life surrounded by danger and responsibility—whether it was saving the universe as Green Lantern or pulling insane aerial stunts as a test pilot. But you? You were his gravity, his reminder that life wasn’t all about proving himself. You made him laugh in a way no one else could, and even when you pushed his buttons, he couldn’t help but fall a little more in love with you each time.

- “Alright,” he said, slipping his jacket off and tossing it onto the couch. “You wanna play dirty? Let’s play dirty.” Before you could react, Hal’s ring glowed, and a green construct of a feather appeared in his hand. “Let’s see how tough you are when the tables turn.” You squealed, darting behind the couch as he followed, grinning like a kid in a candy store. Hal Jordan might be fearless, but you knew his real weakness—your laugh, your smile, your ability to keep him on his toes.

Oliver Queen aka. Green Arrow

- Oliver Queen barely flinched when your hand smacked his backside as he walked past the kitchen counter, a bow slung over his shoulder. Instead, he stopped, cocking his head to the side with a slow smirk spreading across his handsome, scruffy face. “Well, that’s one way to get my attention,” he drawled, turning to face you. His emerald-green eyes sparkled with mischief, and you could already tell he was plotting some form of retaliation. “Should I be worried, or was that just your way of saying ‘good shot’?”

- “You’ve been spending too much time in the field,” you teased, crossing your arms and leaning against the counter. “Thought I’d remind you who really has the aim around here.” Oliver laughed, the sound warm and rich as he set his bow down carefully. “Oh, really? You think you can out-shoot me and out-smart me in my own house?” His tone was playful, but you knew the archer in him couldn’t resist a challenge.

- Oliver loved that about you—your boldness, your fire, the way you never let him take himself too seriously. It was a rare gift to be able to break through the walls he built around himself, the layers of guilt and responsibility he carried as Star City’s protector. But you didn’t just break through; you tore those walls down with humor, love, and a fearlessness that matched his own. You reminded him of the man beneath the hood, the one who still knew how to laugh and love.

- “Alright,” he said, stepping closer and resting his hands on either side of the counter, trapping you in place. “But just so we’re clear—if this is your idea of flirting, I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve too.” Before you could respond, he leaned in and kissed you deeply, stealing your breath and your smugness all at once. When he pulled back, his grin was pure Oliver Queen. “Your move, pretty bird.”

John Constantine aka. Hellblazer

- When your hand smacked John Constantine’s backside, his reaction was immediate—a sharp intake of breath, followed by a low, throaty chuckle that promised trouble. He turned to face you, cigarette dangling from his lips, his trench coat swirling slightly with the motion. “Well, well, love,” he drawled, his voice tinged with that unmistakable cockney accent. “Didn’t think you had it in you. Careful now—you’re playing with fire.”

- “Oh, please,” you shot back, smirking. “You deal with demons, curses, and apocalyptic prophecies daily. You can handle a little slap.” His grin widened, and he took a step closer, the scent of tobacco and leather surrounding you. “You’ve got some cheek, you know that?” he said, taking the cigarette from his mouth and flicking the ash into the tray. “But that’s why I keep you around. Keeps me on my toes.”

- John wasn’t used to this—lightness, laughter, love. His life was a whirlwind of darkness and chaos, and yet, somehow, you had wormed your way into his blackened heart. You brought him peace in a way no spell or sigil ever could. And while he’d never admit it outright, he adored the way you challenged him, kept him grounded, and gave him something to fight for beyond his own self-loathing.

- “But fair warning, darling,” he said, his voice dropping to that low, gravelly tone that sent shivers down your spine, “I don’t play fair.” Before you could react, he whispered a quick spell under his breath, and suddenly, your shoes were glued to the floor. “There,” he said with a wink, taking a drag of his cigarette. “Let’s see if you’re still so bold when you can’t run away.” Your laughter filled the room as he walked off, his shoulders shaking with amusement. Classic Constantine—always one step ahead, but always hopelessly smitten with you.

Roy Harper aka. Arsenal

- You really couldn’t resist. Roy Harper had been strutting around the apartment like he owned the place, shirtless, a bow slung across his back, humming some old rock tune under his breath. His cocky energy was palpable, and when he passed by you in the living room, it was instinctive. Smack. Your hand connected with his jean-clad backside, and the sound was sharp enough to cut through his off-key singing. Roy froze, turning slowly with a look of mock betrayal. “Did you just…? Oh, you’re really asking for it now, gorgeous.”

- You leaned back against the couch, smirking. “What? Just checking if Arsenal’s reflexes are still sharp.” Roy placed a hand on his hip, pointing at you with the other. “You’re lucky I didn’t just shoot an arrow in surprise,” he teased, though the grin tugging at his lips made it clear he was anything but annoyed. “But fine. If we’re doing this, let me warn you—I don’t fight fair.”

- Roy loved that you didn’t take him too seriously. In a life full of chaos, mistakes, and battles, you were his sanctuary, the one person who could knock him off his pedestal in the best way. Your playful antics reminded him that not everything had to be about proving himself or fighting the next big battle. You were his partner in every sense of the word—his laughter, his balance, his home.

- “Alright, beautiful,” he said, dropping the bow and cracking his knuckles. “You know what happens when you mess with me, right?” Before you could react, he pounced, pinning you to the couch in an exaggerated wrestling move that had both of you laughing uncontrollably. “This is justice!” he declared dramatically, tickling your sides until you were begging for mercy. Roy Harper was impossible, but then again, so were you, and you wouldn’t trade him for anything.

Koriand’r aka. Starfire

- The reaction was immediate. As your hand connected with Koriand’r’s backside while she passed you in the hallway, she stopped mid-step, her fiery hair glowing faintly as it caught the light. Slowly, she turned to face you, her wide green eyes blinking in confusion. “Was that… an Earth custom of affection?” she asked, her tone curious but tinged with amusement. You couldn’t help but burst out laughing, her innocent confusion melting any attempt at feigned innocence. “Sure, Kori. It’s totally a custom. Very common.”

- Kori tilted her head, a thoughtful expression crossing her beautiful features. “How interesting,” she said, stepping closer to you. “On Tamaran, we express affection with embraces, kisses, and occasionally by flying into the air with loved ones. But this… this is new. I like it!” Her radiant smile made your heart flutter, and you could see the mischief spark in her gaze. “Does this mean I can do it back?”

- You adored how open and loving Kori was. She embraced life with the same passion she brought to battle, and her joy was contagious. Loving her meant constantly learning to see the world through her eyes, where every experience—big or small—was worth celebrating. You could never get enough of the way she made even the smallest moments feel like an adventure.

- “You may want to prepare yourself!” she declared suddenly, her arms wrapping around you in a warm, powerful embrace. Before you could protest, she lifted you effortlessly off the ground, spinning you in circles as laughter bubbled out of both of you. When she finally set you down, she pressed a kiss to your forehead and gave you a playful tap on your backside. “This is a wonderful custom!” she declared with a bright giggle. You’d created a monster, and you couldn’t have been happier about it.

Kara Zor-El aka. Supergirl

- Kara Zor-El nearly dropped the bowl of popcorn she was carrying when your hand smacked her backside. Nearly. Her Kryptonian reflexes kicked in, and she saved the snack, spinning around with a look of wide-eyed disbelief. “Did you just…?!” she stammered, her cheeks flushing a deep red. You leaned casually against the counter, biting back a grin. “What? Just making sure Earth’s strongest woman doesn’t have any blind spots.”

- “Blind spots?!” Kara exclaimed, placing the bowl down with exaggerated care. “You’re lucky I don’t fly you straight into the stratosphere for that.” But the way she crossed her arms and pouted made it clear she wasn’t actually upset. If anything, she was flustered—adorably so. “You’re impossible, you know that?” she muttered, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her.

- Kara loved how comfortable you were around her. So many people treated her like a symbol or a savior, but you just treated her like Kara. You teased her, laughed with her, and never let her powers overshadow the fact that she was just a girl trying to navigate life on a new planet. Being with you grounded her, reminded her that even superheroes deserved to let their guard down and have fun.

- “Fine,” she said finally, her lips quirking into a mischievous grin. “But don’t think I won’t get you back.” Before you could respond, she darted forward at super-speed, giving your side a playful nudge that sent you stumbling into the couch. She was back in her original spot before you could blink, arms crossed and a victorious smirk on her face. “Kryptonians don’t lose, you know,” she teased, her laughter filling the room.

Slade Wilson aka. Deathstroke

- You weren’t entirely sure what possessed you to do it. Slade Wilson wasn’t exactly known for his sense of humor, but as he passed you in the training room, his armor catching the dim light, the temptation was too strong. Your hand smacked his backside, the sound loud in the otherwise quiet space. He stopped immediately, his head turning just enough for his single visible eye to lock onto you. The sharp, dangerous glint in his gaze made your heart race. “You’re braver than I thought,” he said, his voice a low, gravelly rumble.

- “And you’re slower than I thought,” you shot back, unable to resist. His brow arched, and you could see the corner of his mouth twitch—was that amusement? “Careful,” he warned, stepping closer, his imposing frame casting a long shadow. “You might find out just how fast I can be.” Despite his intimidating presence, you refused to back down, crossing your arms and smirking up at him. “Oh, I’m counting on it.”

- Slade had always admired your boldness. In a world where most people either feared him or tried to use him, you were a refreshing change. You didn’t treat him like a weapon or a monster—you saw the man beneath the mask, the one who carried the weight of too many sins. Your audacity, your fire, reminded him of the parts of himself he thought he’d buried long ago.

- “Alright,” he said, his tone deceptively calm as he leaned in, his face inches from yours. “But don’t forget—every action has a consequence.” Before you could respond, his hand darted out, delivering a sharp but playful swat to your hip. You gasped, more in surprise than pain, and he straightened, his smirk now fully formed. “Your move,” he said, turning and walking away with the measured confidence of a man who always had the upper hand. And yet, you could see the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. For all his gruffness, Slade Wilson was undeniably charmed by you.

[myebi]

art vs artist 2024 ✨ can't believe we're here!

i've been thinking about this year a little bit these past few days, with the holidays being under special circumstances for me. the past month passed quickly but very gently, which I'm grateful for all things considered. i think it's now safe to say that after some reflecting 2024 was one of - if not the - best year of my life. I've never experienced such a whirlwind of gratifying experiences in the span of twelve months: i met so many new and nice people, had my first con experiences in amazing settings and my first job opportunities in a field i wanted an experience in for a long time, traveled the world somehow, got 10x more attached to my characters than i already was - and I'm quitting the year with just as many projects as i did when i entered it. granted, new problems came up and still persist, but with every year that passes i get one step to catching up with the anxiety and fears that hold me back, and it's that one step that each time allows me to surpass fear and welcome something new. every leap of faith partially led to the beautiful things i experienced throughout the year like a ripple effect (partially). it's gratifying and humbling in equal measure. so cool!!

art wise, i'm a lot more satisfied with the direction my art is taking than i used to be in the past two years. i came up with brush settings that shifted my line dynamic and i discovered a new rendering technique i really enjoy that allows me to balance time-efficient with textured together. i think my art has been getting a lot more expressive and while sometimes it makes me feel like I'm straying away from a more sanitized, thought through illustrative style, maybe it's worth it for the feelings to be conveyed the way i want them to. i haven't gotten to a point where i'm experimenting with my shapes, compositions and palettes in a way that shakes up my habits in a good way, but I'll get there.

I've also come to realize while making the meme that i actually have very few finalized personal works to show this year! i made most of my personal work posts on a time rush (they usually were made for specific days). I've been working on a set of drawings that required some tweaking and a few days to sketch properly, but the result is worth it, I'm so proud of them!! i wanted to get them out before the NY but it convinced me that rendering had to take its time as well, i don't always want to rush things nowadays. being on a time limit and taking all the time necessary are both good drawing exercises nonetheless.

lots of rambling, but i had lots of thoughts. I'm so grateful that some people are still in my life as we inch toward the new year. to my moulin squad, to my tol staw, to all the new friends i made this year, to my kitty, to my family. i love you like the world. and of course, to all the people who follow my work from up close or from afar, thank you so much. to know i bring a bit of inspiration, thought and color into your day has a lot more worth to me than you can imagine. thank you for manifesting your interest and your support whenever you do!! 🙏

i hope you all have safe and healthy holidays 💛 drive safely and tell your loved ones you love them. my thoughts are with Ukraine and the people of Palestine.

[bumblingbabooshka]

Thinking about marriage/women's rights on Vulcan Some may think that T'Pring not being allowed to divorce Spock was because he was going through the pon farr but if she were allowed to divorce him at all she probably would have done that a long time ago, confirmed by T'Pol when she's speaking with Koss, who isn't suffering from the pon farr. She says that he can choose another mate (without invoking a fight it seems: note the difference between a 'mate' and a 'challenger') and after he makes it clear that nothing she says will change his mind about marrying her, she finally threatens to declare a kal-if-fee. It's clear that Vulcan women cannot divorce/refuse to marry a man they've been betrothed to under any circumstances if A) He himself doesn't consent to ending their marriage or B) She doesn't have someone else waiting in the wings to be given to in his stead. Though, if the challenger she selects fails to win the fight, she'll have to marry her betrothed anyway unless (again) he decides he doesn't want her after the challenge. That seems like an incredibly unfair system, heavily biased towards men. SNW is an alternate universe in many obvious respects but most egregiously in that T'Pring has a lot of non-canonical agency over her relationship with Spock. It's interesting to me that Vulcan society has women in many positions of power and treats women as equal to men from what I've seen despite these laws. We don't really see Vulcans exhibiting a misogynistic attitude towards women in general but in TOS (perhaps because of its general writing style but it's still interesting to note) both Sarek and Spock take on patriarchal attitudes specifically regarding wives. Amanda says that 'of course' Sarek commands her because "he is a Vulcan and I am his wife." It's worthwhile in my eyes to note that she specifies 'wife' instead of attributing this attitude to women as a whole. Again, with TOS' writing style it wouldn't be out of place for her to say "he is a man and I am a woman." Spock, while in a pon farr induced irritation, states that it's "undignified for a woman to play servant to a man that isn't hers" - again implying that there's something specific about being a Wife in Vulcan society which is different from being a woman in general and demands subservience to a husband. This could perhaps stem from the extreme sense of ownership that Vulcan law has permitted men to have over women. A woman legally cannot point blank refuse marriage. There is no option which guarantees she won't have to marry her betrothed other than death. When T'Pau speaks of T'Pring she refers to her as being 'property' and Stonn, before being interrupted, states he's made 'the ancient claim' - we don't know what this is because he gets cut off but it's obvious they're both using the language of Vulcan law. Men are permitted true freedom to choose. If a woman wants to choose someone else to be with there is no option available to her other than the kal-if-fee which might result in the death of the one she wants to be with. And, if her lover fails, her husband can still just decide he wants to marry her and she'll be forced to. T'Pring gives two scenarios: One where Spock 'frees' her and one where he doesn't - it's still ultimately his decision which is clear when he ends the conversation with "Stonn, she is yours." This again isn't just because of the pon farr as T'Pol also goes through this. Koss can choose another mate and when the option is talked about there's no implication that this would result in any sort of fight (both by the casualness of its mention and by the fact that there's no formal word for it unlike the kal-if-fee.) Also, the fact that Koss does eventually grant T'Pol a divorce and it's all fine means that T'Pol isn't lawfully required to have another man waiting if her HUSBAND doesn't want her. It's ONLY required if SHE doesn't want her husband. Tradition must take precedence over individual desire UNLESS!!! You're a man. Then it's fine. Like, your parents might not be happy but legally you're golden.

[olderthannetfic]

Ayyy, there seems to be a lot of older people among the regular commenters of this blog so I'm gonna shoot my shot and ask for advice.

Idk if it's just the clinical depression but I can't help but feel like I'm never gonna find love as a straight girl. I don't hate men at all -- I've been very lucky to be surrounded by decent dudes growing up but shit. Lookin at the state of the world rn... Gen Z dudes chugging misogynist bullshit at alarming rates, women like Gisele Pelicot going through unspeakable shit from their own husbands... it's hard not to feel cynical. On top of that the decent dudes I know irl are all taken, I don't wanna go on dating apps, and as much as I wanna fuck an older man no decent one is gonna settle for a depressed young woman who's a 4 at best...

It's not that i don't have fulfilling friendships or that I don't value them, I just want to love and care for (and get dicked down by) a decent guy who feels the same way. I've always wanted that and I don't think it's changing anytime soon. Feels impossible though. I'm not sure if I'm the problem (I'm plain faced at best, no fashion sense or charm to speak of, though I do my best to be polite and kind) or there's just shit going on I've no control over.

--

People will give you a lot of placating nonsense, but the reality is that the supply of reasonably okay straight women is much higher than the supply of reasonably okay straight men. Finding a fulfilling long-term relationship is always hard anyway, but man... straight guys really need to step it up.

That said, a lot of people in general and straight guys in particular learn a lot from the breakdown of their first marriage/long-term relationship. Just because a guy is listening to godawful manosphere podcasts today doesn't mean he's never going to be dateable later.

Research on dating apps suggests that your average guy responds to pics where women have a lot of makeup on by looking for a hookup, passes by the ones with no makeup, and finds the ones with a little lipstick or something but not heavy makeup the most dateable.

While it would be nice if appearance didn't matter, if you're really worried about this, there are some basic things you can do where you'll get a lot of bang for your buck: Find one lipstick you can stand and learn to apply it. I like Bésame Cosmetics because I am a nerd and they sponsored a local film noir festival. Peggy Carter's lipstick was from them. They have the advantage of being intensely pigmented, so a quick swipe gives full coverage. I hate having shit on my face in general, so that's helpful. If eye stuff is less bleurgghhhh than lip stuff, learn to apply eyeliner instead. There are some liquid ones I really like even if it takes some practice to get decent at painting them on. You don't need a full face of makeup or really much of anything to read as Hot Girl™ to people who don't know anything about makeup and aren't paying much attention. Yes, even if you're a 4 and it's not just the depression talking.

Charm is hard. Some things can be taught, but a lot of that's innate. Fashion, however, is not. You don't need to be a fashionista to look better than a lot of the people around you. Save your money for fewer, better outfits. Buy things that fit well and get things tailored. Don't settle for ill-fitting clothes that don't make you feel good. Look for natural fibers and clothing that will last a long time. (And if you think you have sensitive skin that cannot handle natural fibers, you need to go up several price points on your cotton. Just saying.)

You can also increase your chances by doing activities where you meet more people who might be a good match. This means finding hobbies that actually have straight guys in them and going to in-person things where you meet new people. (This sounds obvious and pedantic, but I cannot tell you how many women I know who want a boyfriend but only do social things that are 95% women and 5% gay men.)

But the biggest thing you can do to stand out is... well... work on that depression. Self confidence and obviously being in a good place in your life are very attractive. Also, the good catches who haven't been snapped up tend to be the quiet, shy people. If you have your own shit together enough to detect and pursue them, you have a better chance of finding someone great.

I get that ~fix your depression~ is not helpful advice, but working on yourself in both important and relatively superficial ways is something you can control. Meeting the right person is not.

It might help to look at this as a 5-10-year goal and/or a lifetime goal, not a "Oh my god, my life sucks this year" problem. Yes, there's shit going on that you have no control over, but if that's your career and mental health and so on, you can work on that and be in a different place in a few years.

Frankly, I think a certain amount of cynicism is warranted, but that doesn't mean there are no decent guys or that you'll never find one.

[some-ghoul]

I'm gonna ramble for a minute for something that's been eating at me ever since this dropped. I find it wild the amount of flak and hate this video is getting and from chuds who are now going to videos a decade old and saying "they've always been bad/jello fell off".

I should preface saying; I fucking love one piece. It's one of my favorite pieces of media and I have tattoos to show my love for it. I've grown up with this, I've watched the entirety of it and read it to its current release, I've done so for the past 20 years. So I really mean it whenever I say this series is important to me!

This video AIN'T fucking wrong about the points it makes and it's criticisms it has!

Luffy's last heartfelt interaction with a crew member of his was Whole Cake (before that was probably pre-time skip at Sabaody)

Anyone who isn't the big 3 don't get nearly as much screentime whenever things are happening or having a bigger role besides exposition/needs to be rescued

Don't fuckin lie to yourself about women having shit rep in OP

The sexualization of characters is a real fucking issue that so many people have with the series.

The 2 types of women in one piece boob and butt or shaped like a wide bowling pin.

Oda who has multiple times stated, "We could really learn a thing or two from Shojo writers" WHILE REFUSING TO EVEN TOUCH ON WHY PEOPLE WHO ENJOY SHOJO WOULDN'T EVEN GIVE OP A CHANCE

The series is really over-bloated with so many side characters where injuries/death means as little as it would in dragon ball I'm listing more just watch the fucking video

I had an interaction with someone who doesn't even stay up with it, watched the video, and then went, "yea I dunno he was a little mean to Oda I think that's fucked up". Brother, if this was any other random manga author you wouldn't even bat a fuckin eye about the jokes made at them. You just got a take from the comments and decided that's the one you're going with it.

Fuck, then there's the group bringing up the whole dubbing thing and like. I'll just be honest. If you're trying to spin a story to me about someone who got a dream job position, hired to do a show they hated and has pretty queerphobic rep, and instead they say tuck that and do it their way? I dunno man, that's pretty fuckin cool of someone who wouldn't compromise for their morals.

Someone tried saying one of the characters in the cut section was a trans character so it's just virtue signaling more than anything and I'm like, "ok. What pronouns do you use for Yamato then?? You apparently really care about the representation of queer folk so, OBVIOUSLY, we're not gonna have a bad discussion about this yea?"

This isn't even me trying to be like, oh I gotta defend my favoritest widdle guy who I have loved since forever. I'd do this shit on some randy who just dropped this with no other previous content!! Just because someone finally laid it all out there and took shots at the guy who's never really been criticized harshly for the bad stuff in their long running series of 25+ years and the mistakes they've made throughout it doesn't instantly invalidate the genuine issues the series has!

Also the Franky joke is funny! I sure would love more stuff to be done with that character IF ODA DECIDED HE WOULD WANT TO DO SOMETHING WITH THE CREW THAT WASN'T JUST FROM THE EAST BLUE!!

The first So This is Basically in many a moon.

CAST & CREW

WRITER/ANIMATOR/NARRATOR - Me! ARTIST - Bo Hello MUSIC - PLASTERBRAIN

MACHVISE - William T. Sopp PRINCE GRUS - John Van Doran MORLEY/CARROT/SHITTEN☆FARTER - Zack Maher DON KRIEG - Jason Marnocha ZORO - Cyrus Rodas VIZ USING TWO HYPHENS INSTEAD OF AN EM DASH - Oz Ryan ADDITIONAL VOICES - Ryan Palmer

[sk-lumen]

Another dating tip that so many women lose sight of is this:

Stop giving the men you're dating an instruction manual on how to woo you! This sounds self explanatory, but many miss the point.

While at first glance it may seem like a good idea to give the seemingly good guy in front of you a clear idea on what you're looking for ("I want a provider man who buys me flowers and takes me on nice dates")... it's actually just giving him a roadmap on how to make you fall for him. He might just want to play you. He might actually really like you so he wants to get on your good side...regardless on whether he actually DOES do those things normally.

See the problem?

So, don't blurt out your "dream man" checklist. Take it a step at a time, go on a few dates, organically get to know him better, and analyze on your own (without spilling the beans to him on everything going on in your head, because it's none of his business) whether this man is the kind of partner you're looking for.

And if the answer is no, remove yourself from the equation. You don't need to justify or offer explanations in all the ways they don't meet your requirements (other than "Sorry, I'm looking for something else. Thank you for your time.")

I've made this mistake early on, and the only thing it lead to is heartbreak - because I had been honest and upfront about what I wanted (something I viewed as a positive thing at the time). But guess what? He liked me so much that he convinced himself (or tried really, really hard) to be that kind of man for me for a long while until he realized it wasn't him, and it's not what he wanted in a relationship. But by that time, there were already deep feelings involved and the whole ordeal was just painful to end because we weren't looking for the same thing.

[antimony-medusa]

But what do you MEAN this fic where blorbo gets mind controlled might be kinky?

So I am kind of famous for saying that this fandom has a lot of untagged kinks and I get people in my notes pretty regularly going YES I"M BEGGING YOU TAG IT or YOU"RE DERANGED THIS IS PLATONIC, etc. Lots of strong emotions. But I also get people who are going uh, I knew something was going on, but I couldn't really identify it— what do you mean exactly? What kinks are you seeing?

So, this post is breaking down things I've seen and how in some cases, they start to cross the line into kink territory. These are all things that were being done platonically— no dicks were out, everybody's clothes were on (in most cases, not always with the dehumanization tropes)— but the focus of the narrative started to place special weight on specific features, experiences, or concepts— there were extended paragraphs that served no narrative purpose except to dwell on something— in a way that I started to go "the point of this fic is the squiggly feeling the author or reader gets on reading about this specific setup— this is getting kinky". And that is fine, I am not placing any moral weight on engaging in kinks— people just get wired sometimes to really like the concept of bondage— but a) sometimes it would be nice to get a heads up as a reader, b) if you like these things— there are tags out there that are FULL of this concept, you might like to do it or search it out on purpose.

So I asked some friends what things have they found in platonic fics that they went "ah. yeah. something is happening here", and this post is the result. A lot of these things don't exist in the real world or people don't necessarily want them to happen in the real world/to them, so it's understandable that a person can miss how they'd started to morph and become something new. But when we talk about kink in fiction we're often talking about things that either can't or we don't want to happen in real life, it's just that reading about them/writing them scratches our brain.

And also, to be clear, in no way do I mean that if you've written these concepts then you definitely have been writing kink. There are vanilla ways to do all of these concepts, and sometimes the idea of dehumanization is interesting to you from a narrative standpoint, for example. You can also engage with them in a non-sexual way— many ace people are very kinky— so I'm not saying that you've secretly been writing porn OR writing something you have a real desire to happen to you. Just to make that clear. However, if you keep coming back to a specific setup for writing or reading, it might be worth investigating if certain things scratch your brain in a specific way.

So.

Blorbo gets mind controlled and there's a detailed breakdown of their descent into this altered state and then they're just so biddable and out of it and vulnerable and the narrative places weight either on someone taking advantage of them in this state, taking care of them, or their own subjective experience having lost control: this is hypnokink. Hypnokink or mind control— lots of ways to do it, but there is a thriving hypnosis or hypnokink scene that you might want to look into. Sometimes this is played for horror, but even the horror stuff can be kinky if played in a certain way. This falls under a larger umbrella of "altered states" that is very popular.

Blorbo gets drugged/intoxicated, often against their will, and heavy narrative weight is placed on their experience while drunk/drugged and unable to control themselves or conceptualize what is happening: this is intox kink. Another altered state— and again this is sometimes used for horror, but even the horror can give you the special tinglies if the dread is mixed with something.

Blorbo is turned into a vampire or taken by a vampire, gets drunk from or drinks blood, and there's specific narrative focus on how good the blood tastes, blood from a wound trickling down over someone's body and maybe being licked up, a hunger being sated— so vampires are a longstanding trope that can be done in a strictly horror way, but a LOT of vampire tropes are deeply kinky along the ideas of possession, loss of bodily autonomy, fear/desire, and consumption. This, for example, I have definitely read dipping into bloodplay or consumption kink. Sometimes blood drinking scenes are directly metaphorical for sex, including narrative tension building to a release where someone feels so good, but also there are other elements, such as a focus on blood that gets kinky.

Blorbo has wings that get preened, and it feels so good they can't hold back instinctive movements and sounds (maybe bird sounds) and they're so grateful and bond so much with the person doing it with them— This is wing kink. This is actually the first trope in this fandom that I identified that some things were happening with, because I was reading these fics that had been recommended to me as family fluff going— am I crazy or is something else happening here? Wingfic has been broadly used as a platonic/familial trope in this fandom, however, the structure of the scenes in which it is written about sometimes has heavy crossover with wingfic in other fandoms, where they are using it as a smut trope— the fic just didn't have anyone literally orgasm at the end. But if there's involuntary sounds or movement from the person with the wings, a focus on how pleasurable it feels, a feeling of release or rightness that someone gives the person with wings, and then they cuddle afterwards— yeah.

Blorbo is terrified and chased by a monster of some kind, with a heavy focus on how frightened they are, how inexorable the monster is, and something bad going to happen, and/or the monster chasing them enjoying their terror— this can just be horror. OR it can be fear play or predator/prey. Sometimes it's both.

Blorbo is confronted by monsters (perhaps giants or aliens) who are much bigger than them and the threat of being eaten by them is narratively focused on, either bitten or swallowed whole. Sometimes in the narrative the eating happens, either safely or to their death— this is vore. Being eaten alive is also a horror trope so it isn't always vore, but it is sometimes most certainly vore.

Aliens or monsters/hybrids much bigger than blorbo have them as family/friends/romantic partners/captives: this is giant/tiny. Sometimes just a science fiction au but if there's a lot of weight being placed on how big they are and how small blorbo is, this could be g/t. Borrower aus can frequently start to fall into this category. If they're not THAT big but there's focus on things like "oh they can span my waist with one hand", this can be size kink, instead. (Note that to my knowledge the platonic version is giant/tiny and sexual is micro/macro— there's a thriving platonic scene I sometimes see when I'm cruising tags, so if you like this you might want to check that out.)

Blorbo is non-consensually touched, cuddled, or modified, and narrative focus is placed on this as a violation/outrage/loss of bodily autonomy: again, this is something that can just be a horror trope, but there is often a larger or smaller strain of consent issues in it. If blorbo doesn't want it at first but eventually feels at home in the nest and feels good, that's dubcon (dubious consent), and if they are fighting it and raging against it and will never be part of your family, that starts to overlap with noncon (non-consent). Blorbo's bodily autonomy is being non-consentually violated, which would put it under the consent issues umbrella. I think many people writing these tropes are simply focusing on captivity and bad things happening to blorbo— when one is a prisoner they automatically lose bodily autonomy, and I don't think that every fic set in a dungeon requires a consent issues tag— and additionally many people are writing from family settings that include bodily autonomy being violated (being forced to hug your aunt you don't want to hug, for example, is an example that many of us have experienced). Not every example of non-consensual touching is always consent issues. However, when the narrative focus is on the outrage and betrayal of it all, the loss of control, and/or the helplessness, this can start to serve a different narrative function in a story than simply illustrating that a family is touchy. I have read scenes that structurally function as a thinly-veiled metaphor for sexual assault, including things like blorbo being held down while they fight against what is being done to their body. Some of these could have used additional tagging. Note: because this is such a hot button topic I should mention that if you like writing or reading this I do not think that means you are a fan of violence happening in the real world— a) reading a bad thing happening on the page makes it containable and controllable in a way that the real world does not, people also like to read about murder and dismemberment— b) simply the presence of a happy ending tag on a fic contextualizes that the bad thing is something to be passed through in a way that again, the real world does not offer. This is a similar thing to torture, suicide, or slavery, where sometimes you want to see blorbo have a bad fictional time specifically in things that would be terrible in real life, and in your real life you do not condone police brutality or want these things to happen. Again, sometimes people like to read about people being eaten alive, and it does not mean they condone wolves on the streets.

Blorbo is captured by alien/fae and kept as a pet, sometimes kept in a cage or collared, unable to communicate with the people holding them: this is often tagged as dehumanization and it is that, but it also starts to contain elements of pet play. If there is an emphasis on having to eat pet food, be "trained" by their owner, leashing/collaring/crating— this may be pet play.

Adult or near-adult blorbo is adopted and take care of by a new dad who knows everything to keep them safe and loves them and can take care of them and they can just let go and be their new sonboy because Dad's got them: Right. So this is sometimes just someone writing a "wouldn't it be nice to be taken care of" fantasy. Sometimes this is Daddy kink. This is almost never tagged and in some cases that I have read it certainly deserves an additional tag. An adult Daddy or Mommy figure taking care of their adult Little who can just be taken care of and not worry is a d/s trope. In some cases, where you have an established adult with a job who gets taken by magical means who then finds their true home as a powerful being's new child where they don't have to worry about their former life and they mentally find comfort in their new role as sonboy, this may also be Caregiver/Little. Direct age regression (often written by people who experience it) is usually tagged appropriately, but narrative elements that nod to that while not actually being age regression, such as an adult being now treated as a child and the narrative presenting that as good, are remarkably common and often entirely untagged in certain tags/circles. If someone could look at your fic and expect adult peers and then this happens, you should consider tagging or phrasing your summary differently.

Blorbo has hybrid instincts that overcome their cognitive functioning and make them revert to an instinctive form such that they can only be calmed/soothed by another hybrid of a different type: now this at this point is basically its own trope and I am fascinated to see if this trope expands out of MCYT as people move to new fandoms. However, it shares a startling amount of overlap with omegaverse. One of the primary draws of omegaverse for many people is the biologically determined altered states and the fated-mates aspect, and hybrids reverting to instincts and needing particular care from a perfect family is often beat for beat things I've read in omegaverse, just platonic. When you have a biologically determined "protector" figure and a biologically determined "runt" whose job is to be taken care of and to submit to the protector, and this is required to calm the protector, it also has strong overlap with BDSM aus.

Blorbo is captured or contained and tied up, and narrative emphasis is placed on their experience of being bound and struggling against restraints or just how impossible to escape from the restraints are: this is bondage. I have had friends who are into this mention that they used to tie up their barbies as children, so again, as with all of these, this can be perfectly platonic— but something about that concept just seems particularly satisfying to the writer, perhaps it is more than just set dressing.

Blorbo is captured and there is strong emphasis on them being hurt or the waves of pain rolling over them as they are tortured: this is just an honourable whump trope, but a lot of whump tropes if handled in a specific way have strong crossover with BDSM. Lack of ability to move or restriction of senses, loss of control— or, as with this, an emphasis on pain or inflicting pain, which can cover sadism or masochism depending on our POV.

Blorbo is overwhelmed and only finds comfort in submitting to the authority of someone who they completely trust, whether because of past trauma or because of hybrid instincts: this is d/s, or domination/submission. If there's specific emphasis on allowing someone to take control finally makes blorbo's head go quiet, that's subspace.

Blorbo is marked or indicated as belonging to someone, either through something like an earring or a brand/tattoo or a magical mark, so that anyone who looks at them will know that they belong to someone: again, this can just be horror, but especially if it's framed as a good/satisfying thing, it also can contain strong crossover with BDSM, especially master/slave elements.

Blorbo is transformed and corrupted, often being bodily changed into a new form by aliens or fae or mobs: this is obviously body horror, but this can also be transformation kink. This is a narrative trope in SF and horror so someone can approach this completely innocently, but when handled in less of a horror way, it can take on other undertones. If there is a strong emphasis on the innocence and unprepared nature of blorbo before being changed into what someone wants them to be, this can be corruption kink as well.

Blorbo dresses up for a fancy event and there's emphasis on how specifically they look, or maybe blorbo is looking at someone else and thinking about how THEY look in their formalwear: sometimes this is just description and/or the author likes textiles. I have also read things where I think the author would get a lot of joy out of pursuing the formalwear kink tag.

Blorbo finally gets told that they did a good job and everyone is complimentary or a specific trusted figure is complimentary, they're appreciated and loved and good: sometimes this is just someone writing a fantasy of blorbo being appreciated. Sometimes this is praise kink. If blorbo is being held by their parent or mentor or trusted elder sibling who is telling them that they're good, everyone is wrong about them, they know that they're good, this could be praise kink.

Touch-starved blorbo finally is given good touch and they are overwhelmed and don't know how to handle it and it feels so good: I did even know this was a thing until I asked for examples, but a friend let me know that this falls under the "touch sensitive" or "sensation play" umbrella. If you have spent time in a touch-starved tag, you have almost definitely seen this.

Blorbo is overwhelmed and bursts into tears and either cries a lot or heavy narrative weight is placed on them crying at important moments when it all becomes too much: this is not always, but can certainly be, dacryphilia.

Blorbo fucks up and is made fun of by all their peers, placed on centre stage and just mercilessly mocked: sometimes you are just whumping the character, and sometimes this can be humiliation kink.

Blorbo is tickled. That's the whole scene/fic. Okay so you actually may know this if you cruise character tags, but tickling is a kink and there are several blogs devoted to it on this website. If the whole point of this scene is the tickling, the character losing control and being overwhelmed, the person doing it to them having them at their control— this may be the kink.

Blorbo just keeps sneezing at inopportune times, they keep losing control and can't keep themselves from being overwhelmed by this: this can be sneeze kink.

Blorbo has finally made it to safety, maybe after a time of privation and starvation, and then there's whole scenes with an emphasis on how much they eat, how full and round they're getting, maybe them eating to the point of getting sick, maybe burping, maybe them having difficulty moving because of how much they've eaten. Food as part of recovery or safety can just be a healing trope, and food as a metaphor for love and community is a favoured tag of many of us in the fandom, but if the emphasis is especially on the eating and the getting full, how full the person feels, how much they can eat— this could be feederism.

Blorbo is injured or killed and there's a huge emphasis on the wounds, dismemberment, focus on gore and how bad it is and how much they're coming to pieces: this can be guro. If the person dies at the end of it and there's emphasis on that, this can also be snuff. Or maybe it's just gore/MCD, but some fics and some scenes dwell on it in such a way that you start to ask if this is intended to be horror or if something else is happening.

Blorbo is dressed up beautifully and looks so good in their new outfit, maybe to the point that the person who dressed them doesn't want them to move, just sit and be admired: this can be dollification, or kinking specifically on being dressed.

Blorbo is going through a medical examination and specific focus is placed on the impersonal aspect, being manhandled or examined by tools or gloved hands, they are the somewhat-dehumanized medical subject of professionals: this is sometimes horror or dehumanization, but it can also be medical kink.

__

So. As you can see. There are a lot of possible kinks that can be handled in a platonic way, but this doesn't mean they aren't kinky. This isn't even everything possible, this is just what came up when I asked the group chat what they personally have seen where they feel that a platonic fic could have used additional tagging.

I am not saying that any of this is wrong to be interested in these kinks, either. People get wired a lot of different ways and sometimes you just feel a certain way about formalwear. Or bondage. Or vore. Or tickling. My point is just that if any of this resonates with you, you might want to consider adding extra tags to your work (you don't even have to tag "humiliation kink," "humiliation" works just fine), and you also might want to consider checking out some tags, because there is probably a vibrant community of people who also like that and who would both love your work and would love to share their work with you.

That's it. Go with god. Now if people are going to be in my notes going HOW CAN SOMETHING PLATONIC BE KINKY I have something to link them.

[nondelphic]

creatives, please use alt text

one of the first things i learned in journalism school was how to write alt image descriptions.

at first, it felt tedious. every single photo or graphic required a description, and if we skipped it—or wrote a lazy one—our professors didn’t hesitate to fail us. at the time, i didn’t fully understand why it mattered. but now, i’m so grateful they drilled it into us. if i’d never gone to journalism school, i might have never known how vital alt text is.

for those unfamiliar, alt text (short for “alternative text”) is a written description of an image. it allows people who use screen readers to know what’s in an image, making content accessible to those who are blind, visually impaired, or have other disabilities that prevent them from viewing images. you're basically translating visual content into words.

as creatives, whether we’re writers, artists, photographers, or meme page admins, we have a responsibility to make our work accessible. after all, what’s the point of creating something if a huge portion of your audience can’t engage with it?

why alt text matters

it ensures accessibility - a visually impaired person using a screen reader should be able to understand the context of an image just as easily as a sighted person.

it’s inclusive - adding alt text isn’t just for people with disabilities. sometimes, images don’t load due to bad internet, and alt text helps everyone understand what’s missing.

it’s good practice - if your work exists online, you want it to be as widely understood as possible. accessibility makes your content stronger.

okay, but how do i write alt text?

writing alt text isn’t as hard as it might seem! here are some tips:

be concise but descriptive - describe the essential elements of the image. what would someone need to know to get the gist of it?

include context - if the image is part of a larger story, explain its relevance. for example, “a black cat sitting on a pumpkin, used to illustrate a halloween-themed story.”

don’t overthink it - you don’t need to describe every pixel. just focus on the most important details.

alt text and ai tools

in the era of chatgpt and microsoft copilot, we’ve got a major advantage: ai tools can now generate alt text for you!

while these tools aren’t perfect and often need a bit of tweaking, they’re a great starting point. platforms like adobe, microsoft, and even some social media apps have built-in options for generating descriptions. if you’re overwhelmed by the idea of writing alt text from scratch, let ai do the heavy lifting, and then refine it.

a creative responsibility

alt text isn’t just for journalists or big companies, it’s for all of us.

as creatives, we have the power to make the internet a more inclusive place. whether you’re posting a masterpiece, a meme, or a picture of your cat, take a moment to add alt text.

adding alt image description is SO EASY and quick and we all need to get better at adding it to our posts. i, myself, am not perfect. on here, for example, i've been really bad about writing alt image descriptions, and it's something i'm very disappointed in myself for. (i hereby pledge to do better, and please call me out for lacking in the future!)

writing alt text is not only about respecting your audience, but it's also about recognizing disabled people's right to engage with your work.

accessibility isn’t optional !!

[your-hockey-mom]

I'm having a shit day, I need Quinn to fix it

Please and thanks

Rain, rain, go away, come again...when you didn't have a hundred errands to run and were short on time to do them. Naturally, it would pour the entire time you were out and about, and your umbrella had decided to break the first time you went to use it. It really set the tone for the rest of the day; a terrible foreshadowing you had hoped wouldn't be the case.

The only reason you were out running those errands in the first place was because you had taken the day off to make sure everything was nice for when Quinn got back home. You knew he was going to be exhausted after finishing another six straight games on the road. Plus, you wanted to enjoy the evening with him knowing nothing would be looming in the back of your mind that would take away from your time together. However, since the minute you got up it was like everything was stacked against you. You had slept through your alarm, getting up almost two hours later than you had intended. You thought you had plugged in your phone but hadn't make a proper connection so your battery was at 12% to start the day. And to add insult to injury (literally), you had dropped a glass while in the kitchen and had cut your hand while trying to pick up the pieces.

Today was proving to be one of those days that were best spent at home, but unfortunately, that wouldn't be the case for you. By this point, your phone was now sitting at 6%, because you realized, after you had left the parking garage, that the charger you left in your car was in Quinn's. You just hoped it would hold on long enough to get you home.

You would be stopped at a red light, mid rush hour, when a message would ding in. It was Quinn and the dreaded text you didn't want to come across your phone until you were already back at his apartment.

"Hey baby, we just touched down. I'll see you soon. I love you."

"I might not be there when you get home. Stuck in traffic. </3 I love you, too. <3 <3 Also, phone is about dead. >:("

"Just be careful. I've missed you."

"I've missed you, too."

- - -

Getting everything out of the car had been hard enough, but carrying them with your cut palm was the worst. Being half asleep and dealing with broken glass was not a good combination, something you would note for the future. Sure, you couldn't have texted Quinn to see if he would help you, which you knew he would have, but you were determined to get it done yourself.

When you stepped into the elevator, from the parking garage, all you could think of was "please don't break down. I do not want to walk up the stairs. I do not want to be trapped in an elevator with a dead phone." Thinking it was a bad idea to put such thoughts into the Universe, you'd just count floors instead until you reached Quinn's.

It was a struggle to unlock the door but you had managed though your hand was burning and you were pretty sure you were bleeding again. Just something else that would get tended to later. Once inside, you'd drop everything at the door and Quinn would come from the bedroom to greet you.

"Oh sweetheart, why didn't you tell me you were downstairs? I would have helped you with all of this." He wrapped his arms around you and you melt into his body. "I have missed you so much."

"I'm so glad you're home." All of a sudden and without warning, you begin to cry. Likely a culmination of trash sleep, stress, no food, and pain. Your body and emotions were just fried; not to mention you hated when he was gone for so long.

"What's wrong, baby?" Quinn would say softly, gently tightening his hold on you. "Are you alright?" Anytime you were having a rough day, he was the first person to notice and always did everything he could to make you feel better.

"No," you said, hiding your face in his neck. You weren't ready to have him see how much you were struggling.

"Why don't you go sit, hmm? I'll get this."

"I wanted to have everything done for you but today has been awful."

Quinn pulls away from you just enough to tip your chin up towards his face. You can't escape him now and the look on your face makes his puppy eyes heavy with emotion. "Oh, baby~"

He kisses you several times, each one of them sweeter than the last, yet the tears still continue to fall from your cheeks. "Come on, this stuff can wait."

Taking your non-bandaged hand, he ushers you to the sofa where he insists you sit in his lap so you can be as close to him as possible. You loved moments like these just on better circumstances than today had given you.

"Baby, you're bleeding. What happened?"

You had reached up to brush some hair from your eyes when he caught sight of the bandage now tinged bright red in the center. You dropped your hand to your leg and shook your head. "It's nothing. Just a clumsy accident."

"Let me see."

You refuse, sniffling and trying to hold back the welling tears.

"Please?"

Damn those eyes of his; damn the tone of his voice that just took your breath away. You could never truly tell him no and this was no different. You'd turn your palm upwards when you presented it to him, scared it was worse that you thought it was initially.

"May I look at it?"

You just nod, before laying your head against his shoulder. You didn't want to see it and you knew him pulling back the adhesive of the bandage was going to hurt, even though he had the softest touch.

Quinn was always so careful with you; always asking for permission especially if it would potentially cause you pain. Slowly he'd remove the bandage and you would wince against the discomfort even though he did everything he could to make it easy on you. "How did this happen?"

Quinn's tone conveyed deep worry and hurt and that didn't give you the reassurance you were hoping for.

"This morning. I got up late, and was half asleep taking my vitamins and I guess my hand just stopped working and I dropped it. It shattered everywhere. I didn't realize I had grabbed the raw edge until it was too late and I cut myself."

"Oh sweetheart," Quinn whispered laying his head against yours. "Want me to fix you up?"

"I'll get it."

"Please?"

Twice now, he had used that word with (that) tone, and twice now you would fold without another chance to resist. Again, you would silently nod, letting him slip out from under you while he disappeared into the bathroom for a few moments. You remembered how you had left it and it made you feel worse, but when he returned, the only thing that mattered to him was making sure you were alright.

"You said today was awful, how come?" He talked to you while he worked so to keep you from focusing solely on your hand and the pain. Everything he did was so thoughtful.

"I stayed up too late watching The First 48, then I slept through my alarms this morning, so I was two hours behind. I guess I hadn't clicked my charger into my phone fully so it didn't charge. I dropped the glass. I didn't get the apartment cleaned. I didn't get the laundry put away. I forgot my charger was in your car. My umbrella broke." With each added reason for the bad day it made you more emotional to the point that he had to stop cleaning the cut to lay a hand on your leg and try to calm you.

"Shhh, baby, baby, it's okay. None of that matters now. I didn't expect you to be waiting for me at the door. I'm just glad you're here now, but I'm sorry you had such a hard day. The apartment is fine, please, don't worry about it."

"But...I left the bathroom~"

"I don't care about it. Honest. I want you to feel welcome here; I want it to be your home. Home should feel lived in." Quinn leaned forward to kiss you yet you frown. You still felt so bad for everything not being done like you wanted it to be. "If you're here, that's all I want."

"You're so nice," you squeak out, hiding your face with your free hand. You don't realize you were breaking his heart, feeling so bad about missing your self-imposed marks.

"Sweetheart, will you look at me, please?"

Dropping your hand, you let your eyes be exposed though you keep it pressed to your lips.

"You're the only thing I care about when I'm here. If you're okay, I'm okay."

"But I'm not okay."

"And I'm not either. May I finish this for you?" His smile was so sweet, so heartfelt as he held your injured hand in both of his. When you answered "yes, please" Quinn brought it to his lips before finishing what he had started. With each new step of the process, he'd check in with you before continuing. He didn't feel that you had any glass in the wound or that you needed stitches, but he didn't want you to do too much the next few days.

"Alright, babe, all done."

"Thank you."

"Of course. Anything for you," his smile continues. "How about you go change your clothes, get into something comfortable and we'll have a lazy evening in bed. I'll get the groceries put away and we'll order take out. How's that?"

"Do you want some help?"

"No babe, I can get it. It won't take me that long, but thank you. I'll meet you in there, okay?"

"Okay." You give him a kiss as a thank you, later apologizing for your mild breakdown earlier.

"It's alright. You're only human, sweetheart and you had a bad day. I can't say I'd do much better. I'd never judge you for anything like that," Quinn replies, holding your face for another kiss. "I promise."