#idk if last tag works or not but i can't come up with any thing better

[peanutalergy]

Mr. Winston - SR x reader

The BAU doesn't really need your help with the case. Spencer does. tags: post prison! spencer, fem! child psychologist! reader. cm type violence (blood, murder, etc), traumatized child. pre-relationship yearning MAYBE ? maybe fluff also sorry i still don't know how to classify these things. the synopsis doesn't really make any sense because this is kinda spencer's pov but idk guys sorry im really tired. w/c: 1.5k (this was originally 5.4k words but then i reread it and found that i actually hated every single one of them so...) a/n: okay so wow... i had so much fun writing this (let's ignore most of my posts from the past two weeks) THE THING IS i sorta already had a pt2 to this but then i thought well we can't have that without the beginning so i did kinda write this in a rush im really sorry that it's so short and shitty. . . ALSO i really love this reader & i'd love to write more of her but if you don't like it then i don't like it either and i'll never write again if you tell me not to. i do not think this is good by any means. i do hate it but if i stared at the google docs page for any longer i'd go insane.

Spencer doesn’t treat her like she’s made of porcelain because she’d be easily broken (though, she would, but neither of you say that since you can tell how hard she tried to look strong before coming to the precinct). He treats her like she’s fragile because he can’t remember the last time he didn’t break something like this — wide-eyed and shaking, holding onto something soft like it’s the only real thing around.

He was the one who convinced the team to ask for your help when the kid got involved — he always is. They insisted it wasn’t needed, you can deal with her yourself, you’ve always been good with children, or whatever, but your office got a call from him anyway.

No one knows why he sticks around. Maybe it’s the way you hold her; the gentle hand that runs through her hair, much warmer than the tiny fingers with chewed off nails and blood stains. Maybe he’s trying to memorize the tone of your voice — soft and sweeter than the apple juice she didn’t open, rambling about the silliest things you can think of — to imitate it next time he finds himself having to question kids. Maybe it’s the teacup in your other hand (the one he made you) and the way you so casually sip from it. As if this delicacy came to you as easily as taking a breath, while he struggled even with breathing.

Either way, despite his hesitance, he’s always sure to be around if you’re working on a case with them. Watching from the corner in a way that might have seemed creepy if only you didn’t smile so often back at him.

Amelia Murphy, 6 years old.

She sits at the end of the couch, legs tucked up to her chest like she’s trying to make herself as small as a crumb on the untouched sandwich going stale by her side. Spencer stands at the edge of the room, a smile threatening to peek through as he listens to your stories about the stuffed animals on your bed.

“You can’t tell any of his buddies, okay?” she nods, small but enough for you, “Mr. Winston is my favorite teddy out of all the ones I have.”

“Why?” You and the agent have to hide a surprised expression at the sound of her quiet voice, ragged and hoarse, coming out for the first time tonight. 

“Because he’s been with me since I was very, very young.” You chuckle lightly, “I must’ve been around your age when my grandma gifted him to me.”

“How do you know my age?”

You look at Spencer. He takes that as an ask for help (it really wasn't) and moves before you can speak again, still as careful as possible as he sits on the armchair next to the couch and joins in on the conversation like you suggested to him so often. “We don’t, actually.” She doesn’t flinch like he feared she would, so he continues with a soft smile, “I’m sure my friend was just trying to say she was young, like you are.”

Amelia tilts her head, small brows furrowed as softly as she mutters, “Really?”

“Yeah.” He nods, “We don’t really know how old you are.”

“I’m… six.” Her fingers, miniature sized when compared to Spencer’s, struggle for a second before arranging into a six, “This much.”

You smile and pretend to write it down on your clipboard, “That’s a lot.”

He laughs in half disbelief, half joy when she asks, “Well, how old are you?”

“Do you want to guess?”

“Uhm…” Tiny hand scratching her chin, she examines him like she knows what she’s doing. He looks to you in pure confusion during the seconds she stays quiet. “A hundred?”

He holds back a snort, “Not quite, no. Do you wanna try again?”

During most of the time he talks to her, you stay quiet. He often looks to you, hesitating, asking for some sort of reassurance that he’s doing this right — you always give it to him with a barely there nod and a big smile.

Always, except for the moment he started talking about his job in almost too much detail when she prompted what are you?. Though, that time, he didn’t need your confirmation or denial to figure it out. All it took was a different knit to her eyebrows for him to go back into smaller than regular talking tone, from the bordering robotical lecturing mode.

“I wanna be a model when I grow up.”

“Oh, yeah?” you giggle breathily. Thankfully, she doesn’t take it as an offense like both of you thought she would. She just nods back at you with a proud smile. 

“And do you know what models do at their job?” Spencer inquires.

“They sit pretty in their pretty clothes for the people to watch,” the girl shrugs, speaking in the same way one would say the sky is blue. “Like her.”

He laughs when she points at you. “Being pretty isn’t all she does, though, Amelia. She’s not really a model.”

“She should be,” she whispers and you pretend you don’t hear it.

“Yeah, she should.”

He’s still careful even in the way he looks at her. Like she’d feel his cold hands if he said something too loud, too much. Every time she shows any sort of reluctance, he goes even softer — like he’d learned from uncountable hours of watching you do this over the years.

The very first time you met — interrogating an unsub’s daughter, before all of it happened. Before Mexico and Maeve and Gideon and Dilaudid and Emily. Before his jaw was screwed permanently clenched and his brain painted foggy. When he didn’t think of himself as a ticking time bomb and wasn’t scared of what he saw in the mirror.

Even when he didn’t feel this way about children as well as every other aspect of his life, he admired your work and yourself. So, it only makes sense (to him) that, when he sees himself as some sort of monster, you look like you’ve hung the moon and the stars even though the only thing you’ve ever been is yourself.

“And, uh, Amelia…” he mutters, pointing to the stuffed bunny in her hands, all love stains and frayed stitches, “Your friend over there. Does he have a name?”

She shakes her head, then spins it around to show the bow hidden on the back of its head, “She’s a girl.”

“Oh, yes, of course. I’m so sorry,” he laughs awkwardly.

“She doesn’t have a name.”

“Is there a reason for that, sweetie?” you ask as soon as there’s a pause from both of them.

He just watches with a grin while you work with her to find names for her teddy.

The markers were Spencer’s idea. He didn’t mean for it to be anything more than a way for her to express herself — you’d both been drawing animals and trees and numbers. Though, when her page became full of red scribbles and what seemed to be portraits of her parents, you realized she might have more to say.

“Who are those people, Amelia?”, he places a hand on her shoulder. She’s so focused on her tiny fingers wrapped around the marker, that she barely shows any reaction to him. When her bottom lip goes wobbly and her hands impossibly shakier, he takes away the paper with a “Okay, that’s enough.”

She fell asleep on his shoulder after half an hour of sobbing while telling what she remembered of the story.

He can’t help the warm feeling that floods his chest when you tell him, “You did a good job.” after getting as much as one can out of a kid who just witnessed her parents’ murder. His expression and words go against it, though. With a small shrug, he mumbles, “Oh, it was nothin–”

“No, don’t do that,” you cut him off, “You did really well.”

“You would’ve gotten her to say a lot more in a lot less time. It takes you an average of five minutes and for–”

“Shut up,” a giggle.

“Would you please stop cutting me off?”

“Not until you admit that you are actually still amazing with kids.”

He sighs. “How’s Mr. Winston?”

“No, no!” you slap his arm playfully, “You don’t get to change the subject by mocking me for my friends.”

“I’m not mocking you,” Spencer raises his arms in defense, a smile brightening his face. “I’m trying to get to know you and your friends better. I can’t do that anymore?”

“Not if you’re mean about it,” arms crossed over your chest and a half fake pout on your lips, you mutter.

“When was I mean?” he cocks his head to the side.

“I can tell from your tone of voice. It gets higher and weirder when you lie. You’re not the only one who knows about psychology here, buddy.”

He just shakes his head with a laugh. “I’m being serious. How are they doing?”

“Well, if you must know, they’re doing amazing.”

“I’m glad.”

It takes 43 (he counted) chimes of the clock on the wall for anyone to say something again. It’s him, in a whisper, “Do you really think she liked me?”

00:09 doctor reid genius guy

Amelia’s aunt just picked her up. She said her bunny was now named Mrs. Winston.

[sylusgworl]

HOT AMERICANO ft. sylus

content: alternate universe, implied f!reader, fluff, sylus is a bit of a bully n overbearing, reader works at a coffeeshop, sylus can't flirt for the life of him, so he just uses intimidation and hopes for the best kinda xx

a/n: so, i just kinda wrote this at 3am and idk it made sense when i was typing it, idk if it makes sense now, so uh just leave it or take it *cries*. wc. 974 . rbs are very appreciated <3

m.list

your days have been monotonous for a while. wake up, get ready, off to your job, then get back home.

it really put you in a bad mood for some reason.

at 8:30 you'd reach the coffee shop, spend six hours there dealing with grumpy costumers and a low paycheck, then you'd come back home, exhausted, only to repeat the same thing the next day.

you thought you'd never get a break from the stillness, stuck in a never-ending loop, waiting to break the curse.

“hi, what can i get you?” you politely ask the umpteenth costumer, your gaze not even raising from your feet as you wait for them to answer.

“an americano. hot.” a magnetic voice reaches your ears, so captivating you feel compelled to raise your eyes and meet its owner.

the man doesn't look over thirty. his slender finger tap on the table, while his eyes are locked on you. ruby eyes.

you feel so small under his gaze, feeling piecered by thousands of daggers.

the fascinating stranger wears a leather jacket, black, that compliments his fair complexion and silver hair.

“cat got your tongue?” you're suddenly pulled out of your in depth analysis.

your face flushes, as you stagger, muttering a “oh yes. it'll be ready in a bit?”. it sounds like a question, even though it is not supposed to. you want to smack yourself. what a good way to ruin your reputation, caught red handed as you're gawking at a random stranger.

except he's a fine looking stranger. extremely fine.

he hums in response and you excuse yourself, almost sprinting as you quickly shift behind the counter.

you finally put yourself to work, except you now feel a pair of eyes studying you, watching your every move. you think you're just imagining things. except, when the coffee is ready, as you place the cup in front of him, you meet his indecifrable gaze.

“here,” you mutter and almost shove it against him. his eyes hide a hint of amusement, although you can't tell much by his illegible countenance.

you turn around, ready to leave, when he calls out to you, “you got me the wrong order, sweetie.”

you don't like how the pet name makes you feel, at all. you inhale, exhale, then plaster a smile on your face, “let me see, you asked for a hot americano?”

“yes i did. i don't think an americano has any milk, does it?”

you freeze. your eyes meet his, then slowly glide down at the cup. latte art is the first thing you notice. oh no.

with a mortified expression, a chain of apologies leaves your mouth, as you try to take the cup awa from the table. what a day.

“leave it as is. when do you finish work?”

“in thirty minutes,” your answer is involuntarily instant.

“i'll drink this,” he points at the cup, his hard features now molded into an entertained expression. you notice the corner of his mouth is slightly raised upwards.

“but in exchange, you have to meet me as soon as your shift ends,” his tone is beguiling, is invitation even more. but you don't understand the reason for it.

“it's not a problem for me to remake your drink, sir. it'll be on the house,” you try to wiggle your way out.

but the bemused look doesn't leave his face, as he pushes his upper body forward, reading your name tag.

“miss [last name], looked inappropriately at a customer, mixing up his order and wasting his time,” he says, his tone stern, not loud nor quiet.

heat spreads out on your cheeks, as you bite your lip nervously, doing your best to avoid his eyes.

“alright,” you say. you're too tired to even ask for the reason why he wants to meet you. maybe he wants to beat you up, then quietly dispose of your body. he does have the look of a gangster.

probably, he'll even call his sidekicks to do the job. you chase that though away, biting your inner cheek.

either way, you're not too upset about your supposed approaching death.

“good girl,” your heart makes a leap. you nod and run off, hoping and praying he hasn't noticed your reaction.

you hope time freezes.

except what feels like an eternity finally comes to an end, and you find yourself out of the coffeeshop door.

he's leaning against a car, one that you couldn't buy even if you saved up all your paychecks for ten years.

you nervously approach him, feeling out of place.

“you’re here,” he walks towards you, until only a few inches separate you two.

you look up to meet his eyes, before involuntarily stepping backwards.

“i don’t bite, kitten,” he says, lowering his head to meet your height.

“so,” you clear your voice, “may i know what you need me for?” you ask him, averting your gaze. you don’t care if you sound too brusque, you can’t wait for things to get done quickly.

a chuckle leaves his lips. “oh, you’re decisive. i like it,” he says, the last words almost whispered to the wind, as he takes a small paper from his pocket and scribbles something on top of it with a pen.

“here, take it,” and you grab it right away, almost enchanted.

“i don’t think we can do anything today, i hope next time you won’t be trembling as much as today, i prefer it when you’re fierce, kitten.” he turns around, “oh, and i’ll be waiting for a message,” he finishes.

time doesn’t allow you to find words of rebuttal.

he turns around before you can formulate an answer and drives away, leaving you and your piece of paper.

your eyes slowly look at it, heart thumping fast, and still refusing to believe the last interaction was real.

04 xxxx xxxx

— sylus qin

he left you his number.

© sylusgworl - 2025, all rights reserved / i don't allow anyone to copy, repost on other platforms or sell my works.

[mybelovedwoo]

yunho as boyfriend, please 🩷🩷

The long-awaited yunho boyfriend headcanon is here!!!

jeong yunho as your boyfriend - headcanon

headcanon, romance, fluff, smut

reader x bf!atz

wc. ~ 0.7k

an: i know this took soo long to write, but I actually had a really busy time since I last posted one of these TT but as summer is here now I'll hopefully have more time to write

you can request headcanons if you want to!! if you want to be tagged in any of my fics you can apply here <3

masterlist

- the funny golden retriever boyfriend, who never fails to make your mood better and to make you smile (it's his personal goal in his life, to make you the happiest, and he really does)

-just as to everyone, he is your sunshine, your happy pill, the reason you smile every single day

-he is also the  "college boyfriend" kind of vibe, who is the love of your life and will be your husband in the future

-he always texts you no matter what, if his phone is in his hands, then he's most definitely chatting with you. also if he can't say anything else, he'll send you memes (it's one of his love languages)

-loves treating you with gifts, would most definitely bring you flowers on date nights, but don't forget about the bag of snacks and chocolates he always brings you on the first day of your period (he even tracks it on his phone, so he can be prepared)

-he's a gamer boy, so it's no surprise he loves it when you make interest and ask about his game, not even talking about when you ask him if you can play with him

-lots of inside jokes

-he is a big act of service guy. absolutely loves cooking for you or making you coffee before you wake up in the morning

-he never lets you pay for anything, even if you beg him. he thinks it's a gesture he is supposed to do as your boyfriend (at least that's what his father taught him)

 -gets embarrassed very easily when you compliment him, he gets all shy and giggly, sometimes you do it on purpose, just to see his flustered face because it's the cutest

-he communicates problems so well, that you barely ever fight

-carpool karaoke dates, blasting your favorite music and don't care what other people think of you

-this man has endless energy, so he's never tired of doing anything for you or being with you. when you call him, he's right there just for you

-holding hands 24/7, even if it's too hot outside and your hands get all sweaty, he just doesn't care

-he loooves it when you pamper him, with kisses, or caress his back

-he asks for your opinion on everything, if you don't like something then he doesn't like it either. your opinion is the most valuable thing for him

-goofy nicknames that don't even make sense but you can't help but love it

-somehow always knows what you're thinking about. when you feel uncomfortable in a situation, he's right there for the rescue, tho you didn't give him any specific sign, he just knows you too well. or when you come home from work, you haven't spoken yet, but he knows by just looking at you that you had a bad day and ready to cuddle you all night long

-idk he gives off shy kisses vibes with lots of giggles, but when it's really intimate he just holds your face in his big ass hands

nsfw +18!!!

-okaay hear me out, he is probably a switch, but mostly a bottom. he just loves it when you take control, it's his favorite thing

-he would prefer the good old cowgirl position, but anything, where you're on top is his "favorite", at least that's what he says

-but there are times when his dominant side comes out and ohh boy, you are so blessed to experience it

-when he's in that mood, he just rails you with no mercy. he has to let out all the tension and there's no better place than in the bedroom

-he does magic with his long fingers, takes you to heaven then brings you right back to earth

-he likes doing it in a chair with you on top, of course, he likes the closeness and loves holding you during it

- sex with him is anything but boring, yeah it's really sweet with a lot of emotions, but it's also really passionate and sensual. he would recommend new positions and toys all the time, he likes experiencing

-for places, I think he's a traditional in-bed kind of guy, he likes to stay comfortable 

-holds your hand and whispers sweet nothings into your ears, he talks you through it (with a really low and raspy voice)

-you have sex max three times a week, especially after a date night it's an essential

-his libido is quite high since he's a dancer, he can go multiple rounds in one night

-he likes to cuddle after, holds you in his arms. after a couple of minutes, you both just fall asleep right there and then

taglist: @dinossaurz (you can message me if you want to be added or removed)

[starberry-cupcake]

I'm back too soon, I'm sorry, I didn't let the last recap marinate enough and that's never a good idea because you can't keep up BUT WE'RE DONE WITH DAY FOUR!!!

previously, in nona del 9:

this happened

this is the general tag, for the uninitiated

CHAPTER 18 (eight house????? mayonnaise uncle???? duracell bunny nephew???? are you with us????)

angel teacher decides to write down an inventory in case they get looted, so that people don't ruin the kids' things

she also orders sriracha girlie to go turn down the generator

it's like when sam jackson was ordered to turn the power back on in jurassic park, idk about that

camilla trips, angel teacher caches her and I'm here thinking if camilla just stole something from her, because she'd never trip in her life

luckily for me, angel teacher asks about nona's drawing

she asks her, specifically, how she drew it and if she had seen what she draw in the picture

nona says she made it up and describes what I think might be an animal

"See these things? They're its ears. This thing is its nose, and you can't see it because I didn't draw it, but the mouth is under here. When first it was born, it used to live in a river, but then it got cold so it had to get large. I know the legs can't rotate, but you don't think that's stupid, do you?"

I thought it was an elephant, because of the ears, nose and lack of mouth in the drawing and legs that can't rotate, but idk about the river and the cold

maybe it's a mammoth

maybe it's a new zealand animal that's going over my head

maybe nona calls flippers legs and it's a whale, for all I know

in any case, DON'T TELL ME

camilla says she hasn't seen it before and angel teacher says it's a "cradle creature"

I was suggested to look up things I don't know in an online dictionary and, if it's not there, assume it's a book thing, but it's not working out with this

camilla (or maybe palmolive) says "I've heard that phrase. Somewhere" and angel teacher says "Have you?"

so maybe it is a book thing

this might be an animal that hasn't been seen by people at this time

like a mammoth for us

or a dodo

or the girl in waterworld who drew land things

and this is a point for the ice cube barbie theory, like the hokey pokey was

so, at this point, palmolive goes "fuck it" and throws caution to the wind

he doesn't say it outright, but I'm assuming it was his thought process

he asks angel teacher if, at some point, she received medical attention from the nine houses and if she's got an implant

this is noodle in that moment:

angel teacher understands, with that, what camolive might be

she goes "my colleague thought you were a prossie" and palmolive goes "What I know about sex work could fit in a teaspoon and leave a lot left over"

the intricacies of pimping and the ins and outs of sex work are very frequent conversations in this school

which is a lot more than I can say for the state of fundamental sex ed in a lot of places with conservative governments that obscure whatever can guarantee safety for all and the accessibility to education with diversity as a key part of it

and ban books, films and conversations about it

ANYWAY

they talk about the nickname the kids gave her and she says it's sriracha girlie's fault because she overheard things she doesn't understand

angel teacher is reticent towards palmolive and tells him that, if he gets close, she'll jump out a window and her body is "designed" to deny him answers

angel teacher thinks camolive is a lyctor, that they did something to her when they fake tripped, and that she might have messed up in some way, which prompted them to come out to her

palmolive swears on the life of camilla that they aren't a lyctor

angel teacher goes "Then that'll make this easier"

and my heart nearly stopped at that

WE KEEP PUTTING CAMILLA IN DANGER

CHISUS CHRIST

angel teacher, I respect you a lot, but if it's between you and camilla

nona is sitting on the ground in the blue light of varun, because she refused to leave camolive alone

and sriracha girlie enters and sees her

next nona knows, she's having the worst headache of her life and everything is a mess around her

when nona comes back from the blue screen in her head, after feeling like her brain was being squeezed out of her skull, she hears a voice cursing and trying to cancel something

angel teacher and the new person are, according to themselves, pretty fucked

new person says "You should have thought of that before you started playing teacher with the frigging Troia experiment"

angel teacher is clearly out of her depth here

I'm wondering where the fuck my wife is and if she's ok

angel teacher says she was trying to protect the kids, which I can appreciate and understand, but right now it's hard to be objective with them

WHEN I DON'T KNOW WHERE CAMILLA IS

MY REACTION REQUIRES A VIDEO, NOT GIF

angel teacher tells the other person "You discharge a firearm with me in the room, you'll get court-martialled and hanged"

which, again, makes me think...is this the most important vet in the planet???? what's this authority level?????

other person says "We play our cards right here, I can get Suffer out clean. Hell—I play this really right, nobody's going to know a thing until it's too late"

which immediately makes me think this is pash

it's insane to be on this side and know how much these people are playing with fire over here

I can't understate what a bad fucking idea this is and the only thing that can save them is that camolive and nona aren't into murdering for sport

but they're even pushing that

unknown person I think might be pash wants to finish off camolive and nona, but angel teacher is like

we suffer really has to deal with people going off like this at the worst possible moments

nona gets up and she's shot at so she gets mad because that's rude af

angel teacher is crying and saying she's sorry

but nona looks for camilla, which THANK YOU

camilla is lying on the ground, holding two bullets in her hands

she gets up and asks for an update

THAT'S FIERCE

SHE'S SO AMAZING

*absolutely insanely dangerous situation* me: where is camilla?????? camilla: *totally alright, holding bullets in her hands or having left lots of people lying on the ground and covered in someone else's blood* me: is this an awkward time to propose?

nona recognizes the other person as pash, with her distinctive machetes, but her way of talking shit and of ruining stuff was already a dead givaway

camilla asks pash why they weren't told angel teacher was one of them and pash is very quick to make clear that camilla isn't part of them

imagine not wanting camilla as part of whatever you're in

can't relate

I can't believe I survived a whole book with her showing up like only two times

IT'S FINE, I'M MOVING ON, I PROMISE

pash gets angry at nona because she made a radio call to coronabeer and nona says it was a pretend call

I KNEW THEY WERE GONNA FALL FOR THAT

I KNEW IT, I SAID IT HERE

angel teacher is like "that's the crown you always talk about?"

how many crowns do you think there are here, angel teacher?

is it a common name?

pash tells her "you just called wipe protocol on the fucking Lyctor project"

none of this is planned at all and we suffer is gonna be killed by high blood pressure with these people

angel teacher tries to stop whatever thing she unleashed and calls herself "the messenger"

not easy to stop people once you tell them to shoot freely

whatever merv wing is, I don't think they're stopping

angel teacher accepts camilla's help and says "I did call for you to be shot, though"

camilla says "No problem. So long as I can let out some deferred aggression"

nona is asked to go to the kitchen but she chooses to stay by camilla instead

when asked what she really wants to do, though, nona says she wants to find sriracha girlie

camilla is hesitant, because sriracha girlie saw something

I'm hearing alarms in my head at this, but nona, of course, is not

we're gonna regret this

pash thinks she can order camilla around and camilla is kind of like "I don't understand you very local jargon, so whatever"

not in those exact words

nona takes some time to think that pash is pretty, that her eyes are lovely and that her electric blue hair is cute

nona is easily distracted with people she thinks are pretty

because then she thinks she wants to marry camilla and adopt a dog with her

which, GET IN LINE, NONA

I WAS HERE TWO BOOKS BEFORE YOU

AND WE'RE ADOPTING KEVIN

palmolive has to agree to that too, though

MOVING ON

nona goes to the generator room to find sriracha girlie, who's curled up and has thrown up

she is saying that she made something up, which nona agrees with, even if she doesn't know what it is

I'm sure she didn't make anything up, this is all insane as it is

sriracha girlie happens to have a gun on her person

I'm worried she might have already used it

and she proves me right when she says she remembers shooting nona in the head

nona tries to lie and gaslight her

nona also feels disappointed that she won't see camilla fight

which, I relate, because we've seen her fight and

nona restrains sriracha girlie so she stays there while the whole fight is happening and, once over, angel teacher comes to retrieve them

nona asks about camilla and pash's status and angel teacher says "cuts and scrapes", which checks out with the absolute goddess, icon and legend that is camilla

sriracha girlie, upon reaching the classroom again, realizes she did shoot nona

camilla and pash have a moment in which they say the same thing and look at each other

YOU ALSO GET IN LINE, PASH

sriracha girlie is retreating, though, and I'm thinking this is it with this friendship

nona is embarrassed about sriracha girlie seeing her dead but there's no time to be embarrassed when you're getting shot

"You're out of the gang" says sriracha girlie, before shooting

so, the party is officially off, my friends

the girl who is in a cumple 24/7 has lost her party guests

JOHN 5:1

this part of the bible is when jesus heals someone who can't walk

which is, again, very telling

we find dr reverend emperor john setting a car on fire

he continues narrating his problems with getting people to listen to his ideas and plans and how he wanted them to do something about it

then, him and his team finally veer towards justice league territory and consider it's on them to save the world

P, who I'm assuming is our friend pyrrha, tells him that, in order to get them to do something, they need to scare them

so, in comes a mystery client

they ask dr reverend emperor john boi to make a puppet out of a person so it looks like he's alive

they offer him a lot of money for it, so they all consider it

meanwhile, the government and other suits continue the FTL project and are determined to ship billionares out into space

this is sci fi, nothing like this would ever happen in real life, right?

RIGHT?????

"a's little brother" (alfred?) says "money is one big shared hallucination" and ain't he right af

they all think there's something sus about the whole operation

mercygirl and augustine are in agreement and a united front, which scares everybody

they were probably already fucking

sorry, very rude of me to say, I should be more respectful

they were probably already pre-planning the lyctor orgies

so dr reverend emperor john butt, mercygirl and augustine go to the client's place and turns out the client is actually a country and the puppet is actually a leader

it remains unknown which and who

the country representatives give tons of reasons why dr reverend emperor john should go full on gepetto on this guy, but we all know he always acts like he's thinking about it but does it anyway

I don't think he thought that hard about it at all

so augustine, mercygirl and johnny boi start negotiating with these people and end up getting a couple billion doll hairs and a bomb

I'm sure that'll go great

CHAPTER 19 (THE TOMB!!!!!!)

nona wakes up, has been sleeping on chairs and has her legs and arms tied to them and a radiator

rip to you all, BOE or whoever the hell you are

nona has a tantrum

her third tantrum, she says

apparently, they're bad enough that camilla and pyrrha let her swim in the ocean to calm down, even if it's dangerous

so, nona screams as a warning to everyone that shit's about to get very real very fast

since I don't know where camilla is, I'm good, let her loose

you do you, nona

live your truth

fuck shit up

she breaks herself to escape the ties, one part at a time

there's a moment where she thinks "The plastic ties were good, like Corona had said"

and I was like "corona???????? what about crown???????"

I think it's the first time I read nona call coronabeer "corona" and not "crown"

it's not like nona is super strong but she's resilient, so she can kick shit down with patience and regeneration

I respect that

she sees people with pash's boots and has a moment of intense anger against pash for everything that went down

I mean, lying to sriracha girlie and making friends with her in the first place was on you, but still I don't know where camilla is, so by all means, nona, fuck shit up

they shoot her, as if that did anything, and she perseveres

she chases those who keep on shooting and they scream, running away, which is both fierce and kind of funny

nona screams and that makes the person running from her put their hands over their helmet

they drop a bag over her head and immobilize her so she starts to power down

"Inside the hood she heard her mouth say, savage and distinct and cool despite the trembles: 'Fool. You're killing her.' But she was only talking to herself, after all."

HOW MANY PEOPLE ARE WE KEEPING IN THIS GIRL?

IS THIS A CLOWN CAR?

I'm still rooting for the ice cube barbie theory somewhere in there

BUT HOW MANY SOULS CAN WE KEEP IN ONE PERSON?

JOHN 3:20

"Everyone who does evil hates the light, and will not come into the light for fear that their deeds will be exposed."

dream pov (who was referred to as harrow but doesn't sound to be her) says she forgets how to breathe sometimes

girl, same

dr reverend emperor john says they had three stages for their plan: 1) keep talking, 2) throw money, 3) reveal nuke

"We were willing to gamble on being tried at the Haugue just to stop the process. Ready to make a hell of a mess to buy time. Prepared to do anything to keep you going"

we keep talking to this pov as if she was some earth princess idk

"C— kept saying. Pick one. Are we more invested in proving this new plan is bullshit or in saving you? I was like, It's both, how can it not be both. C— was like, It can't be both. Pick one and stick to it. Decide what you give a fuck about"

saving earth princess personification who might or might not be ice cube barbie???? idk

"I found that the problem with being the death man is you stop giving much of a fuck"

girl who is referred to as harrow (but might be earth princess ice cube barbie or whatever) gets spooked about having goosebumps and dr reverend emperor john has to explain its mechanics

this is another thing to note

nobody is taking notes anymore because there's a war, so I'm keeping the notes myself

the authorities doing the project that they all think is sus continue to be sus and offer to choose 200 people for the first wave they're sending off to space

the final frontier

everyone apparently falls for their bs

they then claim they're starting to build the ship they need to send the first wave off

god and lyctor gang realize easily that they're full of shit and none of the stuff they seem to be doing correlates with actual things they should be doing if they were doing what they say they're doing

you get me?

so god and lyctor gang go to the authorities like naive kids and the billionares lie about it

who would have thought billionares lie????

according to him, they keep using the cows against him

that's kind of funny

they decide that, if they treat them like they're a cult, they'll be a cult

not like it already wasn't on its way there, honestly

a slippery slope that turned into a toboggan real fast

so, john god asshat decides to drop the science and start the theater

he starts calling himself a necromancer

*dramatic pause*

that's really interesting, actually

because we start this journey just taking necromancy for granted, it's interesting to see it originating as something science-related and then being named that as a sort of theatrical way to call people's attention

it's interesting to see a journey in which this came to exist that isn't just "necromancy exists in this universe", which would have been totally valid too

but here we see that it's actually something else that was named this way to make it seem more attractive to audiences, which is an interesting level of storytelling

very cool

AND THAT'S IT WITH THIS DAY!!!!! this is a long one, I was gonna do two chapters but then the next two were short enough. As a bonus, here's Dana who was looking at birds while I was reading this part in the backyard.

[erinwantstowrite]

do you have any advice how to get over the fear of posting fanfiction?

idk if you would relate to that but for some reason I just can't publish anything online that isn't my original work, idk if I'm scared that fandoms are going to bully me or that nobody will read it or something else

I know these fears are irrational, but I would love to hear if you had any advice for me

you gotta jump headfirst into it. like this:

when i was 13 years old i wrote a mary sue oc for a marauders fanfiction, named Lana Portland, who could see the future and fell in love with Sirius Black. her one goal was stopping the prophecy and saving everyone, but she died, came back to life at her own funeral, and then disappeared off the face of the earth because she lost her mind. what happened to her? she could only have a sane mind while she was an owl, her animagus form, but no one knew she was an animagus. you'll never believe what owl she was: Hedwig.

if the Erin writing to you right now was the Erin from about six years ago, they would NEVER have admitted that. however, the Erin I am now can. why? because the embarrassment i felt when i turned 15 and hated looking at it has worn off.

Now Erin has finally come to terms with the fact that being "cringe" is a hell of our making. 15 year old Erin was absolutely sure they'd get bullied to hell and back if anyone knew what they had written at 13. they were much more mature than 13 year old Erin, because they wrote Voltron fanfic, not Harry Potter

being scared of what people thought of my writing was a huge obstacle to overcome, and that's because writing is intensely personal

at first, i wrote my Voltron fics with the fandom in mind. i really wanted some validation, but i was miserable and hated writing. eventually, i went back to my roots of just... writing with only myself in mind. and i was happy again, posting with barely any thought to if someone would like the fic. so sure, reading any of my old works would make me want to throw myself into a pit of fire, but there's something freeing about knowing i had posted them. i am where i am now because i hadn't worried about what people thought of it when i was writing it.

over the years, i've found that fics i wrote that were intended to make absolutely everyone happy with me were my worst fics. i didn't enjoy making them, and people still found a way to be dissatisfied with something i've done. the fics where i do absolutely anything i want, even if it ends up making no sense, were the fics i had the most fun writing. and i didn't regret making them

all this to say: treat your fanfic like it's your own original work, have your fun! don't worry about if people tell you "Character would never do that, you are awful." because 1) who cares, and 2) you can block them, and they can block you

now let's say you're no longer scared of getting dunked on for your writing, so you posted it. good job! now you're wanting people to read your work, but you're scared they won't.

this part is complicated because you could do all the "right" things and still get nothing. that can be making sure you're tagging your fic correctly, or making a bunch of posts about your fic and asking people to read, etc. so, before you focus on getting more people to read, you should remind yourself that even if absolutely no one reads your fic, that doesn't mean you should be ashamed of your work. this also ties back into being content with your writing and doing it for yourself first and foremost.

my favorite fic i've written is "Coffee Jelly Disaster." it's only 900 words, it's not nearly my best writing technically, and barely anyone has read it. that last part ate at me when i first posted it because i thought more people would read it. but i still love it! it's so simple and i had fun

when i started writing LoF it was just for me and my friend, and then it got popular because i made a couple of silly tiktoks, which were also for me and my friend. i hadn't expected so many people to tune in when i started, because i had a couple of well read fics before, but nothing like this.

you don't have control over that kind of stuff because there's a lot of different favtors. and it really depends on what fandom you're writing for, too. Saiki K is not nearly as big as Spider-Man and Batman.

so the way i see it, if you post and get two hits and one like, that's still somebody out there who saw your work and wanted you to see they liked it. if you never post it at all, no one will. you gotta take the first step forward to get somewhere, and eventually you'll be running. we end up regretting our inactions the most

[satyricplotter]

kori x reader x dick 🤨🤨???!!!!!!!!? 🤲🤲🤲🤲 pls give it to me

here u go boss 🫡🫡

pairing: dick grayson x koriand'r x reader word count: 3k wtf rating: explicit warnings and tags: mentioned human trafficking ring + sleazy men involved appear briefly, misogyny from said men, drugs mentioned, reader is kept gender neutral but they have a pussy and i mention a chest spilling over, kori tops reader 👍, implied established polyamorous relationship notes: this got out of my hands like five times and if i didn't cut it there idk where it would've ended up. i also wrote a whole backstory for kori and reader that didnt make the cut jfshafdjs

Dick comes home late that night from work.

A hard day at work, if he does say so himself, though pushing around papers is hardly what anyone at the tower would call difficult. No, what's hard is all the posturing, the pretending Dick has to do in order not to blow his cover. He and his team have spent the last month infiltrating a company seemingly involved in a human trafficking ring, trying to dig up evidence on the men financing it. Dick's background means he's gotten stuck playing the part of young master trying his hand at accruing his own wealth through fast, if unsavory, methods, which means he's the one dealing most closely with the possible culprits. They seem to like him so far (eugh), and they're not shy about their exploits, which means the team's on the right track. But it also means that every night he clocks out, when the smoke of the cigars burns his throat and their booming laughter grates in his ears so badly he can feel it in his teeth, he can't help but wish someone had invented decontamination showers for after wading through moral filth.

They hoot and laugh when he gives his excuses, holler about him being pussy-whipped and won't he let them take that little foreign model of his for a ride, and Dick has to throw his head back and laugh instead of crushing their windpipe in his hand. He imagines it vividly, however, and that makes his fake glee a little sharper. Perhaps this is what does it.

"As if I'd ever let you lay a hand on my woman, Stevie," he snorts, and for once he means something he says within these walls. "I can tell you've got a heavy one."

"Damn right he does!" Someone laughs.

"I wouldn't do that with yours," Stevie insists, a little too brightly. Whatever they'd been snorting in the bathroom earlier is running his course through him. "I can tell she's good quality—a real T10. Not like the others."

Dick tilts his head, seemingly confused. T10—that's code. Tier 10s are the people they sell at the closed auctions for the elite. The man next to Stevie shoves him at the shoulder, displeased, and Stevie half sobers. Dick raises an eyebrow at the man—Fred is his name, he thinks.

"You know Stevie," Fred says, winding an arm around Stevie's neck and pressing his face to his shoulder. Stevie coughs, but if the mild asphyxiation bothers him, he doesn't make any other sound. The atmosphere's a little gelid now. "Can't trust what he says."

"Mm. That's still my wife he's going off about," Dick says coldly. That seems like the move. Fred's sizing him up.

"Of course." Fred smiles widely. His teeth are perfect. He grabs the back of Stevie's head and pulls it up so he's looking up at Dick, pupils blown wide. Dick can only hope he doesn't pee his pants. The day's been long enough. "You wanna say sorry, Steve?"

"S'rry," Stevie slurs.

Dick rolls his eyes. "Whatever. Keep him in check."

He turns to leave, not hiding this time how miffed he is as he gathers his jacket from the valet, and has almost given up on this interaction when Fred calls his name. Dick looks over his shoulder, impatient.

"You should stick around after work tomorrow," Fred says pleasantly. Eyes carefully bland. "Stevie and I will show you a little something to make up for today, yeah?"

Gotcha.

Dick shrugs, appeased. "Sure thing," he says, and books it back home.

Doing undercover work has a few upsides. The first of which is he doesn't run into anybody as he makes his way to the high rise apartment he's been leasing for him and Kori. The penthouse takes the whole floor, and nobody stays there past six on Dick's orders, so he doesn't have to worry about dropping his suit jacket on the floor, hanging his tie from a sconce as he goes. His dress shoes end up somewhere behind him, each in different places, and he's rolling up his sleeves, unbuttoning his shirt as he rounds the corner to the kitchen. Hanging out with these dudes always makes him feel filthy, and he can't wait to make use of the massive bathtub in the master bathroom. Second upside.

Here's the third:

Kori looks up at him, a beautiful, broad smile breaking on her face. "Hi, baby!"

She's dressed very prettily today. Her thick mane of fiery hair is gathered high in a pony, the visor she'd been wearing earlier in the morning nowhere to be seen. She'd switched the polo for a tank top that Dick eyes appreciatively for how low it sits on her chest, but she'd kept her tennis skirt and high socks on. The skirt, a beautiful baby pink, is pulled up enough by the movement of her hips that Dick can see the the straps of her harness peeking under the fabric. Pink to match.

You, in contrast, are wearing nothing. Bent over the kitchen island, hands clawing at the other edge, your face contorts in a dry sob as Kori drives her hips into yours, relentless. Dick can tell you've been at this for a while. Kori smooths a hand over your lower back, happily loving, and you make the weak effort to pull yourself to your elbows. This regales Dick with a glimpse of your chest, spilling over the marble and covered in little bruises. Experience means he can picture Kori pressing her glossy mouth to your skin, your brows knotting as she sucks, how you cradle her head in your arms like she's something precious. He imagines you held her there against you, trying to keep her entertained until Kori's patience ran out and she abandoned diner for a bite of you.

Dick admires the vision the two of you make, watching Kori bend over your body to press a kiss to your shoulder and then bite down over the same spot. The jostling must make the strap go deeper because you keen and kick your legs a little. Kori laughs, pets your hair, turns her face to Dick with a mischievous grin in her face. Dick's heart flutters a storm.

"Pretty, right?" She says proudly.

"Kori," you gasp, bending your arm back to grab at her. Kori grips your hand in hers, presses a kiss against it. "Ko—ah! Kori!"

Kori nuzzles against your neck. "More?"

Dick thinks it's quite the opposite—you look so spent—but then, like always, you go against his expectations. You nod, once, twice, in quick succession, altogether too desperately for someone who Dick is sure has to have come at least three times so far tonight. His mouth feels dry. Kori smiles again, and straightens up. She grips your hips, lithe fingers digging into the fat at your sides, and pulls out almost entirely. The strap is big, Starfire purple glossy with your slick. Kori smirks down at your lower back and slams back in. You cry out, head lolling down. Dick wants—wants to be there, to bite the flesh that spills over between them, wants to kiss Kori's knuckles, wants to join the both of you.

So he does. That's the easy thing about this. After all the hardship, he gets to join you.

He finishes unbuttoning his shirt but doesn't remove it. You like to take it off yourself, he remembers, though he doubts you'll have the strength. He walks over to Kori's side, heat simmering low in his belly. She perks up when she sees him approach, already leaning over you when he gets to her. Dick grins into the welcome kiss, taking Kori's face in his and licking into her mouth. Kori's response is immediate and enthusiastic, almost forceful—happy to see him. Happy to be with him. Dick's heart hammers in his chest. She makes him feel like a boy.

He tilts Kori's head back, fingers slotting under her jaw. Kori opens up with little resistance, going easy and pliant. Long gone is the taste of her lipstick, and instead all that remains is the familiar taste of Kori, a drink he would walk a desert for, and underneath, just a little bit of you. Dick chases the fading hint of your presence, the salt of your skin, the sweetness of your mouth, not to replace it with his own but to greet it. He is, perhaps, a little too forceful, but Kori moans when a hint of teeth makes its presence, and Dick likes the sound so much he feels his control slipping, trying desperately to be close, closer—

You whine beneath them. Kori hasn't exactly stopped, but the pace's all over the place and you clearly resent it. Dick breaks the kiss, forehead against Kori's, and they both chuckle. Glancing down, he sees you try to fuck yourself back onto the strap.

"That's hot," he says, voice thick.

Kori laughs, slaps him on the shoulder. "You're being a distraction."

"Sorry," he says, charming smile dancing in his face. "Let me watch?"

This close, the view is certainly engaging. Kori puts in a bit of flair for his benefit, drawing back a little so he can see the way her strap splits you apart. Dick holds up her skirt, peers down as she rocks into you in shallow, quick bursts. You're obscenely wet, folds glistening and fluttering around her. You hang your head down, a litany of Kori, Kori spilling out your mouth. The sticky film of your release webs over the strap as she pulls out and Dick knows Kori hasn't pulled out entirely since she first slid into you. If she didn't start fucking you here, then she must've carried you over here, the one place in the whole apartment where she could bend you over and have you teetering on your tiptoes. The strain on your legs means he'll have to massage them later and he feels himself throb with the thought of his hands on you.

Watching is a treat. Listening is almost better. You're never loud, at the beginning. All this began in shadowed corners and far off alcoves, hiding first from each other and then from everyone else. You're accustomed to reeling it in, not showing a reaction—the first few months of your relationship consisted of heated glances, passing brushes, and wandering hands under tables. Perhaps Dick and Kori did you a disservice, pulling you against shelves and pressing a hand over your mouth, enjoying far too much the way your eyes rolled back when your moans melted against their skin.

But if they work you enough, you stop caring. You let out your voice like you're doing now, a litany of delirious thought broken by choked moaning. He likes this about you, the way you always want to respond, to show that you're present. You fight so hard to be here with them. Kori shuffles on her feet, thinks better of it, and reaches down to grab one of your calves and fold your leg over the counter. You're halfway to falling, knuckles tight gripping onto the edge, and this new angle opens you up marvelously. Dick is hard as a rock and has to palm himself over his slacks not to lose it. He wants to taste. He wants to be inside you. He can barely form a thought.

You sob. It's real tears now. He feels lightheaded.

Kori presses deep and then goes almost all the way out, teasing. The flesh of your ass bounces when she thrusts back in, chasing you off the counter. Dick watches it jiggle, throbs in his pants. He reaches out, big hand splayed over a cheek, careful that his watch doesn't nick at your skin. Hm. Spreads you open a little more. His thumb rubs a little at your entrance, but Kori growls at him for butting in, and Dick moves his finger upward, to the little pucker there. You don't do this often, preferring to take them by turns, but he thinks…

He circles the rim, and then presses in. Just a little.

"Ah—!" You gasp, head thrown back. "Wait—ah!"

Mm. Dick thinks, throat thick with hunger. Maybe later.

"You said you were only going to watch," Kori chides. Might as well have told him to wait his turn.

Dick rolls his eyes, but acquiesces. Removes his thumb from your ass, not without a little squeeze, kisses Kori in the cheek and rounds the corner to the other side of the island.

You're holding on for dear life. Someone had the sense to take the spoon jar out of the way, but with the kitchen island empty, you have very little in which to find purchase. Dick approaches you slowly, carefully, so as not to spook you. He knows you're probably not all there right now. He settles in front of you, a move he imagines only seems to you as a shadow falling over you. You lift your head up, blinking out tears. This close he can see how wrecked you are. He moves into your space, cradling your face in his hands.

"Dick?" You croak. Your eyelashes stick together. Your cheeks are hot under his hands.

"Hello, sweetheart," he says.

"You're home," you say, moving as if to reach for him, but afraid to fall.

"I am," he hums. A wave of overwhelming affection passes over him. "Do you want a kiss?"

You nod obediently. Dick moves to kiss you, sweet and languid. You open up to him just as easily as Kori did, and Dick wonders at his luck, but he doesn't push you. He pulls back, strokes his thumbs over your cheeks. You close your eyes, and he presses a kiss to your eyelids, to your forehead, tilts your face and another to your cheek. You take his sweetness with a little gasp, and then return to search for his mouth.

The kiss lasts only a little, as you slip and have to grab onto his shoulders not to crash against the marble. Dick settles you against his chest, angles you so Kori can ram into you the way she likes it. Kori's really into it now, eyes closed, brows knotted. You grasp onto the front of his shirt, hide your face in the juncture of his neck. My sweet angel, he thinks, and kisses the top of your hair.

"You like it when Kori fucks you?" He asks, a whisper at your ear. Kori can probably hear, but he keeps his voice low anyway. You whine into his neck. Dick smooths a hand over the back of your hair. "You like it?"

"I— nhg—do," you struggle.

"It's good?" He strokes your temple. "Kori's cock is good, huh?"

You nod. "S'good." Your brow furrows, but there's a worrisome quality to it.

"Yeah?" Dick prompts.

"You—fuck, nh—you wanna…?" You trail off, but it's clear you're offering him to go next with Kori. Dick smiles, almost giggles. It's so like you to offer.

"I wanna see you cum," he says. The way you shiver against him tells him not only how you feel about that, but also that you're close. He rests his hand at your nape, holds you in place. "Want you in my arms, wanna feel you spasm against me. You look so good like this, do you know? I bet you feel amazing. Can't wait to be inside you."

"Want you too," you pant, legs spreading open just a little more. Like you'd take him too if he wanted to slip it in. Dick manages not to hump the island, but it's a very near thing. He has to kiss you, though. It's a sloppy kiss, a wet slide of mouths that turns into Dick swallowing the pretty sounds you make.

"You're gonna cum for me, right?" He says, petting your hair. He feels you tense in his arms, sees Kori piston into you in response. "You're gonna cum for me so I can taste it?"

"Dick, Dick—," you gasp, digging your nails into his shoulders. "I'm gonna—Kori, I'm—"

You come with a little whimper, a garbled mix of both their names in your mouth. Kori fucks you through it, while Dick smooths a hand down your back and presses kisses against your forehead. Enviable teamwork. Slowly, he feels your breath even out, and you pull yourself up and off him just a little. Coming back to yourself. Dick still hovers. You almost slump back against him when Kori finally, finally slips out of you.

"Good?" He says, stroking your shoulder. You nod. He smirks as he helps you cross your legs over to this side of the island. "Started early today, huh?"

"You were late," you say peevishly, taking care not to fall. "Are you gonna take a bath now?"

"What a polite way to say I smell."

"You do," Kori says, bouncing over to your side. You open your arms automatically, and she nuzzles against you like a happy kitten.

She hasn't taken the harness off, so it's a little funny. The hem of her skirt is wet with your release, which is a little less funny. In fact, seeing the two of you kiss, so sweet and pretty, the less funny it all feels. He's still so fucking hard in his pants he's a little surprised there isn't a wet spot through his boxers. He sticks to your other side, trades a few kisses with you and Kori and you again.

When his hand sneaks towards your clit, you part with Kori and smack his hand in irritation. "Let me catch my breath, won't you?"

"You said you'd let me taste you," he complains.

"You can have a taste," Kori says, pointing down at the strap hanging from her harness, still covered in your cum. The three of you share a look.

You cross your legs expectantly. Dick swallows.

"Guess the bath will take a little longer."

He sinks to his knees.

[bunniesanddeer]

I really really LOVE the Touch chapters with Alastor. You write it so well! Although you have a fic on touch now already I was wondering if I could request something similar?

Persoanlly I think I'd be a really affectionate and touchy person but I simply cannot initiate touch without knowing where to touch, how long, how much pressure and so on. And asking people before hand makes them really confused and tbh I hate having to explain myself and sound needy about it. Idk if it's just me having some weird thing going on.

Anyways, would you consider writing Al with a reader that just got to the hotel and is very straight forward with people about their fear of initiating physical contact during times where reader knows someone would appreciate a hug or pat or any kind of physical contact but reader can't give it them before clearing just how hey want the touch to be.

So Alastor notices that reader acts very affectionate in moments with people who initiate touch (cuddles with Angel on the couch, does Charlie's hair). But at the same time he notices that they shy away and sometimes flinch away when reader touches someone by accident (handing someone something and their hands brush, etc) and apologizes as if they had just burned them.

He goes to figure out why that is and kind of challenges reader to touch him (after him consenting of course) whenever because the struggle and fear amuses him plenty but somewhere deep down he wants them to grow comfortable and confident since that is how their personality is over all and it suits them way better than the cowardly insecure overthinking reader who is too scared to ask for a hug on an especially bad day, even when it could literally save their afterlife.

Just fluff and more physical affection and soft Alastor

You don't have to though! We have already been blessed with some amazing works by you

Would appreciate it to the moon and back if you would take this request (or add another part to your Touch chapters because I am a girl OBSSESSED and starved, hungry for more lol)

Thank you sooooo much for reading and I hope you have a lovely weekend!!!!! <3

Hi! I hope this is something like what you wanted? I had fun writing this. Sorry it took me a little while, haha.

Challenge

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Tags: Fluff, touch sensitive reader/Alastor, slightest tinge of angst

Word Count: 2,839

When you had come to the hotel, Alastor was sure you weren’t going to last long. You avoided eye-contact with others, and your hands constantly fidgeted. You shifted on your feet, and rocked back on your heels constantly. Even when standing in one place, you couldn’t seem to be still. You seemed shifty, and he was sure you would pull something, and he would have to remove you. Alas, he was wrong. You stuck around, even if your weird tendencies only got weirder.

In the several weeks you had been residing in the hotel, not once had you initiated contact with anyone, not that he had seen. Alastor was sure you didn’t like it, until he saw Angel pick you up like a stuffed animal, and make you cuddle with him while watching the television. You had melted into the embrace, nuzzling against the soft fur of Angel’s upper shoulders. So Alastor needed to keep watching, and come up with a new explanation for your behavior.

At some point, Charlie had begged to ‘play’ with your long hair, so the two of you ended up dragging everyone into the sitting room for an impromptu ‘spa’ day. Charlie sat behind you, you were nearly in her lap, braiding one section of hair, and Vaggie was painting your claws. Angel was brushing out Husker’s fur. Niffty and Sir Pentious were talking and looking at the make up laid out across the coffee table. Alastor merely watched, amused by the group's antics every once in a while. 

He watched the way your eyes fluttered when you were embraced by the girls, and the way you seemed so at ease. Nothing seemed particularly amiss. He wondered if you hadn’t been comfortable yet, and had nearly settled with that. That was, until Angel came home, nearly in tears, one day.

“Fuck!” Angel yelled, tossing his phone harshly. It was rare for Angel Dust to have such an outward burst of anger. He always put on a show of being satisfied with his work, even when he clearly wasn’t. When Angel had settled on one of the couches, his face collapsed into his hands. “I’m so fucking tired of Val…”

Angel mumbled to himself as you entered the lobby. You glanced at Angel, and then his shattered phone. You frowned, your soft features looking nearly angry, and then picked up his phone, and made your way to him. Alastor watched from the bar, interested to see how this interaction went.

“Hey, Angie. I uh, I got your phone,” you said quietly. You sat off to the side of the couch, looking out of place, and uncomfortable. 

Angel mumbled something back, and your frown grew more severe. “I uh,” your voice trailed off, and your eyes started darting around. “Do you - do you want, like, a hug? I don’t really know what you need right now, I’m sorry.”

Alastor watches as Angel turns his head and whispers something to you. He doesn’t seem confused, not like Alastor is. He is clearly missing something. His eyes narrow, and he watches as you crawl up on the couch and awkwardly settle yourself against Angel’s side. 

How bizarre! How could you possibly not know what he needed? You were a very empathetic person, always looking out for others, and you liked being held, clearly, so how would you lack this kind of knowledge.

Alastor decides to confront you about it, at a later time. He needed to know everything about this. Perhaps it would be useful!

The next day, Alastor decides to try and get you to touch him, and then go from there. (It had been a little while since he had decided to ‘wing’ something like this. How exciting! You weren’t a bore at all!) His best bet would be to invite you to assist him for the day, so he invites you to when you’re heading down the stairs that morning.

“Ah! Just the woman I was looking for! How are you this morning, dearest?” He settles his hand on the banister, near where yours is resting, and waits.

“Oh! Good morning Alastor. I’m doing okay. What is it you needed me for?” Your smile is gentle and your demeanor open, even if you can’t keep eye-contact. 

“I was wondering if you would like to assist me today? We haven’t had much ‘bonding’ time as you and the others! I was hoping to rectify that,” he responds. He keeps his normal flair and watches you giggle at him.

“Of course, Al. It’s not like I had much going on today.” You pull back from the banister and twist to look at him better. “What do you have in mind?”

Alastor merely nods, and starts leading you down to the kitchen. “I was thinking you could assist me with breakfast, and then we can do some minor paperwork! We’ll decide what to do after that.”

You happily agree, and trail after him, leaving just enough space so you can’t ump into him. 

“We are going to make french-toast, fried green tomatoes, and ham. Should be simple enough, dear!” He snaps, and the two of you are wearing aprons. You let out a surprised laugh, and smile up at him.

“I will never get over how cool that is!” 

He waves you off, and starts pulling things out of the cabinets. He hands each one to you, waiting for you to make contact. 

Then it happens.

You jerk your hand back so fast that the whisk he’d been handing to you falls to the floor with a clatter. Your whole body seems to shrink in on yourself, and your expression collapses.

“Oh. Oh, no. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” You start rambling apologies, and it makes Alastor’s head cock to the side.

“Why are you sorry, dear?” His voice lilts with just the slightest amount of amusement, but you don’t seem to catch on to it. 

“I- I touched you! I’m sorry! I don’t know how to do it appropriately, and I’m sorry! You have more boundaries than the others and I just-” Your rambling starts to annoy him, just the slightest bit, and his eyes narrow.

“I would tell you, if I had a problem with it,” he starts. “You don’t normally have a problem. Why is it a problem now?”

You frown, harshly. It is the first time he has seen such a negative emotion on your face. (Something in him is unsettled at the sight. He ignores it, as he often does). “What do you mean? That’s not the same!”

Alastor is now genuinely confused. It is absolutely the same! How could it not be?

You seem to catch onto his confusion, and a small growl rips from your throat in frustration. “I’m okay with people touching me first, because that’s initiating contact, and they lead the whole time. It’s easier to understand what people want, and where it is okay to touch, based on how they feel, and how they are touching me. But, but when I do it first, it’s hard to know what’s okay! I don’t have someone to mimic, and it’s- it’s hard!” Your face contorts further, and you’re palpably angry. 

“All these social rules, and stuff can be so hard sometimes! It’s easier to just not do it! How can I hurt anyone if I don’t give myself the opportunity, you know?” You sigh, and drop your upper body on the kitchen island’s counter. “It sucks,” you say, your voice muffled by the counter.

Alastor feels a modicum of sympathy. You nearly have the exact opposite problem to him. You want to touch other, craving that closeness, but don’t know how to go about it. He would rather go without it, but knows exactly how to use touch on others, especially to get what he wants.

His mind whirls with thoughts of how pathetic you seem like this. You are normally so confident! Why let this silly worry prevent you from being the best you can be? His thoughts settle on a plan before he can really acknowledge it. 

“Alright then, dearest!” Alastor smacks the counter, drawing your attention. “I have an idea. A challenge, if you will. To help you get over this silly fear of yours, I challenge you to this; you must touch me every day, at least once. Each touch must be a different kind than the last, and it can’t be for the same reason.” Alastor tilts his head at you, waiting for you to take the bait.  “You are allowed to do it without asking, and it can be as big or small as you are comfortable with, but you need to do it. If you can do this, to the point where you are comfortable hugging the others without worrying about “hurting” them, then you win.”

Your head pops up from the counter, and you narrow your eyes at him. “What do I win?”

Alastor feels his grin widen. Yes, you would be fun to play with. “A small favor. Something simple. And confidence. It’s a shame that you are being held back by something so simple!”

You huff, but nod your head. “Fine. I touch you, once a day, unsolicited, and it’s gotta be different each time, or something like that. I win when I can hug everyone else without being touched first.”

“There’s my girl,” he says, watching your whole body stiffen in response. He laughs, and picks up the whisk from the floor. “Let’s continue with breakfast, yes?”

The first time you touch him is during a “movie night” that Charlie sets up the next day. She demanded Alastor participate, despite his well known hatred of television, and everything to do with that technology. You had silently approached him as the group set up pillows and blankets on the floor around the TV, and against the couches. The two of you watched idly, before you spoke up.

“Can I sit with you,” you asked softly. 

“Of course, dear! Good company might make this terrible idea more… palatable,” Alastor grumbled. You smile at him, and laugh a little. 

“Oh, the horror. Sitting with your friends, and relaxing,” you respond, tilting your head at him. His static surges for a moment, but he says nothing in response. You laugh again, although he’s not quite sure why.

When the group finally gets settled in for the movie, and the lights are turned off, he watches you shift about in your seat. Your eyes dart around the room, and your hands fidget. It takes a few minutes, the intro to the movie already going, for you to finally look at him. You scoot closer to him, more than halfway across the couch. You wait another moment, and Alastor’s eyes don’t move from your form. He just watches you fidget with amusement. Finally, you speak up, barely a whisper.

“Hey, can- can I lean on you?” You are so hesitant, and it makes his eyebrows furrow, just the slightest. 

“Of course, dear,” he whispers back, his static barely a murmur. Your body slackens, all the tension drawn out. 

“Oh, good,” you mumble, pressing your small form against his side. It takes a few moments, but then you are completely calm against him, head pressed into his arm, your hands against his waist, and knees curled up under you and tucked against his thigh. You mumble something about him being warm, and all Alastor can do is agree. 

You are so very warm, and it has him almost anxious. He isn’t sure what about, as the room is calm, and the silly animated picture-show is easily ignored. You are so very warm, and he can feel each breath your body breathes in. He can nearly hear the soft pound of your heartbeat, even over the picture-show. His nose twitches at your scent. He will have to take a far-too hot bath later to remove it. It’s fine, though. It’s all part of the game. 

Alastor ignores that you’ve fallen asleep on him. It’s for the best.

The next day, you offer him a “fist-bump”, which he doesn’t understand. You laugh, and explain the gesture, and show him how it looks.

“You do it when you did something cool, or when you’re having fun with your friends.” You smile at him and constantly gesture with your hands while you talk. It keeps his attention quite easily. “Ah, here, let’s see if you understand. What was the last cool thing you did? It can be whatever.”

Alastor thinks over the last few days exploits, and shrugs. “I made a sinner cry by merely looking at him, this morning.” 

You go stock still before bursting out laughing. “Really? Oh my gosh. Seriously, fist-bump,” and you offer your knuckles. Alastor hesitantly returns the gesture, knocking your hands together. However clumsily it was done, it makes your smile wider. “Nice! Yeah, that’s exactly how you do it!”

If he tries the gesture on the others later on, he never tells you. Charlie got a kick out if, though. He refuses to tell her who told him about it. 

One day, you’re assisting Niffty cleaning, but can’t reach a spot way too high for either of you to get. Neither of you can find a ladder, and Alastor is watching with a far too delighted smile. When you spot him, you smile mischievously.

“Alastoorrrrr,” You call, your eyes narrowing playfully. “Come here. Please.”

He strides over, not letting his hesitance show. “What can I do for you, my dear?”

“Can I get up on your shoulders? I need to be able to reach that spot with the duster.” You point up at where you need to dust. He looks over at it, and realizes you are definitely not getting  up there without help.

Alastor cocks his head at you, thinking over the logistics, and then nods. He kneels down, and feels you pull yourself onto his back, propping each leg over his shoulders. When you are still, hands gently around his neck, he stands up straight. He feels you wobble and then balance with a laugh. Your hands let go of him. He feels each breath and laugh and words from you gently vibrate his head with how close the two of you are. 

“I’m so tall! Hahah! This is great! I wish I was always this tall, haha!” You keep laughing, and readjust your duster, pointing at your destination. “Onwards, my steed!”

Alastor rolls his eyes at your antics, but obliges, standing closer to where you need to be. Niffty is squealing, and it’s making you laugh harder. Alastor joins in at some point, and then the three of you are running around the first floor of the hotel, terrorizing the others with your hijinks.

Alastor thinks, privately, that you make him laugh over the little things, something that he hasn’t done in a while. He isn’t sure how to feel about it.

It’s several weeks after the challenge had been initiated, that he finds you hiding in a side-closet. Alastor isn’t sure how he knew you would be there, but the discovery throws him. You’re crying. Nearly bawling your eyes out, and you look uncomfortable with the way your small body is curled into a tight ball, surrounded by cleaning supplies. 

“Oh, hey, Al,” you say, your voice rough. “How’d you find me?”

“Just needed to follow the sound of despair, apparently, my dear,” he responds without a thought. He nearly winces when his words process, and he shakes his head. “I’m not sure, dear. Whatever are you doing in there?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Something upset me, but I can’t remember what.” Your voice trails off, and you look at where you have situated yourself. You huff, and pull yourself out with a grunt.

You dust off your knees, and the back of your pants, frowning. “Sorry you had to see that, haha.” You try to muster a smile, but Alastor sees right through it. “Right.”

Alastor simply watches as you shut the closet door, and try and calm yourself down. 

“Gosh, I feel dumb.” You frown at the ground, and sigh. “Alright. Can I have a hug?”

Alastor’s eyebrows raise. Oh. You were finally ready to hug him. How interesting. 

“Of course, dear.” He opens his arms, not even bothering to check for others seeing the interaction. You rub your face, and then step between his arms. You wrap yourself around him, loose at first, and then you embrace him hard. His arms fall around you, and he pulls you in close. His head settles on top of yours. 

You are still so warm, and you smell wonderful; something comforting, something familiar. Your heart thrums against your ribs, and he can feel it pounding. His ears twitch at every soft sound. 

This is nice. Although there is still time, part of him mourns the day you are ready to win his challenge. He supposes he can enjoy each little bit of connection the two of you have, until then. 

Taglist: @numetalnerd2007 @girl-nahh-two Remember, you can be added to my taglist by replying to the tagged post on my page!

[fuck-customers]

🌱

Had the worse work day at this job. I couldn't even force myself to stay the last half an hour before close because I had been forcing myself to stay on the up and up since before lunch (12pm for me). I even took breaks away from the commotion to try to calm myself down but that only helped for a few minutes before somethin else happened that brought me right back to the 'I'm literally so close to loosing my shit on the next person who mildly annoys me that my stomach hurts'.

It's been a months long dog pile but Friday and Saturday really just lit the metaphorical shit on fire with gas. I feel like I've been gettin the shit end of the stick for months now, prob since before November-any problem or error comes back to me either to fix it or it's somehow 'my fault' in the first place. Friday was the whole label debacle, my money manger told my other 2 coworkers who completely failed to tell me that info, which the lady making the labels gets miffed with me but I atleast knew that wasn't aimed *at* me cause we were both really frustrated with the label thing. But then MM calls the shop cell (we don't have walkie talkies), I answer it cause I'm usually at the register and she tells me that she told my other 2 coworkers who were supposed to tell me the info, so now she's frustrated, I'm mad, the lady labels is miffed, no one's happy, my other 2 coworkers are ignorant. When MM was talking to me it sounded like she was chewing me out, which I didn't take well cause it wasn't my fault that NEITHER FUCKIN COWORKER told me the info, so now I'm mad at my coworkers for not telling me, which in turn makes the label lady miffed, ect...

Later I told the LL that MM chewed me out for my coworkers not telling me I had to send her, LL, a list of names and quantity, not just a set number of generic lables to print which what I was originally told. Which I guess LL told MM, cause later MM texts me that she wasn't trying to be mean to me and that she didn't want me to think she was coming down on me. Even thou it really felt like that in the moment.

Then today, Saturday, a guy asks for help for trees and shrubs and stuff. I don't know the details about that kinda stuff, like quantity, care, what we carry esp for trees, so I try to call 2 guys in the garden to come up and help him out. Which my other manager, my supervisor, has said to do, call one of the guys up to the front to help a customer. Neither answer their phone, so I tell him no one's answering so your best bet is to find a guy already out there. Apparently that wasn't the right thing to do. He does go back there thou, maybe like 10mins later he briskly walks back leaving, we ask if he found anyone, he says somethin like 'no one who was interested to help', and he's already gone, nothing I could do to make him turn back. I ask the owner to tell the one guy who didn't answer to get his phone cause he has a history of not gettin his phone and letting it die. I also tell her about the guy who left, to which she says 'why didn't I walk him back there to find someone'. Like. I'm not a sales associate. Why should I have to walk 5 acres of land to find 1 out of 2 guys to do their damn job. And if I don't find one then what? I can only bs my way for so long. No I'm not a complete idiot when it comes to plants but idk what trees we have and I can't drive him next door on the golf cart to show him either. Besides the gact that I probably dont have permission to do that, idk how to drive a golf cart. From then on out it's like anythin that can go wrong with somethin or just somethin annoying did go wrong. Customers complaining, managers complaining, coworkers avoiding doing work. The thing that finally broke me was when the LL called and said that the same guy who's phone is always conveniently dead (my words not hers) had tagged off her plants for her client and he just tagged them off for my client. Her client hadn't payed for them yet thou and she said he can explain to him that he waited too long and lost the sale, but like, it still fucked me over. I told the phone dead guy who immediately gets mad at me saying why I told her. I didn't tell her shit! I told her 160 tibuchina were tagged off for an install, which is standard protocal to text in the delivery group chat of what is going to be delivered+installed. He says he saw the tag and tagged his, not hers, but he continues to go on and on and at one point goes 'do you think I'm blind?' I KNOW YOU ARE. He is literally colour blind!! For all I know he could have easily missed the green+blue striped tag in the leaves! I didn't snap at him thou and had to walk away, but I still couldn't calm down which led to the whole crying sobbing and leaving early.

I talked to the owner a bit before leaving cause I texted her I was leaving, which I maybe shouldn't have done, I should have just not told anyone and they can figure it out when they see me punched out early and not being around the last half an hour to close, but I figured I would be courteous and give her a heads up if no one else. I didn't bother letting my coworkers know that I was leaving. Fuck them. She ended up seeing me as I was walking to the front end to get my work bag from the register area, we talked a bit but it doesn't feel like anythin really came from it. She said she would talk to the other girls too but my supervisor has had TWO meetings about the same shit, and they clearly don't care. They're gonna do whatever they want cause I'm the one who carries the front end while they go off in lala land not having to do the little they do up front.

I don't even want to go into work tomorrow even thou I said I would. I'm not looking forward to it. I'm not looking forward to interacting with my coworkers who can't help, avoid doing work and can't tell me shit, or the MM who I'm sure the supervisor has told that I was crying in her office, or the phone dead guy who kept getting mad at me all Saturday cause I threw him under the bus finally about not having his damn phone charged for work even thou it's been a months long problem with him. Thou he won't be at work Sunday so atleast there's that. I still have to make sure he didn't tag LL plants thou.

TL;DR Worse work day of this job ever, I feel like shit, I cried alot, I get in trouble for shit that isn't my fault and the straw finally broke the camels back Saturday. I don't want to go into work Sunday and if I didn't have bills I wouldn't. Wish me luck I guess.

Posted by admin Rodney

[nanaminokanojo]

ACCIDENTALLY IN LOVE | part 61

-meet cute? a cheesy musical number? forget it! love makes itself known to you through a minor car accident, a broken arm, and a treacherously charming temporary chauffeur

CHARACTERS: sukuna x you/reader | jjk characters

GENRE: full-length smau + prose | bad boy x good girl | college au | a lot of firsts | aged-up characters | strangers to lovers | smut | fluff | angst | ooc depictions - soft sukuna ftw

TW/CW: strong/mature language | adult content so mdni on some parts | mentions of alcohol and/or smoking | mentions of injury, promiscuity and bullying | pet names because they're cute with 2D men | toxic behavior | will add more if something arises

MASTERLIST | CHAPTER INDEX

<<prev part 61 next>>

A/N: Narrations after the 7th panel. Also, I've updated Parts 56 and 60. The video is working on the former and I forgot to add the narrations on the latter prior to the video. Idk what I was thinking with this last update. Sorry for that and for this very brief update. Smutty things to come in the next chapters!

You were left to think of what Uraume told you, said in such an unsentimental manner that one would have thought that they were just talking about something trivial. But it got you thinking of so many things all at the same time, perplexed about the meaning behind those simple words, thrown out in the wind, free for interpretation.

However, you were no longer able to ask as the others returned, Choso immediately slinging an arm over your shoulder and asking after you. “You look flushed. Are you okay, Y/N?”

“Y-yes, thank you.” Your eyes immediately flicked to Sukuna who was standing beside Uraume, and you felt your face heating up all the more when he smiled at you. “It’s just really hot.”

“You sure?" he asked, snickering. You knew what he was getting at, but you didn't say anything.

“Hi, princess,” Naoya greeted, blocking your view of Sukuna.

You thought he was nice although he could be rather full of himself. It wasn’t in an annoying way, just in a funny, disarming way. Noisy, too. “Hi.”

“Call me Naoya.”

You nodded but you did not say it, suddenly remembering your confliction about what Uraume told you. You did notice it, too, the way everyone called Sukuna by his last name. Everyone just referred to him as “Ryomen,” and you pondered on whether it meant anything that you’re the only one who called him by his birth name.

The thoughts plagued you even as you sat in the car, your eyes remaining trained on him in the tense silence that seemed to have followed your last words when he asked you if you were ready to go home. You still couldn’t shake the same feeling you had earlier when you were watching him play, your senses seemingly hyper-aware of every single detail of him. Your heart felt full as the afternoon sun shone through the windows, touching his being that you thought, if you blinked, he’d disappear like a mirage.

It was the case up to the moment he parked on the spot next to where your own car had been sitting in the garage since the accident. It was gathering dust, but you have grown accustomed to the passenger side of Sukuna's car, the apple-cinammon air freshener he used and the feeling of having someone to talk to and laugh with while going places.

You didn't like the idea of driving on your own anymore, always alone inside your car.

TAG LIST: @catobsessedlady @kyo-kyo1 @lavender-hvze @guacam011y @eyered @hellomeow12 @light-yagami-l @domainofmarie @noble-17 @weebbuscuit @lu-c1na @vinnieswife @the-haitani-baton @iaminyourfloors @needtoloveoutloud @r-ryuko09 @somestardeww @swirlingcurses @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @bronze-metal @iluv-ace @kidd3ath @ichorstainedskin @ti-mame @hellyyy06 @shuujin @lysaray @lilc77 @toffeebrat

Guys, I can't tag you: @junehasnotbeenfound @its-princessmara @mythoscalliope @sukunasbudussy @pheonix-eclipses @multifandomloner

© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI’S “JUJUTSU KAISEN”. [20240625]

PHOTOS/IMAGES/GIF/FANART/ANY MEDIA CREDITS GO TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

[wyllzel]

get to know your tumblr mutuals tag!

i was tagged by @nfly5, thank you laura!! :))

1. what's the origin of your username?

i think wyll ravengard of bg3 fame and lae'zel also of bg3 fame should kiss and fall in love and ride dragons into the sunset (or, rather, the astral plane) together :)

2. otps + shipname

wyllzel 🥰 and vivwall (vivienne x blackwall dai) at the moment for sure!

i'm trying to think of more, but honestly i'm p easygoing when it comes to ships haha i'll take a peek at almost anything that seems compelling 🫣

3. song stuck in my head

"purple lace bra" by tate mcrae for uhhh no reason 🤫 and "feel it" by d4vd for also no reason LOL (🎶 you told me once that i was crazy i said babygirl i knooooowww but i can't let you gooo (away!) 🎶)

4. weirdest trait/habit

i have a growing aversion to cold drinks lol it's starting to feel odd drinking something that isn't hot... that's not that weird though, i think i'm just becoming a grandma LOL

5. hobbies

photoshop!! i like making gifs and edits and such :) i've also been writing a lot more recently which is crazy, i haven't felt this inspired or productive in forever :'D thank you DA lol 🩷

i am also v much a webtoon enjoyer (my all-time fave is "trash belongs in the trash can!" but i'm currently v invested in "nevermore," "i'm the queen in this life," "sisters at war," and "momfluencer"!), but i'll read manga (tatsuki fujimoto my GOAT) and comics (invincible also my GOAT)

6. if you work, what's your profession?

i write internal software documentation which means it's architectural, high-level design stuff... not so much code-specific, but the reasoning behind why software components are organized the way they are. it's not very fun, mostly mind-melting... i work closely w engineers and it's kind of a toss-up whether they'll be nice/patient or think i'm stupid lol

but my brain now contains so many company secrets :^) if you ever have any questions about data storage/virtualization i can possibly help lol

7. if you could have any job you wish, what would you have?

funny story—i applied for grad school, and i've been accepted to an english m.a. program that starts this fall!!! 🥹 we'll see where i go w that, but i'll likely enter education!

8. something you're good at?

uhh i suppose BG3 LOL i beat honor mode twice! 🎉 (i'm still trying to figure out how DA works 🤔 DA2 hard mode is chill idk if i'd ever do nightmare tho 😬)

9. something you hate?

ok it's not rly a "hate" thing but it does irk me when i see fandom claims/arguments that don't cite specific quotes/screenshots/instances lol (the english major in me activates and i am consumed by the thought "🚨‼️ where do you see this in the text 👁️👁️🫵" LOL)

10. something you forget?

the grief 😂🖐️ it creeps up on me! almost cried in my cubicle multiple times this week. haha.

11. your love language?

receiving is probably words of affirmation? giving is probably gifts, i like making silly things for my bestie (eg. fenris keychain lol) and finding weird stickers for my brother 🤡

12. favorite movies/shows?

my letterboxd top 4 are:

everything everywhere all at once (2022) (saw it twice in theaters and sobbed thru both times)

nope (2022) (BRILLIANT movie, so smart)

challengers (2024) (so fascinating!)

lust, caution (2007) (i need to rewatch this one expeditiously)

as for shows, i love succession (2018-23), invincible (2021-), and the twilight zone (1959-64)!

13. what were you like as a child?

apparently very friendly, outgoing, and extroverted! i would just run up to my fellow kids and yap at them?! i do nooot do that anymore lol

14. favorite subject in school?

english/literature!!

15. least favorite subject?

oh man, i was so bad at science, especially biology/chemistry... i could scrape by in physics bc i was decent at math, but it was still awful...

16. what's your best/worst character trait?

worst...??? according to my last annual review, i need to be more confident in the workplace LOL 💀 + sometimes i let my anxiety get the better of me... i think that's just a lifelong struggle thing though, but i know i can improve to be a better friend and such 💪

best... multiple reviews from mom-aged women say that i am a "nice" and "sweet" person so hopefully at least that means i can leave a good first impression haha

17. if you could change any detail of your life right now, what would it be?

i'm not a huge fan of what-if-ing personally, but i do wish i were on vacation 😆

18. if you could travel in time, who would you like to meet?

i'm currently very curious about my paternal grandparents... it's hard for me to conceptualize why they got married... and how my dad grew up... i guess i would want to witness some of that??

tagging: hello again haha!! @creaking-skull @andrewknightley @coolseabird @genderdotcom @bladeweave @grey-wardens @maironsbigboobs no pressure again :))

[antonluvr]

Can't Help Myself Falling Endlessly 2

synopsis: anton and y/n spark a secretive affair together word count: 4k status: 2/? (trying to update 2 times a week) genre: non idol au, fem reader, mutual pining, friends to lovers content warning: explicit sexual content, blow jobs, oral (fem), fingering, slight nipple play, man idk how to tag sorry

As the door clicked shut behind Anton, you leaned against it, trying to calm your racing heart. The memory of his kiss still lingered on your lips, and a smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. It felt surreal, but you couldn’t linger on it for long. Sohee would be back downstairs any minute. 

Sure enough, Sohee appeared at the top of the stairs, now dressed in his pajamas. “I was coming to help, but it looks like you and Anton did everything,” he said, glancing around. 

“You only went upstairs to avoid helping, so don’t even try to lie,” you scoffed, folding the blue blanket. 

“You two seemed to be having fun,” he remarked, completely unaware of the emotional storm you had just weathered.

“Yeah, it was a good time as always,” you replied, trying to sound casual. “How was work?”

“Same old, same old,” Sohee said, plopping down on the couch. “But at least I got paid for a full shift.”

You nodded, your mind drifting back to Anton. “I’m pretty tired, so I think I’m going to head to bed,” you said, stifling a yawn.

“Alright, goodnight,” Sohee called after you as you headed upstairs. 

Once in your room, you climbed into bed, your mind buzzing with thoughts of Anton. You couldn’t wait to talk to him again, to see where this new development would lead. As you lay there, your phone buzzed on the nightstand. You reached for it, hoping it was a message from Anton. Sure enough, his name lit up the screen.

____________________________________________________________________________

Texting

anton: I can’t stop thinking about tonight. Can we talk?

y/n: absolutely. im still wide awake.

anton: Same here. I still can’t believe we kissed. How are you feeling?

y/n: honestly, my heart is still racing. i havent been able to stop smiling lowkey…

anton: Me too. I’m going to say something, but don’t judge me haha

y/n: judgment free zone

anton: I have wanted to kiss you for a while now.

y/n: really? because me too, i’m glad i finally did 

y/n: might i just add, i like the way your lips felt on me …

anton: Oh, I’m glad you think so. Maybe we should do it again.

y/n: god i wish i could have some of you right now. i wish we didn’t get interrupted …

anton: Trust me, I wish the same thing.

y/n: maybe we can just have a little fun now … 

anton: Mmm, tell me what you have in mind. 

y/n: i really want to feel your hands on me and your lips exploring every inch of me

anton: I want that too. I swear I can feel you right now. 

y/n: i would love to feel you right now, i barely got the chance earlier

y/n: i need you now… what if you snuck over tonight? sohee is playing video games downstairs

anton: My one question. Are we both on the same page about keeping whatever this is a secret. Until we figure out what it is we want?

y/n: yes, i agree. but pls can you hurry over. i’ll run down and unlock the door.

____________________________________________________________________________

As Anton read Y/N’s last message, a surge of desire coursed through him. He glanced around his room, heart pounding with anticipation. The idea of sneaking over to your place ignited a thrilling excitement within him, but he knew they needed to be cautious. 

Quickly, Anton grabbed his keys and silently crept down the stairs, careful not to make a sound. The night air was cool against his skin as he stepped outside, leaving his car behind and opting to walk the short distance to your place. Every step felt charged, thoughts of your touch and their shared desires racing through his mind. 

Arriving at your doorstep, Anton took a moment to collect himself, his heart racing at the thought of your touch. The house was dimly lit, the silence broken by the faint hum of appliances and Sohee yelling at whatever game he was playing in the basement. Anton tiptoed through the hallway and up the stairs into your bedroom. 

After entering, Anton closes the door with deliberate care to dampen any noise from the latch. When he turns around, he finds you still in the oversized hoodie from earlier, now accompanied by a pair of light blue panties instead of the gray shorts. 

Anton had always been the shy type, reserved and cautious in his interactions with others. But with you, it was different. There was something about the way you looked at him, the way your eyes held a feeling of warmth that emboldened him like nothing else. Your presence alone seemed to dissolve the barrieres he usually kept around himself. 

Anton stood there for a moment, taking in the sight of you in the low-lit room. The soft glow accentuated every curve he could see. His gaze lingered on you, a mix of desire and admiration evident in his eyes. Without a word, Anton crossed the room, swiftly taking off his shirt in the process. He reached out, his touch gentle yet determined, conveying a depth of emotion that words could not capture. The warmth of his embrace enveloped you, sending a shiver down your spine as you pressed closer to him.

You could feel the heat radiating off his body, matching the heat building between you. His lips found yours, igniting a fire that had been smoldering since your last encounter. The kiss was hungry, passionate, filled with a longing that spoke volumes of unspoken desires and shared moments.

Anton’s lips trailed down your neck, his breath warm against your skin as he murmured, “You make me feel things I’ve never felt before.” His voice, usually soft-spoken, carried a husky edge filled with some desperation.

Anton's hands roamed over your back, tracing the lines of your spine beneath the fabric of the hoodie. His touch was electric, sending sparks of pleasure through you, making your breath catch in your throat. Every caress, every touch seemed to deepen the connection between you, erasing any distance that had existed.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as you whisper back, “Your hands feel so good, Anton.” your words hung in the air, as you traced patterns over his shoulders, feeling the tension in his muscles release under your touch. 

Anton’s hand caressed her cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your lips. “I have wanted to kiss you like this for so long,” he admitted, his voice thick with longing. 

You smiled softly, eyes locking with his, “I’ve wanted this too,” you confessed, your voice above a whisper. You leaned in, capturing his lips in another kiss, deeper and sloppier than before. Anton carries his touch under your hoodie and takes your breasts in hands, now carefully playing with your nipples, eliciting a soft gasp from your lips. You allow him better access to your body by taking off the hoodie, now exposed to the chill in the air. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he tells you, voiced with awe. He leaned in, this time pressing his kisses right on your chest. He takes in one of your nipples, swirling his tongue around. You arch into his touch, loving the way his gentle motion takes you over. His fingers dance along your sides, teasing the sensitive spots that make you gasp and moan in delight. 

With a sudden surge of boldness, you gently push Anton back onto the bed. He looks at you, eyes wide with surprise and lust. You smile, teasing a glint in your eyes. Your fingers trace the outline of his jaw, moving down his neck to his chest. You place soft, lingering kisses along the path where your fingers had been, feeling him tense and relax at your touch. You savor the way he reacts, the way his breath hitches and his body responds. 

You continue your journey downward, your kisses trailing from his chest to his abdomen. You can feel the heat of his skin, the way goosebumps appear as you leave wet kisses here and there. When you reach the waistband of his pants, you pause, looking up at him with a mischievous smile. With just that look, Anton’s eyes darken with desire, lifting his hips to slide his pants down and kick them away. 

As you take in the sight of him, your breath catches in your throat. You had always found Anton attractive, but seeing him like this–completely exposed, eyes filled with hunger, muscles taut with anticipation–leaves you momentarily stunned. The way his chest rises and falls rapidly, the glisten of sweat forming in his skin, the intensity in his gaze… it’s almost too much to take in. The reality of having such a powerful effect on him hits you with a force that takes your breath away. “Wow” is all you can manage to say at that moment. 

Your eyes travel down, and when they reach his member, you’re taken aback by its size. Not truly getting to notice from your earlier encounter. You blink in surprise, a flush creeping up your cheeks. It’s larger than you expected, and for a moment, you’re unsure of how to proceed. The sheer size of him is intimidating, yet only fuels your desire to pleasure him even more. 

As you move closer to his most sensitive areas, you take your time, savoring the taste and feel of him. You start by trailing gentle, wet kisses along the length of his shaft, feeling him throb under your lips. He lets out a low groan, the sound sending a thrill through you. You swirl your tongue around the tip, tasting the salty essence of his arousal, and his reaction is immediate–a sharp intake of breath, his hips twitching involuntarily. 

You wrap your hand around the base, feeling the thickness and heat of him. Slowly, you take him into your mouth, inch by inch, adjusting to his size. The sensation of him filling you, stretching you, is intense. You hollow your cheeks and create a tight seal with your lips, moving down further, feeling him slide deeper into your throat. His hands find their way to your hair, fingers tangling in the strands, a gentle pressure guiding you but allowing you to maintain control.

You set a steady rhythm, your mouth moving up and down his length, your tongue tracing patterns along the underside. You vary the pressure and speed, taking him deep into your throat one moment and teasing his tip with light flicks of your tongue the next. His moans grow louder, his breaths more ragged, as you drive him closer to the edge. 

You glance up at him, locking eyes as you continue your attack. The look of pure pleasure on his face, the way his muscles tense and hips lift to meet your movements. You increase the intensity, taking him deeper, your hand working in tandem with your mouth.

His moans become more urgent, his grip on your hair tightening. When you sense he’s closer you pull back slightly, focusing on the head, your tongue swirling and lips sucking with increased fervor. His whole body shudders, a deep, guttural groan escaping his lips. 

You pause for a moment, your hand still working him slowly, looking up at him with a playful yet serious expression. “Anton,” you whisper, your voice barely audible but filled with authority. “You need to be quiet.”

His eyes widen slightly, and he nods, understanding the gravity of the situation. You continue, this time more slowly, more sensually, your mouth working in perfect harmony with your hand. You maintain eye contact, watching as he bites his lip, trying to stifle his moans. 

You resume your rhythm, your mouth moving up and down his length with renewed determination. His body tenses and relaxes under your touch, his attempts to stay quiet adding an extra layer of intensity to the moment. You can see the effort he’s making to remain silent, his face contorted with pleasure and concentration. You feel his body shudder again, signaling his impending climax. You increase your pace, your tongue paying more attention to the tip, your hand stroking the rest of his member. His grip tightens in the sheets, and you can see the strain in his eyes as he tries to keep from crying out. 

When he finally releases, it’s with a muffled groan, his body convulsing with pleasure. You take in every drop, swallowing and continue to suck gently, milking him of every last bit of his release. As you lie there, you both breathing heavily, Anton looks you in your eyes, a mischievous smile now forming on his lips. “My turn,” he murmurs, his voice low and filled with promise. Before you can respond, he rolls you onto your back, his hands exploring your body with a new purpose. 

His fingers trail down your sides, sending shivers through you. He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “Remember, we have to be quiet.” The huskiness in his voice makes your breath catch, the anticipation building within you. His mouth moves to your neck, placing soft, teasing kisses along your skin. You bite your lip, stifling a moan as he finds the sensitive spot just below your ear. His hands roam over your curves, caressing and kneading your flesh with a gentle yet firm touch. 

He continues his journey downward, his kisses trailing from your neck to your collarbone, then lower to your breasts. Once again, his tongue flicks over one nipple while his hand massages the other one, the sensation making you arch into him. You struggle to keep your moans quiet, his touch so overwhelming, but so good. Opting for holding one of your hands over your mouth. Anton pauses, much like you had, looking up at you with a devilish grin. “You have to stay quiet,” he reminds you playfully, his voice barely above a whisper. The challenge in his eyes only makes you want him more. 

He returns to his actions, his mouth leaving a trail of fire down your abdomen. When he reaches your hips, he takes his time, kissing and nibbling the sensitive skin there. Your hands grip the sheets, your body begins trembling as you wait for what he does next. You had purposely chosen your light blue panties, knowing it was Anton’s favorite color. Anton’s fingers brushed against the edge of your panties, and he looked up. “Mmm, light blue, huh? Trying to drive me even more crazy?” he teased, his voice low.

You let out a little laugh, cheeks flushing. “Maybe,” you murmured, your gaze locking with his.

His touch became more deliberate, his breath warm against your skin as he leaned closer. “Well, it’s working,” he whispered, his eyes hard with desire. His fingers brushed against your panties, and he smirked. “God, you’re so wet for me already,” he says in a breathy tone. He let his fingers press gently against the damp fabric, feeling the heat emanating from you. “I can feel how much you want this,” he added, his tone laced with excitement. When his lips finally meet your core, a soft gasp escapes your lips. His tongue flicks out gently, exploring your folds with tender curiosity. You arch your back, a quiet moan slipping past your lips as pleasure courses through you. 

Anton’s movements are deliberate and skilled, something you didn’t know until this very moment. His tongue tracing patterns that make your toes curl. He finds your clit, circling it with gentle pressure, and you bite your lip to mute a louder response. His fingers join in, gently parting your folds to expose your most sensitive spots. He dips a finger inside you, his touch sending a shockwave of pleasure through your body.

You squirm beneath him, overwhelmed by the sensations he evokes. Anton’s pace quickens slightly, his ministrations driving you closer to the edge. You grip the sheets, trying desperately to maintain composure as pleasure builds within you. 

As you near the peak, Anton’s tongue becomes insistent, his fingers working in tandem to bring you to the brink. You struggle to keep your breathing steady, the need to stay quiet intensifying the pleasure. 

Finally, you can’t hold back any longer. With a soft cry that echoes into a stifled whimper, you release over Anton’s fingers, waves of ecstasy washing over you. Anton continues his gentle assault, prolonging your pleasure until you finally relax into your bed. His touch is gentle yet firm as he kisses your inner thigh, then comes up to capture your lips. You respond eagerly, pulling him closer as your hands slide up his back, feeling the tension in his muscles under your touch.

As you both lie together, catching your breath after the intensity of your passion, a thought crosses your mind. You shift slightly, breaking the silence in the room.

“Anton,” you mumble softly, your fingers tracing light patterns on his chest, “do you have a condom?”

Anton meets your gaze with a warm smile, his eyes hooded but still gleaming. He nods and reaches for his tossed pants, retrieving the condom. “Yes,” he replies in a low, reassuring voice, “I came prepared.” he breathes out. Feeling his hardness against you, you instinctively press closer, craving more of his warmth and closeness. The intensity of your mutual desire pulses between you, palpable in every touch, every caress. Anton’s hands find their way to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as his lips find yours in a hungry kiss. 

“I want you,” Anton murmurs against your lips, his voice thick with longing and urgency. His confession stirs a response in you, a deep yearning that matches his own. You reciprocate eagerly, your hands threading through his hair as you deepen the kiss, pouring all your passion into that moment.

“Anton,” you whisper, breathlessly, “I’ve been wanting this…wanting you.” As he rolls on the condom with practiced ease, his eyes never leave yours, filled with lust and reverence. You feel his hardness against you, a tangible reminder of his attraction to you. 

“Y/N,” Anton breathes against your ear, his voice thick with need, “Are you sure?” 

You met his gaze with unwavering intensity, your own desire burning brightly. “Yes,” you tell him, your voice tinged with anticipation and longing. “I’m begging you.”

A low growl escapes Anton’s throat at your words, his own yearning mirroring yours. With a swift movement, Anton positions himself above you, his gaze locked in with yours as he enters you slowly. He grunts when he feels your folds pressing against his cock. The sensation of his sizable member filling you up completely sends a rush of pleasure throughout your body. 

You gasp at the intensity of the feeling, arching into him, yearning for more of his touch, more of the overwhelming ecstasy only he can bring. Anton’s movements are deliberate and controlled, each thrust drawing a moan from your lips. “Y/N,” he breathes against your skin, his voice rough, “you feel so good.”

But then, unexpectedly, he changes his rhythm. Instead of deep and penetrating thrusts, Anton begins to move shallow, teasing strokes. Each shallow thrust grazes against your most sensitive spots, sending electric currents of pleasure through you. Your breath hitches as this new sensation overwhelms you, and you find yourself gasping for me.

The teasing trusts drive you wild, making your body tremble with need. “Anton, please,” you whimper, your voice shaky with desire.

He smirks against your neck, enjoying the effect he has on you. “You want more?” he murmurs, his voice a low growl.

“Yes,” you gasp, your hands clutching at his back, your nails digging into his skin. “Harder, please.” 

Anton’s restraints snaps at your plea. He adjusts his position and begins to pound into you with a powerful, relentless pace. Each movement is intense, his hips slamming against yours with a force that makes you cry out in pleasure. The feeling of him driving into you, hard and deep, sends waves of ecstasy crashing through you, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge.

Anton’s hands roam your body, exploring every curve and eliciting shivers of pleasure. His touch firm yet tender, heightening the senses overwhelmed by the intoxicating blend of lust and longing. Desperate for more contact, you whimper softly, your voice thick with need, “Anton, please, touch me.”

With one hand steadying himself beside you, his other hand slides down your body, fingers finding your sensitive bud. He circles it slowly at first, teasingly, before applying just the right amount of pressure and speed that has you arching into him with a cry of pleasure. 

“Fuck yes,” you moan, your voice trembling, “right there, please don’t stop.” 

Anton’s grin is both wicked and tender as he watches your reactions, his own desire evident in the controlled urgency of his actions. “You look so beautiful when you beg,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. As the tension builds, Anton’s breathing becomes heavier, and his movements become sloppier. You can feel him starting to tremble, his control slipping as he nears his own climax. “Y/N,” he groans, his voice raw and filled with need, “I’m so close.”

“Then come for me,” you whisper, your voice laced with anticipation. Your word spur him on, and with a final, deep thrust, Anton comes undone, his body shuddering with the force of his release. His moan of pleasure raw and primal, his eyes squeezing shut as he surrenders to the overwhelming feeling of ecstasy. The sight and the sound of him losing control sends a rush of heat through you, pushing you closer to your own edge. 

As Anton’s climax subsides, his fingers on your clit maintain their motion, the pressure and speed perfect for driving you over the edge. “I want to see you let go,” he tells you. His words are the final push you need. Your body arches up, and you cry out his name as your orgasm takes over you, each wave more intense than the last. Anton watches you, his eyes filled with admiration, his hand stopping until you are completely spent. 

As the final tremors of your climax fade, you collapse back onto the bed, your breathing heavy and uneven. Anthon gently pulls you into his arms, his touch tender and reassuring. “That was incredible,” he says in a hushed tone. 

You smile up at him, “It really was,” you agree, your voice still breathless. For a moment, you both lie there in the quiet, the intensity of the moment slowly giving way to a warm, comforting afterglow. Anton’s fingers trace gentle patterns on your skin, and you snuggle closer to him, feeling content and safe in his embrace. 

Finally, Anton breaks the silence, his voice soft but filled with sincerity. “Y/N, I like that we’re keeping this a secret for now, just to see what we really want.”

You nod, understanding the importance of this discretion. “I agree,” you say, your eyes meeting his. “But whatever this is, I’m glad we’re doing.”

Anton smiles, his eyes shining with affection. “Me too,” he says, pulling you closer.“ The room is filled with a comfortable silence, only the sound of your breathing and occasional creak if the house settles around you. Eventually, Anton shifts slightly, his voice a low murmur. “I don’t want this to end, but I should probably go before Sohee comes upstairs.”

“You’re right,” you say softly. With one last lingering touch, Anton slips out of bed and begins to gather his clothes. As he dresses, you can’t help but stare at his body, still in awe at how good he looks. Anton pauses at the door, glancing back at you with a smile. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Anton,” you reply, your heart full as you watch him leave. The door closes softly behind him, and you lie back on the bed, a contented smile on your face. 

[zmediaoutlet]

aw, @runawaydr3amerao3 (!!) tagged me to do a little fic questionnaire, which seems like the perfect thing for a springtime friday afternoon -- also a fun (alarming) trip to the AO3 statistics page:

1. How many works on AO3?

220

2. Total AO3 Word Count?

1,589,415

3. Top 5 fics by Kudos?

1. oh so good, oh so fine; 2. there will be better days; 3. see things so much clearer; 4. into the flood again; 5. side two, track one

4. What fandoms do you write for?

...Supernatural, lol. Although I also have dabbled in the usual suspects: J2 AUs, HP, MCU, Final Fantasy, etc.

5. Do you respond to comments?

Usually! Not if they're emojis, but if someone's left actual words I try to respond. I'm currently very behind, yikes, and the new rate-limiter on AO3 is not helping.

6. Angstiest Ending?

Hm. Probably a tie between cheyenne and the hollow summer; they're both no-hope spots, which I normally avoid like plague, but they were appropriate for those stories.

7. Fic with the Happiest Ending?

Arguably it should be any of the heaven fics, haha, but I think it might be the constant vow -- not because nothing bad will ever happen to them again (s7 is coming!), but because they're so tied together by the circumstances of that fic that I think maybe they can weather any danger.

8. Do you get hate?

Sometimes! Rarely regarding fic, though, and I've often wondered why. Maybe because my public-facing affect is so hard-shelled. You can't poke me, trolls. Sorry.

9. Do you write smut?

And well. :)

10. Do you write crossovers?

Only a few! I like them in concept but the only way I like them is if they're hard fucking work, lol. It's a fun challenge tho, sometimes.

11. Ever had a fic stolen?

I know for a fact I've had a few lines plagiarized here and there, and boy is that a queasy-making experience when you notice. But as far as whole fics, idk. Whatever happens on wattpad can stay there.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, a handful, and the BEST thing is to then take that translated fic and run the bot-translation back into English. Some of the shit that happens is surprisingly poetic and some of it will make you laugh until you cry, haha. But I think my favorite is the translation of the heaven fic into Spanish, because the title became so beautiful: llegarán días mejores. <3

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

Only once, and it was a shitty experience. Not just bc of other things about the co-writer but like -- I thought we were going to co-write and not what actually happened, which is that I wrote everything and the like two pages she contributed had to get re-written. :/ It's a fun idea in theory but the practice was. Bad.

14. All time favourite ship?

...guess. --ALTHOUGH if we get outside my own writing there are tons of ships I adore and just never feel the need to actually write anything. Shout-out Amram/Zelikman from Gentlemen of the Road.

15. WIPs you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I despair of my super long J2 AU that's the xover with the Kushiel 'verse, Nightblooming Flowers. What's there is fun and fine, and kind of works as an ending where it does cut off, but it was supposed to get a complicated knotty plot and... ugh. Also the writing style is a lot more flowery than I actually like to do -- appropriate for the subject matter but it's just not something I gear into easily. Maybe I should reread the book series and just lock in. (Maybe I should quit my job.)

16. Writing Strengths?

I think I'm really good at the balance of when to switch between summary and scene -- and from there pacing generally. To my credit, when it's fucked up in a story I do know; I just don't always have the wherewithal to fix it. :)

17. Writing Weaknesses?

PLOT. And also, as my bud has pointed out, I avoid shenanigans, and that's to my detriment actually. I never want to do cutesy shit -- twists, reveals, ticking clocks, villains, last-minute character introductions, etc. I think this is bc I really learned taste on literary short-form and including things that make reading actually fun is very looked down on, haha. Honestly I should make that a challenge. Shenanigans Bingo.

18. Thoughts on mixed language dialogue?

It's great. I'm only comfortable enough to do it in Spanish pero no es algo debería disputar--debe escribir en el idioma apropriado para el cuento y los personajes. Although I'm never totally sure if I'm using por or para right. Once the entire conversation switches into another language I do prefer that the narrative just quietly indicate that now they're speaking French or w/e and continue in English; actually writing in the other language is most useful when you're obscuring information from the narrative POV (although becomes a nice Bilingual Bonus for the reader).

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Final Fantasy! I'm sure it was bad.

20. Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

Errr. In one sense, always the most recent one. But I think the actual writing in asceticism might be the best.

Now I get to tag other people, yay. Let's see: @enteselene, @hearthouses-admin; @flownwrong; @nigeltde-fic, @phynali, @quickreaver, @themegalosaurus

[the-starry-seas]

last line challenge

tagged by my beloved @loverboy-havocboy

who is of course uno reverse tagged! and idk who else is working on things rn so if you see this, consider yourself tagged!

"Can't you behave for, I dunno, five minutes?" Mordecai asks.

Talon tilts his head, seemingly considering this, before screeching again - quieter, this time - and stretching his neck out to nibble at the buckle on Mordecai's mask.

Eh, close enough.

"He is so cute," Lilith comments, looking up from the holomap table. Even though Mordecai's told everyone not to touch Talon until he gets out of his biting stage, Lilith hangs around a lot, apparently boundlessly curious about the process.

Mordecai takes a breath to once again correct that Talon's a badass, actually, but then she says something that knocks it all right out of him.

"Roland would be proud of you for all the work you're putting into him. It's never looked easy but you've always been careful with the little guy."

Oh.

Mordecai glances at Talon, who clicks his beak in irritation at not being able to reach the buckle. It was just Mordecai and Roland, after Brick got exiled and Lilith went into hiding. Not having him around any more... well, some days it's as hard as not having Bloodwing.

"Thanks, Lil," he says, his chest tight. Talking about Roland still makes him feel that way. "That, uh... that means a lot. And I think - I think he would've been real proud of you, too, you know what I'm saying?"

He's not sure that she does, but a little lightness comes into her eyes anyway, and she nods and says,

"Thanks, bird man. Now, you wanna go shoot stuff?"

[lostdrarryfics]

lostdrarryfics monthly roundup - a month behind schedule, oops :)

Below you will find the requests we could not locate in the months of March and April. Please let us know if you recognize any!

You can also browse our lengthy lost fic masterlist, where we have compiled every request we have been unable to find over the past few years. We're always hoping someone will recognize a fic so we can let the asker know what It was!

1. Draco was an unspeakable of a sort, I don't know if they have special branches or something like that, I could be mixing it, I think he was working on a really specific project, like time travel, time turner or black magic. Draco was being treated badly outside his work, people were saying nasty things about him after the war, so in his job he was free because even his co-workers didn't know who he was, they were given nicknames after the stars; he has the name of a polar star, and one of his co-workers was making fun of this, saying names of the polar star of different times, and I just have that exact scene in my head and his boss making him do a specific mission, like with the aurors or things like that, but I can't grab more about the plot, possible Hermione was an unspeakable too, but I searched with that tag too, so I'm not sure.

2. I might have even mixed up things from two different fics, I'm not sure. The setting is in eighth year, and Harry goes back to Hogwarts, I think he goes back even though he doesn't feel like it, or he goes back without R, idk. The fic might have started with, ' theo had seen draco's boggart', or something about D's boggart. H might have walked in on D having a panic attack, & he 'turned right around and left'

3. I remember reading this story yeeeears ago (like 15 years or more) on FF.net. Harry and Draco were both prisoners (Azkaban I think). They basically bond during their imprisonment and I remember Draco was abused quite a bit by others. I remember the escape scene near the end, they jump out a window and land in the ocean below, and struggle to swim (I think Draco almost drowns/can’t swim).

4. looking for this fic that I read early this year, and I actually don't remember much, so if you don't find it it's okay. I remember that it was post war and I think after eight year too, and Draco and Harry meet again. I remember that almost at the end of the fic Draco start therapy and he is going to a muggle group therapy and he makes friends there and the story that he says to them is that he comes from a cult. And there's a scene in the last chapter were Draco and Harry are in a coffee shop and Draco writes to Harry I love you in a napkin and that's the first time he said it but Harry knows but Draco is bad with feelings. And I think Draco has something to do with poisons but I don't remember that well.

5. fic I read on A03. I think it may have been posted after 2018. It was a wedding fic and I want to say it was either at an estate or a destination wedding and I'm almost positive it was between a Gryffindor and a Slytherin. If I recall correctly Draco is helping get everything planned. The one scene I remember best is that he corners Harry in his room, they start getting intimate (there's a full length mirror in the room that plays a role but I can't remember how intimately of a role it plays) and Ron interrupts them. I know that it isn't: We were something (don't you think so) by Slyth_princess, I would do it again (if I could hold you for a minute) by stephinahole, Nights With You by The_Sinking_Ship, Blood and Fire by lqtraintracks. The story I read was I believe Draco walked into Harry's room while he's getting ready for the wedding, then they start hooking up. mid way Ron comes in looking for them and is basically like yeah not the time and throws clothes at them. I want to also say Draco was helping to plan the wedding but I could be wrong. It really had elements of all the four fics: Slytherin/Gryffindor wedding, them struggling to get it together with their pining, and getting gently nudged together.

6. The fic was a WIP when I read it and it was on the author’s personal website. I would say this was around 2007 or 2008. I don’t remember the title or author. Harry and Draco are at Hogwarts as teachers (I think) and there’s some big plot with the chamber of secrets. The scene I remember most is the first romantic / sex scene and Draco says something about Harry calling his bluff. I know the author posted updates on InsaneJournal.

7. I read this fic on AO3 last year but I don’t think it was a new fic. It is post war getting together fic where Drarry end up being queer-platonic partners. I can’t remember if I’m commingling two fics but Draco was asexual and Harry didn’t really know what that meant.

8. fic where H and D were in an established relationship, but H's friends and family aren't happy with D at all. H gets hurt, and spends a long time in mungos unconscious. At first, it's really awkward between D and the Weasleys when visiting. After a while though, D and Ron start playing chess together while visiting H. When H wakes up he's surprised by how much friendlier the two are. I'm pretty sure it was a short fic, and probably on ao3?

9. Drarry fic I read many years ago, probably on fanfiction.net. The title was latin. Harry and Ginny are having sex, Harry's not into it and watches a spider in the ceiling before starting to fantasize about gray eyes which makes him moan out Draco's name. Ginny storms out and the next morning the school knows and people moan out Draco's name as a joke. Later on, Harry walks into the astronomy tower and Draco is there, they talk and then have sex. Draco explains what the title of the fic is, which is like "love conquers all" or something?

10. Harry is struggling with self-harm and one time after he does it he walks back to his dorm and hear’s Draco playing All The I Need by Boyzone on the guitar and singing and Harry is in total awe. I know this one is a bit obscure but none of my friends believe that it exists and I’ve somehow lost it. I’m just hoping it hasn’t been deleted atp

11. Draco and Harry always talking to each other in parseltongue and acting like they were fighting but they were saying sweet things and being worried about each other, so Hermione decided to learn in secret and by her we found out what they were saying. I think it was short and definitely on AO3

12. fic happening in sixth year. I remember Harry getting drugged through chocolate by an admirer but instead finds Draco getting tossed out for trying to get into the Slug Party when the potion takes effect. Harry beelines, they have an encounter (some snogging, Draco shoving „what the fuck, potter“, yet he’s down bad for parseltongue). After asked from Voldemort on his task, V deducts he’s not telling everything (Draco sweat moment here). He asks Draco of confirmation that Harry is in fact a parselmouth. V proceeds to rummage through his memories, lands on the broomstick cupboard scene eventually and deducts Harry’s obviously under the influence and however that he wouldn’t react as strongly without a base attraction so instructs Draco to use it and get close to Harry. Unfinished work ends there pretty much as I remember. I remember a comment along the lines of „unwilling but seductive Draco“ and the author replying liking that wording if that helps at all.

13. The first one is that Ron, Harry and Draco were looking over a map at some point in which Draco and Ron laughed together because of their discovery of something. Second Ron and Harry were both Aurors and Draco was helping them with something. Near the end the story they were at a haunted tomb of an entity who immediately felt attracted to Draco because of his similarity to the entity's lover that caused it to die. Draco was being protected by Harry for some odd reason. At the ending chapter's of the story some of their team of Aurors died because of a powerful blast from the entity, which caused Harry to shield himself and Draco with a forcefield. Last but not least I remember part of the story where they're all riding camels in a desert area of some some which causes Harry to mock him. Also I believe that the title of the story included the words "Draco" and "Tomb". Also it was set after the war but it wasn't canon compliant after.

[thegeminisage]

Rate Your OC: Rook Mercar

i was tagged by @itsrainingpandas, thank you!!! everybody go read this fic it made me nuts

Compassion: 8/10

giving her a high but not 100% rating on this because i think she's incredibly compassionate and cares a lot about the greater good, but that compassion is also conditional. for example, let's say a...coworker's grandmother died and he was DEVASTATED. she would show up with bad jokes and a can-do attitude and go to go to the funeral with him etcetc. if that same thing happened to like. idk a magister. she would show up at the funeral not for moral support but to throw rotten vegetables. 

Bitterness: 1,000,000/10

what's so funny is if you asked rook if she was bitter she would respond, with chest, like haha what? no! that's silly! who has that kind of time! and then she would go stare at herself in the mirror for ten minutes without moving. i don't think even she realizes it until it's time to choose between cities and she just...can't care about minrathous, her birthplace and home for the last ~15 years, more than she cares about treviso, which she visited for the first time five metaphorical minutes ago. a lot of shitty stuff has happened to her and most of it was not her fault, and because her parents were slaves, and because (at least in my mind palace, but i am extrapolating from what we hear from dorian and krem) minrathous is not a good place to be trans, and because, as a shadow dragon, she sees the evils of that city up close day in and day out...i think she reached critical mass at about the same time the dragon attack happened and then spent a long time second-guessing how she feels and what really matters to her. 

Happiness: 7/10

despite all that, i don't think rook is one to dwell unless like. something comes up. varric says about all rooks that they tend to think in straight lines, and i interpret that to mean if she has a goal or work she finds meaning in, people to share life with, and nothing overtly rancid is actively happening to her, she is satisfied. she's very quick with the jokes and one of those people who are like. what can you even do but laugh about it. the city choice was just the perfect storm of awfulness.

Chivalry: 0/10

she grew up on a boat. for the first ~13 years of her life she associated exclusively with sailors and dockhands and their children. she knows the cuss words in every language in thedas and has no respect for authority. 

Pride: 3/10

all but impossible to embarrass. if she tripped over her own feet or accidentally smacked herself in the face with her staff or stuck her foot in her mouth she'd cope with that pretty easily. she doesn't do awkward moments. this sort of comes from the trans coffee date dialogue ("life is too short to be defined by other people") which implies she really doesn't care what others think. her one thing is, having spent so much time in tevinter where it's only been legal to be trans for as long as maevaris tilani has been doing it, being weird about that in any way will get her shoulders up around her ears. like, she still doesn't care what you think but in the way that she is preparing herself to punch you about it if she has to.

Honesty: 5/10

she has a good poker face (grace face?) but she's kind of a bad liar. it's not even that she objects to lying morally. she's 100% pro lying (she was friends with varric, after all). she's just not good at it. she can tell little fibs and sometimes con her way past guards or soldiers in the moment when a plan requires it (sorry for the m*rvel reference but she COULD do get help), but usually when she has to lie she goes "fuck it" and just starts swinging. she also can't keep Big Secrets from loved ones without it eating her inside and she would also be useless at anything resembling a long con or deep undercover work. no solas-esque double life for her.

Bravery: 11/10

i think this applies to all rooks, really. you kind of have to be to tangle with gods.

Recklessness: 11/10

i feel like this is also a universal rook trait - every rook did something reckless to get kicked out of their home country prior to teaming up with varric, and varric says that "thinks in straight lines" thing about all rooks too, but yes, she leaps before she looks unless there are lives on the line, in which case she does both at the same time.

Ambition: 0/10

it's a good thing she wasn't the protagonist of inquisition because she would've hacked her arm off right then and there and told them to deal with it themselves. she does Not like being a leader and can't wait until varric gets better so he can take the job back from her :)

Loyalty: 9/10 

it would have been 10/10 before she stabbed neve in the back with the city choice <3

Love: 8/10

rook loves pretty easily (not just romantically, but in all senses) and is pretty open about loving people, but she's lost so many people that she worries that she'll eventually get hurt again. which is inevitable, but she can't ever seem to help herself. for lucanis specifically, rook tried very hard NOT to love him (she has abomination trauma) and then did anyway in spite (lol) of her best intentions.

Sense of Family: 5/10

she loved her parents a lot and had a really good relationship with them both prior to them dying in the mage-templar conflict at the end of da2, and she considers the shadow dragons her found family...until they kick her out. having lost two families in a row, she's a little slower to come to terms with the idea of the veilguard team as her family, but she gets there eventually. with the exception of varric, of course. she came to think of him as family pretty quickly. probably there involved a little bit of booze and her ugly sobbing on his shoulder about the unfairness of it all re: kirkwall and then they couldn't not be friends after that. boy, it's a good thing that lyrium dagger missed his heart and that he's got a nice big infirmary to recover in, she would be devastated if anything happened to the guy who gave her her name!

Attractiveness: ??/10

i don't think i can judge this objectively. that said, i did go into the CC (before i even knew i was making an OC out of her) intending to make her a little plain, because always seeing these dragon age supermodels makes things feel...a little unrealistic. she's not supposed to be super sexy, she's just Some Guy (gender neutral). i DO think it's really funny that lucanis (demi king) is like "yeah she's fine i guess objectively she's pretty enough" until he falls for her and then suddenly without her having altered her appearance at all he finds her so attractive that he's walking into walls

Agility: 5/10

she's no rogue or anything, but she did get combat training from her mom, who used to be one of danarius's bodyguards. coincidentally, one of the weapons she did best with was a quarterstaff, which means as a mage she can also just...beat people up with her staff even if she gets silenced. very handy.

Sex Drive: 10/10

she was taking the thedas version of estrogen starting in her late teens and had NO adult supervision when she was adopted by the anti-slavery group who eventually formed the shadow dragons. she was having so much casual sex. safe sex! consensual sex! don't worry. she got sex ed and she doesn't get into anything hinky she can't get herself out of. but lots of sex. she gets horny so often it annoys her. during the year she spent hanging out with varric and harding she'd be like sorry lads i've gotta step away for the evening and theyre like AGAIN and she is like yeah again and trust me i also wish i was not like this. this is specifically to contrast with lucanis, who didn't even really know what being horny felt like until he met her.

I AM TAGGING: @maulthots @slaygentford @sun-marie @flowersforthemachines unless you've done it already, in which case, whoops. AND i'm tagging anybody else who wants to do it do it & say i tagged you <3

[adamsvanrhijn]

20 Fanfic Author Questions

tagged by @effervescentyellow! <3

1. How many works on AO3?

151 total (133 visible, 18 private)

2. Total word count on AO3?

744,368

3. Top five fics by kudos?

Goncharov (film) - 2,053

you will not take my heart, alive - 732

vulnerary - 641

what we must to get by - 622

took no time with the fall - 438

4. What fandoms do you primarily write for?

The Gilded Age & Downton Abbey at present!!

5. Do you respond to comments?

I do my best and am way better at being consistent with it right now but there was a long stretch of time when I just was not. Which I feel really bad about but have not yet gone back in to reply to those and IDK if that'll happen at this point :'-)

6. Angstiest ending?

well the answer to this is probably about to change because right now i don't.... think... i have any endings that would qualify as angsty i fear... waken us from sleeping and when to my soul, the body would say both do not have the last chapter up yet but would maybe come close although i'd go more for bittersweet than angsty even then

7. Fic with the happiest ending?

Like everything else lol < stealing effervescentyellow's answer but also probably vulnerary

8. Do you get hate?

not on ao3 usually! elsewhere. well yes

9. Do you write smut?

i write a lot more than i publish but yes!

10. Do you write crossovers?

Not really.... I've dabbled a little but it's not really my thing

11. Ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes!! @skyandfields translated two of my Les misérables fics into Mandarin which you can find on my Related Works page on AO3

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

I have had extensive collaboration on fic where I or the other person does all the actual writing, and done collaborative pieces like Wait for Tomorrow which was a groupchat brainchild, but not really cowritten anything where we both do writing and editing with each other

14. All time favorite ship?

All time....... I refuse.... My longest ship is Enjolras/Combeferre from Les misérables which is a ~15 year event at this point & the ship I'm most obsessed with at the moment is John Adams/Oscar van Rhijn from The Gilded Age. And I was deeply obsessed with Thomas Barrow/Richard Ellis from Downton Abbey for a solid two years there and that was the most productive I've ever been fanfic creation wise.

15. WiPs you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

LOL. LMAO even

I maintain that I do want to finish everything I currently have up that isn't otherwise specified to be honest. I will say i can still make the whole place shimmer (i'll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror) is about to get jossed which is AMAZING because I never ever expected it possibly would but also... I might still finish that one!! I really like it and I have a lot of it written.

16. Writing strengths?

Dialogue & to a lesser extent character voice 100%

17. Writing weaknesses?

I'm an adverbs guy unfortunately... I have also been trying to work on actually setting scenes prior to diving into interaction because I think that's my biggest area for improvement.

18. Thoughts on mixed language dialogue?

Slaps. Can't write it bc I'm not proficient enough in languages other than English, but slaps

19. First fandom you wrote for?

HP 🫣 Actually no just kidding it was Power Rangers. I forgor

20. Favorite fic you've ever written?

EVER in my LIFE.... Gosh. Right now I'm actually really proud of what's coming up in and all the stars aligned but I don't think that's my favorite Ever and the bulk of the work has not even been published yet ajlkfdsd. I also really love and am proud of most everything in the Thomas and Sybil get married universe: si l'on n'a pas de soleil, il faut en faire un.

Tagging five people + anyone else who wants to do it feel free to say I tagged you :* @astarion-dekarios @marschallin @likehandlingroses @waistcoat35 @saltedpin