#past me is so real for having that tag in my recommended tags
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aziraphales-library · 14 hours ago
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Hello! Thanks for all your hard work, I’ve found so many good fics through here.
Do you have any recommendations for human au fics where Crowley and Aziraphale have known each other for a long time before becoming romantically involved. Could be acquaintances or co-workers or even friends, but looking for a good rec without a real meet cute/strangers-to-lover situation! Thanks so much :)
Hi! We have #friends to lovers and #childhood friends tags which you can check for lots of fics like this. Here are some more to add...
be mine tonight (be mine forever) by artenon (T)
Aziraphale knows he’s a solitary person. He knows Crowley may very well be his only true friend. He doesn’t mind this. He does, however, very much mind learning that his coworkers have a betting pool on whether he’ll be coming alone to the department holiday party next week. He especially minds when he learns that the reason there is a betting pool in the first place is because their intern, young Newton Pulsifer, is the only one naïve enough to believe Aziraphale might have a date. ----- In retaliation to a bet made against him, Aziraphale asks Crowley to be his date to the office holiday party. Certainly there are no flaws to be found in this plan. Certainly the secret love Aziraphale has been harboring for Crowley for the past several years won't be an issue. Certainly not.
Slipping by AppleSeeds (T)
When Aziraphale's friend and colleague Crowley asks him out at their work Christmas party, Aziraphale turns him down, having only ever thought of Crowley as a friend. Months later, Aziraphale's feelings for Crowley have changed, but due to a series of increasingly ridiculous misunderstandings, they both become convinced that the other isn't interested in a romantic relationship. (They're just adorable, oblivious, and pining, that's the whole fic.)
Wanna Bet? by Mimsynims (E)
“What do you mean, ‘you can’t find my name’?” “I’m sorry, sir. We have bookings for all of your colleagues, but your name is missing. Unfortunately that means there’s no room set aside for you.” “Right…” Crowley could guess who had made the ‘mistake’. “But surely there’s another room available? It doesn’t have to be on the same floor as the others’.” He would actually prefer it if it wasn’t.  “I’m afraid not, sir. Due to the conference all of our rooms are booked already.” The young woman on the other side of the counter looked genuinely distressed. “Most hotels within the vicinity are.” Crowley sighed and furrowed his brows. He didn’t even want to be here in the first place, and now he didn’t have a place to sleep? Knowing Gabriel, it would be no use asking to be allowed to go back home.  “Let me check something…” The woman brightened again, a small smile growing on her face. “Yes. It’s not ideal, but it seems that two of your colleagues have been placed in double rooms. Perhaps you or someone else can consider sharing?” Anyone want to guess who he ends up sharing a room with? ;)
On The Side by FeralTuxedo (E)
Aziraphale is far too pure of heart to be anybody’s bit on the side. Or so Crowley thinks. But when his friend starts seeing walking red flag Jim, with his dodgy smiles and mysterious past, Crowley does everything he can to protect Aziraphale from disaster. His own heart might just end up being collateral damage.
i've found a way (a way to make you smile) by curtaincall (T)
Crowley worked in Sales. He had never intended to work in Sales. It had just sort of happened. One moment, there he’d been, a newly minted university graduate off to change the world, exquisitely useless Philosophy degree in hand, and now here he was, having sauntered vaguely downwards into a Hell that consisted mainly of cold-calling new customers and sucking up to existing ones.   AU based on The Office.
Between Comfort And Chaos by anathxmadevice (T)
“And how long have you two been a couple?” “Oh, I—” Aziraphale panics. “Ha, well, that’s a funny… We’re not actually—” “We’re just friends.” Crowley says, their voice clear and calm and lightly amused, either because of or in spite of Aziraphale’s flailing attempts to divert the conversation. “Ah, yes, quite.” Aziraphale says, then takes a sip of his drink just for something to do, instead of focussing on the way Crowley said just friends, and how it causes a painful throb in his chest that he has never fully got used to. His memory can only scrabble at the edge of a time where being just friends with Crowley didn’t feel like a particular form of torture. * Or, Aziraphale has been desperately in love with his best friend and housemate Crowley since they were students, but is too scared to do anything about it.
- Mod D
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starry-stan-blog · 1 year ago
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this is the first time that we get a different character’s perspective on the effect of luo binghe’s death on shen qingqiu.
sqq is flippant about binghe’s death, and from his perspective, he manages to spin the narrative convincingly enough that, as readers, you almost believe that he truly isn’t affected by lbh’s fall.
however, gongyi xiao can tell instantly that sqq is mourning. I think sqq is up to his neck in denial. he just had to go against every moral and feeling he had to push his favourite character—favourite person—into what lbh believed was certain death.
that’s got to hurt.
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imaginethathaikyuu · 3 months ago
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because im curious
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nostalgia-tblr · 3 months ago
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loki/william rufus fic, where bill explains that as the second son he has inherited england while big brother bob only got the duchy of normandy, ha ha ha.
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#no offence to normandy of course i'm sure it's a fine duchy with many things to recommend it.#oh but wait! England Son then dies in a “Hunting Accident” and the next brother heads for the capital ASAP!#where is Bob? idk i think he was on crusade or something. BUT! he'll get to stay in england when henry keeps him captive for life <3#apparently robert got very into welsh poetry while imprisoned for being the older brother so maybe that made up for it all?#PLOT TWIST: henry the first of england leaves no legitimate sons and england ends up having a civil war when he dies.#btw it still throws me a bit that post-conquest kings have names like william and robert while the pre-1066 dudes are all named Aethelthing#*whispers* i kind of feel like asgard should be on a atheling system like pre-conquest england but i don't want to complicate things.#though this would explain why Thor 1 treats a Loki succession as a real possibility and thinks aptitude for kingship in any way matters.#whereas the later movies all assume it works on primogeniture (and none of us in fandom really absorbed the fact that when hela shows up#thor instantly accepts that she's ahead of him in the line of succession and objects to her evilness rather than her sex/gender.#so clearly if thor and loki have an older sister the OLDER matters more than the SISTER. right? yet sif is the only female warrior.#and while i think the 'kings NEED to go into battle!' thing was overstated by the past and by modern observers we do all go along with that#in the context of these films don't we? loki is unsuitable due to his *checks notes* weak fragile feminine form.#*looks at him and experiences a brief moment of cognitive dissonance before moving on*#and that's a story more of us want to tell (or i assume that's what's up) so we all just ignore The Hela Evidence don't we?)#(i can explain my own reasons if anyone asks but nobody will so i won't bother doing it in these tags.)#btw a friend once made a william the conqueror joke about passing the duchy on the left hand side which was FANSTASTIC#but explaining it would take far too long so i won't do that either. BUT IT WAS RLY FUNNY U GUYS (gender-neutral)!#history shitposting#plus the mcu because of course
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spacedkey · 10 months ago
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the eternal struggle of reading webcomics/manga/manh(w/u)a that i think are really good but have cringe ass titles so i can't recommend them without someone doubting my sensibilities and taste in stories
#not that my tastes are *that* good...#or do people ask me for good comics often enough for this to be a real problem#or.. people talking to me at all for this conversation to come up...#anyway please ask for some comics to read. i need someone to join me in my warrior's path#of reading things but never finishing them because either they aren't done being#written and/or translated yet..#or whatever the word for when adhd says i can't read any more because the story is *too* good and so i get paralysis trying to keep reading#to anyone curious-#i just caught up with sss-class revival hunter#and was reminded how much of a sucker i am for romance... ;_:#GUH i can't gush in the tags here... there's already too many tags#but it's soo good#here's my recommend of it for those reading the tags:#really good starting plot- read a synopsis for that i'm bad at that#there's a little dip in attention keeping between the end of the introduction phase and when he starts floor 10#but if you get past that little dip it's all up hill from there#ough i'm still thinking about it.#IT'S NOT A ROMANCE BTW. the most recent plot is romance but that's not the overarching thing#at least for what's out. idk how much what happened is going to effect the rest of the story#ok ok i need to stop talking about it because i'm getting too riled up and overpowering the melatonin i took. don't want to break my sleep#schedule over this#key's lockbox#rambling in tags#btw i don't have shame in the stuff i read regardless of their bad titles#i just wanted to use this premise to get my words out about enjoying my latest read
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i need to stop forgetting things exist the fucking second they leave my field of vision. why is is impossible for two things to occupy my mind at once especially when im tired. like. i feel like a sim. i feel like actions are being canceled and i just. move on. and completely forget what i was doing moments before. i fucking hate it
#i feel like it’s getting worse too#like its always hasn’t been great but the past few weeks have been especially bad#why can’t i remember things!! why is my short term memory sucking ass!!!!!!#like if i don’t write/type things down i loose it#making me wanna rip my hair out what the fuck is going on!!!!!#gonna start playing those phone games that improve memory or whatever#it’s either that or going to my mom for an essential oil recommendation#i know it’s probably some undiagnosed shit but im also like. i can’t keep blaming whatever is wrong with my brain because its a problem with#/me/. ya know?? like. yeah it is something with my brain. obviously. but i need to take some sort of action to fix it. and i dont know what#that action is#besides the two options i said before#or carrying a fucking notebook around and writing down everything. which is stupid also and i know won’t last a week#problem is im gonna forget about any rule i come up with since as soon as im preoccupied with something else. i’ll forget the rule#i would need a hat with the reminder on paper tapped to the hat#so it’s always dangling in front of my eyes#i don’t know what else to do at this point!!!!#it’s making me so worried about going away for college. cause yeah i did really well at community. but if i have the deteriorating memory#of a goldfish who’s constantly banging its head against the glass. how am i gonna make it through university.#i love writing essays in the tags that no one will read <3#having a ball rn. a great time. not feeling like a waste of resources at all rn. feeling great.#if my mom doesn’t let me wear my earbuds tomorrow i think ill scream#anyways. gonna bake some blueberry lemon sweet rolls tomorrow#me rambling#i love being undiagnosed#but let’s be real#being diagnosed won’t give me anything other than more of an excuse#because i can’t go on meds with my current living situation#and i also don’t really want to go on meds because i don’t trust them#feeling silly i think ill actually post this one maybe someone has a suggestion for what to do#vent
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rafeysbunny · 2 months ago
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‧₊˚ ⋅ i'll show you, rafe cameron
stepbro!rafe x fem!reader
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synopsis. in which your stepbrother kindly offers to show you porn for the first time.
warnings. stepbro!rafe, innocent!reader (but she's not an airhead), virgin!reader, smut, fingering, rafe putting in just the tip, oral sex (fem receiving), rafe licks his own creampie.
word count. 4k.
author's note. idea by @matts1andonly. english isn't my first language so there might be spelling mistakes, don't hold it against me. enjoy!
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it's past midnight when you finally slide out of your bedroom without making a sound. you have been waiting patiently for your mom and ward to go to bed so you can do this without risking getting caught. wheezie is already asleep too, sarah is out with john b somewhere, and rafe left the house earlier, not telling anyone where to, so you know he's going to arrive late, as always.
it's the perfect moment.
rafe's room is down the hallway, so you make your way there quietly not to wake anyone, your barefoot feet making soft footstep sounds when you walk. once there, you open the door as carefully as you possibly can, knowing it creaks every time it gets open. this time, thanks to god, it does not.
you manage to sneak into the dormitory unnoticed, then shut the door behind you. the place is dark, only a faint glimmer of moonlight coming in through his curtains, but you want to lay low, so you don't turn on the lights. by all means, the dim lighting is enough for you to spot what you're looking for.
rafe's mac, laying there on his desk.
what's the point behind all of this? you might be wondering. well, let me answer you real quick. turns out, this handsome, muscled college guy has invited you on a date. problem is, you have never been on a date. you haven't even hold hands with a guy romantically before, much less kissed or fucked one. you simply refuse to come off as a prude, which honestly you are, but that dream of a man doesn't need to know that.
and that's why you have decided that it is a good idea to break into your stepbrother's bedroom and borrow his laptop, since yours broke last week, to watch porn in it for the first time.
well, now that you hear it out loud, it probably sounded better in your head. anyways...
you stroll towards the desk with languid steps and sit down on rafe's chair, small hands reaching hesitantly to open the laptop. you turn it on and the screen light illuminates your pretty face right away. you swear your fingers are shaking a little bit as you open up the browser and type 'porn videos' on the search bar.
somehow, you feel like you are doing something wrong, and you can't seem to shake the guilt away. either way, you don't back out. you click the enter button and, after just a few seconds, a million search results pop up. honestly, you don't know where to start, so you click on the first one, which redirects you to a website called pornhub.
the home page is full of videos, the first thing to catch your attention being the obscene thumbnails of each one of them. your cheeks flush a deep shade of red. you read some of the titles as you bite your lip nervously, realising most of them contain the word 'stepsister' in them, and you wonder if that is the only content posted on this page.
how innocent of you not to know that the website is making recommendations based on your stepbro's most searched tag.
before things escalate further, you spot rafe's airpods max sitting there on the desk and decide to grab them, connecting them to the laptop and putting them on —this way you can make sure no one overhears anything. after that, you spend a few more minutes scrolling through the page, during which you discover that there's a ton of categories to choose from.
how are you supposed to know which one to pick?
you are so invested in your little research, headphones canceling the noise, that you don't hear neither rafe opening the front door nor him walking up the stairs and, surely, don't notice him standing behind you until he speaks. and it's too late by then.
"the fuck are you doing, sweetheart?" he blurts, complete and utterly shocked to see his naive stepsister fuckin' watching pornhub.
well shit, maybe you aren't as innocent as he thought you were.
you jolt instantly, jumping out of your seat as you feel all the colour draining from your cheeks. no way rafe just caught you in the act. this can't be real. despite how bad you want to run away, you are left with no other choice but to turn around and face him, wishing the earth would swallow you up.
"i– this is not what it looks like, i swear i can explain," you stutter nervously, taking of the airpods with trembling hands. from here on, the anxious rambling begins, "i wasn't doing anything... this guy– well, i... i uhm– i got a date, 'kay? with this guy from class and– listen, i know this is silly, but..."
"jesus christ, baby, slow down, 'kay?" he stops you, his heart nearly melting from how cute you look, so shy and flustered. he almost feels bad for interrupting whatever the hell you were doing here.
the colour has returned to your cheeks, and you are all flushed now, from head to toe. your face feels like it's on fire; you have never been this embarrassed before.
"could you please start over?" he asks, hoping to hear a coherent explanation to why you are in his room, in the middle of the night, and watching porn on his laptop.
you take a deep breath, fidgeting with the hem of your top. you are so deeply ashamed that you don't seem to remember that you are wearing nothing but a flimsy white singlet and a tiny pair of matching panties. rafe's very aware of that fact, though, hungry eyes trailing all over your beautiful body.
"i've got a date with a guy from class," you start explaining, white teeth nibling occasionally on your plump bottom lip, "but i've never dated anyone, ya' know? i've no experience, and i don't want him to think i'm pathetic if we..."
"fuck?" he finishes your sentence, a roguish grin spreading across his handsome face.
if possible, your blush deepens even more at the vulgarity while you mutter a quiet 'yeah' in response.
honestly, he is a bit jealous of that guy. not only you are willing to let him fuck you, but you are also trying to learn how to do it properly so he has a good time doing it. yeez, what a shame for him he is going to kill him as soon as he finds out who he is; there's no chance rafe's letting you near any other man but him.
"i thought, uhm, maybe watching that would help..." you add coyly, his silence making you more nervous.
it is cute how you try to avoid saying words like 'fuck' or 'porn', like it is a crime to pronounce them or something.
"you know what? let's watch it together," he proposes.
there's a mischievous glint in his eyes that doesn't go unnoticed. you swear your cheeks might just explode at any second, and you can't help the pathetic stutter that comes out when you talk. "uhm, i don't think that'd be appropriate," you refuse, shaking your head.
"why not? you want help, and i can help you here, sweetheart," he answers, his voice surprisingly soft and gentle —unlike rafe, "that's what big brothers are for, aren't they?"
he takes a few steps in his direction until he is standing right beside you. then, he grabs the laptop in his large hands as he flashes you a wicked smirk, his curtain bangs falling messily on his forehead. you gulp, having him so close makes you feel a certain way; you cannot deny that.
"you, uhm, being my stepbrother is exactly why not," you stammer as you tilt your head back to look at him, his height towering over you.
"bullshit," he retorts, huffing. "you trust me?"
your first mistake is, probably, trusting rafe cameron. "yeah, i do, but..."
"that's why 'm perfect for the job, baby," he interrupts you. his words are clearly intended to manipulate you, but you are way too innocent to notice it, "i'm probably the guy you feel most comfortable with, aren't i? i can give ya' all the advice you need."
to be fair, he isn't wrong about that. you don't have any male friends, and you are honestly too embarrassed to ask your girlfriends for help on this department, not wanting them to think less of you. plus, rafe is a guy; he knows better what guys like, right?
"wouldn't it be kinda... weird ?" you ask, clearly hesistant.
"weird?" he repeats. "no, 'course not."
only a few more sweet, reassuring words is all it takes for him to gently coax you into watching his favourite pornos with him. his cock starts to harden in his pants just at the thought of having you like that. when you finally accept, he swears he's on cloud nine.
god, he's been wanting you for months now; he can't believe this is happening.
"c'mere, baby," he eagerly instructs you, getting on his bed.
he sits with his back resting on the headboard and pats the spot between his legs to invite you to sit there. he places the laptop next to him, the pornhub website still open on it. you move slowly towards him, cheeks slightly flushed from the embarrassment as you settle on the mattress in between his parted thighs, your back pressed to his hard chest.
he wraps one strong arm securely around your waist, his hand coming to rest gently on your tummy. with his other hand, he reaches for the laptop sitting beside him, carefully bringing it closer so the two of you can see the screen properly.
your heart is beating so fast in your chest that he can probably hear it, too. the way he is touching you is not making it easier for you to stay calm, either, his fingers tenderly tracing patterns on your belly over the thin fabric of your shirt while he scrolls through the page.
he seems to sense your discomfort and chuckles low in his throat, his warm breath tickling your ear. "relax, sis," he whispers teasingly, his voice laced with amusement. "i'm not gonna make you watch anything that'll traumatize you."
"it's just– this is a bad idea," you babble, fidgeting nervously when he finally clicks on a video and a pretty young woman appears on screen.
the actress is beautiful; she has a gorgeous body and face. her lips are full and pink, and she has these big, expressive eyes that appear to gleam. and you don't realize it, but she looks exactly like you.
the scene starts playing; in it, the girl is watching some movie with a guy that, apparently, is her roommate —at least that's what the title says.
"shhh..." he hushes you softly, his voice barely audible over the sounds emanating from his laptop's speakers. "just watch. don't overthink it."
"okay," you answer between gritted teeth.
your pretty eyes are fixed on the laptop while you try not to cringe at how bad the script and acting are, which is nearly impossible, to be honest. despite that, you keep watching in silence as the video plays, growing more flustered as the clock ticks.
you didn't know mouths could be used for that... interesting.
as opposed to you, rafe's pretty chill behind you, like he's unbothered by this whole situation —he's actually hard as fuck inside his pants, the thing is you haven't noticed. you wonder how he can act so unfazed, since you keep pushing your thighs together to try and soothe the throbbing sensation building in between them while you take in the lewd actions occurring on screen.
you weren't expecting your body to have this reaction, and now you don't know what to do to make it stop.
rafe soon becomes aware of the way you keep letting out soft sighs and squirming in his arms, plush ass rubbing against his cock every time you do it. it's a miracle he is still holding back, though he doesn't know how much time he will be able to.
he's not even paying attention to the video anymore, his entire focus put on you. he finally ventures to lean in, his hot breath grazing the shell of your ear as he whispers, "you know, i could do that to you..." his hand slowly slides to your plush thigh and he gives it a gentle squeeze.
his movements are measured and controlled not to scare you, but your breath hitches in your chest at his actions either way, body tensing up in his grasp. your brain is telling you to push him away, but the insistent throb in your sex doesn't like that idea, not one bit.
"you– you could?" you utter quietly, not taking your eyes away from the laptop.
rafe notices the uncertainty in your voice, but the way you haven't pushed him away yet emboldens him to continue, his large hand gradually sliding north.
"yeah, baby," he murmurs huskily against your ear, fingertips brushing along your inner thigh. "i could put my fingers inside you, just like he's doing to her..."
his words make you blush heavily as a little gasp is released from your pouty lips. "would it feel good?" you ask naively.
your eyes are transfixed in the sight of the guy on the screen pushing his fingers inside the girl's pussy. god, she seems like she's enjoying it so much... and you desperately want to feel like that too. you can't even bring yourself to care that it's your stepbrother offering to show you.
rafe's fingers creep higher and higher until they're barely brushing against your cotton panties. "yeah," he growls huskily against your ear, "it'd feel real good, sweetheart. i promise..."
you shudder, a sweet little mewl escaping your throat involuntarily. you can't help but blush at your own reaction, slightly embarrassed by it. you tear your eyes away from the screen, head falling back against his chest as you look up at him.
"it's throbbing, rafe..." you whine, self-control slipping from your hands. "can you make it better?"
rafe's fingers finally make contact with your wet underwear, pressing against your clit through the fabric. he rubs gentle circles around your sensitive nub, his other hand curling around your supple thigh to spread your legs wider.
"oh, baby, you're soaked through your panties..." he pants out.
your body literally melts into his touch like butter, perfectly shaped brows knitting together in a frown of pleasure. the girl in the video moans, and you do too, both sounds echoing in the silence of his room.
taking your moan as an invitation, rafe carefully hooks his fingers in the gusset of your panties to push them aside, exposing your sopping cunt to the cool air of his bedroom. then, he traces your wet slit slowly, leisurely, as if savoring the velvety feel of your skin.
"such a pretty little pussy..." he praises, eyes hungrily taking in the pink expanse of flesh.
you squirm and let out a soft whimper, biting your lip right after to avoid keep making noises; the last thing you want is to wake up your parents or wheezie. rafe notices your struggle and swiftly reaches up to cover your mouth with his free hand, muffling your sweet moans.
he gathers some of the wetness dripping out of your cunt before trailing his fingers all the way up to your clit, rubbing it gently. your eyes roll back, hips bucking up against his hand instinctively. the way your swollen bud throbs beneath his fingertips is going to make you mad. he begins to touch your clit in fast, tight circles, his other hand still holding your mouth shut to keep you quiet.
he leans in to whisper against your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine, "if you make a sound, i'll stop, got it?"
you nod obediently in response, making your best effort to comply; you don't want him to stop doing this, never. as a reward, rafe slides a thick finger down your slit and presses it against your clenched entry, steadily applying pressure until your tight muscles finally give in and allow his digit ingress.
"so fuckin' tight," he groans under his breath at the feeling of your narrow pussy engulfing his finger.
withdrawing his finger almost all the way out, he teases your entrance with the tip, making you tremble with anticipation before pushing it back in to the knuckle, his palm cupping your mound as he starts to thrust in a smooth, lazy rhythm. you swallow a whiny cry while your eyelids flutter shut, pretty face scrunched in a blissful expression.
rafe works his finger in and out of your slick pussy slowly, marveling at how your velvety walls flutter around the digit. he curls it inward, searching for that special spot that's guaranteed to drive you wild.
after a few experimental pokes, rafe's fingertip finally brushes over your g-spot, eliciting a muffled moan from under his palm. he smiles wickedly against your skin, and you shudder in his grasp, pleasure waves running through your body.
"that's it, sweetheart... feel good?" he croons softly, fingering you nice and deep.
you can't bring yourself to reply, the sensation of his large digit fucking your pussy, added to the constant rubbing of his palm against your puffy clit has your mind feeling all fuzzy. your body language is the only answer he needs, though.
rafe leans in to tenderly nip at your neck, his hot mouth latching onto your slender throat as he keeps pumping his finger steadily in and out of your dripping cunt. he knows you're close when he feels your inner muscles starting to clench erratically around his digit.
"rafe," you moan onto his palm as you feel this new, strange sensation building in your tummy, pussy tingling so nicely.
heaven help him. hearing you, his stepsister, moan his name like that makes rafe's hard dick throb almost painfully against his zipper.
and then it happens. the coil in your belly suddenly snaps and you have to bite onto your lip harshly to keep yourself from screaming as you cum for the very first time, on your stepbrother's hand. rafe continues to pump his finger in and out of your spasming cunt as you ride out your climax, wanting to prolong your pleasure.
when you finally come down from your high, you're all shaky and flustered in his arms, panting heavily to try and catch your breath. he has a satisfied smirk on his lips while he slowly withdraws his slick digit from your quivering hole to bring it up to his mouth and lick it clean, savoring your taste.
"did so well for me, baby," he coos as he uncovers your mouth, gently turning your head to the side to press a kiss to your swollen, red lips.
you return it sloppily, eyes fluttering shut in the process, and you sigh contently against his mouth. he can't help but rock his hips against your ass, rubbing his hard on against you.
"did i make you feel good?" he asks between little kisses, his breathing growing uneven. you nod in response. "yeah? then it's just fair you make me feel good too, sweetheart... wanna do that f'me?"
"yes," you whisper against his lips without even thinking, feeling him smirk into the kiss.
"such a good girl," he praises.
at some point, the porn video playing on his laptop ended, so he simply closes it up and tosses it away, the device landing somewhere on his king size bed. then, he turns you both around, until you are laying on the mattress and he is on top of you.
he is quick to undo his pants and yank them down, just enough to free his raging hard on, which bounces against his abs. let me tell you this, he's big, the tip pink and fat, already leaking precum.
suddenly, realization hits you. this is your stepbrother for god's sake, are you really gonna let him fuck you?
he notices how your body tenses up, one hand reaching to stroke your plush thigh reassuringly while the other wraps around his shaft, giving it a slow pump.
"hey, baby, relax..." he whispers gently, "i'll put just the tip in, yeah? there's nothing wrong with that."
you hesitate. his strong arms slide beneath your legs to tug you closer. then his cock brushes your pussy and you whimper. how are you supposed to say 'no' ?
it's just the tip.
"mhmm, 'kay" you end up agreeing with a little nod.
rafe flashes you a lopsided smirk, his hand gripping his cock again while the free one yanks your panties aside once more. keeping eye contact, he slowly glides the fat head of his dick up and down your drenched slit, coating it thoroughly in your arousal. you shudder as his tip eventually meets your puffy clit, the gentle rubbing sending shivers down your spine.
"rafe," you whimper.
rafe's eyelids droop, a low hum of pleasure escaping his throat as he continues to slowly drag the reddened head up and down your chubby pussy lips with squelching sounds. his breathing grows heavier the longer he teasingly rolls it against your slick folds, reveling in your breathy whimpers. he feels like he's about to burst already, pre-cum steadily leaking from the tip and onto your flesh.
he can't fucking take this anymore.
with a slow, gentle thrust, he sinks his cock into your warm, slippery pussy, just the head breaching your entrance before he pauses, savoring the initial penetration. his eyes lock onto yours, his pupils blown wide with lust.
"jesus, fuck." he grunts.
your cunt starts fluttering around him. he has barely slided the first two inches in, as he promised, but he's so thick that even that feels like a tight fit. you let out a moan, which mingles with a strained groan from rafe as your velvety walls clench tightly around his swollen cockhead.
"gonna– might just nut already, shit" rafe mutters through gritted teeth, fighting the urge to just drive forward and hilt himself deep. "so goddamn tight."
your hips buck unconsciously against his, making him slip in just a tad further —which nearly makes him lose all his self-control. somehow, he manages to keep his shit together, hips rocking slowly to thrust in and out of you while his veiny hand strokes the rest of his shaft.
you're totally enthralled by the sight, liquid heat pooling in your belly while you watch him use your body for his pleasure. he looks so good, you can't believe he's real. your chest fills with pride at the knowledge that you're making this greek god feel good.
this is the fastest rafe has ever cum, the movement of his hips becoming jerky and sloppy after a few minutes as he spills his sperm inside you. he's panting heavily, sweat beading on his brow while his fist squeezes the base of his cock tightly.
you're left wanting more when he slowly pulls out, pussy stretched out and leaking white spurts of cum. he gazes down at you with a smirk, lightly tapping the head of his dick against your swollen clit, which has you writhing beneath him.
"so fuckin' gorgeous stuffed full of my cum," he whispers, his cock smearing the sticky substance all over your slit. you mewl in response. "hmm, 'm sorry for making such a mess on your pretty pussy, sweetheart, lemme clean it up, yeah?"
you blush in response when he leans forward, throwing your creamy thighs over his broad shoulders, to put his mouth onto your sex. you almost cry at the heavenly feeling, his playful tongue delving between your folds to lap up his own release. he cleans you up thoroughly, only to mess you up again right after, his spit soaking your cunt as he makes you cum again.
after tonight, you are cancelling that date, that's for sure.
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ghostfacd · 1 year ago
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IN A WORLD FULL OF BOYS, HE’S A GENTLEMAN ! | TOM BLYTH
PAIRING. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader
SUMMARY. despite being in a world filled of childish boys, your boyfriend was definitely a gentleman, always putting you before him
AUTHORS NOTE. the third installment because we love tom blyth and yn avocot. I recommend reading part 1 and 2 for more context!
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tomblyth “babe, do you think we’re together in every universe?” is that even a question?
tagged @/ynuser
view all comments
ynuser stoppp i didn’t know youd actually take the question seriously
user1 get you a man like tom blyth bc oh my god
user2 idk what yn did to manifest him but i need her ways
user3 ugh idk what he’s doing with her lol he could do so much better
➥ user4 well someone had to say it..
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
You didn’t understand how some people on the internet can be so . . . mean. Although there have been countless of fans cheering you and Tom on, it didn’t make it any less hurtful that there were still a ton who weren’t scared to be open about how much your boyfriend could do better.
It’s ironic; you think. They’re claiming they’re looking out for Tom, yet totally disregarding him and his girlfriend as human beings? Those weren’t real fans.
The reason for them hating you so much? Just for simply being with Tom. Everybody wanted him, that was your crime.
Everytime you got lost in your thoughts about this topic, Tom knew. Boyfriend instincts, he called them, but really, he was just a caring and observant person.
You tried not to break down over it, you really did, but a girl could only go on for so long before it all bursts out. Luckily, Tom pulls you right in, telling you to let it all out.
Although the world was filled with childish and hurtful beings, Tom Blyth was still who he was, a gentleman, attending to your every needs.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
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tomblyth really dgaf if you like my girlfriend or not cause i do and that’s all that matters
view all comments
user5 im cryinf the polaroid he has of her
user6 YES REAL MEN STAND UP FOR THEIR GFS
user7 ALL THE PICS HE HAS OF HER 🥹🥹
tomblythswife oh to be yn avocot and be loved by tom blyth
rachelzegler tell ‘em 🙊
user8 she doesn’t even comment on the posts he makes abt her, so self centered lol
➥ ynuser I’m right next to him rn?? cant say the same thing about you “lol”
➥ user9 OH SHE ATE YOU UP @/user8
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tomblyth_daily here are some clips of tom talking about his relationship in his new interview! GET YOU A MAN THATS LIKE TOM BLYTH 🗣️🗣️🗣️
view all comments
user10 the way he’s so passionate when talking about her and being a good boyfriend, God I hate being single
user11 “they’re not even that cute” STFU AND GO WATCH THIS INTERVIEW CAUSE ??
user12 tom blyth said put aside your nonchalant attitudes, im looking at YOU MEN 🫵🫵
ilovetomblyth he’s so boyfriend it actually hurts
user13 yn must’ve saved a continent in her past life to be dating tom blyth omg
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ynuser girls, before you have a meltdown over a boy: think of what balleona laurent would do. kiss and manipulate coriolanus!
view all comments
tomblyth you kiss and manipulate me too
➥ ynuser you’re gonna get me CANCELLED
user14 literal unbothered icon i love her
user15 if i were her id post a tiktok with that audio “he chose me he don’t want you”
iloveyn SHES SO FUNNY
lionsgate us when behind the scenes photo of balleona 😻
➥ user16 lmao stop who’s the admin of lionsgate
user17 balleona is such a bad person but oh is she hot
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tomblyth she was like a shot of espresso
tagged @/ynuser
view all comments
ynuser i love u more than words can describe blyth
user18 ok who’s cutting onions
user19 GIRLS, GUYS, THEY THEMS, STOP SETTLING FOR BARE MINIMUM WHEN TOM BLYTH LITERALLY CALLED HIS GF A SHOT OF ESPRESSO, GIVES HER FLOWERS EVERYDAY, AND TALKS ABT HER ALL THE TIME IN HIS INTERVIEWS
➥ user20 YELL IT HARDER SISTER 👐👐👐
user21 this is so dark academica im inlove with u guys
user22 parentssss
rachelzegler my favorites
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ynuser SNOW LANDS ON TOP LOSERS
view all comments
tomblyth yn, i love you but
➥ user23 LMFAOO when he doesn’t finish his sentence
user24 the second pic thank u yn
joshandresrivera on top of u maybe
➥ user25 IM DYING OML
user26 thank you to lionsgate for casting the most hottest villain couple ever
5K notes · View notes
lewisvinga · 10 months ago
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roscoe’s daddy | lewis hamilton x fem! reader
summary; in which famous veterinarian, y/n, gets a world famous patient ( and his father is pretty cute himself )
fc; various girls on pinterest
warnings; ?
taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03
note; requested !i shall write as many lewis smaus as my heart desires bc there’s a huge lack of em here 😭 and there was lowk a lack of poc vet pics on pinterest sorry bookie 😣
masterlist !
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
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liked by roscoelovescoco, lewishamilton, and others !
yourusername: busy day in the office but look who came in for a checkup? 💗
tagged; roscoelovescoco
roscoelovescoco: feeling’s all’s better now’s !
username: i love when grown men pretend to be their dogs on instagram
username: y’all think lewis would use roscoe’s instagram account to rizz y/n up?
username: ROSCOEEEEEE?????
username: what an icon
username: roscoe😭💗💓💞
lewishamilton: y/n is a lovely doctor and made roscoe feel at ease! i really recommend her if you’re wondering about taking your pets to her :)
yourusername: awh lewis🥹🥹 you’re too kind 💗
username: lewrizz
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
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liked by roscoelovescoco, yourbestfriend, and others !
yourusername: mini photo dump of this past week + seeing a very special guest ( and his father ) again because someone got into a bag of chocolate ! 😁
tagged; roscoelovescoco, lewishamilton
roscoelovescoco: you’s the best’s 🐶💓 liked by yourusername !
username: i bet lewis made roscoe eat chocolate so he could see y/n again
username: what are yall on
yourbestfriend: i know you resisted the urge to call him roscoe’s daddy 🙈🙈
yourusername: I CANT STAND YOU😭😭😭
username: LMAOO NOT Y/B/F EXPOSING Y/N
username: no ur so real bc lewis IS daddy idk
lewishamilton: oh🤨
yourusername: lewishamilton look away now
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
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liked by lewishamilton, yourbestfriend, and others !
yourusername: guess i get to see my patient and his daddy all the time now, but hey! i’m definitely not complaining
tagged; lewishamilton, roscoelovescoco
lewishamilton: 😁😁😁
lewishamilton: guess i don’t have to make up excuses for roscoe to see you🤔
yourusername: knew there was a reason why you came to me saying roscoe ‘ate chocolate’ when he was magically healed otw from your house to my clinic🤔🤔
username: TOLD YALL HE WAS USING ROSCOE TO GET Y/N😭😭
username: LMAOOOO LEWIS IS SO😭😭
yourbestfriend: he’s a good man, y/n, a very good man
yourbestfriend: with money and a cute dog get that bag queen
yourusername: ??!-@;@2&:
username: no bc she’s so real, get that g wagon queen
username: lewis gonna end up w a house full of pets LMAO
username: WAIT WHATTT
username: roscoe ultimate wingman 🫡🫡🫡
username: imagine going to work only to see ur future bf there OOOU i should be a vet 😫
username: not only her future bf BUT LEWIS HAMILTON??
username: wait im living for this
2K notes · View notes
sungbeams · 1 month ago
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WIP DUMP
okay so this is lowkey inspired by @jayparked posting about her wips a bit ago (check them out here she's crazy talented and i can't wait to read them all) and since i've been struggling with writing recently i thought maybe sharing some of my wips could help. also biggest thanks to snail for helping me with the synopses for some of these and listening to me stress over the banners and everything
if you want to talk to me about any of them or wanna get tagged pls don't hesitate to send asks or comment on this post, i'd love to talk about them some more🥺❤️
MIDNIGHT IN MILAN — lhs !! POSTED !!
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⟡ ┆ featuring. heeseung x fem!reader
⟡ ┆ genre and tropes. MDNI 18+ ONLY, smut, established relationship, idol AU (both heeseung and yn)
⟡ ┆ warnings. semi-public sex, unprotected sex, mirror sex, mild choking, creampie, fingering, tiniest hint of degradation (he calls her a slut like once), one singular spank, some hair pulling, not really any aftercare
⟡ ┆ estimated word count. 6k
they say love makes you do stupid things...surely fucking your boyfriend in the bathroom at the prada after party when your relationship isn't even public and neither of you can afford a dating scandal isn't that stupid, right?
(i'm well aware the hype around tipsy heeseung has already died down but i started writing this immediately after the pics dropped and then got hit by writers block so i'm dedicated to finish this)
!! more under the cut !!
HE HATES ME, HE HATES ME NOT — psh
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⟡ ┆ featuring. sunghoon x fem!reader
⟡ ┆ genre and tropes. MDNI 18+ ONLY, smut, enemies to lovers, coworker AU, miscommunication (ikik), lowkey past fuckboi sunghoon
⟡ ┆ warnings. hate sex, semi-public sex (in an archive room?), protected and unprotected sex (there's several smut scenes), choking, spanking, degradation, praise kink, oral (m. and f. receiving), handjob, fingering, manhandling, overstimulation, dacryphilia, spit kink
⟡ ┆ estimated word count. 20k
park sunghoon hates you, and you hate him. it hadn't always been like that, when you first joined the company he works at he was friendly, a real gentleman, but over time of working together he turns cold, sometimes even downright mean, and you cannot for the life of you figure out what caused the sudden change in his behavior. however, things between you change yet again when you 'accidentally' get locked in your offices archive room.
HOME IS WHEREVER YOU ARE — lhs
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⟡ ┆ featuring. heeseung x fem!reader
⟡ ┆ genre and tropes. MDNI 18+ ONLY, smut, college!au, friends to lovers
⟡ ┆ warnings. there's some talks of depression as well as unhealthy coping mechanism so be aware of that pls, protected sex (be proud of me okay), oral (f. and m. receiving), vanilla af, neither of them are virgins or inexperienced but they just having sex for the first time together after realizing they've been in love with each other for years :')
⟡ ┆ estimated word count. 14k
"distance makes the heart grow fonder." is no longer just a cliche saying. heeseung decided to follow his dreams, but doing so lead him to a different city, leaving you behind. no other friends, no hobbies to keep yourself busy, and no motivation to keep going, the only thing keeping you on some sort of routine is attending your college classes that your parents force you to go to. just when you're about to officially quit and give up, heeseung shows up out of nowhere and manages to pull you out of your slump, upturning your whole friendship in the process.
NATURAL REMEDY — pjs
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⟡ ┆ featuring. jay x fem!reader
⟡ ┆ genre and tropes. MDNI 18+ ONLY, smut, physical therapist!reader, patient!jay, probably hipaa violations idk just don't do this irl basically
⟡ ┆ warnings. unprotected sex, oral (m. receiving), body worship (jay receiving bc he deserves someone to tell him or handsome he is), handjob, lots of oil, lowkey massage kink idek what to call this??
⟡ ┆ estimated word count. 5k
when jay hurts his knee while goofing around with his friends, his doctor recommends rest and physical therapy. lucky for him, your office is just around the corner, just that neither of you can make good on the ordered rest by doctor.
HEALTHY COMPETITION — lhs + sjy
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⟡ ┆ featuring. heeseung x fem!reader x jake
⟡ ┆ genre and tropes. MDNI 18+ ONLY, smut, college au, non-idol au, and they were roommates (oh my god they were roommates), no romance just fucking
⟡ ┆ warnings. basically no plot, threesome (duh), protected and unprotected sex, anal, double penetration, spanking, oral (m. and f. receiving), multiple rounds, manhandling, they make it a competition to see who can make her moan the loudest...
⟡ ┆ estimated word count. 9k
your roommates bickering should be nothing but white noise to you at this point, but when they both rope you into their little argument of who fucks better things take an interesting turn and a welcomed distraction from studying is provided.
SNEAKY LINK — sjy
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⟡ ┆ featuring. jake x fem!reader
⟡ ┆ genre and tropes. MDNI 18+ ONLY, smut, uni AU, frat boy jake (i'm sorry), friends with benefits but no one knows, alcohol consumption (they're not drunk and both consenting !!)
⟡ ┆ warnings. unprotected sex (it's a theme for me atp, don't do this irl pls), dry humping, fingering (it's jake come on now), kinda rushed sex ig, does it count as exhibitionism when they fuck in a spare bedroom idk, oral (f. receiving), breast play
⟡ ┆ estimated word count. 4k
frat parties usually weren't your thing, but when your best friend invites you (with the intention to be her wingwoman) you're not one to let her down. that is until you run into jake, whom you've been fooling around with without anyone knowing ...
© sungbeams — all rights reserved. i do not give permission to copy, repost, modify or translate my works.
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megamindsecretlair · 2 months ago
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Make Me Weak, Part 3
Pairing: Sex Therapist!Terry Richmond x Sub!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader
Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Cursing, mentions of depression, anxiety, and description of sexual issues. Power imbalance, Shy!reader. Dark!Terry. Dom!Terry, AU Terry, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some. I'm not a therapist and while I do not make light of therapy, this is purely for my own fun. Please seek real medical attention when necessary.
Summary: Your third session with Dr. Richmond gets more intense as he finally figures out how best to help you. He makes you dig deeper and uncover uncomfortable truths about yourself.
Word Count: 4,751k
Part 1 | Part 2 | AO3 Link
A/N: Alright now, I'm feeling a smidge bullied about this series. I am very thankful that ya'll love my series and while I know that it's out of love, I have a squirrel brain and bad noodle days. I would never want to put out a subpar fic. So the best way to encourage me is tell me what you liked about the fic! I have a praise kink, babes. I had TOO much fun writing this and you will not hurt my feelings if you don't want to read this one. However, I must tag to keep my taglist updated. Forgive me, my loves. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.
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Terry
Terry sat in the office breakroom stirring his tea while it steeped. He had your file spread out on the small round table as he went over it one last time before your appointment today. Though, it remained a mystery if you’d actually show.
For the past week, he had been pouring over your file backwards and forwards trying to glean what you weren’t saying. What you were holding yourself back from saying. He didn’t usually like to bad mouth his professional colleagues, but their notes were sloppy; and that was putting it mildly. 
Terry rolled the tea bag around the spoon to squeeze excess water out and then placed it on the napkin beside his mug. He sighed and stretched, stuck too long already in one position. 
It was clear that he couldn’t bully you into opening up. That wasn’t what you needed. You were already on the precipice. So much of your insights were spot on. You didn’t really need him, but you needed a guide. Someone to mentor you or mold you…no, that wasn’t it.
Terry scratched out the word on the notebook he started for you. It’s not molding you, you already have a strong foundation. You weren’t putty for someone to play with. You were more resilient, more open, more determined. 
So if not mold…Terry rubbed his short goatee and adjusted himself on the orange plastic chair. He thought a change of scenery would help give him an attack plan. A way to approach your next session, but he was at a loss. He was uncomfortable in these cheap ass seats, for starters. And the ideas weren’t coming in the quiet, rigidly styled break room.
It was like playing wack-a-mole with you. Every method he thought of, you shot down. Every time he thought he had a way into that pretty head of yours, you switched gears. It was challenging and frustrating and exciting as hell. 
His pen hovered over the notebook, full of crossed out words and methodologies he could try. And for the first time in a long while, his mind was blank. He had nothing. How did he combat nine therapists and a woman hell-bent on doing everything herself? 
“Hey, Dr. Richmond! Funny seeing you here!” Dr. Crawford waltzed into the breakroom and opened the nearest teak cabinet. He pulled down a mug that proclaimed him as the best dad ever and he hummed to himself as he poured himself some coffee. 
Terry eyed the older man with a bushy mustache but a “dad” demeanor. He treated everyone kindly and he came highly recommended for good reason. He seemed to zero in on everyone’s problems like he had a nose for it. 
“Dr. Crawford. I’d actually like your help with something,” Terry said.
“Me? Oh, cool. Cool,” Dr. Crawford paused as if he were a deer caught in headlights. Regaining himself, he patted down his army green button up and approached Terry’s table. 
Terry flipped your file closed and made more space for Dr. Crawford. The older man sat down with a quiet huff and sipped loudly at his coffee. Terry hoped his face didn’t reveal his disgust, but the man was a good guy. Just a bit odd. 
“What’s on your mind?” Dr. Crawford asked, placing his mug down on the table. 
Terry rubbed his hands while he thought over how to approach his question without coming off like a creep. His feelings for you were strictly professional. Okay, maybe not strictly but Crawford didn’t need to know that.
“I have a female patient, difficulty achieving climax, well-researched, with issues with control. We’ve had two sessions so far and usually I’d wait for more data, but at the moment, she’s been through nine therapists,” Terry said.
“Nine?” Dr. Crawford asked.
Terry smirked and nodded. “Nine. She’s committed to the process and seems willing to try new things, but I’m concerned that I can’t find my baseline with her. She’s been through so many therapists, she’s done copious research on her own, like…how do I compete with that?” Terry asked. 
Dr. Crawford took a few sips of his mug and stared out of the windows towards the cityscape. “Nine therapists, you say? And no one’s helped her?” Dr. Crawford’s bushy mustache moved with his frown. 
Terry fought off a smile. Dr. Crawford hadn’t even met you and he was reaching conclusions faster than Terry. Nine therapists was a lot for anyone to not find any kind of solution. 
“I ask probing questions, I’ve given her some things to think over, but it’s only going to work if she’s willing to do all of it,” he said. 
“My advice? Start from the beginning. Find a way for her to trust you. If she’s been through nine therapists, I imagine they’ve done everything under the sun already. And if she’s as well-read as you say, you better come up with something better before she’s on to number eleven,” Dr. Crawford said. 
Terry chuckled. “Right, because she’s done it all, said it all…”
“And yet no one’s gotten to the core of the issue. You can talk solutions all day long but if you don’t know what the hell you’re treating, you’re just wasting her time,” Dr. Crawford said and knocked on the table. “It’s not competing against the others. It’s erasing them completely.”
Terry mulled that over as he took some notes. He liked that. It wasn’t molding you, more like shaping you. Stripping away all the misconceptions and untruths and whatever it was that you’ve read thus far. Everything your previous therapists had tried. His job was to uncover who you truly were.
Reveal…uncover…sculpt…that was it. He was merely helping you sculpt the woman begging to be let out. You were a sexual goddess trapped in marble. You were already there, just unpolished. He had to chisel his way there, not jackhammer it. You didn’t need kid gloves but you needed more finesse. 
Terry smirked as his pen scratched against his notepad, jotting down idea after idea. He hoped you showed. He hoped you took a chance on him and let him help you. Let him be your tenth and final therapist. And then release you to whatever bum caught your eye. 
“This is incredibly helpful, thank you Dr. Crawford,” Terry said. He threw away his trash and then gathered his tea, your file, and your notebook. 
Dr. Crawford’s shoulders shook with silent laughter, his neck turning cherry red. “Oh, I’m sure you would’ve gotten there without me,” he said with a wave. 
“I’m sure I wouldn’t have. See you around,” Terry said, tapping Dr. Crawford on the back. Talking to him reminded Terry of his own father. A tall, imposing man who was larger than life yet nothing but a gentle giant. 
Terry exited the break room and steamrolled down the bland, drab hallway towards his office. His mind filled with more ideas than he knew what to do with. New things to try. New things to explore. If you let him, he would show you exactly what you needed. 
He rounded the corner in time to see you step back from his office door. He stopped in his tracks and watched you for a moment, watched your unguarded expression as you hovered. You were dressed in dark jeans and a red sweatshirt, a small purse over your shoulder, and you clutched your journal against your chest. Your hair was neatly styled and it fit you. 
Many expressions played across your sweet face. You had a tilt to your head and a lilt to your mouth. He would pay top dollar to know what you were thinking. What mental battle you waged inside. Or whether or not you’d knock on the door.
&&&
You
You sighed and rubbed your head. You had been debating if you would attend today’s appointment or not. You felt less than grown up storming out of his office. He must’ve thought you were the biggest goof in the world. 
You fought yourself the entire ride over, constantly looking at every corner as an opportunity to escape. To flee. But you kept passing it up because each corner also tasted terribly like defeat. 
In two sessions, Dr. Richmond had you re-thinking everything. Besides being drop dead gorgeous, he had a big brain to back it up. And damn if it wasn’t working. You wanted more. You wanted to explore everything about yourself. 
Living in your body was painful. But god, you felt so alive. The numbness receded with each passing day as you practiced. You needed to see it through. So with a rumbling gut and sweaty palms, you forced yourself to stay on the road and attend your appointment.
You sighed. This was going to be fucking painful. You raised your hand to knock when soft footfalls sounded behind you.
“No need,” Dr. Richmond said. 
You turned to your right to see him come to a complete stop in front of you. Sugar Honey Iced Tea, he was dreamy. He wore a tan colored long sleeved T-shirt and dark navy pants. The sleeves were rolled on his forearm, veins poking out in his deep almond skin, peeks of tattoos, and he held a mug in his hand. His other hand clutched a notebook and a thick file. Your file. 
You looked from it to his hands to his forearms. Your eyes pinged everywhere on him but his face. Dr. Richmond cleared his throat and tilted his head.
You pinched your lips together and smiled, your eyes crinkling at being caught staring. “Dr. Richmond, great - uh - good to see you,” you said. God, if you listening, strike now, please. Please. Please? 
“I’m glad you’re here. I feared I would’ve been alone for the next hour,” he said. 
You sighed and nodded. “Yeah, I was definitely debating. But I said I was committed, and I meant it,” you said. 
Dr. Richmond nodded and then waved his hand forward. You opened the door and held it open for him to enter behind you. You practically skipped to the couch and stood awkwardly in front of it. You held onto your journal but threw your purse on the coffee table.
You watched as Dr. Richmond deposited the mug, notebook, and your file on his desk. You watched the long length of his body, drooling at the fluid way he moved. He must live in the gym or something.
His shirt hinted at a rock hard body, but you wanted to see more. And that was totally the wrong thing to think about your sex therapist. You huffed and looked away from him, up towards the ceiling. 
There should be a law against attractive authority figures. He should be banned from the profession. Retire and go on somewhere. 
The door closed behind you and you jumped. “Would you like it open?” Dr. Richmond asked.
“Nope, I’m good,” you said. You turned to him and gave him a wide smile. “I’m just nervous.”
Dr. Richmond smiled and put his hand in his pocket. “There’s no reason to be nervous. You’re in charge here, remember that,” he said.
You nodded and watched as he crossed the room. Instead of going towards his chair, he perched next to the desk and faced you. “Before we get started, I want to clear the air. I didn’t mean to push you so hard. I approached our session wrong and I apologize,” he said. 
“In what way?” You asked. 
“I assumed that with so many therapists that you didn’t need the song and dance. That you didn’t need the introductory session,” he said.
“No, that was right. I need a push. I know I have more issues to work through than I thought. And so far, everyone’s just been coddling me. Treating me like what I’m feeling is in my head. And I spend all my life in this motherfucker. I know it’s not in my head. Sorry for saying motherfucker,” you said and smirked. 
Dr. Richmond rocked back on his heels and matched your smirk. He nodded his head. “Then we can both move forward together,” he said. He moved around his desk and then sat in his high backed chair. He pulled the mug towards him and blew on the steaming mug. 
His lips should not look so damn kissable. Lush and pink, he had big sexy lips that just made you want to kiss forever. He was a work of art made real. He took a sip from his cup and then pulled the notebook and your file closer. 
“Have you been keeping up with your homework?” He asked.
You nodded. “Yup. Living in my body. Feeling my feelings. Admiring myself,” you said. You finally felt calm enough to sit down on the couch. You stared at the Lego set in the zen garden and shook your head. 
“And?” He asked.
You rolled your eyes and opened your journal and flipped to the pre-appointment jitters. You listed main points that you didn’t mind sharing with him. You told him all about what experiencing living your body felt like. 
It was scary and there were times that you slipped back into your head without realizing it. Zoning back in was always painful, like stepping into the sun after sitting for a three hour movie. You talked about how strange it was to feel like you had been asleep all this time, pushing everything to the back of your mind.
Later, later, another time, when you weren’t so busy. But you were always busy. Always running and moving and thinking and stressing. 
“That must be exhausting,” he chimed in. 
“You have no idea,” you said. Your shoulders dropped from around your shoulders and you mentally groaned. This was going to turn into your Sisyphus. You were going to kick that healing rock up the mountain and just when you thought you’d finally make it, you’d just go tumbling back down. Hope, you fickle bitch. 
You and hope had a toxic codependent relationship. It didn’t really fuck with you like that, but you kept letting it back in your heart. 
“Where do you think this need to cut yourself down before someone else does come from?” Dr. Richmond asked.
You fanned yourself and gaped at him. “Buy me dinner first at least, Dr. Richmond,” you said. You shared a laugh with him and shook your head. “So I wouldn’t be disappointed with my parents when they didn’t give me the reaction I wanted for my accomplishments.” 
Dr. Richmond leaned forward, his eyebrow shooting up above the golden rim of his glasses. “You really do over-analyze yourself,” he said.
You shrugged. “It’s a compulsion. If I don’t, the world burns,” you said softly. Your eyes pricked with tears but you forced yourself to meet his gaze. You weren’t going to shy from this. You weren’t going to disappear into your mind. 
Dr. Richmond took another sip of his mug but to his credit, he didn’t write anything down. That would have somehow been embarrassing. You waited while he sat there and you busied yourself with picking at your nails. 
“We need a fresh start,” Dr. Richmond said. He picked up your file and then opened a drawer. He dropped the folder and the metal popped with the weight. He closed the drawer and then faced you. 
“I’m not your tenth therapist. I’m your first. If you let me, I’m going to help you achieve what you want. You’re going to find sexual satisfaction whenever you want. Whether that’s alone or with a partner,” he said. 
“That’s what I want,” you said.
He nodded and then gripped his mug but he didn’t bring it to his lips. “You said if you didn’t over-analyze yourself, the world would burn. Do you believe the world will literally burn or do you just think something bad will happen?” 
You rubbed your sweaty palms on your jeans and scooted forward on the couch. “Rationally, I know that’s impossible. But irrationally? I’ve never been brave enough to test it,” you said. 
Your mind spun at a thousand hertz per second. It never shut up. Never stopped rolling. Never stopped running. Never stopped with the constant chatter in your mind. You didn’t know what would happen if you had a calm mind. The only time you got some semblance of relief was when you were high.
And even then, your mind was still running in the background. Popping up with new tabs constantly. Because if the chatter stopped, you’d have to face the silence. And you just didn’t know how you’d act. Or if the world would burn. All you knew was that your mind kept spinning and so did the world. 
“Tell me about how you were treated as a teen. How did your parents treat you and how did your peers at school treat you?” He asked.
You giggled. “Okay, if not dinner, then ice cream? I’m a simple cookies n’ cream girly,” you said. 
Dr. Richmond chuckled. “Jokes are just a way to procrastinate,” he said. Goodness that voice. That subtle twang in the back of his throat that hinted of a Southern background. 
You huffed and leaned back on the couch. No one said healing was easy. So you told him. You told him about your over-analytical helicopter parents who were so fearful of something happening to you that they placed you in an invisible bubble. 
They had to know where you were at all times, they had to know your friend’s parents and have them on speed dial, they asked after your every move, and you asked permission before even thinking about going in the fridge. 
You had to become hypervigilant and pick up on cues that your mother was going to grow a second head from all her yelling. You never knew when she would give you a kiss on the cheek or yell at you for no reason. You had to scan her face for microexpressions, trying to gauge which way the wind would blow with her. 
As for your friends…they were cool for what you had at the time. You were no longer friends with them as they’d moved on and left you in the dust. But at the time, any little weird thing you did they poked fun at. And if it wasn’t them, it was the boys in your class. As if you couldn’t step a toe out of line without someone pointing it out for everyone to hear. 
If you jumped onto a chair, then people would turn and stare. If you waved your hands, there were three people there to call you weird. And if you joked and sung badly on purpose, people thought you were serious and made fun of you for being tone deaf.
You tried on plenty of personalities throughout the years, trying to mix and match what people expected of you. You eventually grew comfortable with being weird but that hypervigilance never left you. 
“Would you say you feel safe to be yourself at all?” Dr. Richmond asked. 
You twisted your lips and shook your head. “I wouldn’t know what that is. My mom read my diary once and I never wrote anything down ever again. Until you gave me my homework,” you said. 
&&&
Terry 
You just…listened so well. He knew now that it was a product of your upbringing, being the child who was only seen and never heard. Marching to hundreds of orders given by your overbearing mother and absent in spirit father. 
Add onto that that your peers at school treated you as if there was something wrong with you, it was impossible for you to become comfortable. To achieve safety of mind and body. Who could explore themselves like that? When so many conspired to convince you that you weren’t a person deserving of grace? 
Terry took a sip of his mug and watched you deflate further. Like every truth you kept trapped inside was what kept you animated and full. Without it… 
Terry stood up and rounded his desk, somehow needing the boundary out of the way. Maybe he’d sit in the other chair opposite the table from you from now on. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. 
Fuck. You never even had a chance. He prayed that you hadn’t been abused or hurt by anyone ever. It was a miracle that you didn’t have a string of abusive ex-boyfriends or a thicker medical file in a hospital somewhere. Sweet, open women like you deserved to be cared for. Protected. 
You were a sub in more ways that you realized. And his fondness for you, his attraction, only grew with each session. How? How would he let you go when you graduated from his help? 
“I’m going to ask you a question and I want you to really think before you answer,” he said. He replaced his glasses on his face and tilted his head forward to emphasize his point. This was a hard question but it needed to be asked. 
You leaned forward, clutched your journal to your chest, and pinched your lips. But you nodded and mimed zipping your mouth. 
“Who said they were right?” He asked.
He watched as your face smoothed out to an adorable blank. Your mouth flattened as you looked at him. Again, he wished more than anything to know what you were thinking. What questions raced in your mind. 
He grew concerned when you continued to stare without saying a word. But he didn’t interrupt. He wanted to see where you took it. What you would do. So as you stared, he stared. 
He took in your sweet, rounded features. Your adorably styled hair. The red in your sweatshirt highlighted your beautiful brown skin. You finally took a deep breath and then stared up at the ceiling.
“In all my life, no one has ever asked me that,” you said. You brought your hands to your eyes and swiped at them. You needed to let them fall but he wasn’t going to push you on that right now. 
You stood up and then rubbed your forehead as you paced back and forth. He continued to watch you self-soothe right before his eyes. He wondered if you were conscious of that too. Did you miss anything? 
“And…people just accept it when everyone seems to agree that you’re uncool or weird or whatever, ‘cause of what you said about the group thing. People want to fit in and belong but…no one died and made them the fucking authority on what’s cool. No one put them in charge and they’re not the popular police,” you said as you continued to pace like a ping pong ball. 
“Misery loves company. Hurt people hurt people. However you wanna spin it, nothing brings people closer together than hating the same thing or same person. There’s a sense of validation when people agree with you. And people think mob mentality only applies to bad situations, but it applies everywhere. Because there’s safety in numbers, people would rather go with the flow than be singled out.” 
You threw up your hands. “Why didn’t I learn this years ago? And now I just feel stupid for it never even occurred to me that they weren’t right,” you said. You sat down on the couch with a huff. 
Terry put his hands in his pockets and smirked. He glanced at the clock. He didn’t have you for much longer. He flexed his jaw at the thought. What he wouldn’t give. 
“You shouldn’t feel stupid. Think about what kind of environment you were raised in and continue to live in. You had to be aware to avoid danger. To avoid being singled out. You had to adapt to survive. That takes courage and bravery. You did what you had to do to survive and that’s all anyone is doing.
“But you don’t have to just survive anymore. You get to choose. You get to choose right here and now to live. Live with your whole body because you are here, you are perceivable, you matter, and you can take up space and the world will be fine,” he said. 
Tears swimmed in your eyes and you stood up to face away from him. You faced the window and your shoulders shook. You gripped yourself in a low hug, not making a single sound. 
Terry moved to his desk to grab the box of tissues silently. He made noise so that you knew he was approaching and he placed the box on the end table under the window. You turned your body from him but grabbed a tissue and swiped at your eyes. 
The only sounds he heard was the tick of the clock on the wall and your random sniffles. The shake in your shoulders subsided bit by bit until you looked up at the ceiling. 
Terry remained close by so that you knew you weren’t alone.
&&&
You
Fuck, you felt like a fucking idiot. All these years. Nine fucking therapists. Shitty boyfriend after shitty boyfriend. Your mother’s latest tirade and your father’s empty shrug. All for this man to ask you the one question that shook you to your core. 
Who said they were right? Who said? Who gave them the right to make you think that there was something wrong with you? That your very existence was a plight on the world and it’d be better if you weren’t there? 
Who fucking said? 
It was all so simple and yet complicated. You hung your sense of safety on the need to “do the right thing at the right time”. If you did something “normal”, then no one could make fun of you, and you passed through another day fooling everyone with your disguise. 
And fuck! Wasn’t that freeing? Your chest ached and your eyes pricked with unshed tears, but it was already embarrassing that Dr. Richmond witnessed you crying. You liked to reserve that for sappy, cheesy romance movies on Netflix. 
Your heart felt heavy, weighing down your chest to a near uncomfortable level. You knew you needed to release all of it but not now. Not after only three sessions with this man. 
Who was he? Why was he like this? Where the fuck did he come from? 
“I see why they pay you the big bucks now,” you said, wiping at a tear that dared escape your eye. And you had a random ache in your belly? Feelings were weird. And sticky. Like constantly stepping on glue traps plastered all over the kitchen floor. 
“Why did you place so much bearing on their opinions?” Dr. Richmond asked. You liked that he had stayed close by while you broke apart. It was so rare that you did it in front of others. You were glad that he wasn’t the hugging type. Or the one who filled the room with hot air about how much it was needed and you should let go. 
“Because I don’t want to be alone forever. I want proof that I mattered to someone,” you whispered. You sniffled but held back the tears. You blinked a few times and held firm. Later.
“How can you matter to anyone if you don’t matter to yourself?” Dr. Richmond asked softly. 
The clock ticked in the background and you glanced at the clock. You were a little over your session and you were thankful that the next person hadn’t barged in. You wiped your face once more and then turned to Dr. Richmond.
He stood with his hands in his pockets and a kind smile on his face. His biggest strength was that he was unassuming despite his size. He knew when to use it to his advantage and when to switch it off. He was in tune with those around him and it was rare to find a man with a calming aura. 
“I matter to myself but probably not as much as I think,” you said. “I’ll work on that too.” 
Dr. Richmond nodded. “Your homework is to practice loving yourself. Speak kind words, think nice things about yourself, and remember that your brain is a big ass liar,” he said.
You giggled and ducked your head. “Alright, alright. I’ll be nicer to myself. You missed your calling as a mind reader, Dr. Richmond,” you said. You grabbed your journal and purse from the couch and coffee table and then exited the room, feeling way lighter than when you went in.
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Wheww! Need some more? The Secret Terry Richmond Files | Part 1 | Part 2
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linskywords · 19 days ago
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2024 HRPF recs
As has become my wont, I spent the last few weeks trying to catch up on some of the new fics in the hockey RPF tag that I missed over the course of the year. I definitely didn't get to everything, or even all of the most popular ones; there may also be a bias towards shorter fics here, as I was trying to get through a lot. 😅 But I hope you enjoy, and possibly find a gem or two that you missed!
First, some general favorites:
Scoring Effects by @helenish (McDrai, 30K): Ah, Helenish. A goddess among us. I love a good mistaken identity story, and this is a GREAT mistaken identity story.
barons by dilangley (MattDrai, 43K): Future fic in which Houston gets its own expansion team, Matthew coaches it, and Leon and Trevor Zegras play on it. Gorgeously done. The Trevor POV section broke me a bit, but it was worth it.
Living Things by @makeit-takeit (TK/Patty, 115K so far): I am so deeply invested in this series. It's very real and vivid-feeling future fic that does an amazingly thoughtful job exploring the NHL wife-and-kids pipeline and what happens when that doesn't fit you as well as you thought it would. The stories that are written so far feel nicely complete, but if you'd rather hold out for the full HEA, you can check out her Wild Ice for a different highlight from the past year.
put the stars in our eyes by @notthequiettype (McDrai, 17K): the McWedding story that I wish I had written. I thought it was going to destroy me, and instead it left me all warm and fuzzy.
Lost and Found by angry_geno_is_score (MattDrai, 2K): angry_geno_is_score had so much to choose from this year, as always, and I loved this as a microcosm of the hurt/comfort they do so well. If you like it, you know where to find more from them!
Next, we move to the irresistible new Sharks babies. I'm not sure I can oversell how hot these three stories managed to be:
come on (leave me breathless) by countthestars @moondoggiestyle (Will/Mack, 10K): I've already talked about how much I loved this one. There can never be too many stories of one player catching the other getting off in the shower, especially if they're as hot as this.
revising the shoreline by ohyellowbird @teex (Will/Mack, 6K): another super well done exploring-their-sexuality-while-not-talking-about-it story, aka my kryptonite.
teamwork makes the dreamwork by canary @bigdogenergy (Will/Mack and Will/Mack/Ryan Leonard, 19K): I'm sure a lot of you have already read this in the last week or so, but I couldn't not recommend it. Mack goes into heat and Will needs an alpha to help him out. Who to call but the ex?
And then we enter the realm of vaguely devastating but gorgeously written JDTZ trade fics:
home by now by donderwolk @donderwolkenblog (Jamie/Trevor, 6K): The moment they found out about the trade, and a little bit after. Brilliant, impeccable, ruinous.
heat check by jolach @hyggles (Jamie/Trevor and also Carts/Richie, 4K): Outsider perspective on Jamie and especially Trevor as they deal with the aftermath of the trade, through the eyes of Mike Richards, who may have some experience in the area. I don't know how anyone writes this well, honestly.
Finally, one of my favorite things about reading through the past year's fics is finding a prolific new author I love who I had totally missed in my year of mostly reading people I'm already subscribed to. This year it was unsay (@tungpin). They seem to have started writing HRPF this year, and they tend toward the kind of complicated sometimes-ambiguous stories that I never manage to write but love to read. Here are a few of my favorites of theirs from this year:
malt (MattDrai, 4K): Leon meets Sasha Barkov and has feelings about how he wants to be more serious than Matthew does (OR DOES HE).
accessory to the rockstar (McDrai, 5K): once again we have Leon having thoughts about how he feels more than the person he's into, this time about Connor. Bittersweet and lovely.
the care and keeping (Jamie/Trevor, 12K): in which Trevor's friends get on Jamie's case about neglecting him post-trade, and Jamie does something about it.
That's it from me, at least for now! I know there were many excellent stories this year I didn't get to, especially the long ones that I just didn't commit to while reading for this list. Perhaps this is the year I do what I've been telling myself to do for the past two years and keep track of what I read and love throughout the year. We can only dream. 😅
Happy reading!!
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zorosnavigator · 2 months ago
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Timebomb fics rec
A lot of timebomb fics are hiding through a lot of CaitVi/JayVik tagged works on ao3 (while many are also CV orJV centric) so i made this rec post for everyone who dont want to spent 1 hour scrolling or missing some of them bc you're filtering other ships!! (sorry for the short summaries/ i didnt write my thoughts as thoughtfully as i would have liked because.yk.time and all. update chapter count/add of new fics every week)
AU/crossovers fics
Je t'aime (Je t'attends) 3 chapter, WIP.
Hunger games x Timebomb/Arcane, the way the system of the games from the og novels are mixed in the Arcane universe is really masterful, the writer dont lose too much time explaining it but you understand the dynamics of the 2 cities and the characters perfectly anyway.
Where would you be now ? by enaven 5/6 chapters, WIP.
family/modern AU, timebomb feels, Ekko and Jinx are Isha's parents, CaitVi are just silly aunts and i'll never stop recommending this fic
you're the best thing to ever happen to me (but also the worst thing to ever happen to me) by grey_toiletpaper ( @greytoiletpaper ) 3/8 chapters, WIP. Rated T.
Timebomb inspired by 10 things i hate about you.
We Moved Into a Real House (a Wild Field Behind it) by smokesatellite 3/10 chapters. WIP. Rated T.
Modern AU, Timebomb roommates/friends to lovers, Isha is a foster kid...you know where this is going .. (Ekko as a nurse is not something i expected but its surprisingly good. Also the in law feud between Jinx and Cait is very funny)
s1 fics
Silco is less of an asshole
The Heart of Zaun by 1ts_Br1tney_B1tch 8/ chapters. WIP.
or: Silco try to rally the Firelights to his cause (in this case, Zaun - he's much more involved in doing better for his city than in the show) but of course they're bound to have some..tension between them, since they hate him - and Shimmer. (it has the good parent Silco tag so i'd say that all in all, this Silco is a little less...Silco than in Arcane, but manage to keep some of the bite he has in canon...) i only read 2 chapters, and what i can say is that it does a good job with the general cast, the interactions between Silco/Ekko-Firelights are believable, i think the one thing that could have weird me out is the way Silco is said to be 'proud' of the Firelights in the summary (for me 'pride' is something he'd reserve for Jinx yk?? anyway i stop the rambling) . The Timebomb relationship has more or less the same push and pull as in the show, with Ekko thinking about the girl Jinx used to be/ Ekko being a link to the past before Jinx and all that entail...so yeah, i'm loving it!
Powder doesnt become Jinx
The Alpha Command by typewriter_in_galaxy 13 chapters. WIP. Rated E.
ABO/Reverse AU where Powder doesnt become Jinx and is raised by Viktor, Ekko is taken in by Silco. btw i dont read a lot of abo fic (im very nickpick) but this one does every characters justice, and actually dwelve in depth in the abo universe.. (everything by typewriter is good to be honest, but my favorite thing is how they write Powder, who even when she doesnt become Jinx, is still shaped by a very violent world/trauma and it shows through her mental health issues and very, very low self worth/need to prove herself. )
everything's better with a friend by typerwriter_in_galaxy 7chapters. Completed. Rated E.
Timebomb centric rewrite of Arcane, Jinx is Powder, she doesnt fall under Silco's hand (or in his arms precisely), Ekko is Ekko, and 1, i need to hug Powder, 2 she deserves the world and 3 the characterization of everyone, everyone is so brillantly written and the timebomb relationship (damn even the CaitVi one too) oh, the timebomb of it all... they feel so, so real and it hurts, Powder's insecurities, her mental illness, her guilt, her need to prove herself but in same time she doesnt feel herself worth of anything (or anyone) good... just.read it. read it, because i just did, after like 2 years of not doing that and. im like mad bc why didnt i??? but in same time so grateful to just discover it now, taking my sweet little time reading it; it rewinded my brain its amazing, (like this work in another fandom, the first time i read this rebelcaptain's fic A Love song by skitzofreak - did i just linked it for you to read even tho its a timebomb rec post??? yes. yes i did. thats how much i love, adore, worship this one guys - so everything's better made me think a lot of this TB fic, and also of RC (the abandonment issues, thinking that you have to leave first before everyone leave you, Jyn and Powder damn).
Shattered Web by Firewolf2132 1 chapter. WIP. Rated M.
you know how everyone make the comparaison between Ekko and Miles?? well, the author found a way for Ekko transform into a spiderman that feels right in the arcane verse (end of act1) and damn its so good. Ekko slowly morphing and gaining his powers while everyone still have some focus on them (mostly Powder), but it still manages to keep the suspense of the fate of other characters. fabulous. author note: [I have seen so many comparisons between Ekko and Miles and a lot of fanart. So it felt that I had to do this. I can't promise future chapters right now (busy), but I am eager to see if this inspires any stories with a similar premise.]
S2 fanfics
fics covering Timebomb moments between ep 8 Ekko saving her /they painted each other and ep9
Go Back For Her by A_Lily_In_The_Moonlight 3/3 chapters. Completed. Rated E.
Ekko's pov -i only read 1 chapter - we see his thought's process on his relationship with Powder AU/ Jinx, and how he came to the conclusion he must go back to her. the moment where he help Jinx with his Z-drive comes a little differently than in ep8 (well, the aftermath) aaand another fic where Jinx's grief over Isha's death shatters me, the pain and the self loathing/blaming from Jinx really devastating.
I dont believe in God, but i believe you're my savior by mquesterminds One shot. Rated T
[summary: every time Ekko has to rewind time to stop Jinx it cuts to a different moment from throughout their love story because I'm allergic to happiness the moments covering their shared past really make their present 10 times sadder.]
I'm sure we're taller in another dimension by hallwayheart One shot. Rated M. i have nothing to say because i'm still processing what i just read.ty.
Fires That Were Set by ilophilia ( @ilophilia on tumblr) 1 chapter. WIP.
the conversation after Ekko helped Jinx in episode 8. Loved the banter, the emotions (the grief is there and its important to feel it but damn i want to hug them so bad). They tell each other what happened when Ekko was gone, and you feel the distance/the closeness, near intimacy building again and its beautiful..
Hope is a winged beast by Grey_ Unicorn 4 chapters. WIP. Rated E.
prepare you tissues because i was myself not ready for chapter 3 and the emotional wreck of Jinx processing her grief. but here we are.
fics from AU Powder pov/exchange between Jinx and AU Powder
what we left behind by re_dragon_rising 3/3 chapters. Completed. Rated T.
Powder traverses to the og arcane universe 1 year after Ekko's visit. (the insight into her life after Ekko leaves is wholesome and also give the reader a glimpse of the Mylo/Claggor/Powder siblings dynamics + the impact of Vi's death on them. really great. a little sad too.)
The other Ekko by GrammarThyEnemy Oneshot. General audience.
Powder knows this Ekko is not her Ekko.
memento vivere by fuwaaa 1/2. WIP. General audience.
covering the AU episode, Powder knows something's up with Ekko.
See Ya On The Other Side by moth_dust 3/5 chapters, WIP. Rated T.
Powder also travel to the og universe.
these forgotten faces by whippindippin ( @whippindippin on tumblr too!) 6 chapters, WIP. Rated T.
Jinx and Powder body swap and its both the worst and best thing that could ever happen to either of them. great reading and their reaction on point.
Isha is alive
Astrantia by AelinCreativ ( @aelincreativ they're on tumblr too!) 5 chapters, WIP. Rated T.
canon divergence where Ekko saves Isha. a lot of angst. but also a lot of happiness. so we can cry while smiling along with them. great. ty author!!
Ankle-Biter by darkfire1220 8/9 chapters, WIP. Rated M.
Isha is Jinx's biological daughter, Silco is a not so bad (grand) father, and their mother/daughter bond is one a the greatest thing ever. (very slowburn timebomb). Also Vi. i love you Vi.
post s2
we made our peace with weariness (and let it be) by The_FlamingTiger 3/3 chapters. Completed. Rated M.
Ekko and Jinx reconnect in Bilgewater..(and Jinx goes to therapy. that too. its nice)
I don't believe in God (But I believe that you're my savior) by yeonatsu Oneshot, general audience.
Ekko is mourning.
this hunger for love won’t disappear by Amuria Oneshot, rated T.
Months after the battle for Piltover, Ekko begins to dream of Powder. He thinks it’s his grief playing tricks on him. She has different theory.
Francesca (Do You Think I'd Give Up?) by PoetProlific 2 chapters. WIP.
Ekko tries searching for Jinx...(with the help of Caitlyn, yep. and its well done, because I think Cait would help, for Vi. And i love how Ekko-Cait's dynamics might evolve because of this..)
So I met him there and told him I believe by ijustwanttoreadinpeace 3 chapters, WIP. Rated T.
Jinx begins a new life in Bilgewater but is forced to come back... (edit: be warned, this is now an orphan account so idk if there will be more chapters.)
all the 6 timebomb one shot by atabex (the other fics are not timebomb) they're all rated E and oh boy is it worth it. most of these oneshot are gut wrenching and do smut + characters so well... the most recent one is just Ekko and AU Powder ahem doing the boombayah on the rooftop, but yk, with bits of sad and tragedy here and there.
i'm a little ashamed i'm only adding it now but every TB os fics by @shroomystar is 🤌 nothing else to add because each one of them are good. so. (if you want the explicit one-shots it's here and if you prefer without, it's here )
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uniquethingtastemaker · 1 month ago
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Vil x Reader -- Body Swap Pt 1
Summary: You and Vil swap bodies near the beginning of VDC.
Word Count: 4k+
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Character Arcs
Author's Note: Merry Christmas. There's more to come. This is what I have so far. It's great. Buckle up and good luck. I'm not going to give you any other context. You're welcome
Tags: @solxamber @marsinrain
You open your eyes to a dark room. You feel strangely alert. There’s no grogginess or desire to stay in bed. It’s unnatural. What time is it? You fumble around the nightstand, searching for your phone.
You click it on. It blinds you for a moment and you squint. 4:01 am, it reads. It’s not your lock screen though. The background is a dark purple with a familiar dripping red apple in the center. It’s framed in swirling gold. It’s a variation of the Pomefiore crest. This has to be Vil’s. Who else would have this lock screen? But why is it in your room? Did he leave it when he checked everyone’s rooms? It seems unlikely given his personality. Either way, you need to give it back. He’ll wake up in a frenzy if you don’t do it now. You’d rather deal with a half asleep and grumbly Vil than an awake and frantic one. 
You sit up and place your feet on the floor. There’s a pair of plush and cozy slippers underneath your feet… You don’t have luxurious slippers. You furrow your brow. Something’s off. 
Nonetheless, you slip on the comfy shoes and shuffle to the light switch. You flick it on. 
The first thing you notice is the mirror. Vil’s reflection stares back at you. You raise your eyebrows. It copies you. You glance at your body. You’re wearing the dorm leader’s expensive silk pajamas. You pinch yourself and wince in pain. This is real. You’ve somehow swapped bodies with the Queen of Pomefiore. You have to solve this.
You spin around on your heels and stride out the door. Your slippers pad down the hall. You knock on a specific door and wait. It doesn’t take long for the occupant to answer.
“Roi de Poison?” Rook questions, his voice still rough from sleep.
“Let me in,” you command.
The vice leader steps aside as you to brush past. He turns on the light, closing the door. 
“You know I’m not Vil,” you state, turning around. 
“Oui,” he confirms, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. 
“It’s [Y/N],” you answer.
Rook raises an eyebrow. 
“Your gait is the same, Trickster,” the hunter tells you with a nod. 
“I’m not surprised you know,” you comment, “Do you know what’s going on?” 
“Non, I’m just as baffled as you are. I’ve never heard of a magicless person and mage swapping bodies,” Rook replies, before looking curious. “Did you come to me because you want to get this sorted before Beautiful Vil wakes up?”
“You’re sharp as ever, Rook,” you confirm, “Yes, he’ll flip his lid once he finds out. I would like to prevent that.”
“I agree, Trickster. It’s for the best. I assume you have a plan,” the hunter replies. 
“Of course, we break down Crowley’s door and demand answers,” you tell him. 
Rook laughs, “Such an aggressive tactic from our lovely Trickster! I’m most honored to see such a beautiful and unique side to you. I will do all I can to help.” 
“Including my hair,” you add. 
Rook lights up. “I’m glad you’ve already thought of that, Trickster. I was going to offer my assistance.” 
“As long as I have a reference photo, I can recreate Vil’s makeup. I’m well-versed in skincare, so that shouldn’t be a problem. That being said, do you have any recommendations on what toner and serum to use for Vil’s skin today?” 
You lean in to let the hunter get a better look. Rook’s eyes widen before he breaks into a delighted grin. 
“Trickster has amazing foresight!” he praises, before examining Vil’s skin. “I would suggest the Shrinking Toner to reduce pore size and the Luminous Serum to brighten the skin.” 
“Perfect. Thank you. Get ready and come to Vil’s room to help me,” you instruct before leaving. 
“Oui!” Rook agrees with enthusiasm. 
You shake your head with a smile, striding down the hall in Vil’s comfy slippers.
——————
“Bang on his door,” you instruct. 
“Oui! Trickster’s suggestions are straight to the point and no-nonsense. It’s so different from how you usually behave. It’s magnifique,” he compliments. 
“Yes, yes, hurry up. We don’t have all day,” you urge.
You wait before the thudding of footsteps is heard. The bird man opens the door with ruffled feathers. He’s wearing dark indigo flannel pajama bottoms and a ratty white t-shirt with black crows and feathers.
“What is all this racket? It’s 4:45 in the morning. Couldn’t this have waited?” Crowley scolds, before pausing to register who’s in front of him. “Mr. Schoenheit and Mr. Hunt, what are you doing here?”
“It’s [Y/N]. Vil and I have somehow switched bodies. I want answers before he wakes up in hysterics. It would be in your best interest to let us in,” you demand.
Crowley is stunned but steps back. You sweep past him with regal elegance. Crowley raises an eyebrow at your demeanor. Rook slips in, standing beside you. The headmaster closes the door and puts a hand to his chin. 
“A mage fueling a magical phenomenon for themselves and a magicless person isn’t unheard of. The caster has to be extremely powerful, but Mr. Schoenheit fits the bill,” he muses.
You stay quiet as Crowley thinks.
“The only thing I can think of is wish magic. Do you have a strong wish?” He asks.
“Yes, I wanted to perform on stage in front of an audience,” you reply.
The headmaster nods before consulting Rook, “Mr. Hunt, you know Mr. Schoenheit well. Is there anything he desires more than anything else?” 
“Oui, Roi de Poison wishes to break out of his role as a villain,” he answers. 
“Everything fits the requirements for this phenomenon to occur,” Crowley murmurs before speaking up with a clap. “I know what happened!
“Sometimes when two people close by have an intense wish that can be solved with one solution, the ambient magic grants them an opportunity to obtain both wishes. Once both wishes are fulfilled, the magic will revert to normal,” he explains.
You’re silent, before turning to Rook. 
“My wish won’t be fulfilled until VDC ends. I want to perform on stage, so I’ll be filling in for Vil,” you inform.
There’s a flash of deep concern before he covers it with a familiar encouraging smile.
“I have no doubt you’ll be able to fill in for Beautiful Vil! I will support you in every way I can. As the resident Vil expert, I can help coach you,” Rook offers with an elegant bow.
You cut his movements off. 
“I’m Roi de Poison for now. I expect to be addressed as such. I won’t tolerate a slip of the tongue. I suggest you start practicing in private. I’m sure you know what will happen if you don’t,” you punctuate with an icy voice. 
Rook jolts with wide eyes. His hands fly up into a surrendering pose. 
“Oui, Roi de Poison, I will heed your command,” he complies. 
“Good, I expect nothing less from my vice leader,” you state, before addressing Crowley. “That’s the most helpful you’ve been since I’ve arrived here. I suggest you get your act together before your negligence is exposed. If people learn of my living conditions, my fans will riot.” 
Crowley looks at you, gobsmacked. He opens and closes his mouth a couple of times. 
“Are–are you threatening me?” He stutters.
You narrow your eyes. 
“The only thing I’m threatening you to do is your job. If you don’t want your reputation to go down the drain, I suggest renovating Ramshackle Dorm. I’ll even be gracious,” you say, emphasizing his signature word. “I’ll give my portion of the VDC reward to fund the operation.”
The headmaster stares at you in shock. Your eyes sweep the older man’s form, evaluating him.
“You also have… questionable tastes. As a sponsor, I will be consulted before the designs are finalized. It’s nonnegotiable. Thank you for your assistance, headmaster. Rook, we’re leaving,” you command, before sweeping out of the room.
——————
You lower yourself to the ground, dismounting the broom. You prop it against the wall.
“Trickster, you’re a natural! You fly and handle your magic like Beautiful Vil. It’s elegant and powerful. It’s a beautiful flurry of flowers in a windstorm,” Rook compares. 
You raise an eyebrow before stating, “Thank you, but I’m more concerned about passing as Vil.”
“Oui! You’ll fool everyone!” Rook reassures.
You drop your Vil act and answer with a smile.
“I’ll fool everyone except for you. You’re too observant,” you correct, sitting next to him. “Thanks for helping out. I wouldn’t be nearly as good if you didn’t correct my walk and give me pointers to handle this body’s magic.” 
“Of course, Trickster. You’re a wonderful and talented person to work with,” he answers. 
“You are too,” you return with a smile.
The two of you fall into comfortable silence. Your eyes slip close and allow yourself to breathe. It’s been hectic these last three hours. You finally have time to process. Your breath slows, as you slip into a meditative state. It’s something you picked up a few years ago. When you meditate, you’re less reactive and more grounded. When you finish, you hear an ear-piercing shriek. 
“That’s our cue,” you comment, standing up. 
“Oui!” Rook agrees, following your lead.
A herd of elephants thunders down the upstairs hallway. There’s a muffled shout. 
“Don’t yell in my ear, henchman!” Grim yells.
A door slams open.
“What’s wrong?! Are you hurt?!” Deuce cries.
You and the vice leader arrive at the foot of the stairs.
“I expect you to back me up,” you tell Rook, slipping into your Vil persona.
“Of course, Roi de Poison, let’s give them a show,” he grins with a bow.
You nod and ascend the stairs. More footsteps join. 
“Is everything ok?” Kalim’s voice resounds, “Jamil’s good at first aid if [Y/N] is hurt.”
“Yo, why do you keep staring at yourself?” Ace questions with mild irritation, “Has Vil infected you? Are you freaking out over a breakout or something?”
Epel pipes up, “You’re kiddin’. Ya woke us up for nothin’? I could’ve slept for another 30 minutes if ya didn’t start hollerin’ like a rooster.”
You breach the stairs with a disapproving expression.
“Epel,” you snap, “Watch your language and accent. If you want to reach your full potential, you must speak with eloquence. No cutting corners. You have to practice in private.” 
The group whips around to face you. You stride up to them. They part, allowing you to peer into your room. Vil gapes at you like a fish out of water.
“Close your mouth. It’s unbecoming,” you tell him, before addressing the others. “We’re having an emergency meeting downstairs. I expect all of you to complete the skincare routine I detailed last night. Once you're done, meet Rook and me in the living room.” 
The group shares a few concerned looks, before dispersing. You turn to the person occupying your body.
“That includes you,” you add before walking away. 
Once you’re out of earshot, Rook reveres you.
“That was the most worthy performance! You live up to your namesake, Trickster. You’ve tricked the others,” he gushes. 
You chuckle at the clever wording and sit down on the sofa. Picking up the papers Rook organized, you flip through them.
“Thank you for giving me written documents about Vil,” you voice, “I suspect you know more about him than he does.” 
“Oui, Roi de Poison has told me that multiple times,” he confirms with a chuckle.
You shake your head with a small smile. Rook’s far better than any of your perverted stalkers and hate fans in your original world. At least the hunter has good intentions and is helpful. You don’t mind his strange antics. You skim through the documents while you wait. 
The first one to arrive is the youngest Pomefiore student. You zero in on him, looking for a fault. 
“Your slip up was improper and your attire is too,” you criticize, “Your vest is wrinkled and your bow is crooked. Rook, take Epel to steam his clothes.”
“Oui!” He complies, ushering the boy out of the room. 
You sigh. You disagree with Vil’s methods. They’re inefficient and callous. Thankfully, you only have to play along for a little while. You can tweak his character after you’ve proven yourself. 
The Clown Crew announces their arrival by sounds rather than sight.
“How dare they kick me out?! It’s my room too,” Grim complains. 
He comes around the corner with Ace and Deuce in tow. You skim over the two Heartslabyul students, before doubling back. You stand up and stalk over. The three freshmen freeze as you bear down on them. You grab Ace’s face and click your tongue.
“You should’ve thought better than to forgo my skincare routine. You underestimate my expertise,” you sneer, releasing his face. “You missed toner, serum, and sunscreen. You're going to do it again. What are the steps?”
“Cleanser, toner, serum, moisturizer, sunscreen,” Ace lists with dead eyes. 
“So you’re capable of absorbing information. Learn to apply it in the future,” you scathe, “Get out of my sight. When you come back, I expect you to have done it right. I don’t need someone on my team who can’t follow basic instructions.”
Ace backs up, startled. The Scarabia students step in. Your attention shifts to the newcomers, allowing your friend to flee.
“Did Ace get in trouble?” Kalim asks, glancing back at the dashing freshman. 
“Indeed, he decided to skip some steps in his skincare routine,” you confirm with distaste. 
Kalim comments, “I would’ve forgotten too if it wasn’t for Jamil.”
“I’m sure you would have,” you retort with an eye roll. 
Rook’s voice comes around the corner. 
“Oui! Monsieur Multi is one of the most helpful people I know. He truly is a master of multitasking and many skills. He’s deserving of his title,” the hunter compliments.
The vice leader reveals himself along with the shortest Pomefiore student. You assess Epel and deem his appearance acceptable. The sunshine student turns to Rook with a blinding smile. 
“Yeah! Jamil’s the best. He’s way smarter than me and super helpful. He also cooks the most delicious food,” Scarbia’s leader praises.
You tune out their ramblings, returning to the couch to refocus on the documents. 
Vil runs with Jack Howl, his childhood friend, every morning at 6 am. They’ve cancelled until VDC has concluded. 
Vil knew Jack as a kid? That’s unexpected. You didn’t even think they knew each other. They’re in different grades and different dorms. However, you’re unsurprised that Vil chooses to work out and run with him in the mornings. The actor seems like the type.
Your body walks in. You glance up to scrutinize Vil’s appearance. Before you can look very hard, Ace sweeps in front of him. He passes the disguised dorm leader and your focus turns to the redhead. Observing his skin for a moment, you find it adequate and retract your gaze. 
“Sit and let’s get started,” you instruct.
Rook takes his place beside you. The others find a seat. Once everyone is settled, you address them.
“Vil and I have switched bodies,” you state. 
The group pauses.
“What?” Deuce blurts out.
“I said Vil and I switched bodies,” you punctuate. 
“You switched bodies?” Kalim clarifies.
You let out an irritated sigh. “Is that not what I just said?”
Ace speaks up. “Wait, who did you switch bodies with?”
You give an unimpressed look. 
“Who else but the person who screamed bloody murder, waking everyone up?” you suggest, looking at the culprit. 
All eyes turn to your body. 
“V—Vil?” Kalim questions hesitantly. 
The dorm leader nods but doesn’t say anything. He continues to glare holes into everything around him. Rook jumps in to ease the tension. 
“Trickster and I found out what happened!” He exclaims, reclaiming the crowd’s attention. “We broke down Crowley’s door and demanded answers.”
“You broke down the headmaster’s door?” Deuce repeats, stunned.
Ace smacks him upside the head.
“I can’t believe you’ve survived this long considering how dumb you are,” Ace quips.
“Hey!” Deuce shouts in defense.
Your voice cuts across, silencing them. 
“It’s an exaggeration.” you clarify, before launching into a summary of the situation. 
“Vil and I won’t switch bodies until after VDC. With that in mind, I will take up the mantle as leader,” you conclude.
Vil bolts up from his chair.
“You can’t do that! You have no right!” he opposes. 
“If you want me to perform in an important movie instead, then we’ll be here longer,” you state. 
“That’s not what I meant,” Vil growls, “You can’t act as me!”
You raise an eyebrow. 
“Why not?” you question. 
“You’re going to mess up,” he snaps, “You have no credentials! I have a reputation to think about. You can’t just parade around in my body. I have so many schedules and habits. You won’t be able to remember them. I refuse to have my body deteriorate because of your incompetence! Unlike you, I have responsibilities. I’m the head of Pomefiore, the leader of this team, and a third-year student! There’s no way you can act as me. You’re unqualified!”
Vil’s voice grows and grows until he’s shouting by the end. His chest heaves up and down. He glares daggers into you. You stare at him with no reaction.
It starts as a quiet scoff in the back of your throat. Then, a small shake makes its way into your shoulders. A chuckle slips out. From there it turns into a wicked laugh, before crescendoing into a demonic cackle. You double over from the force of your howls. You can’t get enough. He’s playing right into your hand. 
It takes a minute to calm down. When you recover, you glance at the others. They stare with disturbed concern and unease. You chuckle to yourself again. You sit up with a sinister smirk. You stare into Vil’s eyes.
“You should think twice before criticizing someone,” you advise. 
‘Someone who’s in your body,’ you silently finish. 
You wait for the implication to sink in. It takes a moment, but Vil’s eyes widen in horror. You put a hand up to stop his line of thinking. You just want to scare him.
“Don’t worry. I won’t do something so barbaric as threatening your body or reputation. As a former top-charting idol, I understand the importance of a well-maintained public image,” you inform, “As for the third-year curriculum, I’ll allow Ace to confirm my credentials.”
Ace gives a wary look before his mouth quarks in a mischievous smile. He doesn’t mind putting Vil in his place. 
“Yeah, if you haven’t noticed, but by some miracle Leona’s test ranking has gone up. That’s because of [Y/N]. They've been teaching and tutoring Leona, since his overblot. They’re up to date with the homework,” Ace brags.
Without waiting for a response, you gesture to Rook.
“And your evaluation of my magic?” You request.
“It’s strong and similar to Roi de Poison’s. I was surprised at how quickly they picked it up. They’ll have no problems posing as you in terms of magical ability,” Rook details.
Vil is still, staring at Rook. You can practically hear the thought swirling in his head: He’s being replaced. You decide to push him over the edge. 
“I don’t think I have to give my resume for my acting, but I’ll ease your mind. I’ve done a few jobs here and there. I was most well-known for my favorite roles: villains. In light of that, you’re quite easy to play,” you reveal. 
There’s a moment of silence before Vil screams and lunges. On instinct, you grab his throat. Vil halts with wide eyes. You take the opportunity to push him back against the wall. He regains his bearings and slashes at your face. You give Vil’s neck a short squeeze. He gasps and his hands fly to your’s. 
His fingernails claw into porcelain wrists. It stings, but you ignore it. You snatch his hands and raise them above his head. You slot yourself against his body and restrain him. Now, you wait. 
Vil struggles. He attempts to bite, kick, and scream his way out of your hold. He’s not thinking. Vil doesn’t remember there are other people here. He’s just focused on you. You don’t flinch and you don’t react. You wait for him to lose steam. 
He becomes desperate with your unresponsiveness. Vil throws everything he has into fighting back. Tears of frustration and anger stream down his face. He’s loud and messy. It’s so different from the put-together, dignified Vil. All he cares about is lashing out and hurting you. 
By the end of the one-sided battle, Vil is heaving, unable to breathe enough air. His body slackens, falling limp. His head is tucked into his chest, hiding his face. He stills and falls silent. His body is still coiled with tension. You finally speak. 
“How does it feel?” 
Vil tenses beneath you, but doesn’t say anything. 
“How does it feel being on the receiving end of your behavior?” you try. 
Vil’s head snaps up. 
“I don’t act like that!” he growls, gritting his teeth. 
You keep your eyes on Vil but address Epel. Your tone is softer. 
“Epel, is this how you feel when Vil insults and criticizes you, then he forces you into compliance just because he’s stronger than you? Is this how you feel?” you question. 
There’s a brief period of silence. The only thing you hear is Vil’s labored breath. 
“Yes,” Epel replies.
You stare at Vil. 
“This is how you act. You poke and prod people’s weaknesses. You’re annoyed when they become upset and resistant to your advice. So, you strongarm them into submission, citing you’re doing it to help them. The reality is you’re hurting people and accumulating their ire. You wonder why people keep treating you like a villain. Wake up and face your reality, Vil,” you state. 
You let him go, stepping back. You turn to face the others. Shaking off the lingering tension as much as you can, you perk up to address them. 
“We’ll have rehearsal as usual. I will lead the team. I expect the same dedication you’ve demonstrated so far. My teaching style will be different, but still effective. I look forward to working together,” you tell them, before looking at Epel. “Epel, I have a special project for you. I’m going to solve Vil’s problem for him. You’ll have a few adventures in the upcoming days. You’ll miss some regular practice, so I’ll privately tutor you.” 
Checking that they understood, you dismiss them. You pick up Vil’s backpack and place Rook’s notes in it. You call out to the two Pomefiore students. They wait for you. You finalize details regarding Epel’s “adventures.” The two other students seem wary of your body against the wall. You make a point ignore him. 
You escort them out of the Ramshackle Dorm. When you get to the door, Rook hesitates. You place a hand against his back and guide him forward. Vil needs to reflect. 
Afterward, you ask for some bandages from Rook. 
—----------
“Wake up and face your reality, Vil.” 
The words echo and swirl in Vil’s head. He sinks to the ground. Vil sits under the spot where [Y/N] restrained him. His head thumps against the wall and he thinks. Did he become a villain? Did he become the very thing he despised? 
He glances at his hands. They bleed. Your hands—he corrects—bleed down your wrists. He sank his nails into your hands when you restrained him. 
This isn’t his body. You promised not to hurt his. He’s already failing to maintain yours. 
Vil feels empty. A void has opened up in his chest. He doesn’t know what to do. He’s not special. He’s a villain and he doesn’t know what to do.
Without his permission, tears slide down his face. He doesn’t have the right to cry. He forced others to feel this way. He didn’t know. However, it doesn’t change the fact Vil hurt others. He caused more pain to them than he feels now. Vil has no right to cry, but can’t stop the spring shower falling from his cheeks. 
Vil looks at his wounded hands and hates himself.
-----------------
Author's Note: Very proud of this one. Let me know your thoughts! If there's any mistakes let me know too. Just make sure to point them out gently lol. I'm working on pt2. Look forward to see some of Epel's adventures in there as well. What are you guys looking forward too?
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mothdogsart · 4 months ago
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It’s been a minute since I made a book, but I’m finally done with this copy of The Grindr Logo Doesnt Even Have a ‘G’ In It, an Aziraphale/Crowley fic by @indieninja92 ! This story has fucking everything. It’s achingly tender, funny, hot, and heartwrenching by turns, and I can’t recommend it highly enough.
(Tumblr mobile refuses to let me paste links for whatever reason, but it can be read on AO3.)
I had a hell of a time figuring out a design forthis one. Instead of designing a dust jacket like usual, I opted for a paper label/cover and I think it turned out really well! The silk moire was a real bastard to work with and was more finicky with the glue than I like, so I’ll be sticking to cotton-based bookcloth in the future. The iPhone text headers were fun to play around with though! 😄
Technical details ➡️
Book cloth: Silk moire in platinum from Hollander’s
Endpapers: Chiyogami fireworks from Hollander’s
Fonts: SF Rounded (title) and Sabon (body)
Designed in Photoshop and Canva
‼️ My binds are not for sale. Authors and artists can request gift copies. Keep fanfiction free and legal! ‼️
Tagging @goodomensafterdark for visibility
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nereidprinc3ss · 11 months ago
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okay i know this is kind of a specific request but can you do something with professor Spence and uni reader where they get into a spat and argue bc she did something stupid and he gets mad and she’s like “noooo pls don’t be mad i hate when you’re mad at me I’m sorry🥺” bc she literally cannot function knowing she let him down (me with everybody) but he’s like super stubborn and goes all closed up and quiet so that he doesn’t like blow up on her until she finally says like “pls talk to me” and he’s all pissed and like “hell na bitch u crazy!🗣️‼️” but then later he’s like “it’s ok i love u but neva do that shit again ho” then they make up and it’s good again 🎀 ok i explained that so poorly (and comedically if i may) but i hope u get it and pls make it SO DRAMATIC bc I live for drama! like she steals test answers or something or does something that could like get her kicked out of school OR him lose his job 🤔 sigh … idk I’m leaving now. Also i LOOPOOOCE ORRKGOOVI love your fics. Luv em
hey girl (gender neutral) this made me laugh bc genuinely sometimes i write spencer so ooc that is what he sounds like. and i'm not sorry! anyway this is potentially a vyvanse fueled nightmare but i wrote it and i'm posting it MY BLOG MY RULES BITCHESSSS!!!! but genuinely read the content warning LMAO this one got a lil kick to it
warnings/tags: ANGST, HURT/COMFORT, fem!reader, spencer and r get into a for real argument like they're mean to each other, spencer is a lil toxic but its resolved, emotionally neglects reader just for a teeensy second but then he's really nice and sweet again, discussion of his past addic+ion, gets fluffy because i'm not EVIL, gets suggestive at the end bc i am secretly evil.......
a/n: i don't know whats happening. this confuses me just as much as it confuses you. its 3 am in the morning. im gonna post nice happy things soon. Gootbye
“I cannot believe you right now. I don’t even—I don’t even know what to say.” 
“Spencer, you don’t have to say anything. It has nothing to do with you, and I’m not looking for your approval.” 
He looks up from where he’d been rubbing his temples, like you’re a headache, eyebrows raised and lips parted in indignant disbelief. 
“Oh! You’re not looking for my approval? Well thank god for that, because if you were one of my students I would recommend expulsion to the board.” 
“Are you fucking kidding me? I just said I don’t care about your opinion on this, much less your hypothetical opinion from some alternate universe where you have any authority over my education whatsoever.” 
“You distributed an answer key to half of your class! Objectively this is the kind of thing that gets people expelled. I don’t understand how someone so smart could do something so fucking stupid.” 
The words bite more than you were prepared for—but what hurts even more is how much he seems to mean them. In arguments past you’d both said things you didn’t mean, and then would immediately melt into I’m so sorry’s and the fight would resolve itself. Spencer’s clenched jaw and inability to make eye contact with you do not lend themselves to tender apologies. They cannot be attributed to miscommunication. 
You take a step closer to where he’s bracing himself against the countertop, arms crossed defensively in front of your chest. 
“Spencer, I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was such a big deal. People cheat in college all the time.” 
Still no reply. His head shakes so minutely you wonder if you’re imagining it. Panic wells in your chest. 
“Please talk to me. I really hate when you ice me out. I’m sorry, okay? Just... please say something.” 
Finally, his eyes slide to you. They lack the fiery anger of moments ago but there’s not much softness there either. His normally warm gaze now feels too abrasive, too cold and sharp on your bare skin. You're exposed, much too soft for that grating look, and it feels like he can see everything that’s wrong with you. 
“Believe me when I tell you this. I am doing us both a favor by not speaking to you right now.” 
And then he’s leaving the kitchen—nothing but a breeze against your cheek and the sound of a door slamming to prove he was ever there. 
The apartment is silent. You stand in the middle of the kitchen, unsure of what to do next. Spencer very, very rarely gets angry at you to the point of neglect, and you know he’s doing his best with what was modelled for him as a child and his tendency to feel things so deeply it’s nearly disabling; but that doesn’t make it hurt much less. It doesn’t make you feel less abandoned or alone.  
You’re sad, and you’re still pissed, and maybe you’re in just a bit of shock as you robotically move back to your nest of blankets on the couch and resume your schoolwork. What else is there to do? Unless Spencer is right—unless you really are about to get expelled after getting the answer key for an upcoming test from a friend, who then gave it to another friend, and so on. But is that really your fault?  
It’s a struggle to stay focused as your mind keeps drifting back to Spencer in the other room, those cruel words and that cold steely look in his eye that isn’t supposed to ever be aimed at you. It’s not a secret that side of him exists, but it doesn’t belong in this apartment. It’s not something he needs to use against you. He’s supposed to be on your side. But instead, he’d said you should be expelled and essentially called you stupid. And now you’re doing homework for a class at a school you may not even be a student of come Monday. 
---------------------------------------------------
The sound of the office door opening forty-five minutes later spikes your blood pressure and simultaneously makes your heart flutter, because no matter how mad at him you might be, Spencer is still Spencer.  
He comes to stand behind the couch quietly, but you don’t acknowledge him. Maybe your typing gets a bit more aggressive, but aside from that you flat out reject his presence. 
“Can we talk?” 
You let him sweat for a minute as you finish your paragraph. 
“I don’t know, Spencer. Can we? Or are you not done with your temper tantrum?” 
“That is... well deserved,” he sighs, rounding the couch and tapping the bottom of your foot, signaling that he wants you to move your legs. You despise how automatically you comply, pulling your knees to your chest to avoid touching him as he sits next to you. There’s a long moment of silence, in which you resume typing. Spencer scoffs, leaning in slightly to peer at your screen. “Are you doing homework right now? I’m a complete asshole to you and you just... do your homework?"
“What the fuck else was I supposed to do?” you almost-yell, slamming your laptop shut and blinking away potential tears. “The only person I wanted to talk to called me stupid and fucking left!” 
The tears realize their potential once you admit the blunt truth. 
Spencer carefully moves your laptop and pulls you into his arms—and you just let him. There’s not much fight left in you. There wasn’t a lot to begin with. 
“I am so sorry, angel. You’re right, I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have yelled, I shouldn’t have said what I said, I shouldn’t have walked away. I overreacted.” 
“Yeah, you really did,” you cry, allowing him to run his hand over your hair. “Why did you do that? Why were you so fucking mean?” 
His voice shakes slightly as he responds, betraying his own anxieties, and a new, unwelcome sense of trepidation slithers through your veins. 
“I was wondering that, too. Even as I was saying it, I knew—I knew it wasn’t what I wanted to be saying. And then I was in the other room and I wanted to be out here, and I couldn’t figure out why I wasn’t. But I think I was just scared. Which—I know, doesn’t really make sense, but... I think about when Ethan dropped out of the academy, and ended up doing heroin in New Orleans for three years, and I think about when I almost left the BAU because I was so convinced I’d never get clean that I didn’t even want to anymore, and—and the idea of you losing your education and your direction like that terrified me, probably unreasonably, and I took it out on you. And I’m sorry.” 
“But I’m not like you or Ethan. You don’t have to worry about that. Even if I... even I do get in some sort of disciplinary trouble. That’s a road you don’t have to worry about me going down, ever.” 
He fixes some unseen wrinkle on your shirt.  
“Yeah, but, remember... I used to not be like me or Ethan either. Do you think twelve-year-old Spencer would have ever even considered that of the infinite realities and universes which exist, he was living in one where someday he’d be shooting up in the bathroom at work?” 
“Mm-mm,” you hum, shaking your head and burying your face in Spencer’s shoulder. The sound is more of a plea for him to be less descriptive than an answer to his rhetorical question. It’s still much easier for him to talk about that part of his life than it is for you to have to actually imagine it. You didn’t know him then, but you’ve seen pictures, and you know Spencer now, and it’s... it’s just too much. Too sad. 
“Okay,” he agrees soothingly, still playing with your hair. “I digress. My point is that literally anything is possible, and while it’s not necessarily likely, I more than anyone know that anxiety even over the most improbable of things is never completely unfounded.”  
You sniffle in response, too emotionally and physically exhausted to contribute much to the conversation by this point. Thankfully, Spencer can talk for two. An idiosyncrasy which you love and comes in handy every once in a while. He can play his own devil’s advocate; in this case, you. 
“But that doesn’t mean I get to take it out on you. Ever. I truly, truly, sincerely apologize for that. I never want to hurt you.” 
You let the apology sink into your skin like a salve, soothing every abrasion those earlier words had left in their violent wake. 
After a few minutes, you find the energy to ask a question that might best remain unanswered. 
“Are you still mad at me?” 
He’s quiet for a beat, seemingly contemplative as his fingers trace abstract patterns in a language all his own on your arm. 
“I’m not thrilled. But you were right earlier. It’s not my place to be mad at you for something like that.” 
“Mm... it’s a little bit your place. You’re an actual professor.” 
He chuckles. 
“At an entirely different university.” 
“Thank god,” you laugh. “You and me at the same school would be such an HR clusterfuck.”
While it’s almost a serious matter, the smile in his voice is evident. 
“Yeah... I, uh... try not to think about it.” 
“Okay, but seriously. In your professional opinion. Am I fucked? Like, do I need to prepare an appeal and character witnesses or whatever?” 
Spencer sighs. 
“It was incredibly reckless and irresponsible. You should be ready for disciplinary pushback from the schoolboard if you get caught. That being said... because over sixty of you got a hold of the answer key, I doubt anyone is getting expelled, and even if they did, it would likely only be the TA and the student he gave the key to. It’s my tentative, professional opinion that you’ll probably be fine.” 
You relax slightly, allowing a tension you didn’t realize was there to shed like an old skin. 
“I’m not gonna cheat again,” you promise on an exhale. It’s simply too much risk for too little reward.
Spencer’s response is quiet, and comes much faster than you’d expected. 
“Oh, I know you aren’t. Because if you do, you’re going to have to worry about disciplinary action from me. And I’m not nearly as nice as the dean of your school, darling girl.” 
But something about the way he says it—a thinly veiled threat/promise contrasted by a sweet kiss to your forehead—doesn’t exactly make academic honesty look all that exciting.
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