#probably one of the angstiest things I've ever written

[lavenderspence]

To Lean On You | Spencer Reid

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Content Warning: post prison!Spencer, mentions of addiction, prison talk (typical for the prison arc), gun use, mentions of death, suggestive themes, idiots in love, angst, so much angst.

Word Count: 8.6K

Summary: You and Spencer wasted years, truths hidden, feelings uncertain, and a fear of the unrequited. It took ten weeks, isolated, silent, and broken, for the realization to strike. There was no life, if you didn’t have each other. 

A/N: It’s finally here! Wow, writing this was a wild ride, honestly. Over a month of writing, blood, sweat, and tears poured over it (there were in fact some tears). This is also the first thing I’ve written in 3 years and I'm very happy to finally be out of my slump. It's probably the angstiest thing I've written ever, and at the same time, I feel like it's not the greatest, but deep down, I still love it, haha. Let me know if I've missed any warnings. And, enjoy and any feedback is appreciated. <3

Here are some of the songs I listened to while writing this if you want to get into the mood:

Hearts by Jessie Ware

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived by Taylor Swift

Lost Without You by Freya Ridings

In This Shirt by The Irresponssibles

masterlist

79 days, 3 hours, and 27 minutes - that’s how long it’s been since he got arrested in Mexico.

70 days, 6 hours, and 13 minutes since you saw him being pulled out of the courtroom after he was deemed a flight risk and denied bail. 70 days, 6 hours, and 13 minutes have passed since you last saw him.

65 days, 7 hours, and 11 minutes, since he was transferred to Millburn Correctional Facility, and this whole nightmare, had started. 

Per Penelope’s carefully crafted schedule, every team member has made numerous trips to visit Spencer - every member except you. You’d only made one trip out, and that had been 3 days after he’d been transferred.

March 4th, 2017

It’s been 8 days since you saw him led in cuffs out of that courtroom, where Penelope had broken down in Luke’s arms, everyone too shocked to make a sound. He’d looked back, his eyes meeting yours briefly, and it had been as if you’d almost seen your reflection in the mirror, every emotion had run between you both in a matter of seconds. 

Shock, you’d almost been sure they would grant bail, and you’d be able to take him home. Almost. 

Fear, for his future and his well-being. Fear of the uncertain. 

Desperation, the desire to run to him and take him into your arms, finally, and to not let go. 

Except you’d held his gaze for as long as you could before you’d looked down and turned your head to save him from seeing you break down in tears. You’d made a hasty escape after that, not sparing any of your teammates a glance, and walked out of the courthouse, stopping by a tree outside. The urge to curl up into a ball and hide, pretending none of this had happened, was strong, and then a hand wrapped around your shoulder. You had turned around, only to see Rossi and one of his sad little smiles, the ones you rarely saw.

“It’s going to be okay,” he’d said, squeezing your shoulder. ”The kid is strong.”

You’d sniffled, trying to hide the tears in your voice. “Yeah, well, I’m not sure I am," you’d whispered in despair. 

You were better than you had been 8 days ago, calmer. Although still heartbroken, you were looking forward to seeing him, seeing with your eyes that he was okay. Garcia had seen him, 2 days ago, before you’d been sent out on a case.  

“He looks good. I mean, as good as that big genius brain of his can look in prison. His eyes were sad though, really, really sad.” She’d paused as if to assure herself it would be alright, “I’m sure he’s looking forward to seeing you, sweetness.” She’d squeezed your hand, but her statement hadn’t rung true. 

Your hands were shaking, you weren’t sure what from. The anticipation you’d felt? The nerves? Or the words you had a hard time coming to terms with.

“I’m sorry, but your name isn’t on Spencer Reid’s approved visitor list,” the guard at the checkpoint had said after rechecking the list. 

“There has to be a mistake, I made an appointment,” you insisted, feeling yourself unravel. It wasn’t possible, you knew for a fact you were on that list, Emily had made sure of that.

“Look, lady. There are only 10 names on that list, and yours is not one of them. Now, you need to move, because there are people here waiting to see their loved ones.” you’d hiccuped and turned around, walking to the lockers to unlock your gun, badge, and phone. 

“I’m here to see a loved one.” You’d wanted to scream, but you knew it would have been futile. There wasn’t anything you could do at that moment. 

You walked to your car, dialing Emily’s number, “This is Prentiss.”  

For a second, only your breathing could be heard over the sound of the wind, and then a tiny sniffle. You wiped at your eyes and nose, and then spoke up, barely, “Why am I not on Spencer’s approved visitor list?” 

“What do you mean? Every member of this team is on the list. So is his lawyer and Diana, even Derek,” you could hear the surprise in her voice, yet you couldn’t keep calm any longer.

"They refused to let me see him! I made the appointment, Emily, and I came, hoping I’d finally see him hear his voice, and ask him-” Your voice broke mid-sentence, and after taking a deep breath, you continued, “Ask him if he was okay, and I was denied because out of the 10 names on that list, it seems mine’s not one of them.” You finished defeated, barely above a whisper.

All was silent for the moment, save for what you could hear was Penelope’s voice on the other end of the line, quietly asking what was going on, “Let me call Fiona and the warden, and I’ll see what happened. Meanwhile, I need you back here, because we just got a case.” Her voice wasn’t leaving anything up for discussion. Still, you couldn’t go, not until you saw him. 

“Emily-” she cut you off.

“It’s not a discussion. I’ll resolve this, but I need you here and your head in the game. Am I clear?” Her voice was stern, but maybe that’s exactly what you needed. Maybe.

“Yeah, clear. I’m on my way back.” You took a deep breath and started the car and the journey back to Quantico, but your mind stayed right there, on the bars that kept you away from the one thing you held dearest. 

As it turns out, there was nothing the warden or Fiona could do. Even Emily Prentiss, Unit Chief of the BAU, couldn't “resolve” the situation. Days, weeks, and months passed, and for 70 days you couldn’t see him, isolated out, not even knowing why.

“-to be in the courthouse in one.” You snapped out of your thoughts, only catching the end of the sentence, digging the heels of your hands into your eyes. You were tired, and it had little to do with the fact that you had been up all night, going over all the evidence with the team and tracing Lindsey Vaughan’s steps to a T in an attempt to exonerate Spencer and finally bring him home. 

You were exhausted, both physically and mentally. You’d been up for more than 24 hours now, but then you hadn’t been sleeping all that well to begin with. Every single night was spent wondering how Spencer was doing, and every time you closed your eyes, you saw him in that cell in Mexico. 

His eyes were red, high out of his mind, barely coherent, dirty, and injured - a far cry from the person you were used to seeing every single day - energetic, passionate, and brilliant. After 12 years, if there was one image you wished to erase from your memory, it was this one. Not all the blood you’ve seen spilled, every victim, be it men, women, or even children, all the horrors of the job, but this. Maybe it made you a bad person, but there was nothing worse than seeing the one person you held dearest at their lowest and not being able to do anything to stop it.

Every waking hour that you weren’t on the job was spent wondering how he was doing and if he was okay. If he was healthy, unharmed, and safe, or as safe as an FBI agent could be in prison. But most of all, the one thing that had kept you up at night, slowly destroying your sanity and making you question everything, had been the one question you couldn’t seem to get an answer to. 

“Why doesn’t he want to see me?”

You’d asked everyone and had waited with battered breath for an answer, a clarification on the matter, and it never came. As shocked as you had been at the notion that you wouldn’t be seeing Spencer for an indefinite amount of time, your team had been even more shocked. They knew the kind of relationship you and Spencer had, how close you’d become over the years, and how much you relied on each other. 

You’d asked every team member, you’d asked yourself, you’d even asked Spencer in a few of the letters you wrote to him, and then there had come a point where you just stopped. 

You were torturing yourself more than enough, day after day, and every single night, asking yourself a question you wouldn’t get an answer to. Not as long as he was locked up in that hellhole and you were out here, trying to keep together the pieces of something, that was on the verge of breaking. 

You felt a hand taking hold of yours, and for a second, you tensed up. Pulled out of your thoughts, you looked up and were met with chocolate brown eyes, full of worry - Emily’s eyes. 

You glanced around the room, only to realize it was empty, save for the two of you. You hadn’t felt when the others had left, that’s how deep in thought you had been. 

“Where did you go? I’ve been calling your name for a while now,” she spoke gently, squeezing your hand. If you were honest, that’s the first time she asked you anything about the situation. You’d spent weeks suffering in silence and trying to pretend that you weren’t slowly dying on the inside. 

You briefly thought about lying, it wouldn’t be the first lie you’d told since Spencer had been incarcerated, but you didn’t have it in you to hide anymore. 

And so, for the first time since Spencer’s hearing, you told the truth.

“Nothing makes sense anymore, Em,” it left you in a whisper, “I’m barely holding it together. I feel like I’m drowning sometimes, and just when I breach the surface, I’m pulled back in. My mind, it’s...I question everything, all the time. My mornings start with thoughts about him, and my nights end with tears over him, over this entire…this nightmare. I keep waiting for my alarm to go off, to wake up and realize that this has been a plot of my imagination, some cruel joke my mind has conjured, designed to show me... "Your eyes welled with tears, prepared to admit something you should have long ago. Emily gave your hand another squeeze, prompting you to continue, and so you did, admitting it for the first time aloud. 

“Designed to show me that I can’t live a life that doesn’t have Spencer in it.” You wiped at your eyes, willing your tears at bay. When you dared to look up, you were met with the eyes of the only other person besides Spencer who has been a constant rock in your life for the last 11 years. What you saw in her eyes then wasn’t surprise like you’d thought, but relief. It took you a moment to fully read her, but it was like a switch had gone off when you finally did. 

“But you’re not surprised to hear this, are you?” you smiled sadly, a light laugh leaving you. 

“I wouldn’t be a good friend if I didn’t have my suspicions, and I’d be an even worse profiler,” she smiled at you, “Plus, there are some feelings that you just can’t hide,” you blinked, and then you blinked again. You hadn’t come right out and said it, and yet she knew, she somehow knew. 

“I didn’t mean it like that.” you tried to backtrack, but you knew it was a losing battle. Emily knew you well enough to smell your bullshit from miles.

“That’s exactly how you meant it, and don’t even try to deny it. I see it every damn day. It’s how you leave the room whenever you hear someone talk about visiting Spencer. You don’t want to hear how he’s doing because you wouldn’t believe it, not unless you see him with your own eyes. But you can’t, so you’ve resigned yourself to the torture of not knowing instead of giving yourself the smallest amount of peace by asking. You’ve been suffering in silence for almost three months, too stubborn to say anything, thinking you were doing yourself a favor. And what for? You’re crying yourself to sleep every night and coming to work the next morning, pretending everything is fine when clearly it’s not. You think you’re fooling everyone, but the only person you’re tricking is yourself. And how’s that working out for you?” she had a point, and it’s not like you weren’t aware of that fact. You knew what you were doing wasn’t okay or healthy. You had the most stable support system imaginable to get you through the hardest parts. It was hard, though, especially when the person who was suffering the most was the person who’d taken your heart with him. 

“Way to call me out, boss.” you were just about ready to end the conversation, you couldn’t take any more of this. You’d promised each other long ago that you wouldn’t profile each other but you had a feeling that was exactly what Emily was doing right now. Maybe not on purpose, and with every good intention imaginable, but you didn’t want that. You didn’t want one of your best friends to try to understand you based on behavioral analysis right after you’d spilled your soul out to her. 

“Just calling it the way I see it, someone has to,” she smiled, but then she shook her head a little before continuing. “What I want to know is why you didn’t say something earlier. You know I would have been there to listen, and so would have the team.” Damn, Emily Prentiss.

You didn’t have to think hard about it, you’ve been ruminating over everything for days. You were trying not to, but whenever your mind wasn’t focused on a case or the many drinking nights spent in Penelope’s purple adobe, that was where your mind would take you.

“Out of fear, I think,” you started, unsure for a second, still nervous to admit it. It wasn’t exactly what she was asking, but it was a start, “I was afraid, and I still am. I’ve been baiting myself into thinking it was just some sort of fondness, a little stronger than that which you feel towards a friend, and far lesser than what it actually is. I thought that if I didn’t say anything, I could go on lying to myself, and nothing would have to change, we wouldn’t have to change. Because words hold meaning, and an admission like that holds weight. What would I have done if it was just me who felt like this? I would have ruined the one thing we’ve both cherished for over a decade.” It felt good to finally say all of this out loud instead of holding it inward. But then again, Emily always knew when you'd had enough. 

She’d told you time and time again the same thing Hotch had asked of her when she returned to duty after faking her death: “Let me know when you are having a bad day.”. Honestly, you’d held off long enough, and so had she. It was a whole miracle she hadn’t pressed you about your behavior earlier. 

“That’s not what I was asking,” you said, shaking your head with a smile to let her know that you weren’t done speaking. 

“Everyone was suffering as a result of what happened in Mexico, what I was feeling wasn’t any different, Emily.” You were flippant about it, you always have been. You preferred isolating yourself and hiding everything instead of seeking a shoulder to bear the weight of what you felt. 

“Our sadness came from the fact that our friend was framed. And yours? That’s different.” 

“It isn’t,” she scoffed, getting up. Now you really felt like you were about to get scolded like a child.

“Yes, it is. God, you and Spencer are the same. It’s like I’m looking at his doppelganger without the whole… IQ of 187. You share some of the worst qualities a person can have,” you laughed at that, “You are both changeophobes-” you cut her off

“Metathesiophobia, fear of change.” She only raised her hand at you, as if to say, “See, you even sound like him,” which made you laugh even more. 

“You close yourselves off after a sad or traumatic experience, silently hoping you’d be able to get through the worst of it on your own. Most of the time, it’s evident that’s not the case. You only ask for help when you’ve reached rock bottom or have no other choice, but you’ve had a choice from the get-go. Your stubbornness even stems from the same anxieties, it’s infuriating,” she seemed to calm down then, in defeat maybe, or she hadn’t been mad, to begin with, she sat down again. 

“My point is, it shouldn’t have taken you learning that he might be coming home today to tell me all of this. I’ve known for a long time that there was something far more than platonic friendship on your end. You shouldn’t have tortured yourself since his trial to try to put the puzzle pieces together. You aren’t late, you have all the time in the world to say what you feel and what you want, and rejection shouldn’t be a factor, believe me. You need to make peace with that fear because Spencer is coming home today. And whether you are ready or not, you both need to have a serious conversation.” You appreciated her determination about Spencer being released, but then again, you had more than circumstantial evidence to support the fact that he was innocent. But, as always, Emily was right. He was coming home today, and after months of not seeing each other, there were a lot of things you needed to say. 

“I know. Thank you, Emily, for everything,” you whispered, squeezing her tight. 

Spencer’s POV

The first breath of fresh air after being on the inside for months felt far more overwhelming than he thought it would be. Being in charge of your being and your responses and emotions felt almost unnatural like the feeling of it didn’t belong to him. The sound of the wind and the traffic, people’s voices, and even the simple act of getting comfortable in the leather seats of the jet overwhelmed any ability to concentrate and think straight. 

In itself, it was strange. The prison was loud, the prison commissary at breakfast, lunch, and dinner was a cacophony of prisoners talking, cells being opened, and guards barking orders. The yard was loud too, although, in the middle of nowhere, nature could still be heard - the sounds of trees and the lone birds, if he had to guess a mix of Mourning Dove and Field Sparrow. Their songs were soothing most of the time, a welcome distraction from the usual noises around him. 

Without the atmosphere he’d gotten used to and subjected to all of those sounds and people whose presence he found comforting before, he now felt almost out of place. He wanted to feel at peace, he wanted to feel free, and although he technically was, his mind was more trapped than he’d actually been in that 2 by 2 cell in cellblock C.

He kept replaying some of the hardest moments from his time in, every threat, every punch he’d gotten, and the phantom feel of the fists connecting. Luis’ blood on his hands, the smell of bleach incorporated with the drugs, the tip of the sharpened toothbrush embedding into his thigh. All he’d done to survive, harm, and more harm, only to make it out alive. 

He barely recognized himself. He’d deliberately ignored looking at himself in the small plastic mirror in his cell, for fear of seeing what he’d had to become. Gone was the Spencer who’d use his brain to get out of situations, whose obliviousness more often than not helped to balance his intellect with the socially acceptable. Gone was the bubbly personality of a kid excited to share a plethora of facts with his friends. 

In his place sat a man, tormented by the reality of the hatred felt towards him. The reality of being a pawn in a game whose complexity could have been his downfall. A man whose genius, as much of a blessing, could sometimes be a curse. A man who had felt too much and was made to experience far more loss than his quaint heart was able to take. In the end, he kept losing, be it his father, by no choice of his own. His mentor, at the hands of a killer’s insanity. His friends and loved ones, hoping for a better life or his freedom, made to rot in a place he didn’t deserve to be in. 

Some would doubt that he had anything at all left to lose. All in all, how much more could the scrawny twelve-year-old child prodigy, left to survive in a public high school, take? 

His mind had been plagued by that question for years. He’d thought about that more than he’d like to admit. After every loss, there’d been a split moment where he’d asked himself what was next. What would be the next thing life would take from him? And every time, he’d had to wonder if, next time, life wouldn’t reach for the one thing he couldn’t allow to be taken from him. The one thing that, were he to lose, he’d never recover. He had hoped, sometimes prayed, that after everything he’d seen, everything he’d lived through, this would be the one thing that’d be spared. 

Locked in that cage, he’d tried even harder to ensure that there wouldn’t be another loss in his life - not anymore. Be it good or bad, he’d done everything. For 70 days, he’d had to assure himself he was doing what he thought was right, and what he wasn’t saying, he’d be forgiven for. He’d had to dodge questions and see the disappointment in his friend’s eyes, and when that wasn’t enough of a burden to bring all of his anxieties to the surface, he’d resigned himself to reading the words of the person he was doing all of this for - you. 

He’d reread every letter to the point where the edges of the papers were worn out, even though he’d known the contents by heart on the first read. He tortured himself by looking at your handwriting, analyzing the slanting of the words and the pressure of the pen. The little stains on the paper, he didn’t have to be a genius to know, were your tears. It broke his heart, to know he was causing you this much pain. He didn’t need to be there to see it, he felt it through your words.

He often questioned if it was worth it, if he was protecting you, or himself, or maybe even what you were or weren’t.

Even now, the weight of your words sat heavily on his mind, and right by his heart, in the pocket of his jacket, he felt the weight of the 9 letters you wrote. 

As he looked over from the little window of the jet, he couldn’t help but wonder if, in his desire to shield you from everything, he hadn’t gone too far. Ultimately, was he going to be forgiven, or be forced to pick up the pieces of the reality broken by his own doing?

“Don’t do that.” JJ’s gentle voice startled him from the overwhelming nature of his thoughts. She’d spent the last 30 minutes since they boarded silently observing him, waiting for him to pick up a conversation. But he’d decided to stay num. 

In every twitch of his fingers, in his desire to get comfortable but being unable to, she could see that he was restless. If she had to guess, his mind was much the same. 

“Do what?”

She gave him a look, one, had he not known her long enough, he might have been offended by. Clearly, she was offended herself, watching him play the clueless card. 

“Spence, I don’t need to profile you to know that your mind’s running a thousand miles a minute, contemplating your decisions, and I don’t think you should. You did what you thought was right, and no one blames you for that, not for Mexico, and not for what you did after,” she spoke evenly, gathering even Penelope and Alvez’s attention from where they sat. He looked over, receiving a smile and a nod from both before focusing on JJ again. 

Rationally, he knew she was right about everything. He didn’t need to run himself ragged with everything he could have done differently, or search for the perfect way to explain, or overall, the perfect outcome of his own decisions. He knew there wasn’t one, there was no perfect way to say what he needed to, no perfect words to pick so he could fix this and erase the pain he knew he’d caused. 

Perfection wasn’t something you could strive to achieve, because there’s no such thing as perfection. The term was diverse, everyone had a different perspective on what that might look like. If for JJ, perfection was the family that waited for her at home every time she returned from a case, for Spencer, perfection was vastly different. 

For him, perfection was the rich aroma of coffee that could cause someone’s insulin to spike because of the amount of sugar in it. The softness of a book page between his fingers, or the familiarity of a book he’d read before but needed to revisit. 

Perfection was the sound of your laugh whenever he was the one to prompt the sound. The way your eyes lit up every time you listened to him babble on. Perfection was the time he got to spend with you every day, every hour, and every minute that he could remember with almost scary accuracy. 

He could sit and wonder what the perfect way to go about this was, but there simply wasn’t one, there was only the truth. And as painful, hopeful, or even a little dumb as it was, that was the best he could give.

And maybe that’s what his mind should focus on instead, the truth, in its simplest form, at its core the truth he’d hidden for months, and then the truth he’d hidden for years. 

He had wondered long enough if he’d made the right choice. He spent plenty of time focusing on the shame he’d felt, prompted by the disappointment he’d seen in his friends’ eyes whenever they brought up your name. How he’d sit, silent, or give an answer so short and angry, it’d add even more shame to the one he already felt. 

Beyond his time in prison, where he spent most of his time questioning his decisions, he spent years before that questioning himself as a person. His place on the team, his intelligence, even his failings. His inability to form relationships where he’d be seen as more than Dr. Reid, or the skinny kid, pretty boy, or a genius. A relationship that’d make him feel like simply Spencer, without the added adjectives, that sometimes made him feel like a circus clown. 

Only when he’d been locked up, had he started to realize that he’d finally built a relationship with someone with whom he could be himself. The most basic, boring, and peaceful version of himself, and slowly, all had started falling into place. 

How content he felt whenever he was around you, the desire to tell you every good or bad news he received. How when you asked about his mother, it warmed his heart, or how worried he felt when you acted stupid in the field. How out of control he’d felt when you’d gone missing last year. Or even, at the time, the unexplained jealousy he’d felt seeing you talk with another man.

Morgan had asked, once, twice, a lot, if maybe he didn’t have a crush, but he’d denied it, every time. And every time he’d question himself, he'd dismiss the idea just as quickly. 

Yet, upon being forced away from you, the pieces had started mending into one. 

Every realization he’d had was like a new broken piece being glued to the overall mosaic. And every new piece added built everything he felt about you. And it was a lot, and it was overwhelming, and so, so right, it sometimes felt wrong. Because he was inside a prison of his own doing, and you were out there, made to wait for him, for an explanation, for the truth. 

And he’d vowed to himself that the moment he was out, he’d put everything on the table, no matter how much he’d fucked up or how much he’d hurt you. He’d sit there, and he’d let it out, and if necessary, he’d even beg for your forgiveness. 

Because there wasn’t a moment in this life, he wanted to live through, without you there with him.

Your POV

You pulled the trigger, your eyes focused, and your hands steady. Three consecutive shots were fired, each one hitting its intended target. Three more followed, and then as many as it took to empty the magazine. 

You put down the gun and took a deep breath, steadying your heartbeat, trying to rid yourself of the deep-seated anxiety you felt. An odd sense of calm overtook you whenever you found yourself at the shooting range. Maybe it was the everpresent scent of gunpowder or the quiet only disturbed by the firing of a gun. Or even the possibility of escaping your rising thoughts, the desire to run or scream, sometimes both. 

There was a sense of solitude there that almost made it easier to breathe. The repetitive motion and the weight of the gun in your hands felt like second nature. 

Front sight, trigger press, follow through, just like Hotch had taught you all those years ago. As long as you held that gun, your mind was quiet, and you focused on something other than the worry you felt. 

It made sense you found yourself there shortly after Emily had shared the long-awaited good news - Spencer was finally free, and JJ, Penelope, and Luke were on route back with him. For a short moment, you’d felt the weight being lifted from your chest, and then it dropped again, now tripled. 

Suddenly, your earlier conversation with Emily had gotten as real as the target before you. Even with the sense of peace, you’d felt after, your thoughts on the matter clear, you still felt a sense of dread at the idea of seeing him. 

As if he wasn’t your best friend, the man who’d long ago won your affection and captured your heart, but rather a stranger who held your future in his hands. And he might as well be, because whatever the truth to the questions you wanted answered was, one thing was for sure.

It’d either make or break you both.

You picked up a new magazine, and loaded the gun, aiming at the target before releasing the safety. Before you fired again, you released a breath, and with it, all the feelings within you - fear, uncertainty, yearning, and the sense of madness, which, although mild, was persistent.

You fired once, twice, your aim impeccable, and then, out of nowhere, you missed. 

The hair at the back of your neck rose, your heart rate quickened, and the feeling of another’s presence in the room was unmistakable. It took you just a second to put the pieces together, the intrusion felt like anything but that. 

Instead, for a brief moment, the person brought with them a familiar feeling of calm. In the next instance, though, reality came crashing like a tidal wave, and you knew you’d run out of time. 

Your hands shook as you put down the gun. You could feel him watching you, probably standing next to the door, as if he couldn’t will himself to move closer. The anxiety was palpable in the air, although you couldn’t really say if it was yours or his, most likely, it was a mix of both.

You went to reach for your protection but hesitated. Once you took it off, there’d no longer be an excuse for you to ignore him, you’d finally have to meet the reality he’d so carefully crafted for you.

Even though you felt like you could barely breathe, the desire to finally lay your eyes on him won out. 

Without missing another beat, you took off your earplugs and then your eye protection. You could faintly hear the sound of shoes squicking against the floor. He could never stay still when he was nervous.  

You picked up on the sound of your own breathing too, the beating of your heart was almost erratic. You were waiting, what for, you weren’t sure. 

He was waiting too, for you to turn around, to lay his eyes on you. Like a sadist, waiting to see the pain he’d caused, or a masochist, wishing for his own in turn. 

70 days of slowly killing you both.

When you finally dared to turn around, it took you a moment to fully take him in. He looked like the Spencer you knew, yet there was something different about him too. Dressed in his usual suit and tie outfit, he didn’t look comfortable. His posture was rigid, almost defensive. It wasn’t a conscious decision, that much you were sure of.

His hair was longer, pushed back, curling at the ends, and he’d lost some weight. Not much, but enough to make an impression after all this time. He looked pensive, like the weight of the world sat on his shoulders, but maybe it was just the weight of the consequences he had to face.

Your eyes ran over every inch of him multiple times, intentionally avoiding his gaze for as long as possible. Seconds and minutes passed, and you weren’t really sure how much exactly. 

Spencer knew, though, of course, he did. If his fear of meeting you eye to eye was as great as yours was, you knew he was counting until the torture of the act itself was over. 

89 seconds he’d counted, although now with you there, they felt longer than the days without you did. 

When you eventually met his gaze, you felt a part of your heart chip on the inside. What people said about the eyes being a portal to one's soul couldn’t have been more right in that moment. Spencer, a man who excelled at hiding his emotions when he really wanted to, had let them out as clear as day for you to see. 

His eyes sparkled with so much sadness and guilt that it threatened to take you apart even before he had the chance to talk. Something softened within you at that moment, but in the next instance, it was like someone else took over. 

One moment you wanted to cry for him or with him, and the next you felt like your whole being needed to be let out. 

“Is that…is that all you can offer me right now? More of your silence? Don’t you think I’ve had enough of that?” The questions, a few of many to follow, had a bite to them. 

His face fell a little, taken aback by your tone. He fidgeted with his fingers, unsure what to say, or where to start. How could he answer your question? He pictured a scenario where his words flew freely, where he gave you an explanation worthy of forgiveness and a confession, so earnest that it ended with you in his arms. 

Try as he might, the words didn’t come to him, just a barely audible accusation. 

“That’s not fair.”

You scoffed, as if in outrage. A madness, one born out of so much heartbreak, took over, it was blinding. If someone had asked you to explain yourself, you’d say that wasn’t you. You’d never be so forward, almost cruel, to him, but at that moment, being mad sounded so much better than being vulnerable. Like a shield, you weren’t ready to let go of yet.

“How exactly is this not fair, Spencer? It’s the truth!” you yelled, and you felt free, finally letting it all out. “You want to know what isn’t fair, though? The way you isolated me OUT of your life! For three months, I’ve had to stand on the sidelines and beg for scraps, just to know you were okay. Every pitiful look I’d get from the people I consider family felt like another stab to the heart. That’s what’s not fair!” You were screaming so loud. It was a good thing the range was soundproof, otherwise, the whole of the BAU would have been deep in your business by now. 

If he looked surprised by the accusation, he didn’t really show it. His posture took a turn, though. The rigidity disappeared, and in turn, it opened, as if the need to comfort you overpowered the uncertainty or the mask he’d had to hold while imprisoned. 

You didn’t want his comfort, not right now. Maybe later, when all was said and done, you’d get to have a normal conversation without the frustrations of the past. At that moment, you just wanted everything out of your system. You wanted the questions, the answers, and the truth. 

His silence continued as he started closing the distance between you. You wanted to move, to create more distance, but there was nowhere to go. You were squeezed between the range, and him. Whatever else was left than to continue begging for clarity.

“It’s not fair being sent away the first time I came to see you. To learn you didn’t want to see me! Each time it was my turn to visit you, do you want to know where I was? I sat outside that fucking prison, wishing for a glimpse of the person who’s been my rock for 12 years! Holding back tears, thinking you didn’t…you didn’t care like I did. Is this what I really deserve after 12 years by your side?” You almost slipped, you almost told him, and maybe you should have, it might have prompted him to talk or to say something. But no, he stayed silent. Step after step, he limped, his cheek twitched, and his brows furrowed, but like a coward, he remained quiet. 

He was meters away from you, three more steps, and he’d completely close the distance, and meet you face to face. 

“Say something, Spencer, damn it!” Your throat burned from the strain, and he advanced even more. “Anything,” you finished in a whisper, and all of a sudden, all the fight left you, and your eyes watered and your vision went blurry. 

He was just a step away then, and when you looked into his eyes, you couldn’t help but see how they shined. 

He reached forward, one hand taking hold of your arm while the other went to hold your waist, but you shook your head. “No, Spencer, please,” you whispered. You didn’t want to find yourself in his arms, because that would be the last of your composure, gone. You’d surrender to the feel of him like you even had a choice not to. 

He didn’t stop, not until you were snug into his arms, one of his hands at the back of your neck, holding your head tenderly, but the arm around your waist held onto you as if he was scared you’d slip away from him. 

Once in his arms, you finally let go, breaking down into pieces, hoping he’d be able to hold them all from crumbling to the ground. 

“Hey, shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you.” He kept repeating, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your pulse point. All the while, you could only stand, your arms at your sides, as if paralyzed.

Being in his arms felt like being home somehow. It felt so right after having been deprived of the feeling for so long. It felt like there was nothing wrong, and nothing could go wrong at that moment. 

Even though you hadn't initially wanted his comfort, somewhere deep inside, you craved his tender touch. You craved the feel of his body near and the faint scent that was so uniquely him - a mix of coffee, fall, and old paper, books. You realized then that you craved the sound of his voice too, another part of him you’d been deprived of. 

The voice of the always rambling boy that never failed to bring a smile to your face, even when you couldn’t understand him sometimes. 

And the more he whispered, his voice broken and shaky, the harder you cried. You’d thought nothing could match the heartbreak of his actions or the anger of his silence, but the reality of being held against him brought the realization that your suffering mirrored his own. 

If you’d been dying on the inside for months, he’d been on the other side of the link holding you tethered to each other, dying just as much. 

And you couldn’t hold yourself back any longer after that. You buried your head in the crook of his neck, and your arms finally circled his waist underneath his suit jacket, fisting the back of his shirt as if it were your one lifeline. 

You felt him exhale when you finally returned his touch, most likely in relief, before he dropped a light kiss on your head. 

You cried for the relief of having him back and close. For unspoken truths and time wasted, years of figuring out feelings clear as day. For all the anger, for all of his silence, for all you felt for him. 

He cried for all the pain he’d caused you and for all the time he’d wasted being alone instead of being with you. He cried for himself, he cried for you, and he cried, overwhelmed by his feelings for you. 

You clung to one another, crying, and minutes were passing and neither of you cared. Not when you had each other. 

After a while, when both your tears dried out and your cries quieted, but you still felt the need to hold each other close, you dared to murmur a broken “Why?” hoping he’d hear, hoping he’d understand. 

It didn’t take him long to mumble a reply, no longer silent. 

“All the words in the world available, and I wish I could explain.” it came out just as quietly, both of you scared to break the little bubble you’d found yourselves in. 

You pulled back from him, wanting to look into his eyes, red-rimmed and still sparkling when you felt yourself begging again. 

“Then try, please, because I’d rather know, and not understand, than not know at all.” And it was the truth. He could speak in riddles if he wanted, but you needed to know why he’d made that choice. 

You looked at him expectantly before he pushed a piece of hair back, and his hand once again settled at the back of your head, gently cupping it. 

“I wanted you safe from a world you didn’t belong in,” he admitted on an exhale, like a lifelong secret he’d gotten tired of holding onto. 

You looked at him in wonder, and it was on the tip of your tongue to tell him he didn’t belong in that world either, but just as you opened your mouth to speak, he shook his head. 

“I was ashamed when I had you removed from the visitor’s list. I didn’t want you to see me like that, like a criminal,” he started, pulling you into his arms, not wanting to admit it to you eye to eye, out of fear of being right. Of course, he was wrong, but that didn’t stop him from wondering. 

“The first time JJ visited me, they leered at her like they were being fed fresh meat, taking her in, committing her to memory. A cage full of animals. I knew then that I didn’t want that for you, and any guilt I had at keeping you away disappeared that day. It hurt me, knowing I was failing you and whatever trust you had in me,” he whispered, wishing to keep the reality of his thoughts and his feelings in a little bubble as if you only existed in it.

“I’m not the same person I was before, I couldn’t be him, even if it meant losing a part of myself in the process. I couldn’t really be a decent human being without bearing the consequences. Everything I saw, everything I did, and everything that was done to me, I don’t think I’d ever fully be the person I was before. And that too, I’m thankful I spared you from seeing.” It would explain his rigidity, a defense mechanism he’d had to get used to. 

And while everything he’d said thus far was true the biggest truth, he’d had yet to say. He had yet to really explain why he’d done what he’d done in the first place. He was stalling, still afraid, but the longer he held you, the longer he felt your heart beating in time with his, the more sure he became. 

To hell with the consequences, to hell with whatever happened after, he was right here in the now, alive, breathing, his arms around you, finally at peace. 

He pulled back, took your face into his hands, and finally whispered.

“Most of all, though, I knew I loved you enough to risk us if it meant keeping you safe.” It left him in a rush, a confession waiting to be let out for months. A feeling he’d had for years, and a moment where he could finally be open about it. 

“What…?” you licked your lips, shocked that you might not have heard him correctly. ”What does us mean?” This part of the conversation felt like you were daydreaming about it, it just didn’t feel real. 

“It means whatever you want it to be. Whatever you want us to be.” All of a sudden, it was that simple. 

“So, you love me?” You had a hard time taking it all in, yet your heart fluttered in pure happiness. “And you…you want us?” 

"Yes.” Even before you were done speaking, he was already answering. He was desperate to finally admit he was absolutely smitten by you. 

Months of figuring out your feelings, years of hiding them, a conversation to finally prompt a confession out of you, and all this time it was reciprocated. You could have cried, happiness like no other coursing through you, pure bliss. 

You wanted back into his arms, you wanted to kiss him so badly that your blood was burning from the need to feel him like you'd never been able to before. And yet, you knew there was something else you needed to do before you could finally do it.

“Spence, you don’t push away the people you love, no matter the cost. You rely on their love to help aid you when you’re at your lowest.” You gave his sides a light squeeze before you looked back into his eyes, only to see them hopeful and uncertain at the same time.

He looked hopeful, for the possibility that you might actually love him back, but uncertain because it felt like you might be pushing him away this time. 

“I can’t go through this again. Having to watch you wither away, in prison, at home, or by your own thoughts, I won’t be able to handle being pushed away again,” whispers, cries, pleas, memories full of heartbreak intertwined with present confessions full of joy. 

His eyes watered then, his lips trembling. Any sign of hope was gone, and in its’ place stood the realization of a man who’d maybe gone a little too far. He’d pushed you away, and now, it was your time to be the one sticking and twisting the knife deep, breaking his heart in the process. 

If someone were to ask him at that moment what his biggest regret was, he’d say this. This was his biggest regret, his own choices. 

A tear escaped him, and you reached up, wiping it away gently before you spoke again.

“If..if this is going to go anywhere, you need to rely on me. You need to believe that I can handle anything and everything, just as long as you are by my side. All those years of being pushed away - your addiction, Maeve and Gideon’s deaths, your mom’s diagnosis, Cat Adams - you weren’t alone then, you aren’t alone now, and you won’t be alone in the future. You’ll always have me by your side, you’ll always have my support. Most of all, you’ll have my love, but when things get hard, I need you to lean on me, and trust that I can help you because together we can pull through everything, anything is possible as long as we are together.” You finished on an exhale, full-on crying now. You could barely see him, but from the little you could, you saw tears streaming down his face, and a smile that grew wide, happy.

Those words, he knew them word for word. For 13 days, he’d repeat them, no longer needing to see them written down, he had them engraved in his brain. Your letters he could recite, but your final one he’d remember as long as he lived. 

“I promise to lean on you and trust that you’d help me because together we can pull through everything, anything is possible as long as we are together,” he whispered back, his eyes searching yours for just a moment before he pulled you in, and finally, his lips met yours. 

He kissed you, tentative at first, testing the waters. He wanted to take his time, commit your lips to memory, gentle, and plump, exactly how he’d imagined they’d feel. The more he kissed you, the more he couldn’t stop. Passion, urgency, desire - his kisses turned desperate like he wanted to swallow you whole and never let you go. 

He bit your lip gently, asking for access, before his tongue intertwined with yours and he pulled you flush against him, closing any gap left between you. Chest, hips, there wasn’t an inch where you weren’t touching. 

It felt so familiar, even though you hadn’t kissed before. So right, like no one's kisses had felt before. As if your whole lives, kissing each other was the missing piece in a complicated puzzle, waiting to be put together. Coming together as one, it felt magnetic, a feeling of euphoria, pure ecstasy, no one else mattered, no other feeling mattered at that moment, other than your hands on each other and your lips locked together. 

Time was passing by, and you didn’t care. Years of missed opportunities, hidden feelings, and long-awaited realizations all led to this moment. Starved for each other, a kiss full of fervor and even the taste of tears was present. Unimaginable, but very real.

When you finally pulled apart, he wiped your tears, and you wiped his in turn, before he gathered you back in the comfort of his arms, laying a kiss on the side of your head.

And between the four walls around you, nestled in each other’s arms, the place where no one could touch you, in a shared breath you both whispered. 

“I love you.” 

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In Every Trio, There's Always A Duo

John Price X Reader

You were following behind Soap and Ghost, keeping a close eye on your surroundings while watching their six. Soap was on Ghost’s left, you were on his right, so how could they have gotten to you so easily?

A/N:this is probably the angstiest fic I've written in a while lol, the idea popped up in my head after scrolling tiktok and now I'd like you all to suffer with me(also I know I promised the Gaz fic first, it is coming! I promise!) warnings:mentions of blood, injuries, wounds, gore, depressive thoughts, thoughts of suicide, mentions of death

Price had been the one to introduce you to everyone, saying that you were the newest member of their team. Gaz welcomed you with open arms and even offered to show you around so that you wouldn’t get lost. Soap was happy to greet you, talking too quickly for you to understand even half of what he’d been saying. Ghost was a little more closed off, friendly enough to say hello and introduce himself but didn’t go out of his way to be your friend. It was something you were used to, men in the military were one of three things. Friendly, flirty, or standoffish. While Ghost wasn’t your typical “I’m better than you” military meathead, he wasn’t an open book.

It was all fine though, you had gotten close to the rest of the group and made friends with all of them quick enough. Alejandro and Rudy were much friendlier during the first meeting, Rudy and you swapped recipes and talked about your interests. Ale joked that you would end up stealing his best friend right from under his nose. Of course you would never do that, stealing someone else’s best friend was a big no no in your book.

“I would never steal him away from you! Best friends are sacred.” You smiled over at Ale, watching the way he became flustered ever so slightly.

“Well, thank you then.” He wasn’t sure what to say, most people teased them for being such close friends, this was a nice change.

“Of course, no need to thank me.” Rudy pulled you back into the conversation, explaining how to properly cook one of his mother’s best dishes.

It went on like that for months, you making friends with everyone on the task force, along with Ale and Rudy. When everyone would go home for break you didn’t leave, assuring everyone that you would leave the following day. No one needed to know that you didn’t want to go back to your family, their toxicity pushing you to where you were now. Your mother had been an alcoholic your entire life, your father no better when he actually bothered to come around. Your brother had up and left the moment he turned eighteen, leaving you behind to suffer.

No one needed to know what happened in your past, to them things were good and you had a loving family. They didn’t need to know that you had nothing left waiting for you, no family, and no friends for if you succumbed to your death during a mission. You’d wanted to tell them the truth so badly, that you truly weren’t alright, but you couldn’t.

You were out at the bar with everyone, sitting between Gaz and Soap. The Scot had interrupted you nearly five times now, voice booming as he recalled a tale about how Price had embarrassed himself during a mission. You bit your lip, sinking into your seat and not bothering to try and speak up anymore. The night continued on like that, everyone talking about different things as the drinks flowed. You’d even learnt a little bit more about Ghost, how his parents weren’t the nicest of people, how he’d done what he could to help them. It reminded you of your own situation, abusive parents that refused to take accountability.

It continued on like that for months, you would head out with everyone and continue to turn into nothing but a shadow. Seven turned to six, six turned into five, and soon enough it was only you, Ghost, and Soap going out. Price was too busy with paperwork, Ale and Rudy had their own duties to attend to, and Gaz was seeing someone. You were happy for Gaz, he was a total catch and anyone with eyes could see how attractive he was. Though you missed his corny jokes at the tables when you’d go out. Soap was the main jokester, Ghost throwing in a few from time to time to throw the Scot off his game.

It was strange seeing Ghost without his mask, the first time your jaw dropped open but you refused to comment. Nothing more humiliating than bringing up someone’s scars to them when you’re in public. He ignored everyone who tried to flirt with him, shutting down their advances with a “not interested” before they could utter another word. That same night they left you behind at the pub, you’d gone to the bathroom to relieve yourself before heading back. When you walked out the table was empty and cleaned, surely they were waiting outside. However once you stepped foot outside you noticed the truck you’d all driven in was gone as well.

Your throat closed up as you realized they had completely forgotten you, the base was over ten miles away. Refusing to try and call them, you tugged your jacket closer to your body and made the journey on foot. Price was still awake when you arrived, feet nearly bleeding from the blisters you now had, and tears running down your face.

“Sweetheart? What’s going on?” Price abandoned his paperwork to rush over to you.

You lied and told him you were simply too intoxicated and had forgotten you had gone to the pub with Soap and Ghost, the two men soundly asleep in their own rooms. He didn’t look as if he believed you, but nonetheless he let it slide. You would tell him the truth when you finally felt ready. Instead of pushing for more answers he helped treat your wounds, and gave you some warmer clothes to sleep in for the night.

Your sleep had been restless that night, struggling to get over how much pain you were in physically, and emotionally. Maybe they had just forgotten because you hadn’t talked the entire night? Sure, that’s what it probably was.

Price kept you on light work for the next two weeks, letting your feet heal before putting you into weapons and basic training. You were being sent out on a mission in a few days and he wanted everyone to be prepared. You stuck close by Gaz and Price for the most part, not wanting a repeat of the pub again. Training was easy, you excelled with each weapon you were given and surpassed everyone else, even Ghost.

Laswell was happy with the progress you’d made since joining, happy to know you had integrated so well with everyone else on the team. It didn’t matter if she didn’t know the entire truth, or that you were miserable deep down. She lead the briefing for your next mission, you were to get the intel required and get out, taking out any hostels if needed. You were a little nervous, the last firefight you’d gone into had nearly gotten you killed. Had Rudy not yanked you down behind the pillar you wouldn’t be standing there.

The helicopter hovered as you rappelled down onto the ground, unclipping your belt and grabbing your gun. There was no one as far as you were able to see, though you couldn’t be too careful, enemies were trained to hide in plain sight. Price and Ghost lead the group, guns raised as they begin a slow but cautious walk towards the building. No one noticed the enemy as they slid from behind their own hiding spots. 

The bullets were raining down on the group before any of the guys or yourself could take cover. Price had thrown Gaz behind one of the pillars, Ghost doing the same with Soap to help prevent his teammate from becoming swiss cheese. Alejandro wrapped his arms around Rudy and tackled him to the ground, laying completely still until the sound of the enemy reloading calmed his nerves. It wasn’t until they realized that you were laying out in the open, screams ripping the air apart as you began to slowly bleed out. Ghost’s heart stopped, how the hell did they completely forget about another person! 

“Shit!” Soap turned to run around Soap’s bulky frame, grunting as Ghost grabbed the collar of his tac vest.

“You do that an’ you’re both dead!” Ghost couldn’t risk someone else getting injured, they needed to neutralize the threat.

“We need to save her!” Soap couldn’t watch you bleed out, it would destroy him.

“Stand down!” Ghost winced as the gunfire drew closer, they needed to retreat before they lost anyone else.

The group slowly retreated, watching the way your frame became smaller and smaller with each step they took. Ghost was gnawing the inside of his jaw, angry that he’d let something like this happen under his watch. Shit, they’d have to figure out how to get you back before you ended up bleeding out on the field.

“Ghost!” Gaz was staring over at the older man, eyes wide with terror.

The enemy had grabbed you, running off while they seemed to be too preoccupied figuring out a plan to stop them in their tracks. His blood ran cold, they were surely going to kill you if they couldn’t rescue you soon enough.

“Stop them!” Ghost raised the gun in his arms, aiming down the scope to try and get a shot off.

It was with a sickening realization that he noticed they were all gone, nothing but dust kicked up in the air as they fled. He’d always kept everyone safe, or as safe as he could when they were in enemy territory. This? This was his worst nightmare come to life, someone getting injured and captured because of his actions. How the hell had he not realized you were near him? While you were quiet when needed you always made your presence known.

“We’ll get them back, but we can’t go in with our heads up in the clouds.” Price was angry, they were split up into two groups. 

You were following behind Soap and Ghost, keeping a close eye on your surroundings while watching their six. Soap was on Ghost’s left, you were on his right, so how could they have gotten to you so easily?

“You let her get hurt, you were too busy keeping an eye on Soap that she got hurt!” Gaz stood up harshly, stomping over to where Ghost and Soap were crouched.

“Hey! Let’s not start going at each other’s throats.” Price grabbed onto his tac vest, stopping him before he could reach the other two.

“I saw it, she was walking too far from Ghost and instead of remembering that she was even there he saved Soap instead, and now she’s been taken by the fucking enemy!” Gaz was angry, angrier than he’d been in quite a while.

Ghost wanted to deny it, that he had been keeping an eye on you the entire time, but it would’ve been a dirty lie. It had been obvious over the last few months how little attention they ever spared you, especially him and Soap. The three of you would go out during your leave together and it was simply as if you didn’t exist to them. You were the third wheel during their conversations, trying your hardest to speak up only to be ignored.

Everyone had gone out for a night of drinks and dinner, mainly because Price all but demanded on getting off base for at least one night. Things had been silent for a little while and he needed to release some tension. You and Gaz were up getting drinks for everyone at the bar, the waitress already swinging by to get everyone’s order for food. Price had seen how sullen your expression was, the sparkle your eyes usually had seemed so dull now. Maybe this would help bring it back and things would go back to normal. You were his favorite(don’t tell Simon)and he would do his damndest to make sure you were okay.

“Sorry about the wait, bar was a little busier than expected.” You and Gaz set down all the drinks, being careful not to spill any liquid onto the, for now, clean table.

“No worries love, food won’t be out for a little while anyway.” Price smiled at the way your face flushed, proud that he could still have you blushing like a schoolgirl. 

The conversation seemed to flow easily with everyone, Gaz was telling a story from his teenage years that had everyone laughing. He’d embarrassed himself trying to impress a girl and refused to even look her in the eye afterwards. You opened your mouth to make a comment before Soap cut you off, the entire table echoing with laughter. Clearing your throat quietly you took a quick sip of your drink. 

The chatter died down once the food was brought out, everyone eating in near silence, save for the bustle of the restaurant around you. You wanted to talk about something, anything, but the timing never felt right. So instead of opening your mouth to talk you kept eating, your stomach turning slightly as you pushed the food around the plate. The chance to strike up a new conversation was dulled entirely once Ghost started talking about something. You didn’t bother to listen, eyes locked onto your plate as you tried to muster up the energy to keep eating.

Everyone was pulled into the conversation, offering their own bits and pieces here and there, everyone except for you. Why bother speaking to people who clearly didn’t notice when you did anyway? It would be a waste of energy and you needed to worry about what would happen on your next mission. Only you didn’t notice the way Price’s gaze lingered on you, a frown marring his nearly perfect features.

“If you don’t get them back, then I sure the fuck will.” Gaz knew the risks that rescuing you would entail and right now he was willing to take that risk.

“Kyle, if you go running in there you’ll be dead before you can get to her. I’ll go with you.” Price was willing to do whatever it took to get you back.

“Sir.” Soap felt terrible, had he kept a closer eye on you this wouldn’t have happened.

“No, we need to start thinking about how we’re going to rescue her, I’ll call Laswell.” Price turned and walked off without waiting for anyone to follow.

Ale and Rudy were horrified, they’d known the men for quite a while, having only just met you a few months prior, and watching the way this had gone down? It sickened them, but they wouldn’t voice those opinions out loud. They’d do whatever needed to be done to rescue you, to make sure that you came back home alive.

You, Ghost, and Soap were all sitting in the cafeteria, trying to enjoy the MRE’s that had been given to you earlier that day. A new shipment wouldn’t be in for a few more days so you were suffering through what had been left over. They weren’t terrible, but it was obvious why these were the ones left over from everyone else. Ghost and Soap had been keeping conversation going between them from the moment you sat down. You didn’t bother to say a word, simply ate your rather dry and tasteless food and waited for it to be gone so you could leave.

It was becoming more obvious as each day passed how little they liked having you around, from the way they would simply ignore you, to even brushing you off when you tried to join the conversation. It had stung in the beginning, but this was something that happened quite often, and you weren’t going to sit there and whine like a child. No, instead you learned to hide the disappointment and hurt deep down inside. If John ever found out how you were mentally, he’d have you discharged before you could even blink and stop him.

“‘M tellin’ ya! You nevah believe me!” Soap was laughing at something Ghost had said, you were sure of that, but the effort to even pretend to listen was too much.

“Oh will you stop with that? I don’t need to believe ya if I don’ want to.” Ghost rolled his eyes, shoving another forkful of…something into his mouth.

Neither of them had so much as glanced at you in the twenty minutes it had been since you’d sat down, another reminder that you weren’t wanted. Your throat closed up slightly, a sickening feeling clawing at your chest as you tried to keep the negative thoughts at bay. That was all wiped away when Price walked in, your back straightened immediately. It was a habit you had tried to break so often but never seemed to be able to.

“At ease soldier, just here to let you know that we’ll be headed out at 0400, so I suggest you get ready to go.” Price nodded at you before heading out.

You would all be debriefed on the plane ride over, it was something Price had begun to do so you went into the mission with the details fresh in your mind. Unless things were sensitive, then he wouldn’t run the risk of the wrong person hearing. Maybe this would finally be the mission you’d be left behind, a girl could have dreams right?

Soap was pacing the room, mumbling to himself to figure out how he could even try and get back on your good side. It was his fault that you were not only shot, but also captured. Price had gotten into contact with Laswell the moment they were back to safety. She was furious, asking how you’d managed to get captured when it was a simple recon. Gaz had exploded then, telling her how Ghost and Soap had been too caught up in each other to keep an eye on you. Price had to calm him down, nearly threatening him.

“There’s been an update, and before any of you say anything I need you to watch this and not rip out each other’s throats.” Laswell turned towards the screen, hitting play.

The screen was blurry for a few seconds before your slumped over form became clearer, it was obvious they’d done a shitty patch up job to your wounds. Your wrists and ankles were bound to the chair, blood dripping down your temple.

“If you want her back, we want something as well.” A voice, presumably someone behind the camera, spoke.

You laughed loudly, the sound surely causing your head to throb as you struggled to sit upright in the wooden chair.

“You couldn’t have picked anyone worse to ransom. Everyone knows I'm expendable on the team, nothing but a throwaway.” Your smile tore at Price’s heart, you looked defeated, ready for the comforting embrace of death.

They growled in anger, fist colliding with your jaw as a sickening crack echoed through the speakers. You groaned, spitting blood onto the floor with a huff.

“You don’t understand, they’re never going to come back for me. You’re better off letting me just die.” Your body was begging for death now, pain surging through every nerve ending.

The man turned towards the camera, angry that you seemed so unwilling to help get whatever they were so desperate for.

“You have two days.” The screen suddenly went black, leaving the room completely silent.

Price walked over to Laswell, afraid of what answer he was going to get for the million questions running through his mind.

“How long do we have?” The video wasn’t brand new, they would never actually give the men enough time to properly plan.

“Less than twenty four hours, we found her location from that bracelet you gave her a few months ago.” Ghost’s head whipped around, why was his captain giving you gifts?

“Everyone gear up, we need to get her back before it’s too late.” Price wasn’t going to waste another second, not when you were so close to death.

The plane was fueled up and ready to go by the time everyone headed out, briefing over the plan during the flight. Gaz would go in guns blazing if it meant saving you, and he’d force Ghost and Soap to wait until they got you. It was reckless to think that way of course, and being angry with his teammates wouldn’t do him any good either. Once you were back and safe with them he’d reprimand the other two. It didn’t matter that Ghost ranked higher than him, he’d give those two an earful they’d never forget.

“Rudy, do you have eyes on her?” Price walked over to check the monitor, a small sigh of relief when he saw your outline.

You were still breathing, the motions slow and labored as you struggled with each breath. Rudy was going to stay on the plane, keeping an eye out to make sure no one tried to sneak on. It was a risky move, especially considering he’d be sitting alone, save for Nikolai. They each geared up, checking their weapons ammunition to make sure everything was loaded.

“Hold down the fort til we get back.” Price slapped a hand against Rudy’s shoulder, nodding towards Gaz and Ale to follow him.

Ghost knew better than to argue, Price was their leader and right now he was definitely on his shit list. Soap wasn’t getting off scot free either, it had been both of them that caused this entire situation. No, the focus was solely on you, Ghost could deal with the repercussions later on when you were safe.

Their footsteps were silent, Gaz lockpicking the door before heading inside behind Price and Ale, guns drawn high as they looked around for enemies. The air was thick with tension, sweat beading up underneath Price's hat as he tried to keep his breathing steady. The sound of fists colliding with skin they picked up pace. They’d managed to find you quicker than expected, but what awaited them beyond those doors?

“Tell us where they are!” It was the same voice as your abuser from the tape, they were enraged at how you simply laughed at their anger.

“I’m tellin’ ya, don’ know shit.” You groaned as his fist collided with your stomach, doubling over in the chair as much as you physically could.

They’d been interrogating you for hours, doing whatever they could to get any information from you before they’d finally send you into the afterlife. The pain was excruciating, resonating through your body like a livewire. How long would you last before you would finally succumb to the wounds that adorned your skin?

The sound of gunshots echoed inside the tiny room, deafening you as the pain in your skull amplified by a thousand. You’d surely had a concussion, if the amount of times you’d been punched had anything else to do with it. The scent of gunpowder and blood filled the air, though you were positive almost half of the blood was yours. A hand grabbing your face caused you to flinch back violently, a terrified screaming ripping from your lips.

“Please! No more!” Whoever had killed your captors wouldn’t have the best intentions for you.

“Sweetheart it’s me, we’re here to get you.” Gaz’s voice was calm, even if his heart was nearly beating out of his chest.

“Gaz.” Your eyes filled with tears, staring back at your teammate and friend.

Price stood right behind him, eyes filled with worry at your state, they needed to get you to a medic immediately. Gaz cut through the ropes binding you to the chair, helping you to stand up. It became obvious that one of your legs was broken as you stumbled in his hold, grabbing onto your thigh with a vice grip.

“Fuck, I’m gonna let Price carry you to the plane, we’ll get you hooked up to an IV to get some fluids in you, alright?” You could barely nod but it was enough of a confirmation to hand you over to Price.

He lifted you gently, cradling you in his arms as Gaz and Ale lead the way back out. Ghost and Soap were checking for any stragglers, not wanting to leave anyone else alive. They hadn’t managed to find anyone, or anything else of importance when they met back up with you. Soap could see the way Price was holding you, as if you would turn into dust in his arms. The two men wanted to apologize, to beg for your forgiveness but with Price it wouldn’t be allowed. You needed to make that decision on your own.

“Alright, we’re gonna get you back to base soon enough,” Price had let the team medic take over, checking your vitals and setting up an IV drip.

Ghost opened his mouth to apologize before Gaz’s glare stopped him in his tracks, Soap quietly sat down in a seat without so much as glancing at you. Clearly some things needed to be worked out, and right now they weren’t going to be talked about. Ghost never backed down from a challenge, not when it came to his teammates. He’d gotten enough shit from Soap to last him a lifetime, lord knows the other man never knew when to stop.

That was the whole point though, wasn’t it? He was being taught a very important lesson about how blind he’d become. Maybe not literally, but Ghost was focusing on the wrong things and it was biting him in the ass now. Soap didn’t seem any better, silently sulking in his seat as he went through a million different scenarios in his head. How long had you been suffering in silence while they simply ignored you? How terrible of a friend was he that he didn’t even notice what was going on.

“We left her at the pub one night.” Ghost nearly missed Soap’s words over the engine of the plane.

“What?” His head whipped around, when the hell had they genuinely forgotten you during a night out?

“Remember O’Malley’s? It was that one.” Soap felt the guilt eating at his soul.

Everything began to hit him like a freight train, they were neglecting you both and off the battlefield. You were an amazing teammate and an even better friend and they’d completely taken you for granted. They didn’t know anything about you aside from that you’d joined the army at eighteen and were now with the task force. The first thing Ghost would do was apologize and do whatever he could to help ease your pain.

“We’re about to land, already let them know we’ve got injuries.” The routine medic, a man named Jacob that couldn’t be any older than twenty two, began to prep you for departure.

You’d need surgery to set your leg properly, the break was most likely a shatter which would cause an intense infection. Nurses ran out to grab the gurney, rushing you inside to get you prepped and ready. Price stood at the top of the ramp, back turned towards everyone else.

“You will not go near her at all, she’s going to need space to process and heal. Do I make myself clear?” Price glanced over his shoulder at Soap and Ghost.

“Sir I-” “I said, do I make myself clear sergeant?” Price couldn’t let his emotions take over, but losing a teammate because of someone else’s negligence.

“Yes sir.” Soap straightened up in his seat, ignoring the way he felt like a scorned child.

“Good, we’ll have a debrief once she’s out of surgery.” You wouldn’t be joining, but once he knew you would be alright Price could finally relax.

The doctor and nurses worked quickly to fix the broken bones littered across your body, extracting pieces of bone that had dug into the muscle of your thigh. It took them over five hours to fix you completely, relaying the news to Price. His shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, the worry that you wouldn’t pull through finally gone. Now it was all about making sure you healed properly.

Laswell called them to the debriefing, waiting until everyone was seated before beginning with getting every piece of information. Her expression didn’t give away any emotion of how she felt, it wasn’t the smartest thing to do, getting attached to the task force. She was a little upset with them though, being unaware of your surroundings could cost your life.

“Unfortunately, she’s going to have to be discharged..permanently.” Price slammed his hands down.

“Absolutely not! You are not sending her off after everything that’s happened.” How could they just throw you away so easily?!

“I’m sorry John, this is even outside of my own jurisdiction. She got injured during a mission and might not be able to walk properly for a few years.” Fuck, you were going to be devastated hearing this.

“If she’s gone, then so am I.” Price was risking a lot for you, but you’d saved his life countless times before.

Laswell sighed, running a hand over her face before heading off to contact god knows who and see if they could keep you as part of the task force. He hadn’t fought to get this team together for nothing, and he would do whatever he could to keep everyone together. Things would work out, they had to.

—---------

You’d been struggling through physical therapy, learning to walk after having your right femur reconstructed was not easy. Price had found you the best physical therapist in all of England, determined to make sure you made a full recovery. It warmed your heart that he was so willing to help, to make sure that you were safe. He’d been by your side for months, helping you settle into your apartment and all but moving into the spare bedroom.

“Sweetheart, you’re doing amazing.” Price was standing at the opposite end of the walk way, ready to catch you in case you lost your balance.

“Fucking hurts.” You winced, arms shaking as you struggled to keep yourself upright.

Price hadn’t wanted to tell you, but Ghost and Soap had wanted to apologize, to sit down and have a discussion about everything. He wouldn’t push the subject if you disagreed, you deserved to be treated with respect first and foremost. It would be better to wait until you were back in the apartment where you could relax. Maybe he could give you one of his sweaters to wear, you always seemed to relax when wearing his clothes.

Your physical therapist was happy with your progress, saying that you were exceeding expectations and could possibly go down to three days a week instead of four. It made you feel a little bit better, knowing you were doing so well. You hadn’t been in the apartment for longer than two minutes before Price was wrapping one of his jackets around your shoulders. It was something he tended to do when he had bad news.

“Now you have every right to say no, but Johnny and Simon want to come by and talk.” John waited to see how you would react, knowing physical therapy had been a good day he felt optimistic.

“What’s there to even talk about? That they don’t see me as anything other than an annoyance? John, we're having a good day, I don’t want to ruin it.” Your eyes were pleading with him.

He wanted to argue that this conversation needed to happen or else things would only get worse for everyone. So, instead of listening to your pleas of “don’t you dare call them” John let them know to come over. He’d make it up to you later with a great dinner and some dessert. After all it was the very least he could do after subjecting you to their antics. Hopefully Johnny didn’t end up saying the wrong thing and pissing you off even more.

—-----

No one had dared utter a word for nearly ten minutes once Johnny and Simon arrived. The taller of the two had forgone even his surgical mask, muttering how it felt wrong to hide. Johnny was twiddling his thumbs, waiting for someone to break the ice so that he could make amends. John had made you a cup of cocoa(extra marshmallows and whipped cream as always). Simon sighed to himself before straightening up in his seat on the couch.

“No amount of I’m sorries will ever be enough for what happened. We never truly realized how shitty our actions were because we’d gotten so used to routine that adding someone else didn’t feel natural. I’m not saying that as an excuse, you didn’t deserve what happened, and I fully blame myself for you getting taken and for all of this.” Simon gestured vaguely to where you were perched in what was apparently John’s favorite chair.

You glanced at Simon over the rim of your mug, sipping the warm liquid as you soaked in his words. Simon wanted to mention the dollop of whipped cream on the end of your nose, but John beat him to it. He reached over and gently turned your head to face him, wiping off the cream with his thumb. Your smile was radiant, eyes sparkling as you stared back at your captain. 

Oh.

Oh.

This was something entirely new, but it also explained why John had been so angry that you were going to be discharged originally. Somehow they’d convinced Laswell, and whoever else, that you were too much of an essential player to lose. You were in love, and here they were intruding on an otherwise very personal moment. John suddenly seemed to remember the other two were there, awkwardly clearing his throat before sitting back in his seat.

“It’s going to take a while before I can fully trust you guys again, I’ve been through a lot in my life but having my teammates basically throw me to the wolves? It fucking hurts.” Maybe it was time to finally come clean about your life and who you truly were.

You couldn’t stop the words from spilling out, telling them about your abusive home life growing up before finally making it out and finding a purpose in life. How on every break you would stay on base and make sure it looked like you’d left when they all came back home. You didn’t want their pity, you just needed them to finally understand why you were hurt by their actions.

John had carefully scooped you up and placed you into his lap when tears began to slide down your cheeks, comforting you the best way he could. Simon could understand your pain, having dealt with abuse from his own father growing up. It was a reminder that sometimes the strongest people were often hiding the darkest past. He’d done the same thing for years, refusing to open up and let anyone close.

“We really just wanted to apologize for treating you like shit, and wanting to make sure that you were doing better now.” Johnny could see that even being shot, tortured, and left for dead that you still had that shine to you.

“I know, I’m just going to need time to process everything, it hasn’t been easy.” You wanted to forgive them, but deep down the feeling that it would happen all over again ate at your mind.

“I understand lass.” Johnny nodded, he would gladly give you time to process and even see if you could forgive him.

John set you back into the chair so he could walk Johnny and Simon out, promising to keep in touch if anything changed. He wouldn’t disrespect your decision, and with the other two being on board he wasn’t going to argue. Now it was time to sit and think about what he could make for you to make up for everything.

“Hey, I just want to say thank you for everything you’ve been doing, it means a lot.” You pushed yourself off the chair slowly, stepping over to John who looked seconds away from panicking.

“You don’t need to thank me love, it’s my pleasure.” He kept his hands out, ready to help in case you needed it.

“You’re doing a lot more than you might think, so yes, I do need to thank you.” You rested your hands on his shoulders, slightly winded at how far you’d had to walk.

John’s hands slid to your waist, pulling your body closer to his. He wanted to lie and say it was only because he was afraid you’d stumble. How would you react to hearing about his true feelings? Knowing that he’d harbored a crush for frankly much too long than was appropriate to be honest. Your gaze landed on his face, lips parted as you watched the way his eyes dilated ever so slightly. John couldn’t stop himself before he was kissing you, lips pressed softly against yours. You would be a liar if you’d said you hadn’t dreamt of this before, hoping that John felt the same way towards you.

You were the first to pull away, face flushed and lungs desperate for air as you clung to the cotton shirt John wore. A small chuckle slipped through his lips, fingers digging into your hips as he pulled your bodies closer.

“I’ve wanted to do that for quite a while if I’m being honest.” Your heart was racing, had you really heard him correctly?

“So have I.” You rested your forehead against his chest, relishing in the warmth he exuded.

Neither of you made to move from the kitchen, simply wrapped in each other’s embrace. You couldn’t forgive Simon and Johnny for causing the damage they did. But maybe they helped push you into the right direction. tagging: @gaylemonshark

[campingwiththecharmings]

aaaah, i knowwwww 😭😭😭😭 he's so hurt and wants to hurt her but he can't because LOVE. *cries softly*

thanks so much for reading bb, i'm so glad you enjoyed this!!

Just Friends (Part II)

PART I

AN: So this is hella angsty (for me, anyway), I am so sorry. Also, before y'all yell at me, please know there is a third part in the works lol

(Un-beta'd)

“You’re really not going to try to stop me then?” you challenge, your voice wavering a little. Fury slices through him at your words; what was this to you? A game? 

Rated: M+ (this is smut so, i mean, you’ve been warned?) Words: 2,471 Pairing: Santiago "Pope" Garcia x F!Reader Warnings: alcohol, cursing, kissing, semi-public sex, p in v, friends with benefits, angst. AO3

———

I’m yours, he’d said, his face buried in your neck as you’d come around his fingers.

Yours.

And he is. Wholly. Completely. 

He won't say the word though—can't say it. But he feels it, that much he can admit to himself.

He has no claim over you though, not really. Sure, he can play your body like a well-loved guitar, knows all your sweet spots—the ones that make you sing, that make his name fall from between your lips in breathy moans—but your heart? That, you keep under lock and key, hidden away with the darkest, most broken pieces of you. 

He gets it. Really, he does. He’s the same way.

Or at least he was.

Now, he’s yours.

‘Your’ what, though? Your friend? Your fuck buddy? Neither option seems to fit, especially not when you’re the one saying it. 

“Just friends,” he mutters, scoffing as he lifts another shot to his lips. 

The liquid burns as it slides down his throat, warmth spreading slowly through his chest. He closes his eyes, savoring it, savoring the momentary silence in his head. He’s tired, so tired. Tired of feeling this way, of having you but not having you. He’s not sure how much longer he can do this, ignore his feelings.  They’re overwhelming sometimes, especially when he’s with you (and not even just when he’s inside you, but when he holds your hand, makes you laugh, when you’re pressed against his side on his couch as you watch a movie—).

He sighs, running a hand over his face. When he opens his eyes again, they catch on the bartender’s and he signals to her that he’d like another. She nods, acknowledging his request before turning away to grab the bottle. He studies her absently as she makes her way over, her lips curling in a sultry smile. She’s cute, but not really his type (no one but you is his type these days, it seems). 

“You alone?” she asks when she reaches him, eyeing him appreciatively as she pours him another shot.

He nods in response, muttering a ‘thanks’ as he brings the glass to his lips.

“Wanna change that?”

He wants to laugh, almost does at the cheesy pickup line, but he doesn’t want to embarrass the woman. 

“I’m good,” he says instead, smiling as he nods at her in thanks. 

She pours him another, looking at him from beneath her lashes. “You sure?”

He hums, nodding again as he fingers the rim of the glass. “Positive.”

“Okay,” she shrugs, leaving the bottle on the bar within his reach. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

He doesn’t respond, just watches her back as she walks away. He needs to get out of here, clear his head. Sitting up on the stool, he grabs his wallet. He pulls out some cash and tosses it on the counter beside the bottle. As he moves to stand, he catches her eye again, noting the flash of disappointment in them. Nodding goodbye, he turns to exit the bar.

The air outside is humid, a vast difference from the coolness of the bar. The streets are relatively empty given the hour, only a few people meandering about. He walks slowly, aimlessly, in no particular direction. He just needs to think. He doesn’t know what to do about this, about you. He wants you (God does he want you) but he doubts you feel the same. Maybe you just need more time, time to figure out what he already has—that you belong to each other, with each other.

A car’s horn honks as it passes him, jolting him from his thoughts. He halts, glaring at it as it passes and mentally cursing at whoever is behind the wheel. When they round the next corner, he sighs, defeated (in more ways than one). Running a hand through his hair, he takes in his surroundings and sees….you. There you are, sitting at a table at some restaurant, chin cradled in your palm. 

He hasn’t seen you since the other night at the bar, and it seems like fate that he’d stumble across you like this…that is, until he realizes you’re not alone.

Possessiveness burns in his gut at the sight of you with another man on what is clearly a date (a bad date, if your bored posture and fake smile are any indication). The waiter stops by, effectively distracting your date and you take the opportunity to excuse yourself, heading toward the back where he assumes the restroom is.

Resolved, he walks over to the door and pulls it open, stepping into the room beyond it. He tells the hostess he’s meeting friends who are already seated and she waves him in, telling him to come back if he can’t find them. Instead, he heads straight for where he saw you heading a moment ago, down the back hall and into the women’s restroom.

You’re at the sink when he opens the door, hands braced on the counter as you stare at yourself in the mirror. When you spot him, you spin around to face him, eyes wide with surprise. 

“Santiago,” you breathe, something unreadable in your eyes. “What are you doing here?”

He shrugs, leaning against the wall behind him. “I was walking by, saw you in the window.”

You bite your lip, looking away in what he can only describe as shame. “I’m on a date.”

Something in his chest cracks at your words, the confirmation of his suspicions. “Yeah, seems like it’s going well.”

You cross your arms over your chest, suddenly defensive. “We were actually just about to head back to his place.”

His nostrils flare at the implication, jaw working as he fights to keep his anger at bay. “Yeah? Well, I hope you have a great time.”

You scoff, eyes narrowed as you push off the counter. “Oh, believe me, we will.”

Silence permeates the room as you simply stare at one another, unsure of what to do next.

“You’re really not going to try to stop me then?” you challenge, your voice wavering a little.

Fury slices through him at your words; what was this to you? A game? 

"No,” he growls, stalking over and pinning you against the counter with his body. “I want him to fuck you, cariño. I want him to fuck you so you know I can do it better."

Something that looks a little too much like hurt flashes in your eyes and a part of him—the part that’s still your friend, the part that wants to be more than your friend—instantly regrets his words. But there’s something else there too, something that’s clearly aroused by this, and he wonders just when this had all gotten so fucked up.

The scent and feel of you is overwhelming, especially given where his thoughts have been all evening and he can’t stop himself from leaning in and kissing you, your breath hitching as he covers your mouth with his. You don’t stop him when he licks inside, instead sighing as you wind your fingers into his hair. He grunts when you scratch your nails against his scalp, his hips jerking involuntarily against yours. You break the kiss with a gasp as he grinds his half-hard cock against you, his name falling from your lips in breathy sighs. He drags his lips down your neck, teeth worrying a mark onto your skin, one he can’t help but hope your “date” sees. 

You claw at his shoulders, trying in vain to bring him closer as you grind against him. He smothers his groan in your neck, lifting you onto the counter and pushing himself between your legs as he returns his mouth to yours. He swallows your moans as he shoves his hands beneath your skirt, his fingers trailing up your thighs. When he makes it to your panties, he wastes no time hooking his fingers around the waistband and pulling them off, stuffing them into his back pocket. You moan as he runs a finger through your soaked folds, hips tilting as you chase his touch.

He briefly considers teaching you a lesson—of bringing you to the edge and leaving you unsatisfied, to go back to your “date” with your cunt throbbing and your slick running down your thighs—but when you beg so sweetly for his touch, for his cock, reaching out to fumble with his belt and the button and zipper of his jeans, he realizes he could never deny you anything. 

He’s yours, after all.

You grumble as you struggle with his jeans, the waistband getting stuck on the swell of his ass as you try to push them over his hips. He sniffs a laugh, moving your hands away and pushing the offending material down his legs. You take him in your hand, pressing your forehead against his as you watch his face from beneath your lashes. He groans at your touch, eyes fluttering shut as he loses himself in the feel of you. Your breaths fan against his lips as your hand moves up and down his shaft, your feet notching at the backs of his thighs to pull him closer.

“Santi, please,” you breathe, his cock still clasped in your fist as his eyes open to meet yours.

He grunts, reclaiming your mouth as he palms your hips, pulling you to the edge of the counter. As he moves you closer, his cock bumps against your wet slit, ripping another muffled moan from you. You squeeze him in your fist, dragging him through your folds and down to your entrance. He groans, hips involuntarily pushing forward, seeking your warmth. You whine when he stops, just the tip of him inside you. He stays that way for a moment, enjoying your breathless pleas in his ear. 

When he finally pushes into you, it’s quick, hard, punching the breath from your lungs. He snaps his hips into yours repeatedly, his cock hitting you so deep you can probably feel him in your stomach. You cling to him, legs wrapped around his hips as he plunges into you, holding him in place so he can’t leave you (as if he would). You’re close already, the tell-tale flutter of your cunt dragging choked groans from him.

He’s not gonna last, he thinks, not when you feel this good around him, not when you’re so wet he could drown in you (would drown in you, if you’d let him). 

“Fuck. Santi, don’t stop. Please.” 

His pace falters at the desperation in your voice, but he regains it, fucking into you even harder as he whispers encouragement into your ear. You come apart with a choked moan as his thumb circles your clit, cunt spasming around his cock. He tries to keep up the pace, fingers digging into your hips as he fucks you through your orgasm. The feel of you around him is just too much though, and before he knows it, he’s spilling himself inside of you with a growl. 

He holds you for a moment as you both come down, your face buried in his neck as you catch your breath. When he moves to slip out of you, you tighten your hold on him, fingers fisting in the back of his shirt as you hold him against you.

“Not yet,” you whisper into his skin, your voice sounding a little shaky as you cling to him.

He nods, wrapping his arms around you as he tucks your head beneath his chin. 

“You okay?” he asks softly, pressing his lips to your forehead.

You whimper in response, shaking your head.

He sighs, running his hands soothingly up and down your back, content to just hold you, to be whatever you need him to be. After a moment, your hold on him eases, fingers untwisting from his shirt as you slowly pull away. When you meet his gaze, there’s a sadness there he hasn’t seen before. He furrows his brow, hand reaching up to cup your cheek. You lean into it, seeking his touch like a flower seeks the sun. He swallows thickly as you melt against his palm, your eyes falling shut in contentment, and for a moment, he dares to hope.

He should say it, he thinks, say what he’s been denying for months, what he feels. 

I love you.

It’s on the tip of his tongue, his lips parting, air filling his lungs as he takes a breath—

A loud knock at the door cuts across the room, abruptly bringing you both back to reality. The words are still there, ready to fall from his lips but there’s panic in your eyes now—panic at being discovered like this, but also panic over something else. He watches you close yourself off, pulling away from him in more ways than one, and another piece of him breaks.

He shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t have done this, shouldn’t have said the things he said. 

Regret burns in his throat like acid and he can’t believe he almost told you, like somehow it could make up for coming here uninvited, for the things he said that hurt you. 

“I should go,” he rasps, not meeting your eyes as he tucks himself back into his pants.

You’re silent as you slip off the counter, pushing your skirt back down over your thighs as your feet touch the floor. Once he’s finished, he hesitates; he doesn’t want to just leave, not after what just happened, but he also can’t stay. Hell, he can’t even look at you right now.

“‘Night,” he says, throat choking on his words as he makes a beeline for the door.

He practically runs through the restaurant and back out onto the street, afraid you’ll follow him…and also afraid that you won’t. He’s never hated himself more than he does right now. What had he thought was going to happen when he went in there, anyway? Had he really thought that you were going to just suddenly confess that you had feelings for him too? You were on a date with someone else, clearly that’s not the case. Anger surges through him again at the thought of anyone but him putting their hands on you, of kissing you, of fucking you, of making you laugh, seeing you smile (your real smile, not the fake one he’d seen in the window)—

He stops walking, leaning up against the building he was passing as he tries to catch his breath, tries to keep his thoughts from completely spiraling. 

“Fuck,” he mutters, running his hands through his hair.

Not knowing what else to do, he heads home, intent on filling the empty hole inside him with the biggest bottle of whisky he has in his liquor cabinet.

Review (pretty please)?

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[kiwiana-writes]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

A big ol' fuck you to @rmd-writes for the tag xoxo

1. How many works do you have an AO3? Lol. Lmao even. 289.

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 914,620 on AO3, but that includes co-writes as well as things I've podficced where the fic and pod are in the same work. My actual personally-written wordcount, per my Batshit Spreadsheet, is 771,819.

3. What fandoms do you write for? Mostly RWRB these days, though most of my back catalogue is Schitt's Creek. Also The Pairing and various other things scattered about.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Kinda think that I might be his type aka Alex and Bea fake date coming in at the top spot, which will never not bewilder me. Don't get me wrong, it's a lovely fic!! But I am always surprised that it was a few hundred more kudos than:

With so much of my heart (that none is left to protest), the Much Ado actors AU. My magnum opus, my beloved.

We were supposed to find this - baby's first soulmate AU and my first RWRB fic. The brainrot really took hold with this one lmao.

All the Lonely Starbucks Lovers, in which Henry takes 'open mouth insert foot' to a whole new level.

Warm like the glow that you feel head to toe, the age gap fic with older Senator Alex and younger Prince Henry. This is probably the only one in my top five that really surprises me, considering age gaps are... divisive.

5. Do you respond to comments? Always always always.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I mean I did write that one MCD fic in Schitt's Creek, though I maintain the other five parts in that 5+1 are in fact angstier than the MCD ending.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Uhhhhhhh, the rest? The Doylist answer is any of my fics where the HEA is literally forever rather than 'till death do us part'; so, the Schitt's Creek afterlife AU and the RWRB zombie!Alex AU. (Is that all? Am I forgetting one?)

8. Do you get hate on fics? Yeah, sometimes. Weirdly, more through tumblr anons than on the fics themselves? A lot of them I just delete, sometimes I'll give them a bit of a public scolding etc. Frankly at this point if you come into my ask box to be a cunt on anon I'm going to assume you have a public humiliation kink and will indulge you accordingly.

9. Do you write smut? Who's to say.

10. Do you write crossovers? I'm more inclined towards a fusion than a crossover (love a good media fusion) but I did write a short RWRB/The Pairing crossover for VoiceTeam.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not to my knowledge.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Nope. Someone did ask recently, so we'll see!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? HEAPS. @ships-to-sail is an ongoing collaborator, but I also did a bunch of "each write a chapter" type collabs in Schitt's Creek. Currently co-writing something truly fucking incredible with @indestructibleheart.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? IDK if it's a WIP by the strictest definition, but every day the likelihood of the SC kink!verse series being completed slips further away lol.

16. What are your writing strengths? Rae, you're the worst.

Smut, I guess? Giving people new kinks, apparently. Character voice. Also a very specific type of world-building where I explain nothing because the characters already live in that world and let y'all infer how it works, which came up a LOT on one of this year's Kinktober fics in particular and led to my spouse saying "okay so you're basically the Brennan Lee Mulligan of tree fucking", which is sure not a sentence I expected to ever be directed towards me, but here we are.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Anything original, apparently. Good thing I didn't quit my job to be a writer or anything OH WAIT.

(In all seriousness, though, I am genuinely shit at, like, plotting. And action sequences.)

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? If it makes sense for the character, sure! I'm enlisting someone who speaks it for anything more complicated than, like, a pet name - I've seen what Google Translate tries to spit out for my second language and therefore don't trust it lmao.

19. First fandom you wrote for? terf queen mcgee's property.

20. Favourite fics you've written? The RWRB fic specifically based on the episode The Husbands of River Song from Doctor Who. Hands down the best thing I've ever written.

I also fucking LOVED the Much Ado actor AU. My love letter to Shakespeare and theatre and queer joy.

-

Tagging @blueeyedgrlwrites @cactusdragon517 @cricketnationrise @firenati0n @getmehighonmagic

@hgejfmw-hgejhsf @indestructibleheart @inexplicablymine @notspecialbabe @orchidscript

@piratefalls @sherryvalli @sparklepocalypse @stereopticons @whimsymanaged and, as always, anyone who wants to play! 

[liminalmemories21]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

tagged by @screamlet (who I've been reading since at least 2010). Thank you!

1. How many works do you have an AO3? 48

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 711,517

3. What fandoms do you write for? 911 LS, and 911

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? Long Story Short (series) - LS A home isn't always the house we live in - LS It came without ribbons! - LS Always Wear Your Invisible Crown - LS Awful quiet here since love fell asleep - 911

5. Do you respond to comments? I really try to, sometimes I think they get lost in my inbox, but I do try.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? uh, none of them? I don't think I've written anything that doesn't have a happy ending.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? hmmm, maybe It came without ribbons?, or Knave 4 (The Knave of Clubs ... swears he'll take her part). They both end in marriage proposals.

8. Do you get hate on fics? Just a few on Knave 4, which I expected and mostly ignored.

9. Do you write smut? more often than I ever imagined I would

10. Do you write crossovers? I love a good crossover. Haven't written one yet, but would enjoy it.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I know of. Let's keep it that way. (finger's crossed)

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? no

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Yup! All the 911 stuff with @cecilyv - nothing better.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Well, I don't publish WIPs, not because I have an ethical stance on it, but because I'm usually still changing things at the beginning right up until I hit post and I don't understand how people post things as they write them. Not my process.

That being said, there's a LS kidfic that I'd like to finish some day, but every time I look at it I can't figure out where it's going.

16. What are your writing strengths? I feel like this is a thing other people need to tell me? Dialogue? Plot (apparently? or so 200,000 words of Knave-verse would like me to believe).

17. What are your writing weaknesses? brevity

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I'd like to do more of it, because I have characters I write who I think probably do think in another language, but it's not a language I speak, so I don't.

19. First fandom you wrote for? published? Lonestar. unpublished? there's a Merlin story @cecilyv and I wrote for years that is mostly not great, but has it's moments.

20. Favorite fics you've written? ooh, okay:

There were a bunch I wrote early for LS that are kind of character studies that I love - A home isn't always the house we live in (Judd), Stitched with its color (TK & 9/11), and through same of am through haves of give (Enzo)

And, I'd be lying if I didn't say Knave-verse, because I think Knave 2 and Knave 4 are the best things I've ever written - and there is just so much of me in the way TK thinks about art.

And then Baggage That Goes with Mine - because there isn't necessarily me in there, but there is a lot of my history in fandom and the huge cultural shift that I have seen happen since I started reading fic in Tommy's story. Also, I do love me a split timeline narrative.

tagging @walkinginland, @rmd-writes, @alchemistc, @rcmclachlan, and @three-drink-amy

[tommarvoloriddlesdiary]

20 Questions (for fanfic writers)

i've been threatened via water gun if noncompliance is reached in regards to this post from @floatingdandelionseeds... so here we go!

how many works do you have on ao3? at least one... maybe eleven

what's your total ao3 word count? i have never once gone on the stats page, so this may put me into fight or flight... 45108

what fandoms do you write for? Harry Potter

top five fics by kudos: these questions were designed to hurt me. - like a parasite (kill my butterflies), - candle-lit garnet, - what's lost (what's gained), - Life Inside the Ministry of Magic, - flames and bricks of hearth

do you respond to comments? i try - i swear i try 😭 sometimes i get shy or never want to look at a fic again 😂 but i mostly try to!

what is the fic your wrote with the angstiest ending? ohh i don't write a lot of angst - but maybe it would be like a parasite (kill my butterflies) 🤔

what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? this was a hard choice... if it's not my most recent, then it'll be flames and bricks of hearth

do you get hate on fics? i don't, really - i'm very grateful 🥹 the only time it's happened was via a bot

do you write smut? 😳 i also don't write smut... publically

craziest crossover? i've never done a crossover! could be fun 🤔

have you ever had a fic stolen? i also don't know... i hope not 😭

have you ever had a fic translated? no - i doubt anyone would feel compelled to - and i don't think i'd do a proper job 😂 too many half languages in my head

have you ever co-written a fic before? no - well... technically, no? the @exquisite-tomarrymort-telephone is my co-writer on the most recent fic, but that's more of a front 😂

all-time favorite ship? tomarrymort for me too! (but i also like some of the other ones dande listed 😂 we have similar tastes)

what's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will? oh wow great question - this one? but i want to 😭

what are your writing strengths? my what?

what are your writing weaknesses? i can't write to save my life 😂 i don't know how to end things or keep them going - i don't know how to plot things out - i'm a danger to the community - i get ideas that seem simple at first glance but are too complex so i get scared out of writing them

thoughts on dialogue in another language? dande brought up some good questions - i couldn't risk writing everything in another language without surely insulting an entire group of people - but if it's dialogue and there is a water gun to my head, then i guess i could probably do it? sorry to everyone who speaks.

favorite fic you've written? oh god - if it's not my most recent (recency bias 😂), then it would have to be Life Inside the Ministry of Magic - that fic doesn't take a lot out of me, even though i've got a really convoluted secret plot going on within it, which makes it wonderfully brainless fun 😂

is anyone else weirded out that there are only 19 questions?

i'm now supposed to tag some people but i'm scared - if you see this and i know you please assume i wanted to tag you

[welcometololaland]

almost uploaded a picture of my bank statement instead of this header! happy days!

thanks for the tags @hippolotamus @kiwiana-writes @happiness-of-the-pursuit @rmd-writes

@nancygillianmvp @terramous @tellmegoodbye @freneticfloetry @beautifulhigh

@orchidscript @myheartalivewrites and @strandnreyes (don't think that was a real tag but i'm taking it anyway to force you to love me).

1. How many works do you have on Ao3?

49 (last time it was 46 but i feel like that isn't enough of a difference? disappointed in myself dfhskjh)

2. What's your Ao3 bodycount word count?

1,119,086 which does include some co-writes, but I also have around 200k of unposted WIP in my google docs so i'm counting it (including a fully written fic - someone put their hands around my neck and force me to edit it PLEASE).

3. Which fandoms do you write for?

red white and royal blue, 911 lone star, top gun maverick (flirting with winter's orbit always)

4. Top 5 fics by kudos?

the order of these has changed but not the identity:

Speak for Yourself (RWRB) (you know when eminem said he'd never be able to top My Name Is? this is my version of that)

Fifty First Dates (RWRB) (oodie agenda reigns supreme)

The RIng-In (Lone Star) (otherwise, lone star is in danger of being eviscerated from this top 5 lmao)

(Not) A Cinderella Story (RWRB) (NDAs are hot, apparently)

Cursed is a State of Mind (RWRB) (cursed caffeine is the main drawcard let's not lie)

5. Do you respond to comments?

i try my absolute best to. i am currently really behind and i apologise for that (the problem is, i reply to comments before i post anything and i haven't posted anything in ages).

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

serious answer - Contaminated

my answer - oh baby i'm a fool for you because we never find out if they actually watch twilight and that's a damn shame

7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

literally everything else - i don't really do open endings or sad endings! in the words of the great philosopher, skepta: "nah, that's not me."

8. Do you get hate on fics?

i used to, but i haven't in ages! thank god for that.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

yes, although i have to say i've been moving away from pwp lately. i feel my best smut is written into longer fics where the sex serves a plot or characterisation purpose within the frame of the overarching narrative.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

yes, a RWRB/LS but i never finished it. ALTA is a veronica mars inspired tarlos fic which kind of feels like a crossover at times.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not to my knowledge :)

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

yes! Phonography (Lone Star) has been translated, as has Baby, Make Your Move (Lone Star) and Warm Whispers (Lone Star). I'm very grateful to the incredible people who have made these translations happen - you are so talented.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

yes, many with @dustratcentral. I also wrote a chapter of a co-written fic with a whole bunch of incredible RWRB authors called never the same twice.

@rmd-writes and I have created (Un)Professional Services and (upcoming) Call Me (By Your Name).

The Rainbow Fish was co-written with @strandnreyes.

I love co-writing so much and I am always open to anyone who wants to give it a go!

14. What's your all time favourite ship?

me + my unposted wips.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

probably the aforementioned crossover which was apparently also my answer last time.

16. What are your writing strengths?

i'm allergic to giving myself compliments but i would say maybe dialogue/banter and worldbuilding.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

keeping things short. also, exposition.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

kinda scared to because i don't speak any other languages and i'm so hesitant to annoy my very talented multi-lingual friends with my annoying questions.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

we don't talk about that.

20. Favourite fic you've written?

probably still Love Game because the experience was just so amazing and i never wanted to stop writing it.

heaps of people have already done this so leaving an open tag and also a couple of suggestions under the cut but apologies if you've already participated or been tagged 7 million times:

@bonheur-cafe @theghostofashton @thebumblecee @indomitable-love @eclectic-sassycoweyes

@tailoredshirt @vineofroses @liminalmemories21 @mikibwrites @birdclowns

@ladytessa74 @basilsunrise @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @rosedavid @sanjuwrites

@alrightbuckaroo @three-drink-amy @marjansmarwani @dumbpeachjuice @doublel27

@lemonlyman-dotcom @blueink3 @ambiguouspenny @clottedcreamfudge @emmalostinwonderland

@sail-not-drift @inexplicablymine @celeritas2997 @cricketnationrise @reyesstrand

@goodways @carlos-in-glasses @heartstringsduet @sunshinestrand @sherryvalli

[onebizarrekai]

Fic Author Interview

I've been tagged by @unmaskedcardinal! been a while since I talked about any of this stuff, particularly as a very inconsistent fic poster haha

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

the visible number linked to my account is currently 60, no idea if this is counting the bizarre saga from my archive account or not. technically I've posted more, but they aren't part of that number.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

567,314.

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

ibvs season 1 & season 2 are (thankfully) the top two on my account, considering they're… well. ibvs.

number 3 is formal humiliation, a utmv fic back in 2019 where I wrote 3 oneshots all with different pairs surrounding the same idea. it's uh, it's something.

4 is behave, a saiouma despair disease fic I wrote sort of ironically in 2020. I did not realize this weird oneshot would be the thing that jumpstarted my kage obsession.

5, for some reason, is glow, a ds fic I wrote in 2019. I do not know why this is the ds fic with the most kudos. I am just really glad that it's not one of the ones I wrote in 2018.

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

lately I have been trying to respond to more comments, if they're on a recent enough story and I can think of a way to answer.

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

most of the fics I've written right now have been Random Spot In Time fics with no articulate ending, but game over is pretty edgy. I think. I've written a similarly edgy ending but it's in an anonymous fic. it occurs to me that edgy doesn't necessarily mean angst, but it can.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

somehow everyone lived happily ever after in the bizarre saga, no f'ing idea how they managed that

7. Do you write crossovers?

I have. I have as comedies. I tend to take a bunch of guys and put them in a new setting that they definitely shouldn't be in. poopenster high is an example of this, but none of that has ever touched the internet and I haven't touched it in like 2 years.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

oh my god like. maybe once? maybe? I don't even think it counted as hate. I think like several years ago some rando complained that season 2 of ibvs was trying too hard to be funny. I barely remember what it actually said, I just remember it being annoying.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

when I was in my v3 phase I wrote some, I think "feelings with smut" describes most of it decently. the nature of the kcu meant it was like, almost all trippy.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I dunno. I hope not. I think I've had people repost stuff without permission.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

probably?? when I was a teen I had people say they wanted to translate my utmv fics, I don't know which ones actually followed through anymore.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

(sigh) yes.

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

oh god, I think I honestly just phase around stuff. I don't think I've ever permanently latched onto a pair, it's just that I've had fandoms and I have pairs that I've ended up liking in them and they just sort of stay that way even if stop paying attention to the fandom. I like most ships that happens to fit into my favorite criteria (that being protagonist/morally ambiguous deuteragonist or antagonist). if you asked me what my favorite series is, it would be an easier question. it's zelda. but I don't really have any permanent favorite ships in zelda.

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

this is a scary question because I have a number of major wips that I want to get back into once I get back into writing and I refuse to accept that they may not get finished. I don't know. moose hill? for a little while I wanted to see if I could come up with a whole side story, but it is extremely unlikely that will happen. maybe a better example is a continuation of shuichi and kage's blackout adventure, which is pretty low on the priority list for if my brain every gets infected by danganronpa again.

15. What are your writing strengths?

the jokes are very important. I put my heart and soul into them. I hope that people can see my vision when I tell them.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

actually doing the writing getting from point A to point B. I come up with this whole outline and realize there's 2000 words of empty space that needs to happen. and it's like dull shit, too. just plain old events. like look at them, it's the lunching hours again. because lunch is a thing that happens every day. is it redundant to have lunch too many times? it can't possibly! it's the only time they can talk to each other! do I need to pan the camera again because this 3 sentence exchange has dragged on for too long? help

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

makes sense to me. or like, depends on the context. if the POV is a character who can speak the language, the reader should probably get to know what they're saying (think like, subtitled sections of a movie), unless it's really easy to decipher. but if the POV can't understand it, the reader shouldn't necessarily know. it gets more complicated if it takes place in a setting where they should logically be speaking a language that is not english for example. like, if they're in a country where they are not speaking english but the fic is in english. it wouldn't really make sense to insert interjections in their home language because they're not speaking english in the first place. I guess it all depends on what you're trying to convey.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

sonic. does it count. I started writing once I was old enough to type. but I think the first story I ever put online was zelda.

19. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

on occasion I entertain the idea of writing for corpse party, but that's probably not going to happen.

20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

I'm going to not include that one anonymous fic and my pile of unfinished longfic wips that I've been proud of in past years is way too big so… maybe game over?? it's complicated. I have a ton of comedy pieces that I love but they're just… not completed!!

[ feel free to fill this out yourself if you're a fic writer! ]

[myokk]

20 q's for fic writers

tagged by @crushribbons love you Laney😙😙😙😙💓💓💓

How many works do you have on AO3? I am a humble baby writer so I only have three...so far

What's your total AO3 word count? 99,211...before I joined tumblr and fanart hell (affectionate) I was writing SO MUCH...I started in January bahahahahhahahahahahahah

What fandoms do you write for? Hogwarts Legacy, but in the future I'll probably do Tomione…beginning of death eaters super evil but sexy 1940s Tom Riddle making Hermione turn evil… (among others). Tbh (fanart-wise NOT writing) I also want to draw harvest moon…stardew valley…x files… I would love to attempt writing for P&P bc I have so many ideas, but I am too lazy to make sure they're historically accurate and it would drive me crazy if they arent so I'll just enjoy them hehe

Top five fics by kudos? I only have three published so far, but the most popular is my Ominis oneshot, legilimency. I have no idea how that one actually got readers...but I'm happy bc I really like it too and I reread it sometimes!! My main fic is actually doing a lot better than I expected too, bc when I started posting I was just shouting into the void and I wasn’t part of the community or anything🥹 the little excerpts I post here too, that go along with my writing, also do a lot better than I expected and it makes me so happy to read your comments💓

Do you respond to comments? yes!!!!! Comments/hashtags always make me SO HAPPY and these interactions are the fun of sharing these things with you all. I get swamped by notifications sometimes so I might respond super late but I always try to bc I LOVE YOU ALL SOOOOOOOOO MUCH!!

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? my main fic...I have a horrible ending planned but I might chicken out at the end and make it happy. in my fanarts I can make them happy so that might be enough for me...and I’ll go with the evil ending muahahahahahaa

What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? the Imelda/Poppy fic. Honestly it's not popular but it holds SUCH A SPECIAL PLACE IN MY HEART...it’s popular to me😤 I reread it a lot...my love letter to Imelda

Do you get hate on fics? I don't think so...If I do I'm out of the loop bahahahhahahahaha. Honestly I've had haters before on other platforms and it's not something that really bothers me bc if I don't personally know someone, I don't care what they think...and like Laney said...if they don't like something they should just make what they want to see instead lol

Do you write smut? yes😳

Craziest crossover? None I Am A Boring Girl

Have you ever had a fic stolen? not that I know of!!!!! But I also just started writing this year. I've had my art stolen sooooooo many times before though on IG and tiktok (not here yet that I know of…). If it's just copying my art I don't mind that much with these fanarts because that's how you learn and a copy will never look like the original but...

Have you ever had a fic translated? nope!!

Have you ever co-written a fic before? No but I'm collaborating with @versailles-black for fanart shenanigans bc our MCs are cousins🥹💓 plus the whole Leo/Bea thing with @the-ozzie …I’m actually considering writing a oneshot about the two of them so I think it counts!!

All time favorite ship I have two...Elizabeth/Mr Darcy have had me in a vicelike grip for my whole life...but so have Scully and Mulder...

What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I really really really want to write my Ominis longfic that's a continuation of my oneshot, but it's hard to find the time to write lately bc I've been so busy!!! like...even finding time to do these fanarts is a struggle these days. I still have hope I'll finish it though bc apart from ME wanting to read it there are a few others who are also looking forward to it!!!

What are your writing strengths? no idea🥲

Thoughts on dialogue in another language? I personally like it!!! But only if it's used correctly...I've seen Spanish in fics before where the person CLEARLY doesn't speak it and it drives me crazy, esp if the character is supposed to be Spanish-speaking. Or...when people add random phrases in with the rest English, bc as a bilingual person I feel like it doesn't really work like that lol. I added some Spanish to the Imelda oneshot I wrote and I like to read it when it's done naturally, and if anyone asks me for translation in the comments I’m happy to oblige🥰

First fandom you wrote in? Hogwarts Legacy is my first fandom ever bahahahhahahahahah

Favorite fic you've written? tbh I love all three that I've written so far!!!!!! I can't choose🥹🥹

Laney said there's no 20th question…I love you all😙😙😙

zerooo pressure tags for @kay9leo @writing-intheundercroft @heyitszev @noxxytocin and anyone else who thinks it would be fun to answer🥹💓😙💓😙

[bluevaractyl]

It’s “appreciate yourself” hours! Pick five pieces of writing/art that you’ve done that you love and talk about them! ❤️❤️❤️

Hi Skye!! I don't have enough art or writing to do five, so I'll do some of each.

Burning Skies: My first (and so far only) multichapter fic, in which I am very mean to Sky, the boys go dungeon crawling, and hugs are had. It has a lot in common with your Elastic Heart, I think. I took advantage of the setting and played with the Chain's items and monsters. Bouncing between perspectives was so much fun, and having people comment as I posted each chapter was incredibly rewarding. Zola drew some amazing art for it.

Courage comes in many forms: This is the silliest thing I have ever written. AoL Link learns the Cucco spell, with a bonus bit of LU at the end. Very short and good for a giggle. Zola also did art for this one.

Deterioration: For the ultimate whiplash, here is the angstiest, whumpiest thing I have ever written. I really don't know why it's on this list, but I only have six published fics to choose from, so here it is. I'm gonna preface it by saying that it's the result of me going, "Aren't you glad healthcare workers are so caring?" and my dumb angsty brain going, "Yeah, what if they weren't?" and running with it. Also me thinking too hard about how [spoiler] came to be. Hyrule becomes an unwilling test subject and has a terrible week. Someone get this boy a snack and hugs STAT.

Yes you've seen this before, but it's probably my best work. The Yiga from Dad Squad come for Sky Link and are unprepared to face the fury of a protective loftwing. I am still really proud of the pose and colors on the loftwing, and I still giggle at the Yiga. Link is blissfully unaware😌

And finally, the art I drew inspired by your Fluffvember snippet. You've seen this one too haha. Seeing it always makes me think of that fic and brings that same feeling of calm I felt that first time reading it. It's nice to know that I can draw fluff even though I apparently can't write it😅

I've drawn many things since these two, but none I've been so happy with. I guess you're my muse :3

[a-little-bit-of-ravioli]

20 questions for fic writers

Tagged by @the-real-azalea-scroggs! Had to wait until I was of my phone because doing these is a nightmare on mobile lmao

1. How many works do you have on A03?

18 as of a few days ago!

2. What's your total A03 word count?

157,937! Which is. Only a fraction of the word count in my Docs folder. Be prepared.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

I mainly write for The Legend of Zelda; specifically Linked Universe! In fact, that's all that's posted on my Ao3 currently, since my fall into that fandom began with me uploading there! Pre-Ao3 I wrote for Black Cat (Anime/Manga), Megaman NT Warrior, various Pokémon things, Assassin's Creed, Yugioh, Final Fantasy XIV and Octopath Traveler! Some of these I still write privately, but I haven't gotten around to re-posting any.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Whistling on Deaf Ears - My longest fic on Ao3, focusing on Wild and Twilight's friendship and how good intentions can lead to disaster.

Iconoclasm - Warriors deals with the room full of portraits in Cia's palace. The Chain also deals with it, but with a bit more fire.

Deserving - Twilight finally tells Rusl that he was the wolf in the village during TP, but that also means dealing with some heavier topics. Colin half overhears them and forms his own conclusions.

Something Greater - The start of the "Hyrule can see magical auras" series! In this one we deal with Legend and his many rings.

Ocean Magic - Mermaid Legend and Zora Time have a race and then fight one of the Big Octos from WW! Fun times.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Every single one!! I love comments, they give me an excuse to ramble about my fic more!! I am always down to ramble about every single insignificant detail of any line and/or section. If you ever want more background info about one of my fics, look to the comments!

So please, I adore comments, I treat them like treasures, not responding to them would be a CRIME.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

There's no contest; Inevitable, my (so far) only MCD fic.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Hmmm, that's hard to quantify. I usually try to end fics on a hopeful note regardless. I'd say possibly either Deserving, where Twilight reconnects with his family, or Shimmering Blue, Striking White, where Time meets the Fierce Deity settled down on Satori Mountain and they both get closure.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Thankfully, no! I've been blessed with mostly amazing and patient readers, even when my upload schedule isn't the best.

9. Do you write smut?

No, not really. I've attempted it, but I'm too asexual for it lol

10. Do you write crossovers?

Very, very rarely. Mostly privately, and only very specific ones. Only a single one has had an actual plot, so far (more on that one in question 15!).

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Nope!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Also a nope! I tend to write for smaller fandoms, where these things don't tend to happen a lot!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I have! But it's been a while. Over a decade, in fact! I tried to find the fic to link it here, but it was on the German fanfic website fanfiktion.de, and my friend who posted it back then must have deactivated her account, because it's nowhere to be seen (I still have the Word file though!). It was a Multi-Crossover that started as an RP in a forum, and we took turns turning the RP into prose one chapter each. "If a Hero Turns to Dark" was its title. We were edgy teenagers.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

Hissssss. Bad question. Shoo. They are all equally important!!

But it's probably TenRose from Doctor Who.

15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

One of the very few crossovers I've ever worked on; a crossover fic between Assassin's Creed and Doctor Who, that I have mapped out in both chronological and timeline order, and yes, those are different. I only ever wrote about a quarter of it, since my primary audience of it disappeared when we graduated. I doubt I'll ever pick it back up properly, and if I do it'll probably go through heavy rewrites first since it's so old. Finishing it is a nice thought, but realistically, after 9 years it'll never be high priority enough for it to actually happen.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue, especially arguments, and emotional impact. I've been told I do really well making characters feel alive and believable! Also I like to believe I'm decent at setting a scene and giving it the vibe I want it to have!

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I struggle with dialogue tags when nothing much is happening besides the talking. I always feel it's too bland, and fall back on the same phrases. My scene transitions could use some work too.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I've done this with Japanese phrases, because I was a massive weeb. Usually I followed them up with their own translations, though; I'm not the biggest fan of footnote translations, unless they are properly linked to. Simple dialogue tags are my favourite way of indicating a language switch.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Black Cat the Manga/Anime! It's a series about an assassin turned bounty hunter trying to live a life separate from his murdery past, but getting dragged back into things by still wanting to avenge his best friend's death. The series has a special place in my heart and my bookshelf, it left an imprint on 13-year-old me that will never leave.

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

Probably Jailbreak, uncharacteristically enough! It's one of the only fics I never got stuck in once. Writing it was a great feeling from start to finish. I love writing all of my fics, but that was a special few days.

Tagging @ahrva @nowhere-to-go-but-down @silvercaptain24 and @aeghina! And anyone who wants to do it, really, go wild

[they-reap-what-we-sow]

20 questions for writers

thank you for the tag @fanfictiongreenirises I finally managed to finish a tag game!!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

168- with 44 podfics and the rest are regular fics!

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

346,848. unfathomable number who is she where did she come from

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Batman (Batfam) my love my life, but 9-1-1 is a close second with one-offs for a lot of my other passing interests.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Floppy Bird - crack fic that was meant to be an angst fic that I never understood why people liked so much asfhjs

cocoa on a cold night - a classic timby holiday fic that I wrote in the middle of summer, talk about environmental storytelling

secrets un(revealed) - the only purposeful long fic I've ever written, and also the most trope mashing I've ever done with reverse robins, magical realism au, and delicious delicious miscommunications (in my head the only fic that deserves to be in the top five :wheeze: )

Eggshells - vent fic alert !! very embarrassing that people like this I try not to think about it ":)

taking the blade (for you and yours) - a round robin fic written with the server and CHOCK full of Damian suffering.

5. Do you respond to comments?

NO PICTURES. NO COMMENT. I DONT KNOW HOW TO READ.

no jk jk I really really try to but once I start getting behind it's just a whole spiral. these days I have a better chance of replying to a comment on an old fic than a brand new one because I dont want leave them half replied

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

any of my death fics probably? I think with DC a death is a little more inconsequential than other fandoms just because of how often it's unpermanent, so as a concrete answer, I'll say for you (i would cross the line). nothing quite like parental grief.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

happy ending wink-wonk or XD

probably Who The Hell Is Red Hood? - I've done things there with growth and healing that DC HQ would shudder to imagine

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not regularly, thank everything, but the one controversial three-some I posted needed comment regulation lmao

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes and uh, the kinky kind? idk take a look for yourselves I guess

10. Do you write crossovers?

Yes, and they're ALWAYS unserious- Buck from 9-1-1 dating Emma from Friends (yes Ross and Rachel's kid) anyone?

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Uh, not by a person? as far as I know? but I have found my fic on those like, document websites??? which is weird lmao just read them on your phones guys not everything needs to be uploaded

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

nope!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

weee yes! round robin my beloved, and also every fic @canonicallyshort and I have written in our threads. those count. to me. emotionally.

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

I WILL GO DOWN WITH MY MULTISHIP (which really means I'm never going down at all) but really I dont think I will ever get over Merthur... or Buddie... or- you see what I mean?

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will?

oh god I have so many wip that I am holding out hope for but my biggest WIP is an unpublished hellhole affectionately entitled "Death Pit" by everyone who is working on it- most notably because it features a literal Death Pit, every horror, angst, whump, and trauma trope you can think of, and a cast of characters and a plot thread so long we have 20+ page outline documents that aren't even fully updated... I shudder to think what will become of it one day, I imagine sentience isn't very far off

16. What are your writing strengths?

why is this an interview question. I dont know my strengths really?? um. I have good ideas, that one I'll say. execution is a different story (likely one that will never get told. like the rest of my good ideas)

I also think I do fairly well with scene descriptors. I really like to set a scene because I'm seeing a movie in my head and you all should too!

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I'm down to clown globally! I dont like to use google translate though, so if im writing in another language it's only because SOMEONE on the server is a native speaker and can vouch for my text.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

oh god one direction. head in hands. it was an 'adopted by 1d' fic that I made my mom beta, and turned it in to my 6th grade English teacher as my creative writing assignment. then I made a poem about it. then I wrote a song about it. thankfully it never got published and is trapped in the cursed purple file folder it was 'hidden' in since 7th grade. my first published fic was almost 7 years later with a Gomens fic!

20. Favourite fic you've written?

AHh um. favorite child scene here, but top contenders include: lithium + 5 for its graphic design and medical accuracy, fiery veins on speechless days for its emotional whump that makes me hurt every time I reread it, [PODFIC] wither on the shore which is not a fic I wrote but one of my favorite podfics of @silk-scarlet-ribbons 's works.

tagging (if you wish to participate!) @canonicallyshort @silverandsunflowers @selkienight60 @crows-murder

[fifthrideroftheapocalypse]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

thanks for the tag @lemonlyman-dotcom !!

1. How many works do you have an AO3? 19

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 29,507

3. What fandoms do you write for? 911 Lone Star, 911, The Old Guard, Shadowhunters, RWRB

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

victories, defined | a 911 Season 7 coda to the medal ceremony. Tommy confronts Gerrard (i dont really like this one tbh)

hitchcokian | a 911 season 7 coda. buck calls Tommy right after he runs into Kim. (this one is okay, but i fear i wasted the title "hitchcockian" on this when it would be cool do a genre-bending thing. idk)

echoes | 911 Lone Star Season 1. Carlos waits in the hospital after TK is shot and really talks to the 126 for the first time.

why | 911 Lone Star. the silliest thing i've ever written, and it's all @lemonlyman-dotcom's fault. Carlos buys Lou II pajamas and then realizes he has to put the pajamas ... on Lou II and regrets every decision that led him there.

halted beginnings | 911 Lone Star. post-engagement. Carlos is in love. But he's forgotten about something.

5. Do you respond to comments? I do, although I think im kinda behind on doing so? I do forget to sometimes.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? i think it's a tie between halted beginnings (linked above) and fundamental. they are essentially sister stories, with fundamental being the meta-verison of halted beginnings. they both tackle Carlos forgetting about Iris when he says yes to TK's proposal. halted beginnings is more of a character introspection into how, in the moment, Carlos might have forgotten about Iris. fundamental takes the meta-approach that Carlos/Iris were never planned from the beginning and is written as if Carlos, the character from season 1-3, knows someone else is rewriting his history (the writer, or "Tim," as I called him in the annotations lol). Both fics end on a heavy note, with Carlos either putting off telling TK (halted beginnings) or a rewritten version of Carlos taking over Seasons 1-3 Carlos (fundamental).

7. What is the fic your wrote with the happiest ending?

Probably "why" (linked above). TK and Lou II in matching pajamas ... couldn't be better!

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I haven't, and I hope it stays that way.

9. Do you write smut? not really

10. Do you write crossovers? No, but I would like to

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I know of

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? no. but open to that if anyone wanted to translate

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nooooooo, but I would love to collaborate on something!!!! Idk how to find a person to collaborate with though lol

16. What are your writing strengths? i really don't know ... someone else tell me. i feel like i always want to make people feel like they are in the room with the character, and i thiiiiiink i do that. or at least im getting better at it.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? plotting, finishing wips lol

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I don't do it, but I definitely could be better at adding in there.

19. First fandom you wrote for? for this question I'll take into account my past fan fic writing life, which was a long time ago. Angel

20. Favorite fics you've written?

In no particular order:

large popcorn with a bag of m&ms | an Old Guard fic I wrote in 2021 that I really want to turn into a longer series. It's Nile-centric and about how she misses her real family while adjusting to her new immortal life.

peace | a 911 Lone Star fic that is actually pretty angsty too, haha. it's very short, but I was stretching some more poetic writing muscles I hadnt used in a long time. This is Carlos, after the breakup

Staring at ghosts | my newest one, 911, bucktommy. It's a wip, but I really love the first chapter, and I'm really excited about the rest of it I have outlined and partly written. Buck and Tommy are still in the fairly early stages of their relationship, and Buck doesn't really know how to open up when he starts having dreams about the lightning strike.

--

no pressure tagging: @rmd-writes @welcometololaland @reyesstrand @bonheur-cafe @paperstorm

@alrightbuckaroo @carlos-tk @carlos-in-glasses

[rmd-writes]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

thanks @liminalmemories21 @lemonlyman-dotcom for the tags! It's been a minute since I've done a version of this game

1. How many works do you have an AO3? 92

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 678,345 but that includes a bunch of collabs and co-written fics so not all of those words are mine. I never tracked my actual word count, but at a guess I'd say at least 150,000 of those words aren't my own

3. What fandoms do you write for? Red, White & Royal Blue, 911 Lone Star and, theoretically, Schitt's Creek although it's been a very long time since I've written any SC fic.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? leaving out the multi-author collabs that I've contributed a chapter to, I am unsurprised that these are all RWRB fics:

Everybody needs good neighbours | RWRB | E | neighbours au | 14.3k

to the victor, the spoils | RWRB | E | lawyer au | 19.4k

yours for the afternoon | RWRB | T | coffee shop meet cute | 4.6k

What, like it's hard? | RWRB | E | lawyer au prequel | 65.1k

this one surprised me because I haven't actually checked my stats in ages:

Are You Screwing With Me? | RWRB | E | grindr au | 6.5k

5. Do you respond to comments? I try to! I'm not particularly punctual about it though.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? The only fic(let) I've ever written with an angsty(ish) ending hasn't been published and I'm not sure it ever will, but it's the result of @howtosingit saying something like, "whatever you do, don't imagine that the Huntington's test went the other way and the ending of Queen Charlotte."

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? all of them? idk they all have happy endings, maybe What, like it's hard? (obligatory A/N to say do not read that fic if you haven't read to the victor, the spoils first, please.)

8. Do you get hate on fics? It's not a regular thing, thankfully.

9. Do you write smut? lol (that's a yes).

Oh actually! Lil bit of railmedaddy lore: when I first started writing SC fic and chose my ao3 name (which was inspired by Dan Levy's appearance on SNL), it was meant to be a joke because railmedaddy was never ever going to write smut, didn't think she'd be capable of ever doing that, actually. That lasted all of ... maybe 6 months.

10. Do you write crossovers? The closest I've ever come is this snippet in response to an ask about how and where David, Patrick, Alex, Henry, Carlos and TK might meet.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I know of, I hope not!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes! Make the Yuletide Gay (Tarlos) was translated into simplified Chinese. I was honoured that anyone would want to go to the trouble of doing that!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? yes, with @welcometololaland my beloved 💖 and I love doing it because it's so much fun

Call Me (By My Name) | Tarlos | E | phone sex au | 65.5k

(Un)professional Services | Tarlos | E | lawyer/accountant au | 63.3k

I do have a bunch of other collaborations, but they're not co-written per se, in that we each wrote a chapter but didn't necessarily write the whole thing together.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I'm not sure that there's anything in actual WIP form with words on the page that I both want to finish and don't think I will? There are a lot of ideas that I'd like to write but don't think will ever actually happen.

16. What are your writing strengths? Someone tell me, please. Thinking about comments on my fics and the things that I actually like writing (I think my writing is better when I'm really enjoying it), it's probably banter and smut with feelings.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? World building, pretty metaphors and similes. I think my writing is repetitive so don't look too closely, especially if you read my fics in more than one fandom.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? If it's in character, then why not? The times I have included substantial Spanish dialogue, I have a native Spanish speaker look over it and help with translations because I don't want to rely on google translate.

19. First fandom you wrote for? Schitt's Creek

20. Favorite fics you've written? The collabs with Lola I linked ^^, The Grindr Toolbox: A Guide to Getting Nailed series is something that I had so much fun with and I'm very proud of, who am i if i can't carry it all aka June fic which I poured my heart and soul into, I don't think there's any other fic I've written that has so much of myself in it, this year i will fall which is my RWRB Hallmark Christmas fic.

tagging @welcometololaland @kiwiana-writes (mostly to make you compliment yourself again ily) @indestructibleheart @three-drink-amy @reyesstrand @carlos-in-glasses @heartstringsduet @orchidscript + open tag

[stevehairingtit]

20 questions for fic writers

Thank you @geddyqueer for the tag~

1. How many works do you have an AO3? 24

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 72,539, which kind of makes me want to go add a word to something

3. What fandoms do you write for? Primarily Stranger Things, though I have some 911 stuff both published and planned

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Come and Turn the Tide (My "Achy Breaky Heart." My "I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles).")

Temperature Running High

A Kind of Magic (My lone Shadowhunters semi-hit)

Living Tissue, Warm Flesh

Slide It In

5. Do you respond to comments? Sometimes with significant delay, but yes

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? If we are just looking at the individual fic, I wrote a couple of episode codas during the Malec break-up in Shadowhunters that were fairly bleak. But I've never really written angst that isn't resolved by a follow-up fic or by the source material. I'm delicate. Ending author's notes don't count.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? They are mostly pretty mushy! Can take your pick.

8. Do you get hate on fics? Nope

9. Do you write smut? Yeah, it's probably my primary vocation lmao. Though a pretty recent one! I had only written it twice ever before I started writing steddie.

10. Do you write crossovers? No, and I feel like this is not as common as it was when, like, LJ and ff dot net were the primary fandom sites.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I am aware of...

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Nope

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Nope

14. What's your all time favorite ship? Stucky........

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? lmao. I'm a quitter, so anything I start and don't finish in a sitting is at risk for this. My white whale, gogoboysteve, is the most fleshed out of my WIPs that I'm not sure I'll ever get all the way through.

16. What are your writing strengths? I am very funny. This is obviously good for comedy writing, which is my wheelhouse, but I think more dramatic writing is still set-up and punchline, even if the punchline isn't played for laughs.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? You know how pointing out your insecurities draws attention to them? I started listing stuff, decided that I don't want you noticing my eyebrows are more cousins than twins, and deleted it. I will say I think I am something of a one trick pony and comedy is also a bit of a crutch for me and nvm, Kam reblogged a post about finding your form as a writer, and I am not a one trick pony, I have just been called to write silly porn. My weaknesses are varied sentence structure and physical description.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I haven't done it, but I think it is fine as long as you are not using a translation software to do so.

19. First fandom you wrote for? Maximum Ride

20. Favorite fics you've written? I've said it before, but right now Path to the Rainbow's End because I finished it lmao. And I like the end product! The Floor of Heaven's Lain is also a favorite, I think the structure is fun and interesting, and I could read it immediately after I wrote it without picking it to pieces.

Tagging @postmodernau @cuips-not-cute @jamiethegardener55 @mustlovesteve

[decembercamiecherries]

20 questions for fic writers

No one tagged me to do this lol but I saw it on someone else's blog and thought it was really cool! And I'm trying to get better at being proud of my writing so here I am doing it!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

125

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

1,205,862......wow that is a lot more than I expected

3. What fandoms do you write for?

It's mostly hxh, but this year and last I've been dabbling in other fandoms like MDZS and Hazbin Hotel

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Words That Water Flowers - HxH, killugon, hanahaki au

Running Start - HxH, killugon, high school soulmate au

Sleepover x At x Wing's - HxH, killugon, post-canon au

Match Point - HxH, killugon, high school au

Make x It x Everlasting - HxH, killugon canon & post-canon au

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to but I have a hard time staying on top of them so I mostly just respond to comments on fics I've recently posted haha ^^; but I love comments it always makes my day to receive one!

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

For HxH, it's probably: The Soulmate Phenomenon - modern soulmate au in which Killua rejects Gon being his soulmate Time x Bomb - canon au in which Killua is taken by Pitou instead of Kite For non HxH, I would say Statues which is a she-ra fic in which Adora dies and Catra ends up living at Bright Moon with her grief.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Oh gosh the happiest??? I write a lot of happy endings but purely happy fics are a little harder to come by so I'm just going to focus on HxH fics: After x Glow - post canon aged up au of Gon and Killua cuddling nothing else but you - modern au in which upcoming musician Gon visits his long distance boyfriend Killua during the holidays Shotgun Lovers - modern au in which Gon proposes to Killua after a month of dating

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not often but there's been a few comments here and there about elements in my fics that some people didn't like. A lot of people were unhappy with Time x Bomb so that's probably the one I've gotten the most hate for.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Lol yeah I have but only with friends as an rp sort of thing and that was yearsssssss ago.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I don't write a lot of crossovers but I think my daemon au series is the closest I've got? It's basically just HxH but with daemons from the His Dark Materials series.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of and I hope I never will!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! I've had a couple of very nice people reach out to me, I'm honored that people liked my fics enough to want to translate some of them.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Only in an rp sense

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

Killugon, obviously haha XDDDD the only other ships I would consider to be my otps are usuk (Hetalia) and gamkar (Homestuck)

15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

The Wild Card and Gold Stained Blue TTT^TTT The Wild Card is a hetalia cardverse au that was my first attempt at a multichapter fic and I just don't have the energy to continue it any more. I'm planning to post a final summary of the ending so at least it will have some closure for readers. Gold Stained Blue is a killugon musician au written out in like bullet point form across three different google docs because it's so ridiculously long. I never got to post any of it because I was too tired after typing all the bullets out so rip. Maybe one day I will post the rough draft just for fun lol.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I think I'm really good with dialogue and also one shots. I love writing requests too because I get to create a whole story that has to be told in just a few paragraphs.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I'm not too great with worldbuilding or coming up with non-prompt ideas. I always feel like my more original stuff doesn't make sense and it's too exhausting to flesh out.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I think it's cool but I wouldn't do it again for a fic of my own because I can only speak english and I do not want to butcher another language haha

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Maybe....sharkboy and lavagirl??? I loved that movie a ridiculous amount haha. But the first fandom I posted anything for online was Hetalia.

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

This is so impossible to answer aaahhhhhh! I have a soft spot for all my long multichapter fics (Words That Water Flowers, Graffiti, Swan Feathers, Waiting On You) but my the most fun one shots were the most indulgent ones (5 Times Gon Was Jealous, steal x your x breath) and I also like how painting flowers for you turned out since it was a very different fic than my usual ones.

I'm just going to tag all the fic writers on here that I know! So @xyliane, @cyberflamingo, @storybookprincess, @fireolin, @autumnxsunflower and @murderkitten666! No pressure of course if you don't want to do this ^-^