#so I was scrolling through tags and came across this little excerpt people have about kaveh mostly

[kavehater]

HELPPPPPP (tags)

[coffeefairy]

Writer’s Month August 2020 - Day 3

 Third day in a row of the challenge, woop!

Day 3, Magic

Fandom: Star Trek: The Next Generation

Ship: Pre-Daforge, or Data&Geordi

Rating: General audiences

Summary: Geordi LaForge meets Data for the first time and realizes he might believe in magic after all.

Excerpt: The first day he had arrived, Geordi had watched him, a little starstruck, as he entered the Captain’s Ready Room. He’d read about Dr Soong’s android, had downloaded his specifications to his PADD and read it in growing awe. The android was a staggering feat of engineering, a mind-reeling achievement of programming, and yet, when Geordi had met him, he’d somehow turned out to be even more.

Tags: First meetings, fluff

The Weight of a Soul

Geordi LaForge did not believe in magic. He was an engineer, a practical realist. But when he watched the computer sequencing in front of him, he found he might have to start believing.

The android officer had boarded just a few days ago and he had intrigued Geordi from the start. In appearance he looked like a human, apparently based on his creator in minute detail. Except for the glow around him, the shape was like any of the humanoid males registering through his VISOR. But Geordi could easily pick him out of a crowd thanks to the glow. It was a warm, pulsating, gentle undulating of light, waving around him at all times. An aura, was the best description he could come up with.

He spoke with an endearing exactness and had displayed a distinct personality from the start. Data, as he was known, was more than Geordi could have ever imagined technology could achieve. He was curious, caring, compassionate, humble and in many ways more human than humans.

The first day he had arrived, Geordi had watched him, a little starstruck, as he entered the Captain’s Ready Room. He’d read about Dr Soong’s android, had downloaded his specifications to his PADD and read it in growing awe. The android was a staggering feat of engineering, a mind-reeling achievement of programming, and yet, when Geordi had met him, he’d somehow turned out to be even more.

Later in the day, after his shift, he’d been in Ten Forward, going over Data’s specifications in the Starfleet records on his PADD again. The android had entered, looking around. Had he been human, Geordi would have guessed he was nervous, hesitating in the doorway of a new place full of new people. Then he’d entered, and steered for Geordi.

“I understand this is the recreational area of this ship, for personnel off-duty.” He enunciated each word carefully.

“It’s one of them,” Geordi agreed with a nod.

“This is where the crew socializes?”

“For the most part. We kind of socialize all over, in quarters, in corridors, on the Bridge as we leave, in the elevator.”

“But this is the designated area for this activity?”

Delighted with the preciseness of the android wanting a certain space to be the only space for socializing, Geordi smiled. “That’s right.”

“Then I have reached my destination. I posited it would be advantageous to meet my colleagues in a less formal setting to promote the best professional relationship possible.”

“Sounds like a good idea.”

“My name is Data, I will be serving as Enterprise’s second officer.”

“I’m Geordi, conn officer.”

“It is nice to meet you, Geordi.”

“And you, Data. Would you like a drink?” He nodded across the bar.

“I am an android, Geordi, I do not eat or drink.”

“I know, but I wasn’t sure so I thought I’d offer.”

“That is...considerate of you. Thank you.”

“No worries. So, I don’t want to be rude, but would you mind if I asked you about this sequence in your positronic net?”

A week later, Data had graciously agreed to Geordi’s request to watch him function on a screen. Connected to a conn, Geordi had watched as the screen came to life, Data’s “brain” working in front of him.

And now, he might have to start believing in magic. Because while the numbers running in front of him were elegant, and the programming eloquent in its functional efficiency, it was what lay beyond that fascinated Geodi. What was scrolling on the conn added up to more than the logical sum of its parts. Somehow, through accident or design, Dr Soong had done more than create artificial life of astounding computational power. On the screen he saw Data’s processing power but in his being, Geordi saw what he already knew beyond a doubt existed. Data’s soul. A shimmering, ineffable, unspoken and unheard of quality that made him into who he was, which led his decisions and guided his mind. Data was a machine with a soul.

There had to be magic in the world.

[magnustesla]

Kakairu Fanfic - If You Fall, I Will Catch You

Rating: Explicit

Content Warning: Mental health issues, explicit sex

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Cuddles, Injury Recovery, Non Penetrative Sex, Frottage, Rimming, Established Relationship, Light Angst, Panic Attacks

Short Chapter Excerpt: Iruka may have fallen back to sleep, lulled by the gentle sound of water running from Kakashi's shower but, it was not a pleasant sleep. He was plagued by a nightmare that felt like it was never ever going to go away, constantly stuck in a loop, replaying that fateful evening over and over as though he were trapped in a cruel genjutsu.

Fanart by @i-drive-a-nii-san

Read the whole fic below this cut:

The morning light trickled into the bedroom, creeping through the gap in the curtains, slowly making its way across Iruka's pillow, reflecting off his dark chocolate strands of hair before settling over his face as the morning sun rose up into the sky.

Iruka scrunched his eyes shut even tighter, pressing his face further into the pillow, trying to keep the sun out of his eyes. “Hmnn, too early. Kashi?” he mumbled quietly into his pillow. “Are you awake?”

No answer.

Turning his head, he looked over to where Kakashi slept, where he should be right now. Iruka furrowed his brows and just before he was about to start panicking, he heard the distinct sound of water running in the bathroom.

Calm down Iruka. He's just gone for a shower. You're okay and you're safe. He let out a breath that he didn't realise he was even holding and let the sound of running water calm his frayed nerves as he drifted back off to sleep.

****

Iruka may have fallen back to sleep, lulled by the gentle sound of water running from Kakashi's shower but, it was not a pleasant sleep. He was plagued by a nightmare that felt like it was never ever going to go away, constantly stuck in a loop, replaying that fateful evening over and over as though he were trapped in a cruel genjutsu.

Everything felt so real. The cool evening breeze blowing over his skin, the sharp sting of kunai biting into flesh. And the absolute horror and fear as he surged forward to cover Naruto as the giant fuma shuriken embedded itself into his spine.

And then, he screamed.

“Iruka…”

As he came to and realised he was being held down, panic set in. Iruka felt like he couldn't breathe, as though something was constricting around his chest getting tighter and tighter on each exhale. Where's Kakashi? H... He promised he'd always be here. A strangled sob escaped his throat and then the tears started to fall. All he could hear was the sound of his heart rapidly thumping and then… singing, a soft voice cut through the haze of panic and the sound of blood rushing in his ears.

“Can you save me now? I am with you, I will carry you through it all.”

Iruka took a shuddering breath and felt calm washing over him. He knew that voice.

“I won't leave you, I will catch you, when you feel like letting go…”

He felt fingers carefully carding through his hair as he listened to that beautiful voice. Kakashi. He was with right there with Iruka, catching him and helping him through his trauma.

“Because you're not, you're not alone…,” Kakashi sang gently. “I'm here, Ru. Always.”

Turning his head towards the voice, Iruka looked through teary eyes and up into the face of his fiance who continued stroking his hair, smiling softly. Warmth flooded Iruka's veins upon seeing that smile, the panic and tension completely washing away, leaving his body feeling tired and absolutely wrung out.

“Kashi, I-” Iruka hiccuped, his hands clutching desperately at Kakashi's top. “I'm sorry.”

“Why are you apologising, Ru? You don't have anything to be sorry for.” Kakashi cupped Iruka’s face, gently brushing away the tears with his thumbs as they began to fall again. “Shhh, it’s okay.”

Iruka tried to push up onto his elbows, wanting a kiss but, the searing pain along his back stopped him in his tracks, making him wince.

“Iruka, stop moving. You might tear your incision if you haven't already. Lay still and let me look,” Kakashi ordered, pulling up Iruka's pajama top to expose the injury.

“Is it okay, Kakashi?” Iruka asked. He felt Kakashi tense up behind him, killing intent suddenly flooding the bedroom and then vanishing just as quick.

“Not quite,” he ground out, clearly trying to keep his voice level whilst he assessed the small amount of damage that Iruka had done during his panic attack. “The wound has reopened slightly in the middle but, the staples are still in place. I think I can heal it.” Bringing his hand directly over the wound, Kakashi let chakra flow to his hand, the green healing light of the mystical palm technique glowing softly as Iruka's skin started to knit back together.

Iruka fisted the bed sheets, a soft whine escaping his throat as he felt the healing jutsu taking effect. It had been four weeks since Mizuki had injured him and although it still hurt, the physical pain was much less than the emotional pain of betrayal. Mizuki had been his friend since they were kids and, while they had grown apart in recent years, he never once imagined that he would literally stab him in the back.

“I can hear you thinking. Stop blaming yourself, Ru. You couldn't have known that he would turn traitor. Thanks to you, Naruto is alive and safe.” Kakashi let the healing jutsu in his hand fade out. “All done. Please be careful, we don't need it opening up again.”

Kakashi pulled Iruka's pajama top back down and helped to carefully manoeuvre him over and onto his back, head propped up with soft feather pillows.

“Thanks, Kashi. Do you think Naruto is okay? I'm worried about him.”

“Maa, he's fine. I saw him yesterday at Ichiraku’s, stuffing his face. He told me to tell you that you need to get better quick so that you can take him out for ramen.”

Iruka chuckled and shook his head, a small smile gracing his tear-stained face. “Sounds about right.” And, at the mention of food, his stomach grumbled loudly.

“I'd hazard a guess that someone is hungry, ne?”

Iruka's face flushed fiercely and, try as he might, he couldn't will the blood away from his beet red cheeks. The more he tried to get his blush under control, the worse it got and before he knew it, his entire face and chest felt like it was on fire, burning with embarrassment.

A smile split Kakashi's face, both eyes crinkling in amusement. “Maa, no need to be so embarrassed. You never blush when you're enjoying me eating your-”

“Kakashi! Does your mind ever leave the gutter?”

Grinning, Kakashi shrugged his shoulders, adopting his usual slouch, and sauntered lazily out of the bedroom, heading to the kitchen to make breakfast.

The faint clanging of plates and saucepans from the kitchen had Iruka drifting into his thoughts. He would never admit it but, he enjoyed Kakashi's teasing. The man was smart, funny, and very quick-witted; something that he really enjoyed in a partner. Iruka found that very few people stimulated his mind like Kakashi.

After his parents died, the Third Hokage had taken Iruka under his wing, teaching him about everything and anything. It kept his mind busy and helped him work through his crushing depression. It was also the reason Kakashi had come into his life; accidentally catching the teen ANBU in a complex trap that he'd learned from one of the scrolls that had been gifted to him. Iruka would forever be grateful for everything that the Hokage had done for him.

The bed dipped next to Iruka, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“I made your favourite breakfast,” Kakashi said. “Miso soup, pan seared salmon and one of those oranges that you love. You know, from that little village on the border before The Land of Hot Water.” He slid the tray of food onto Iruka's lap and helped him sit up, carefully slinging an arm behind Iruka to take the strain off his still healing back.

“What would I do without you?”

“Probably starve.” Kakashi laughed, disappearing into back the kitchen and returning to sit next to Iruka with his own tray of food.

Iruka rolled his eyes and couldn't help but laugh, too. They ate in silence, Iruka occasionally stealing a sneaky glance at his fiance, eyes roaming across the pale skin on show. What did I do to deserve someone as special and beautiful as you? For as long as he was alive, Iruka fully intended to make sure that Kakashi knew how much he was loved and appreciated.

****

“It won’t stop, Kashi,” Iruka whined, desperately trying to contort himself in a way that would allow him to reach his back injury. The staples had been irritating his skin to the point where, if he could reach, he would have most likely scratched himself until he bled.

Kakashi tilted his head at Iruka’s comment, wordlessly asking him to elaborate.

“The itching,” Iruka said.

He continued frantically trying to reach behind himself when all of a sudden, calloused hands gripped his arms, tugging them both forward and pulling him against a solid chest. Iruka looked up to find to mismatched eyes glaring down at him in irritation. “I only healed that an hour ago, Ru,” Kakashi grumbled, his deep voice rumbling in obvious displeasure.

“Why couldn't Tsunade have just healed the entire thing with chakra? The staples are irritating and itching so much,” Iruka complained, pouting and looking every bit like a scolded child.

“You know why, Ru. It's better for your body to finish the rest of the healing rather than rely on chakra for the entire thing,” Kakashi said as he brushed Iruka’s hair back and placed a soft kiss to his forehead.

Iruka understood the reasoning. After all, he had spent a lot of time caring for Kakashi due to the number of injuries he had sustained over the years. But, despite that, being forced to rest, unable to do anything for himself was a huge loss of independence. Sure, Kakashi had been more than happy to help and seemed to enjoy fussing over him but, he couldn’t help feeling like a burden.

With a sigh, Kakashi released Iruka and leaned over to his side of the bed, rummaging through his nightstand. “Hmmm, where is it? I'm sure I put it in here,” he said, sounding irritated.

“Where’s what?” Iruka asked, trying to peek over Kakashi’s shoulder at what he was searching for.

“My jar of healing cream. Ah found it! Now, strip down to your underwear and get on your stomach,” Kakashi demanded, a small smirk on his face.

Iruka started pulling his clothes off, first sliding his sleep shorts down his thighs, then kicking them to the floor in a heap. He went to take his pajama top off but paused, his breath quickening. Kakashi had seen his body after being taken to hospital but, he'd mostly been covered by bandages. He had only seen Iruka's back for the second time this morning.

The night that Mizuki had attacked him, it hadn't just been with the giant fuma shuriken. Dozens of kunai, some poisoned, had pierced his skin, leaving behind many deep, red, angry scars that littered his entire body, especially his arms, stomach, and back. A few of the wounds had become necrotic from the poison, eating away at his flesh and needing debridement, leaving extensive scarring behind.

Iruka's mouth was suddenly very dry, his stomach lurching and breakfast threatening to make a reappearance. He knew what his body looked like now and had been disgusted by what he’d seen. What if Kakashi was disgusted, too?

His heart started racing, hands shaking and clutching at the hem of his pajama top as though it were his only lifeline. Suddenly, there were warm hands on his, gently easing his grip and lacing their fingers together.

“I could never be disgusted, Ru.”

Shit. Had he said that out loud?

“Scars don't matter. They are a part of you and there isn't anything about you that I don't love. You're beautiful to me and nothing will ever change that,” Kakashi whispered and brought Iruka's hand up to his mouth, lips brushing across his knuckles. He continued, pressing kisses to the scars along the inside of Iruka's forearm, right up to the inside of his elbow, hot breath fanning across the sensitive skin.

Iruka's breath hitched and his eyes fluttered shut, the sensation going straight to his groin. Never would he have thought that the inside of his elbow could be an erogenous zone. He opened his eyes to find Kakashi looking at him, gaze heated, clearly enjoying the reactions he was getting. Before Iruka could say anything, Kakashi gave a predatory grin, and suddenly there was a warm, wet, tongue tracing the crease of his elbow. “Fuck,” Iruka gasped. Kakashi had barely done anything to him, and already he was so hard that it was almost painful.

“Mmmm not just yet,” Kakashi said, voice thick with arousal. He placed a wet kiss to Iruka’s arm and pulled the top up and over his head, exposing Iruka’s gorgeous bronze skin. “On your stomach, now.”

Iruka didn’t need to be told twice and he settled down on his front, head resting on the pillow underneath. He could practically feel Kakashi’s gaze roving over his trembling body.

Kakashi leaned back on his knees, opened the jar and dipped his fingers in before returning it to the nightstand. He straddled Iruka's hips and carefully applied the cream, tracing the edges of the wound and making sure to be mindful of the staples holding the delicate skin together.

“It looks awful, doesn’t it?”

Sweeping Iruka’s long hair aside, Kakashi leaned forward and placed a kiss on his shoulder. “You could never-” Kakashi paused, kissing further down -”ever look awful.” He continued to place kisses down Iruka’s spine, pausing between each one to whisper all the reasons Iruka was beautiful.

Eager hands worked their way back up; sometimes gently tracing Iruka’s spine and other times, nails biting into unmarred flesh, raking down his sides followed by Kakashi’s tongue lavishing new scars. Being unable to see where Kakashi’s hands were, and where they would touch next, had Iruka on edge, his skin breaking out in goosebumps and his body quivering in anticipation.

It felt wonderful having Kakashi’s hands and tongue all over him, adding to the fire already burning, the heat simmering under his skin and curling low in his stomach. Before Iruka could stop himself he was pressing his hips into the mattress, desperate for a little friction to ease his aching cock.

“Someone's excited,” Kakashi teased, running his tongue along the shell of Iruka’s ear. He could feel Kakashi was hard as he began rolling his hips, pressing himself firmly against the cleft of Iruka’s ass.

Iruka was so turned on that he couldn't even begin to feel embarrassed as he reached one hand into his underwear, groaning as he took himself in hand.

They both rocked together on the bed, panting harshly; Iruka pushing his hips down into the mattress so he could grind into his hand and Kakashi straddling him, thrusting his clothed cock against Iruka's ass.

“Please, Kakashi,” Iruka begged, although he wasn't quite sure what for. All he could think about was how he was certain he'd burn up if he didn't get it.

Kakashi let out a groan and dropped forward onto both hands, his warm breath ghosting against the back of Iruka's neck. “We shouldn't,” he said. Although, his actions said otherwise, as he pulled Iruka's underwear off before sliding his own down, throwing them somewhere across the room along with his top and settled between Iruka's legs.

Iruka tried to push his hips back but, Kakashi pressed him back down into the mattress, gently spreading Iruka’s ass open and exposing him. He tried to voice his complaint but was silenced by the feeling of Kakashi's hot breath against his skin and then his tongue pressing firm, slow strokes against his entrance.

“Kashi!” Iruka gasped out, pushing back and fucking himself on Kakashi's tongue. “Just- fuck -needmoredeeper- ngh -yeslikethat.”

Kakashi spread Iruka's legs wider, his grip on Iruka’s ass almost bruising as he pressed his face closer, pushing his tongue deeper inside of Iruka's body and then used his lips to just suck.

Almost incoherent and sobbing with need, Iruka couldn't think beyond wanting Kakashi inside him. He so desperately wanted to be filled, stretched wide and to surrender to everything Kakashi had to give.

Kakashi pushed back onto his knees, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. Leaning back over Iruka, he thrust his throbbing cock between Iruka's ass cheeks and groaned against his neck. “You feel so good, Ru. I could come just like this.” He continued to thrust against Iruka's body, panting into his shoulder before his teeth sunk in, causing Iruka to cry out. “On your back. Now.”

Impatient hands helped Iruka roll over and just as he opened his mouth to talk, he was silenced by Kakashi greedily pushing his tongue inside as though he meant to consume him.

Moaning into the kiss, Iruka wrapped his legs around Kakashi's waist and pulled him close, grinding their hips together, enjoying the push and pull of sweat-slick skin. Kakashi pulled his mouth away and growled into Iruka's throat. He opened his mouth, laving his tongue against Iruka's pulse and sucked a mark into his skin. “Mine,” he growled.

Iruka slid his hands up Kakashi's neck and into his wild hair, winding fingers into silver strands and yanking him up and into a bruising kiss, teeth clacking together in his desperation to devour Kakashi.

With reluctance, Kakashi pulled away from the kiss and started to slide down Iruka's body. He paid attention to a couple of new scars just below Iruka’s collarbone, gently tracing them with his fingertips.

An unexpected flick of Kakashi's tongue against his nipple had Iruka gasping and pulling Kakashi's head closer. He looked down just in time to see Kakashi suck his nipple between kiss bruised lips, the sensation sending a bolt of desire straight to his cock. Iruka's hands tightened in Kakashi's hair, but instead of complaint at the pain, it pulled a throaty moan out of him, his eyelashes fluttering as his eyes rolled back in his head.

Iruka kept his tight grip on Kakashi's hair as though he was trying to anchor himself to something, anything, lest he float away. Wet kisses against heated flesh only served to fuel his desire as Kakashi continued working his way down, worshipping every new scar, slowly driving Iruka out of his head.

Hands gripped his hips and Iruka tilted them upwards, spreading his legs in wordless invitation. He took in a shuddering breath and gazed up at the sight before him - beautiful pale skin flushed pink and eyes blown wide in lust. Kakashi was so open like this, his body always honest even when he himself was not.

Reaching under his pillow, Iruka grabbed the lube and pressed the bottle into Kakashi's hand. “Please, I need you.”

He watched as Kakashi poured lube into his hand and shifted forward, their hard cocks brushing together as he wrapped a hand around them both, slicking them up and slowly stroking them together. Iruka gripped the sheets, knuckles turning white, enjoying the feeling of Kakashi's hand moving between their bodies.

Dropping forward onto one hand, Kakashi held himself above Iruka, lips almost touching and breaths mingling together.

Determined to pull some sounds from Kakashi, Iruka raked his nails down Kakashi's chest and tugged at both nipples, the action earning him a low groan, Kakashi stroking them harder, and picking up the pace.

“More,” Iruka choked out.

Suddenly Kakashi came to an abrupt stop, pulling one of Iruka’s hands down between them. He took the hint, curling his hand around Kakashi's. The sensation felt amazing and Iruka couldn't help but start pushing his hips up, Kakashi matching his thrusts, both fucking into their joined fists.

Trying to stifle a moan, Iruka looked up at Kakashi, desperately hoping that he was close.

He was hanging on by a thread and couldn't hold back much longer, the warmth curling low in his stomach threatening to consume him.

“I want to hear you,” Kakashi all but begged.

Curses fell from his lips followed by guttural moans, the sounds only serving to spur Kakashi on, his hips starting to lose any semblance of rhythm as he trembled above Iruka, drawing ever so close to the edge.

“I… I'm so close, fuck- ” Iruka whined, gripping them both together. - “Come for me, please, please. ”

Kakashi captured Iruka's lips in a wet and messy kiss, full of urgency as his hips started stuttering. Tracing the curve of his ass, Iruka pushed the pad of his thumb against Kakashi's entrance, enjoying the way he groaned into their kiss as he came with a grunt, his orgasm painting Iruka's scarred stomach and chest.

Seeing Kakashi come all over him was all it took to push Iruka over the edge. And then, he was coming, coming so hard it was almost painful, mouth falling open in a silent cry as his release joined Kakashi's upon his chest.

Iruka felt his entire body become boneless and suddenly he was fighting back a yawn. He looked up to find Kakashi smiling at him.

“That good, huh?” Kakashi asked, leaning in for a chaste kiss before pushing himself up and scooting to the side of the bed.

“Mmm, yes,” Iruka said. He hadn't felt this relaxed since some time before the graduation exams. Maybe Kakashi is right - sex is a good stress reliever. The thought had him snorting with laughter.

“What's so funny?” Kakashi said as he got up, heading towards the bathroom attached to their bedroom.

“Oh, nothing really. Just thinking about how you are slowly corrupting me,” Iruka called out. “You know, we were told not to have sex until my staples are out and I'm cleared by Tsunade.”

Kakashi returned with a warm, damp cloth and started to carefully clean off Iruka's chest and stomach. He was very mindful of a few scars that were still red, almost raw from slow healing. “Maa, you started it. And, who was I to say no?”

“Asshole.”

“But I'm your asshole,” Kakashi teased, joining Iruka back on the bed, pressing his naked body flush against Iruka's side and slinging an arm across his freshly cleaned chest.

Iruka huffed a laugh and turned to look at Kakashi. He would be forever thankful for how much Kakashi had supported him, even if at times he could be a little over the top, acting like a mother hen and fussing 24/7. Not that Iruka blamed him. He had almost died, after all the first 48 hours had been touch and go due to the severity of his spinal injury, blood loss and the poison coursing through his body, attacking vital organs.

Of course, he had no memory of this and could only go by what Kakashi and his friends had told him. But, according to them, he had crashed twice within an hour of being taken to the hospital. Shortly after, the medics had admitted they were out of their depth and needed help. The Third Hokage hadn't hesitated in sending a team out to locate Tsunade Senju. And thank Kami he had, because he wouldn't be alive if it hadn't been for her unrivaled medical skill.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“Huh? Wha- Oh. Nothing, Kashi.” Iruka said. “I'm fine.”

Kakashi arched a brow, giving Iruka a skeptical look. Iruka could tell that he wasn't buying it but was thankful that Kakashi never pushed. He'd talk when he was ready.

“Hmm, if you say so,” Kakashi replied, squeezing Iruka's hand. “C’mon, let's get up and dressed.”

****

“What do you want to watch, Kashi?” Iruka asked, voice carrying from the lounge into the kitchen where Kakashi was making coffee.

“I don't mind, Ru. Whatever you want to watch is fine by me.”

Iruka decided on one of the Icha Icha films. It wasn't really his sort of thing usually but, the storyline was light-hearted with some funny moments mixed in. Definitely nothing like the books that Kakashi read which were very explicit. He didn't think he would manage to watch the films without blushing and squirming in embarrassment if they had actually followed the books. Kakashi would enjoy watching him get flustered and most certainly would tease him relentlessly. Wouldn't change him for the world, though.

“Found something to watch, Ru?”

Iruka looked up from where he was crouched in front of the television as Kakashi padded into the room, carefully placing their drinks onto the coffee table. Pressing play on the video player, he simply nodded and tried to get back up off the floor. Spending so much time laid up in hospital had atrophied his muscles and so, at times Iruka struggled to get up from the floor.

“There's nothing wrong in asking for help,” Kakashi said. He bent forward, slinging an arm around Iruka's slim waist and carefully pulled him to his feet. “You'll be starting physical therapy once you're cleared. Things won't be this way forever, Ru.”

“I just… you shouldn't have to do this.” Iruka sighed, slumping down on the sofa, burying his face in his hands. Tears started gathering and he bit back a sob.

"He's right, I'm a failure, I-" He shook his head when Kakashi began to speak. "I can't even help myself off the ground, Kakashi, why should you have to? Why should you have to help me?"

Kakashi pulled Iruka against his chest, his hands softly carding through long strands of dark hair and whispered against his temple “Because you're my partner and because I love you.” He continued stroking Iruka’s hair, the gesture soothing, helping to calm him down. “You've done this for me enough times so please, let me in. Let me love you.”

Tugging the blanket off the back of the sofa, Kakashi pulled it over Iruka, urging him to lay his head in his lap as he began to sing softly. “I won't leave you, I will catch you, when you feel like letting go…”

Iruka looked up and almost choked up at the fond smile and the absolute warmth and sincerity he could see in Kakashi's eyes. Maybe, just maybe he means it.

“Because you're not, you're not alone…,”

“Thank you, Kashi,” Iruka whispered, eyes heavy as he drifted off to the sound of his partners voice.

What would I do without you?

[giasonesdream]

Track Your Fic’s Success on AO3

Fanfic Writing on AO3 (for ARMYS)

I'm not sure why I felt the need to make this, but I have heard writers talk about this topic before, of not getting much traction on their fics. There's a part of it that really does fall on the readers, but this is a post to maybe help get you on the right path or maybe change your perspective on the stats given to you (aka kudos, hits, comments, etc).

The 10% Idea

Basically, this is just something to keep in mind if you see that there aren't many kudos on your story.

I used to have a friend that said pretty much this: If the amount of kudos is 10% of the amount of hits you have, then it's deemed a good fic. That is to say, even if your story only gets 50 kudos out of 500 people that read it, you're in the clear.

I'll be using screenshots of my own works as example because I have a range of decently well-received stories to not well received at all.

So this one has almost exactly 10% the amount of kudos.

This, which has only a whopping 5 kudos is in the 10% (it’s actually not it’s 2am and my brain is shitting itself but I’m gonna make a point with this one regardless so leave my math error alone}

Meanwhile, this fic only has 55 kudos even though, presumably, over 2k people read it.

There are a few things that should be taken into consideration here:

THE SHIP: it's no shock to anyone -especially writers- that there are favoured ships in our fandom. Taekook and Jikook take the first place spot followed by Yoonmin (this one actually was named the top ship on all of ao3 a couple years ago!) along with yoonseok/sope maybe Namjin? This is all to say, if you write about a ship that isn't necessarily popular, not many people will read your work. That isn't to say that you should only write for certain ships. Please write what you want and what you feel! I cannot stress enough that all of this should be for fun or maybe even practice if writing is your passion.

But let’s look back at the three fics I pointed out. The first one with 400 kudos is taekook, so it had a better chance of getting seen by more people. In fact, 4k people clicked on it and potentially read that story...but the next fic with only 5 kudos is yoonmin. Aren’t they a popular ship? Why did only 100 people read it? And vhope isn’t necessarily a popular ship now (it had its time earlier on back when Rookie King came out, and the veterans for that ship are still fighting, me included!) but 2k people clicked on that and only 55 of those 2k liked it enough to leave a kudos. So, if it’s not the ship, what else could it be?

THE TAGS: tagging a story is very detrimental when posting on a site like this or any other, really. Many people like to narrow their searches down based on the criteria. Being able to filter what fics a person sees can make or break a work’s traction. My yoonmin story is a horror fic, and I’m sure there aren’t very many readers looking to get scared. As an avid reader myself, there is no denying that I -as well as many other readers- are interested in reading smut. Whether it be a one shot that’s quick and easy, or maybe it’s a slow-burn that tallies up to just being a written rom-com series, if you specify in the tags that smut is in this story, people are more willing to give it a try. For the vhope fic, I didn’t mention smut, but I did put in the tags some subgenres of smut. You can’t have “over stimulation” without sex, right? 

But, again, I feel the need to stress this: do not write smut if you are not comfortable with it! Despite the fact that a lot of us are thirsty, shameless fiends, there about just as many people that are only here for the cutesy, lovey-dovey shit. That taekook fic doesn’t have any sex in it, nor did I ever mention that there was a possibility of sex. It doesn’t go past being flirty in the span of 2k words. So, then, if a fic with a popular ship can do well without having sex in it, what else is making people click on it?

THE SUMMARY: I...am such a huge advocate for summaries. There’s a nice fine line between going into too much detail or not enough. This is why I normally go the route of putting in an excerpt from the story and then add a TLDR (Too Long Don’t Read) in the form of an “OR” followed by an incredibly oversimplified idea of what the story is about. As you can see, I didn’t do that for the yoonmin fic. I only put in an excerpt that -quite frankly- is boring narrative. The reason as to why I chose that in the first place is because the horror aspect of the fic is where any dialogue comes in- which brings me to the next point!

This could just be me, but I do tend to click on stories that have dialogue in the summary. This is going to depend on if the reader cares more about dialogue or narration, but think of the story as if it were a new movie coming out or preview to a new episode of a show. Do these videos only broadcast the actors simply moving around? No, they like to add in clips from scenes, use dialogue where you can sort of understand what the context of the scene might be, but not enough context so you’ll want to watch and see what the fuck they’re talking about.

So, if you’ve gotten to this part, you have probably realized that all I did was just tell you how you can market your writing so that more people will click on it and possibly read it all the way through. And really, these aren’t necessarily sure, guaranteed ways of becoming the next “The Fic” in our fandom, but I can assure that just taking more time to consider these aspects can allow you to contemplate what works for you as well as the audience. 

That’s that on that. The next thing I want to talk about some stuff I didn’t cover that are just as important:

Comments (and Bookmarks)

This is probably the biggest thing I ever hear/read/see artists of any sort complain about. And with good reason! As a writer, it truly does wonders to get feedback of almost any sort, even if it’s just a critique on how something was worded. Comments mean that we’re not just throwing our art out into a vast void. Effort was put into the art we created, so if you enjoyed it, effort put into commenting is much appreciated. But this isn’t another rant begging the audience to please just let us know how you felt. No, I’m here to mention that we should not let the number of kudos overshadow the interactions.

More examples. And keep in mind that taekook fic. Feel free to scroll back up and look at the amount of comments on that work. Now take a look at these:

So, 8.1k read this fic...and only 250 people liked it...but boy did this story cause some sort of reaction because people W E N T O F F! And rest assured, none of the comments were necessarily negative. The majority of them are just people being like “wha- how could they >.<”

Everything seems to be pretty even across the board. 2.6k readers, 220 kudos, about 20 or so comments (that’s excluding my replies). 

As I mentioned before, comments are so important. The taekook fic I wrote that seemed to garner enough traction where 4k people read it and 400 people liked it enough to leave a kudos, only a handful of those readers left a comment. It kinda makes me think of instagram. How strange does it look if a picture gets 10k likes but only has maybe 10 or 20 comments. Something seems a bit off, doesn’t it? I can see how this sounds entitled, but my sole purpose in bringing this up is because those numbers can be discouraging. And I want to stress how important it is to look at your works, cherish the comments you get even if the number of hearts seems low in comparison. Some of my most heartfelt comments are on that Taegi fic just above. And it makes them all the more special because this has been my favourite story to write. So even though not many have read it (whether it be because the ship isn’t popular or I didn’t do a good job of summarizing the fic where it seemed interesting) the people that clicked on an liked it felt the need to comment some absolutely amazing words. And those are the comments that should keep you going and growing.

I’ll also just add this little tidbit because it wasn’t something I noticed until recently, you should also check the bookmarks. People are able to leave comments and tags in their bookmarks, and I believe those to be extensions of comments. Not only did people feel like saving this work you wrote, but they might just let out some of their feelings in the tags, like the tags section of a tumblr post or the comment on a retweet.

There is no rule or formula that I particularly know of for getting more comments -aside from using the note section to say “let me know what you think” or “comments are always appreciated!”. I think this aspect somewhat depends on the story itself. That taekook fic I wrote is probably one of the more “cookie-cutter” things I have written. Tropes are great, they normally have a plot and formula that people can follow and know what’s going to happen. And they’re tropes for a reason: they’re common and entertaining. I know I don’t always like to go the route of writing tropes. I have accepted that the style in which I write is not always catered towards the general audience, but that is completely okay!

As I said before, this is for fun. You write because you have a story you want to tell, and you feel so passionately about it that you take the time and effort to write it. If my numbers have proven anything, it’s that your fics will find their niche. It’s always going to fit someone. And it’s important to really appreciate those that seem to like what you’re writing, even if the greater audience doesn’t vibe with it.

And that’s that on that.

So, since we’ve gone over all this, I just wanted to say that I am open to helping writers. I know this post probably isn’t the best representation, but I’m pretty damn good at spelling and grammar. I’m not a novelist, don’t have any published works floating anywhere on the New York Times Best Seller list, but I have been writing since I was seven years old. With fifteen years of experience and having worked with authors in the past on potential books, I am always more than happy to pass on any knowledge I have gained over the years. If it’s wording something to make it flow better, trying to fill any plot holes or answer questions of character motivations, of if you should be using “there”, “they’re”, or “their”, I would love to help. All ya gotta do is message me :)

*mic drop*

[garden-of-succulents]

Time for more BITTYPOOTS AU, meaning the story @gutsybitsy and I are working on where Jack is the tormented audience to Bitty and Poots’ unhappy and unsatisfying relationship (Original post / fic tag). NOW FEATURING: established relationship Patater and excerpts from Bitty’s twitter!

(Also accidental outing to a safe/sympathetic audience, and gay gossip.)

Away games in Las Vegas have gotten a lot easier these days. During his rookie year, they meant pitched arguments with Kent that lasted hours and left them both exhausted in the morning. After Kent broke up with him, they meant a couple years of holing up early in his hotel room and eating room service while watching tape.

But now Las Vegas trips are, quite tentatively... nice.

Somehow the crucible of two Stanley Cup finals against each other in the last four years have left the Falcs and Aces with a permanent rivalry that is enthusiastic, respectful, warm, and friendly. It could so easily have been bitter--but if Jack were to name a single factor that turned the tide, it was Tater's defection to Vegas. You couldn't quite hate a man who skated over during breaks and asked how your children liked their birthday presents, who complimented you on your improved form and laughed about your inability to score on his goalie, and then laughed again when you did before putting his head down and putting all his energies to beating your pants off. Tater's shoulders are broad enough to carry all of the game's spirit, its pettiness and nobility, its competition and comradeship--and Kent, the burden of the C removed from him by Tater's presence, began finding it easier to be magnanimous in victory, graceful in defeat.

And the two of them know Jack doesn't like big parties, so they leave Tater's other A to lead the grand night out with the Falcs and whisk Jack away to a quiet dinner at their apartment instead.

Jack indulges in a beer while Kent grills steak on the balcony and Tater uses a feather toy to make the cat run laps around the living room. He's relaxed, amused, comfortable, and his worries and concerns ease up enough to spill out past his lips.

"There's this guy I know," he says, picking at the label on his bottle. "He has this boyfriend who's... really nice. But they're not out, right, and I'm the only one who knows, so they kinda talk to me about it? And..." He wrinkles his nose as the label comes off imperfectly, then licks his thumb and starts rubbing at the ragged edges. "He complains about his boyfriend. Clingy, embarrassing, needy... because he does things like pack lunches or text him for no reason. I just wanna tell him to smarten right up and stop being so ungrateful."

"Fuck yeah," Kent sings from the grill. "I want someone who packs me lunches."

"He wants not me to pack him lunches," Tater says, flicking the cat toy.

"The gods are jealous of perfection, kotyenok. We all have our flaws." Kent puts down the sauce brush and closes the lid on the barbecue again, then comes back in to throw himself onto the arm of the chair Tater's sitting in. Tater's arm comes around his waist to steady him.

"I just--" Jack covers his face with one hand. "I talk to the boyfriend too. He was really happy the other week because he got an anniversary present, and I had to shut up because I was so close to telling him his boyfriend bought it at the last minute in an airport gift shop. Because I told him to. Because he said, 'I can't go out tonight, it's our six-month anniversary and he's making dinner' and I asked what he got as a present and he said, 'You think I should get something?'" Jack gestures, helplessly. "I know I'm not good at this stuff, so how much worse is he?"

"Terrible, obviously," Kent says. "My love, could you assemble the salad?"

"Oh, you trust me with salad now!" Tater grumbles, but he gets up and moves to the kitchen. When Jack gestures, Kent passes him the cat toy, and Jack tries to figure out why Kit Purrson will do backflips for Tater, but ignore him when he tries to do the exact same thing.

After they've demolished half a cow and a small Irish town's supply of potatoes, plus some salad on the side, Kent leans back in his seat and says, "Tell you what, Tates. Let's seduce Fitzgerald's poor boyfriend out from under him."

Tater's making some rumbling noise about that being a good idea while Jack sits bolt upright. "It's not--!" he says. "I didn't say who it was. You don't know it's Fitzgerald."

"Yes, I do," Kent says calmly.

"Elementary deduction," Tater chimes in.

"Someone you spend a lot of time with," Kent says, ticking points off on his fingers. "That you put up with even when he annoys you. That's only someone on your team. Six Falconers are single, and Fitzgerald--what do you guys call him?"

"Poots," Jack says, miserably unable to stop them.

"Poots? Well, anyway--Poots is the only one on your line, and only one of two under 20; Marks came straight out of Juniors, while Poots came out of Gaytopia U."

“It could be--one of the trainers, or--”

Kent swats that away. “The only new hires you guys have made this year have been female. Try another one.”

"You play good with him on ice," Tater contributes. "He is happy to sit next to you when he comes to bench, but when he is the one sitting, you choose somewhere else."

Jack stares at Tater, mouth agape. One, not even he noticed that; two, Tater has a fucking hockey game to play while that kind of thing is happening. Where does he get off paying that kind of attention?

"Some people follow sports," Tater shrugs. "We follow you love life."

"Well you must be bored then," Jack snaps.

"Fuckin' right we are," Kent yawns. "This is the most excitement we've had since Collins left for England."

"I won't confirm or deny anything," Jack says, and the hand with Tater's phone in it bumps Kent's arm. Kent looks down.

"Oh damn, he's cute," Kent says.

Jack's eyebrows furrow. "Poots?"

"Eric Bittle," Kent replies, and Jack's stomach turns to ice. "Oh, don't look like that, Zimmermann. You're talking to two of the most closeted people in the sport. You haven't come out because you've had a sad-sack social life, but we haven't come out because we have people to protect. We're only gossip-mongers like this when we're around you, because it's so fucking nice to not be alone for once."

Jack's mouth twists, and he looks away.

"Very cute tweet from last week," Tater says. "'That feeling when you have the cutest boyfriend in the room.' And a little heart."

"Not hard to find if you know what you're looking for," Kent says, scrolling through Tater's phone. "Your guy's got 30k Twitter followers, follows 22 people in return. Eleven are Falconers, four are official feeds, three are girls, two are guys in Toronto, one's a guy backpacking through Asia, and one is Eric R. Bittle in Boston."

"You're just constructing a theory--" Jack tries again.

"New tweet," Tater says. "Just posted. 'Is it really too needy to want to cuddle?'"

Jack can't help scowling, and Kent says sardonically, "Tell me how I'm making shit up again."

Jack rubs his face with his hands again, and says equivocally, "He deserves so much better."

"We steal him," Tater says calmly. "Make him happy with us."

"You can't do that!" Jack retorts, nettled. "Look, you two, leave it alone. He doesn't need your nonsense."

"Nonsense," Kent says to Tater.

"No, I mean it! He's a nice guy and it won't help to get pulled into your stupid sex shenanigans, he doesn't need you two, he needs someone stable, someone steady--"

"We have shenanigan?" Tater asks Kent.

"No babe, we got tested by the clinic, we're clean."

Jack makes a frustrated noise, and pitches a napkin at them. It lands unsatisfyingly short of either man. "Stop it."

"I don't hear you calling dibs," Kent says archly.

"Dibs," Jack retorts. "Dibs, dibs, dibs. Leave him alone."

The moment he says it a smile blossoms across Kent's face, like Jack's sprung a trap. He scowls fiercely back. "You like him," Kent says, delighted.

"So what if I do? He's taken. And it's none of your business."

"All right," Kent says, but he concedes like it's a victory, grinning to himself as he nestles into Tater's side. "Just remember, Zimms. He might not stay taken forever."

"I... have something to confess," Jack says awkwardly, while they watch Poots at the billiards table. So long as they keep their heads close together, they're muffled by the overall noise of the bar. "I told two friends about you and James? I tried to stay general, 'a guy I know', but they figured out who it was. They won't tell anybody, but they know, and I'm sorry that I kind of outed you."

Bittle gives him a brief frightened-rabbit look, then bites his lip and watches his boyfriend thoughtfully for a minute. Then he turns back to Jack. "You trust them?"

Jack nods, then leans into add, "It's my ex and his boyfriend. And if you ever want to leave James for an NHL captain, um... apparently that's a possibility."

Bittle blinks at him again, looking astonished and absolutely edible, then says, "Your ex is an NHL captain?"

Jack grins uncertainly. "Yes?"

Bittle blinks those enormous eyes a time or two, and looks over at his boyfriend with a smile spreading across his face. He looks back to Jack once, for another second disbelieving, but Jack pastes on a smile and nods, and Bittle's features relax with relief and joy. He knocks his shoulder against Jack's in a friendly way, then turns and asks, "Can I tell James?"

"Sure you can."

"God, maybe it'll help to know he's... not alone," Bittle says, and reaches out for his beer. "Make him relax."

"Anything to help the two of you," Jack says loyally, and reaches out for his glass of water to hide his expression.