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myth1cs · 3 days ago

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can I get nmixx lily smut?

Winter Getaway (Lily Morrow x F!Reader)

Inspired from the game "Fears to Fathom - Woodbury Getaway"

Don't worry this isn't a horror smut or anything.

Word Count: 2,588

You couldn't believe it.

Both Bae and Kyujin ditched last minute and now it was just you and Lily staying in the cabin for the week.

"So it's just the two of us huh Y/N?"

"Guess so."

Now that finals were over you decided to schedule a getaway with the friend group. Sullyoon and Haewon didn't want to go which only left you, Lily, Bae, and Kyujin.

However last minute Bae cancled and not so long after Kyujin canceled. Neither of them even gave you a reason!

You got a call from Lily "Hey Y/N are you, Bae, and Kyujin ready to go yet?"

"No they all canceled a minute ago!"

"What?! So now it's just the two of us?"

"Yeah, do you want to go still or should we just cancel?"

"No don't do that. The purchase was non-refundable might as well get our money's worth."

"I guess you're right."

After finishing getting your belongings packed you got in your car and started to drive over to Lily's house.

Once you arrived you got out of the car and made your way to the front door: you knocked.

"Just a moment."

Not long after the door opened revealing Lily on the other end.

"Aren't you a bit under dressed for the whether we're in?"

"Aren't you in too many layers Y/N? It's not that cold out here you know."

"Fair point."

Lily and you got in your car with Lily taking the drivers seat and she started driving towards the cabin. It was a four and a half hour drive so you were in for a long ride. You put on your playlist for some background noise.

After two hours into the drive you were getting a little hungry.

"Lily is there any restaurant nearby we can stop at?"

"Oh you're hungry? Is there anything specific you want to eat right now?"

"I'm not craving anything specific right now, I just want to eat something."

"There's a pizza place nearby do you want some pizza?"

"Pizza sounds great right now."

Lily pulled into the pizza place and parked the car.

"Do you have any idea what you want?"

"I'll just get what I usually get."

It was a bit too early in the morning for pizza but you were so hungry you didn't care. Both of you stepped out of the car and were hit by the cold air.

"It's so cold out here Lily."

"Yeah let's get inside quickly."

Running inside the pizza place you were hit with a blast of warm air once you stepped in. Looking around you saw there were only a small handful of people in the joint.

You held the door open for Lily "Aw shucks Y/N you're so respectful. I'm surprised, I didn't think you were the type to care for others."

"Oh shut up I only did it because you're old."

Both of you went to get a clear view of the menu to get an idea of what you both wanted to order.

"What are you thinking Y/N?"

"I don't know I'll probably just get what I usually get."

"Personally I'm interested in trying their "special". Want to try it with me?"

"Do I have to? I really don't want to." you whined.

"You really haven't changed since college started huh Y/N? Never wanting to try different food. I'm telling you you're missing out on a lot of good food."

"Lily I don't want to argue about this right now."

"Whatever, order what you want."

Both of you placed your orders and went to take a seat at an empty table. "Did you see the cost for this Lily? They're practically scamming me with that price! I might as well get a full pizza box."

"Y/N the cheapskate of all cheapskates. Honestly I wouldn't be surprised if you dived into a dumpster if it meant you would save 5 cents on your order."

"Come on Lily I'm not that much of a cheapskate!"

"Y/N I'm just teasing you don't take it too seriously."

Teasing each other was something that both of you did to each other quite frequently. Both of you knew it was all fun and jokes but you liked to act as if you were taking what Lily was saying seriously.

Your orders arrived and both of you started to dig into your orders.

"Oh gross their special tastes horrible!"

"I thought you said I would be missing out Lily."

She rolled her eyes and you, and continued to eat the pizza.

"I thought you just said you didn't like it."

"It's called not being wasteful Y/N."

"Not like anyone would eat that shit anyways!"

Lily's eyed widened and she looked around.

"You didn't have to say that so loud Y/N."

You realized that you said that out loud and got embarrassed. "Can we go?"

"We haven't finished eating."

"I don't care I don't think I'll survive another second in here."

She wouldn't mind letting you sit in embarrassment in the pizza place. In fact she would normally get a slight kick out of it but she was getting second hand embarrassment from sitting next to you in there. "Fine we'll go."

Both of you got up and went back to the car continuing the drive to the cabin.

"Damn it I can't believe I said it so loud."

"Relax Y/N they'll probably forget about it in an hour max."

"You don't get it I probably can't ever go back their."

"Well good thing we don't live near that pizza place."

As you were driving towards the cabin you suddenly got a terrible feeling. You couldn't describe it but you felt as if you shouldn't continue the drive and turn back while you could.

Pulling into a random driveway you turned the car around and headed back home.

"Y/N what are you doing?"

"We're not going to the cabin anymore."

"What why?"

"It's something I can't des-"

"Y/N we're here wake up."

"Wha-what happened?"

"You fell asleep, it felt weird driving without you talking to me."

"O-oh I'm sorry Lily I didn't mean to leave you be on your own."

"It's fine Y/N at least you're awake now. Now come on let's get settled in here."

Though it was a dream you still had a certain feeling about this. Not a bad feeling as in something unfortunate happening to you or Lily but one where you feel as if you don't know something that you should. But you didn't want Lily to think you were crazy so you weren't about to bring it up to her.

Getting out of the car both of you grabbed your bags and headed inside the cabin with your belongings.

Immediately feeling warm once you both stepped in you felt more at ease. "Finally we're out of the cold right Y/N?"

"Yeah beats being outside or in the car."

"What do you want to do first Y/N?"

"How about we just pick out our rooms and get settled in?"

"Whatever you say."

You decided to pick out the room that was on the first floor and Lily went for the room that was on the second floor of the cabin. There were a few extra rooms that would remain empty for your visit since you originally planned with your other friends coming. While it didn't bother you too much it felt weird having a lot of unused space.

You started setting your things up and got comfortable with the room you would be staying in.

Once you got your things settled you left your room to go over to Lily's. As you made your way to her room you suddenly got a text from her.

"Y/N come to my room but be slow and don't make any noise. I think someone or something is in here."

A little shocked from her sudden message you were pondering if you should even go up there anymore. You texted her back.

"Lily are you sure? Shouldn't we call the police or something?"

"I don't want to call them if it ends up being something stupid. It'd just be a waste of their time."

Fuck

Before continuing to her room you decided to grab a knife from the kitchen. Ever so slowly creeping your way up to her room you were ready to strike in the case someone were to attack you.

After mustering up some courage you flung the door open only to hear an "Ow!"

It was Lily who was standing behind the door.

"Lily? Why are you standing there?"

"I was going to scare you once you came in. I wasn't anticipating you just flinging the door open like that."

"Oops sorry."

"Wait you brought a knife with you?!"

"Oh yeah it was just in case you know?"

"Whatever I'm never going to try to prank you again."

"You better not Lily."

"Yeah whatever. Wanna play some board games or something?"

"Why not? Beats being on our phones the whole time."

Going downstairs you went to the cabinet and looked at what games you could play.

"Want to play ddakji?"

"That isn't a board game but sure."

"You know how to play right?"

"Mhm"

"Alright let's go ahead and play janken to see who goes first."

"Jan - Ken - Pon!"

"Ha "Guu" beats "Choki" so I go first!"

"You got lucky this time Lily."

"Want to spice up this game of ddakji Y/N?"

"Sure, what are you suggesting?"

"The person who successfully flips the others ddakji over, the other has to take a shot of soju."

"Oh your on Lily!"

Lily got ready and threw her ddakji at yours. And of course she successfully flipped yours over so you had to take a shot now.

You went to grab the soju out of the cooler you brought and grabbed a glass so you could drink a shot.

"Come on my turn now!"

Time flew by. Both of you were drunk and both of your throws were getting sloppy.

"Yah!"

You threw the ddakji and were able to flip Lily's over.

"Damn your good Y/N."

She grabbed another shot and drank it quickly.

"Maybe we should call it there." Both of your faces were flushed pink and neither could get a sentence out without slurring your words.

"Maybe you're right."

You headed towards your room and collapsed on the bed.

You heard knocks at your door.

Your room was pitch black, no longer did the sunlight light up the room.

"How long was I alseep?" you thought to yourself.

The knocks continued so you got up and opened the door.

"Lily? What do you want at this hour?"

"I need to talk to you."

She walked in the room and you closed the door behind her. She sat on your bed and you sat down next to her. "What's wrong."

"It's just that I can't hide my feelings for you anymore Y/N. You're just so pretty I want to kiss you right now."

Whether it was the alcohol or your own desire is something you could find out later. You had to kiss this girl in front of you.

Both of you had the same idea as Lily also leaned in to kiss your lips.

"Y/N you're so pretty you know? You taste sweet."

Sliding your tongue into her mouth you felt her warm wet tongue. Fighting over dominance you realized that Lily had more tongue game than what you originally thought. She ended up winning the tongue battle.

"Did you think you could beat me Y/N?"

"Yeah."

Not wanting to admit defeat so easily you started to tickle her sides.

"H-h-hey that's cheating Y/N!"

"I don't care."

She was now on the bed beneath you. You stopped tickling her and took a moment to admire her. She was beautiful, truthfully you didn't think you would ever meet someone as perfect as Lily ever in your life.

However she didn't lay idol for very long. She took this moment to flop your positions with a swift motion and you were now under her. "Lily what are you?"

"Thought I'd lay there and let you be dominant?"

"Kinda."

She smiled and leaned down to kiss your lips. The kiss was more soft and gentle compared to the first time.

"You're so good for me Y/N."

"I love you Lily."

"I love you to Y/N now hold still for me."

She took this time to remove your clothing slowly and carefully until you were left with nothing but your bra and underwear.

"Fuck your so damn wet. Is this for me?"

"Only for you."

Using her pointer finger she put it up to your wet spot and pushed a little. "Please."

"What was that Y/N? I think you need to say it a little louder for me."

"Please." you said with more force in your voice.

"Speak up Y/N I still can't hear you."

"Damn it fuck me Lily!"

"Say it less loudly less time and drop the swear word. Those words have no place coming out of someone as pretty as you."

"Lily please fuck me."

You could see it in her eyes. She was getting a kick out of making you beg for her and yet here you were doing just as she told you.

Staying true to her word Lily pulled down your underwear and slid in 2 of her fingers.

"Ah"

She gently thrust her fingers in and out of you.

"Is this comfortable for you?"

"Yeah I'm okay."

Lily nodded and continued. She used her other hand to gently rub your clit. You felt your vision getting a bit blurry.

You reached for her chest. "I need more."

"Calm down Y/N I'll get there."

Picking up the pace she thrust her fingers faster into you. "Lily another finger please!"

"Your wish is my command."

She added a third finger and continued her fingering.

"Take my clothes off."

You did your best to undress Lily as she was fingering you and you felt your climax was about to happen.

Quickly taking her shirt and bra off you were able to get a view of Lily's stomach and breasts.

"Do you like what you're seeing Y/N?"

Before you could answer you reached your orgasm. Your eyes rolled back and your fluids spilled all over Lily's fingers.

She smiled contently and licked her fingers a few times. "It makes sense that a sweet girl would also taste sweet. Here have a taste."

Tasting yourself was far from a favorite activity of yours but since Lily was asking you felt compelled to do so.

Sticking your tongue out and licking your own fluids off of her fingers you tasted yourself. You felt a bit gross doing so but you tried your best to not make it clear.

"Do you like it?"

"Yeah"

"I'm glad."

Lily laid down on you. Both of your chests being smashed against each other she began sucking on your neck leaving marks on you. "Go to sleep for me we have a long day tomorrow."

You simply nodded and fell asleep.

Suddenly Lily's phone started vibrating. It was an incoming phone call from Bae.

"Yes Jinsol?"

"Did you do it yet?"

"Yup I finally confessed to her."

"Okay we'll be heading there tomorrow morning."

"We'll be waiting for you then."

Lily hung up the phone and fell asleep on top of you.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jonken is rock paper scissors in Japanese.

Ddakji is a Korean game.

If you're wondering why I mixed both in this smut....

I don't know ... just felt like it.

#girl group smut #kpop smut #smut #female idol smut #nmixx #nmixx smut #lily nmixx #lily smut #female reader #wlw

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amongemeraldclouds · 2 days ago

Text

sparks fly

Camping with Mattheo to celebrate the new year leads to a different type of firework show (fluff).

Mattheo Riddle x gf!Reader (modern au)

A/N: I live in a place where winter is mild and completely forgot it's too cold to go camping for some places rn. Suspend your belief for this fic! In this setting, it's still perfect camping weather.

Warning: smut implied in the end.

✿ Masterlist | ✿ Mattheo Riddle Masterlist | 965 words

The holidays at the Riddle's can be delicately summed up in one word: complicated. Christmas dinner was composed of tight-lipped conversation and awkward silences that made the entire affair feel more like a funeral than a party. The Riddle estate was majestic and imposing, the way a museum was rather than a home.

Thankfully, your New Year's celebration was up to you. Having had more than enough of your fair share of family drama, you proposed a getaway just for you and Mattheo. All he said was, "what would I do without you?" To which you replied with, "run out of fingernails to chew before we ring in the new year. Can't let that happen now, can I? I rather like all of you, fingernails and all."

To reach the campsite on time, you agreed to leave at 6AM. Mattheo in his gloriously nocturnal ways, decided to power through the evening and early hours of the morning so he'd make it on time. His bleary eyes and messy curls, adorable as they were, alarmed you.

You volunteered to take the first shift driving instead with a casual, "ladies first". With a festive playlist on blast and your offkey-but-passionate singing, the holidays were in full swing.

Leaning over to smile at Mattheo, you found his head tilted to one side of his shoulder, mouth hanging in peaceful slumber. You couldn't help but stop on the side of the road to take a picture for your growing collection of your boyfriend's silliest moments. The boy with a mean scowl and a penchant for danger let his guard down with you and it warmed your heart.

Your hands shook as you tried to stifle your giggles, careful not to wake him. You smiled in triumph when the photo was safely tucked into your camera roll.

The rest of the drive consisted of more singing, breathtaking sceneries, and exchanging horror stories with Mattheo when he finally woke up and took over the drive.

You tried to one up each other, going for darker and gorier tales. The sunrays painted them lighter and tamer than they actually were, but you'd find out soon just how scary they were when the sun hid behind the moon.

Setting up camp only required muscle memory at this point. You had been on so many camping adventures with Mattheo yet they were always as enjoyable as the first time.

You grilled meats and potatoes for dinner, while enjoying champagne and small treats as you cooked. Needless to say, your hearts and bellies were as full as holiday celebrations deemed they should be.

As you wound down for the night and settled into the tent, the silence amplified cricket chirps and rustling in the trees, sending a chill down your spine. Images of your horror stories from the drive flashed through your mind. Your panic swung into full gear when your light source went out, engulfing you in darkness. A strangled yelp escaped from your throat.

Your eyes searched in the dark only to be met by a sudden blinding light and the distorted features of Mattheo, as he held the flashlight under his chin. "Boo!"

Between fight or flight, your instinct was always going to be to fight. Before you could process what was happening, you lunged at Mattheo, knocking the flashlight to the ground.

It was Mattheo's turn to yelp at your sudden movements and he pressed his hands up in surrender. "You know I love your fiery spirit, but right now you're scarier than all those ghosts we talked about."

You laughed at his sudden admission. It still caught you off guard how much more of himself he could be around you. It set him off too, your laughter was infectious and it's his favourite sound. You rested your head on his chest as you laughed together, shoulders shaking and breath heaving. Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around you and held you close.

As your laughter faded, Mattheo leaned down to kiss your forehead. "Happy new year, love. Thanks for setting this all up."

"Better than Christmas?"

He rolled his eyes, "please, even Snape's lecture is better than Christmas with my family. This is way better."

You moved up then to kiss him and Mattheo caught the way the flashlight cast your shadows across the tent. He smirked, an idea forming in his head.

"I know that smile. What kind of nonsense are we getting into this time?" You matched his smile as you rested your arms on his chest.

His smirk grew wide to a full grin as he traced his finger playfully down your arm, sending electric sparks all the way down to your toes.

"Watch our shadows," he says, pointing to the silhouettes across you.

"You want to do shadow puppets?" You asked, moving your hands together to mimic a bird, just like you did as a child.

"Even better," he said, pausing for effect, "we can watch our shadows fucking."

You giggled at how silly it was, a wave of giddiness washing through you. Of course with Mattheo it would always turn sexual at some point, igniting your own desires in response to his. "So we can have our own firework show here?"

"You get the vision!" He responds, pulling you in for a kiss. It was so familiar by now the way your lips moved, knowing just where they fit against each other. Yet every moan and every gasp felt brand new. The champagne buzzed in your veins, burning with the intoxication of your desires.

You grinned when you both broke up for air, "well then love, let's make it one heck of a show."

He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear as he looked into your eyes. "That's my girl!" It was a happy new year indeed.

✿ Masterlist | ✿ Mattheo Riddle Masterlist

Credit: Divider by @strangergraphics

A/N: Funny how this grew from HC, to blurb, to now a full blown fic. Love it!

#mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle fanfic #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle #slytherin boys #amongemeraldcloudswrites #amongemeraldclouds fluff

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controversially-young-girlfriend · 2 days ago

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read me like a book 💌prof. spencer reid x reader

💋 office hours with your fav professor. oneshot smut with softdom spencer and praise 💋

you’re prone to skipping an occasional lecture - 9am is just too early to be up! you’re a week ahead on your developmental psych notes! but you’ve never missed a class with dr. spencer reid.

as much as you enjoy the course content (and actually do the required readings) your mind goes blank once professor reid enters the lecture hall and his words fade into the background as you admire his curly hair and soft eyes. you’re almost mad he’s so hot because your lack of focus just landed you a C+ on your recent essay. you’re embarrassed not at your own academic efforts but rather the effect he has on them.

as usual, you doll yourself up before heading to class and take a seat right in the middle where dr. reid tends to lay his eyes while lecturing.

after the heard of girls auditing the class finish talking to professor reid, you approach the front of the class to ask about your essay.

you’ve always loved talking to him after class, getting a few minutes of one-on-one time with him. he’s different when not lecturing, and has an endearing awkwardness that you’ve become infatuated with. you loved when a simple question turned into what felt like a personal lesson.

“hi dr. reid, i’m wondering if i could discuss my recent essay with you?”

“definitely, however i think the next class is starting in a few minutes. would you be okay to discuss it in my office?” he tells you and you feel yourself get hot. you’ve talked to him plenty of times but never in his office, your mind immediately fantasizing about all the things you’ve imagined him doing to you in there.

you try and remain composed on the walk there, making small talk to not let any signs of your schoolgirl crush on him show.

he opens the door for you, closing it before walking over to his desk. you hand him the essay and feel your heart flutter when your fingers grace each others briefly. you try your best to follow the feedback he’s adding in red pen but you’re transfixed on the way he’s moving his hands.

you snap out of it when he softly says your name, “i hope you’re not discouraged by the grade. you’re a smart girl.” you hope he doesn’t notice how hard you’re blushing at him calling you smart.

“i know you understand the concepts but your analysis needs to remain objective. i would have given you a B if you stayed closer to the assignment outline.”

the feedback is fair but you’re worried about your gpa. “is there anyway to do some extra credit or raise my grade?”

dr. reid tells you “come see me back here before the next assignment is due and we’ll go through it together.”

you’re grateful but dreading the end of this conversation and having to leave his office.

“thanks professor reid! i really enjoy these post-lecture conversations.” you know your words are implying something more, but you’re wondering if it shows.

dr. reid replies “me too.”

you guys make eye contact until he looks to the left and takes a deep breath. “by the way, most student-teacher relationships end horribly. not to mention they’re pretty explicitly banned in the contract i signed to guest lecture here.”

“oh my god oh um i’m sorry i didn’t mean to say anything that would make you uncomfortable.”

“don’t worry, you didn’t say anything. i think you just forgot that i make a career out of profiling people.” dr. reid tells you with a slight smile on his face

“so what gave it away then?”

“you’ve been blushing for the last 15 minutes and stumbling over your words despite being a normally eloquent student in class. you’re leaned into me talking right now and i’ve caught you staring at me multiple times.” he says while smiling. you’re relieved he’s not mad, but can’t quite identify his intentions of telling you this.

“well professor reid, you’re good at your job. but like you said i’m a smart girl, so it’s only fair i get to profile you back.”

you can tell you caught his attention with that, feeling him getting a bit nervous but leaning in to hear what you have to say. your legs are now touching as you list the little traits of his you’ve noticed all semester.

“you have a whole fan club of girls who come to your lectures and wait to talk to you. do you give all of them the student-teacher relationship talk? or am i just getting special treatment?”

he puts his hand on your thigh. “do you wear skirts this short when you talk to your other professors.” you’re shocked at how far he’s going but you don’t want him to stop.

“you’re easy to read, princess. i know when you’re sitting in my lectures and thinking about me. you subtly bite your lip and stare, and i can only imagine what you’re fantasizing about. i’d guess you get off on me being your older professor, me fucking you bent over my desk as i tell you how how you’re such a pretty little slut for me.”

is he a profiler or a mind reader? you don’t want to let him win but he looks at you self-satisfied and starts talking before you can think of a reply.

“and i’d place my job on the line that you’re wet just hearing that.”

“well professor reid, i’ll leave it to you to prove your theory.”

reid pushes up your skirt and feels your soaked panties. you watch him smile before pulling you into his lap and kissing you.

the makeout deepens as he grabs your waist, slowly guiding it to grind against him as his tongue is in your mouth. you hold him by the hair until he leans back to look at you. through heavy breaths he says “i’ve been thinking of you since i saw you in my first lecture.”

he takes your shirt and bra off, moving kissing your lips, down to your neck, and then down to your chest. you take off his cardigan and begin working on his button up shirt, leaving you both shirtless against eachother. “you’re so beautiful like this.” he tells you.

you feel him adjust your legs to take off your skirt and panties. slowly teasing his fingers at your entrance, he quickly dips a finger in just to tell you “you’re so wet, so desperate for me pretty girl.” as you try and rub against his hand for contact. he’s right, you need him badly right now.

dr. reid rubs circles on your clit and you let out a soft moan. he watches your face as he slips his fingers inside. “fuck you’re good, dr. reid.” you can tell being called by the honorific turns him on by the way he gripped you tighter and sighed. he takes his fingers out from inside you and pushes them into your mouth. you give him a show, looking him right in the eyes as you work your tongue around them. “you’re such a slut for me, baby.” you’re shocked that this sort of dirty talk is coming from your nerdy, cardigan wearing professor.

he pulls his fingers out and you unbuckle his belt. you palm him which earns a slight moan out of reid. “seems like you want me just as bad” you tell him. you pull down his boxers and he grabs your hair into a ponytail. with his other hand he lifts your chin slightly to ask, “well how bad do you want me?” you immediately begin going down on him, eager to impress.

you’re blissed out listening to the praises coming from him between the heavy breaths. “so pretty baby”, “taking me so well”

he lifts your head up, “wanna bend over the desk, sweetheart?” you gladly agree, anticipating him as he grips your hips and plants a kiss on your neck.

he’s big but you’re savouring every inch of professor reid inside of you. thrusting slowly as you adjust to the feeling. he speeds up as he talks you through it, “such a cute little slut sitting in my lectures imagining me fucking you like this. you feel so fucking good baby.” you begin to unravel with pleasure.

you can barely form a sentence but manage to ask “have a thing for fucking college girls, professor reid?” you say between moans.

he thrusts into you harder and positions his mouth right beside your ear, “just the ones who come into my office in short skirts to seduce me.”

you guys won’t last much longer, he feels your core tightening around him. “i want to watch you cum for me.” he tells you.

you unravel in his arms, with him finishing soon after. he holds you in his arms as you catch your breath. “maybe your profile was right about me, dr. reid” you say to him lightheartedly.

“you can call me spencer. although there is a definite appeal to being called dr. in this context” he says.

you help rearrange the papers on his desk that were pushed off earlier and get dressed again.

“um don’t worry about your essay grade. if you ever want to do this again perhaps i can count it as extra credit.” he smiles and tells you.

“i’d love that. i’ll be here after every lecture.” you say with a massive smile on your face.

he kisses you once more, “now go study. i’ll see you next week.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #professor spencer reid #criminal minds smut #criminal minds #matthew gray gubler #dr reid #criminal minds fanfiction

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sylvesterelle · 14 hours ago

Text

Meditations in an Emergency

Reader/Simon "Ghost" Riley/John "Soap" MacTavish

“Like it feels so good to get and give a compliment and we should normalize doing it more often. Strangers reaching out across the great abyss for a moment of connection,” you say, leaning back and gesturing broadly. “Ships passing in the night with naught but a toot-toot of mutual appreciation.”

“I don’t think that’s how the shipping industry works.” Or: How to live well and get railed through the power of compliments.

Part 1 of 2, 5,857 words, mature, tw: alcohol, cannabis

Read on A03

"I am the least difficult of men. All I want is boundless love. "

Frank O'Hara, "Meditations in an Emergency"

“I just think people should compliment each other more, that’s all,” you declare, biting the cherry off plastic sword that Kat, the bartender, had stuck in your Dirty Shirley. “Like we think these things all the time. Her scarf is pretty, or that guy’s got a cool haircut or whatever. We notice them, we think about them, but so rarely do we say it, you know? Even though being complimented is the best,” you say emphatically, using the tiny sword to punctuate your words.

Kat nods and gives you a second cherry, because Kat is good people. Kat serves you doubles while charging for singles and listens to you ramble and lets you spread your notebooks and laptop on the bar when it’s slow, like tonight.

It’s early on a Friday evening which means you’re supposed to be writing. You pay the bills as a researcher and ghostwriter during the week and you like it, you do—the flexibility to work strange hours, typing late into the night, remote so you write wherever you want like coffee shops and cocktail bars and anywhere noisy enough to drown out the more distracting of your thoughts. But you spend so much time devoted to other people’s work that you promised yourself you’d set weekends aside to work on your own ideas.

Easier said than done, when there isn’t a irate publisher on the other end setting deadlines and demanding pages. And the problem with your own ideas is that you just have so many of them; find it hard to devote yourself to one without getting distracted by another, a graveyard of drafts in various states of completion littering your hard-drive.

But routine helped, so there you’ve sat every Friday night for almost two months—even if you’ve spent proportionally less time writing than people-watching and sweet-talking Kat into making you interesting drinks off-menu (“This is a dive bar,” she’s told you more than once. “We don’t even a menu to be off of.”)

It’s not not part of your writing process, you reason. You’re a firm believer that life is stranger than fiction, and many of your best ideas have come from observations and unusual interactions. It’s what got you started on the importance of compliments in the first place, after all.

“I just think we should be more intentional about finding joy in each other. For example, what would you say, darling Kat,” you begin, batting your eyes at her sweetly, “if I told you that you look fucking incredible now and always, you’re so hot it gives me hives if I look at you straight on, and more specifically that little curl that’s coming out of your ponytail is particularly fetching and I like it a lot?”

Kat rolls her eyes, which is as good as a smile. “I would say you should slow down on the Shirleys,” she says long-sufferingly.

You wouldn’t say the two of you were friends, not really, but there was a familiarity and ease in the relationship now that warmed you. You’d met her your very first night, taking your normal ramble to learn a new town, begin to make sense of its curves and corners and spirit and mentally mark interesting places to return to. The neighborhood you’d found an apartment in wasn’t the best, but it was furnished and month-to-month and good enough for you. Best of all, you had only needed to wander in the snow a couple blocks before you’d struck gold; drawn like a moth where a plain, unmarked door had opened, spilling warm light and the sounds of overlapping laughter into the night.

Inside it really was a dive, all sticky floors and old dollar bills pinned to the ceiling, a jukebox that took dimes and a blonde bombshell behind the counter who served with a decided lack of smile. But a week of you showing up and chattering at her had cracked that icy shell enough to get a name and a few raised eyebrows instead of complete silence. By the time you’d earned your discount as a regular around the third week, she would venture to occasionally comment on your more interesting trains of thought, offer some searing observations and insights of her own if she was in a good mood.

A couple more weeks, and you knew her well enough to bring a second iced coffee with you when you arrived for the evening, Kat already pulling a bottle of Irish cream from the well as you removed the lids in a dance that had become comforting in its routine.

Yours sat mostly untouched, abandoned in favor of the syrupy-sweet mess Kat had waiting for you, while Kat slurps the last of her own, one hip propped against the other side of the bar as she issues her verdict on your…unique compliment.

“I don’t know if I’d particularly appreciate a stranger saying that to me. Don’t want strangers saying anything to me, really,” she frowns, “but particularly the bit about the hives.”

“Okay, I might have gone too hard out the gate with that one,” you admit. “More importantly, I think you might be in the wrong profession for strangers not talking to you.”

She flips you off, heading to where two regulars had slipped into place at the other end of the bar. It was still early enough in the night that the place was mostly empty, only a few singles and two-tops stopping for an after-shift drink, giving you and Kat plenty of time to talk. It’d get rowdy enough later on, the voices louder, the jukebox queue a little more violent—but you’d found that among the chaos was often when you did your best writing.

“Hives aside, you know what I mean though, right?” you continue when Kat returns. “Like it feels so good to get and give a compliment and we should normalize doing it more often. Strangers reaching out across the great abyss for a moment of connection,” you say, leaning back and gesturing broadly. “Ships passing in the night with naught but a toot-toot of mutual appreciation.”

“I don’t think that’s how the shipping industry works.”

You ignore this, already imagining renting a sailboat somewhere sunny, tropical. “I always thought it’d be fun to be a sailor,” you say dreamily. “Kerouac was a Merchant Marine, did you know?"

Kat makes a face.

“What, you didn’t like the book?” You’d loaned her a copy of The Dharma Bums the week before, slim and beloved enough that you carried it with you instead of getting it from the local library, like you normally did. You had a collection of library cards now, rattling around in an old Altoid tin—the only souvenirs you kept from all the various cities you’d visited in your travels.

“It was fine. Good, even, if you’re into that sort of thing,” she said, swirling her coffee around. “He’s just so fucking mopey. I wanted to shake him, like c’mon man, you need to stop thinking about your life and actually fucking live it.” It was the most animated Kat got, which was just slightly more expressive than usual—eyes narrowed a little further, three degrees more derision in her tone.

Kat preferred nonfiction. History. Facts. Still read everything you recommended, but rarely had finished one where she didn’t get frustrated with protagonists making dumb decisions or whining about their life choices. And while some of the books she recommended to you were a little dry at times, they were certainly interesting—and the last one about organ harvesting had been surprisingly catalytic for story ideas.

You shrug, acknowledging the point. She’s not wrong, but you tended to live most of your life in your own head and your own worlds, so it didn’t bother you in quite the same way. Although, now that she mentions it…“You know, that’s kind of my earlier point actually, giving someone a compliment is like the ultimate shortcut to living outside your head. You’re not all wrapped up in your own issues and thoughts, but appreciating something around you. Even if you don’t say it—which you should—it means you’re paying attention. Noticing.”

You drain the last of your Shirley, swapping it out for the iced coffee and swirling around the diluted ice. “Proposal: we make a game of it, tonight. We notice.” It wouldn’t be that different from what you and Kat normally did; sharing little observations on other patrons, trading theories on this person’s job or that person’s backstory. They’d just be a little more…intentional about it. "Keep your eye out for any interesting hats or weird pins or extremely sexy noses and come tell me. That way we can both enjoy it,” you conclude, clasping your hands together.

You knew better than to suggest Kat actually compliment anyone; you were optimistic, not delusional.

“What constitutes an extremely sexy nose?”

“Oh Kat, that’s something you feel in your heart,” you shake your head pityingly.

She rolls her eyes and heads to the other end of the bar where a nicely-dressed couple are sinking uncertainly onto the cracked vinyl stools, looking around like they might be feeling a little out of place. You meet the woman’s gaze, smiling broadly. “I love your dress,” you say, and feel the joy of her blush bubble sweet and bright in your veins.

..........

You pride yourself on having a lot of good ideas, but this is one of your best. You get more writing than usual done, unusually productive while riding the high of giving out compliments left and right. Not so many that it feels insincere and never any you don’t mean. But Baader–Meinhof was a real sonofabitch because it’s true that the more you look, the more you see to appreciate.

Like Bobby, the union electrician with his first name embroidered on the pocket of his work-shirt. It caught your eye because it wasn’t machine-printed but carefully done by hand, illuminated when he leaned over to order a Schlitz. His wife’s work, he shares when you comment on it. She’s paid special for her embroidery, but still makes time to do his name on all his shirts, “so I can carry her love around all day,” he tells you, unabashed even when his friends tease him good-naturedly.

Then there was the lady whose cheetah-print nails matched her furry coat, who winked at you when she caught you looking admiringly from across the bar. Right after her was the burly biker who sat down to show you a Halloween photoshoot of his toy poodle when you complimented the cute photo on his lockscreen. Others in between, some you spoke to, some you didn’t—but all you appreciated in a way you vowed to do more in the future.

Inevitably, little bits of what you observe throughout the night trickle onto the page, helping flesh out bits of characters and sparking ideas you jot down for later. You wouldn’t know until later if you’d end up keeping any of it, but it’s a nice thought to know you’ll always have some part of this moment—the people, the place, the time—woven into your story. A little souvenir in-and-of-itself.

Though the night gets progressively busier, Kat swings by from time to time to share her observations: money fished from strange locations, custom bank cards, or funny pins she got close enough to read when customers leaned over the bar to shout their orders over the sounds of the music—partially your fault, after you complimented an old geezer’s song choice and spent twenty minutes with him combing through the catalogue and cackling as you fed dime after dime, queuing enough dad-rock to last a fair few hours.

All told, you’re feeling fucking incredible as it nears midnight and the synth solo from Toto’s “Rosanna,” has you wiggling in your seat. You’ve a few thousand words under your belt and the high off of all those little moments of kinship is making you feel sparkling and happy and well, which—historically speaking—is sometimes a challenge for you.

You grin at Kat when she slumps next to you, enjoying a brief reprieve from new customers.

“Whatcha got for me, killer?” you ask, fishing in your bag for a granola bar for her. She takes it with a grateful look, shoving half of it in her mouth and talking as she chews.

“You’re gonna fucking love this. A mohawk, dude. In 2024.”

You perk up, looking around the room. It was pretty packed now, but you couldn’t believe you’d missed a cut that attention-getting. “Liberty spikes?” you confirm. You adored the punks of your acquaintance; always had interesting thoughts and insider tips on the local music scene.

Kat shakes her head. “Nah, it was cut short. Gym rat type, I think. Good tip, nice accent. Scottish,” she clarifies while inhaling the last of the granola bar. “Talked some shit about the ‘natural supremacy of whisky over bourbon’ when he ordered a Maker’s for his friend.”

You hum, still craning your head. “See where they sat?”

She shakes her head. “Asked about smoking though, so probably on the patio.”

Calling it a patio was generous—a small bit of grass with a couple plastic chairs and an ashtray, mostly. But there was a heat-lamp that worked roughly sixty percent of the time, which made the bar very popular with those in the know on cold nights like this.

“Speaking of, ‘bout time to take your break?”

If it wasn’t too busy, Frank, the doorman, often agreed to watch the bar while you and Kat split a joint in the back, sitting in companionable silence and pointing out shooting stars and passing satellites—clear skies a benefit of the city’s frigid nights. Kat knew a startling amount about astronomy but nothing about astrology; could tell you the history of the visible universe up to the surface of last scattering, but just blinked at you when you had asked if she was a Scorpio or a Capricorn.

Kat checks the clock then whistles to get Frank’s attention while you shove your laptop into your bag. You don’t bother with your coat—your cheeks are flushed the warmth of the crowded room and you don’t mind the cold, not really.

The patio looks abandoned, silent but for the wet sound of car tires moving through the snow-choked alley. Not totally surprising; most balk at below-zero temps even with the lamp. Snow clumps heavy and wet on top of the plastic chairs and overturned garbage pail that serves as a footrest but the air is crisp and clear, a thousand tiny pinpricks of light visible in the heavens. You breathe in the cold, night air and feel clean and sweet and cracked open wide, just pouring out love into the world.

Movement in your periphery catches your eye and oh, Kat was right, not a punk at all.

You’re not quite sure what to make of the two men standing half-shadowed near the lamp. Big is the first word that comes to mind and perhaps that’s sufficient for now, since you can’t seem to stop looking at the breadth of their shoulders and the curve of those strong thighs long enough to notice anything else. Kat had thought gym-rat but you’d put money on those bodies not just being for show—there was too much power, too much potential for carnage disguised in the plush softness that comes from muscles in repose.

“Why hullo there, barkeep,” the man with a shaggy, soft-looking mohawk greets Kat jovially, the Scottish accent just as charming as promised. “And barkeep’s friend,” he says, nodding to you as you come close enough to finally get a good look at his face. To latch on to details like the too-blue shade of his eyes and the too-sharp canines in his smile, the silvery-white starburst of a scar across his chin.

“Christ you’re pretty,” you hear yourself say. This happens sometimes, your mouth just venturing off on its own to get you into trouble.

Kat groans, used to it, as the man laughs warmly. “Funny, I was just thinking the same thing,” he purrs, propping the lit cigarette between his lips and sticking out a hand. His palm is warm and callused against your own as you properly introduce Kat and yourself.

“I’m Soap, this here’s Ghost,” the man offers in turn, nodding towards his friend who steps forward, murmuring a quiet greeting. He’s enough in the light now to reveal dark eyes shadowed under a hood, a skull-print mask balaclava pushed up far enough to accommodate a lit cigarette.

“Fuck me, that’s cool as shit,” you grin at him, immediately charmed by the weirdness of it all.

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” the man says affably, his voice a rumble deep in his chest. He doesn’t smile but there’s a little twist of his mouth that could be amused, if you squint.

“Jesus Christ,” Kat mutters next to you, eyes shutting briefly in second-hand embarrassment. “She’s on a mission about compliments tonight, noticing people,” she explains with bemused emphasis as she clears off the chairs and kicks snow off the garbage can.

“I just think it’s important to be more open with our affection, even with strangers. Especially with strangers,” you argue, dropping into one of the seats and pulling out the battered Altoid tin that holds your stash and a few pre-rolled joints. “Will this bother you?” you ask the men, holding up the joint.

They shake their heads, amused.

“Good, because it’s my fucking bar,” Kat snorts, grabbing it from your fingers and dropping into the chair next to you.

“What, you own this place?” you say, flabbergasted. “And you never told me?”

Kat holds the joint in her mouth and cups a hand around her lighter, coaxing it to life despite the wind. She takes a deep drag, tilting her head up before releasing a thick cloud of smoke into the air.

It looks wicked cool until she collapses in half, coughing a little desperately on the tail end of the exhale. You can’t fucking blame her; you’d bought it off your teenage neighbor, a science prodigy who claimed to have developed the perfect strain. Ivy League, he called it, since it had paid for his entire college fund.

Kat straightens up, red face feigning composure as she passes you the joint. “You never asked,” she finally says.

And that was just…well, fair, actually.

“Huh,” you say, trying futilely not to cough on your own exhale and kissing away any dreams you had of looking cool in front of all the fashion models around you. “You know, I did wonder when you’d ever get in trouble with your boss about the free drinks thing. And the drinking on the job thing. And the this on the job thing,” you say, frowning as you contemplate the joint.

You offer it up to the men and Soap takes it, your hands brushing long enough to send a little fizz through your blood.

“You’ve known each other long, then?” Soap asks, taking a puff. Turning a vibrant shade of red as he heroically--and futilely--tries to hold in a cough.

“Oh, we go waaaaay back,” you tell them very sincerely. “I helped her bury the body of her ex-husband years ago, a mafioso named Jimmy the Janitor because he cleaned up, if you know what I mean.”

“I met you two months ago. And I’m a lesbian,” Kat contradicts blandly.

“I didn’t know that, either!” you exclaim, smacking her in the shoulder. “What the fuck, dude, I would have been flirting with you from the start.”

“You’re not my type,” she says devastating, and Ghost snorts when you mime stabbing yourself in the heart dramatically. The joint glows red between his full lips, crossed with scars that shine silvery in the moonlight and trail up beyond his mask. Exhales in one long, smooth breath and looks suitably smug about it, the fucker.

“I do seem to remember you saying something earlier about me being ‘so hot I give you hives.’” Kat reminds you. “You telling me that wasn’t flirting?” she asks with an arched brow.

“Nah, that’s just being neighborly,” you beam.

“Then I shudder to think what your flirting does look like.”

“That’s the appropriate response, honestly.”

Ghost barks out a laugh and you shoot him a cheeky wink before turning back to Kat. “Alright killer, gimmie the goods then. What is your type?” you prod her with your foot. “Is it a black cat, golden retriever thing? I can bark, babe, just say the word.”

Soap damn near chokes on his drink but Kat just sighs, sounding more fond than exasperated. She takes the joint and leans in, bringing your faces only a few inches apart. You watch, riveted, as she brings it to her cherry-red lips and inhales deeply. Holding your gaze, she leans ever so slightly closer, the moment stretching into eternity before she blows a slow, deliberate cloud of smoke directly into your face. You touch your mouth absently, wonder if you might be drooling.

“MILFs,” she says finally, devastatingly, before tucking the joint between your fingers and heading back inside—as good as a kiss on the mouth from anyone else.

“Steamin’ bloody Jesus,” Soap's voice is rough and low as the door closes behind Kat.

“You’re telling me, pal,” you say, sinking comically in your chair. “I think she broke me.” You’d already been drunk off the night’s joy but now you felt lightheaded with desire, literally dizzy with it.

This is not an uncommon response to Kat, you suppose. Nor, you expect, to the pretty lads that remain.

You summon your forces and sit back upright, kicking over the newly empty chair over in offering. Ghost takes it, the plastic frame creaking under his bulk while Soap drops down on the garbage can, resting his elbows on jean-clad knees. You pass around the rest of the joint in companionable silence, and it’s just…nice, all of it. The cold at your back and the heat of the lamp on your face, the fading alcohol buzz replaced by the sweeter, steadier high of the weed, always better at gentling your nerves and clearing your head. The easy camaraderie of smokers cast out into the cold, the same thing in almost every city and country you’d ever seen. You smile, thinking back on all those shared lighters and bummed cigarettes over the years. All those ships passing in the night.

“Getting’ us a refill,” Soap finally says, standing up and snagging Ghost’s empty glass, hooking their fingers together briefly in the action. You note it and immediately drop the thought, scalded. Know you will literally, actually combust if let your brain run-rabbit imagining the two of them together. All that muscle, all that strength, curved around each other, curved around you…

“What’ll it be, bonnie?” Soap’s warm voice snaps you out of your reverie and you flush, sure from his smirk that he can read the direction of your thoughts. You were legendarily bad at poker—couldn’t keep a neutral expression if they paid you to.

“Dealer’s choice, please and thank you,” you grin at him despite your embarrassment; turning down a free drink was against your moral code.

He gives you that shark-like smile again and Ghost tsks as he heads inside. “You’ll probably regret that, birdie. Johnny’s got atrocious taste.”

“Aye can fucking hear you, you Manc twat,” Soap calls from the door, a little extra Scottish in his snark. Ghost chuckles lowly, stretching his feet out into your space.

“It’s Manchester then, our kid?” you tease, kicking your foot playfully against his combat boot. Leaving it there when he lets you. “Whose your fighter then, Liam or Noel?”

He thinks for a moment. “Liam. I like his spunk.”

“’A man with a fork in a world of soup,’” you quote, nodding approvingly. “I get that.”

You toy with the Altoids tin and debate lighting up another one.

Ghost fishes a pouch of rolling tobacco out of the kangaroo pocket of black hoodie and holds it up, raising an eyebrow. “Clever boy,” you praise, and he leans forward to pass it to you, pale hands dwarfing your own. When he settles back in his chair, he tangles his feet with yours properly and you feel the blush rise on your cheeks.

You prep the blunt in a practiced motion, balancing the tin on your knees as you sprinkle the peaty tobacco overtop the flower. “I’ve always been more of a Blur over Oasis fella, myself,” you finally offer to distract from the weight of his gaze. “Damon Alburn, the man you are,” you say fervently.

“Oi, we talking about the Gorillaz then?” Soap calls out, juggling glasses as the door closes behind him, muffling the chatter from inside. “Fucking choon after choon, them,” he declares, dropping back onto the pail.

He passes Ghost a rocks glass filled with an inch of amber that matches his own, gaze locked on where your tongue runs across the filter paper, wetting it. He trades you the finished smoke for a glass with something alarmingly orange in it, another plastic sword stuck with three cherries laid across the top.

You sniff skeptically, all sweet and citrusy and strong. “This must be off-menu.”

“Dive bar innit, no menu to be off of,” Soap points out, and you smile at the familiar response.

You take a curious sip, looking up in surprise when you taste a bright splash of orange and vanilla across your tongue. “That’s fucking incredible,” you say, eyes wide. “What is it and why haven’t I been having it all night?”

Soap grins at you, looking suspiciously pleased with himself. “Had a feeling you were a lass that enjoyed a slow, comfortable screw against the wall.”

Ghost groans, and you squint suspiciously at Soap. “Who doesn’t, what’s that got to do with my drink?”

Soap laughs, delighted. “That’s the name of the drink, bonnie. A Slow Comfortable Screw Against The Wall,” he says with emphasis.

Ah. Well. That’s—oh, motherfucker. “Does Kat know that?” She’s probably laughing her ass off at you inside, the sadist.

“Oh, aye. She seemed amused. Though she made an unnerving amount of eye contact while stabbing the wee cherries,” he says, eying the garnish. “Scariest fucking thing I’ve seen in a minute. Rather like someone we know, actually,” he says, giving Ghost a wry look.

Soap pulls out his own lighter to coax the blunt to life, a battered bic with his name scrawled in thick, Sharpied letters. He lets out a pleased sigh as the smoke curls through the cold air, then leans forward to rest his elbows back on his knees.

“Now, as for why you weren’t getting it slow, comfortable or otherwise before now I couldn’t say,” he says, blue eyes glinting with mischief when they light on yours. “But I think I speak for both of us when I say we’re more than happy to provide for the rest of the night. Isn’t that right L.T.?”

“Right enough there, Johnny.” Ghost’s voice is closer to a growl, setting off a delightful curl of heat in your belly.

You nibble on your straw as if their attention wasn’t going straight to your head, twice as intoxicating as the drink or the drugs. “You know what they say about variety and spice of life, though. Might get bored with just a screw against the wall. Got any thoughts on horizontal surfaces?” you tease, enjoying the way Ghost smirks around the blunt.

But oh, is that a dimple you suddenly see carving out of one scarred cheek? Before you’re even conscious of it you’re leaning in to get a closer look, propping one hand on his knee. “I adore your dimple,” you tell him very seriously, undoing any hope you had of appearing cool and hard-to-get. “It is very cute.”

You give him a businesslike pat on the thigh and start to pull away, but he catches you gently around the wrist.

“Oh, sweet girl,” he purrs, petting over the soft skin of your wrist. You try to play your delighted shiver off as one of chill. “We’ll keep you plenty entertained, don’t you worry about that. Bored is the last thing you’ll be, right, Johnny?” Ghost squeezes gently before releasing you.

“Oh, I fuckin’ swear to it, L.T,” Soap says, winking at the other man before unfolding his big bulk from the garbage can. “We’ll give you what need, bonnie, promise. Starting with this.” Then he’s got an arm around your waist and you’re in the fucking air and—

Oh, that’s not so bad, actually.

Soap sinks into the lawn chair and settles you across his lap, surrounding you with delicious warmth and a scent like peat and sea air. Your brain goes a bit soft and cottony for a moment and you latch on to the gentle pressure of his arms. Manhandling has always been a shortcut to your most devastated self, the kind of stupid and sweet and sated that you’ve only found once or twice through chemistry or luck or sheer fucking determination, and it bodes very well for the night to come.

Besides, for all he wears only a bomber jacket, the Scotsman is radiating heat like a furnace and it’s the perfect sensory foil to the plummeting temperatures, a few clouds beginning to fleck the sky.

“Saw you shiver. Couldn’t let our girl be cold now can I?” Soap says, chucking you under the chin like a kid. Should be stupid but you fucking like it, can’t help but smile up at him. Can’t remember the last time someone treated you so sweet, like you were something to protect. To treasure.

Ghost’s eyes are fond on the both of you, reaching out to trap Soap’s feet the same way he had yours a few moments before, big hand reaching out to cup possessively around your knee.

There’s no reason it should be as easy as it is, getting all wrapped up in each other as the night stretches on and the clouds continue to gather, chatting quietly and smoking through the rest of the blunt and finishing your drinks just as the first fat, fluffy flakes of snow begin to fall.

You watch, delighted, as it comes down in a sudden flurry, a magical, glimmering coat that turns the world into one whole thing. Untouched and perfect and silent except for the tides of your breath and the slight hum of the heat lamp, small sounds within a vast, quiet night.

You sigh in Soap’s arms, totally and unexpectedly content, luxuriating in the way your blood hums in anticipation of the night’s inevitable conclusion.

People asked if you got lonely, sometimes, travelling the way you did. Never staying anywhere for more than a few months, only occasionally breezing through past towns for a few effusive, loved-up reunions before the wind starts pressing at your back.

And though it’s true you’ve been seeking a place of your own, a place where you could belong, this, too, means something. To have these beautiful, fleeting moments of connection with once-strangers, to lose yourself completely in the headiness of such quick intimacies, no less passionate or kind or devastating for their brief duration. All those countless moments of connection—romantic, physical, platonic—coalescing into a kind of soft sweetness to hold on to long after you’ve forgotten a name or had a face grow fuzzy with memory.

All of that sweetness is swirling inside you as you nudge Soap’s chin with your head, drawing his attention from where he’d been conversing softly with Ghost, his hand petting gently, absently, along your waist.

“Take me home?” you ask softly, and his eyes melt at the question, his hand coming up to thumb a little desperately at your mouth.

“Oh, the Cap’n would love that,” Ghost snorts. “Fall arse over tits over a sweet thing like you walking through the door.”

“My home,” you clarify, though you’re not opposed—especially if their friend (captain?) looks anything like them. “I live like four blocks that way,” you say, chucking a thumb over your shoulder.

“Well why didn’t you say so, darlin’,” Soap says, standing up and dumping you on your feet. Before you can be too offended, he grabs your chin and presses his lips firmly against yours, searing hot and leaving you breathless when he pulls away. You look up at him a little dazed and he pets his thumb across your chin, grinning. “Ghost is right. Too sweet for your own good, bonnie. T’wouldn’t be right for us to let you walk home alone, sweet thing like you. Not in neighborhood like this.”

“Au contraire mon frère, I’m fast as shit,” you tell him. This occasionally happened when you got crossfaded in particularly the right way—went tearing off down the darkened street, drunk on the feeling of wind against your face and your heart hammering in your chest. Feeling like you could fucking fly. “No bad guy’s gonna catch me, no way.”

“That right, little rabbit?” Ghost moves as silent as his name, a sudden warmth at your back without you even noticing he left his chair. He curves that big body around you, nipping at the soft skin at your neck and caging you in against the firmness of Johnny’s chest. “Gonna let us chase you?” he teases.

The thought sends goosebumps rising along your arms. To be wanted, to be chased, to be caught. You shiver again and Ghost groans when you lean back against him, tipping your head back to nip at his jaw in return. “Home. Now,” he commands lowly, pulling down his mask.

You can’t help your shit-eating grin as you tug them both through the door and through the thinning, late-night crowd to collect your long-abandoned things from the bar.

Kat eyes the three of you suspiciously. “If I find cum anywhere on that fucking patio I will have your balls in a bear trap,” she threatens.

“No promises,” you wink at her, laughing as she flips you off. You shrug on your coat and pick up your bag, but Ghost immediately appropriates it, slinging it over a shoulder. Ignores your amused tug on the strap, already looking over your head presumably to plot the swiftest exit.

“Don’t wait up, babe!” you say, blowing a kiss to Kat as Ghost tows you and Soap toward the door.

“Call me if you need help burying the bodies,” Kat offers in response, and you cackle at the uncertain looks the late-night crowd shoots you both.

And then it’s just the three of you and the cold and the night, pressed together like you’re one body in the snow-crowned streets.

#call of duty #ghoap #ghoap x reader #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley

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akookminsupporter · 3 days ago

Note

I'm from a country where mainstream media speaks basically nothing of Kpop. And the only two groups I've ever seen mentioned are BTS, multiple times over the years, and Blackpink a couple of times. That is all. Every single other group out there is viewed by our mainstream media as part of the niche that kpop is for people around here. And as such, every group other than the two above are nameless and faceless to regular people. That said, before BTS, there was only ONE specialized magazine, which was talking about all types of Asian originated music (Jpop, Kpop, Jrock...), but now you have way more. So mainstream is basically ignoring the very existence of Kpop except for BTS, but specialized magazines for young people have never talked about it more than they do now and have never been as big in numbers.

I don't know if that answers your question perfectly, but for me we're a state of "BTS has "made it" in terms of international popularity and outside of the niche they were from, but from 99% of the rest of the Kpop groups, I'd say : wait and see. Give it 10 more years and let's see where we stand, notably in terms of longevity. Multis used to tell us we were stupid for even thinking BTS would still exist as a group after they were over 25, then they used to tell us that each members would go do their own thing and that would break the group (actors, solo career, TV host...), then they used to tell us that military service would 100% bring the end of the group's success, and then they've been telling us that once the members get families, then it'll be all over (so I'm assuming that these things used to kill a group before... which yeah, no comment). But all I'm seeing is that it's still going to be near impossible to get a ticket to any BTS concert when they decide to tour again. So yeah, since BTS is *still* breaking the mold, I'm not sure we can ever say that any group issued from Kpop can even dream of ever achieving anything close to their success, but I'm sure that a few groups will still manage to achieve some relative "high" success in comparison to the rest of Kpop before BTS though.

Hi, Anon. How’ve you been?

Yeah, I agree with you. In my country, some K-pop groups have performed, and the press hasn’t reported on it—I only found out through social media, which I think says a lot.

I’ve noticed how BTS has become almost interchangeable with the term “K-pop.” Many people immediately think of BTS when K-pop is mentioned. You see it everywhere: in the press, across social media, and even in casual conversations. It’s not something I’ve noticed with other groups—not even with BP.

BTS stands out in so many ways, both within the K-pop industry and beyond. But if we’re talking specifically about the KPOP industry, I think they’ve shattered a lot of the norms and expectations around how long a group can stay relevant and successful. From what I’ve read, they’ve redefined what longevity looks like in K-pop. Most groups tend to peak early and fade out over time, but BTS is still at the top after more than a decade. They’ve not only maintained their influence but expanded it, which is almost unheard of.

Another thing that sets them apart is their solo careers. It’s rare for every single member of a group—especially a group as large as BTS—to have such incredible success individually. With BTS, all seven of them have proven themselves as solo artists and their debuts have been successful and I think this isn’t just unusual in K-pop; it’s rare in the music industry as a whole.

Something that definitely sets BTS apart is ARMY. Sure, other groups have big fandoms, but none are on the same level as ARMY. It’s not just about the numbers, though those are undeniably huge—it’s about how organised and strategic they are. Beyond the usual streaming and voting campaigns, ARMY knows how to play the game and adapt when the rules change. I don’t see that same level of adaptability or cohesiveness in other fandoms.

What’s even more interesting is that ARMY isn’t just about supporting the group—they’ve created a community that operates almost like its own ecosystem. Whether it’s charity projects, trending hashtags, or defending BTS online, they’re always active, always mobilised. It’s one of the reasons BTS has been able to achieve what they have. Their fandom isn’t just along for the ride; they’re actively shaping the journey. And thanks to that, the fandom has become just as famous as BTS.

Tickets for their future concerts will definitely be hard to get, especially for the first one they hold. The fandom keeps growing every day, even though the group has been on pause for a while. That’s impressive as well.

I think we can conclude that no other K-pop group is on BTS's level. Many of them have been successful to a certain extent, and surely many will manage to break barriers outside of South Korea, but I don’t think they’ll reach the level BTS is at.

What will also be interesting to see is what BTS will do when they return. What kind of music will they create? Will it reflect their personal growth and experiences during their time apart, or will it stay closer to the sound and themes that first brought them worldwide recognition? It’ll also be fascinating to observe how their solo projects influence—or perhaps don’t influence—their group dynamics and future releases.

Another intriguing aspect will be how the K-pop industry and the global music scene react to their comeback. Most importantly, it’ll be worth watching how their fandom, embraces them after this pause.

BTS’s return has the potential to be a pivotal moment—not just for the group, but for the industry and their fans—and it’s exciting to imagine how it will all unfold.

The least I expect is that the new songs they’ll surely release will be longer than three and a half minutes.

#ask #anon #bts #kpop #preg 1030

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sammycutiepie · 3 days ago

Text

"Beyond Love, Only Chaos Remains"

Jinx

writer's note: i think that this has been one of the most toxic and sick things that i have ever written, but still, loved it, it's my cup of tea you guys. anyways, if you guys don't know this little twisted histories comes from my arcane imagines, i'll let the link down there if someone's interested, tomorrow is vi's turn ;)

link:

warnings: smut, lesbian sex, fingering, squirts, spitting, use of drugs, mentions of blood and weird kinks, emotional manipulation, stalking demeanor, obsessive and toxic relationship dinamyc, jinx and reader have a lot of mental issues but they still cool... i think that's all, have fun!

You always knew Jinx was special. From the very first moment you saw one of her videos, something clicked inside you, as if her colorful chaos and her manic laughter were the perfect echo of a dark corner in your own mind. It wasn’t just admiration; it was devotion, an inexplicable connection that made you feel like you were destined to find her, to know her… and maybe, to be part of her world.

Your room became an altar to Jinx: the walls covered in screenshots from her streams, printed cutouts of her most iconic photos, and even a monitor dedicated exclusively to playing her best clips on repeat. Each item had a purpose; every detail about her, no matter how insignificant, was another piece in your puzzle. You knew that her real name was Powder, but she felted comfortable being called by Jinx. You knew she about her taste for sweet things, that she preferred “Overblast” matches in chaos mode, and that despite her constant laughter, there were moments of silence between each stream, where she seemed… alone.

The obsession started as a normal interest, at least that’s what you told yourself. But soon you found her postal address in a stream where, by accident, her camera captured the name of her building. It was just curiosity at first, right? You convinced yourself there was nothing wrong with being near her world, even if it meant spending hours in front of her building, imagining what she was doing, if she was thinking about her fans… if she was thinking about you.

Your username, HexedByJinx, first appeared in her chat months ago, when you dared to donate a significant amount during one of her streams. "Oh, wow! HexedByJinx, thanks for the support. I guess someone’s really enchanted by me, huh?" Her laugh echoed in your ears for days. You saved the clip and played it over and over until you could almost recite every word in the exact tone she used.

Soon, HexedByJinx stopped being just a name in the chat. You started sending her carefully selected gifts through her fan mailbox: a package of crumble cookies with a note that said, "To keep your energy up during those long matches," a necklace with a small rocket to match her explosive aesthetic, and a handwritten card that took you days to perfect. You never received a direct response, but in one stream, you saw her wearing the necklace. Your hands shook with excitement.

When she announced an event to meet fans, your chance finally arrived. You knew you couldn’t just be another face in the crowd. You spent weeks planning what to say, what to bring, and how to make Jinx remember you. You even designed a small digital painting inspired by her aesthetic and printed it as a gift. "She’ll see how much I care. She’ll know I’m different," you thought.

On the day of the event, you arrived early, watching the other fans as you waited for your turn. Jinx’s fans filled every corner of the place, many with blue or pink-dyed hair, as a tribute to their favorite influencer. Others carried signs and laughed nervously, but you stayed silent, studying them all. "They don’t understand how special she is," you thought, with a mix of pity and disdain. You were among them, but you weren’t like the others. You were completely focused on one goal: for her to notice you.

"Next!" shouted one of the organizers, signaling that it was your turn.

You took a deep breath and stepped forward. When you finally stood before her, your heart was beating with almost unbearable intensity. There she was, Jinx, with her vibrant blue hair and mischievous smile, like a living work of art. But what struck you the most was seeing her up close, so real.

Upon seeing you, Jinx’s eyes locked onto yours with that intensity you’d always seen through the screen, but now it made you feel naked, vulnerable.

You took a cautious step forward, trying not to show any nerves. You extended the painting you had brought for her, a vibrant, chaotic portrait reflecting her personality.

"This is for you. I made it thinking of everything you represent," you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

She took the painting and examined it closely. Her fingers traced the lines of the design as a satisfied smile formed on her face.

"Wow, this is… amazing." Her eyes lifted to meet yours, filled with curiosity. "Wait, you’re…?"

"I’m… well, I’m a big fan," you said, feeling your words sounding clumsy. You decided to take a risk. "I’m the one who always comments on your streams… HexedByJinx."

For a second, her expression changed. She tilted her head, as if trying to remember. Then, her eyes lit up and a wide smile spread across her face.

"Oh, of course! HexedByJinx. I thought you were a bot or something. You’re real. How crazy."

Her reaction made you laugh, easing your nerves a bit.

"You’re the one who always sends those donations with weird messages and crazy gifts. What was it you said? 'Make the world explode a little more'?"

You laughed nervously, nodding.

"Yeah… I tend to say that. I thought you wouldn’t remember."

"Remember? Please, you always make my streams more interesting. Plus, those gifts you send…" She held up the painting. "Like this one. You’ve got style, you know?"

You felt your cheeks heat up under her attention, but you forced yourself to keep composure.

"I just wanted to thank you for everything you do. You inspire me to be braver, more… free."

She studied you carefully, her gaze more intense than you expected. Then, a sly smile crept onto her face.

"Brave, huh? That sounds fun. So, what do you do to be so brave?"

You hesitated for a moment before responding.

"I’m a streamer, like you. Though not as big, of course…" you said, laughing nervously. "But I try to create content that connects with people, like you do."

Jinx rested her chin on her hand, looking at you with renewed interest.

"Streamer? That explains why you’re always in my streams. And what kind of content do you make? Something explosive, or are you one of the boring ones?"

"A bit of everything, but nothing as cool as yours," you admitted, shrugging. "Actually, I wanted to propose something…"

"Propose something?" she repeated, raising an eyebrow with a smile that seemed like a challenge. "Alright, go ahead."

You took a deep breath.

"I wanted to see if we could collaborate on something. I think we could do something unique together, something that combines my art with your… well, your madness."

For a moment, you thought she might reject you. But to your surprise, Jinx burst out laughing.

"Collaborate with me? I like the way you think. You know what? It could be fun."

She leaned back, pulling a card from one of the pockets of her jacket, and slid it across the table to you.

"Here’s my manager’s contact. Talk to her and let me know if you’ve got something crazy enough to surprise me. But you better not bore me, alright?"

You took the card with trembling hands, but you managed to nod with confidence. Before you left, Jinx gave you one last look, leaning toward you with a mischievous smile.

"See you, Sugar Rush. Don’t disappoint me. Call me if you survive my manager," she joked, winking at you.

You stood frozen as the rest of the line moved forward. She gave her a nickname. To her. She was special to Jinx. That night, when you got home, you placed the empty painting where you’d planned to hang a picture of you and Jinx. It was only the beginning. She was already part of your life, but now, you were going to be part of hers.

The emotion you felt when you received Jinx's card didn't fade, even after you got home. You spent the whole night looking at the card, your fingers brushing over the printed letters as if they were the key to a world you now felt a part of. You knew you couldn't let this moment slip away, that you had to do something with it, something that would impress her. The idea of collaborating on something creative with Jinx filled you with adrenaline. The possibility of doing something that would truly leave a mark kept you awake late into the night, until you finally realized the inevitable: the only way to make this collaboration happen was to go beyond the expectations you had set for yourself.

It wasn't just about creating something for her; it was about creating something that reflected the chaos, the madness, and that unpredictable spark that so perfectly represented Jinx. You had to do something striking, something that showed you not only knew her, but understood her essence better than anyone else. Art could be the key, but you needed to go further. You decided you couldn’t present just any proposal. The work you wanted to present had to be completely aligned with what Jinx represented: breaking the conventional, transforming the ordinary into something entirely unexpected.

During the following week, you immersed yourself in creating something truly unique. You drew inspiration from the worlds she herself had built through her streams, the chaotic environments where her explosive energy seemed to bring everything she touched to life. But you also delved into her vulnerability, that strip of silence that snuck between the chaotic moments in her broadcasts. The art you were going to create wouldn’t just be for her; it would reflect everything that lay beneath her mask. You had to make her understand that you had noticed what no one else saw, the complexity of her being.

In the days leading up to your meeting with her manager, you became a whirlwind of ideas, sketches, and calculations. Every brushstroke, every element of the proposal seemed to require more attention, more dedication. You knew you couldn’t fail, not after everything you had done to get this far. Your purpose became a silent obsession: to make Jinx feel seen, not just admired, but understood.

The day you finally decided to send the email to her manager, you felt like you were sending a letter to the future. With a mix of nervousness and determination, you attached the proposal file. You knew everything could change in that moment. Maybe they would call you for a collaboration, or maybe they would ignore you completely, but it didn’t matter. You had come this far, and that in itself was an achievement.

Days later, the message arrived. The contact from her manager had responded, and there was something in their tone that filled you with anxiety. It said that Jinx had seen the proposal and wanted to talk to you, but there was a little unexpected twist: it wasn’t just about the collaboration you had imagined. The message also mentioned something about a new project for Jinx, one that was even more... risky. Were you ready for that? Fear and excitement mixed within you, but you knew you couldn’t back out. This was what you had been waiting for.

The next step was clear: the answer was yes.

The response was affirmative, and although the confirmation came through a formal email, you felt like the whole world stopped in that moment. What seemed like a simple step toward a project was transforming into an opportunity you couldn’t let slip away. Jinx had seen you, recognized your proposal, and now she wanted something more. You knew this meant the line between admiration and collaboration, between the fan and the creator, was completely blurring.

A few days passed before the call actually came. The manager’s number appeared on your phone, and as soon as you saw it, your heart skipped a beat. You answered with your breath catching, trying not to sound like just another fan, even though you knew deep down you were more than that. It wasn’t just the excitement of being part of her world; it was the possibility of getting closer to Jinx, of proving to her that you understood what no one else did.

"Hello, am I speaking with…?" The voice on the other end was professional, direct, but still had a friendly tone.

"Yes, this is… HexedByJinx." The name rolled off your tongue with a familiarity that no longer sounded strange. You felt like this whole journey had led you to this very moment.

"Ah, of course." A soft click in the background, as if the manager was checking something. "Jinx saw your proposal and is interested in seeing more. But before that, we need to talk about the direction you want to take this. She mentioned that you have some... unconventional ideas. That’s something she likes. So, tell me, what do you have in mind?"

A knot formed in your stomach, but you didn’t let fear stop you. You knew this was your chance to shine, and you couldn’t let it slip away. You spoke with a mix of confidence and excitement, detailing everything you had in mind: how you wanted to incorporate Jinx’s chaos, but also her vulnerability, how it all had to feel like an explosion of colors and sounds, but without losing the heart of who she really was. What you had planned wasn’t just visual art; it was an experience, one that could transcend what everyone thought they knew about Jinx.

"Perfect. Jinx is very intrigued. We’ll call you next week to discuss the details. Get ready for the unexpected. There’s no turning back once this starts." The manager hung up before you could say anything more, leaving you with a feeling of adrenaline, but also uncertainty. Something bigger was brewing, something that would change your life forever.

The call left a deep impression on you. It wasn’t just the first step toward a real collaboration, but a reminder that your world was about to be completely shaken. You could feel it, that strange pull toward the unknown. And as the days went by, you found yourself reviewing the details of the proposal again and again, adjusting and perfecting. You knew the work had only just begun.

The day of the meeting arrived faster than you expected. You found yourself again in front of Jinx, this time in her studio, surrounded by the same neon lights you had always seen through the screen, but now so real you could touch them. The air was charged with energy, a palpable chaos that made you feel like you could explode at any moment. She was there, as unpredictable as always, with that smile of hers, as if everything in the world could be destroyed by her laughter.

"Sugar Rush, you're here!" Jinx exclaimed when you walked in, her voice full of that energy that made you feel like nothing was impossible.

You sat across from her, your mind racing with all the ideas you wanted to share, but you knew it was time to listen. The proposal you had made was just the beginning; now you wanted to know how Jinx saw things, how far she could take this collaboration.

"I love the way you think. Have you realized that we're about to do something totally... fucking epic?" Jinx leaned forward, her eyes shining with a mix of excitement and a hint of mischief.

You nodded, trying to keep up, but with every word from Jinx, every gesture, you felt more connected to her, more a part of her world. What had once been a fantasy, an impossible dream, was taking shape, and everything was starting to feel real.

"I know," your voice came out more confidently than you felt, but that was exactly what you needed. You weren't going to let fear hold you back now. "I'm ready to take it further. I'm ready for the world to see what you and I can do."

Jinx smiled again, this time with an unexpected softness, as if she were recognizing something more than just a fan. As if, finally, she was seeing you not only for what you had done but for what you were capable of creating.

"Then... let's get started. And brace yourself, because this is going to be one hell of a ride," her smile widened, and you couldn't help but smile too. You knew what was about to come would change your life forever, and you couldn't wait to see it.

Jinx's studio was lit only by the dim glow of the computer screens, which blinked incessantly, reflecting colors that never seemed fully defined. The place was a chaos of organized disorder, with scattered cables, tools, and fragments of what looked like unfinished experiments. The atmosphere was imbued with the energy of someone who lives on the edge, someone who doesn't fear the unknown, but seeks it, consumes it.

You found yourself staring at everything, feeling the tension rise as Jinx explained what she wanted to do. It wasn't just an artistic project, no. There was something much deeper, something dark behind her words. The intensity in her gaze penetrated to your bones. You knew that what was being forged here could change everything, and the idea of being so close to that chaos, that power, excited and terrified you at the same time.

"What we're going to do isn't just art; it's a statement. Something that will make everyone who sees it, who feels it, in their very core. Not some Mister Beast shit," Jinx said, her voice charged with that unpredictable energy only she could project.

You didn’t need her to explain any further. You understood what she was hinting at. There was something in the way she spoke, something in her proximity, that pushed you to enter unknown territory. The adrenaline started pumping through your veins, a mix of danger and excitement. Chaos had never been so tempting.

You leaned in closer to her, and for a moment, words ceased to matter. You were completely absorbed by her presence. There were no doubts in your mind, only an urgent need to connect with her, to immerse yourself in that darkness that so easily defined her.

"What we're going to do is going to shatter expectations. It won't just be a visual spectacle; it's going to be a clash of sensations, a direct hit to everything people think they understand about art and chaos. We're going to push those limits, make people feel every vibration, every reaction," Jinx said, getting closer and closer, as if guiding you to something you couldn’t walk away from.

The proposal was clear. What they wanted to create wasn’t just a visual installation, but an immersive experience that would take the participants and bring them to the edge of their fears, their darkest desires. A world where sensations would feel too real, where the viewer couldn’t distinguish between what was part of the installation and what was a reflection of their own mind. Chaos, uncertainty, discomfort. All of it would be translated into an emotional test so powerful that those who dared to enter would never leave the same way.

Art, in this case, wasn’t just something to look at. It was something to live.

Jinx was staring at you with an intensity that seemed to consume everything else. Every word, every gesture, was charged with a palpable urgency. She was so determined to bring her vision to the world that everything she touched became part of that vision.

And then, almost impulsively, you took a moment to look at her closely. The spark in her eyes, the way her lips curved into a smile that only true chaos could generate, hypnotized you. You realized you were facing something much bigger than just a project. You were facing a dangerous connection, and you couldn’t say no.

"I want you with me in this. Not as a spectator. As someone who understands what we're about to do," Jinx moved her face closer to yours, her words filled with uncontrollable desire. Her breath was warm on your skin, and her proximity made you feel like you were about to crumble.

And, although you knew it, you couldn’t pull away. This was the strongest attraction you’d felt in a long time. The fear that would normally have held you back faded, replaced by a burning need to be part of her world. To be part of that darkness, of that destructive energy that seemed to define her. You didn’t know if it was her madness, her magnetism, or something much deeper that kept you close, but you had surrendered without even questioning it.

"What do you need from me?" you asked, and although the words came out calmly, your voice was filled with something far more visceral.

Jinx smiled, with that smile that you knew would change everything.

"I need you to use your skills to bring this to life. To make it so real that no one who sees it will ever forget it. It’s going to be a spectacle that will make them question everything they know about fear, pleasure, madness. But I also need you. Without you, this doesn’t make sense."

In that moment, you realized something. This wasn’t just a project. It was an invitation to enter her world. A world where there were no rules. Where chaos was the only constant. And you, by your own choice, were handing yourself over to it.

The connection between both of you was so deep, so intense, that there was no room for doubt anymore. You didn’t need to think. All you could do was move forward. You knew that what you were about to create would be as destructive as it would be addictive. But, in that moment, you wanted nothing more than to sink further into the abyss she offered.

She looked at you, and in her eyes, you could see what she truly wanted. She wasn’t just looking for someone to help her create something. She was looking for someone willing to follow her to the end, to embrace the chaos by her side. And you knew that, for the first time, you felt completely alive.

The air in the warehouse was thick, heavy with the smell of mold and rusted metal. Every step you took echoed with a macabre sound, as if the place itself was alive, waiting for something. Jinx, with that crooked smile you never knew if it was malicious or simply excited, watched you as you moved forward. The room was lit only by dim lights, flickering on the ceiling, giving the place an even darker feel. You knew what you were about to do, and it was impossible not to feel a mix of excitement and tension in the air. This wasn’t just a show. This was art in its rawest, wildest form.

"Are you ready for what we’re about to do?" Jinx asked, her voice charged with an energy that sent shivers down your spine. There was no room for doubt. You knew there was no turning back, and you were surprised by how eager you felt, how your body responded almost automatically to her energy.

"Let’s do it," you replied firmly, though the uncertainty burned inside you. You felt the weight of what was coming. You felt yourself sinking deeper into this chaos, this madness you were creating together. Jinx was the fire, the spark, but you were the one holding the reins, the one who knew how to make it all fit, make it all make sense. Or so you thought. Or so you wanted to believe.

You moved into the center of the warehouse, the stream was on since minutes ago, where the screens and projectors were ready to be activated. Each one was placed with precision, yet there was a touch of disorder, as if it were something that should never be ordered. The perfect combination of chaos and control. Like the two of you.

The first participants arrived, and you felt the energy in the air shift. It was a mixture of anticipation and fear. One by one, the spectators entered the dark corridor you had designed, the lights flickering around them, casting shadows that seemed to move as if they were stalking them. You could see how their eyes filled with doubt, with insecurity, but also with a strange fascination. The sound, a deep rumble that grew in intensity, seeped into their veins, taking hold of them. Their pulse quickened, the air thickened.

They didn’t know what was waiting for them. You did.

As they moved forward, the projections began. They were fragmented images: distorted faces, broken memories, their own fears projected on the screens. The chaos was palpable. The walls, which at first seemed like mere ruins, came to life. You couldn’t help but smile. Everything was working perfectly.

But then came the moment to give them what they really needed. The space darkened completely. The light vanished as if it had never existed. The sound turned into a low, heavy pulse, as though the universe itself was breathing in their ears. In that overwhelming silence, the shadows rose again. Something was changing. Something big was about to happen.

When the corridor ended, the participants were called one by one to enter what you had named "the fear chamber." A small, enclosed space, isolated from the world, where the rules of reality ceased to exist. The first one entered, trembling, unsure of what to expect. You watched everything from a dark corner, your breath steady, your eyes fixed on the screen. Inside the chamber, the lights flickered, then went out. A distorted figure appeared in the projections. The image of a face, and then another, one that quickly faded, leaving behind something that shouldn’t exist.

It was chaos made into an image. But the most interesting part was what was happening in their minds. Their own fears, their darkest desires, their insecurities… all of that was projected in front of them. They couldn’t escape. They couldn’t do anything.

You focused. You knew when to tighten, when to let the pressure build. It was such a precise control that it almost felt like an art of manipulation.

Jinx, in the back, was smiling. She was watching how each one of them cracked, how reality dissolved, but you were in your element, enjoying the chaos with a calm that only you could possess. In this moment, you were completely connected to the spectacle, to what you were creating. Jinx was your ally, your muse, your chaos, but you were the one shaping it into perfection.

Though you never said it aloud, the connection between you and Jinx grew deeper. It wasn’t just the art. It wasn’t just the show. It was something darker, something more personal. The way your ideas merged, the way your minds complemented each other in this game of shadows. It was as if together you could create something no one else could understand, something so intense and visceral that it left marks on the soul. You knew that Jinx needed you to give shape to her madness, and Jinx knew that you were the balance that gave it meaning.

The images on the screen now showed something different. A distorted figure. Your own face merged with Jinx’s. In the projection, both of you seemed to merge, transforming into a single entity. In that moment, you felt it deep inside: it was as if you could no longer live without her.

You looked at her face, at her crooked smile, as she manipulated the controls with almost obsessive precision. You felt that all of this was taking shape faster than you had imagined. The show was going to be something no spectator would ever forget, but the most shocking thing was what was happening inside you. The line between art and reality had blurred, and now, every moment with Jinx consumed you.

The end was near. You knew that the final phase, the climax of the show, was going to break them. The participants were already on the edge of despair, but you didn’t know how far you could push them. Every stimulus, every image, every sound, every smell, was designed to disturb them, to break them. The impact would be brutal. The chaos would be absolute. And you, watching from the shadows, were the one in control.

It was when everything seemed to collapse, when everything became unsustainable, when the participants felt like they were losing their minds, that the show reached its final moment. The lights went out. The sound turned into a roar, a scream, something that pierced their chest. The screen shattered, showing images of them, their own fears spilling over.

When the silence fell, you realized something. You had done what you wanted. You had brought to life something so dark, so deeply disturbing, that no one could forget it.

And by your side, Jinx kept smiling, waiting, enjoying the madness you had just unleashed.

You return to Jinx's apartment after the show, and the air between the two of you feels electrified. The success is palpable. The metrics, the comments, the followers. Everything has exploded. And it's not just because of the show, it's because you and Jinx have touched something deep in each viewer. The chaos you've created has left its mark.

Jinx, always restless, throws her backpack onto the couch and turns on a dim light in the corner of the room, casting shadows that dance on the walls. The music, a pounding industrial sound, begins to play in the background. Both of you are exhausted, but there's something undeniable: the tension between you two is stronger than ever.

You approach her without thinking too much. The celebration moment is no longer about success, but about what has been built between you. The silence between you two stretches on, but it’s not uncomfortable. It's the prelude to something more.

Jinx looks at you with those bright, unpredictable eyes, as always. "Aren't you tired of surprising me, Sugar Rush?" Her tone is playful, but there’s something darker hidden in her gaze, something that attracts you even more.

"No… I'm not tired of you," you reply with a raspy voice, taking another step closer to her. The distance between you two narrows until the electricity is palpable. Jinx doesn’t wait a second, grabs your neck, and kisses you wildly, as if all the madness you’ve unleashed on the world needs to escape in that moment. Her lips are demanding, and you don’t resist. The kiss is brutal, like a clash of overflowing passions.

You pull away a bit, looking into her eyes. You’re breathing fast, as if all the air in the apartment has been exhausted. "Jinx, I… I can’t stop thinking about you. I don’t know what’s happening to me, but… I’m completely obsessed with you. Every time you’re not around, I lose control. I’ve done things... crazy things, things no one should do, and I feel sick for you."

Jinx doesn’t take a step back. Her smile grows, and although you know it’s a smile of madness, you also feel it excites her, everything you've just said. "Oh, Sugar Rush, I love it when you get so... intense."

Without being able to help it, your hands slide over her body, touching her skin, her tattoos, feeling the chemicals between you. "I’ve spent hours following you. Hours, Jinx. I wake up thinking about you, I fall asleep thinking about you. I’ve searched for every picture of you, every video. Sometimes I watch you without you knowing, and all I do is imagine what would happen if I had you closer. And then I realize I already have you close, and that... drives me crazy." Every word escapes your mouth with desperation, as if confessing it, all the weight of your obsession collapses.

Jinx laughs softly, but it’s a laugh full of evil and desire. "I’m driving you completely crazy, huh? I like it." Then, with unexpected speed, she pushes you against the wall, her body pressing against yours almost aggressively. Her hands explore your body with overflowing fury, as if she’s anxious to confirm that everything you just said is true, that she’s completely inside of you.

The touches between the two of you become more and more desperate. You’re afraid of what you might do if you keep giving in to this whirlwind of desire and madness. But at the same time, you can’t stop. Your mind and body are trapped, and Jinx is the only escape.

"You know, right?" Jinx whispers in your ear as her lips trace fiery kisses on your neck. "There’s no turning back. You’re mine, Sugar Rush." Her words are like sweet poison, and something inside you burns with more intensity. The truth becomes clearer, and you don’t want to escape it. You want more.

"Yes… yes, I’m yours," you murmur between gasps, losing yourself in her, in the heat, in the madness that consumes you. "And you… you’re mine. You’ll always be."

Jinx, hearing your words, smiles again, satisfied, and slides closer to you, taking your lips in a kiss so desperate and full of passion that you feel like the whole world is falling apart around you.

The apartment is lit only by the neon lights flickering, casting psychedelic shadows on the walls, like an ezquizofrenic show. The feeling of triumph has already faded, replaced by a much more urgent and dangerous need. You’re consumed by a flame you can’t extinguish, and Jinx knows it. You both know it. The chaos you’ve unleashed on the digital world has been nothing compared to the chaos now taking shape between you two.

In one corner of the room, Jinx pulls out a small box, opens it with a twisted smile, and inside, a white powder glows faintly under the light. She takes a spoonful, looks at it, and then, with a casual gesture, offers it to you.

"Come on, Sugar Rush, don’t you want to fly? We need this. All of this... this is ours. This is the last level."

You’re scared, for a second, of what you’re about to do. But the desire consumes you, temptation takes over. You’ve been through a lot in the last few months, and this... this feels like an escape. Making this decision is almost like, by doing so, you can finally release everything you’ve been holding back.

Taking the powder, you inhale it, feeling the burn in your nostrils, a direct hit to your brain. Instantly, warmth spreads through your body, euphoria begins to take control, and your thoughts become blurry, bubbly. Jinx looks at you intently as the powder begins to take effect, her eyes shining brighter than ever. "That’s it… you’re mine now, completely."

Reality begins to fade, and all that remains is the sound of the music and the sound of labored breathing between the two of you. Jinx approaches you again, this time with unexpected violence. It’s as if everything that was in her before is exploding. Her lips meet yours, and the passion that was once intense becomes something wild, insatiable. The contact between you two is like a clash of uncontrollable forces.

"I’m devouring you, can you feel it?" Jinx whispers between kisses, almost as if she’s talking to someone else, as if the conversation is a delirium. Her voice mixes with the music, creating a strange, thick melody. "You’ll never escape from me, never."

Your head spins. The powder makes everything you touched before now feel more real, more raw, more intensely sensitive. Every touch of her skin makes you shiver, and every word, no matter how absurd, drags you deeper into the madness. You don’t know if the desire you feel for her is real or if it’s just a fantasy fueled by what you’ve inhaled, but you don’t care. The only thing that matters now is that you can’t stop touching her, you can’t stop losing yourself in her.

Jinx's fingers slipped under your shirt, she smiled widely when she noticed you were braless, easy work. Her fingers squeezed your left nipple mercilessly, she rubbed it with her palm from top to bottom to make it more and more sensitive, so sensitive that it was impossible to bear, it was like a delicious torture. Your moans were not long in coming, from one second to the next you found yourself asking for more. You needed more. You needed her.

"What did you say, Sugar Rush?" Jinx asked, moving closer to your neck and biting hard, she sank her teeth in as deep as she could, and when you were about to scream she choked you with her hands to stop you, and that only made you more excited.

She didn't let go of your neck until she felt blood in her mouth, then she grabbed your hair.

"Open your mouth," She demanded, dominant and amused.

You could see her lips stained with blood, with your blood. Exquisite, red had always suited her so well. Without protest you obeyed, opening as wide as you could, sticking out your tongue that was dripping with excess saliva, drool sliding down your throat.

Jinx bit her lip and squeezed your cheeks, her extravagant half-painted nails digging into your skin, then she leaned in and spit in your mouth. You had no other reflex than to swallow and smile at her, grateful for what she was giving you.

Jinx laughed mockingly, she was using you as her toy, and you were more than happy to be.

"Let's try one more time. What do you want from me, Sugar Rush?" Jinx asked, still tasting your blood in her mouth.

"I want you to fuck me, but if you don't want to it doesn't matter. I'd settle for just this, you can keep biting me and drinking my blood, I don't care. I'm happy with anything that comes from you," You were lucky you were so high you couldn't hear yourself, because you really sounded pitiful and not very sane.

And Jinx loved it. She loved the power she had over you.

"You're kind of pathetic, Sugar Rush. You'd settle for anything, huh?" A dangerous glint lit up Jinx's eyes. "I mean, I could pull my pants down right now, piss on your face and you'd still thank me?"

And the saddest thing was that you didn't have to think about it, your head bobbing up and down in a way that was almost mechanical. "I love everything about you," You confessed hoarsely, imagining the scene vividly in your twisted head.

Jinx stifled an awkward laugh.

"Don't worry, baby, I won't go that far... yet," Jinx smirks, her eyes flashing with a dangerous light, and she pushes you against the wall again. "That's what I want to hear, Sugar Rush. I know you want me. I know I'm controlling you. Now shut up and enjoy."

Jinx squeezed her neck with one hand, putting special force where she had hurt her, and her other hand traveled from her mouth to your lower part. She put her hand under your skirt and with her legs she made yours open to have better access. Her index finger moved your underwear to the side and she stuck a finger in you, she took it out and put it in repeatedly, not going too deep, just testing its capacity. Her thumb rubbed your fluids against your clit, pressing it lightly, she was killing you slowly.

You writhed in her clutches, your body made involuntary contractions that harassed you with blows to the face for your stubbornness, Jinx hated it when you didn't listen.

"It seems that someone is a little restless. Maybe I should increase the intensity and see how long you can take it."

And without warning she inserted three more fingers, a scream escaped from deep in your throat, your eyes rolled back. Jinx's hand was busy all over your pussy, her four fingers penetrating you and her thumb never stopping punishing your clit. It was perfect. Simply perfect.

Jinx looked at you with her typical crazy smile, while she masturbated you she brought her face closer to yours to start filling you with licks all over. It was so wild, it was such a basic instinct, so primal. For a moment it felt like they had returned to the Paleolithic period, where they only had to eat, fuck and survive. And the truth is that it sounded like a good plan, the best, actually.

You couldn't take the intensity any longer and you came in a guttural, almost superhuman growl. Your juices were sliding through Jinx's hand, who still hadn't taken her fingers out of you, she was using you as her personalized Xbox controller, overstimulating you in a way that would make you lose your mind at any moment.

Luckily for you, she got bored after a few minutes and let you rest. Her reflex was to wipe your juices off her hand, and seeing this you almost felt like you could cum again.

"Can you sit on my face?" The question came out of your lips without any filter.

Jinx looked at you still with her sticky fingers in her mouth, she smiled and bit her thumb, smelling your essence on it.

"Lie down on the couch."

And you didn't need to hear it twice, even with your legs shaking you ran to the furniture and positioned yourself in the best way, with your head resting on the headboard, waiting patiently for your prize. God, this would be like a dream come true for you. But it all got even better when you looked to the side and were met with the scene you never thought you'd witness in real life.

Jinx was stripping in front of you. Your lustful gaze traveled all over her body, from her slim ankles, to her plump thighs, to those dreamy hips, and of course, to her tiny waist. Her nipples were the same shade of pale pink you'd bet on.

"Don't stare at me like that, you lil' freak," Despite her teasing tone it didn't sound like it bothered her at all.

"I'm sorry, I can't help it, you're gorgeous, the most..."

Jinx rolled her eyes and shushed you with a mime gesture. She stretched and her bones creaked exquisitely, she was warming up her muscles, because the position she would be in next required a lot of physical endurance, especially as time passed.

And meanwhile, you just waited in silence, delighted by the sight. Jinx climbed onto the furniture with her back to you, first staring at you, her pupils dilated.

"Enough talk, get that pretty mouth working. I want to cum too, fuck," And without warning, as was typical of Jinx, she sat on your face, and not in a delicate way, it should be noted.

She jumped on you as if you were an inflatable ball. Leaving you without air every two minutes, and in a very macabre way, you found yourself pleased with that idea. You could die like this and you would be happy.

"Your nose tickles me, Sugar Rush, it's amazing. I think you've become my favorite seat." Jinx alternated between breathy giggles and long sighs, it was a crazy experience, literally.

You were enjoying it, but not completely. You wanted to taste her, make her feel good, show her your full potential. So you took a chance and grabbed her by the hips, digging your fingers into her bones to keep her still.

Jinx moaned loudly as your tongue penetrated her deeply. You buried your face in that glorious pussy, breathing in her scent and only became more addicted, hungrier. You licked without stopping, interspersing it with occasional little bites.

Jinx looked down at you, you looked so cute like this, beneath her.

"I bet I'm fulfilling your biggest fantasy. I'm sure you used to masturbating while watching my streams, you little pervert."

And your muffled moan only proved her right.

"It feels like I'm helping a charity cause," Jinx humiliated you with her words and you could only continue to please her, because it was what you had to do, you were born to do it. "Shit, I'm gonna cum. Open your mouth." She bellowed in a high, whiny voice.

Jinx put pressure on her numb legs and stood up a little, she leaned on the couch and with her other hand she quickly caressed her clit in search of her orgasm. An orgasm that shot not only to your face but to part of your body, Jinx had had the biggest squirt you had ever seen in your life.

Exhausted, she let herself fall on top of you. Your naked and sweaty bodies intertwined like two threads of the same piece. Her long blue hair wrapped around you like a cloak, you stared at the ceiling and smiled big. Is this what happiness felt like?

"Why are you smiling, Sugar Rush?" Jinx asked, poking your cheek.

"Because I'm happy." It was the first time in your life you were able to say such a phrase, and yet you still couldn't believe it. You couldn't believe any of it—couldn't believe your luck.

"Aw, how sweet. Wanna do it again?" The sudden shift in conversation left you stunned.

Jinx didn’t wait for an answer. She kissed you, hard and rough. Your hands moved frantically across her body, searching for more than just skin. You wanted to go deeper, to tear her apart and reach her very heart. It felt as though everything was slipping away, as though reality itself was unraveling, and the only constant was her.

"Do you want to, Sugar Rush? How far would you go for me?" Her voice was husky, dripping with dark energy. She cupped your face gently, almost as if this were some twisted game. "I’ve made you mine, you know that, don’t you?"

You couldn’t think, couldn’t speak. You could only react. Her lips, her skin, the chaos surrounding you both—it all blurred into a single, undeniable truth. She was the only thing that mattered. Only her.

The kiss grew more desperate. Your bodies collided, pulled, and clawed at each other, as if devouring and becoming one in the process. Words became meaningless, empty. All that remained was the raw, unrelenting need, the way you were both destroying and remaking each other with every touch, every breath, every frantic caress.

The early morning had fallen when, finally, exhausted and caught in a whirlwind of emotions and adrenaline, they fell into silence. The room was filled with a mix of sweat and the heavy air of what had happened. The glow of the computer screen still illuminated their faces, even though the stream had ended, and the numbers kept rising.

Jinx lay back on the bed, still smiling with that overflowing spark in her eyes, but something had changed. She wasn’t the same crazy, attention-seeking lunatic anymore, but a more vulnerable, more human version of herself. However, you knew that this moment of vulnerability was as fleeting as everything else that passed through her mind. She was at your side in this chaotic world you’d created together, but you couldn’t help but feel that the connection being formed was also a cage.

You stayed sitting on the edge of the bed, breathing heavily, your mind filled with disjointed thoughts, with the truth you had unleashed. You had confessed everything, every dark corner of your obsession, your fears, your desires, your addiction. You had let it all spill out, and instead of rejecting it, Jinx had accepted it as if it were just another game.

“You see, I told you,” Jinx whispered, slowly sitting up. She approached you, taking your chin with a crooked smile. “What we have is unique. And you know what? I love it.”

Her voice was softer, but her eyes still held the madness she always carried. You looked at her, feeling yourself burn even more, unsure if what you’d been searching for was an escape valve or a chain.

“It’s more than that…” you answered in a broken voice, unable to help yourself. The memories of everything you had done, of the hours spent waiting for her to notice you, flooded your mind like a storm. “It’s not just obsession, Jinx… it’s… I need to have you close all the time. I can’t let you go. I can’t.”

Jinx leaned in toward you, her warm breath on your neck, and her red lips left a soft kiss on your skin. You felt the tingling of her touch, but also that persistent sense of emptiness that never went away, that need to keep searching for something more, something you knew you would never find, but couldn’t stop chasing.

“Don’t worry, Sugar Rush. I’m not going anywhere,” she said with a playful laugh, but deep down you knew that the chaos in her mind was devouring her too. Just like it was devouring you. Just like it was consuming both of you.

Silence filled the room for a moment, but it wasn’t the silence of peace. It was the silence of two people trapped in a spiral of madness, fed by their own demons. Love, obsession, chaos, all blended into something bigger than either of them.

You lay beside her, feeling how Jinx’s breath intertwined with yours, even though you both knew neither of you would sleep that night. Inside you, everything was chaos. And that chaos, though terrifying, was the only thing keeping you alive.

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bambisnc · 15 hours ago

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illuminate [or, new year's eve kisses w riize]

pairing : ot7 x reader genre : fluff/crack cw/tw : drinking mention + kissing wc : 0.8k

shotaro : "planning to kiss at midnight but not being able to because there's Too Much Happening so ending up kissing after everything's over in the early hours of the morning"

imagine the 2 of you being the hosts of the party and it being rather .. chaotic, to say the least. i'm talking someone screaming, someone tripping n falling down, someone just. drunk outta their mind the second midnight strikes 😀 ... leaving you to sort the Many, many conflicts occurring. you and taro would find yourself alone w each other only at like maybe 5 am the next day and he'd be the absolute sweetest ever; would kiss your forehead softly, n thank you for being "so, so perfect f'me" as the soft morning light streams in. even if the moment wouldn't be picture perfect you wouldn't really want it any other way <3

eunseok : "pretending to be a couple at a new year's eve party and kissing to drive home the point"

you can pry fake dating w eunseok out of my cold dead hands. anyway. the setting can vary; it could be childhood friend!seok dating you to avoid awkward and way too intrusive questions from relatives you haven't even seen for like 10 years, or academic rival!seok and you dating at some official/academic party to idk flex on haters? etc. but the ending would mostly be along the lines of someone trying to flirt w you/him bc they don't really think you two of all people could Actually be dating so you end up kissing on impulse (and lowkey bc of peer pressure) but the kiss kinda ends up .. lasting way too long for it to just be fake? :/

sungchan : "partner yapping and making a scene (for example if they're like drunk out of their mind) right before midnight and you having to kiss them to shut them up"

what do i even say man .. there's always gonna be this one guy who talks just a tad bit too much and lowkey causes a scene >.< the only difference is that this time it'll just so happen to be your cutie patootie bf. honestly he might just lowkey be playing it up for your attention which obviously you don't mind giving him <3 and when you inevitably end up cupping his face in your hands and softly pressing your lips against his, he'll only smile and be more than willing to shut up for you because well .. it's you!

wonbin : "them pulling off a whole entire gesture flawlessly and kissing you as their grand finale"

let us go back down for a minute to our (my) roots straight into one of the Most disney things i can think of. performing in public to confess feelings/love to the person you like <3 imagine wonbin performing a whole ahh song and dedicating it to you at a party he organized (which is also mainly only for you) because why would he be lowkey when he can be grand n dramatic about it? of course if you're not comfortable he wouldn't like Announce it to everyone and draw unwanted attention to you 😭😭 but still let you know via means of his subtle gestures <3 and obviously you kiss him when he, (slightly out of breath), w all the earnestness of the world asks if "you liked it my love?"

seunghan : "classic fireworks kiss"

he deserves the softest fluffiest trope for sure. i see him kinda dragging you away from the other people at whatever get together/gathering you're at to take you to a quieter spot, a balcony perhaps or just a nice window with a good view of earlier mentioned fireworks. would tell you how much he loves you (probably even give u a littol gift,, for example, matching rings ...) and kiss you right after. it'd happen right as the fireworks set off and if someone was to take a picture it would literally top charts on uh pinterest idk? you get what i mean - it'd be perfect.

sohee : "kissing as a soft launch"

bbg deserves the fluffiest trope x2 i feel like it wouldn't just be an impulsive thing; you both would have a rough, basic idea of wanting some way to show off each other <3 and what better time to do that than with the start of the new year? so right after the countdown, when midnight strikes, you'd kiss. and at first people wouldn't even really pay attention but then someone would be like "wait a minute......." and you guys would kinda just chill there holding hands, lowkey giggling. menaces, really; but at least you guys are cute ...

anton : "who're you kissing at midnight"

yk the whole wanting to kiss your partner who you're dating in secret but still not wanting your relationship to be out in the open so you end up pulling some strings and (nicely) manipulating your friends to kiss e/o platonically so you can pass off you and your partner's kiss as just part of that (courtesy to popular sitcom friends s5, ep11). i'm thinking a little kiss on the cheek, and looking at e/o lovingly (.. sappy much ...) and none of your friends/family/whoever being any wiser because it's just a platonic thing right? :D if anyone was to look Closely though, your jig would be over SO fast trust .. >.<

notes : happy 2025 to those who celebrate !!! was nawt planning on writing for riize ong. but. erm. idk its ab to be one year of this acc and they're the group i started out writing for so i couldn't not + also these're my FAVORITE ot7 pics ever btw + [m.list] song rec : illumination - andteam <3

𐙚 . regulars : @x0llaz @nicholasluvbot ⋆

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serenpedac · 2 days ago

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2024 Writing Roundup

Thank you @lykegenia for the tag <3

words posted: 28703

additional words written: Around 40000 words, most of which are for the poly AU and Ava's car racing AU.

grand total of words: ~69000

fandoms: The Wayhaven Chronicles, one Dragon Age oneshot, and some writing for Yael for our GURPS campaign.

highest kudos: Tales of Fate and Fortune, though that's ignoring the oneshot collections, as well as 'when words', since those only had parts added this year and it's impossible to separate the kudos.

highest hit oneshot: featherstone. Again, this is without counting the oneshots in collections (I know it's not ideal to put those into a single work, but it's better for me).

new things I tried: At first, I wanted to say it was writing Adam/Nate, but since I wrote them specifically for the polymance AU, I'm going to say writing a poly-relationship. Relationships in various forms have been on my mind a lot this year, and I think that's reflected in my writing.

fic I spent the most time on: Including words that are not yet posted, it's the poly AU main fic: touching, tangling, intertwined.

fic I spent the least time on: For Gold and Glory (and Good Wine) --- Just a silly little fic about my Warden and Rook meeting.

favorite thing I wrote: The latest chapter of when words fall silent. It's a scene that I've been thinking about for years, yet putting it on paper was quite hard. It feels good to finally have it written down, though. The writing itself may not be my best (I'm finding it very hard to judge this chapter), but each and every part is there for a reason, and I just have a lot of feelings about this chapter. Here's an excerpt (cw: mention of death):

Dappled sunlight plays across the ground, creating patches of light and shadow and everything in between. A few early butterflies flutter between the tall grasses in splashes of citrine and dusky orange. Nate’s sigh is carried away by the wind rustling through the birch trees scattered across the land, their leaves a soft, light green against the silver of their slender trunks. The place is beautiful. What he wouldn’t give to not be here. His hand goes to his chest, inadvertently, finding the ribbon pinned there. Its frayed edges brush against the tips of his fingers, a reminder of the life torn away before it had a chance to be lived.

favorite thing(s) I read: Since the Friday rec lists focused on Wayhaven, let me put down some other things here:

before you can kill the monster (you have to say its name) by @/inquisimer --- A rewrite of the DATV quest with the Gloom Howler. Isseya is such a fascinating character and Veilguard's handling of her disappointed me, so I'm very happy to get to read this fic that focuses on giving her nuance!

Rosemary and Citrus by @/lykegenia --- Lykegenia's writing is always a pleasure to read, and this Rook/Lucanis fic is no exception. It's wonderful to get to dive deeper into the characters.

Number 5 by stardust_and_sunlight --- A Doctor Odyssey fic set the morning after that one night, with the Max/Tristan content we deserve (also looove Avery's role at the end here).

Remembrance of Earth's Past (The Three-Body Problem trilogy) by Liu Cixin --- Putting these books on here, because my summer was defined by them. As frustrated as I may have been with some parts of it, it's a story that had me in its hold for months and left its mark on me.

writing goals for 2025: Finish 'when words'! Getting better at finishing longer fics in general, tbh. I tend to start fics and then abandon them, which is something I want to work on.

new works:

Farah/Gabi

Meet-cute Neon Pink Tulsi Yellow Like the Summer Sun

Yael/Nate & Susan/Nate (how did I write/post so little Yael/Nate this year?!)

Stockings Tales of Fate and Fortune

Poly AU (Yael/Nate/Adam)

written by your hand featherstone let me show you touching, tangling, intertwined

Other

Metamorphosis A Touch of Friendship For Gold and Glory (and Good Wine)

Tagging forward anyone reading this! And also (no pressure): @evilbunnyking, @nerdierholler, @wayhavenots, @nat-seal-well, @nsewell, @itsmistyeyedbi, @serial-chillr

#serenwrites #i can't quite believe Tales of Fate and Fortune was from this year #it feels like ages ago #things are much better now #i'm legit excited for the new year #which is a good feeling!

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inawickedlittletown · 17 hours ago

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All I Want For Christmas Is You (BuckTommy) - 9/9

Summary: When Buck and Tommy pick each other for the 118's Secret Santa, they both realize they know nothing about each other. That changes very quickly. Words: 3.8k Rating: M Read on Ao3 Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

“Is that your Secret Santa gift?” Evan asked, pointing at the bag next to the tree.

“Hmm, yeah.”

Evan got a mischievous grin on and went to grab it. Tommy slapped his hands away. Evan turned to him at once, mouth open in put upon shock.

“No peeking, Evan.”

Evan narrowed his eyes on him. “Why? It’s not like you got me. Or, wait, did you?”

Tommy grabbed Evan by the shoulders and turned him around. “You’ll find out who everyone got in two days. Whole point of Secret Santa.”

“Hen’s not even here,” Evan said and though Tommy couldn’t see him, he knew he was pouting.

“You know that somehow she’ll find out if I let you know who I got and what I got them.”

Tommy glanced back at the bag. He was going to have to rewrap that, wasn’t he? Otherwise Evan would figure it out early. There was also the fact that Tommy didn’t think it was complete quite yet. He did have an idea on what might complete it. That would be something to take care of when he got back from breakfast.

“Come on,” Tommy said, “I thought you were hungry.”

“Starving,” Evan said. “I guess the chips and guac from last night were not enough.”

“Definitely not,” Tommy said. “The ice cream helped.”

They had both been too caught up in each other to think about dinner the night before and then had found that Tommy had literally nothing in his kitchen to make a meal out of. Not even eggs. So, they had settled for the giant bag of lime sea salt tortilla chips Evan found in a cabinet and the guacamole Tommy had remembered he’d bought the last time he was in a store, instead of going out to get food or ordering take out. They’d eaten that while watching Christmas movies in the living room until Tommy pulled out the ice cream. After that they both decided to head back to Tommy’s bed. It was no wonder they both woke up at the crack of dawn starving.

Waking with Evan wrapped around him had been everything in spite of also waking to Evan’s stomach literally growling with hunger.

They wound up at a diner that Tommy had never been to. It seemed like it had kept all the aesthetics of a 50s diner including an actual jukebox that when they sat down was playing Frank Sinatra’s version of Jingle Bells.

The menus were laminated and Tommy didn’t have to even glance at it before ordering pancakes.

“Should have known that’d be your go to,” Evan said and then went with scrambled eggs with sausage and toast.

“You can’t go wrong with pancakes,” Tommy said.

“I guess. So…what, uh, what happens now?”

Tommy had been expecting the question. They’d been in a bit of a bubble, a sex bubble. The best type of bubble. What little they had talked about had put them there and it was actually probably smart of them to talk things out in public so neither of them could find a way to distract the other.

“Would you consider this a second date?” Tommy asked.

Evan smiled at him, reached for his hand across the table. “I could be on board with that.”

“Good.” He gave Evan’s hand a squeeze. “I won’t freak out this time. I want this to work, Evan.”

“Me too. But what about work?”

“I don’t know,” Tommy admitted. “It’s not like I ever planned on dating anyone I worked with. And look, we don’t have to say anything to anyone. You’re not out. You’re still discovering yourself. I don’t expect you to be ready to just tell everyone.”

Hen probably suspected, but she wouldn’t say anything. Tommy could even pull her aside and talk to her about it, but he didn’t even think that was necessary.

“We can be professional,” Tommy said. “Definitely no repeats of what happened in the bathroom during the toy drive.”

Evan looked like he was going to protest that. Tommy was going to have to hold strong against how much of a tease Evan could be. It’d be difficult, but he’d do it.

“I’m serious,” Tommy said.

“So we’re keeping this a secret,” Evan said and his voice had gone a little strained.

“Uh, we don’t have to. I just figured you probably aren’t ready to tell everyone that you’re not as straight as we all thought.”

Their food arrived and Evan thanked the waitress.

“I don’t know if I want to lie to everyone,” Evan said. “I don’t know if I can.”

Tommy let out a sigh. Evan was an open book especially around everyone at work. It was one of the reasons that he got along so well with everyone. Who could hate someone like Evan? Tommy had certainly tried to dislike him and failed.

“Look, my experience isn’t yours. I was ashamed and I had some not supportive people around. It’s different for you, but that doesn’t make it less scary. It’s new for you and I can go at whatever pace you set. You can show up and tell them next shift. Or it can happen next week or next month. I’m here either way. It’s up to you, Evan.”

Evan took a moment and then he let out a sigh. “Can I think about it?”

“Of course.”

Tommy thought that he might also have to get a good look at what the policy was on dating a coworker so they could be prepared to deal with it.

“Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask,” Evan said, then, apropos of nothing, “what’s up with all the flight manuals?”

Tommy hadn’t known that Evan looked at his bookshelf all that closely.

“You saw those?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“I was a pilot while I was in the Army,” Tommy said.

He didn’t know what he was expecting from Evan, but the way that his jaw dropped was not it.

“How did I not know this already? That’s — I mean that’s so cool that you know how to fly. Helicopters? Planes?”

“Both,” Tommy said. “I, uh, I don’t advertise it.”

Evan looked even more shocked at that. “Why? If I could fly I’d tell everyone I ever met. I’d start off with that. Why aren’t you flying for airsupport?”

Tommy chuckled. “I fly in my free time. And that was my plan originally. It takes more than just having the license. There’s a lot of requirements and it’s competitive even when there is a free spot open.”

“Oh,” Evan said.

Tommy smiled at him. “One day, Evan. But, I could take you up sometime. If you want.”

“If I want? Yes, Tommy, I want. You don’t know how much hotter you just became to me. My pilot boyfriend.”

Tommy rolled his eyes even though hearing Evan call him his boyfriend was doing something to him, enough so that when the bill came he was just a few seconds too late to Evan grabbing it and sticking his card into the holder.

After breakfast, Tommy drove back to the 118 so Evan could get his car. Evan seemed reluctant to leave Tommy’s truck, and Tommy couldn’t even blame him because he didn’t want to leave Evan either. Wasn’t it odd, to not get tired of another person?

They lingered in the car together, both of them excusing that Evan was still telling Tommy about his sister even though it was the second or third topic they had begun right there in the car.

“I haven’t seen her in years,” Evan was saying. “I guess I miss her the most at the holidays.”

Tommy grabbed his hand and Evan smiled at him. Tommy didn’t fully understand the story behind Evan’s sister, but he knew she was important to him and that there was a lot of hurt there too. He had also gathered that it probably wasn’t her choice that they weren’t in contact. He hoped she was alright for her sake and Evan’s both.

When Evan finally let out a sigh, Tommy knew it was time.

“I guess I’ll see you next shift?”

“Yes.”

Evan nodded and then he leaned over and kissed Tommy, pulling back long enough to just look at him before he kissed him again. Tommy wanted nothing more than to keep kissing him.

“Go,” Tommy said after the third kiss. “Or you never will.”

“Bye, Tommy,” Evan said and once he was out of the car he waved at Tommy before going to his own.

Tommy waited until Evan had started his car and pulled out before he did, heading back home where it was far too quiet.

Walking into the station on Christmas Eve, Buck found Hen at the Christmas tree arranging the presents that the others had already brought in. Despite having seen Tommy’s truck parked outside he didn’t see the bag he’d seen at his house which made Buck just a tad suspicious. Buck was curious about what kind of gift giver Tommy was, but he’d find out later when they opened presents.

“Wrapped and everything,” Buck announced to Hen. “Where do you want it?”

“Give it here,” she said. “Who helped you wrap these?”

“Hey, I have skills,” Buck said. “And Youtube.”

And also Connor, but Hen didn’t need to know that one of Buck’s roommates was very good at wrapping and had done all the fancy folds on Tommy’s new pencils. He’d done it all right before leaving to catch a flight to get home for Christmas. In fact, Buck had never seen the house so quiet over the last day with everyone going home to see their parents. Considering how much Buck was enjoying having the place to himself, it was making Buck think that it really was time he start looking for a place of his own. That might have to be his goal in the new year.

Hen bumped his shoulder once she was done arranging everything. “So then you wouldn’t mind if I got you to wrap Denny’s birthday presents in a few months.”

“I think Karen probably knows what she’s doing,” Buck said. “I should go get changed.”

“Admit it, Buckley, you didn’t wrap any of them,” Hen said.

Buck shrugged his shoulders as he turned and walked away.

When he spotted Tommy in the locker room the urge to walk up to him and kiss him was strong. He had to tamp it down and just nod at him. Tommy smiled through his own nod and then gave his shoulder a squeeze when he walked out. They hadn’t seen each other since Tommy dropped Buck off to pick up his car, but they had texted a little, and Tommy had reiterated that they would need to be professional at work.

Buck was going to break and give them away, he was sure of it and a part of him didn’t care. A different part was a little worried about how things might change and not in regards to Tommy, but just in how everyone saw Buck and how they treated him. It was a little irrational.

Logically he knew nothing would change. Hen already knew. Tommy knew, obviously. Chim would probably pretend that he’d seen it coming. Bobby would probably have more to say about Buck and Tommy being together than anything else and only where it interfered with their work. Despite his own past regarding inappropriate use of department equipment, Buck did think he could be professional about it.

Still, Buck wanted to wait, but not for very long, just until he and Tommy were a bit more steady in the relationship they were forming. It was so new and throwing in the opinions of everyone they worked with would probably be a horrible idea.

The day didn’t drag, but it was also full of mundane calls. A small fender bender, a little old lady that fell down and broke her hip. A woman going into labor at a park. A lost child that wasn’t actually lost. A Christmas tree fire. Then, another one. What Buck liked was having Tommy near him, how they worked together side by side and sat in the truck together on the way to and from calls.

It was so wildly different from the week when Tommy had been avoiding him and Buck loved it. He might not be able to be openly affectionate because they were at work, but they could share glances and casual touch and it meant everything.

They had a nice dinner. Bobby had gone a little more fancy because it was Christmas Eve. Hen had helped by taking care of the salad, and Buck had been in charge of the mashed potatoes while Bobby took care of the roast. By some stroke of luck they managed to actually sit down and eat it without interruptions.

“This is probably the best Christmas I’ve had in a while,” Buck said halfway through.

It felt like an actual family Christmas, the type that didn’t really happen for Buck, not even when he’d lived with his parents especially after Maddie left. Christmas had meant being out of school and his parents, as teachers, being home too. Buck had tried to stay out of the house as much as possible.

Across from him Tommy made a face. “I don’t know if that’s sad or not.”

“Both,” Hen said. “I mean, Bobby’s cooking can make any Christmas good.”

“You got that right,” Chim said.

“I’m just glad you’re all appreciating our Christmas dinner even if we all have to be at work today.”

“Well, I don’t think Buck is wrong,” Tommy said. “This has been a good Christmas. One of the better ones for sure.”

Buck tried to avert his gaze from Tommy’s, but when he did look up he found Tommy’s eyes and he couldn’t help but smile. He ducked his head again before anyone could notice. He felt Tommy’s foot tap his under the table. Buck wished that he could ask Tommy to join him in the bathroom or in another secluded spot in the fire station so he could steal a kiss if nothing else.

He was almost glad when the next call came right as they were starting to clear up after dinner especially when he wound up sitting next to Tommy and he could touch him even if minimally.

Tommy had always been good at falling asleep almost anywhere, he was also easy to wake, so he heard when Evan got out of his bed and then felt it when Evan lifted his blanket and climbed into his.

“Ev—”

Evan was sleep warm and soft. He kissed his name off of Tommy’s lips and Tommy could do nothing but respond to it, kissing back because it was Evan and he would never deny Evan.

“Missed that,” Evan said against his lips.

They kissed again and then Evan dropped his head to Tommy’s shoulder, letting out a content sigh.

“You need to go back to your own bed,” Tommy whispered.

Evan nuzzled into him. “I know. Five minutes.”

Tommy knew more than five minutes passed, but he didn’t urge Evan to go. Instead he held him and ran his fingers through Evan’s hair. Kissed the top of it. Tommy tried not to drift off, but Evan was a happy weight atop him and he smelled good and it wasn’t difficult to be a little selfish and want to keep him there. Eventually, he did just drift off, arms pulling Evan closer to him.

The next thing Tommy knew was Chim’s voice.

“Holy shit. Guys, guys, come here.”

Hen’s incredulous laughter followed.

“What’s happening?” Bobby asked, followed by an, “oh.”

He blinked awake, felt the weight on him, the way that his legs were tangled with someone’s. Evan’s. Evan made a snuffling sound and he had definitely drooled on Tommy’s sleep shirt. Tommy froze when he looked at Hen, Chim, and Bobby who were all peering at them with big smiles.

“Oh,” he said.

“Tommy,” Evan said, voice rough from sleep. “I think we fell asleep. What time—” he froze and Tommy knew he’d opened his eyes and spotted their audience.

Evan made no move to get out of Tommy’s bed and Tommy didn’t really know what to say or do. He was grateful when Hen coughed.

“We’re going to go,” Hen said.

“Yeah, but what—”

Hen tugged Chim away.

“I think we’ll have to have a conversation later,” Bobby said, but he didn’t look upset or concerned, just mostly amused.

“Yes,” Tommy said. “We will.”

Bobby left and Tommy let out a breath. He had no idea how Evan was handling it and he hoped it wouldn’t put them two steps back on where they’d been just a few hours ago when Evan had decided to get into his bed with him. He hardly expected Evan to start laughing. He was giggling, shaking against Tommy because he couldn’t contain it.

“Evan,” Tommy said, carefully.

Evan took a few breaths and he sat up, facing Tommy. “I didn’t think I’d be able to keep it secret for very long, it’s just as well they found out now. Is that…is that alright?”

“You’re alright with it?”

“I am,” Evan said. “I mean it’s too late now, but it saves having to tell them. I don’t mind. Come on, they’re probably gossiping about us.”

“Bobby doesn’t gossip,” Tommy said.

Evan fixed him with a look. “He walks a careful line, but he gossips.”

Buck was glad in the end to have everything out in the open. It meant that when they did the Secret Santa presents at the end of their shift, he could sit next to Tommy closer than would be appropriate and hold his hand. Breakfast had been a little awkward admittedly, but it seemed like Hen had explained some of what she knew. Chim had given them both pats on the back and Bobby had given them smiles and a reminder that they’d need to have a bigger conversation on their next shift.

Buck expected there to be more questions and he was sure eventually there would be, but for the time they were just letting Buck and Tommy be.

“I’ll begin,” Hen said and dug around for the present she’d brought in. “I got you, Cap.”

She handed him a box wrapped in red wrapping paper.

“Thank you, Hen,” Bobby said. “Uh, do I open it? Or are we waiting until everyone has theirs?”

“You can open it,” Hen said.

“I wonder how this goes down with Denny,” Buck whispered to Tommy.

Tommy shrugged his shoulders. “I imagine not like this.”

Bobby’s gift turned out to be a very nice fire engine red dutch oven. Bobby seemed pleased with it and he smiled at Hen appreciatively before he went to fetch his own gift. Bobby had gotten Chim and he handed him a gift bag. Out of it came a very nice looking sweater and along with it a wallet.

“Yours has been looking a bit worn out,” Bobby explained.

“I’ll transfer everything over right away. Thanks, Bobby.”

Chim’s present was for Hen. Hen took the bag with care and reached inside. First there was a stuffed hen that made Hen roll her eyes, but following that was a skincare set that had Hen raise her eyebrows.

“Have you been talking to Karen?”

“Nope,” Chim said.

“I guess that means you’re up, Tommy,” Hen said.

Buck let go of his hand and Tommy grabbed a bigger bag than the one Buck had seen the day before. “I was originally going to tell you not to open all of it, but since everyone knows now I guess it doesn’t really matter.”

They had gotten each other. Buck hadn’t expected that. He grinned at Tommy and their fingers brushed when Tommy passed him the bag. Everything inside was wrapped except for one thing that had a bit of tissue paper covering it. It was a frame and when Buck withdrew it, he gasped.

The drawing was of him. He had his firefighter helmet on and he was looking off to the side. It was amazing.

“Wow,” he said.

“Yeah,” Chim said, looking over Buck’s shoulder. “Who drew that?”

“Tommy did,” Buck said. “This is amazing.”

“I don’t think it does you justice.”

Buck felt his cheeks go warm.

“There’s more,” Tommy said.

The next thing was wrapped in silver and green wrapping paper. When he tore it off he found a cardboard box. Inside was a carved wooden dog with a firefighter helmet. Buck didn’t remember seeing that piece, but he did remember the wood carver they’d seen at the Christmas Market.

“That’s really nice too,” Hen said. “Did you make that too, Tommy?”

“Oh. No. Definitely not.”

The next thing was a mug that really did declare to the world that Buck was bisexual. He loved it and planned on drinking from it as often as possible. And last there were two books that Buck would definitely be picking up and flipping through later.

“Thank you,” he said to Tommy. “I loved every part of it. And now, it’s your turn to open yours.”

Tommy smiled. “Bring it on.”

Buck watched him unwrap each of the presents. The box of chocolates got a grin from him and he seemed to appreciate the sketch books, but the colored pencils got a bigger reaction.

“I’ve been looking at these for a while,” he admitted. “Didn’t know if I should get them. Thank you. How’d you—”

“Good guess,” Buck said. “But you like them?”

“Yes. Definitely. Thank you, Evan.”

Buck leaned over to him and as low as he could say it, muttered, “this isn’t the only thing you’re getting for Christmas.”

“Evan,” Tommy said, warning in his tone.

“I don’t know if I like this,” Chim said pointing at them. “You’re too buddy buddy now. It’s not normal.”

“That sounds homophobic,” Buck said at once and turned to Tommy. “Does that sound homophobic to you, Tommy?”

Chim looked from Tommy to Buck and then to Hen. “I’m feeling a little outnumbered here.”

“Don’t worry, Chim,” Tommy said, “you’ve always got Bobby on your team.”

Tommy couldn’t have guessed that Evan had had him for the Secret Santa. He wondered if Hen knew what she had done for them and how without it, he wouldn’t be walking out of the firestation with Evan, arms brushing against each other but too full with their duffles and Christmas presents to manage to also hold hands.

After putting his things in his truck, Tommy turned to Evan.

“Did you really like what I got you?” Evan asked. “I mean, buying an artist colored pencils and sketchbooks is kind of a copout.”

“I got everything I wanted, Evan,” Tommy said and he grabbed Evan’s hands, drawing him in. “I got you, didn’t I?”

Evan groaned. “That was cheesy, Tommy. So cheesy.”

“But true,” Tommy said and he leaned in and kissed Evan.

Evan melted into him, clutched at Tommy and kissed him back.

#bucktommy #bucktommy fic #tommy kinard #evan buckley #911 abc #tevan #911 fic #christmas fic

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