#the fanfiction gaps lmao

[dilfmobius]

"Existence is chaos. Nothing makes any sense so we try to make some sense of it. And I'm just lucky the chaos I emerged into gave me all of this. My own glorious purpose." LOKI 1x02 - The Variant

[labyrinthofcrystals]

I have 2 series ideas:

That Crane Girl

Fandom: DC Comics.

Set in the "Blackest Night" continuity. Or just...takes inspiration from those events, namely that Scarecrow still has his yellow ring. Focuses on Scarecrow's daughter, an OC, as she mainly tries to live her life while also lowkey being cursed.

In progress, currently 8 planned fics.

This Life is Mine

Fandom: Marvel.

A slice-of-life thing that focuses on Norman & Goblin. This is like so many AUs deep I'm not to sure if it would even be worth posting/talking about as it strays so far from canon.

In progress, in the middle of being reworked/rewritten so only 3 planned fics so far.

[svtskneecaps]

literally it's 3am where i live and i'm on mobile but FUCK IT i haven't posted any actual writing in like a YEAR on this blog whose description include the words "I WRITE" and i can't tell if i'm even going anywhere with this so fuck it under the cut is the prospective absolute mess of the first chapter of the flipo family time loop fic. (for clarity, flipo family as in slime, mariana, and juanaflippa) this covers loop 0, aka the relevant parts of canon. words: 1630

parts of it i popped off with and other parts i hate; up to you to identify them. also the italics and other formatting got erased when i copy pasted and i'm re-adding all of it by hand so if i missed a spot, no i didn't. if i missed an accent on a letter in spanish that was a typo, if i missed a ¡ or ¿ that may have been on purpose.

oh and for obvious reasons, content warning for mentions and mild descriptions of child death and child murder. no blood, and most of it is a three word mention; i'd say the brief paragraph beginning "Tilín didn't scream" is most of the reason this warning exists.

Charlie Slimecicle stepped off the train.

He’d been hoping for a bright, sunny day to start their vacation, but was sorely disappointed. The portal had apparently taken them pretty far, since they’d gone from noon to night time. Talk about jetlag. They hadn’t even been on a plane.

“What happened to the other guys?” he wondered aloud as he stepped onto the platform.

“Yeah no clue,” Phil said, scanning the empty station. “Thought they’d meet us here.”

“Guys!” one of the Spanish speakers--Vegetta, he’d said, when they’d all met up at the first station--called, from a lectern at the wall. “There is a book!”

They crowded around as he read the instructions aloud--something about pressure plates, Slime wasn’t paying that close of attention. He was a little more preoccupied with making sure it only felt like his brain was dripping out of his ears. That would be kind of embarrassing.

Which was not to say that he wasn’t enjoying the constant onslaught of people talking over each other using words he may or may not understand. In fact, it was the opposite; he was frankly thriving in the absolute chaos that kicked back up around him as a timer appeared in the wrist communicators they’d been provided along with their tickets.

“Como se dice ‘we are going to die now’?” He giggled, chasing Phil and Fit to one end of the station.

“¡Vamos a morir!” shouted Spiderman, echoed seconds later by the black bear in the collared shirt.

Giddy over the high of attempting to use his high school foreign language for the first time maybe ever, Slime absolutely didn’t contribute much to solving the puzzle, and before long the sound of the timer ticking down was accompanied by a loud buzzing alarm.

“It’s been an honor!” he shrieked at the top of his lungs. “It’s been an honor!”

The bear ran past them again, shouting, “I’m going to die!” in English this time.

“Adiós amigos!” Slime yelled.

The countdown ended.

And then his communicator buzzed, and there was a video playing on the screen, showing a cartoonish yellow duck in front of a blurry beach stock photo. He skimmed it absently--some generic welcoming message and another side quest for them--distracted by Maximus audibly losing his shit laughing across the station.

“Come on, I’m trying to take a vacation, I gotta work now?” Fit complained. “This is ridiculous.”

Slime wanted to jump on that bit, but the message cut off with coordinates marred by static and the noise of the emergency weather alert system and he lost his train of thought completely.

“I got the English book!” Spreen called, holding it with two fingers like it had personally offended him.

“English leader,” Vegetta said, seeming to find that amusing.

“English leader.” Spreen laughed and flicked the book away. Slime stepped back but somehow it still nailed him in the chest.

“Guess I’m reading then,” he said cheerfully.

“In Spanish?” Maximus said.

“Um.”

Vegetta called something, backing across the plaza with the book open in his hands. Phil backed up to the wall.

“Here,” Phil instructed, “we’ll read it here.”

“Okay okay.” He flicked it open. “So we have to get water wheel planks--”

Their peace lasted a grand total of thirty seconds as voices suddenly began shouting, overlapping in chaotic chorus.

“What is that?” Fit demanded.

“Is that coming from the other side?” Phil stared up at the top of the wall.

“This is the thinnest thick wall I’ve ever seen,” Slime said, giddy laughter bubbling out of him again. “Is this thing made out of pencil shavings? If I sneeze on it, is there gonna be a hole?”

“Nevermind, we’ll read it over here.” Phil dragged them away again, but the Spanish speakers were dispersing into the trees.

“Forget the book,” Fit said, “follow them!”

(In the end it was explosives that took the wall down, which in hindsight was a precursor to how a not insignificant portion of time on the island was spent. The first day, however, it was just funny, much like everything else.)

(That was to say, the first first day.)

The communicator had indicated that today there was something special planned, so he made an extra effort to wake up.

“Morning Jaiden!” he called to his upstairs neighbor.

“Hi Charlie!” He could hear her farming through the wall. “Glad you woke up on time!”

“Well you know, you know, El Backflipo couldn’t miss it,” he joked, sifting through his backpack. “Got any spare food? I’ll trade you uno backflipo.”

“I have so much toast, come here and get some, free of charge.”

With a quick backflip and some toast to start the day, he popped open the map.

“There’s a lot of people down the wall,” he noted, their green dots so clustered they formed one. “Wanna check it out?”

“Yeah sure.” Jaiden tossed some seeds into a chest. “Do you know what this event’s gonna be?”

“I have no idea,” he admitted cheerfully.

She laughed. “Yeah, me neither. I guess there’s an egg involved, but that’s all I know.”

He dug around in his backpack for a paraglider, nodding along. “Yeah, yeah, un huevo, I get you.” Shuffling the landmine from Vegetta to one side, he yanked out his glider and threw himself out her window. “Let’s go!”

(nothing like getting struck by lightning to wake a guy up in the morning)

Slime fiddled with the communicator as he waited for the line of people to get through the ticket machine; he already had his own, a nice B for Backflipo. The new live translations still boggled his mind. He had to fight the urge to chant weird shit under his breath, just to see what the bubbles would say.

He paid a little extra attention when Mariana walked up to the machine. That guy seemed cool. They’d done that pequeño dormir together on day one, and he had a good sense of humor. Egg parenting would probably be funny.

He was thrilled to see the B for Backflipo on the ticket Mariana stepped away with, even if Mariana was decidedly less so. This was gonna be good.

(it was, and it wasn’t)

So, Mariana wasn’t exactly the coparent of dreams. Then again, Slime was pretty sure Mariana could say the same about him. In fact he was pretty sure Mariana had said the same, but in Spanish, when he wasn’t checking the translation.

It was great. They thought they’d killed a child immediately and then decided to fake their own child’s death to get away with it, and then confessed their sins to a bilingual angel and built a farm and then he buried himself beneath an improvised cross and went into a coma until his sins were forgiven, or something, except his sins weren’t forgiven in time to save his own child’s life.

And then Juanaflippa was dead. Dead at Mariana’s hand.

His bitch wife killed their daughter.

(Everything went faster, after that.)

Slime wanted to kill him.

Slime wanted to kill him for killing their fucking daughter, but of course, Mariana couldn’t even be bothered to be around to take care of her alive, never mind to pay for his crimes when she died by his hand!

(in a better world, his rage started and ended there. in a better world, the anger fizzled out with the lack of a target.

this was not that world)

There couldn’t be an Egg Event with no eggs.

If he killed them all, it would bring her back.

(in a worse world, he succeeded. in a worse world, the Egg Event ended there.

this was not that world)

They held a trial.

If he won, it would bring her back.

(in another world, he didn’t convince them. in another world, they left his daughter in Hell.

this was not that world)

Tilín was still before she hit the ground.

Tilín didn’t scream. Maybe they didn’t have time. It happened so fast. He was sure it happened fast. Almost too fast. But everything went so fast, now, even though Flippa was back. Yet, time slowed down for this, like a rubberneck driving past a highway accident, watching him desperately trying to shock their heart back into motion.

“YOU KILL MY BEST FRIENDS,” Flippa wrote. He begged her to understand. She wrote, “i can’t believe it.”

She wrote, “I HATE YOU.”

(in a better world, the error would have been caught in April instead of July.

this was not that world)

His daughter fell to his bitch wife’s sword. The same way. The next day.

They’d only just gotten her back. And Mariana killed her again.

He only left eggxile for the funeral. She wouldn’t stay dead, but he had to be there.

Time went even faster after that. He was Gegg, or maybe Gegg was him, or maybe Gegg was Gegg, or maybe. . . ?

He went back to eggxile.

He wasn’t leaving without them. Tilín. Juanaflippa. He would do whatever was necessary. He would pray to any higher power. Lil J still owed him a goddamn favor, but the guy wouldn’t pick up his calls. Maybe if he put more shit in the shrine; angels liked shiny shit, didn’t they? He went back to the mine, where the gasses swirled in his head. He built the shrine. He mined. He built the shrine.

He went back to the mine.

He went back to the mine.

He went back to the mine.

“This is where I sit, this is where my bitch wife sits, and this is where my daughter sits, if I had one!”

He’d said that before. No he hadn’t. Yes he had.

No, he just needed to clear his head.

Charlie Slimecicle went back to the mine.

Charlie Slimecicle stepped off the train.

[tsugarubecker]

(Chapter one under the cut! 💕)

Bridging the Gap

Chapter 1

It’s been a long day.

Will Byers thinks it might possibly have been the longest day of his entire life so far. (He’s purposefully choosing to disregard his week in the upside down. Also his other week being possessed. Those don’t count. No other bad day would stand a chance against those ones, and that’s not fair.)

One more time he fluffs the navy blue sleeping bag he’s pulled out of storage, shaking out the slightly musty smell. Not that Mike’s ever minded little things like that. Mike’s slept on the floor, slept in a hospital chair when Will needed him.

Not that things are… quite like that, anymore.

Reasonably satisfied that he’s shaken the sleeping back for all it’s worth, Will lays it on his bedroom floor and mutters “c’mon, Will” to himself under his breath. He can’t stand here feeling self-indulgently miserable about Mike right now. He’s got couch cushions to grab.

He moves almost two full steps out of his doorway and nearly collides with Mike.

“Ah shit,” Mike hisses, twisting at the last second to avoid contact. Will stumbles, retreats a step backwards into his room, startled. They’re still standing too close.

“Uh… hi.” Will says, blinking at his friend. “Sorry.”

“No no, it’s all good. I’m sorry. Uh, I mean, for nearly running into you. Sorry.” Mike scratches his head. He’s looking at the wall.

“It’s okay. I was just gonna grab some couch cushions. That’s better than the floor, right?”

“…Grab the couch cushions, like off the couch?” Mike is now looking over Will’s shoulder into his room. He clocks the sleeping bag. His expression is unreadable.

“Um, yeah. I figured we could put them down in here. I grabbed you a sleeping bag. It smells like the attic but I figured you wouldn’t mind too much.”

Mike looks like he minds.

“…Unless you do mind? I can grab some blankets instead, I’m sure my mom has a couple extra on her—“

“—Well I was just thinking maybe I’d—“

“—bed that I’m sure I can grab—“

“—just sleep on the couch.”

Will looks at Mike. He blinks. His heart suddenly seems to weigh five extra pounds. He has no idea why this didn’t occur to him, especially after their fight today, and now he feels deeply embarrassed and childish. Of course - of course Mike will sleep on the couch.

“Oh! Yeah. Yeah, totally. Okay.” His chest doesn’t feel like it has an anvil on it. His throat isn’t getting choked up. Just because they always, always had their sleepovers in one another’s bedrooms doesn’t mean that needs to keep being a thing that happens. They’re practically adults now. Things change. They can still be friends. It’s okay. He’s fine. Everything is fine. “Um, do you want the uh…” he clears his throat as emotion threatens to destabilize his voice. “The, uh, sleeping bag? Or should I grab you some of those—“

“The sleeping bag is fine. Thanks.” Mike looks expectantly at Will. He looks testy, and exhausted. Overwhelmed - and no energy left to spare Will’s feelings.

Obligingly Will turns, hesitates for a second while deciding whether to fold up the sleeping bag, thinks better of it, grabs it up and crumples it together unceremoniously before turning and passing it to Mike. It’s a struggle to keep from throwing it at him or at least shoving it into his arms, but he narrowly avoids both. When he passes it to Mike, his right hand brushes Mike’s left. It’s an accident. Will sees Mike’s eyelashes flutter for a soft moment. Or it’s a trick of the dimmed down lights.

“Thanks.” Mike murmurs, taking a small awkward sideways step away. “I’m… gonna brush my teeth. Okay if I go first?”

Will’s chest is so tight he hardly trusts himself to speak. “Mmhmm.” He nods. He forces a small smile.

“Okay.” Mike turns and leaves.

Will stands in his doorway and watches him go. Once he’s turned the corner Will slowly backs all the way into his room and quietly closes the door. For a moment he just stands there. Then he leans forward and rests his forehead on the door. Breathes. Tries to fill his heavy chest with air. His head is pounding.

A couple minutes pass. He finally turns, moves away from the door toward the bed. Flicks the light off as he goes, deciding, screw it, he’s not brushing his teeth tonight.

He pulls himself into bed, muscles feeling slow like quicksand, and folds himself all up into the blankets like he’s a child. Like he’s fragile. Needs cushioning. Like if he moves too quickly or with too much force he might break.

He curls onto his side, one arm finding the one stuffed animal he allows himself (a worn, beige bear) and the fingers of his other hand grasping his pillow. The blankets are pulled over his head.

It’s only then, when he’s safely covered up and alone, that he allows the first sob to come.

Chapter 2

[darkshrimpemotions]

.

[bi-badass-geek]

"Filling the Gaps" by Neda5555

As the name suggests fellas what happened right after Sam got Mon back : (AO3)

[m1d-45]

Truth to be told, I was not a huge fan of the SAGAU. I just thought it was a bit of a wasted potential, the themes just being played around in my opinion (everyone can like whatever) BUT then I came across your writing? Yes, I think I've grown rather fond toward it now. It was like finding gold in a mine... Words put together intricately, so beautifully, the symbolism subtle if not one squints to recognize, and just... *chef's kiss*

Very in love with your work ❤ have a great day/night, ty for bringing new light on the SAGAU for me!

thank you so much <33 i’m glad to know i’ve interested you in the genre, and though i can’t point you in any directions, i do reccomend you poke around a bit more online! there are a lot of great writers around, and i’m grateful you think i’m one of them!

enjoy your stay!

[mimicteruyo]

tfw you finally put together a full chapter outline of the wip that’s become the bane of your existence and realise to your horror that you need to invent a whole new chapter to put in the middle (unrelated to the other chapter in the middle where you know about one plot point and that’s it)

[steviesbicrisis]

💫 Steve Harrington's House 💫

So, after this post, I couldn't let go of this house. I decided to rebuild it in The Sims and then I had so much info I felt the need to share it. Other than commenting on some crazy aspects of this mansion, I think it can give some input/ideas for possible scenarios in fanfiction! (for one, I'd like to know what Eddie thinks about half of the features of this house lmao). My process was: canon information > actual house information > gaps I filled the best I could Disclaimer: keep on describing Steve's house however you want to!! I'm sharing this in case you wanna be as close to the actual house as possible!

Listings: Zillow | Trulia | Homemetry

Credits: Sticky notes by rawpixel.com | Washi tapes by rawpixel.com | background paper by starline all on Freepik

[plutoccult]

ALWAYS THE ARTIST, NEVER THE MUSE

pairing: eren yeager x gender neutral reader

description: you know you shouldn’t have let yourself fall for eren, but you did anyway, and it only left you with nothing but hurt when you knew his heart belonged to another. after months of torture, you finally have the strength to let go, granting you the happiness you so desperately needed back in your life.

word count: 1.7k

also available to read on my ao3 here

author’s note: happy december? no, angsty december. this particular one shot is a little personal for me because it’s based off a final conversation i had with someone who i essentially let have hold of my heart for far too long and finally had the strength to let go of them a few months ago. he’s like jake gyllenhaal minus the age gap. i say this because he gave me the ability to relate to the moment i knew aka not being there for my 21st birthday! insane! i did however make it less personal by giving it some how i met your mother vibes, but there’s still inklings of my personal life in it. writing helps me heal and express my feelings in a way that i’m comfortable with, so i feel good writing this as part of my healing journey? corny to use fanfiction for healing, but to each their own. sorry if this is too angsty, but imagine how my life has been LMAO. anyway, big shoutout to my friend @toorubobatea for beta reading this. i really wanted her to read it before i posted it, so thank you queen!! and now i hope you guys can enjoy it just like she did! mwah! and i’m tagging @jeanboyjean since she so kindly asked me to <3

you knew that the day you met eren yeager, your life would never be the same, but my god, did it your life turn upside down. pulled in so many different directions you couldn’t tell what was left or right anymore. you felt like you were losing yourself in the process, but you wanted more of him like you wanted to breathe air.

it was always a mistake. one beautiful, soul-crushing mistake. he’d lead you on with mixed signals and uncertainty, but you lived for the thrill because it was the only interesting thing going on in your life. it’s “for the plot”, as you’d always say. even if your friends told you a million times he was bad news and you would only get hurt in the end, you didn’t care.

he was just your friend, that’s what you two always claimed; just friends, but you always sensed a hint of a lie in those words. you couldn’t be just friends. not when he remembered everything you said down to what you had for lunch last week or that time your mother fainted as she watched you get stitches for the first time as a kid. not when he spoke to you everyday like clockwork, a routine that seemed to come easy. how could you ever be just friends? how could it not be more?

you were inevitably in love with eren yeager, and it crushed you when you realized he never once had those feelings for you. not only that, but he was in love with someone else; mikasa ackerman, his best friend since childhood. it all made perfect sense, and you wished you never met him in the first place. but even then, you couldn’t keep yourself away from him. as long as he didn’t know of your feelings, everything would be fine, right? oh, how you were so, so wrong.

you tortured yourself every time you spoke to him. you listened to him as he pined for mikasa, too scared to admit his feelings to her. of course you knew what it was like to be in that position, the one you wanted was sitting right in front of you and he didn’t seem to have a clue. it frustrated you so much, but even so, you’d rather have something instead of nothing with him. such a sad way to feel, such a sad way to live when you think about it now. always the artist, never the muse. constantly crafting for others, nothing ever created just for you.

you’d push those feelings deep down into the darkest pit of your heart, but no matter how hard you tried, it would all come back every time you saw his face or even thought of him. those thoughts of maybe if you were prettier, funnier, and just overall better plagued your mind, but you had to shake them away. one day, you knew, you’d ultimately become fed up and blow up about it. it was the only way you knew how, the only way you could be free.

so now here you were, sitting at your usual booth in your favorite bar—assuming it may no longer be yours after tonight—waiting for eren to arrive so you could talk. you assumed he could sense your seriousness and urgency when you texted him, but you figured so be it. one way or another, you’d do this.

he arrived like you expected. you refused to let him make you second guess yourself, so you kept your cool and acted as normal before you dropped the bomb on him. besides, the shot you took before he showed up was quite the help, plus the drink you swirled around in its glass now.

eren walked over to the bar to grab a drink before heading over to the booth, expecting you to stand up and greet him with a hug like always, but you remained in your seat, clutching your drink in your hands.

“hey, i got your text.” he said as he sat down across from you.

“i see that.” you reply. he noticed you were acting different, not like the y/n he knew. it was obvious you had something on your mind, and since he knew you so well, eren could sense you were going to spill your guts about something.

“what’s up? is something wrong?” eren asked. this was it.

“i just.” you pause. oh god, you were really doing this. “i just wanted to say that i’m done with whatever this is.”

he’s silent, he doesn’t know what to say. you feel like the words are all coming out like vomit. you almost wish you were spewing real vomit right now, but you weren’t quite drunk enough for that. you had to get through this hellish conversation first, at least.

“i’m done. i’m not going to make a fool out of myself anymore. i’m done trying. i’m giving up.” you say, tears threatening to stream down your face, but you fight them away. “i’m done exhausting myself of trying to be something i’ll never be because deep down i know i’ll never be yours.”

eren should’ve seen this coming. all those times you fell silent when he ranted to you about his love problems. you always wanted to scream in his face about how the one person in this world that actually wanted him was always right there, that it was you. even so, he could never give you what you wanted, and he felt like the worst person in the world because of it.

you wait for him to speak, but he doesn’t say anything. if this was going to be your final conversation, he might as well say something. “well, speak now or forever hold your peace because i’m clearly not holding mine.”

“i mean, it’s just not what i was expecting to hear.” eren finally spoke. “i’m just shocked.”

“trust me, i never expected to say it either, but if i’ve learned anything, it’s that i care too much.” you tearfully admit. “too much about you when i know where your heart belongs and it’s not with me.”

“i’m sorry, y/n. i never meant for things to get like this.” he said with sincerity, although you wondered if it was all a lie. “and you must know that there was never any hostile intentions behind any of my actions.”

“that’s funny. it always seemed like there was.” you looked down at your drink, quickly moving your gaze back to him as he spoke once more.

“no, you…” eren paused, trying to put the words together in the best way he could. even if he didn’t seem like it, he did care someway, somehow. “you’ve been there for me when i needed someone most and i’m really, really grateful for that, but i can’t give you what you want, and i’ve been unfair to you as a result. i’m sorry.”

huh. this really wasn’t what you were expecting. where’s the insults? where’s the twisting of your words? why is he actually being apologetic and taking accountability? you wanted to say this was crazy, but this is eren you’re talking about. you always knew he was too good. too good to ever be yours, even.

“you know, this is usually the part where you flip out and make it all my fault instead by calling me delusional and crazy.” you force a laugh. might as well laugh through the pain, right?

“i’m not gonna flip out.” eren said.

“why?” you question him.

“because i know i’ve done wrong by you.” he replied.

“well, that’s a shock.” you take a sip of your drink, tempted to chug it, but eren’s words shocked you into stopping the liquid from going past your lips.

“it shouldn’t have to be, y/n.” he frowned. “you deserve someone who won’t weigh you down. you deserve to move on, even if it’s not flattering for me.”

you set down your drink as you let out a sigh and briefly cover your face, rubbing your eyes before showing yourself once more. “i hate that you’re being so nice about this. i was expecting to yell at you or something.”

“do you want to?” eren asked you.

as much as past you would have loved to, you didn’t have the energy to be bitter anymore. “no… i’m okay. this is better.”

“you sure?”

“yeah, positive.” you say, followed by silence. there wasn’t much for you to say anymore, and you couldn’t beat on this dead horse any longer. it was time to finally say goodbye, no matter how much it pained you to do so. “um, i guess we should just end this here, huh?”

“yeah, guess so.” he looked away. this hurt eren too, but you both knew this was for the best. you’ll be thankful later down the road.

“would it be totally wrong to sneak in a taylor swift quote right now?” you ask, almost immediately regretting the question.

“no, go for it.”

“eh, maybe not. too corny.” you thought it would be best to keep those words to yourself. besides, it was too hard to pin it down to just one thing. he was worth a hundred songs, ones you may never listen to the same way, but that’s okay.

“she’s a wise, wise woman, you know.” eren said, a grin slowly creeping up on his face, despite the circumstances.

“yeah, she is.” you softly smile. at least you could end this on a little good note.

“goodbye, y/n. i wish you the best in everything.”

“goodbye, eren. i really hope you get her someday.”

and with that, you placed a twenty dollar bill on the table and left the bar, no longer claiming it as your favorite and leaving it to eren, along with your favorite place to sit. like with everything else in life, nothing lasts forever, nothing stays the same, and that’s okay. you knew that now.

it was such a strange feeling, having this weight lifted off your shoulders. you had been burdened with this boulder for so long you forgot what it felt like to be weightless. you were finally clean of eren yeager, light as a feather, but most importantly, happy, and freeing yourself of such delusions was the greatest gift you could ever receive.

© plutoccult / 310802. please do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my content in or outside of tumblr. reblogs are appreciated <3

[carniferous]

dil do you have any spare thoughts on jegulus 🤲🏼

jegulus is like a years-long social experiment i keep expecting someone from harvard university to pop out of nowhere and be like Jegulus was a an engineered mass-hallucination for the purpose of seeing if a harry potter yaoi ship between two characters that have never interacted on account of being dead for years at the start of canon could make it to the top 20 most popular ships on ao3

lmao no but in all honesty jegulus is my favorite… if you couldn’t already tell from. the 100k+ words of fanfiction i’ve written about them. they’re the doomed love affair of All time to me. and like… the doomed aspect is very important and compelling to me. not to plug my own fucking fic but this will always be a core part of my jegulus thesis:

He worries that he’ll always wish to be back there, waiting for Regulus’s call. Decades will pass, a lifetime, and the wish won’t fade. He could love a thousand people and nothing will ever compare to the frightening, purposeful way he loved the first time. No one will ever know him so bare and uninhibited as he was at sixteen. The thought scares him so much that he almost throws up again.

it’s the first love and the first end of love that changes you so fundamentally. you can never love like that again bc you’re no longer capable of it. you are a fundamentally different person now bc of that love. it’s this

jegulus is also the love story that wasn’t meant to happen yk? i joke about this all the time but also it’s so serious to me. in a canon setting their love story is always woven through the gaps in the Narrative. they love each other despite the story they’re supposed be living out… and they have no choice but to live that story out! regulus has to take the dark mark. he has to die. james has to marry lily and have harry. he has to die. all in all their love changed nothing about their story but it also changed both of Them so fundamentally. just not in ways that are apparent to anyone but themselves

we also cannot ignore sirius….. sirius!!! sirius might be more important to jegulus than james and regulus themselves. he is the inadvertent crux the accidental catalyst. he would never ever dream of james and regulus falling in love he would actively stop it if he could but he CANNOT bc he’s the reason it happened. regulus and james are only aware of each other’s existence because of sirius. they’re bound to each other by the fact that they cannot separate themselves from sirius.

but i don’t think that james wants to save regulus because he saved sirius. i think james is aware of the fact that he Didn’t save sirius. sirius saved himself. and therefore james understands the differences between regulus and sirius and wants to save regulus himself. he wants to be the white knight rescuing the princess from the tower. he wants to give regulus a better life. and regulus wants that more than anything…. but he doesn’t believe in it. he can’t let himself hope that james is telling the truth bc if he is then it means that Sirius was telling the truth and regulus can’t bear that. it’s this endless misunderstanding……

i think a lot of jegulus fans make the point about how “love isn’t enough to save someone” and while i do think this is a correct statement… the only thing that can save regulus is love. there’s nothing else for him there’s nothing he’s been denied in life except love and connection and if he let himself believe he could have those things…. he could walk out!! james COULD save him!!! love CAN be enough

send me ships/characters !!

[sundrop-writes]

The Girl Next Door

Hank Hall x Fem!Reader x Dawn Granger

Summary:

When you move in across the hall from Hank and Dawn, they become incredibly protective of you. When you ask Dawn for some advice to help your sex life along - she and Hank show you that everything you ever wanted has been right across the hall all along.

Dom!Hank Hall x Sub!Fem!Reader x Dom!Dawn Granger. Neighbours to Lovers. Smut. Set before the major canon.

Word Count: 5,600

DC Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link

THIS IS A RE-POST. This is a fic from my old blog (a blog that was shadowbanned, forcing me to move). This fic is not stolen, it is completely mine, and I am just re-posting it to help people find my new blog, and to make my masterlist complete when I post new fics for this fandom.

List of detailed warnings and author’s notes below the cut.

Warnings: there is a mention of the reader being sexually assaulted (groped) by a random outside man - and Dawn and Hank kick his ass, mentions of canon level violence (not super detailed), the reader is more feminine - it’s mentioned that she wears make-up and participates in typical beauty rituals, age gap relationship (I imagine the reader to be 22/23, Dawn is 27/28, and Hank is 32/33) and it is mentioned in the fic that Hank feels slightly ‘guilty’ about the reader being so much younger than him and having sexual feelings for her - but he gets over those feelings of guilt when he realizes that the reader is showing enthusiastic consent/has a lot of lust for him and Dawn in return, sub/dom dynamics - the reader is submissive, Dawn is very dominant, and Hank is dominant over the reader but listens to Dawn/follows her rules (but not really in a submissive way??), the reader character uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina, the reader character is not a virgin (the reader character is very faux innocent), under-negotiated kink - all parties have enthusiastic consent during the situation, but it is not thoroughly discussed beforehand and no safewords are in place (though Dawn and Hank obviously use queues like any signs of physical discomfort and they would not outright ignore the word ‘no’).

Dawn and Hank are very protective over the reader (it could be edging on yandere, but I don’t know how you could categorize it), mentions of alcohol - partly background, and there is a mention of Dawn drinking wine before the sex happens but it’s definitely not enough to impair her ability to consent (there is no explicit mentions of the reader character drinking alcohol), mentions of porn/watching porn, Dawn teaches the reader character how to perform a blowjob using a banana, (though it is heavily implied that the reader is more experienced than she lets on and is just playing innocent), innocence kink/corruption kink (kind of?), the world ‘little’ is used to describe the reader or her clothing, but it is not meant to imply that the reader is thin/skinny - it is meant to say that her clothing is too small for her (revealing a lot of skin), or it’s simply an expression, the reader is referred to as ‘sweetheart’, ‘sweetie’, ‘brat’, ‘good girl’, ‘honey’, ‘doll’, ‘naughty girl’, ‘slut’, ‘whore’, hair-pulling (Hank and Dawn pulling the reader’s hair), Daddy kink (towards Hank), the reader gives Hank a blow-job, size kink - mentions of Hank’s cock being massive and how his general body/frame is very big (no mentions of the reader being skinny/dainty), slight sweat kink, spit kink, mentions of ball worship (as a fantasy - doesn’t actually take place during the fic), finger sucking, leg humping, orgasm restriction (put on the reader by Dawn), I believe that is everything. This is generally just filthy smutty fun lmao.

A/N: This was originally supposed to be much shorter, and the cut off for blurbs vs oneshots officially in my mind is 5k. So this is a full oneshot fic and not just a blurb lmao. Blame Star she causes me to get carried away. Often. (It makes really great fanfiction though.)

For reference, this takes place during the period of time when Dawn and Hank had parted from the other Titans (after Garth’s death) and they were living in DC, before Dick and Rachel showed up there looking for help.

Also - the situation here is really similar to a scene in this fic and it’s completely by coincidence (I guess these are just my bisexual thoughts lmao) but I love the difference in the context and the energy of both of these fics even though the actual situation playing out is every similar. I guess it just goes to show - you can write the same prompt/situation for fics a dozen times, and it will come out different every single time.

…

When you first moved into the building, you never imagined yourself becoming so close with people like Dawn and Hank. 

In any other situation, you probably wouldn’t have been incredibly close with two people like them. They were both older than you, and didn’t really run in your social circles. An ex-college football star who had fallen a long way from his glory days, seemingly humbled a lot since then - who now picked up a lot of odd jobs, mostly of the handyman variety to fill his time. And a woman who could have easily been mistaken for a prissy primadonna on the outside, someone who was kind and down to earth, who filled her days teaching interpretive dance to combat grief at the local youth center. 

You were a young woman, unsure and still forming a life for yourself as you shaped out how your twenties, and likely the rest of your life, were going to be. You were surprised when a fantastic job opportunity at a tech firm in DC made itself available. Seeing as you had recently graduated with the exact degree that the company had been looking for, you seized the opportunity to move states just to chase after such a prestigious job. 

You had no idea how isolating it would be, being in a brand new city where you didn’t know anyone else, your family so far away. You had no sense of attachment, moving into a new home in a random apartment building just so you could start a real career for yourself. 

It was only because of the kindness of those two people (who were random strangers to you at the time) that you didn’t feel completely lost living in that big, new, scary city. 

Your friendship with them had started out because on the day you had moved in, Hank found you lugging your heavy boxes up the stairs when the elevator was out of service and - being the kind of guy he was - he couldn’t resist the urge to swoop in and help. 

When you first saw him, you were slightly intimidated by his size. The fact that he was towering over six feet tall and built like a brick house of muscle did set off some alarms when he first approached you. But when he chuckled and made a joke about a teddy bear that had fallen out of one of your boxes, saying how ‘the poor little guy’ had fallen onto the floor, you knew instantly that Hank and that bear weren’t that different. They were both soft and cuddly and full of fluff on the inside. 

It made you feel even safer when his girlfriend - a beautiful blonde woman came along - introducing herself to you with a gleaming smile. It was nice to know that someone with a calming presence like her would also be living across the hall from you. She helped to carry some of your boxes, even though you insisted that neither of them had to. All the while, Dawn nagged Hank, warning him that a previous ‘sports injury’ was going to flare up if he kept straining himself. 

He didn’t listen. And when he tried to lug one of your particularly hefty boxes full of books up the stairs, he popped a disc in his back and you felt so bad when he bent over groaning in pain. It made you feel incredibly guilty, even though Dawn insisted that it was his own fault. 

Dawn - who was surprisingly strong for her petite stature - helped you carry the rest of the boxes and even insisted on helping you unpack some of them while Hank sat with a bag of frozen peas on his back. The new friendship was truly cemented when you made them dinner the next day and brought it over to their place. You figured it was the least you could do after all the kindness they had shown you. 

You felt so guilty because Hank had injured his back trying to help you and you wanted to do something to make up for it. But you had no idea that the injury had very little to do with the box of books, and a lot more to do with the fact that he had been kicked in the back by a drug dealer the night before. But that side of their life wasn’t something that Hank and Dawn were too eager to tell you about. 

On the outside, they saw you as something - someone, so young and sweet, naive and unaware of the dangers constantly surrounding you. Because of the work they did as Hawk and Dove, they saw all those ugly things in the world - gun runners, rapists, drug dealers. Things they needed to protect you from that they never wanted you to know about. You were pure and sweet, something they were eager to protect. 

It was probably why they grew so incredibly close to you so quickly - that sense of protectiveness. You were only twenty three, in this brand new city all by yourself, starting out a new job with predatory eyes everywhere, unsavory people eager to take advantage of you. And they were those sacred birds eyes above, those friendly people across the hall - the only people around who truly wanted the best for you. The only people who truly wanted to protect you. 

It was probably why you fell for both of them so easily. 

You could feel that protective blanket they put around you, even unconsciously, and you loved it. 

You fell for Dawn’s incredibly sweet nature. With her helping you and giving you tips on everything from home decoration to make-up and self care. She made you feel pretty, and doted on, and always complimented you and praised you just to see you smile. 

You fell for Hank’s subtle masculinity, and those vulnerable moments he shared with you. He made you feel safe and cared for without constantly asking to be thanked for it. 

You loved him being there for you to help out with small home repairs - being there to fix your sink or help you hang curtains at a moment’s notice and wanting nothing more as payment than a cold beer from the fridge or a slice of pizza. There were even times when he didn’t mind you squealing across the hall to come and kill a spider you saw in your apartment. You didn’t know it, but he liked the feeling of saving you, he liked the joy it brought to your face when he could quietly declare ‘there, all better’. 

And Dawn wasn’t much better. She liked to be your rescuer in other subtle ways. If you got a stain on your favorite blouse and she could return it to you in seemingly brand new condition, the way your face lit up put the sun to shame in her mind. She often knocked on your door with coffee in the morning, claiming that it was just easier because their coffee pot made more than enough for three. 

You came over in the evenings to watch TV with them because Dawn had gotten you into cheesy shows like the Bachelor. And she often tricked you into watching ‘just one more episode’ until it was into the late hours and you fell asleep on the couch. She would never tell you that it was motivated by the simple desire to enjoy your peaceful, sweet face as you slept before covering you up with a blanket and retiring off to bed. 

You would never tell her how much you enjoyed those nights either. 

Whenever you woke up there in the morning, you would profusely apologize. You would tell them both how sorry you were for falling asleep there and taking up too much space, for being a bother. But Dawn and Hank would never accept it. They loved having you over and truthfully - you always felt sleepy and peaceful in their presence because you felt so safe with them. 

This became particularly evident one night when you came home from a date bawling. You had big black streaks of mascara running down your face when you knocked on their door. It hadn’t even occurred to turn in the direction of your own apartment. The moment they saw you in such disarray, their hearts dropped with worry. Dawn began cooing sweet comfort as she took you into her arms; Hank clenched his fist so hard with feral rage toward whoever had made you upset that he nearly crushed the TV remote in his hand. 

You had made the mistake of finally accepting a nagging invitation from someone at work who had asked you out over and over again. You thought it would be harmless, and at the very least, it would get the guy off your back once he saw that the two of you had no real chemistry in practice. Once the date was over, you had let him kiss you. The horrid, entitled man had groped you. He had ignored your disgust and your attempts to push him off you. He even tried to further assault you - the only deterrent toward him had been a harsh slap you delivered that put him in shock long enough for you to walk away. 

You sobbed as you delivered the story. Hank and Dawn exchanged a cold look above your head as Dawn sat beside you on the couch, holding your hand and rubbing your back in a comforting way while Hank prepared you a calming cup of tea. It was a look that only said one thing: that guy was going to be paid a visit from Hawk and Dove. They stayed with you for the night - ate some ice cream with you, cuddled up with you on the couch watching shitty reality TV while Hank assured you that ‘you’d never have to see that asshole again’. (Of course, you had no idea what he was planning on doing to deliver you that assurance). 

The next night, while you were in your apartment, working on some project for work on your laptop, they went out and found the guy. Dawn had found him through your social media and yes, someone like him was way too cocky to turn off his geotags. Hank held him down and Dawn showed him your picture, making sure that he knew to stay away from you - that hurting you was the reason for his broken kneecaps. 

When you went to work on Monday, he had called in sick because he had some pretty grievous injuries. The working story was that he had been hit by a car. 

When you told this to Dawn and Hank, Dawn gave you a small grin and Hank grunted ‘shame’ in the most utterly sarcastic way. You thought their reaction was strange. It caused you to develop the utmost suspicion that they had something to do with it, but of course, you couldn’t prove it. And it only deepened your feelings for them in the most beautifully strange way. 

From that point on, they ensured that you always had them on call. They told you over and over again that if you ever needed a safe escort home, no matter what time, if you needed to feel safe at any time of day, no matter what, you could call either of them. (And on top of that, you didn’t know that Hawk and Dove checked in on you often if you were out on the town while they were out on patrol.) 

It wasn’t long before you realized that no one else would be right for you. No one else outside of those two amazing, heroic, protective, kind souls - would ever make you feel the same way they did. And you definitely had to do something about it. 

… 

Hank wasn’t surprised when he came home that day and you were in his kitchen. 

You practically lived at their place now, and he didn’t mind it. 

You were someone he had come to like a lot - even if he probably liked you a bit too much. You were sweet, kind, cute. You were incredibly gorgeous. He wasn’t exactly dealing well with the growing temptation he had surrounding you. Especially considering that he was pretty much a decade older than you and he sometimes felt like a creep when his eyes lingered too long on you. But he found that a lot of the time, he couldn’t help it if you bent over in front of him - wearing those tiny little pajama shorts or those short skirts. Sometimes you even forgot to wear bottoms under a long sleep shirt if he caught you as you were getting ready for bed. 

Dawn assured him that his attractions weren’t wrong, that it was only natural for him to want someone as perfect as you. Especially because she shared all of those attractions - she had eyes, after all. And if she had a passing thought that she might like women before meeting you, it was a deep confirmation inside of her after all the hours she had spent fantasizing about making you cum. 

Dawn was firm in her convictions about you - how you belonged right between her and Hank. She was just trying to get the more hesitant Hank on board. 

She knew that the age difference was the biggest thing that made him worry, but she told him over and over again that it’s not like you were some jailbait, naive little thing, as much as you sometimes acted like it. Dawn saw the way you looked at him, and she knew what kind of desires you likely held that they simply needed to help you unlock. 

But Hank often warred with the instinct to protect you from all corruption and harm versus the deep underlying hunger to have you beneath him, being the one to corrupt you himself. And if it wasn’t for that guilt, for his fucked up issues - Dawn believed that they would have invited you into bed by now. But Hank hadn’t grown completely comfortable with the idea yet and she wanted to take it slow. 

When Hank walked over to the kitchen counter and heaved the bags of groceries up onto the center of it, he realized what was truly peculiar about the scene as he looked at you and Dawn, sitting at the kitchen table. 

Dawn with a half-finished glass of wine? That was normal. You holding a half-peeled banana that appeared to be half-soggy and glossy with spit? A bit strange. 

The laptop sitting in the middle of the table’s surface, paused on a graphic frame of a woman with her overly plumped glossed lips around a man’s veiny hard cock? Not so normal. And it definitely informed the presence of the banana in this scene. 

If Hank wasn’t mistaken - it looked like Dawn had been teaching you how to give a blowjob using a banana. It was something that caused a harsh electric lust to shoot through Hank. Oddly enough, it only seemed like a natural extension of the nights she spent teaching you how to do your own manicures because it was cheaper and the way showed you how to get the most out of a tube of lipstick by sticking a q-tip into the bottom. It was oddly adorable to see the two of you bonding like this, and insanely hot at the same time. Like a fantasy out of a porno that Hank definitely had not been expecting to walk right into. 

The entire scene had blood flowing toward Hank’s cock, and he was glad that the dining table that the two of you were sitting at was on the other side of the kitchen island. It gave him something to conceal the slight hardness in his jeans that he was hoping he could mentally will down. He didn’t want to scare you or creep you out by having an obvious boner. 

At the sound of the bags slamming onto the counter, you whipped your head back to look at Hank. Your face instantly hardened with embarrassment, as though you had been caught. You reached out and slammed the lid of the laptop closed, clearly wishing that Hank hadn’t had a chance to see it. The wide eyes and slightly pouted lip you gave him were too adorable. It was like you were waiting for him to tell you it was okay or ready to run if he said that he was disgusted with you, eagerly seeking his approval. 

And of course, he wanted nothing more than to give you that approval. 

“I’m not gonna laugh, sweetheart.” He told you, suppressing a nervous chuckle. 

“It’s alright, honey.” Dawn told you with a giggle, taking another sip of her wine. “It’s not like he hasn’t seen porn before.” 

“It’s fine. I’ve seen a lot worse in my time.” He confirmed this with a nod. There were probably things in his search history that would make you gag. 

“You definitely got me curious, though,” He added with a chuckle, speaking about it as though he hadn’t figured it out already. 

You went uncharacteristically silent, clearly shy now that the idea of talking about sex was present in the room. Your mouth gaped open and closed like a fish struggling on dry land, and your eyes kept flickering back to Hank, clearly still looking for that approval. He felt his cock swelling with even more blood against his will. 

Dawn stepped in to explain when she saw you struggling. 

“Y/N asked me to help her out because she’s got a hot date tomorrow night.” She told Hank, turning completely in her seat to face him. “She said she doesn’t have a lot of experience pleasing a man.” 

Dawn gave Hank a very pointed look. In that kind of silent communication that only two vigilante partners could have, two people who always needed to have each other’s backs in the most important moments - he instantly understood what she meant. 

Neither of them wanted you to go out on another date. They had simply been hoping that you would give up after that last disaster with the entitled bastard. Realistically, they knew that Hawk and Dove couldn’t ‘keep an eye’ on you through all of your romantic ventures. So this was obviously Dawn’s new plan. Make things friendly - distract you. She wanted to show you that everything you ever needed or wanted was right across the hall. She wanted you to see that you didn’t need to go on a dozen dates with a dozen different grabby assholes when two of the kindest people you would ever meet were right in front of you. 

Hank could easily play along. 

“I don’t think you’re gonna learn much suckin’ on bananas, doll.” Hank told you with a snort. “You wanna test drive the real thing?” 

He tried his hardest to sound casual, as though he had no personal interest in you ‘testing out’ your skills on him. As though it wasn’t a perfect fantasy come to life before his very eyes. 

You let out a shuddering breath as his words churned through your mind. 

“You don’t - you don’t mean-?” You stuttered. 

Your eyes flickered from Dawn, to Hank, and then down his body toward where the counter was blocking him at the waist. As though you were willing yourself to see right through the object and suddenly had the ability to inspect what was in his pants - wondering if that part of him would be just as intimidating as the rest of his size. 

The way you bit your lip, slightly shy and obviously somewhat lustful, had Hank throbbing with full hardness. 

Dawn downed the rest of her wine before she answered. 

“Only if you want to.” She told you, shrugging casually herself, as though it were a simple conversation about what the three of you should have for dinner. She wanted to assure you that they would absolutely respect your consent. “I’m sure that practicing on a man like him will have you ready for whatever little guys come your way.” 

Hank tried not to let his ego swell with pride at the comment. 

… 

That was how you ended up in your current predicament - on your knees for them. 

You were kneeling in front of their living room couch, with a couple of Dawn’s precious decorative pillows helping to cushion your knees from the hardness of the floor. Because in her mind, a sweet girl like you shouldn’t have to hurt yourself while doing this. 

You had your hands spread out on the muscled thickness of Hank’s denim clad thighs, with his impressively monstrous cock - most definitely proportional to the rest of his massive frame - pulled out through the zipper. You had your jaw stretched wide, lovingly struggling to accommodate it while Dawn guided your pace with a hand in your hair. All the while, she gave you gentle, sweet encouragement in her harmonious voice. 

“Such a good girl for us.” Dawn said gently. “Make sure you keep your tongue flat. You’re doing so good, sweetie.” 

The praise sent hot jolts right between your thighs. 

You almost felt small in the presence of their looming figures, with Dawn’s careful eyes staring down at you and the sheer size of Hank’s muscled form. Especially because Hank’s shoulders were spread even wider than usual. His hoodie and shirt shed off because the entire situation was just too hot for him to comprehend, causing him to sweat already (a musk you couldn’t deny made him even more attractive to you). Both his arms stretched wide over the back of the couch as he gripped at the object with his large hands, making the wood of the frame weep with just how hard he was gripping it. He was heavily resisting the urge to reach down and grab your head and simply start skull fucking you. 

Dawn had given him strict instructions not to. It was one of the only reasons she was even letting this happen. She knew that Hank could get carried away sometimes and forget his own strength. It was something she was used to, and she had more than enough strength and skill that his roughness was never a manhandling of her - it was a heated competition. Dawn was afraid that (while you had voiced that you definitely weren’t a virgin) you were too fragile and inexperienced to handle all of Hank’s desires right out of the gate, lest he accidentally scare you away. So she had to censor him a bit to help you explore your own desires in a safe way. 

“You don’t have to take it all the way down, honey, I know he’s big.” Dawn chuckled. 

You moaned in acknowledgement of this. Hank let out a choked-off sound, both at the vibrations from your mouth at Dawn’s words. 

“But make sure you swallow - it’s like a suction, it makes it better for him,” She quickly added on. 

You followed the instructions, causing a sharp pulse through Hank’s whole body as he felt the suctioning of your mouth against his cock. It truly tested his self control as he deeper resisted the urge to grab you by the hair and fuck your mouth. 

It was something that left him struggling - his whole body rapt with pleasure, yet every muscle practically seized and shaking as he struggled to hold back. He was nearly insane, spread out against the couch as he held onto the plush frame for dear life. With Dawn contently sitting beside him, gently guiding your tender, warm mouth up and down on the hard thickness of his cock.

The feeling of your gorgeous mouth tore harsh rippling moans from his chest, bucking breaths from his nostrils that made him sound like a raging bull. It had him biting his lips in an effort not to urge you on or say terribly filthy things that he thought might scare you or cast a true light onto his perversions. He had swallowed down the words ‘perfect slut’ and ‘suck my balls’ several times now. 

Especially with the feeling of spit flowing from your mouth and down his shaft, dripping wet and warm over his balls. It only made him imagine what your sweet, soft tongue would feel like worshiping over his sack and sucking his balls into your mouth while he got to see his overwhelmingly large cock flat against your face, making your head look so tiny by comparison. 

The pace Dawn had set was practically killing him. Causing a slow burn in his gut, his orgasm coming on epically slow and teasing. He knew that if he didn’t cum soon, he was going to say something drastically filthy that he was going to regret. 

He certainly didn’t expect your filthy mouth to act up first. 

Dawn pulled you back, giving you a moment to get some air. This left Hank’s cock bobbing in midair as he throbbed with the need for release, a large string of spit dangling from the bright red head to your swollen lips as you sat back on your haunches, enjoying the cushioning Dawn had so graciously given you. She petted a sweet, gentle touch down the side of your face, and was about to ask if you needed a drink of water before you spoke up, shell-shocking both of their systems with your next words. 

“How am I doing, Daddy?” You asked, your throat absolutely raw from the fact that his cock had accidentally bumped against it. 

You sounded so fucked out and so utterly filthy as you looked up at them from down on your knees - your eyes slightly glassy with tears and a gloss of spit ready to drip down your chin. 

Dawn looked at Hank with her jaw dropped in shock, her cunt throbbing from your words, expectantly waiting for his reaction. 

Neither you nor Dawn were prepared when Hank let out a quiet ‘jesus’, and after a moment of recovering from the shock, he simply said: 

“C’mere, ya little brat,” 

And then he reached out, grabbed you by the back of the hair, and shoved you back toward his cock with intense force. 

You had finally broken his willpower. 

He began shoving you down onto his cock with force, fucking your face with a tight grip on your hair - essentially using your mouth like a fleshlight for his pleasure. He was only slightly canting his hips up off the couch to meet the touch of your swollen lips and your warm, velvety mouth, most of the effort put into moving you around him. It was something that had you moaning wildly around him, knowing that he was finally using you for his own pleasure instead of holding back. 

Though Dawn was wrought with pleasure at the sight, she couldn’t help but let out a scolding ‘Hank!’ as she reached out to grab his arm, attempting to stop him. Your lids had fallen shut in what seemed to be a haze of pleasure and your moaning was obvious, but she still held trepidation because he hadn’t explicitly asked you first. And because of the gags that emanated from your throat as the head of his large cock roughly jostled you - something that only served to turn Hank on more. 

“What?” Hank snapped at her, not stopping his movements even as Dawn dug her nails into his wrist. “She likes it.” 

You moaned even louder in agreement, and Dawn frowned. 

“Let her tell me that herself.” Dawn ordered firmly. 

‘Let me fucking cum.’ Hank wanted to argue. 

But he easily understood his girlfriend’s hesitation - so he pulled you off his cock with a noisy, wet pop. You looked more fucked out than ever, your eyes now ripe with tears, a thick layer of spit gathered on your chin and ready to drip down your neck, your expression absolutely hazy with pleasure. 

“I like it.” You sniffled, a pleasured whine evident in your tone. “I love it. I want you to use me. Both of you.” 

That was the moment it truly struck Dawn. There was no guy - there was no date. 

When you had come nervously fluttering across the hall, fidgeting with the strings of your hoodie and shyly looking at the ground when you told her you were worried about what might happen if your date wanted to go to ‘second base’ - you had been lying. It had all been a ploy to get right where you were. On your knees in front of them. 

She had a sneaking suspicion that this wasn’t even your first blowjob. You had been taking someone the size of Hank far too well for it to be your first. 

Dawn grinned at you. 

“Naughty girl,” She sighed. 

She reached out and ran her thumb through that pool of spit on your chin, then shoved the digit inside your mouth, forcefully pushing down on your tongue until you gagged again. It was something that made Hank moan beside her. 

“You lied to us.” Dawn tutted her tongue, shaking her head disapprovingly. “You wanted this all along, didn’t you?” 

You nodded furiously while sucking on her thumb, and moaned in affirmation. 

“Get up.” Dawn demanded sharply. 

You looked between the two of them, and then Hank let out a sigh, hesitantly letting go of his grip on your hair. He knew that it was useless to argue with Dawn. 

She took her hand away from your lips, and then repeated herself. 

“Go on, stand up.” She told you, an air of pure dominance coming off her that you couldn’t help but bow to. (Well in this case, stand for.) 

You rose up on shaking legs, and waited for whatever instruction she would give you next. You wanted to show that you were compliant, that you would be good for them. 

“Take off your pants.” Dawn told you. 

You eagerly rushed to comply, ripping down the zipper of your jeans to get them off your hips and kicking them off your ankles. When you moved to rip off the waistband of your panties, Dawn stopped you. 

“Leave those.” She said, her voice just as commanding and firm. 

You felt both sets of their eyes now fixated on the spot between your legs as you stood there in your underwear, socks, and a thin tee shirt. The panties weren’t anything special, because honestly, you hadn’t been expecting this to lead to sex. Just a plain cotton white pair that stuck to your cunt in a very telling way. The fabric absolutely seeped with a wetness that you had been trying to ignore as you heavily enjoyed the feeling of Hank’s heavy cock on your tongue. Now, as the cool air of the room brushed against that wetness, you found yourself unconsciously clenching your thighs, trying to seek some kind of relief against your throbbing pussy. 

“See,” Hank said, motioning toward you - toward your visibly wet panties. “The little brat obviously likes it.” 

The nickname coming from him made your cunt clench so hard that it was almost painful. You let out a whimper from deep within your chest and Hank held back laughter. Dawn smirked. 

Dawn nodded in acknowledgement of what Hank had said - quite obviously, you did enjoy being choked on his cock and you likely enjoyed being bossed around too. It was the discovery of something beautiful. 

Then, she moved a foot across the floor, kicking away the cushions she had set down for you. 

“Lying whores don’t get cushions.” She said in response to your confused look. “Back down on your knees,”  

You eagerly rushed back into your position between Hank’s thighs. You really didn’t mind the hardness of the floor against your knees or the way the area rug scuffed your skin. It would only be a good reminder for later that all of this had been more than a dream. 

Dawn harshly dug her nails into the back of your scalp. You were expecting her to shove you toward Hank’s cock once again, but instead, she crooked your neck back in a rather painful way, drawing your attention toward her face. And then, she scooted forward slightly on the couch, and draped her thigh over the thickness of Hank’s calf, bracketing her leg with his and shoving her leg right between yours. You let out a pathetic moan as you felt the stiffness of her lower leg shoved right up against the tenderness of your neglected cunt. 

“The only way you’re gonna get off tonight is against my leg.” She explained to you, her voice still velvety sweet, yet deadly authoritative. “Understood?” 

You nodded vigorously, and she tugged harshly on your hair. 

“Use your words, pretty girl.” She scolded you. 

“I understand.” You whimpered. 

You began canting your hips toward her, rubbing your pussy against the firmness of her leg. The feeling sent pleasurable sparks through your gut, and you couldn’t help the loud moan that you let out - something that easily made Dawn smile. 

“Feelin’ mean today, aren’t ya?” Hank snorted, obviously believing this to be a harsh punishment. 

“You’re lucky that I’m letting her cum at all.” Dawn commented.

It became immediately obvious to you which one of them was the more lenient one. (You would be taking advantage of that in the future.) 

Dawn then shoved your head back toward Hank’s throbbing cock. You eagerly opened your mouth, capturing the bulbous head between your lips and letting her shove you down until you gagged on him. 

“Now make Daddy cum.” She told you. 

“Jesus christ.” Hank swore. “You better not start with that shit too,” He told Dawn offhandedly. Obviously he hated how much he loved Dawn calling him that name. 

She leaned over to him and pressed her lips right up against his ear. 

“Don’t even pretend you hate it.”

[genericpuff]

I'm not sure if you've answered this question before but what were some of the things that made you interested in Lore Olympus in the past and at what point did you lose interest?

I adored the art in the beginning, and just like, the really warm-feeling romance that just had me feeling so giddy reading it. There were some red flags in the beginning like the age gap, but I kinda fell for the same mindset of "well they're gods so what does it matter" (obviously I can't in good faith use that argument anymore because if the age gap didn't matter then it either wouldn't exist or wouldn't be brought up in the first place lmao but it took me a while to realize that).

Now, to be fair, LO was also one of my first introductions to webtoons as a format, prior to that I had read mostly manga and left-to-right indie webcomics (i.e. comics that were hosted on their own site) and I was still in the early years of my own development as a writer and artist (I still feel like I'm early in that development tbh) so of course there were undoubtedly a lot of obvious flaws that went over my head (and I was younger and inexperienced so I wasn't as critical of what media I was watching / reading as I am now) but that's been half the fun of catching them now - it's given me a lot more perspective and helped me hone my own skills in my writing by analyzing what's wrong with LO and brainstorming on how those problems can be avoided.

But then there was the Act of Wrath plotline and I was completely sold on it being gold. Anyone who's read my original work knows how much of a SUCKER I am for "dark alter ego" plotlines, I eat that shit up like junk food. But what I like about the dark alter ego tropes is when they're used to explore the subconscious, question one's morals and true identity, etc. That was what I was hoping for and expecting with the AoW plotline in LO - that her "dark self" was gonna be a reflection of how she felt "held back" by her circumstances in the Mortal Realm, and her wrath being something she could use for retribution (in a "do no harm but take no shit" kinda way). Especially with how naive and innocent she was in the beginning, I loved the idea of her slowly coming to terms with her "darker" side and learning not to suppress her emotions until they had nowhere else to go and exploded (which was how I interpreted the AoW).

So when it didn't do that, or even explore an ounce of nuance regarding her relationship with her wrath, I was very disappointed to say the least. When Eris was revealed to be the one who "blessed" her with wrath, that was when the rose colored glasses started to fall off and I realized "wait, does Rachel not have an actual plan for this whole Kore vs. Persephone thing???" And now her wrath is literally just there to... give her the power to bully people?? It just feels so disheartening to see such potential squandered.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not gonna chastise a story if it doesn't go exactly where I want it to go, there would be no fun in that anyways (and that's what fanfiction is for lmao). But when a story is leaving very interesting but connectable breadcrumbs that are VERY clearly leading you somewhere and then just... doesn't, that's when it's disappointing and unsatisfying. LO feels like a "creator vs. the reader" story in the worst way possible, where it's constantly leaving breadcrumbs, getting pissed when the audience "figures it out", so then it overcorrects and tries to "subvert" itself to keep the readers "on their toes"... but the problem is that all it really does is punish the readers for paying attention and investing themselves in the story by giving them a worse story. It's like Rachel's getting mad at people for figuring out a story that she's writing and hinting towards.

And this has been going on for YEARS now, it's like a Shepard tone where it sounds like it keeps getting higher and higher in pitch but then doesn't actually resolve so your brain is just scrambling trying to figure out what in the world it could be "building up to".

There's nothing. It's not building up to anything. It's just constantly putting down new plot threads that are slightly altered versions of previous plot threads and expecting you to keep following along while it makes a mess of itself. It feels like you're going somewhere but you're actually still just running in place. It's just Rachel never learning how to progress past the middle school writing level of "and then this happened and then this happened and then this happened". Not only is it disorganized writing, but it's just... it's so boring. Nothing's exciting or interesting anymore when it keeps distracting itself with shiny new plotlines and characters that never get resolved.

It's like when you were a kid and thought "man , when I grow up, I'm gonna eat nothing but chocolate cake and ice cream every day forever!" and then you get older and you realize you were being silly because eating nothing but chocolate cake and ice cream every day 1.) isn't good for you and doesn't feel good, and 2.) the appeal and novelty of it wears off if you can have it any time you want, it doesn't feel as special anymore as it did when you were a kid and having those things was a treat.

To compare this back to LO, none of its "reveals" feel like treats anymore, they feel like just another half-assed attempt to keep people interested. It's clickbait.

And don't get me wrong, you CAN totally subvert the breadcrumbs you put down for your audience and go in a completely different direction than where the audience was expecting, but it takes a shitload of skill and thought to do it well. Attack on Titan is one of the best recent examples of a story appearing to completely throw out its original script halfway through, only for that script to actually still be relevant in a very complex and thought out way. Especially when there ARE hints towards the big "twist" that make you go back and rewatch it and realize "WAIT, THEY'VE BEEN GIVING US THE ANSWERS ALL THIS TIME?!?!"

(it would be TWO MORE FUCKING SEASONS before this ending would make sense, that's fucking GENIUS foreshadowing and in the CREDITS SEQUENCE LIKE ?? IT'S SO BLINK AND YOU'LL MISS IT HOLY SHIT-)

Evidently Rachel does not have that skill and is not willing to put in that thought; maybe she could some day, but I don't think she's learning it on the job as well as she thinks she is.

And it's disappointing as fuck because it could have been so much better than this. Rachel is literally the only one getting in her own way of LO being something truly great.

[sunshine-jesse]

It wasn't okay.

Someone gave me the idea to write an analysis in the form of a fanfiction, so this is what I coughed up.

I haven't written a fanfiction in 10 years, so bear with me. There is also no smut here; sorry to disappoint. Maybe once I become more confident in my fanfic writing lmao

Ashley almost thought it'd be okay.

"Yeah, I'm dating Julia now."

Ashley thought she'd be able to handle it. But she knew better. She's always known better. And Andrew did, too. It's why he took so long to tell her. She's never been able to keep her fucking mouth shut, but why should she? He's the one who lets her down. He's the one who tries to distance himself from her! He tries and he tries and he tries but he fails, every time.

But now, she's not so sure.

"WE HAD AN AGREEMENT, ANDREW!"

Her words seem to fall on deaf ears, but his gaze never diverts from her eyes. She can see it plainly in his face- his anger, his exasperation, his frustration. She's always been so good at reading him, and now is no different.

"So why? Why do you keep doing this?! Why do you keep trying to distance yourself from me?! Am I not good enough?"

"Ashley…"

"I've always been the only one you can rely on, Andrew! The only one you can talk to! So why?! Why do you keep trying to find other people?! And why Julia, of all people?! Why her?!"

"Ashley."

"What is she giving you that I can't?! Why can't you just be happy with me?!"

"Ashley!"

"No, Andrew! Your excuses aren't good enough! Nothing I do is ever enough! You always want MORE!"

Ah, how close she was to being right, yet how distant she was from the reason.

He has to be dating her out of pity, right? Ever since __ died, Julia hasn't been able to keep that knife away from her arm. She wears arm-warmers now to hide them, but Ashley knows better. Everyone does. And maybe now, Andrew is trying to make it right.

"It's out of pity, isn't it? You feel guilty over what happened to that bitch, and-"

Andrew closes the gap between the two of them, his gaze growing significantly more dire. A lump appears in Ashley's throat. She doesn't know what it's from, and can't process just how much danger she's really in. She could read Andy just fine, but the Andrew that was starting to surface was a different story entirely. But Andrew stays his hand and walks away, never once breaking eye contact with her until he walks out of the door.

Ashley is left alone, confused and afraid. She thinks the fear is from the thought of Andrew leaving her for good, but it's not. All she knows is that she is afraid of getting hurt again, no matter what kind of hurt it is. It's all the same to her. But this fear doesn't get any better over time; it gets worse. As Andrew is out, the sinking feeling in Ashley's gut and the cold grasp she feels over her heart grows more and more profound. Her breathing grows labored. He's going to leave her for good, isn't he? No matter how much she breathes, she never feels satisfied. Every thought spurs her to gasp for more air:

Why is he doing this? Why is he dating her? Why can't she calm down? Why did he still seek comfort from Ashley in the dead of night this past week, despite having been dating Julia for that long? Why can't she calm down? Is there something Julia can do that Ashley can't? Why can't she calm down? Is it the fact that Julia can fuck him but Ashley can't? Why can't she calm down? Is it him trying to distance himself? Why can't she calm down? Is it him trying to be normal is it him trying to forget is it him trying to make up for Nina or is it him-

"WHY CAN'T I FUCKING BREATHE???"

The icy cold grip on her heart turns into a sharp pain in her chest, a stake being driven right through it. What little breath she had left was stolen from Ashley, her hands growing numb.

Her course of action becomes clear:

She has to break them apart. She HAS to.

Ashley runs towards the phone and goes to dial the number. If Julia knew the truth about Nina, if she knew what they did, there's no way she'd still like Andrew. There's no way they'd still be together. She'd have to break up with him, and then Andrew and Ashley would be stuck together forever. She goes to dial the number.

But she freezes.

She feels her throat close up, words unable to escape her mouth. She agreed to never speak of it to anyone else ever again, and that oath was being enforced. But by whom? Why did she feel like she was being watched? Her parents were gone, and so was Andrew. So who was watching her? Why were they watching her?

With every number she dialed, she feels weaker and weaker. She feels like she's going to pass out. And when she finally calls…

"J-Julia! I need to tell…-"

…luckily, they were still home. Every word Ashley spoke was punctuated by a desperate gasp of air. And at the last moment, rather than revealing the truth, she changes her mind. She needs her Andy back. But she needs to get him back without breaking her end of the agreement. After all, that's the least she could do, isn't it?

The least Ashley could do was stay committed. That's all she has going for her. Her love, her dedication, her commitment. If she couldn't at least offer that, does she even deserve Andrew, no matter how much she feels she needs him?

She wouldn't, because that's all she thought she could offer him: Herself. But now, she was starting to wonder whether even that was enough.

"Andy. I think-… I'm having…"

She forces out her last few words…

"…a heart attack."

Before collapsing on the ground, a loud THUMP echoing on the other side of the phone.

It doesn't take long for her beloved Andy to come home after that. He looks terrified, but Ashley smiles, and grabs the bump on her head.

"Took you long enough, asshole."

Andy was less than pleased, but at least she knows that he still cared for her. It calms her down so quickly and abruptly that it looks like she was faking it. She even thought she might've been. But as long as her Andy was back, everything was okay. As long as she knew she could do something for him, everything was fine.

Andrew still slept in Ashley's bed that night, despite what happened. He still sought her comfort, no matter what. Julia wasn't good enough for him. She'd never be good enough. And yet as long as she still existed, Ashley would forever feel herself growing distant from Andy. Andy was lying to himself. He had to have been. There's no way he could want to be away from Ashley while still seeking so much from her, right? Julia had to be dealt with, she had to be taken out of the picture. It didn't much matter how. And so, the next morning, when Andy is away, she picks up the phone, dials Julia's number, and-…

… …

It feels like it's been so long since then.

So distant from the way things are now, that you feel like an entirely different person; like you're watching a performance.

When the dream ends, you shoot up in panic. You look down to your side, and see Andrew, sleeping. You look upon his back, and see your scratch marks still there, and you can't help but smirk. Ah, you really got into it, didn't you? You never saw yourself as that kind of person, but it makes sense, now that you're so much less afraid of losing him.

You know you're awake now, and in a time and place where things are much better, and yet, some of your past still lingers. You can't help but still feel afraid that he'll leave, just like everyone else has. And worse, you fear it'll be your fault. But now everyone is finally honest with themselves and what they want. Now things can finally heal. Now things can finally get better.

Now you can finally dream. Now you can finally hate what you see.

Now you are finally the one who needs to be held at night.

[decepti-thots]

hello !! wish you a good day !

if you don't mind, I would like to know your thoughts about ratchet's and drift's age. I'm feeling hyperfixated on age in general, but these two keep me extremely confused. I like the concept that drift is waaaay younger than ratchet, but does it just come from fanfiction ? some places tell me that they're the same age, and some say that drift is actually elder than ratchet ! so, what do you have to say about this ? thank you ((:

That is indeed a fanon idea, and one that doesn't really work with what we know of canon! We don't have specifics on their ages in relation to each other, but we know that Drift and Ratchet were contemporaries, because of the fact that they ran into each other well before the war, with both of them clearly having been around for a while already. While there's no reason we couldn't assume, with what we know, that Ratchet is overall older- there's not really a way to make him much older relatively speaking. He's clearly not like, Cyclonus' contemporary, or anything like that, which would probably be what would be needed for him and Drift to have a meaningful gap in age or experience.

I do seem to recall there being confirmation Drift is older that Megatron in the canon- so yeah, he's not super young.

I believe the idea that Drift is actually the older of the two is something Roberts tweeted when asked, IIRC. He seemed to think there was something in MTMTE/LL itself which did make this canon (rather than word-of-god) but I don't believe anyone could ever work out what he seemed to be referring to? Regardless, if you see people say that Drift is older, they're probably referring to this word-of-god statement. (Unless there's something which proves Ratchet is not older than Megatron..? God, I can't keep this shit straight, they're all vaguely contemporaries, it doesn't matter as much given how long they live who is a few hundred years older, lmao.)

As to why fanon casually assumed Drift was so much younger for ages... combo of 'Ratchet calls Drift 'kid' as a nickname' (which is probably Ratchet acting creakier than he really is as usual and being mildly condescending, lmao) and 'fandom tropes just Assume ships with their dynamic are old guy/young guy' stuff.

EDIT: aha! I misremembered slightly; got myself mixed up. The word of god confirmation was for Drift and Megatron, apologies anon. Here's the thread:

I am... not sure if there is an actual way to 100% infer this from the text tbh, I'm not quite sure what he means now I think about it, but it's in line with everything else we see so I'm not inclined to quibble. Drift's older than Megs and Rodimus (who are of course around of an age with each other, as per EC), which I think probably just puts him around Ratchet's contemporary if you look at the other context clues there. No big difference of note, either way.

[bi-badass-geek]

"love will never leave us" by @5ivebyfive

Started as piece for March Madness prompt post and here we are, make sure to go read over there to for something extra but i won't spoil the surprise : (AO3)