#watch me go and hand write my works and scan them into a doc and paste it on AO3 for harder transcription LOL

[thelovelybitten]

just wanted to let all my homies in the stendynation know that all of my fanfictions on AO3 are now user locked! I didn’t want to do this — I love having my stories be open to the public) but my works getting scraped were high.

Only way to read them now is through an account with AO3, so please sign up when u can !!!

Aka, AI can suck my nuts

AO3 has been scraped, once again.

As of the time of this post, AO3 has been scraped by yet another shady individual looking to make a quick buck off the backs of hardworking hobby writers. This Reddit post here has all the details and the most current information. In short, if your fic URL ends in a number between 1 and 63,200,000 (inclusive), AND is not archive locked, your fic has been scraped and added to this database.

I have been trying to hold off on archive locking my fics for as long as possible, and I've managed to get by unscathed up to now. Unfortunately, my luck has run out and I am archive locking all of my current and future stories. I'm sorry to my lovelies who read and comment without an account; I love you all. But I have to do what is best for me and my work. Thank you for your understanding.

[fishyvamp]

I think Tarhos, Trapper, Danny, frankly all of the killers really, would come with me to my doctors appoitment and threaten the doctor if they weren't taking my issues seriously, love them for that

This hits close to the chest, doctor's ignoring signs brushing you off. Suddenly your notes include hypochondria, history of severe mental illness, or some other way to discredit you for every cynical half assed doctor who sees your notes. Maybe not every killer, but enough of them for sure and these are violent and passionate killers. If you are their world, oh boy the doctor better hope that they only piss the one off who isn't stab happy dump their body in the woods kind of person.

Just for my sanity and so I can live vicariously through my own writing this will take place in a modern!AU though if you want a more period accurate one I'd indulge.

Evan Macmillan, The Trapper, is from one the most influential families in the city. What the fuck do they mean his doll is a lazy and should lose weight?! You're trying everything to get better, but you can barely get out of bed. Your limbs feeling like lead most mornings. He shows up holding your hand as he listens to the doctor adress him and not you. Telling him, not you that it's all about diet.

Evan Macmillan is short tempered, he tries to hard to control it, but the fact that the doctor is talking to him and not you and asking him for the information has him screaming at the doctor as you try to calm him down. The man is seeing red, hating himself for prioritizing the work at the mine instead of your health. If the doctor doesn't agree to at least test Evan will make sure the doc is blacklisted to hell and back, because you don't deserve to live like this without at least answers.

Tarhos Kovács, The Knight, is a veteran, turned mercenary, who enlisted way too young. He's seen too many fall apart from neglect and you are his world. He knows you are trying and he knows you want to get better. Your eyes full of tears whenever you come home a new bottle of pills in a brown paper bag. You hurt all the time, your head hurts all the time. Days on end in bed, you feel bad that with little time he is home is spent with him caring for you. Surely he would want someone less broken.

One too many times this has happens and he's driving to the doctors office leaving you at home just so he can yell at someone. The doctor would be preferred, but he'll settle on an administrator to threaten and scream at. They haven't done any scans ever for you and you've dealt with this longer then you have known him. It hurts him to know that you're being ignored. For some strange reason you get a call saying the doctor wants scans on the book for a more comprehensive look.

"Jed Olsen", The Ghostface, is silent rage kind of guy. You insisted that he didn't need to come. You're still freshly dating only a few months, but he knows your ill and knows you've been ignored Everytime you've asked for help. You're afraid he's going to scream at the doc make a scene and just generally be embarrassing. You know he's angry, he's got that look in his eye that You've only seen when he said he had business to take care of weirdly smelled of bleach the next day. However that didn't happen instead you watch him pull out a thick pocket journal opening it up.

Turns out he's been monitoring you closely and that smart watch he got you was him preparing for this. He starts rattling off any and every unusual thing he's noted and is even willing to give a copy to the doc to go over. Hard to say it's in your head when the details are all written down. The doc says he needs to look over it to figure out what tests he wants to run but there was enough there for him to justify it. "Jed" is just happy to see that look of relief on your face knowing that something might finally happen even if there is no cure at least you're a step closer to finding out what it might be. He also starts taking your vitals more openly now that his secret is out.

Philip Ojomo, The Wraith, has been ignored enough time himself to know who is the right doctor to go to. Someone who will actually listen to you, someone who looks horrified as you explain why you just stopped trying to figure out what is wrong with you. Philip doesn't care how far the two of you have to travel for you to get proper care, he'll take work off to drive hours to get you to a specialist. He doesn't see it as a chore, he loves you and this; this is just him caring for the one he loves more then the air itself. He'll even carry you inside when you inevitably pass out on the drive home.

[purerae]

teehee first ask thing :3c

i work at a movie theater and it sucks, literally the only thing that keeps me going is pretending someone going to see movies just to interact with me. tbh whenever i scan someone ticket and they’re cute, i’ll try to be at their theater whenever the movie end just to tell them “have a nice day!”

do what you'll want with this, i just wanna share my delusions ^^

hihi omg this is so cute, i wrote a little something about it !!

(i wrote this at like four am on a googles doc and didn’t proof read — pls forgive me for the kinda lame writing ;;;)

You’re tired. Extremely tired. If you got a coin for how many times somebody had asked you a stupid question — you’d be able to quit your job by now.

The smell of popcorn and off brand candy lingers in the air; you feel sick to your stomach as you look at the clock. 3 more hours of your shift left, god, you close your eyes for a solid minute — imagining yourself in your nice warm bed away from all the noise, smell and buzzing food machines.

Fortunately, it seems as the flurry amount of people had dispersed after the screenings of the new trending movie had stopped at a certain time. You hum a sigh under your breath, the theater was almost empty, You prayed to whatever was listening to you that a group of teenagers wouldn’t just burst in and charge towards your counter.

You decide to pass off some time by restocking the candy shelves by your desk, grimacing at the overpriced labels when you suddenly hear a small cough.

Looking up, you notice a very familiar customer beaming at you with a big smile. Their eyes light up, and you can't help but change your tired expression to one that matches theirs.

“Hey! How’s your shift going Y/N?” The man smiles, fidgeting with his hands as he eagerly looks at you.

“Good as a shift can get Matteo, how’s your day going? This is the third time you came this week — Must’ really like movies.. new world record huh?”

You respond back, with no malice in your tone, exchanging banter with your favourite customer. He comes so often to the theatre, that you guys are already on first name basis.

Honestly, the only reason he was your favourite customer was because of how how nice and pleasant he was to chat too.

Matteo would arrive with a warm smile, always making a beeline for whichever counter you were working at. You guys would chat about the latest releases, obscure indie films, and laugh over the messiness of children running around.

You’d remember the first time he came into the movies with his friends, his eyes would linger on you every now and again whilst ordering — you never really paid any mind to it.

Matteo raises his eyebrows as you question him. “…Really like movies?” A pause between the two of you as you nod awkwardly, before his eyes widen in realisation.

“Oh yeah— yeah! I love movies hahaha…! Movies are great.. awesome, spectacular, so fun!!” He says laughing, wiping his eyebrow and grinning extremely wide.

Rapidly changing the subject, Matteo places one of his arms on the counter. “The movie you recommended to me two days ago was so funny! I loved it, anything new for me today?”

To be frank, you could not recall what movie you told him to watch, and you doubt you even watched it yourself! However, seeing the gleam in his face — you didn’t have the heart to tell him so.

You shift your head slightly to see behind Matteos head, the small list of movies that were going to play soon. Selecting the most cool sounding one, you look back at him.

“There’s a movie called ‘Argan Gate’ that came out recently in theatre 3?”

His smile becomes even more radiant (which you didn’t know could be possible) as he looks through his bag, “Sounds perfect! I’ll take a ticket!”

Matteo hands you his money, your fingers brushed slightly, The man freezes as he just stares at your hands for a solid few seconds before zoning back in with flushed cheeks.

“…I’ll tell you how the movie was after, see you at your next shift?” He says with a flustered look. You mutter a small okay with a wave as he walks to the movie screening.

You wonder for a second on how he’d know when your next shift is, and why he watches every single thing you recommend him. Pausing as you stare at his back with a narrowed gaze before you shrug your shoulders, going back to restocking the shelves

‘He must just really really love movies.’

[dilanmoodboards]

Hold You Close Tonight (Shawnter)

Paring: Triple H/Shawn Michaels

Summary: After DX fight Legacy at Hell in Cell 2009, Hunter takes care of Shawn.

Tags: mild Hurt/Comfort; Fluff; Domestic Fluff; Established Relationship; Bathing/Washing; Taking Care of Injuries; Concussions

Notes: This kinda got away from me I trully didn't know where this fic was going. But this match just has so much slash potential that I had to write something for it. I also just love damsel in distress Shawn. I've been binge watching Ted Lasso and studying for my IELTS so the text may be sounding a little british. English is not my first language and I'm dyslexic af, so feel free to correct anything. Comments are always welcome.

Word Count: 2,445

It was never easy walking backstage after Hell in a Cell, and no one knew this better than Hunter, but he couldn’t help the feeling of helplessness as he watched Shawn go into the trainer's room with a slight limp in his step and his hand on the back of his head. Hunter himself was actually pretty fresh, the way they had set up the match had ment he spent very little time in the ring. 

Him and Shawn had thought that the idea of leaving one of them locked out of the cell would be an interesting way of innovating the format, especially considering that the PPV was going to have three Hell In A Cell matches. But now as he walked back to the locker room with the image of Shawn helplessly grasping for him from inside the cell as Rhodes and DiBiase taunted him fresh in his memory, he couldn’t help but feel like that had been one of the worst ideas they ever had.

Hunter decided to go to his locker room and shower while Shawn was in the trainers, he knew very well that the blonde hated when Hunter fussed over him. He also wanted to go back to the hotel as early as possible. Once he finished and got out of the showers, he thought it was strange that Shawn wasn’t back yet, fixing up both of their bags Hunter went to the trainers, deciding that Shawn could shower at the hotel.

The improvised med bay was fuller than it would have been in any other show, but this was Hell in a Cell, it wasn’t a joke when they said that the cell took its price. Shawn was sitting at one of the tables with one of the doctors looking at his head, while another one  bandaged his knee. Ted DiBiase Jr. was talking to Shawn, and by the pitiful look on his face he seemed to be apologizing for something. Cody also had his head down and seemed to be anxiously moving on his heels.

“Hey Showstopper, how you feeling?!” Hunter said as a way of announcing his presence to the people in the room. Both Rhodes and DiBiase whipped their heads around at the sound of his voice, as if they were worried about something. That got Hunter’s attention, it was common knowledge among the wrestlers that Hunter and Shawn were a couple, and that the Game did not play around when it came to his boyfriend getting hurt. A lot of guys found themselves on the bottom of the card after a botched move against the Heartbreak Kid. 

Shawn may have changed his ways, but Triple H was not above using his influence if anyone happened to hurt his man.

“I would be much better if you could stop yelling.” Shawn answered, moving his head in Hunter’s direction and instantly flinching as the light from the door hit his eyes. “So what seems to be the problem doc?” Hunter asked the doctor working on Shawn’s head. “He has a mild concussion. I would suggest going to the hospital to get a CT scan, but I know how stubborn you wrestlers are, so I’m not going to bother. His knee is also a little swollen, nothing, a little ice and immobilization can’t fix.” Hunter gave a look at Shawn’s knee and then at his face. Shawn just gave him one of his signature smiles. “Don’t worry big man, I’ll be fine.” Shawn said with a yawn “Just need some sleep.”

“Yeah, about that I wouldn’t recommend him sleeping for the next hour. He needs rest, but it was a nasty bump to his head, his pupils are dilated and he’s dizzy." The doctor said, “One hour is probably enough to make sure nothing worse happened. I suggest someone should stay the night with him. Maybe his wife?” Shawn gave a little snort at that, “Don’t worry doc, my wife will take real good care of me.” Hunter glared at his boyfriend, but didn’t say anything. Right now he was more worried about Shawn’s health than him being a smartass.

DiBiase stared nervously at the both of them, he looked like he wanted to say something, but wasn’t certain if he should. Lucky for him, Shawn seemed to have made the decision in his place. “Hey kid, don't sweat it, accidents happen. Besides, this isn’t the first time I got a concussion. You and Rhodes go celebrate Orton’s victory.” Once Shawn was done speaking he gave each one of the guys a light tap on the shoulder, Rhodes and DiBiase looked like they still wanted to say something, but Shawn shooed them away.

Once his knee was fully bandaged up, Shawn jumped from the med table, clapping both his hands. “Well doc it was nice seeing you, but it’s time for me to go to the hotel to meet with my wife.” Shawn gave extra emphasis on the word wife and smiled widely at Hunter, who just rolled his eyes. “Come on showstopper, let’s get you to the hotel.”

The ride to the hotel was silent, although Shawn had appeared to be in high spirits while they were in the trainers, Hunter could notice that the older man was tired, his eyes drooping from time to time. Keeping the doctor’s warning in mind he would lightly tap Shawn’s thigh when he almost fell asleep, they were too old now to disregard doctor’s orders like they once did. Shawn seemed to agree with him because he didn’t complain. 

Every time they would stop at a red light Hunter couldn’t help but stare at Shawn, worry clear on his face. Many times during the match he had come close to just bursting from gorilla and stopping the beat down on his boyfriend. Shawn played the damsel in distress very well and it had made Hunter almost believe that the older blonde truly thought he had been abandoned by his partner. 

Of course Hunter would never truly abandon him, they went through too much together for anything to separate them. Hell, Shawn probably knew that Hunter would have broken the chain with his bare hands if he believed Shawn was in any real danger. Still Hunter felt like shit. Shawn’s broken face as he walked away would probably haunt him forever. 

Once they got to the hotel, Hunter took both their bags out of the car and started to make his way to the elevator, always keeping a close eye on Shawn to see if the blonde wouldn’t need any help. 

Their room was nice, a real step up from the crappy motels they had stayed at when they were younger. Now with both of them having established careers and the company thriving, not to mention good financial investments from both of them, they could finally afford to stay in nice rooms in expensive 5 star hotels. 

Normally a pay per view victory for them would mean celebration, not the kind they used to do back in the day, but something more personal between the two of them. But tonight Shawn seemed like he could drop at any moment so their celebration would probably have to wait. 

“Get undressed, I’m running you a bath.” Hunter said once he placed their bags on one of the couches. “Ooh, someone is getting frisky.” Shawn’s voice carried a flirty lilt to it, but he did as he was told. “It’s not like that heartbreaker. Wouldn’t want to aggravate any injuries you might have.” Hunter had set about the bathroom, filling up the tub and gathering the supplies needed for a nice warm bath. 

“Not like you can actually fuck me that hard.” Shawn said as he entered the bathroom. “Nice try, but you’re not goading me into fucking you today.” Hunter gave Shawn a peck on his lips and a light tap on his butt. “Now get into the bath showstopper.” Once Shawn was settled, Hunter took the shower supplies out of their bag and started to carefully wash Shawn’s hair. The older man almost purred when Hunter’s strong hands started caressing his hair, relaxing into the bath and allowing his man to pamper him.

“You really hit your head hard didn’t you?” Hunter’s voice was tinged with concern as he focused on a specific spot of Shawn’s scalp. The older blonde gave a small hiss when the other’s hands prodded against the small bump that was starting to form on his head. “Sorry.” Hunter said as he gave Shawn's head a kiss. He continued washing Shawn, massaging certain spots he knew would be sore from the match.

“Why don’t you soak a little bit, while I get an ice pack ready for you.” Hunter kissed Shawn’s cheek as he got up from his position. Shawn sighted letting the warm water do the work on his tired body, although he often complained when Hunter fussed over him, he also loved getting pampered.

Hunter tidied the room, setting a pair of sweats on the bed for Shawn and changing into one of his own. He then went to their gym bags and took one of the ice packs they carried around, as well as one of the hot packs for Shawn’s back. He placed the ice pack in the freezer and set about heating water to put in the water bag. 

Once he was done he returned to the bathroom. Shawn was almost falling asleep in the water, but perked up once Hunter arrived. Shawn rinsed himself off of the remaining suds and with Hunter’s help got out of the bath. Hunter wrapped a fluffy towel around his boyfriend and kissed him lightly on the lips. “There, bet you’re feeling much better now.” Shawn just smiled at him, content in being in the taller blonde’s embrace.

They both made their way to the room, while Shawn dried himself and changed into the sweats, Hunter was checking on the heating water. When it finally boiled he turned off the stove and filled the water bag. Shawn laid down on his stomach on the bed while Hunter placed the hot pack on his lower back. When the hot object made contact with his skin he couldn’t help but groan as he felt his muscles relax. 

Hunter just sat by Shawn’s side on the bed, neither man saying anything. This wasn’t an unusual scenario for them, it seemed the older they got the more common it was for one of them to be laying injured in a hotel bed. But at least they weren’t alone. 

Shawn stretched his hand and grasped Hunter’s, slowly bringing it to his mouth and lightly kissing it. “What’s bothering you, big man?” Hunter thought he had done a pretty good job of hiding his feelings from Shawn, but as always the older wrestler seemed to be able to read him like a book. “It’s nothing… I need to check the ice pack.” 

Shawn craned his neck awkwardly to watch Hunter, something was certainly bothering the younger man, but he couldn’t figure out what it was. Like sure, he was hurt, but it was nothing any of them hadn’t been through multiple times. 

Hunter made his way back to the bed. “Time to switch the packs.” Shawn reached for his back and took the water bag, handing it to Hunter, who placed it on the bedside table. “Can you hold me while I ice my knee?” Shawn asked as he tidied himself on the bed. “Of course.” Hunter handed Shawn the ice pack and sat on the bed with his legs spread. Shawn sat in the middle of Hunter’s legs and rested his torso against his boyfriend after placing the ice pack on his injured knee. Hunter then wrapped his arms around Shawn and pulled the blonde closer, holding him tightly. 

They stayed like that for some time, before Shawn finally spoke. “Did I do something wrong?” Hunter was shocked by the question, of course not, how could Shawn even think that? 

“Like there’s obviously something bothering you, and it definitely wasn’t the match, because the match went great, except for my concussion, but we’ve had concussions before, and it’s never that serious, and you never got like this over a concussion and you know you can tell me if it’s something I did because you know sometimes I don’t notice when I do something wrong and then everyone is like How could you? but if I ask what I did wrong they get even angrier and then I feel like shit and…” Shawn was rambling, something he had the habit of doing when he was nervous, and Hunter needed to stop it before it turned into a spiral. So in a panic he turned Shawn’s face and kissed him. 

“Sorry… you were rambling.” Hunter said as the kiss ended. “And it’s not you. You were great today, it’s just… forget it.” Shawn had completely forgotten he was supposed to stay still and was now kneeling in front of Hunter. “Hunt, do you remember our rule? No hiding our feelings from each other, it has done enough harm through the years.” Shawn had both his hands cupping Hunter’s face, lightly playing with the hairs in his beard.

Hunter took a deep breath. “I feel bad for leaving you in the match, I know we planned it and we both agreed to it. But I still feel bad.” Shawn couldn’t help but kiss him. “That’s actually really sweet Hunt.” Hunter tugged Shawn closer, hugging him as tight as possible. “It’s okay, I know you wouldn’t leave me big man.” They stayed like that for a while, just taking in the closeness from each other.

“You play a really convincing damsel in distress.” Shawn laughed at that. “I know, it’s part of my charm. Now let’s get this ice pack off the sheets before it soaks the bed.” As Shawn started to get up Hunter pulled him down. “I’ll do it, you stay in bed.” Hunter got up and took the nearly completely melted ice pack from the bed and put it back in the freezer. He also emptied the water bag and took fresh bandages from their gym bag.

After finishing wrapping up Shawn’s knee Hunter got on the bed, laying by his boyfriend’s side and pulling him into a hug. Shawn pecked Hunter’s lips as he whispered goodnight to the larger man. In seconds he was out like a light, the stress of the day finally washing away from him and Hunter soon followed. And if for the next few days he held Shawn a little tighter, well, the heartbreak kid didn’t mind.

[moomoog017]

fic ᯓᡣ𐭩 just a skim ꔛ✿

Commander Wolffe x Medic! GN Reader

Synopsis: After a risky mission, Jedi Master Plo Koon decides to hire a full time medic aboard his ship. 

Genre: tiny angst with fluff n’ spice

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: Small description of burn injury, protruding veins (if you like that stuff), character in pain

A/N: 1st Wolffe writing!! This was fun to write, I did my best but what do you think? Writing under the cut!

“I’d like to introduce you to our new medic, they will be staying with us until further notice.” General Plo Koon states, sticking a hand out ushering you from the darkness. You cower behind the Jedi, smiling gently giving a small wave to the crew. “Glad to be working with you guys.” Is all you manage as all the clones eyes on you makes you shrink. Some clones smile or wave back but one gets your attention. He stands apart from everyone else, up front and arms crossed. Your eyes meet his gaze, you quickly take notice of his cybernetic right eye. Your eyes fall from his as your face begins to flush pink. Plo Koon places a gentle hand on your shoulder, making you stand up straight. This is going to be awkward. This will be your first time living with a lot of people in such a closed area, but you were going to make it work.

About 2 months later…

“Ah Kriff!” Wolffe curses, rushing to you, hand resting just under his rib cage on his side. Your eyes widen as you hurry to remove things from your stretcher. He slams down sitting upright onto it. “What happened?” You shuffle to get your medical supplies, placing it down next to Wolffe. “Damn clanker! Got me just in time.” Wolffe’s gruff voice echoed through the room. “Where’s everyone else?” You fumble your gauze as you speak. “Safe, only I got hit.” He gritted through his teeth. “I need to remove your chest armor and blacks.” You stutter. Wolffe nods, helping you remove it, along with shimming out of the top half on his blacks. He takes a sharp inhales through his teeth as you peel the fabric closer to his wound. A hole present from the droid's shot. You pull them down, relieving the wound in full. Scanning Wolffe's wound, a sigh of relief washes over you. “It’s only a graze, just some burn care and disinfecting.” He scowls. “Still hurts like hell.” A small smile grazes your face, relieved he still has his usual attitude.

You turn away to grab the disinfecting liquid from a nearby cabinet. You drip some of the liquid onto a gauze pad and move your hand to his wound. You gently dab the gauze onto his burn. He grunts, squeezing the edges of the stretcher. You notice the veins on his arm protruding, and his muscles tense as he grasps at the metal. The blood rushes to your cheeks as your face gets hot. Your eyes quickly return to his wound. Removing the gauze, you get up once more to grab the burn cream. Taking a small metal scoop, you coat the burn with the cream. The commander looks down at you taking a heavy inhale. The burning and slightly cold sensation of the scoop and cream makes him cringe. “Does that feel better?” You ask hesitantly. “I guess, not the first time I’ve been shot.” His face flat as he looks to his burn.

“Any more concerns doc?” You open your mouth as if to speak but quickly you close it. “What?” Wolffe responds. The question burning through you, ever since you saw him. “Your eye, what happened to it?” He looks down. “Ventress.” He scowls at the name. A small “o” appears on your face. “I’m sorry.” Is all you can manage. You walk closer sitting beside Wolffe on the stretcher. You slowly lift your hand to his chiseled face. He cautiously watches you but doesn’t stop you. Your hands meet his skin, you take your finger tracing his scar. Wolffe watches as you gently trace over his face. A small grin emerges from his mouth. After tracing his scar, you move your hand to his cheek, feeling his cheekbones and rubbing your thumb over it. Wolffe softly takes your hand and places it on his thigh. “It’s ok, it’s been a while.”

You smile admiring him. You’ve never been this close to your commander. You can’t help but take in the image of him. You’ve never seen his bare body before, his chest toned and coated with a shine of sweat. His tan skin enhances his features so handsomely. You feel your face turn extra warm as you shift your eyes to his. Wolffe smirks as he takes notice of you admiring his form, a glare in his fake eye. “Like what you’re seein’?” He speaks, his voice smooth and flirtatiously. “Ah yeahh.” Is all you can manage, words stuck in your throat. Trying to shake the image from your thoughts. “You’re getting really red in the face (y/n).” Wolffe’s voice was low, he was just teasing you now. His smirk plastered proudly upon his face. “So what?” You defensively say, crossing your arms. “Admit it, mesh’la.” The word rolls off his tongue, lingering in the air. The word sends a shiver down your spine, you know what it means. “You’re starting something.” Your eyebrow raises. “Your eyes say it all.” Wolffe stands up from the stretcher, a small wince escaping his lips.

His figure towers over you, your heartbeat speeds up and your breaths become short and hot. Wolffe leans over you, locking you in his arms, hands pressed firmly on the stretcher just barely touching your thighs. You bite your lip in anticipation, your thighs pressed firmly against each other. “Commander…” Embarrassed, you look away. “Look at me mesh’la.” Wolffe says soft but his words are firm. Your eyes slowly meet his, your cheeks warm. The commander brings his face closer to yours lips, almost touching. “I’ve always liked you (y/n).” His eyes burn into yours, he glances to your lips. You had no words, the feeling overwhelming you. “So sweet, a little shy, a little feisty.” Wolffe’s hot breath sweeps across your already burning face. He leans in a little closer and your lips meet. Your eyes close and his rough lips meet your soft ones. Your heart is sent a flutter and all you can hear is your own heartbeat. The feeling so warm and exciting, the feeling of his lips leaves yours as he pulls away after a moment. A small frown tugs at the corner of your lips.

The commander's arms are still holding you still on the stretcher. The sound of the door opening has Wolffe quick on his feet releasing you as he stands up straight, clearing his throat. In return you stand up scrambling to gather your medical supplies. “How is the commander (y/n)?” Plo Koon's voice is deep and sweet. “All good sir!” Wolffe is quick to respond. His response is followed by your nod. “It's just a skim.” Plo nods, satisfied with your answer. “Commander, you're needed in the cockpit.” The Jedi speaks flatly. Wolffe nods quickly whispering in your ear. “We’ll finish this later mesh’la.” His breath skims your ear making you jump a little. You nod your head but Wolffe is already leaving. Plo Koon’s eyebrow raises slightly. You send Plo an awkward lopsided grin. Plo nods his head, removing himself from the room. A small smile forces its way upon the Jedi’s face, as he leaves.  

[goldieballerina]

we made it to the midterm!! things i've learned since starting college

under the cut because it got really long

you're going to get locked out

you're going to forget your towel when you go to shower

make sure your professors know you -- office hours, emails, and answering questions during class are great ways of doing this

everyone says not to take 8ams. you might be able to. this is a personal thing

everyone told me i would learn to like coffee in college while pulling all nighters. i haven't had coffee and i haven't pulled an all-nighter.

homework may be assigned a week or so before it's due. if you start working on it the day it's assigned, you can stop and start when you get bored without worrying about having to power through to submit on time

^^ this is true for nearly every assignment format

if you have to write a paper or something, get your first draft down as soon as possible and then shut the document. open it the next day to start editing and refining

don't use easybib for bibliographies, they make you disable your adblocker and then it's like unusable (check if your school gives access to noodletools, and if not, gdocs has a fairly good citation thing under "tools")

clubs are fun and generally low-commitment! go to some! you can join halfway through the semester if you want! they can have nothing at all to do with your major and are a good way to unwind a little

sports games are similar! and i say this as someone who isn't a big sports fan, but see if you get free student tickets and check out a game (i watched my first hockey game last weekend and it was super cool)

you're going to have to download so many apps (some of them you will use all the time, some will be useless. download them all and then delete the ones that don't work)

same thing with discord servers

make sure you have some way of scanning things into pdfs

don't assume anything in your dorm room is clean until you've cleaned it yourself

get snack clips (i haven't done this and i need to)

your professors are human and are generally very understanding that sometimes Life happens and you can't make it to class, need to leave early, or miss an assignment deadline (they will likely be even more understanding if you have made yourself known to them and/or stayed on top of attendance and classwork)

don't skip class if you can help it (yes it will be tempting. no don't)

there are people there to help you academically, mentally, and physically -- use these resources!

i never work on calc homework alone anymore - i go to the tutoring center so that when i have a question i can put my hand up and get it answered instead of getting frustrated

if you type your notes keep them all in one doc so you can ctrl-f for keywords when studying easily (use heading to keep track of which days/topics they are)

you're going to make friends, it just kind of happens

check out what events might be happening where you can do cool things/get free stuff or food (my uni has therapy dogs come once a month and my friends and i always go)

if your school has a bus that goes off-campus, figure out where it stops and make use of it for things you need but can't get on-campus

eat vegetables (sometimes this gets away from me)

stay up to date on vaccinations

giving blood is a great way to get free food and sometimes other rewards

call the people you care about

figure out where you like to study

try to stay on speaking terms with your roommate

if you carry a reusable water bottle, wash it regularly

pick a random time you have free to do laundry (everyone wants to do it on sundays - figure out a time where you have a 2-3 block of free time and do it then)

don't go to parties alone and especially don't get drunk/high at parties alone

you can take a deep breath and shut your computer off if you need to

if you have a lofted bed get a shelf to clamp onto the side (especially if you have glasses and things you like to keep right next to your bed)

keep on top of washing your bedding and towels

you can say no to dates you don't want to go on

time flies, i know that's a cliche but it genuinely feels like i've blinked and made it here

you can do it

[misty-moth]

I finished writing this the day I made this blog, but just uh… let it sit in my docs. But I shall now set it free (๑˘ᵕ˘) ‘tis but a silly little Clavis story, but it made me happy.

Ps: figured out how tags work now, so I’ll be reposting my fics without notes… I have learned this day.

Divider: chachachannah

Clavis fluff, 1317 words

Bright and early that morning (or as early in the morning as his grumbly older brother would allow), Clavis sat in silence while parsing through the daily paperwork for documents that Chev would need to address versus the ones he himself would be completing. He was nearly finished sorting them when he heard a knock on the door. Knowing full-well who that meek knock belonged to, Clavis opened the door himself.

“Ah, sweet Belle. Your dutiful punctuality is so refreshing, you know that?” Clavis glanced down at the newest pile of paperwork, reaching out his hand.

But Belle returned his smile while firmly brushing past him. “Don’t worry, Clavis, I remembered you saying how busy you are this week. I’ve sorted these out, and they are all meant for Prince Chevelair.”

Clavis watched with slight bewilderment as she brazenly placed the stack on the Brutal Beast’s desk before quietly exiting.

Puzzled, he glanced back at his brother. “Oh dear, it appears our sweet Belle is gunning for my job! I can check those again for—“

“Don’t bother.” Chevelair had already begun the top document of the newest pile after a quick scan.

Clavis blinked before shrugging, plopping back down into his seat.

They returned to their usual silence until Clavis heard a snort. He looked over at Chev who was reading what appeared to be a hand-written letter. Chevalier’s expression was ever-so-subtly humored, and Clavis strained to see that the envelope had been addressed under Belle’s name.

“Aha! I was curious why the little rabbit was acting so coy. Something amusing?” Clavis began to stand before Chev firmly replied.

“You needn't worry about it. Continue your work.”

Clavis’ grin slipped. He was stuck in a strange sitting/standing position, pondering his next move. Chev still held the note, which appeared to only be one page. He must have already finished reading it, right? With a final “hmph” and that same aggravating smirk, he placed it beside his right elbow and continued his paperwork.

Clavis pried his eyes away, activating his peripheral into overdrive as he attempted to study the envelope from across the room. Surely he could somehow read the contents through that paper sheathe with enough mental fortitude.

An agonizing half hour went by with zero luck on the x-ray vision, when suddenly— the envelope! It moved! Clavis nearly jumped as Chev retrieved the letter and unceremoniously placed it in his desk drawer. Clavis watched in horror as Chev retrieved a small key, sealing away the secret treasure.

Chev stood, shifting the rest of the documents into a neat pile before heading toward the exit, key in hand.

“Ah— Chev!” But Clavis’ call went unanswered. The door clicked closed, and he practically launched himself over to his brother’s desk.

Clavis unleashed his most dramatic sigh as he analyzed the small lock placed there. His extracurricular activities gave him all of the talents needed to bypass this lock’s “security”, no issues there. But it meant going all the way back to his room and shuffling through his “hobby bag”, which he had neglected to reorganize properly after his last stunt. He was grateful, at least, that his brother probably wouldn’t return in the next hour...

Clavis set out, gliding quickly through the halls, before entering his own room. He did his best to remain calm and steady, lest he jostle his goody bag and make the jumbled mess even worse. He finally held the properly sized picklock above him triumphantly. Resealing his personal quarters, he did his best to look calm and collected on his way back to the office as there were now a few people roaming the halls. Turning the last corner, he spotted his loyal sidekick Cyran speaking with Chev’s poor lackey Cyril.

“Ah, I love a sweet reunion between friends! What brought on this little meeting?” Clavis joined them, now just outside of the office. Cyran and Cyril opened the door, allowing Clavis to enter first before filing in.

“Cyril was telling me that Prince Chevalier needed him to bring him some of today’s documents.” Cyran stood to the side of the room as Cyril began shuffling through the day’s paperwork, pulling a few pieces out.

But then…no… Clavis flinched as Cyril pulled out the key. He watched the note being lifted before being placed atop the pile. Clavis began to speak, but Cyril promptly apologized while stating that Prince Chevalier had requested his haste. With a small bow, Cyril exited without re-locking the drawer.

It was official: Clavis was shook. He caught his bearings, hand on the door handle in a flash, but Cyran cleared his throat. “Prince Clavis, I was actually here to report on the latest training.”

Clavis grimaced at the door before plastering his smile back on for his knight’s sake. “Please then… report.”

Cyran began at an unbearably slow pace and, noting that this news wasn’t nearly as interesting as the letter that was rapidly escaping him, Clavis was nearly trembling as he restrained himself. Cyran unceremoniously finished reporting, face looking displeased but not surprised.

“Very good, Cyran, you are doing simply splendid work as always. I would hug you for your continued loyalty, but I am running late today.” Clavis waved one hand, the other ripping the door away.

Bursting into the hallway, Clavis glanced both ways. There was not a single Cyril in sight, and he groaned. Come to think of it… where did Chev even go?? He didn’t have anything on his schedule! Clavis had been too preoccupied to remember that babying Chev was a part of his job and he put that schedule together himself!

Not wasting a moment longer, he headed off in the direction with the highest likelihood of holding his brother. He checked every hiding place that he could think of, even conducting a brief scan of the gardens before doubling back to check the other way. As he turned the corner once more, he was stunned into a halt.

“You!” Clavis shot a finger at Chev, who was leaning nonchalantly against the office door.

“Don’t point, it’s rude.” Chevalier glowered as Clavis practically stomped over. Clavis glanced at the pile of paperwork in Chev’s hands, seemingly untouched from their earlier retrieval, including the prized letter on top.

Clavis swiped said letter, and was mildly surprised that he wasn’t met with any response from his frustratingly fast brother. Clavis defensively hopped back whilst whipping the note out from the envelope.

———

Dear Prince Clavis,

Now that you are reading this, I’m curious to know just how much time was spent getting to this point? When you told me you were “simply too busy” to remove god-knows how many traps from the garden yesterday, I was quite concerned that your time-management skills weren't as remarkable as I originally assumed.

However, knowing you, I am certain you managed to allocate plenty of time into retrieving this. I am both appreciative and impressed! In the future, I hope you can put this new found “free time” toward the requested removal of your patented Lelouchian traps and ensuring the safety of your brothers.

Warm regards,

The Garden’s Victims

——

As if to add insult to injury, the letter was marked with the official seals of the princes Yves, Licht, and even Luke.

Mouth agape, Clavis slowly turned his eyes to Chev. “Et tu, Brutal Beast?”

Chev’s smirk returned as he sauntered back into the office. “It seemed the simpleton needed me for a good cause.” The door closed behind him with a click.

Clavis was left by his lonesome, gobsmacked. He took a moment before a roar of giddy laughter erupted from him.

“Hahaha, this is love… love I tell you!” Clavis respected a good show of mischief, and this little lady read him like an open book.

Clavis beamed before taking a final lap down the hallway, this time in search of a lovely, victorious little rabbit.

Writing Masterlist

[kookaburra1701]

From the asks list <3

4. Where do you find inspiration for new ideas?

31. Do you start with the characters or the plot when writing?

57. Do you prefer editing as you write, or waiting until it’s finished?

Eeeee ty. Questions from here.

4. Where do you find inspiration for new ideas?

Oh man. I honestly don't know. I wish I did, because I could then shut off the flow while I work through the massive WIP backlog. What tends to happen is I'm writing a fic and a side character hijacks my brain and I think about what fun Situations I can put them in and then BAM new WIP(s.) But I think the answer to this is actually the same as the answer to the next question...

31. Do you start with the characters or the plot when writing?

Which is both and neither! (Useful, right?)

Generally, the process goes like this: I get an image or a very, very short scene in my head. Usually there's very specific characters in this scene or image, but not always, so I guess the answer would lean towards characters. I have no idea what events led up to this scene. But I replay the scene over and over in my head and think about what events happened before to lead up to it and what events would happen after to make a satisfying resolution (If the scene is not an ending scene.)

The story outline then grows as keep letting the full narrative grow from that seed-scene. I have a doc filled with a lot of those scene seeds, some of them get wrapped up into existing WIPs, some are waiting to see if they'll grow into something on their own. This is also the root of why I do not write in order - sometimes the story is growing backwards and I often don't find the "beginning" until well after I've figured out what the "end" should be!

For example, I've still got the "seed" that grew into Wives of Shor...and I actually have no idea where in the fic I'm going to put it any more, because the story brambles have grown in so many directions!

Kaidan and Inigo shared a knowing look before each moved silently to the perimeter of the small hollow. Pascale and Lucien, completely absorbed in exploring every crack and crevice in the overgrown pile of rocks which had once been an ancient Nordic megalith, did not notice. Inigo stood next to a fir tree, its drooping boughs breaking up his silhouette. Kaidan could see his right hand resting casually on the hilt of his sword as the khajiit’s sharp eyes scanned the forest. A twig snapped to Kaidan’s right. His head snapped around, looking for the source. Hoofbeats and crashing brush heralded an elk followed by her calf appearing from the thicket. The cow took one look at him and immediately turned back. Kaidan took his hand off his sword. They had likely come to drink from the spring seeping up from the foot of the tumbled stones. Lucien’s laughter bubbled up behind him, and Kaidan spared a glance at the two. Pascale was crouched on one of the taller rocks, watching Lucien dig around in his pack. Lucien was clearly laughing in response to one of her quips. Kaidan felt a pang – so much passed between Pascale and Lucien that he would never understand.

This scene - Kaidan feeling on the outside looking in while he and Inigo did the job of keeping everyone safe while the archaeology nerds explore with no thought to danger just popped into my head one day back in 2020 (judging by the timestamp on the first iteration of this in my computer.) I turned this scene and replayed it over and over for over a year before I realized I wanted Kaidan and Lucien have bodice-rippery sex-pollen escapades, and that was something that was going to happen after this scene. The story-vine grew forward to connect them, and I waited for it to grow backwards to the start...but instead the bodice-ripper sex-pollen romp sent out a stolon that COMPLETELY BYPASSED the original seed and the beginning was disconnected. The plant metaphor might be getting away from me here.

57. Do you prefer editing as you write, or waiting until it’s finished?

Once again, it's both? I tend to write in bursts that I don't edit, but then before making too much progress past that get edited on their own. Then at the end before publishing I do several rounds of gestalt editing to find plot holes, inconsistencies, etc that crop up from my piecemeal writing style. I usually at this point print out the entire chapter and mark it up with an actual pencil because that's a good way for my brain to see errors that I've become blind to.

Then it goes off to beta for several rounds. When my beta is done (or is sick of me ha ha) I do another print out round of editing.

[stop-pressing-e]

The Lost Swan - Epilogue

Prev chapter Prologue

/After three months of writing this, it's finally done. Originally, I wrote this for one single friend in mind, but I chose to share this story with others who would be interested.

I would like to say my thanks to those who left likes on the past chapters and have taken the time to read them. I have the google docs version in the middle of editing to be better if anyone wants that too. HMU on it and feel free to ask me about the story or about anything :D Once again, thank you for reading this story and may you have a lovely day.

-Midnight Hatter/

“Do you see our fair man, love?” 

“Negative.”

Florence, Italy. Such a beautiful city to visit and to admire the beautiful buildings and admire the famous works made by recognisable artists. A lovely city indeed but alas they were not here to sightsee or enjoy themselves. They are still on the job. Perched on one of the many rooftops where no one could see them as they minded their own business and pleasure, Dullahan and Krauser scanned for their target through a sea of people. Based on the new information given, he should be among the crowd after leaving the show.

Dullahan slowly inhaled and exhaled to avoid moving the rifle or else the light from the setting sun should reflect the scope and catch anyone’s attention. Krauser continued to search for him through his binoculars. That’s when he caught sight of a face seen from the photo not in the crowd of people but from the window.

“Dullahan, I have eyes on our target.” Krauser said. “Second floor. Open window.” The hitman adjusted her rifle to her new location, she smiled to see him too. “Perfect. It seems he’s still shaken after what our dear lad has done to send the message. I have a visual on the target when the time comes. On your command, Silverdax.”

Together they watched their target smoke a cigar while having a conversation with someone next to him. The other person was unimportant to them until they saw their target handing his friend a small folder. Krauser switched his binoculars for a camera to zoom in and take a few shots of the little interactions and of who could be their new target with the organisation’s permission and their client’s decision.

“Shall I take the shot now, Silverdax?”

“Wait…” He held a finger up, though she couldn't see it with the lack of a left eye. “Ten seconds from now…” She silently counted down, her finger moving towards the trigger. “Now.”

Dullahan fired and together they saw their target fall backwards and the other man jumped back in horror by what he had witnessed up close. It was enough of that. Their job was done and they were packing up before their guards could try and identify the location of the shot. 

They made sure their clothes were clean and straightened up to avoid suspicious looks from the locals and tourists, so they walked back to their hotel hand in hand. Trish carrying the duffel bag holding their gears and Krauser carrying the briefcase containing her rifle.

“I hope we can stay in Italy a bit longer.” Trish hummed softly as she gazed at the row of shops that were closing up for the day and the people still out and enjoying their time. Her arm wrapped around his arm, squeezing his muscled limb gently, and resting her head against his shoulder. “His buddy looked like someone we will have to handle soon.” 

“Are you hoping there will be an event he’ll be attending and we’ll have to dress up for it?” There was no doubt Krauser could be right on his prediction. Her kind of targets are always attending luxurious events he would never go for, but the sight of her in a dress and all dressed up was enough to convince him to enjoy the moment while they’re on the job. He earned a chuckle from her. “After watching his buddy get killed right before his eyes? I doubt so, darling. But that would be nice. I would love to dance in a ballroom again.”

“If he stays at a nice hotel that has a ballroom, I’ll see to bribing the staff to allow us a private night for ourselves.”

“Oh monsieur, how romantic of you.” Trish angled her head to smile at her husband. “But alas, that will have to wait. I can settle for dancing in our living room when we return home eventually.” Krauser returned a small smirk to his wife. “Fine by me.”

By the time guards have made their way to the location the shot has happened, the duo were long gone from the area and no one has seen what happened or seen anyone looking suspicious. The guards left frustrated, the organisation satisfied by the result, and the client pleased.

For Trish Odile and Jack Krauser?

They were enjoying the rest of their hours starting with dinner in a quaint little restaurant that was still open with a nice bottle of wine. A peaceful stroll in Cascine Park to enjoy while they admired the number of statues throughout the park and made their way to the Arno River. They’ve made their way to the Central Market and bought some trinkets for their home to finalise their night in Florence. Nothing to disturb them. No one to interrupt their evening. Nothing to force them to look over their shoulders out of paranoia or suspicion. What a day to end their time after a job well done.

It was a perfect day for the perfectly imperfect couple.

THE END

[squarebracket-trickster]

I use the what I call the "gateway drug" method. Basically, you break the task that you need to do up into steps, and tell yourself you only need to do the first step right now. Just the first step, then you can stop and go do something else.

The idea here is that just doing the first step will 1. help you feel less overwhelmed, 2. give you that sweet, sweet dopamine from a feeling of accomplishment, and 3. Get you thinking, "well, I've already started. Might as well do step 2." In other words, the step 1 becomes the gateway drug that convinces you to try step 2. Then, step 2 becomes the gateway drug to step 3. And so on.

This method works best when:

You break down the task into steps that each take less than a minute to complete. Bonus points for every step that takes only a few seconds. Bonus bonus points if the first several steps are the shortest. Build that momentum.

You allow yourself to just do the first step sometimes. If you always end up completing the whole task you'll stop believing yourself when you say "you can stop after step 1". And bringing your laundry basket to the laundry room and just leaving it there is still less one step to do later (for example).

You pick a moment to do the task when you are already up and doing things. This never works if I am trying to coax myself out of bed or off my computer, but it works like a charm if I just finished cleaning the kitchen after dinner - I might as well put away this one thing in the living room too - or I just clocked out of work and now my phone is in my hand - I might as well scan my personal email really quick before I get in the car.

You set aside a time for "doing tasks". You are not allowed to start the task before then, and you have to stop once that time is up. Importantly, you don't have to use all that time for tasks either. You just have to do one teensy little 3 second step. This helps create a sense of urgency, but also if you really want to go read your book or watch YouTube or google how to get the prime minister to send your friend's little sister a birthday congratulations, or whatever you're currently hyperfixated on, your brain doesn't stop you from starting the task because it's afraid you'll end up doing that all day instead of the thing it wants you to do.

The other important trick is, if the task is really big (like doing an hour of homework or deep cleaning the bathroom), don't break up every single step. Just break up the first several (and maybe the last few if you often leave things 80% done). Enough for you to feel like as long as you do those steps you know you'll do the rest. Like, when I break up research essays for uni into steps, I list "skim one academic article" as a step, then I list "reread it thoroughly, read the rest of the articles, take notes, and word vomit my thoughts in a word doc" as the next step, because skimming one article isn't very intimidating so I can trick myself into just doing that, but I know once I start skimming I will start having thoughts, and I will not be able to pull myself away from the task until I have written them all down, but I can't write them down until I've read all the articles. Besides, if I tried to list all these steps individually it'd take me an hour just to make the list.

Finally, "listing out what steps a task requires" can be your step one. Especially for tasks that are making you feel overwhelmed, and it's so much easier to come back to a task a week later if you have a list.

Ok how to do shit. Like, start doing tasks and keep doing them. I don't want neurotypical advice, it doesn't work, planners don't work, exercising is a task by itself, etc. It's not a social media issue, I'm just starring at a fucking wall. And then even if I manage to start doing something, there's ~80% chance that I'll abandon it during the first 10 minutes. Includes everything, hobbies, eating, low effort tasks (like watching a show) etc. Did anyone have the same/similar issue and got better? Genuinely, if anyone has any advice, please share.

Again, no planners, no exercise, no ask other people for help, no put out distractions, no change environment (all of that didn't work/is not possible for me) and it includes not only starting but keeping doing the thing. Please please please I'll take anything

[spacecadet-ticklesinspace]

Hi friend! :D i am SO happy you're enjoying writing again. you are the sweetest and your support means the world, so it's so exciting to see you start creating your own content!!! <333

how about octodad and whichever Peter you choose: "you never told me you could do that."

have fun! :D

(Stoooop! @ramblingsofachristiannerd, you're making me blush 😭 you are literally the sweetest person ever I cannot thank you enough for your kind words and for your prompt ❤️ I had so much fun writing this :) I couldn't decide on one Peter, so here's Octodad with all three Peters :) loosely based on an idea from @parker-fluff's page!)

"You never told me you could do that!"

Otto chuckled as he faced Peter 2. "My lab, my rules Peter."

"Come on Otto, how is that fair!" Peter 3 exclaimed as he pushed against the actuator wrapped around his waist.

"Because I've told you boys before" Otto explained as he looked over at Peter 3 "no play fighting in the lab, especially when I'm working. There's dangerous equipment around."

Peter 1 giggled and squirmed. "Whehere sorry Ohotto! Wehe were tryhying to behe carefuhul."

"I'm glad you were trying to be careful, but it's too late now little one." Otto smirked as his eyes scanned between the three Peters. "The tickle monster has already taken over."

"Plehease doc!"

"C-cohome on Otto, wehe'll behave!

"Wehe promise!"

"It's too late now boys. Once the tickle monster comes out, he cannot be stopped until you have learned your lesson."

"Gehet Peter 1 fihirst! Hehes cuter!"

"Wha--, hey! No, start with Three!"

Otto turned to Peter 2. "Or maybe I should start with the ringleader."

Two's eyes widened. "Me?"

"You're the oldest. You should be the example."

"Of course, blame the oldest!"

"I blame all of you Peter. You all should know better by now."

The three Peters fell silent. They weren't used to being reprimanded by Otto.

"You're right Otto. I'm sorry."

"Me two."

"Me three."

"I appreciate your honesty and accept your apologies." He pulled the three boys closer. "But there's still consequences to your actions."

All three erupted into giggles, but weren't struggling to get away this time.

"Hmm." Otto tapped his chin and turned to his last free actuator. "Where do you think we should start Moe?"

Start with the middle one father.

Good idea.

Otto turned to Peter 3 and watched as the middle brother's eyes widened.

"M-me?"

Otto pulled him closer. "Gotta change things up a bit. Keep you three on your toes."

Three tried to respond, but all that came out was a squeak as Otto's fingers spidred up and down his sides.

"Ohottoho!"

"Yes?"

"Ahh! Nohot thehere!"

"Awww, does it tickle?"

"Ye--." Peter 3 squealed then laughed loudly as he felt Otto's fingers scratch across his ribs.

"Here too?"

Three shook his head.

"No?" Otto teased as he pinched at Three's bad rib. "This doesn't tickle at all?"

Peter 3 was laughing to hard to even respond. His eyes were squeezed shut and his head was thrown back as he laughed and squirmed.

Otto only paused when Three snorted. "Now that is a rare sound out of you and it is adorable."

"Sh-shuhush."

Otto chuckled. He leaned forward to kiss Peter 3's nose and ruffle his hair before turning to the other two Peters. The actuator holding Three gently pulled him to the side so he could safely be out of the way.

"Then there were two."

Both Peter 1 and 2 giggled nervously as Otto looked between them.

Get our Peter father!

You have a soft spot for him, don't you Harry.

Please?

How can I say no to that?

Otto turned to Peter 2. "By popular demand, you have been chosen to go next."

Peter 2 blushed as he was brought closer to Otto. "O-okahay."

The older scientist felt a tug on his sleeve. He turned to a grinning Peter 3. "Yes Three?"

"I found out his shoulder blades are really bad."

"Three!"

Otto turned back to Two. "Oh really?"

"Uh-huh. Almost as bad as his ears."

"Hey! I didn't say anything about your calves while he was tickling you!"

Otto held up a hand. "We'll save that information for another day. For now, I want to go to my favorite spot."

His hand moved to wiggle behind Two's ear.

The oldest brother squeaked and pressed his shoulder up to his ear. "Hehey!"

"Hello to you too Peter." Otto teased as he added his other hand to Two's other ear.

Peter 2 squealed loudly before dissolving into loud laughter. His nose scrunched up cutely and he blushed brightly. He looked so much younger when he smiled like that.

"You always look so cute when you smile."

Two shook his head.

"Hey." Otto exclaimed as he moved down to tazer Peter 2's sides. "Don't call me a liar."

"Ihim naHAAAT!"

When Peter 2 shot his arms down to protect his sides, he exposed his neck. Otto's fingers immediately attacked there.

"AHH!"

"Another favorite tickle spot. It's always a race to see which can scrunch up higher. Your nose or your shoulders."

"HEHEY!"

Otto chuckled and stilled his fingers. "Hello again Peter."

Peter 2's giggles died down but his shoulders were still scrunched up.

"If you give me my fingers back I'll move on to your brother."

It took some effort, but Peter 2 was finally able to lower his shoulders enough. Otto poked his neck one more time before fully withdrawing his fingers.

With a kiss to the forehead and a quick hair ruffle, the actuator pulled Peter 2 to Otto's other side.

Otto turned to the final Peter. "And then there was One."

Peter 1 was already giggling. He shyly waved. "Hihi."

Otto pulled him closer. "Hello Peter 1. Ready for the tickle monster?"

Peter 1 squeaked. "I--I thihink soho."

"Well the tickle monster is ready for you," Otto replied while poking random spots on the youngest.

Peter 1's giggles picked up as he flinched at every poke. "Uhuh-ohoho."

Otto's fingers climbed up Peter 1's sides. "Now, where was that spot again?"

"W-whahat spohot?"

Otto's fingers continued to climb. "It was past these ribs."

The youngest's eyes widened as he caught on. "W-wahait!"

"It was right about . . . here." Otto dug into Peter 1's top ribs while sliding two fingers into each armpit.

Peter 1 screeched and immediately erupted into belly laughter and snorts. He, of course, had the brightest smile of the three. Even after everything the boy had been through, that smile stayed bright. And the snorts were adorable too.

"Aww, you always snort whenever you're attacked here. It's adorable."

One shook his head as his blush darkened.

"What is with you three and calling me a liar?" Otto asked as he moved down to Peter 1's stomach. "I always state the truth."

"EEEEEP! I-IT'S SOHO TIHICKLEHE!"

"Absolutely positively tickly?"

"YEHE---." The youngest cut himself off with another snort.

Otto moved to his sides to give him a breather. "I hadn't noticed."

"Yohou should get his belly button Otto. It's a reheal giggle button." Two teased

"SHUT UHUP!"

"You three just love to pick on each other, don't you?"

Two blushed.

Otto removed his fingers. "As adorable as that sounds, I think we'll save that information for another day."

He looked back over his three boys as his actuators lowered them to the ground. Once they were standing, they immediately wrapped him in a hug.

"Sorry we didn't listen earlier Otto."

"Sorry doc."

"Sorry Otto."

Otto returned the hug. "I'm glad you learned your lesson. I put those rules there because I don't want you boys getting hurt."

Two looked up. "We know."

Otto smiled and squeezed the three of them close. "Even though you three can be trouble, I still love you very much."

Three grins meet his. "We love you too Otto."

[chloegong]

that semi-AU romajuliette + benmars fic

i need a permanent place to store this after dumping a random google doc on twitter so here it is, the author writing fic for her own book because people gave me headcanons and they were too good not to make use of

__

the one where juliette and marshall go out for a night out on the town and roma and ben have to go along to supervise because one time they accidentally committed arson —headcanon from twitter user @leonidasvaldz

a semi AU where Benedikt and Marshall were hanging out with Roma and Juliette in those happy months R&J had together in 1922 before everything went wrong (aka you can take this as canon because it will fit the timeline but the characters won’t have memory of this in the actual published books)

Disclaimer: i wrote this in one go inside a starbucks please expect ao3 user chloegong and not Author Chloe Gong who does multiple rounds of edits on her books

Second Disclaimer: nobody go putting this on goodreads before someone on my publishing team kicks my ass (rightfully so, i’m on deadline rn and i’m writing fanfic instead of my real contracted manuscript)

Mandatory reminder that Our Violent Ends is available for preorder with all links here :)

__

It wasn’t supposed to happen again. And yet, somehow, Benedikt was watching fire curl around the side of the building, the roof beams giving a loud groan before shuddering and caving in on itself.

He turned a look onto Roma. “Your girlfriend is a maniac.”

~

Five hours earlier...

Juliette climbed in through the window of Roma’s bedroom, careful to hug the burlap bag close to her chest as she landed on his carpet. The howling wind outside drowned out some of the clinking, but the glass bottles were still making a racket no matter how carefully she hugged the bag. She had gone full throttle for tonight; when no one was watching and her relatives were downstairs crowing over a game of cards, she had snuck around and robbed the liquor cabinets at the Scarlet mansion quite generously. Now she dropped the bag onto Roma’s floor with a huff, brushing a curl of hair out of her eyes.

“Where’s Marshall?”

Roma looked up from where he was reading, putting his book down and rising from the bed smoothly.

“Well, hello.” He strode toward her, stopping before her with his arms crossed. “Lovely to see you too. You do know it is my bedroom you just snuck into, right?”

Juliette pretended to jump in surprise, looking around wildly. “Do you jest? Oh, bother. Let me climb back out and go find my real lover. Marshall! Where are—”

With a huff that seemed to double as a laugh, Roma grabbed her wrist before she could turn around and leave through the window again.

“You’re hilarious,” he said dryly.

“I know.” Juliette reached up with her free hand, clasping her cold fingers right onto his neck. Though her palm was freezing from the bitter temperatures outside, Roma hardly flinched, he only shrugged his shoulder up to keep her hand there. He couldn’t fight back the grin. For several seconds, the two of them only stood there, looking like a pair of idiots smiling at each other.

Then his door opened.

“Are we interrupting something?”

Marshall bounded into the room, throwing the door wide open. With a horrified expression, Benedikt hurried in after him and closed the door quickly, listening for movement on the other side.

“Yes, leave the door wide open,” Benedikt said. “While any White Flower strolling the corridor can peer in and see the Scarlet heir standing there in a silly coat.”

Juliette stepped away from Roma, peering down at herself as if she had forgotten what she put on. “I didn’t think it was that silly. It’s my disguise.”

“You do look a little like a housewife,” Marshall said, considering the coat.

“A fifteen-year-old housewife?”

“I suppose that is exactly why you look a little silly.”

Juliette pulled a face, but refrained from arguing further. She was here tonight because Marshall wanted to see the new Scarlet club that opened along Thibet Road, and she had promised she could sneak him in. Unfortunately, Marshall was bad at keeping secrets, and the worst at keeping secrets from Benedikt. The moment that Benedikt heard Marshall was planning on entering Scarlet territory, he had decided that he would come in accompaniment.

Juliette supposed it was only fair. Benedikt didn’t entirely trust her, but he was nice enough. He tolerated her presence and always kept an eye over his shoulder to make sure she wasn’t spotted on their territory if she poked her head in to see Roma. While Juliette didn’t know much about Marshall either, he was far warmer than his best friend, and for the first time last week, they had even enjoyed an outing with just the two of them. Juliette Cai and Marshall Seo—out and about in the border territories on a quaint evening.

That outing had ended with accidental arson though, so it was rather possible that exacerbated Benedikt’s desire to play chaperone. And of course, if Benedikt was coming along, Roma wanted to tag along too.

The arson was hardly their fault, Juliette and Marshall had maintained when the Montagovs asked questions. What kind of person left a stack of hay out beside a bar? And what kind of hay was that easily flammable just from accidentally whacking one of the lanterns on the awning onto the stack?

“All right.” Juliette hauled the bag up again. “Are we ready to sneak onto Scarlet territory?”

“Absolutely not,” Benedikt muttered, strolling past her for Roma’s window. “But is that going to stop either of you?”

Before anyone could answer him, Benedikt had already hopped the small gap between windows, climbing into their neighboring building for their route out unspotted.

“Great!” Juliette said. She passed the bag to Roma so he could do the carrying. What was the point of converting a rival gang enemy into a lover if not to lug around her heavy things? “Glad we’re all so enthusiastic.”

Roma sighed, clambering onto his sill and making the climb too. “The things I do for you, dorogaya.”

Marshall hurried after him. “I would argue you’re actually doing this for me, dearest Roma!”

With a snort, Juliette climbed out last, and pulled the window after her.

~

The Scarlet club had been a bust. Of course, Benedikt had figured that would be the case from the get-go, especially if they were sneaking in at such a late hour to avoid being seen by anyone important in the Scarlet Gang. At least Juliette had provided good alcohol, and now he squinted at the label of the wine bottle under the street lamps while they walked, taking the smaller main roads along the periphery of the city.

Up ahead, Roma and Juliette were whispering to each other, though they didn’t sound like they were talking in full sentences. Those two always communicated in looks and gestures, swapping languages whenever they felt like it and ending up with some incoherent tangle of words that no one else could comprehend.

“Is there anything left in that?”

Benedikt glanced to his side, shaking the bottle to show Marshall. “One last swig. All yours.”

Marshall took the bottle. He put it to his lips and swung up, his head tipped to the sky and the line of his throat bared to the night. Benedikt shivered suddenly, a line of goosebumps rising at the back of his neck. The season had turned cold and the wind that blew onto his face was biting. He wrote off his shudder to the chill, to the temperature dropping with the longer they spent outside at such an hour.

Suddenly, Marshall was squinting into the distance. “Hey.” His call summoned Roma and Juliette’s attention from ahead, who both turned around to see what the matter was.

Marshall pointed to the dark shape off the end of the road. “Isn’t that the abandoned factory we lost to the Scarlets?”

“Is it?” Juliette asked, a sudden glee in her face.

“Why would you say that?” Roma bemoaned. He didn’t bother trying to stop her as Juliette hurried ahead, eager to explore the factory. “Look what you’ve done.”

But Marshall was wearing a similar expression, his eyes scanning the factory as they approached closer and closer. Wordlessly, he handed the bottle back to Benedikt, and though Benedikt’s head was spinning from the drink, he still recognized the exact face that Marshall made before he was going to get himself into trouble.

“Mars—”

“I’ll keep an eye on her,” he insisted, tipping his chin forward. Juliette had disappeared into the factory. “You two be look-out. We wouldn’t want someone finding us here, right?”

Benedikt scarcely had a second to argue back. Marshall was already hurrying off.

~

Inside the factory, Juliette trailed her hands along the dark walls, her eyes wide. The machines looked strange in the moonlight, but stranger while sitting so idle. She was used to seeing rows and rows of workers in the daytime, trailing after her father as he ran inspections on the work of their trade partners. It might have been the wine in her system, but everything seemed to sway: sitting so inactive in movement that her eyes were imagining movement.

“Pst.”

Juliette almost jumped out of her skin.

“Christ,” she muttered, whirling around with a hand on her heart. Marshall slunk out from the shadows, both his hands in his pockets. “You gave me a fright.”

“Me? Frightening?” Marshall picked up a strange object on the table, inspected it for several seconds, then set it back down. “I am the least frightening person on the planet.”

“Yes, well, when it’s so dark, even a cuddly teddy bear would be terrifying.” Juliette felt around her dress. She thought she had tucked her lighter in here somewhere. There were little pockets sewn around the sleeves and armholes that she kept all her weapons, though if anyone asked, she would say she had the ability to materialize them out of thin air.

“Do you scream often at teddy bears?”

“Only when they sneak up on me.”

“I don’t see you screaming at Roma.”

“He gets a special pass. He’s only a teddy bear on the inside.”

Marshall snorted. He leaned down, trying to read the paper taped down to the table. At last, Juliette found her lighter—it was actually in her sock—and she brought it close, thumbing down the sparkwheel for a flame.

“Do not touch—for demolishing,” Marshall read under the new light. “Are the Scarlets going to build something new here?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Juliette replied. “My father doesn’t include me in his business meetings yet.”

“Hmm.” The shadows of the factory danced. Juliette thought she saw someone darting in her periphery, and she whirled around, but it was only Marshall’s shadow. Unfortunately, she had scared Marshall with her movement, and he bumped into her, asking, “What? What is it?”

The lighter flew out of her hands, landing on the paper.

“Nothing, nothing!” Juliette assured. “I was seeing things.”

But Marshall wasn’t convinced. He swiveled around. Peered hard into a corner. “Was it ghosts? I know this city has ghosts. All that death creates so many ghosts.”

Juliette tried to look where he was looking. She couldn’t see anything except the dark.

“There is no such thing as ghosts.”

“Just last week, I felt something walk by me and then there was no one when I looked. I swear to you, if it wasn’t ghosts then I—” Marshall stopped suddenly, turning around to look at the table. “Uh… is that supposed to happen?”

Juliette whirled around too. The whole table was on fire. “Oh, God.”

With a sudden pop, the fire sprung up and licked up to the walls. There had to be something sprayed inside the factory already to prepare for demolition, or else the flames would not be traveling with such intensive speed.

“Marshall,” Juliette said simply.

“Yes?”

She looked at him. “When the Montagovs ask, we blame the factory and say we have no idea what happened. Run!”

~

Benedikt and Roma kept watch in relative silence. Benedikt’s head was spinning, and his cousin looked like his head was doing the same if his swaying was any indication. Roma was humming softly under his breath, toeing the grass that grew around the abandoned factory.

Then, there was a sudden sound from inside, and the first tendrils of flames blew out from the topmost windows.

“Roma,” Benedikt said plainly. “I’m willing to bet my life savings that Juliette Cai just committed arson.”

Roma tilted his head up, his jaw dropping agape. At first, he could only stare at the growing fire, eating up the roof beams. Then, he said: “To be fair, it could have been Marshall.”

Benedikt threw his arms into the air. “Who looks more like the arson type, Juliette or Marshall?”

“Is that a trick question?”

“The answer was Juliette!”

Benedikt pinched the bridge of his nose. He was rapidly growing concerned, but before he could suggest they go in to search for the two, Juliette and Marshall ran out from the factory—laughing. The factory was burning down, and they were laughing, grasping at each other and spinning in circles right in front of the factory. They looked a sight: seconds away from collapsing atop of each other in utter delirium.

Benedikt turned to Roma. “Your girlfriend is a maniac.”

Roma was struggling to hold back his laugh watching her with Marshall. “I think she’s magnificent.”

Marshall stumbled, and Juliette squealed, reaching out to grab his arm before he could trip and land flat on his face. Benedikt almost—almost—let a smile slip. Before Roma could sight it and tease him for enjoying himself after all, he cleared his throat.

“What happened?” he bellowed.

“Faulty factory!” Marshall called back.

Benedikt shook his head, turning on his heel. They needed to get out of here before someone reported the fire.

“Come on!” he called back to the three. “Let’s go before the Municipal Police arrive.”

Upon Benedikt’s summons, Marshall left Juliette’s side and hurried to catch up. He slowed to a stroll once he was beside Benedikt, but Benedikt could feel Marshall watching him.

“What?” Benedikt asked. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure his cousin was following too. Thankfully he was, though it was mostly Juliette hauling him along, their hands clasped together and swinging while Roma kept looking at the fire.

“I think you enjoyed yourself,” Marshall replied smugly. “After all that complaining about sneaking into Scarlet territory.”

Benedikt reached out and rapped his knuckles on Marshall’s skull. With a shriek, Marshall darted ahead.

“You want me to enjoy myself?” Benedikt shouted after him, breaking into a run too. “Come back then! Let me throttle you!”

FIN.

[chiwhorei]

green scrunchies

pairing: dom!k. ukai x sub!fem!reader

genre: smut, 18+ minors dni

word count: 4.1k

warnings: swearing, spanking, smoking, daddy kink, dom/ sub dynamics, brat taming, subspace, dirty talk, degradation, age gap(reader is 22ish and ukai is 26ish) spitting, fingering, oral (fem receiving), edging, orgasm denial, dacryphilia, a little dumification, public nudity (kinda), unprotected sex, tattoos (there’s a tattoo in a really unholy place), this is just filth okay

a/n: i have been sitting on the bulk of this piece for a fucking month and am honestly so surprised i finished it. this was inspired by a picture i saw of a really naughty tattoo and my mind want crazy and vomited on to a google doc.

hymn: nothing’s gonna hurt you baby by cigarettes after sex

“but today isn’t a day of honey-sweet ministrations.”

Ukai Keishin is a gentle man. The team of highschoolers he coaches, his friends, hell, even his mother would beg to differ. But they were not privy to the Keishin you know. The man that serenades you with Elvis Presley while cleaning up after closing the store, grabbing your waist and pulling you into a clumsy slow dance as his gravelly voice croons into your ear. 

He’s entrancing. Hypnotizing you, almost two years ago now, in the most tender pursuit possible, so softly you were unaware of falling deeply in love with him until you had already tipped completely over. Turning to an ink pen and scraps of receipt paper to flesh out the feelings he worried would not sound perfect when they hit your ears. To this day, you’re not entirely sure if he meant to leave the pages to his extemporaneous romance novel for you to find on purpose, but you have your suspicions.

You were in your second year of college when you met Keishin, only 20 years old at the time and clueless to any world outside of studying frantically from one exam to the next. Chasing after a degree you could pursue your dreams with and getting tattoos that would piss your parents off, you crashed into him, literally. 

While walking to class with practiced steps and flipping through a small stack of notecards, you frantically try to accomplish last minute cramming and making it to class promptly at the same time. With one final attempt to understand the scribbles in front of you, you take a sharp turn into a brick wall. A flurry of white papers thrown into the air and falling back down like snow.

It happened in a minute, a minute that held sixty of the longest seconds to ever pass; from the moment you smack your nose into his cemented chest to the moment he saves your head from kissing the ground below. “You need to watch where you’re going, kid.” He says with a cigarette pressed between his teeth. It all happened in that single minute, your soul escaping and crawling into his jacket pocket without even realizing. It’s been there ever since, for safekeeping, of course.

He’s perfect in every way. But just as he is soft and loving, Ukai is not one to take shit. Especially when his sweet, shy baby girl is being a raging brat. It’s like any normal fall afternoon, slightly chilly and crisp on your walk from class. The air is biting at your skin, but the temperature is not what sends a piercing shiver down your spine. You know that as soon as you get home, Ukai Keishin is going to ruin you. 

“What are you doing here, princess?” Your presence is made known with a soft ding from the bell above the door, but Ukai doesn't look up from his magazine when acknowledging you. 

“I live upstairs?” Your tone is light and playful. You decide to test the waters, wondering how much Keishin will let slide today.

“Don’t be dense, little one.” He graces you with his eye contact for the first time, “I know you have a Biology lecture on Friday afternoons. So, why is that cute little ass here instead of on campus?” His lips are pulled tightly in a thin line and he rakes his eyes down your body. You’re wearing a short pleated skirt and a baggie pull-over. Exactly what he picked out for you this morning. Well, almost exactly. He was already opening up the store by the time you woke up, so the clothes were placed neatly on his side of the bed. What he didn’t pick out though, were the stockings currently brandishing your mid thigh, cutting off the supple skin with the soft, black cotton. 

“Oh! My professor cancelled lecture today so I came home early to have lunch with my loving boyfriend.” You smile sweetly, dropping your backpack and rounding the corner of the counter he is sat at. Ukai hums softly- dismissively- and lights a cigarette, his eyes don’t give away any emotion, so you are left hanging off the end of the burning cherry. Has he caught on yet? Maybe the thigh-highs would be enough to distract from your real surprise. 

Before you can ruminate on the thought, a wide, kind smile spreads across his face. If you didn’t know any better, this smile would be comforting. Your boyfriend pats his lap, motioning for you to take a seat. You adjust yourself to fit snugly and lean into Keishin’s chest. He presses a chaste kiss to your temple and takes a drag from his cigarette. Customers trickle in slowly, and you stand a few times to ring up their purchases, always the dutiful girlfriend. Keishin watches you with adoration in between paging through a magazine, everything you did was so perfect, even if it’s just scanning a few groceries. Such a good girl you are. 

It’s not until you sit back down, and he adjusts your hips to settle back into him that he is made aware of the game you’re trying to play. And he is pissed.

“Princess, did you not like the clothes I picked out for you this morning?” He has fully caught on to you at this point, and you both know it, but he isn’t going to show you his hand quite yet. 

“Of course I did, Daddy.” You bury your burning cheek into his neck, letting the familiar smell of cologne and campfires calm your clambering heartbeat. 

“I see, then why are you wearing these…” Keishin’s voice trails off and pulls at the material of the thigh-highs, snapping it against your skin.  

“Actually,” he interrupts, “I have a more important question. But I need you to be a good girl and answer honestly.” Keishin whispers into the shell of your ear and nods a goodbye to the elderly man leaving the store. You two were alone now, the promise of other customers wandering in diminishing quickly with the time of day. 

“I’ll be a good girl Daddy.” You try to coat your words in velvet as best as you can, but Keishin scoffs, clearly unamused. 

“That’s rich, princess. Now tell me, did you go to campus this morning without panties on?” You knew the question he was going to pose, you could have even saved him the breath. You knew you were going to get caught, I mean, that is why you did it. But now, faced with having to atone for your sins, the confidence in your original actions was melting away. 

“I forgot to put panties on this morning, Daddy. I’m sorry.” You try to pout in the sweetest way possible, but Keishin knows. You’re lying through your teeth.

“Tsk, you forgot. How could you forget if I laid them right on top of your skirt this morning?” He fishes in his pocket and pulls out a damning article. As he moves the exhibit into evidence, light pink thong hanging off of fingers, you resolve that your little game was over long before you even tried to start. All you can do now is wait with baited breath and flushed cheeks for his next move. 

“Stand up princess.” Ukai grabs onto your hip bones and lifts you upward. He spins you around to face him and perches his elbows on his knees. “Show me what’s mine baby girl.” His request, his demand, rolls off the tongue like icicles. You know what he means, but still stare back dumbly, mouth wide at what he was insinuating.

“You know I don’t like repeating myself, little girl.” His words stir inside you. If he sees how wet you’re getting, you’re done for. There’s no escaping this moment though. You take a deep breath in a feeble fight against the suffocating feeling in your chest, and lift up the end of your short, black skirt so he can see you. All of you.

Your precious, sumptuous thighs now in his view. He studies the lines of the tattoos not covered with your stockings. Beautiful floral designs in delicate black ink. Keishin thinks the work you get done is always so beautiful. Every addition befitting you perfectly. He loves tracing the pads of his fingers over the art in softer moments. This moment though, was not soft, and the tattoos on your thighs were not the subject of Ukai’s attention. 

He flicks his eyes up to meet yours briefly, and trails down from your quivering bottom lip, to your delicate, freckled collarbones peering sweetly from your large sweater. He drags his darkening gaze down further, cherishing every inch until he reaches your hips. Nestled in between the apex of your thighs, in small, dainty writing lays his prize.

“My Daddy Will Kill You.”

No matter what you did, he would always be there, snugly under the second layer of skin. When his fingers weren’t intertwined in yours, when he couldn’t have a protective hand in your back pocket. Whenever he was away with his team for tournaments or just when you were in class. He was always on you.

“Such a gorgeous little cunt you have.” He leans back in his seat, watching you fidget under his stare, “Whose cunt is this, baby? Is it your classmates? Is it your professors?” You bow your head in shame at Ukai’s insinuation, you know that going to class with a bare ass and a short skirt was going to get you in trouble. How could you resist though, when the punishment always feels so good.

“You’ve been acting like a petulant brat recently. I’ve been letting things slide because I know how stressful your senior year of college has been.” His tone is exasperated, but his eyes are calm, level, dark, “I can’t ignore this, you know that right?”

“I know, Daddy.”

“Your class was cancelled. So that means we get to start the weekend early.” He pulls your hands from your skirt, letting it fall back into place and holds both of your hands in one of his much larger ones. “Go upstairs and sit on the bed. I want you in just your skirt and those cute little tights you were so keen on wearing. I’ll be up in a few minutes.” 

“But Daddy…” you really did like to test your luck sometimes, but the look he gives you, slightly shocked and more than lightly infuriated, was enough to make you hurry to the back and up the stairs to your shared apartment. You kick your sneakers off at the door and head straight to the bedroom. You pull the sweater over your head and unclasp your bra. Usually Keishin likes to do that step for you, savoring the way you shiver as he brushes the straps off of your shoulders, but today isn’t a day of honey-sweet ministrations. 

You tremble like a puppy as you wait for Ukai and almost jump out of your own skin when you hear the front door creek open. Usually you are met with a bellowing voice upon his entry, walking through the door with a hearty, “Honey, I’m home!” even if you had only walked in a few steps ahead. Now, all you can do is wait as he mulls about the apartment with lackadaisical intent and a deafening silence. After a few agonizing minutes and feeling like he made his point, Ukai finally appears in the doorway, arms folded and pressed tightly to his hard chest with a categorically sadistic smile on his face.

“So, you do know how to follow directions?” You gulp loudly and nod your head, but quickly correct yourself. If you don’t use your words you’ll make things worse for yourself. “Yes, Daddy. I know how to follow directions.” It’s not a lie, obviously you are aware of his rules, you just prefer breaking them. Your response is small compared to the loud, sarcastic laugh falling from his throat. Ukai steps towards you slowly. 

“You are such a little tease, I came up to kiss you goodbye this morning and found these still sitting on the bed.” He pulls the thong out of his pocket again and drops the lace into your lap. “You left them there because you wanted me to find them. You wanted me to know you were sitting in class with a bare cunt.” There’s no use trying to find an excuse to push past your locked jaw, because he’s not really asking a question. 

“I left them on purpose, Daddy. I’m sorry.” Your mea culpa is underwhelming to say the least, and you both know it. You may be pleading guilty to all charges, but you don’t seem eager for absolution. 

“You are such a little attention whore. My timid, darling girl has been acting like an insolent slut recently. What am I going to do with you?” His voice sounds questioning, but unmistakingly rhetorical. He’s known what he was going to do to you from the moment he spotted your panties weighing the bed down this morning.

“Turn around baby.” Ukai unbuckles his belt, and you turn away from him, tucking your legs to sit upright. He gathers your long h/c hair from where it was settled around your face and meticulously braids it to lay flat on your back, attaching the green scrunchy from his wrist to the bottom. 

Just like a calling card, Keishin always had a scrunchy of yours around his wrist. Whenever you are hunched over the kitchen table in the middle of writing a paper, he pulls your hair behind you and fastens it into a bun, careful to keep it loose so as to not invite a headache, and kisses the crown of your head. Regardless of where you are: shopping, date night, visiting him at practice, if he notices your hair becoming annoying he will slip it from your neck and twist it into the green scrunchy.

And when you are about to be punished, Ukai pulls your hair into a neat, low braid.

You feel him run his hands from your shoulders to your wrists, pulling them gently behind your back. He presses your palms together and gives them a squeeze so you know to keep them together. Ukai pulls off his shirt, and  frees his undone belt from his jeans, folding it in half and running the cool leather up your thigh. He swats softly at your skin, just enough to make you flinch. 

Ukai tosses the belt to the ground, deciding he would rather you feel the sting of his palm, and sits down next to you on the bed. You face him with your hands still laced together behind you and let him position you to lay across his lap. The side of your face and your shoulders lay flush against the bed and your ass is raised up above his jean-clad thighs. 

“You know the rules, right my love?”

“Yes, Daddy. If I lose count you have to start over.”

“There’s my smart girl. You look so beautiful like this.” He lands a smack on your right cheek, actions greatly contrasting his soft, almost taunting tone. “It’s such a shame you’ve been acting like such a whore.” 

He delivers slap after slap on your bruising ass and you count every one out to him, briefly considering what would happen if you stopped counting, but you know that your punishment is already going to be harsh enough. You’re a masochist, yes, but not an idiot. 

“Why do you always seem to be on your best behavior when I have you over my knee, darling?” Ukai connects his palm with your tender flesh again. “How many was that baby?” 

“Fifteen, Daddy.” You speak in an even tone, if your boyfriend catches on to how much more you like this than he already knows, you’re, quite literally, fucked. 

“You really know how to play me, baby. I’m always wrapped around your little finger.” He starts to knead your ass cheek with his large hand, skimming the tips of his digits against your wanton cunt. He’s testing you, wanting to see if you’ll start squirming or unclasp your hands from their position behind your back, but you hold steady.

“You leave me naughty little surprises. I had you on my mind all day, thinking about this naked little pussy walking around campus. One tiny slip and you would have shown everyone what’s mine.” Another sharp swat to your butt reverberates through the room and you can barely mumble out your counted response. 

“But that’s what you wanted isn’t it? You wanted everyone to see this slutty pussy of yours didn’t you?” Whether that was the truth or not doesn't actually matter, you know not to make an excuse. You are just meant to count and thank. 

“You need to stop squirming, princess, or you’re going to royally piss me off.” Ukai continues his relentless pace, two thick fingers pistoning deep in your dripping pussy. This was one of Ukai’s favorite games, finger-fucking you to the point of the bed under you slamming into the wall. Your job was to keep completely still. One arch of your back or escaped moan and he would land a sharp slap to your puffy, untended clit. 

He’s actually being quite generous despite the circumstances. Usually, you would be propped on your hands and knees, but Ukai has laid you flat on your back with one leg tossed over his broad shoulder. The position, while easier to keep your body still, does mean that Ukai’s piercing, hungry gaze has you pinned like prey under him. The completely pornografic sounds of his fingers are making your head spin. The fact that he’s been hammering his fingers relentlessly into your g-spot for an hour, is starting to make your mind foggy, all thoughts are starting to slip from your brain and your boyfriend can tell.

“God, baby, I love making you absolutely stupid for me. I bet all you can think about is my cock filling this little cunt up, huh?” His words are sneering, taunting. Your response is a babbled agreement and plea for his cock, and the sight of you so completely fucked out makes the bulge in his jeans strain even further. The feeling of his fingers in your squelching pussy is dulling all other senses, so when he pulls the digits away, you can’t help the cry that rips from the back of your throat. 

“Don’t worry, precious girl, I’m going to give you what you want. What you’re fucking desperate for.” Ukai pushes himself from the bed and removes his jeans and boxers, and you watch as his thick cock springs free to slap against his abdomen. The sound makes you mewl, your cunt clenching in anticipation. 

As Ukai crawls back onto your shared bed, his head dips down in between your legs. He licks, flat and languid across your slit, collecting your arousal on his tongue with a feral groan.

“Please, Daddy. Please fuck me. I- I need you. Wa- want to be your good girl.” You find your words as best as you can to beg for him, the sweet cadence of your voice and the way your weak arms reach out for his messy bleached hair signals to him that you’ve fallen completely into a foggy, submissive haze. You tug lightly at the tresses and the impressive self-control he has kept up thus far snaps like plywood under a heavy boot. 

Ukai takes one more deep, hungry lick at your soaking pussy and sits up, pushing your legs further apart, digging his nails into the soft skin under your knees. 

“Open your mouth, Princess.” You are quick to comply with his request, sticking your tongue out and looking up at him through your lashes. You hear the sound of him spitting, his saliva and your arousal coats the thickest plane of your tongue, but connecting one thought to the next becomes impossible as Ukai pushes his thick cock into you at the same time.

“Jesus Christ, no matter how much time I take to get you ready you’re still so tight. God, you make it really hard to stay mad at you.” His hands keep your legs pressed up to your chest, pushing his thick cock into you at an agonizingly lazy pace. Ukai was right, it didn’t matter that he had finger-fucked you into the mattress for an hour, taking him was a tight fit every time. As he buries himself in you, the intoxicating burn of being so full takes all of the air out of your chest. His thick cock stretches you so far, you swear he can feel your own heartbeat within the walls of your tiny cunt. He’s barely halfway into you and you can’t help but constrict, the tinny flavor of your orgasm crawling up from your spine to your mouth. 

“There’s no way I’m letting you cum already.” Ukai snickered sadistically, thumb brushing across your tattoo, the dirty secret you shared, right over where you need his fingers most. He wasn’t going to touch your deprived clit yet, and hoping for him to do so was a waste of energy. 

“I’m sorry Daddy. I promise, I’ll be good.” Your tears are rolling down the side of your face, wetting the sheet next to you. 

“You’re a pathetic mess and I’m not even all the way in you yet. I would save the tears if I were you, babydoll.” You try to compose yourself, but Ukai’s words of dismissive degradation give your whimpers more body, sobbing and babbling as his cock bottoms out. 

You can feel every inch of him, hard and thick and so so full inside of you. Ukai pulls out of you completely, his soaking tip rubbing on your labia before slamming back in to the hilt. His pace becomes brutal with every thrust, original slow pace completely unknown to you now. There’s no way you're going to be able to stand properly after this. 

“Daddy, please. Please let me cum. Need to cum, Daddy. Need to be your good girl.” A series of calls for your daddy and prayerful begs are the only things you know at this point, drool and tears covering your face.

“You know what, Princess? I bet I could make you cum with just one touch to that little clit.” Ukai takes one hand off of your thigh and hovers over where you have needed him since you woke up this morning. “If I’m right, I’ll make you cum again. If I’m wrong, you’re not gonna cum at all.”

You can feel the warmth of his finger looming over the neglected bud, the anticipation is overwhelming and cruel, but all worth it as soon as he pushes the rough pad of his thumb down. Ukai presses a single, taught circle into your clit and the coil wound tightly in your stomach snaps with incredible force. You know there is a scream that rips from your dry mouth, but you can’t hear it with the blood rushing through your ears. Ukai works you through your first orgasm, stilling his thrusts as until you come floating back down.

“I know this slutty little cunt better than the back of my hand. Now, my precious little thing,” You watch as Ukai hooks your limp legs over his shoulders, lining his throbbing cock back to your slopping entrance. “Let’s do that a couple more times.”

“Wise men say, only fools rush in. But I can’t help, falling in love with you.”

You feel your senses coming back to you slowly, with every delicate touch Keishin glides over your skin. He pulls you back to reality with sweet touches and the deep, gravely sound of his voice. After several meticulous moments and even more words of praise, Kei delivers a delicate kiss to your forehead and carries you to the shower. You take a deep, relaxed sigh as he massages your aching muscles under the hot water. After drying your exhausted body with a fluffy towel, Keishin helps you into a comfy pair of leggings and one of his sweatshirts. 

“Take my hand. Take my whole heart too.” Your boyfriend’s broad arms wrap around your waist, hands finding purchase under the orange sweatshirt currently drowning your form, and you melt into his chest. “Because I can’t help, falling in love with you.” You turn around in his arms to steal a kiss, but as your lips attach to his a small laugh bubbles up from your stomach. 

“What are you giggling at?” Keishin eyes you curiously, and you start laughing even harder.

“Oh nothing, I was just thinking about the bloody nose you gave me when we first met.” You cackle at the memory and feel Keishin take an exasperated but amused sigh, joining your laughter with his own.

“First of all, Princess, you ran into me.”

all writing is dymphnasprose’s original content, please do not repost or modify. do no read my content as asmr.©️

[nev3rfound]

blame it on the neighbours : b.b

having recently moved in next door, you and bucky become fast friends. however, there's something looming between the two of you and it comes to light when it's revealed you're in the hospital. (1.7k)

masterlist / permanent taglist / etsy shop - requests open!

requested: yes! by the very sweet @didsomeonesaybucky warnings: bucky freaking out if that counts? descriptions of hospitals

(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website without being credited, it has not been approved to be shared by me. all rights reserved.)

Ever since you moved in and became Bucky's next-door neighbour, he could tell things were going to be different. In the first instance, he could hear you in the corridor, chatting away happily to your other neighbours, offering baked goods. He watched cautiously through the peephole, still having to yet meet you, he merely observed from afar.

When he finally met you, it wasn't the interaction he quite hoped for.

Standing in front of his door with a tray of cookies in hand, you release a shaky breath having heard from your other neighbours that the occupant in apartment 4F wasn't the friendliest. But you would simply have to judge that for yourself, you told them.

"He's a bit of a strange one, dear." Your neighbour, Clarissa in 2F warned you as she accepted the container of muffins you had made that morning. "Doesn't really leave or go out much, I think I've only ever heard him say morning once in the six months he's been here!" Her words echo in the back of your mind as you lift your hand up, knuckles lightly tapping the door.

With wide eyes, Bucky hesitantly walks toward the door and stares straight through the peephole. His breath halters, watching as you stare down at your feet.

Taking a deep breath, Bucky glides his fingers over the several locks across his door and slides through the small gap in the doorway with an attempted smile gracing his lips.

"Hi," You start, now lifting your eyes up toward this mysterious neighbour who is definitely not what you anticipated. "I, I'm Y/n, I moved in next door a week ago," Motioning to your apartment, Bucky forces his eyes to glance across down the hall before averting them back to you, taking in your features up close as you rub your lips together.

"Yeah, I heard you moving in." Bucky comments, internally cringing at his choice of wording. "I mean, I," His words falter at the sound of you chuckling softly to yourself. "can I start again? Is that alright?" He asks, grateful that you nod. "It's nice to meet you, Y/n. I'm James."

"Well, it's lovely to know my other neighbour, James. I, these are for you." Thrusting the tray forward, Bucky pushes his door open further with his foot to accept the tray, forgetting he didn't have his glove on.

Your eyes wander down to see his left arm is entirely metal. "Thanks." He mutters, feeling your eyes burning into his arm.

"I'm sorry," You quickly say, looking up at his face. "it's rude to stare, my Mom would scold me if she were here right now."

Bucky shakes his head, moving his leg to catch the back of the door. "Don't worry 'bout it." He brushes it off, but he notices your eyes wandering around the bland corridor and your lips parting.

"You don't happen to know any good places for dinner 'round here?" You move the conversation on, causing Bucky to raise a brow in response. "I'm kinda new to the area and I was wondering if you knew any good spots." You shrug your shoulders, hoping he couldn't read your mind and know that sentence was a complete lie.

"Erm, yeah." He sheepishly tells you, hearing Doctor Raynor droning in the back of his mind about putting himself out there, and not on those godforsaken dating apps again. "There's a great sushi place I know of."

Your smile brightens at his suggestion, and Bucky can't ignore how his lips rise at the sight. "Great, wanna join me then since you know it so well?" You suggest nonchalantly. "And you can always enjoy those as a dessert afterwards."

Looking down at the tray of warm cookies, Bucky tries to hide the sound of his stomach grumbling against the tray.

"Sure," He reaches into his apartment, grabbing his things including his gloves before following you out. "so, what brings you to Brooklyn?"

*

It's been several months since you moved in next door, and Bucky couldn't be happier that you plucked up the courage to knock that day.

Every week you two hang out, sometimes you join him and Yori for lunch who spends most of the time trying to convince Bucky to ask you out (only to be scolded when you're absent.) Sometimes you'll cook dinner, dance around your apartment and watch movies or wander around the city whilst Bucky tells you old stories; just like normal friends do, right?

It was truly blissful, but there was still so much about each other you had yet to learn.

Running his fingers through his combed hair, Bucky tugs on his blue henley before heading out.

As he locks his front door, he carries out dinner that he promised to make for you tonight.

"Oh, James." Your neighbour in 2F, Clarissa, stands in front of her door with her handbag and walking stick.

"Hi, Clarissa." Bucky forces a small smile, having heard her conversations regarding his past, muttering about having a murderer in the building shouldn't be allowed.

"Heading into Y/n's I take it." She hums, eyeing him carefully as he nods in response. "She should be back later, told me she had to go to the hospital." Waving herself off, Clarissa turns the lock in her doors.

"The hospital?" Bucky speaks up as the containers in his hands begin to slip, his mind going a hundred miles an hour. "Y/n's in the hospital?" Trying not to yell, Bucky steps closer, causing Clarissa to clutch her handbag tightly in front of her chest.

"Yes," Clarissa states calmly, but Bucky notices the keys in her right hand begin to shake.

"Thanks." Bucky mutters, stepping away as he darts back into his own apartment and grabs his coat, barely able to process his thoughts before rushing down the stairwell with nothing but you on his mind.

Reaching the entrance to the hospital, Bucky hands the driver some money without any words being exchanged. Bucky knew he looked like hell; he couldn't focus properly on anything. He had only seen you last night, the two of you in his apartment painting his living room walls, laughing together as you accidentally flicked paint across his cheek.

The reception area was crowded, voices bounced from wall to wall as Bucky strode toward the desk where a woman sat, staring blankly at a screen.

"How can I help?" She asks, briefly glancing up at Bucky before focusing on her screen once more.

Suddenly lost for words, Bucky homes in on a man crying in the waiting area, loudly sobbing into his hands as a nurse stands over him.

"Y/n Y/l/n, I'm looking for Y/n." Bucky forces the words out as the Nurse simply nods whilst typing away, humming a tune to herself.

"Oh okay," The Nurse pauses as her eyes scan over the monitor.

Clutching the edge of the desk, Bucky can hear the plates in his metal arm whirring as his grip tightens, nearly tearing the panel off as the silence becomes insufferable.

"So Y/n is currently in the operating theatre." The nurse tells Bucky nonchalantly, glancing up to see something change in his expression.

"No," Shaking his head, Bucky steps back. "she, I, I we were going to have dinner." It sounds pathetic to him, saying it aloud. But seeing you, having any moment with you made him feel human again, almost normal.

"Yeah, crazy how schedules fall." A heavy sigh leaves the nurses lips, unaware of the cool gaze that is locking in on her.

"Do you know when she'll be-" Before Bucky can finish his sentence, he's caught off guard by someone calling his name from the corridor.

"James?" You chuckle, walking toward him wearing your uniform adorned with your badge.

"Doll?" Bucky stutters, stepping closer as he tries to stop the tears in his eyes from forming. "You, you're okay?" He mumbles, looking you over, keeping his hands on your arms.

"Why wouldn't I be?" You ask, evidently surprised. "Everything okay, James?" Lowering your voice, you peer down to look him in the eyes whilst his head hangs low.

"Clarissa said you were in the hospital." Bucky huffs in annoyance to himself. "I, I didn't put it together," He mumbles. "I forgot that you,"

"That I'm a Doctor?" Holding back the laugh in your throat, you sigh before tugging Bucky closer into your embrace. "I'm okay, James. I'm only sorry you came all this way."

Keeping you in his arms, Bucky doesn't want to let go. Whilst your face rests in the crook of his neck, he allows a few stray tears to fall in relief. "I, I made us dinner." He eventually says, feeling you pull back to look at him, your eyes softening at the trails left on his cheeks.

"Oh, James." Raising your hand, you cup his cheek. "I'll be off work in an hour. I'm so sorry I should've said something or let you know sooner."

Shaking his head, Bucky takes your hand from his cheek and runs his fingers over your knuckles. "Don't worry 'bout it, Y/n. I'm just glad you're safe." He tells you, wishing he could say something else, but for now, that was enough.

"Did you make,- Your eyes light up in excitement, but Bucky cuts you off before you can finish your sentence.

"Yep." Bucky chuckles as you do a little dance. "You're such a dork sometimes, doll."

"Yeah," You admit, slipping your hand from his as you bury them in your pockets. "but would you have me any other way, neighbour?" Raising a brow to him, Bucky shakes his head. "Thought as much."

"I'll keep dinner warm for you." He smiles, hearing the word neighbour circle his thoughts. Yet, for once, Bucky forces his intrusive thoughts aside as his lips brush across your forehead. "Be good, Doc." He can't help but laugh to himself at the sound of your heart beating rapidly whilst externally, you remain cool.

"I'll try my best, Barnes." You salute him, watching as he walks back out of the hospital, knowing he's one step closer to calling you his girl.

t a g l i s t (thank you for the support!) link in my bio and at the top of this piece to add yourself☺️(if your user isn’t tagged, it’s because nothing comes up sorry!)

@bissstuff @psychicforest@lourightm@mywinterwolf@justsomedreaming @stanlux17 @smokeandnailz @supermoonchildbroski @xrosegoldwolfx@courtneychicken@marvelsangels@supraveng@tommy-lee-81@smilexcaptainx@fandom-princess-forevermore@sarge-barnes-sir@pleasantlysecretdream @decaffeinated-fangirl @howdyherron @kirby-boo @florencxs@eldahae @handmesomecoffee @hi-my-name-is-riley @dev1lbella @thanossexual @alissaginger @sambucky8@notbrooklynsblog @nikkixostan @cosmiccaptian @adoreyou976@sarcasticallywitty15 @multi-fandom-princess07 @16boyfriends-and-me @courtneychicken @mackevanstan80 @torchwoodoctor @pleasantlysecretdream @yougottalovefandoms @magicalxdaydream@soccer-100000 @tenaciousperfectionunkown @talksoprettyjjx @btsonthedaily @jessyballet @katiaw2 @buckyswildflower@lucrea @weenersoldierr @katiaw2 @lucrea @amelia-song-pond @bluelakeee @dottirose @emilytheukuleleplayer @5-seconds-of-mendes @rudystilins  @bookfrog242@wild-rose-35@fleurlovesbucky@iiclarixa @soldierstucky@twinerd14@lieswithoutfairytales@ateliefloresdaprimavera@teenwonder@weenersoldierr@nobody-will @ilikemypolarbear @rottenstyx @original-in-itself @sebby-staan @bbl32 @lyoongx @iilwjbb @siriuslyslytherin @chazubagi @youngmarveltastypersona

[fatefulfaerie]

Answering The Asks I Didn’t Get Because These Are Awesome Questions!

😅 What's a story or scene you've created that you're a smidge embarrassed exists?

Open Your Eyes

It’s so bad it hurts. It was the first Zelda fanfic I ever wrote and hoo boy I could barely read the first “chapter” just now

🥺 Is there a certain type of moment or common interaction between your characters that never fails to put you in your feels?

Love confessions! I swoon!

🤡 What's a line, scene, or exchange you've written that made you laugh?

“Welcome to Baumer Inn,” the young woman said to the completely drenched pair of people that approached her desk. “How may I help you?”

“We’d like a room,” Link said.

“Alright,” the young woman said, scanning a large book with all sorts of markings. “Double or single?”

Link said “Single” at the exact same time Zelda said “Double”, the accident making them look at each other and making the young woman look up from the book, her gaze alternating between them.

“There’s no use in taking a double if I’ll be keeping watch the whole time,” Link argued.

“That’s where you are wrong,” Zelda said in reply. “Because you won’t be keeping watch, you will be sleeping and resting in a bed.” Zelda looked to the receptionist and said. “A double, please.”

“It’s my job to protect you,” Link insisted, before also looking to the receptionist who, after crossing out what she thought their final answer was, now sat in wait for them to come to an agreement. “Put us down for a single.”

Zelda’s head shot to Link, her hands on her hips.

“Who among us is royalty?” She asked with a brooding frustration.

“Is it not me?” Link asked rhetorically and quite sarcastically.

Zelda straightened her arms and balled her fists.

“You absolute…” Link raised a brow as she sputtered through her anger. “Disrespectful...ill-mannered...sea urchin!”

“Sea urchin, huh?” Link asked rhetorically.

“Are you sure you guys don’t want to agree on the single?” the receptionist said, interrupting Zelda’s inhale. “Seems like all you need is to pound things out.”

Zelda widened her eyes at what she just heard, and Link reacted similarly, his mouth popped open at just the insinuation. He cleared his throat and pulled rupees from his pouch that he tossed onto the desk.

“The double will do fine.”

“As you wish,” the young woman said, handing Link the key, “room twelve.”

Link nodded and began to walk up the wooden stairs. They kept silent until the door latched close behind them.

From Chapter 28 of In Calamity’s Grasp

😈 Has there been a point in a story where you did something just to be playfully mean to your readers?

I was way too excited about the ending twist in Ten Thousand Years Ago let’s just say that...

✍ Do you have a beta reader?

No, but I’d like one! No one has ever shown interest but then again I’ve never asked? I don’t want to be a bother 🥺

🛒 What are some common things you incorporate in your fics? Themes, feels, scenes, imagery, etc.

I try to incorporate imagery bit sometimes I get so lost in the dialogue I forget! I definitely incorporate a lot of romance and squabbling about misunderstandings. I also put my characters through a lot of trauma and difficult decisions to inspire empathy and deep thought, respectively, in my readers.

🎢 Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?

A Moment Beyond

✨ Give you and your writing a compliment. Go on now. You know you deserve it. 😉

I do...good?

💋 First kiss fics. Love em or hate em?

I think if you are reading this, you already know the answer.

🎶 Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?

I do! Music is one of my biggest inspirations. Lately I’ve been listening to this playlist!

🛠What tools/programs/apps do you use to write?

Google docs, Scrivener, my fingies, and my sometimes working keyboard. Sometimes I use my phone if I NEED TO GET SOMETHING DOWN and I’ve been using pen and paper for my poetry lately.

⛔ Do you have a fic you started, but scrapped?

There was a time travel one I’m not gonna touch and then a couple I’m just gonna do as oneshots. Oh yeah and thing I scrapped when Age of Calamity was announced…

🙋‍♀️ Do any irl people know you write fanfic?

Yes! Many of my Zelda Dungeon friends as well as my parents and close friends. Also some of my cousins. I used to be a lot more ashamed of it but now I feel like everyone knows.

🍦 What's the sweetest fic you've created so far?

A Tender Moment

🍷 Do you drink and write?

I don’t drink alcohol at all actually. It just doesn’t taste good and even if it did my medication reacts badly. As far as drinking in general I probably need to drink a lot more water have I drank any today?

🍆 Do you write the spicy stuffs? If so, what's your most popular nsfw fic?

Not really because I still have ✨0 frame of reference✨ so this is the spiciest thing I’ve written: Moonlit

🌞 Do you have a preferred time of day to write?

Not really just whenever I’m feeling it

💌 How do you feel about comments and feedback?

More. Please give me more.

❌ What's a trope you will never write?

Sex scenessss

Cause I have no idea how that works

💲 Would you ever open commissions?

I want my content to be accessible to everyone with an internet connection. A lot of stupid things are behind a paywall and I want my content to serve as art, education, and entertainment. Additionally, writing fanfiction is enough of a legal grey area without getting money involved.

🏆 What's your most popular fic?

In Calamity’s Grasp has the most activity but I can’t take full credit or even any more than a third of the credit on that because my co-authors @pastelsandpining and @aurathian ABSOLUTELY KILLED IT.

The next one after that is Honesty

🎃 Do you write fics for certain holidays? Which is your favorite holiday inspired fic?

I do sometimes! My favorite is Disguise

🎯 Have any of your readers accurately guessed major plot points? Care to share which?

I don’t think so? Unless they just didn’t tell me they did

🎨 How do you feel about fan art of your stories?

More. Please give me more.

📈 How many fics do you have?

Mathematical measures do not operate in such terms

🦅 Do you outline fics or fly by the seat of your pants?

Both?

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

Uhh...cows?

😈

🤗 What advice would you give to new fanfic writers that are just getting started?

Don’t be afraid to put yourself out there and get hurt, it’s part of it! And never let anyone else (even yourself) stifle the eternities that your imagination can stretch. Oh and don’t be too hard on yourself when you hit snags or get burnt out! Also drink water! Also I love you!

🤩 Who is your favorite character to write?

🤲 Would you please share a snippet of a wip?

Link was just sitting at the shore, near a pitched tent and a campfire, looking out at how the sun dawned. Grante stared a tad before he braved walking forward. 

“I didn’t know I was selling clothes to the Hero of Hyrule,” Grante said once he got close enough for Link to hear him, the half-Sheikah half-Hylian crossing his arms. Link looked behind him to see who it was, and was seemingly unimpressed, turning back to face the sea.

“I’d prefer not to be called that,” was all Link said.

😬 Which of your fics would you be most horrified for friends, family, or coworkers to stumble upon?

Open Your Eyes just because it’s so distant from how much I’ve grown as a writer

🎉 What leads you to consider a fic a success?

Unfortunately, traction. I’ve gotten better over the years at not letting numbers get in my head too much but still a bit yeah

✅ What's something that appears in your fics over and over and over again, even if you don't mean to?

Zelink undertones

📚 Would you ever want to turn writing into a career?

I’m currently pursuing an MFA in creative writing so god I hope so. Ideally I’d love to either be a novelist or be in the writing room at Disney or Nintendo!

Wait maybe I should learn Japanese

💔 Is there a fic of yours that broke your heart?

A Moment Beyond just because there are some scenes that hurt so GOOD

💥 How do you feel about criticism?

More. Please give me more.

🤭 Do you have a favorite tag to use when posting your works?

#totk

🥰 How do you feel about reader interaction? Are you open to receiving questions about your fics?

More. Please give me more.

[fandom-monium]

i finished for the holidays and i just *chefs kiss* beautiful talented amazing sajkgdkj no words i love that romance wasnt even the main point 🥺💘 anyway i love how you write reader and i wondered between her and spencer who gets jealous???

Unrivaled

Summary: In which you seem pretty close with the new intern, and Spencer is not happy about it. (ft. one of my fave white bois) “Have I ever told you how much I value your friendship?"

WC: 3.6k

Tags/Warnings: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader, fluff, cussing, Jealous!Spencer bc id like to see that, established relationships (blegh), Garvez if you squint, the lightest implication of smut ever, points to yall who can guess who the intern is before reading the end or the tags 😉

—

Spencer is not jealous. He’s not.

Why would he be? 

He has no reason to be jealous, Spencer chants to himself as he sits at his desk. Even from across the bullpen he still manages to hear your voice, and while normally it’s music to his ears, even better than Mozart, now it just feels like nails against a chalkboard. Grating his eardrums, making him wince.

Because you’re laughing. Not with Spencer though. Not at his obscure references or lame jokes.

With the new intern.

Why did Emily have to put you in charge of him? She could’ve chosen anyone on the team to have him shadow, but it had to be you! Not that you’re incapable or unqualified; you’re experienced, talented, and the best person he knows. 

… Okay, he can see why she picked you.

Why do they even have interns? Unnecessary, really, when the BAU has you and him and he guesses the other teams too (it’s weird, he’s never actually interacted with them but whatever). Maybe it’s time to start making budget cuts. He’ll discuss this with Emily when he gets the chance. He’s got some influence, working at the BAU as long as he has.

But he’s not jealous. 

Logically, jealousy (like an intern) is unnecessary. The green-eyed monster (like an intern) is ugly and contributes nothing productive, and if Spencer’s being honest, the world (like an intern) would be much better off without it.

At least that’s what he keeps telling himself as he downs his coffee like a shot of whiskey, trying to quell the squirming beast in him. Despite 90% of it being sugar, it still tastes bitter. He sets his mug down with a thud, and it’s loud enough to make Luke, Garcia, and JJ turn their heads, exchanging concerned glances when he slumps back in his chair.

Spencer doesn’t care. The world’s ending; you’re apparently into younger guys, with neat dark hair and forearms that can probably snap someone’s neck, and he can’t do anything about it. What does it matter if his best friends catch him in a sour mood, right?

“Hey, Spence,” JJ's tone is soft as they slink over, Garcia and Luke leaning against the edge of his desk and JJ flanking the other side. “You alright?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Spencer gazes past them, his eyes never leaving you. He deflates; your stance is relaxed, completely open as you nod at whatever Intern is saying, his hands gesturing spastically. It must be interesting, the way you listen with rapt attention and respond just as enthusiastic.

Spencer scoffs. Not like that’s anything special. You do the same for him. And the rest of the team.

...What the hell are you guys talking about? 

“Well, you look like you’re about to throw your mug across the room. Or at an intern.”

Spencer blinks, finally breaking away from you long enough to eye the ceramic octopus. “That’s a good idea actually.”

“Don’t,” Garcia and JJ both shoot him a warning and he huffs, resting his chin in his hand. Garcia looks horrified, betrayed even while JJ has that expression on, the one she gives when she scolds Henry and Michael.

Whatever. It’s not like he’d ever sacrifice Mildred. Garcia entrusted her to him, after all. 

Unless...?

No, he couldn’t… Maybe.

“You know, Reid, if you’re jealous—”

Spencer snaps his head to Garcia, eyes wide and darting to you like you have super-hearing, “Jealous? Who’s jealous? Not me.” He cringes, his voice octaves higher and cracking like a prepubescent boy.

Garcia snorts, “Okay, sure. But if you are jealous, I was going to say you have no reason to be. You wanna know why?” Spencer raises an eyebrow at her and she continues, “Sure the guy’s smart enough to get a full-ride scholarship at GWU, and he’s top of his class at the academy—”

“Is this supposed to make me feel better?”

"And he’s one of the most good looking guys I've ever met—”

"How is that relevant—"

Luke frowns at her. "And have you met me?"

“My point is,” Garcia’s red lipstick curls into the most reassuring smile, “that you have nothing to worry about because (Your Name) loves you. A lot.” 

Spencer perks up. “You really think so?”

“I know so. I see the way they look at you, and if that’s not love I don’t know what is," She shrugs, "And just because they’re talking doesn’t mean they’re into him.”

There's a collective nod of agreement and Spencer sags in relief. Of course they're right. He knows they are. 

If you think about it, technically, he's got the advantage. You've known each other longer, bonded and shared experiences together good and bad, and you’re emotionally and even physically intimate with each other (something he's especially proud of, considering how long it takes you both to warm up to others).

And who knows? This is probably temporary! Whatever this is, the connection you seem to instantly make with Intern (faster than when you two had met, he realizes with a needle to his heart) is short-term at best. It'll peter out eventually, like most friendships do.

It’s sad, but a cruel fact of life.

(Is this selfish, wishful thinking? Nah.)

They’re right, there is no need to worry, Spencer thinks as a weight lifts off his chest, finally able to breathe. You love him and he loves you and eventually, everything will go back to normal. 

There’s nothing to worry about.

—

The world’s ending.

“It’s really not.”

Yes, it is.

“Doc, come on.”

“Do not ‘Doc’ me,” Spencer grumbles, lifting his head from the comfort of his arms. He grimaces at Luke. “You didn’t see the way they looked at him. The way they talk about him.”

Two weeks. It’s been two weeks since you’ve taken Intern under your wing, and he’s had enough. If Hell is real, this is it. For days, he’s tried to resume some form of normalcy, and he was never one to be bold but desperate times call for desperate measures as he asks you out for lunch or invites you out on dates, even stuff he wouldn’t normally do because they’re more your thing. Something, anything to get you away from Intern. But...

At work: “Hey Spence, I'm teaching Intern (menial task that a 4 year old could do). Would you like to help—”

During break: “I’m taking Intern out for lunch. He’s still new to town, and I thought he could use a tour—”

In bed: “Did you know Intern’s a huge fan of Star Wars—”

Snap, and there went his patience.

Intern this, Intern that. 

Spencer could tolerate this at work. At least he’s saving lives, being productive, getting paid. But under his roof? In his bed? 

That was the last straw.

Spencer's not one to wish ill on another, he's not like that. But if something happened to the guy, say, get injured in the field, perhaps from a "stray" bullet, he'd be intern-ally grateful. Heh. 

"Hey, you good?"

Spencer sighs, swiping a hand over his face and turning back to Luke. "Yeah, why?"

Luke waves a hand at his face, eyebrow raised, "For a second there, you kind of had a scary look on your face."

"Did I? Weird."

"Right," Clearly unconvinced, Luke brushes it off, deciding to get to the root of the matter. "As I was saying, I still think you have nothing to worry about. Although, I do think it's a little weird that (Your Name) is talking about Intern as much as you say they are." He offers Spencer a little smile, his hand falling heavy on his shoulder. It's the most comforting touch he's had in two weeks. "I'm not one to talk, but I suggest you speak to them. I'd also be uncomfortable if my partner were talking up someone else."

Spencer blinks, squints at Luke, before gripping his hand and standing up. "Have I ever told you how much I value your friendship?"

"You can stand to mention it more often," Luke shrugs, eyes crinkling with amusement as Spencer lets go and heads for the door. 

"Noted."

—

Spencer nearly goes feral when he finds you.

Of course you're with him.

He searched the floor like a bloodhound, discovering you've been on your feet almost the entire day, running around the office, up and down the elevators, finishing your work and helping around. You must be exhausted. It's because of this he tracks you to your favorite break room, mostly quiet save for the buzzing drip of the old coffeemaker. He knows you need to be alone sometimes, recharge those social batteries.

So when he bursts into the room like he would hunting an unsub, eyes quickly scanning the immediate space, he expects nothing less but you. What he did not anticipate was to find you, just as soft and pretty as ever under the fluorescent lighting, leaning against the counter and sipping daintily at your favorite mug. 

With Intern standing a little too close to his liking.

“Hey, Spencer,” You chirp as you lower your coffee mug, lips glossy from your drink. Spencer's quick to shake his stupor―he can’t afford to be distracted, but it’s difficult when you’re beaming at him, clearly excited. You nod at the home-wrecker, “Me and Intern here were just talking about demonology and he’s got this interesting theory on werewolves―" Lycanthropy? Are you fucking kidding him right now? 

Just when he thought he couldn't hate the guy any more.

"CanItalktoyou?" It comes out rushed as Spencer gasps between breaths, leaving no room to second guess himself.

"Sure," You blink at his urgent tone.

For a second, you watch him expectantly, and Spencer's gaze darts between you and Intern. "Alone?"

"Oh! Okay. Be gone," You wave Intern off, and when you place a hand on his shoulder, Spencer sees red. Or green in this case.

Intern doesn't resist, but the noise Spencer releases is animalistic because the guy can’t seem to read the room, questioning you as you gently shove him towards the door. "What about the thing―"

"We'll talk about that later."

"But you still need to show me how to―"

"Don't worry, Intern. Just wait for me, I'll show you once the adults are done talking."

"You know at some point you're gonna have to call me by my name." 

"Nah. If we get to call Luke a newbie, we get to call you Intern. Also I do not know how to say your first name."

 "You could just call me St―"

Enough of this. Spencer closes the last stretch of distance, batting your hand away from Intern’s shoulders as he kicks him out himself, slamming the door in his face. Spencer turns on his heel to face you, caging you both. “You―” He pants, chest heaving for air.

“Me?”

“You-him-we―”

You’re unfazed, simply nodding at him and his odd behavior. If anything, you’re enjoying this as your lips twitch in a poor attempt to withhold your amusement, trying to cover it with a slurp of your cup. Then again, it’s not everyday you get to see Spencer, face flushed from exertion, speechless as he gasps for breath.

(At least not at work… In the break room specifically.)

It takes a minute as Spencer swallows a few times, but his heart’s erratic and it’s not just from running through the entire building. When he’s got enough air, he blurts out, “Did I do something?”

Your brow shoots up. “What?”

“Did I forget something important? Upset you in some way?”

“No? I don’t think so?” You frown at him, your answers more like questions. 

It only spurs him on, and though his tone is frantic and his eyes just as wild as his hair, you’re more intrigued than frightened. Definitely confused.

“Okay, but you know I love you, right?”

“Yes and I love you too but Spence, what’s this about?" Setting down your mug, you look at him like he's grown another head.

Spencer sighs, "I just… you…" He frowns, glancing between you, the floor, and the empty space between you. 

Spencer Reid is a man of words. Many, many words, according to all his friends and his coworkers. Mainly knowledge―he's never been great with feelings―but as you gaze at him, patiently waiting for him to gather his thoughts, he wants to melt into the floor. There's not a hint of annoyance on your features, your eyes warm and inviting. 

He's so in love with you.

Then like scripture the words come, natural without much stuttering or hesitancy. He recounts the last two weeks. The internship so far, the times you've left Spencer behind for him, the times you just talked about him, like the guy (practically a stranger) is your new best friend. Usually, pretty people make him tongue-tied and you do―god, you do―but at the same time only you make it so easy. Talking, expressing without fear of―

"Pfft―"

―Judgement. Pausing mid-sentence, Spencer gawks as your nose twitches and your blink rate increases. You purse your lips, a hand slapped over your mouth as it threatens to break out into a grin.

"Are you-are you laughing right now?" When he just poured his feelings out to you? 

That does it. You keel over, peels of laughter coming like a tsunami, crashing into him and Spencer loves your laugh but not when it's at him. 

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I shouldn't be laughing," you wheeze, gripping your stomach. Spencer pouts. There's even tears in your eyes. "But you're telling me this is all because you're jealous?"

He stutters, "Well-I-no-It’s just…" He wants to say ‘you're mine’, but as your eyes crinkle he knows there’s no need.

"That's kinda hot."

"Wha-really?" Wide-eyed, Spencer squeaks as you step closer to him, backing him into the door. His hands come up to his chest in a kitten-like manner yet at the same time protective―you'd never hurt him and you both know that―but you admit your initial reaction was poor when he laid his feelings bare. 

“Ahhhh Babe, you know there’s no one else for me but you.” Spencer blushes and you chuckle, taking his hands in yours. He let's you. “Also, as adorable as Intern is, one, I think I’d be able to tell if he was hitting on me, and two, he’s not really my type.”

Spencer swallows, “And what exactly is your type?”

“Hmm, let’s see,” Looking him up and down, you step closer, enough that your breath puffs against his chin. You smell like cheap coffee. “Tall, handsome doctors with messy, brown hair―” You lightly tug at one of his stray curls and he bites back a smile. 

“―and a cute nose―” Your hand moves to cup his cheek, bringing him down to peck the tip of his nose. It scrunches as Spencer breaks out into giggles. 

“―Who can recite classic literature. Who can bake like he belongs on The Great British Baking Show but can’t cook for shi―”

“Okay! Thank you, I get it,” Spencer says, almost completely relaxed now.

“Good,” You nod with finality. “And for your information, I wasn’t trying to make you jealous."

He raises an eyebrow. "So you just abandoned me and talked about another guy for the hell of it?"

Spencer's tone is casual, joking even but you know better. There's underlying bitterness and hurt and your heart squeezes because you did that. "No, of course not. There is a reason behind all that.“

“What could possibly excuse you going above and beyond your job as a mentor―”

“I was trying to set you guys up.”

Spencer deadpans. “Set me up? With him?” Oh god, he knows you’re weird, but he’s never considered you to be outright insane (is it weird he still loves you?).

As if reading his thoughts, you roll your eyes, “Spencer, how many friends do you have outside the team?”

“Not a lot.” No hesitation, but he accepted the fact a long time ago. 

“Yeah and that’s okay. But if you’d talk to Intern, you’ll find you two have a lot in common. I know he’s younger than us, but he’s a good kid, real smart,” You give him a meaningful look and shrug, “Not like IQ 187 smart but he could definitely hold a conversation with you.”

Spencer murmurs, pulling you in so you're chest to chest, “This entire time, you were really trying to make us friends?”

You nod, your expression a mix of giddiness and hope that makes whatever feelings he felt before, the confusion and―yes, fine―the jealousy, dissolve like sugar in water. Spencer sinks into you, burying his face into the crook of your neck and inhaling your soap. Of course you had good intentions. Of course you wanted to do something nice for him.

Fuck, he loves you.

“So… we good?”

Spencer huffs, “I hope you realize how much I suffered the past few weeks.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“Then yes, we’re good,” He mumbles into your shoulder, “I appreciate what you were trying to do.”

“And?”

His brow furrows and he pulls back, meeting your eyes. “And what?”

“Will you try to be friends?” You look at him expectantly.

Spencer opens his mouth to answer, a definitive no on his tongue, but then you’re giving him puppy-dog eyes and before he realizes it, “Okay.”

Wait, no. That is not what he meant to say.

“Yeah!” You throw your arms around him, and Spencer can’t stop you, grunting as you basically swing him around like a rag doll. But he finds he doesn’t care when you set him back down because you’re happy, happy for him, grinning ear to ear as you babble, “I can already tell you two are gonna be the best of friends! You guys have so much to talk about, all that nerdy stuff. Maybe even debate! And we could play chess and―”

There’s a knock and you both turn, a voice muffled by the door, “Hey, guys? I don’t want to interrupt in case you’re boning, but you didn’t exactly tell me where to wait for you? God, I hope you guys aren’t boning. Please tell me you’re not boning right now.”

You groan, “No Intern, we’re not boning! Right-uh-go ahead and meet me back at the office, I’ll be right with you.” You turn back to Spencer, sending him an apologetic look. “I will see you later, okay? And since you’ve been such a patient and understanding partner,” You plant him one last kiss before patting his cheek, and his eyes widen as your voice lowers in the way you know drives him crazy, your eyes glinting with mischief, “I’ll make it up to once we get home. Bye, love you!”

Before Spencer can fully register your words, you're out the door, cackling as you leave him to compose himself, his face beet red from running the possibilities. By the time he emerges from the break room, you’re long gone.

“Hi, Dr. Reid?”

Spencer almost snarls, cursing under his breath. Just when he thought the day was getting better. He turns back. 

Intern stands tall, relaxed and shoulders back, black tie loose and cheap white-collar button up slightly wrinkled. No doubt from working hard and following your instructions throughout the day. Spencer respects the work ethic at least. Meanwhile, the younger man eyes him, and he’s certain it’s not from intimidation but with curiosity.

Spencer doesn’t linger on that. He’s used to it, not being intimidating to others.

He continues, “It’s nice to finally talk to you, one on one I mean. I’m a fan of your work. Seven degrees, huh?”

“Yeah,” Spencer says curtly. Recalling the earlier conversation with you, he stamps down his irritation and tries to extend an olive branch. “How did you know?”

“It’s the internet, sir,” Intern raises an eyebrow, offering an innocent smile. 

“Right,” Spencer returns it with an awkward one of his own, “Hey, sorry for... literally kicking you out before. That was completely unprofessional.”

Intern waves him off, “No, it’s cool. I totally get it. I’m flattered, by the way.”

Spencer frowns. “Flattered?”

“Well, it’s not everyday you find out your superior’s jealous of you.”

Spencer blinks, and it takes all his experience as a profiler to mask his embarrassment. “You heard that.”

“The FBI’s got thin walls,” Intern shrugs and steps towards him. “Although I have to say, Agent (Your Last Name) is wrong about one thing.” Stopping short in front of him, for the first time Spencer is close enough to note the moles dotting his face. “They can’t tell that I’m flirting with them.” 

He starts down the hall after you, and Spencer’s eyes trail after him as his brow furrows, until realization slams into him and his jaw drops. “Wait, you...”

“Oh and since (Your Last Name) wants us to be friends, I think we could be on a first-name basis,” He pauses to look back at Spencer, watching with a crooked smile as the older man sputters. 

“So, you can call me Stiles, sir.”

Then once again, Spencer is left behind, frozen in the hallway as he processes what just happened.

And the next time he finds you and Special Agent Stilinski in the same room, whether it’s crowded or not, Spencer does not hesitate to cling to your side, putting as much distance between the intern and you as he can. Spencer’s grateful you don’t question it.

There may not be anyone else for you, but that doesn’t mean no one will try.

―

AN: ahhhhh thanks anon!! There was a similar request then i saw this tiktok (and listened to this tiktok the entire time) and i combined them. Id also like to emphasize that my version of reader is neutral across the board, race, gender, etc.

Yes, i have a type. No, i will not be taking criticism. 

Been hella overwhelmed with classes and work so here’s my way of destressing. Also suggest checking those tiktoks if you wanna understand me :))) also you mean to tell me i have to write the threesome myself?? Bs tbh 😔

watched 15x4 and i was so sad when Spencer addressed Luke as his coworker like no bitch hes your new bro stfu

and i have no doubt that stiles and spencer would be one of the best crossover duos given the chance