#5 year old me had banging taste

[ciphersonlywife]

[carmenized-onions]

Tony, Terry, Tommy? | Walk-In Hotfix

synopsis; You get an unexpected call from an old friend in need of an emergency repair. Good thing: that's kind of your whole gig. Bad thing: You've been avoiding the Berzatto family for the past year.

tasting notes; hurt comfort? idk man, he's in a fuckin' freezer. this is gonna be a long slow-burn series. We don't use Y/N here and we've got a very preestablished storyline going on babes. Eat up.

portion; 3.1k+

possible allergies; SEASON 2 FINALE SPOILERS, I've started writing this before Season 3 comes out in June so we're going WAY off canon (unless I'm an oracle), Mikey is gonna be central baby, any tw you require for the bear-- you require for this.

pairing; Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto & Fem Reader (No pronouns!)

I have not written fanfiction in 5-6 years and once again some goddamn pretty boy just YOINKS me back in. I'm making up my own season three here so I'm kinda flying by the seat of my pants with this series, hopefully it turns out. If it doesn't... C'est la vie, I had fun.

The inciting incident, the thing that pulls you in, and permanently alters the trajectory of your life—                    Is honestly quite boring, because it’s just a phone call from an old friend.

You stare at your screen for what feels like eons but it’s really just a few rings. It’s enough time to frantically search through blankets on your couch for your remote to pause your show— Which might as well be like 10 years of time. You’re heavily debating not answering; what if it’s something heavy? What if a mutual childhood friend died? What if it’s a love or murder confession? What if it’s about the money you owe her? The money she owes you?

Do you really want to take that kind of call? On what’s been a peaceful Friday night? That’s a rarity in your part of Chicago, c’mon. If it’s important, she’ll leave a voicemail... Who are you kidding, she doesn’t leave voicemails— Frankly, it’s bizarre and concerning that she’s calling in the first place instead of spam texting. …Alright, she’s let it get to the fourth ring, she’s probably dead or dying. You need to pick up.

“…Syd?”

She sounds infinitely stressed, but relieved to hear your voice.“Hey, hey, uh—”

There’s a cacophony of yelling, banging, and what you imagine are kitchen noises in the background. Guess she kept to her guns after Sheridan. That’s nice. Or maybe it’s not. Hard to tell.

“Are you good?” She can’t see the concern on your face or your free arm crossing over your waist— But she can imagine it in the worried lilt of your voice.

“Yeah, yeah yeah, yeah— I-I’m good— Well actually, no, I’m not good, that’s why I’m calling. Actually. Sorry. I know it’s been a minute, it’s fucked up to call only when I need something—”

“Syd.”

“Is your dad still a handy-man?”

Ah. Goodbye peaceful Friday night. Hello emergency hotfix services.

You click your teeth, “Oh, no, he retired. Got a case of… Getting fucking old disease.” But a part of you is relieved it’s a thing that’s broken, and not her. This is at least manageable— Whatever it is.

“Fuck. Okay. Fuck. Ha, yeah, my dad’s got that too— Well, okay, then I’ll talk—”

You’re quick to jump in. “I took over the business though. So, if you’re—" “We need help so bad right now.”

You can’t help but laugh at the speed of it, but immediately feel guilty hearing the desperation in it. “Yeah? Who’s we?”

You stick the cellphone in the crux of your neck, already walking across your apartment to throw on your jumpsuit— Dark navy blue, elbow length sleeves, dad’s old logo embroidered on your right breast pocket.

CHICAGO’S KINDEST ⚒ FIXERS & CO. It’s managed to grow on you.

There’s an egregious number of patches ironed or sewn onto the back and shoulders of it. All from businesses you and your father had either worked with or done odd jobs for. A NASCAR jumpsuit, but for nostalgia and small businesses. Something something ‘it all starts with your neighbourhood’. Your dad would say.

Syd continues, she hasn’t changed much. You hear her sharp dicing in the background, the rhythm seems to calm down into an actual flow instead of erratic speed. You figure either the dinner rush is starting to slow down or she’s relieved you’re coming. Who are you being humble for, no shot it’s the former.

“So, you know how I’m like— Like a chef and shit?”

 You hum the affirmative, putting her on speakerphone so you can pull out your tool kit with both hands.

“So like, I actually co-own this restaurant opening tonight.”

“Oh nice!”

“Yeah— Yeah, yeah, it’s really nice, but actually, it’s not, because it’s bad.”

“In the way I can fix?”

“In the way you can fix, yeah. Hopefully.”

“What’s the damage?”

“So, my co-owner uh, Carmen, he got locked in the walk-in. Like trapped.”

You take a beat, a confused one. Half-stepping, almost tripping. You stare at your tools, picking out what you’ll actually need for this— How the fuck— “How is he trapped in the walk-in?”

“So, he meant to call to get it fixed—” “And he didn’t?” “And he didn’t.”

“What was broke about it in the first place?”

“The doorknob on the inside, broke off. And right now, or, more like, 5 minutes ago, the handle on the outside broke off too.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, fuck.”

“Do you have the outside handle, still?”

“Yeah. Yeah, laying around somewhere— It snapped off though, like—”

“Clean?”

“Uh…. Y’know, I would check, but I’m actually kinda—"

“Can we run table 36, please, Chefs?!” Now that’s an uncomfortably familiar voice.

“Yes, Chef! …I’m kinda busy.”

“Right. Restaurant. Oh, what fucking restaurant? You said Carmen, that’s that fuckin’ Michelin guy, right?” Berzatto. It has to be. The smallness of this world is a personal prank on you.

“…How do you know that?” Son of a bitch.

“…I try to remember what you like.” It’s a good save, but that was too intimate for 3 years of no contact besides Happy Birthday texts, fuck fuck, recover— “Ahem, uh, Restaurant?”

“The Bear. Formerly The Beef. You do still live in Chicago, right?”

Berzatto. Confirmed. Bleh.

“Fortunate for you, I do. I know The Beef, I’m not far, I’ll be there in ten. Tell him to not have a panic attack, if you get a minute.”

“I will not get a minute. But I love the dream.”

And you’re off. Jumpsuit half zipped over what was supposed to be a sleep shirt but is now posthumously a work shirt. Nobody has to know you’re wearing pajama shorts under this. Carhartt jacket thrown over your shoulders— Your dad’s, so, a bit oversized. Toolbox in hand, utility belt on— Though you’re mildly sure if your hypothesis is right, you will only need your threateningly long sledgehammer.

Thank God for your car. CTA would not like you right now.

You pull up front. Oh boy. The sign change is making you feel a type of way that you were not expecting. Pride? Envy? All seven of the deadly sins? Maybe. No time to stew on it because there’s an older woman smoking and having an emotional spat with who you assume is her shivering son out front. So. Definitely going through the back alley instead of getting in the middle of that shit.

Alas, it’s not any better, because there’s Syd, vomiting next to a dumpster.

“Better to ignore or acknowledge you in this moment?” Is the response you decide is best, despite the question, you’re already by her side. You put your tools down (out of the splash zone) and rub her back with one hand, holding back straying braids with the other.

“I couldn’t—” More vomit. “Fuckin’ tell ya.” Syd takes a few deep breathes before standing. She considers going in for a hug, but remembers, the vomit. “Good to see you. I want to catch up, f’real, but—” “The bear in the walk-in?” “The bear in the walk-in.”

You nod, fishing through your pocket. You hand her a mini container of Tums. She waves it off, of course, and you double down, of course, “Who you acting tough for?”

“Fuckin… No one.” She grimaces, taking the box. She makes a show of taking one, like a fussy kid.

You refuse to take it back. “Keep it.”

“Never stopped being the mom friend, eh?”

You laugh, picking up your tools again. “Listen, there’s no telling what the night and your stomach holds. Lead the way?”

The Bear is pretty, or at least the kitchen of it is, so far. It’s clean. Cleaner than it used to be. The death trap walk-in is really the only eyesore for you. You stare at the broken-off handle in your hand, twisting it back and forth to look at all the angles. It’s honestly a pretty clean break.

Sydney’s left to talk to her dad, as she should, and the rest of the kitchen is either too busy to pay you mind or is just silently relieved to see you.

Tina— Who has thankfully opted to not say ‘Hey, good to see you, it’s been a year, what the fuck’—Taps the walk-in door and says to this elusive Michelin Carmen that she’ll be right back, that help’s here. He does not seem to register this at all. She gently slaps your cheek before rushing back to her station, regardless.

“Maybe I’m just not built for this, maybe, maybe that’s okay— Maybe that just is.”

You’ve never said his name to him, it feels heavy on your tongue. “Carmen.”

“Right? What the fuck was I thinking?”

Alright, he’s too far gone. You flag down one of the cooks that are just shadowing for the night. “Hey, can you hold this in place for me?”

You stick the handle into what’s left of the hinge still attached to the door, which is, not much— But hopefully, again, if your hypothesis is correct, it’ll give enough leverage. The cook holds it in place, a little terrified as your sledgehammer comes into view.

“Not gonna hit you, promise.”

“—I’m a fuckin’ psycho. That’s why. That’s why I’m good at what I do.”

You tap (bang) the hammer on the door, enough to stop his train of thought. For a second, at least. “Sweetheart, I need you to stand up for me, Carmen Chef Sir.”

“…Tony?”

“...Who the fuck is Tony?”

The meek cook beside you speaks up, “He means Tommy.”

And Tina is quick to yell from across the kitchen— hearing how? We don’t know. “It’s Terry!”

“I am none of these people.” You sigh, readying the hammer. “Carmen, can you stand up, and just tuck your fingers in the wedge of the door? If there is one?”

“Heard. Yeah.” There’s shuffling from in there, getting into position. Though the steps and the words seem dazed, as he’s forced out of a mental fog. “Here.”

“This isn’t a fix by the way. Your whole door is fucked after this. Not that it isn’t already, but, y’know.” You back up, teeing yourself up before running forward.

“Well, wait—”

You slam the mallet into the tip of the handle perfectly, forcing it way too tight into the gap of the hinge. You push the cook aside with your hip, now using the long handle of the mallet to stick between the knob and the door, using it as further leverage to pull it open. It is incredibly straining.

“Carmy!” Is it okay to say that nickname before you’ve even seen his face? Eh. You’re moving the boulder, he’ll forgive you. “You feel air?!”

“Holy shit— Yeah, yeah— Push?!” “Of course fucking push!”

And it becomes apparent in this exchange of force that this Head Chef must be significantly stronger than you, because it’s opening a lot faster now. Though, fast is a strong word for the snail pace this is happening at. But it’s more than the nothing that was happening a minute ago.

“Aye… Cousin?” Richie, in a… suit? Runs up to you, coming from front of house. He immediately grabs a free spot on the sledgehammer’s handle to help pull. He was shocked to see you doing, well, this, right now, but then upon registering, he’s just shocked to see you. Period.

You can only groan in response, sticking a leg up and putting your foot on the wall as if it’s gonna add meaningful leverage— Oh wait, it kinda is. “Y'clean up good, Rich— Opening going—Fuck— well?”

“Oh yeah, fucking peachy.” He can only manage to wheeze in reply. Investing his strength in yanking rather than reintroductions; thankfully it pays off.

The hinge shoots open, you would have absolutely fallen on your ass if Richie was not ready to stabilize you. The walk-in door cracks open. Just a bit. It’s not dramatic, it’s just a breath.

It’s so anti-climactic that Richie doesn’t mind walking off to cheer before Carmen even comes out. Clapping your back as he does. “That’s what I like to fuckin’ see, Cousin! Ingenuity!”

Though, to be fair, he’s moving to intercept a very sweet looking, worried girl. You look up at her, wheezing as you keel over slightly to catch your breath, hands on your knees. She’s saying something along the lines of ‘What’s going on?’ ‘Is he okay?’ Girlfriend? Probably. Richie seems to be coaxing her accordingly. You turn your head back to the door. Carmen hasn’t come out yet. That’s a red flag. With another wheeze, you stand up right, opening the door further, peeking in.

He's standing there, catatonic. Not looking at you, but straight forward, beyond you. He must’ve been by the door to push it open but now he’s stumbled against the back shelf. Every time his girl’s voice manages to ring into here, his eyes crinkle— Wince. His breath keeps hitching. He looks afraid. It is better to be caged right now than it is to be out there, doing whatever he could be doing, right now. Talking to anyone might be a death sentence, right now.

“I don’t need to provide amusement or enjoyment. I don’t need to receive any amusement or enjoyment. I’m completely fine with that.” He mumbles repeatedly. You can barely hear it over the buzzing of the freezer.

Whispering it just for himself, like some sort of fucked up mantra. Like it’s a state of inner peace to feel this bad. You doubt he even sees you right now.

You know you don’t know Carmy personally. Mostly just through hearsay.

He’s never met or heard of you, that’s for sure.

But you know Berzattos. Or. Knew the one.

And you know a downward spiral. Intimately.

And you know that right now, he’s fucking cold. He is shivering and making no move to leave that state. You think he thinks that’s the state he deserves to stay in.

Nothing to lose but a good first impression, right? You drop a screwdriver in the doorway as a doorstop— Because how fucking dumb would it be if you both got stuck? And. Extremely slowly, you approach him not unlike approaching an actual captive bear. In your eyes, you might as well be.

Standing right in front of him doesn’t stop his mantra. You slip your jacket off, half hugging him to drape it over his shoulders. “You’re just cold.”

“I’m a—” “You’re just. Cold.” You cut him off before he has the chance to self-deprecate again, smoothing out the sleeves on him. His eyes readjust to actually look at you rather than somewhere beyond.

You sniff. You’re already cold and it’s been 30 seconds. This poor thing. You rub your hands together, breathing hot air into them before touching them to his frigid fucking face. “Fuck you’re really cold. Like danger cold.”

Never being one for boundaries or hesitation, you hug yourself to him. It’s the fastest way to warm him up. You slip your hands under the jacket— Your jacket— And just engulf the Italian Popsicle Man before you.

Shockingly, he doesn’t push you off or suddenly reawaken to his senses and tell you to fuck off. He doesn’t flinch, if anything he leans in. His body doesn’t really have time for surprise, right now, it just takes what it needs. And what it needs is warmth and oxytocin. His breathing slowly but surely self regulates, and once you start to remember decorum you lower your arms— But. He opts to place his chin on your shoulder, like the world’s most gentle hook, and that alone is enough to keep you there.

It's a long, silent, liminal spacey moment before he speaks again. Both of you speak just above the decibel of the freezer's buzzing.

“You’re not Tony.”

“Terry.”

“You’re Terry?”

“No, Tina said Tony’s Terry. I don’t know who the fuck Terry is.”

“Terry’s the fridge guy.”

“You’re still going to need to call him; I did just make it worse.”

“That’s fine.” He swallows. “Who called you?”

“Syd.”

“Should’ve called you earlier.”

“Should’ve called the fridge guy earlier.”

“Yeah.” He sighs, but he makes no move to move, so you don’t either.

“You know Mikey too?”

Ah. The patch. The Beef. It's worn, but it sits proudly on the left shoulder of your jumpsuit. Your heart tightens and so does your posture.

“Yeah.” You sigh. It’s shakier than you’d like it to be. “Dad knew him, so then I knew him, so then I occasionally fixed shit for him. Shit that ‘Fak couldn’t?’ I think his name was?”

“Hm.” He hums. “He ever got locked in the walk-in?”

“Yeah, he really fucked it up, like waayy worse than whatever happened with you tonight. Like whatever happened. At least 10 times worse.” Your voice is coated with sarcasm, but it’s not entirely untrue.

You’re relieved, when Carmen laughs at this, a touch maniacally, but it’s something. Right now, any emotion from him besides regret and anxiety feels like a trophy. He straightens up, pushing his hair back, so you remove your arms.

“You’re fuckin’ funny, Tony.”

“Still not Tony.”

“Oh my god!” A blonde, very pregnant woman cracks the door open, relieved. “Are you okay, Bear?” You step aside so she can hug Carmen, holding his cheeks to look over him. Oh, this has to be—

“I’m good, I’m great, Sug.” He says this incredibly unconvincingly, hanging one hand on her wrist.

But what matters more in your brain right now is: That’s Sugar. Natalie.

And now you can put a face to both siblings you’ve been bitched about to.

Chain-smoker, means well, cringeworthy husband, too good for her family, incredibly judgemental, cares too much and worries more, loves to fight, her mother’s daughter, pushy, sticks her foot in her mouth, can’t take no for an answer, would lay down her life. Natalie Berzatto. Little sister.

Michelin Star retaining, big shot, sensitive, definitely a virgin, ball buster, sweats the small stuff, sweetheart, asshole, incredibly smart, flighty, coward, deeply loyal, whiny, screamer, show-off, fantastic drawer, shell, mister new york, annoyingly humble, undeniably the most talented. Carmen Berzatto. Baby brother.

Mikey’s words. Of course.

Nat turns her gaze over to you, “Thank you.” You can only bring yourself to nod in reply, a bit awkward— Lost in your rolodex of memories of the people you’ve never actually met until right now. It’s weird to feel parasocial about a normal person.   

“Our toilet, exploded.” She says.

Now that pulls out you of it, and gets a laugh out of you. You put your hand over your mouth. “Yeah?”

Sugar shakes her head, eyes widening like she’s just stepped in it, “I didn’t mean like— Like, you just did a job, right, that’s like tacking on another last-minute service—”

“That’s fine.” You put a hand up stopping her from continuing, still chuckling. “I’ll take a look at it tonight and try to fix it tomorrow?”

She nods, smiling bright, “Thank you, Tommy.”

Who needs to use Y/N when you have the fridge guy?

I so desperately hope you liked this first chapter. I've been stewing on this for like a week so I beg of you to reply/reblog/send me an ask (anon or not!!) telling me what you thought!! Unless it's mean!! In which case, do NOT!!!

And just a forewarning, as we step into uncharted territory where the walk-in meltdown was cut short, I need you to hold my hand through it bb. We're making this man's life better or we're gonna die trying.

Next Part

[ssavaart]

Sometimes You Have to Make 100 BAD Drawings To Get 1 GOOD One

(Earlier this year, a publisher asked me if I'd be interested in writing a book on art. As we discussed it... they asked me to "give it a try" and this is one of two tests I did. I don't consider myself a writer, really, so this is just "in my own voice". I wound up turning down the offer... but would love to know your thoughts on this. Thanks)

Drawing something good. Something you like. It’s… elusive. Especially when you’re just starting out.

But, here’s the thing. You have good art in you. I promise. You just have to get to it and it’s stuck under a bunch of bad art. Really bad art.

When I was younger, I would draw every day. Filling up sketchbooks with doodles and sketches and I hated ALL of them.

Page 01: Crap

Page 02: Crap

Page 03: Crap

Page 04: Worse than Crap

Page 05: What even is that?

Page 06: Ugh

And it was just downhill from there…

But… somewhere around like page 100… I made something that… “wasn’t crap”. I actually didn’t hate it.

And that gave me courage to keep going. That one drawing made it all worth it. I was cured. I was now an expert. All of my art would be great from now on.

Oh… if only.

The next drawing was worse than any other drawing before it.

How??? I just made ART! like 5 minutes before that. I got all the bad drawings out! How did my art just go from Van Gogh to Van NO???

Honestly? I… got lucky. That one good drawing? Total fluke. Dumb luck. Sheer Happenstance.

Doing 100 drawings didn’t suddenly make me an expert. It couldn’t.

Have you ever heard of the saying “If a million monkeys type on a million typewriters for a million years, they’ll eventually write Shakespeare”?

I was those monkeys and that drawing was my Shakespeare.

I just pooped out enough bad art that eventually sheer luck was going to mean I may make something really good.

And I’m TOTALLY okay with that. I was 11. I’m not a prodigy. I don’t have any special gifts. But what I did have was… a taste for how making good art felt.

Seeing that one good drawing made me want more. Like my first time tasting chocolate ice cream. I was hooked.

So, I made 100 more bad drawings. Maybe more. And, guess what? ANOTHER great drawing emerged!

Another Shakespeare from this 11 year old monkey!!!! Huzzah!

From then on… I knew that all I had to do was keep banging away at that typewriter (I’m still on the million monkey thing… bear with me) and I would get rewarded with another masterpiece.

Week after week. Month after month. I would fill up my sketchbooks with the most horrific, amateurish, incomprehensible art… and, sure enough, 1 of every 100 drawings would not suck.

I would show it to my mom and she would say “Oh! That’s wonderful!” and when she tried to turn the pages to see more, I would quickly SNATCH it out of her hands and run back into the shadows like Gollum hiding his “Precious” from prying eyes.

I dare not let her see the monstrosities that came before the work of genius.

And… this went on. For years. Predictably. Rhythmically.

Until, one day… my 75th drawing was really good.

How? It was 25 drawings early! That’s not how it was supposed to work. That wasn’t the plan.

But there it was. A really amazing drawing of a spaceship I came up with out of my head. It had lasers and a cockpit and wings and…It was glorious. And it was totally unexpected.

Maybe NOW I was an expert and I no longer needed to make bad art? Would today be the day I would only make masterpieces?

I quickly turned the page and began to draw what would soon be my second greatest work of art and… NOPE.

Still crap.

Hm. But… something was different. It was still crap. But… it wasn’t as “crappy” as the other crap.

I grabbed my previous sketchbooks and looked at the bad drawings from previous years and… guess what? My older bad drawings were WORSE than my newer bad drawings!

Apparently, the more I drew… the better my BAD drawings got too.   

Okay. So. I drew 75 more “not as crappy” bad drawings and… predictably… I made another great drawing!

I was… IMPROVING.

This went on for years. I went to high school. Then art school. I hated MOST of my art… but as I practiced… the number of BAD art I had to make to get to the GOOD art got lower and lower. Soon it was 50 bad pieces for 1 good one. Then 25. Then 10.

It took decades when I noticed… I liked my art more often than not.

It was a complete surprise. I was in my 40’s when this happened. I was SO conditioned to just accept I was going to hate my art that I hadn’t noticed that I had made 5 paintings that didn’t suck. IN A ROW!!!

Unheard of!

But, there it was. 5 good paintings. One right after the other.

The 6th one was complete trash. Tossed it in the garbage.

But, the 7th one? I liked. And the 8th. And the 9th.

I’m now 54 and I know I still have SO much bad art in me. I can feel it. Always ready to pop up and ruin my day.

But, I “pooped out” so much bad art over the years that I’m not really worried about those pop up bad art surprises. I know it’s just temporary.

I like my art now. And that’s because I got MOST of the bad art out of me and into those old sketchbooks.

I know it may seem daunting doing 100 bad drawings just to get to 1 good one. But… if you love that feeling of making that one GOOD piece of art… you need to be patient and get the bad ones out. They’re blocking the good ones. Keeping them deep inside you.

So, crack open that sketchbook. Poop out those bad pieces of art and never look back.

You’ll thank me in like 40 years or so. I promise.

(Oh. And sorry for all the poop references. I’m still that 11 year old when it comes to humor)

Poop.

[aurorangen]

10 Random Facts About Me

I was tagged by @druidberries and @faerun-s thank you so much 🥰

My height is 173cm and I am a Virgo ♍️

The other day, I went to the hairdressers for the first time in 3 years 😂 my mum usually cuts my hair every few months (no need to pay haha). She cuts 1-2 inches off the bottom and trims my curtain fringe a bit every time. I have a kind of wolf cut now, not too far off my usual style, but still, a bit different.

Binge-playing the sims is really hard for me because I get distracted easily and PROCRASTINATION 🙃. Mostly I play during the weekend to destress from life, but it was a few hours at a time. It was like a personal record posting daily and that was when I was really into it!!! I think I would be posting a lot more if not for this, plus I had several burnouts/breaks throughout the years. Playing two legacies really helped my motivation and it also kept my simblr alive 👍

Continuing from the previous! I'm a perfectionist and I'm really picky with my posts. 2-3 hours would be waiting for the game to load, letting the game do its thing for a bit, setting out scenes, then taking the pics. It's like making a movie 🎬 And that would only result in one post (no editing yet). I'd have planned what I wanted to do that day and written all my text/dialogue as I feel I don't want to play if idk what I'm doing.

I'm very clumsy!!!! The amount of times I have walked into something or banged my foot. This is TMI but I have broken my big toenails more than once lmao one time it was from playing basketball (I'm no good at it…and I was wearing sandals) and I dribbled it on my toe 😞

I have had bad acne in the past and have tried so many products to help with my skincare. My skin is a lot better now and mainly acne scars remain. Also drinking milk makes me break out and I didn't know it was a trigger back then. I have soya milk instead and it tastes just as good in tea (I love drinking tea).

I get motion sickness when playing particular games. I used to be fine, but one day I played COD with my brother and just couldn't handle the first-person view I was SICK 😵‍💫 I prefer third-person view in any game, but I still get dizzy if playing for too long. Sims is great because it's like GOD PERSON VIEW 😂 With games, I don't really play a lot now and sims is the only one!

I had no fizzy drinks for 5 years one time!!! I thought "let's see how long I can hold out for". During my first year of uni, I had a really bad flu and nothing helped. My mum told me to boil coke and ginger together (it's an old Chinese remedy lol) and it helped like MAGIC 🤩 There went my 5 years of cutting it out and now I drink it sometimes!

I was close to studying architecture at uni. I studied computer science and 3d design at A level, but was unsure of an artsy route or technical one. I loved both and I knew I wanted to do something with maths. In the end, I went with engineering because it had more opportunities with me still being able to program (thanks to robotics and electrical modules), design stuff (with CAD) and lots more 😊 IG that's why I live my architecture dreams through building in sims!! Speaking of...

I HAVE 🎓GRADUATED🎓 (graduation ceremony was the other day 🤭). The final year was really tough for me but I can't believe I have completed my undergraduate studies!!!

I will tag: @mikachusblog @duusheen @mdshh @sharona-sims @gingenr but feel free to ignore this 💖

[bookns]

Annabeth Chase attends to the younger kid, always. Whether she is out of her own or with friends, if she sees a younger camper in trouble, she will always be there. She snorts when she laughs which is Percy's favorite sound because he knows that is the sound of her being truly happy (He missed it dearly when he went missing). She will always make strawberry pancakes, as Luke used to do as camp. Although, Annabeth hates Luke and what he stands for, the broken family he once built is something that still lives in her, and for that she will always make strawberry pancakes (the same recipe that Luke had used for 5 years). In Annabeth's opinion, it will never taste the same, not when every time she has nectar that she gets the reminder that Luke will never come back. Annabeth loves the color red unapologetically because that was color that Silena used to say was the color of their friendships ("and the color of blood" Clarisse). She decides to get three tattoos, one of which is an earth with the sun and stars surrounding it as a reminder of what she done and of the people (and monsters) she left behind. The Perseus constellation on her shoulder, where she once took the knife for him, as a reminder of the one part of her family who never let her down. (Percy cried when he saw it. He didn't have a choice over his tattoo so to see the only girl he loved willingly choose to permentlay mark her body for him made him realize how lucky he is)(and of course the amount of kisses she got proved to her that he loves it). A small red heart on her wrist that she has matching with Katie and Clarisse as a reminder of their best friend who always insisted of being remembered in hearts. Katie has it on her behind her ear, because Silena used to tuck Katie's hair behind her ear as she told her "everything will be ok, I promise." Clarisse has it tattooed on the inside of her pinky finger because "when we were little, she always made me pinky promise that I wouldn't go and kill anyone." (Clarisse laughs as she says this, "I wish I could tell our younger selves that its not true. That you have to kill in order to live.") (When Will Solace realized why they all are getting this tattoo, he sat there and cried. He, too, despite only knowing her for three years remember how she used to bang early on his cabin, even early than his late older brothers used to wake up, when there was a new Taylor Swift album. She used to beg them, and when that didn't work (it never did), she was threaten his cabin about all the gossip she would know (that always worked). Annabeth misses her old life so much that she is determined to help every younger camper live the happy she had

[dragonclaw29]

Top Ten Manga

It’s been a minute since I last uploaded a top ten of any kind, Grad school will do that to you. However, now with my studies almost over I thought I would revisit my top ten manga and see what new titles have amazed me! 

-Note I am not including Webcomics so if you want Manhwa and the like let me know and I will make a separate list. 

10. Sakamoto Days

Starting off with a bang we have Sakamoto Days. In a world of assassins even a mild mannered fat store clerk could be a tough challenge. That is definitely true for Sakamoto the former top assassin in Japan. Watch as Sakamoto is targeted by Esper's, Triad members, and old friends as he battles to protect his home and his daughter. It’s a fantastic read and great for the action lover and comedian a like. 

9. Claymore 

Claymore tells the tale of an elite class of women tasked to fight off monsters who plague the land. Clair the last member of this group must protect the peace, her new friend Rakka, and her self. However, dark secrets lurk in this world and the shadowy organization that dispatches the Claymores may not be as kind as they appear. 

8. A Story about a Droid 

I debated about including this because it is such a short read. But it is also a very good and cute read. This story is about a droid who finds a baby and decides to take care of him. In order to care for the child the droid puts on a human disguise. The story follows the droid and her child as she raises him in a post apocalyptic world. 

7. Berserk

RIP Muria I will always be heartbroken that you passed before finishing this wonder of a story. This manga has always been one of my favorites and for good reason. The art is fantastic, the story is gripping, and the characters are dynamic. However, this manga is shocking, cruel, and depressing- not for the faint of heart. 

6. Gekkan Shoujo Nozaki Kun

Monthly Girls Nozaki is the tale of a girl in love. Chiyo has been in love with Nozaki for a while and she finally decides that she has had enough. Working up the courage she confesses to him, only for him to give her an autograph. Turns out her class mate is world famous in the realm of shoujo manga and has never been in love. Chiyo’s confession goes right over his head leaving her dumbfounded but not hopeless. This manga is a great romantic comedy including some of my favorite characters in fiction. Definitely worth a read if you want to laugh a night away. 

5. Dungeon Meshi

Have you ever been playing DnD and been like “hmmm I wonder what a Mimic tastes like?” If so I have the manga for you! Dungeon Meshi or delicious in dungeon follows a group of adventures as they venture into a dungeon to save the main character Laos’s sister. However, with no supplies they are forced to eat their way through to survive, much to the disdain of the party except for Laos he loves it. 

4. Sousou No Frienen

We all know elves live a long time but sometimes it doesn’t hit an elf until they have seen their old comrades fade away. Frenen is old even and has wandered the world in search of rare magic, and I mean rare not necessarily useful. Only after being recruited to aid the hero’s party and defeating the demon king does she come to realize that human relationships are complex and that time is fleeting. This is a great fantasy manga with great magic and quirky characters as I write this I am rereading the manga for the fourth time. 

3. Yotsubato!

Man aren’t five year old's hectic little animals?! Yotsuba is a young girl in a new neighborhood who isn’t afraid to wander off, get into trouble, or of anything except for maybe scary statues. This manga follows her life with her dad living every day to the fullest. If you are feeling down this is a great pick me up. I reread during finals and it really helped. 

2. Tongari Boss/ Witch Hat Alter

Witches are born with the ability to use magic and normal people aren’t. At least that’s what they say but what happens when a young girl gets a glimpse at the secret of magic. What if the reason magic is solely for witches because of the great danger magic can place not only yourself but the world in. Witch hat alter is one of the best fantasy manga out there right now and I want the next chapter to come out already!!!

1. Chainsaw Man

I remember the conversation that led me to read chainsaw man years ago. It went something like 

“Hey dude you should totally read this manga it’s badass!”

“Really? What’s it about?”

Insert a few seconds of silence 

“Well.. It’s about a dude who turns into a chainsaw and kills devils” 

“That’s insane” 

“Trust me it’s sooo good you have to try it! It has a section where he rides a shark into battle while on fire!” 

And with that fateful line I decided to give it a read. All I can say is thank you for telling me to read it because I love this manga. It is so funny, and crazy, and sad, and mind bending, and so many other things. I never thought a story about a dude who literally has a chainsaw growing out of his face would make me cry but life works in funny ways. 

Well that’s my list. I hope you find some of these recommendations helpful. If you have any questions, or want more let me know!! Have a great Summer!

[bangchan-mytruelove]

An Alpha A Bit Different

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Pairing; Omega!Bang Chan x Alpha!Male!Reader

Themes; Omegaverse AU • Fluff • Smut • Angst • Enemies to Lovers(not really) •

General Content Warning; expected stereotypical behavior (for omega and alpha alike), mentions of past trauma, reader has a hard time eating, plot slightly based off of "connected", reader is younger (born in the 02) and taller than chan (about 5 inches/12cm), mention of anxiety attack, reader can't look at his own reflection, reader and chan are really insecure, reader has good parents (shockingly), mentions of hyunlix being canon, minsung mutual pining, harassment.

Word Count; 2.3k

Summary; After finding out his best friend was looking for a place to move in, Jisung tried to convince (M/n) to move in with him, but after having the alpha avoid him, Jisung decided to simply drag him over to their apartment, where (M/n) met Chan in person for the first time.

Chapter 1; Meeting 3RACHA.

!please, reblog and leave feedback to let me know what you think about this fic~!

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(M/n) grew up hearing from people around him that he was different from other alphas, and he always thought that was a good thing, a bright smile on his face whenever he received such a compliment. After all, every alpha he's ever met was egocentric, self-centered, possessive, and toxic, that's why he thought it was a good thing that he was referred to as different.

But one time, when he was only a sixteen-year-old boy, he stopped to see the faces of the people that called him 'different'. Alphas, omegas, and even betas looked at him with disgust and disapproval.

That was the first time (M/n) thought that being different was a bad thing. And for the first time in his life, he felt disgusted at himself for also being an alpha that didn't meet anyone's standards.

In this world, alphas and omegas are naturally attracted to each other, their pheromones being responsible for this, making (M/n) feel as if his life as an alpha had already been decided by the universe, his destiny already decided, telling him to only fuck and procreate with omegas.

And he hated the feeling of wanting to follow through with that animal instinct. To claim an omega as his and impregnate them, over and over again, marking their body so everyone would know they were already taken.

On days like those, when his rut was dangerously close, he would lock himself in his room, beating himself up and the world for making him an alpha.

"Why couldn't I haven't been born as a beta...?" His whisper would vanish into thin air, not reaching anyone's ears but his, and he would go back to holding himself back until his rut was over. His senses were overly sensitive to everything, noise, taste... smell.

He lived like that for a few years, receiving judging stares from people who disliked his personality, telling him that whatever he did wasn't proper for an alpha like him, and he had enough.

Heading to the nearest pharmacy, (M/n) bought his first box of scent blockers. Translucent patches he had to stick over the scent glands on his neck, right below his ear, and he kept living on as if he wasn't an alpha, not really correcting anyone who assumed he was a beta.

It's better this way, he would always say, convincing himself that it didn't affect nor hurt him in any way.

_____

"Why didn't you tell me you were looking for a place to move in?" Jisung's voice sounded absurdly loud in his ear, making him frown as he leaned as far away as he could while having his best friend's arm around his shoulder.

"I didn't wanna bother you, hyung," Jisung dismissed his words with a sway of his hand, quietly muttering an 'aish~'.

"I thought I told you that the boys and I need a new roommate," (M/n) frowned and looked at the omega still hanging onto him.

"What happened to Hyunjin?" Finally releasing him, Jisung sat across from him in the café they decided to meet up for some lunch.

Grabbing the cupcake on (M/n)'s plate, Jisung took a bit out of it, its frosting covering his upper lip and the tip of his nose, "He decided to live with his boyfriend or something like that," picking up the napkin under the now empty plate, (M/n) lifted his hand up to wipe Jisung's frosting stained lip and nose, making the male smile happily at his sweet gesture.

The instinct told (M/n) to take care of omegas, and Jisung was one, and he was pretty careless so it was something normal to him at this point.

"You would be living with me, Changbin, and Chan, wouldn't that be awesome?"

(M/n) didn't know much about Jisung's roommates, the only one he knew kinda well was Hyunjin, but him being two years younger than his best friend made it difficult to know Jisung's friends well enough. Changbin is a senior, Hyunjin and Jisung are juniors while (M/n) had barely started the year, making him a freshman. Now Chan was a different story, he knew only the man because of some photos Jisung showed him, the man wasn't a big fan of pictures but there were those rare occasions.

Chan had already graduated two years ago, and he worked in the music industry alongside Changbin and Jisung, forming the trio, 3RACHA. (M/n) heard a few of their songs, and he liked them, a lot, going as far as to ask Jisung for the file once the track was finished. The one single important thing that he knew about Chan, was that he was an omega.

And it may be rare however not impossible for an omega to be quite big and muscular, and that's exactly what Chan is. Or that's what Jisung always said about him. (M/n) wouldn't know, he doesn't know the male and he's usually wearing baggy, loose clothing so is not noticeable at all.

"So, what do you say?" And (M/n) remembered what they had been talking about, unwillingly on his part.

He doubted for a few seconds, wondering how he would feel if suddenly a stranger came to live in with him, "I don't know, hyung, I don't really know you're friends-" the male took another bite of the cupcake he stole.

"Not an excuse," (M/n) sighed at that and somehow came up with something to make the omega drop the subject.

"How about I go to your house, and meet your roomies? Then we can decide how everyone feels about it, okay?" Pondering (M/n)'s decision, he shrugged and nodded once.

"I already know I want you as my roommate anyway, and Changbin hyung will like you too," His words did very little effort in helping (M/n), after all, Jisung didn't say a thing about the male he was worried about.

Chan.

_____

After unsuccessfully trying to avoid Jisung, (M/n) ended up getting dragged all the way to the apartment he shared with his friends. He had been coming up with excuses to not go there for the past two days, but Jisung was smarter than he looks, and he ambushed (M/n) when he was walking out of his last class.

"I don't care if you have plans today, you're coming with me," and (M/n) realized he shouldn't have ignored his gut feeling telling him Jisung was planning something when he didn't even try to persuade him earlier in the day.

I can't believe I actually thought he gave up... He lamented to himself while letting himself get dragged all the way to his best friend's apartment. It was a good walking distance, he noticed, unlike the train he had to ride for an hour to get to college.

On the way upstairs to the second floor, Jisung mentioned that Changbin was the only one in the apartment since he only had morning classes and Chan went out, something about his job and going grocery shopping. And even if he knew the only other omega wasn't in the apartment, (M/n) knew his scent must be lingering inside, so before Jisung opened the front door he took a deep breath and followed his best friend inside.

Gently pressing on the scent blockers on his neck, (M/n) walked in and followed Jisung, looking around the place, seeing a few windows opened, probably to not make him feel suffocated by the strong scents of two omegas and the mild scent of a beta. At least he knew his alpha scent wasn't gonna last around for long once he leaves.

Wary of the place he was in, (M/n) kept his hands in front of him, holding his right wrist with his left hand, making sure not to take deep breaths too often.

Hearing a door opening, (M/n) peeled over Jisung's shoulder, seeing a rather short yet muscular man walk out of a room. That's Seo Changbin, (M/n) has seen him around a couple of times, and they have made small talk on a few occasions, but he didn't know much about the male.

"Oh, (M/n), I've been waiting for you, man! Jisungie said he was gonna bring you over but he never did," Changbin patted his shoulder hard, maybe a little too hard, and (M/n) had to hide his pained expression the moment he remembered Changbin not only lifts weights, but he also does boxing.

"I've been... busy with stuff," (M/n) ignored the look Jisung sent at him, that look that said 'you were obviously avoiding this, don't lie', but he didn't comment on his blatant lie.

They talked for a few minutes, mostly Changbin did and both males got to know a little bit more about each other. And Jisung came into the living, finishing what seemed to be a chocolate bar, neither realized that he had gone to the kitchen in the first place.

"Do you know when Chan hyung will be back?" And right before Changbin could answer Jisung's question, the front door opened, and an incredibly captivating scent reached (M/n)'s nose.

He didn't really feel Chan's scent before, especially with how subtle it was, but now that he was back in the apartment he felt it as if he was standing right next to him, presenting his neck at him, letting him smell him for as long as he wanted.

From where he was standing, (M/n) saw him as he closed the door and locked it, turning around with his eyes down on his phone, the same hand that held the keys. A backpack hanging off his shoulder and a grocery bag in his hand.

And suddenly, he stopped abruptly before taking another step forward, his nose twitching slightly as he frowned, his nose caught the scent of another person. Not quite sure what they were since it was very weak and subtle.

He looked up and made eye contact with (M/n), who stared at the floor, slightly embarrassed at being caught staring so shamelessly. Jisung ran at Chan and brought him further into the living room, and seeing them standing next to each other, (M/n) noticed that Chan was the tallest of the three.

Wrapping his arm around Chan, Jisung extended his arm in (M/n)'s direction, who kept shyly looking somewhere else that wasn't Chan's intense stare, "Hyung, this is (M/n)~!" Chan seemed confused at Jisung's words, and he turned his head to look at him.

"Your alpha friend?" The way Chan said the word 'alpha' made (M/n) frown slightly, keeping his head down as he felt hurt by the tone of a complete stranger. He could already tell Chan didn't want him there.

(M/n) heard Jisung sighing and after looking up, he saw his friend sending the older male a disappointed look, "Hey, (M/n) is not like all those brainless alphas we've met, he's actually kind and thoughtful," (M/n) saw how Chan seemed to be skeptical about that, but he let out a short sigh.

"Is he our new roommate?" (M/n) only shook his head a couple of times, giving a negative response to the question.

"I'm not-"

"That's the plan~!" Rudely interrupted by Jisung, (M/n) looked at his friend with a tired look.

"Jisung," he said with a neutral tone of voice, making the male look at him with a wide smile, but (M/n) proceeded with his response, "I'm not sure, I don't wanna rush things and make you guys uncomfortable," even though it seems like I already did, he couldn't help but comment to himself, the clear look of disgust and disapproval on Chan's face, the same expression that made him hate being an alpha.

Changbin realized (M/n)'s mood and he walked closer to him, patting his shoulder again, only more gently this time.

"Well, I don't mind you living here, you're kinda cool," with those words muttered, Changbin beckoned Chan over to them, "You'll like him once you get to know him, hyung."

Frowning unsure, Chan took a deep breath and sat his backpack on the couch before heading to the kitchen, most likely to place the groceries away.

"Fine."

_____

For the next hour and a half, (M/n) was awkwardly sitting between Changbin and Jisung, rarely getting into a conversation with Chan, who still seemed a little unsure about getting close to him, physically and personally.

And with that, (M/n) couldn't help but let that small voice wonder why such a beautiful omega reacted that way once he learned he was an alpha, the instinct telling him to protect and reassure him of whatever uncertainty he may have, and (M/n) mentally beat himself over for that.

That was the same behavior other alphas had, thinking that they had to protect omegas because they were weaker, and inferior to them, and (M/n) didn't like that.

In the end, not wanting to make things even more awkward and uncomfortable for Chan, (M/n) said goodbye, all the while keeping his distance from the older omega and he left the apartment, mentally preparing himself for the long journey back to his house.

Looking out the train window, he wondered if he should become their roommate or just keep living in his parents' house, he couldn't bear knowing he would make Chan feel uncomfortable in his own house.

_____

For the following week, Jisung kept bothering him every chance he got, finding him every break to ask him if he already decided to move in with them, and at some point, on an impulse to make the male finally shut up, (M/n) accepted.

He was worried about Chan the most. He hasn't been able to stop thinking about the omega, seemingly liking him more and more, despite only seeing him in person once.

He was especially worried since it seemed he liked Chan more than Chan seemed to like him, and he was scared of what could happen with their cohabitation.

(M/n) didn't voice his worries and concerns, and like that, he moved in a few days later.

But if (M/n) would've known that living in that apartment was gonna make him act like those alphas he so deeply despised... he would've refused without a doubt.

[lesbioniccommando]

Me: So that's part of it. You get a taste of posting, it's gonna change you. And you can blame it on the algorithm, you can blame it on just getting out of touch, but maybe you reach a point where none of your posts bang and you're doing dirt compared to how it was. But it's not like your old posts that banged, posts from 10, 5, 3 years ago, hell even 3 weeks ago, you probably would be embarrassed of most of them regardless if they banged or not. Maybe it's because you didn't pay for a checkmark or you didn't tag your things or you didn't engagement bait enough or you didn't overshare the right things but overshared all the wrong things, too many sadposts, not the correct glimpse into your life, just the off-putting ones.. you just lost it, if you even had it in the first place. But it's never over 'til it's over, so just do your thing. Okay? Maybe you remake your account. Maybe you comb through your following and trim that, maybe you become a replyguy, maybe you go through and block all the bots that followed you just so you feel a little more authentic. That's what we're gonna do. That's what.. we're gonna do ..

Doctor: (just finished injecting a lethal amount of morphine into my bloodstream) Eaaaasy now, you're doing great

[popcornforone]

Christmas Wish

A Tim Rockford fan fic

I got in from the cinema tonight at about 10:30 watches a bit of tv & then went on tiktok & then couldn’t sleep. It’s now 2am & a small idea I had I’ve now almost completed a first draft of. & I think you will get the finished product soon. See this is why I have lots of fics in draft. Because bang I will get a new idea & then I’ll just write. Also I can’t believe I’m writing Tim again. Send help (but please don’t)

Synopsis: your taking your kids to see Santa but your husband isn’t sure he will make it on time. But a Santas wish box might make all your dreams come true.

Word count:3800

Warnings: DO NOT READ IF TOU ARE UNDER 18! PIV sex, breeding kink, pregnancy, swearing. Previous sexual encounters & fantasies mentioned. Husband & wife, swearing. Mentions of alcohol, teasing, crime is mentioned but not in detail, bedroom voice, Tim likes to be incontrol but he’s not a dom. cock warming, intense sex.

Thanks as always for reading peoples. All feedback is welcome.

3 rings, he always answers exactly after 3 rings no matter who it is. Today is no different.

“Detective Rockford” he answers professionally.

“Tim?” He turns red straight away & starts mouthing to the two other officers in the room with him working the case. He’s saying it’s you & it’s a family emergency.

“Ahhh hang on” he scurries out of the room & into his office down the corridor closing the door behind him. “Sorry still working the case, we’ve almost made a break through.” He says as he rubs his hand across his forehead. He always tried to think like the criminal to catch them & this case has pushed him a little. He’s often got home late exhausted & full of concern that that longer this person is on the loose, the harder it will be to find them.

“That’s not the only thing that needs to be considered” you say. He can hear babbling going on in the back ground. He’s worked out it’s your 5 year old & 2 year old. “How much later are you going to be tonight Tim?” You sound exasperated.

“Maybe an hour, so close, we’re so so close,” he then pauses “wait… I’m missing something, arent I?” He says. You falling silent down the other end of the phone confirms this. “Fuck! What am I missing?” His eyes scrunch up in anger, that he’s got caught up in his work once again. You knew being Mrs Rockford would come with moments like this, but recently it’s becoming more frequent.

“It’s 5pm at the moment, we are meant to all be meeting Santa at the North Pole Grotto at 6:30pm” you say calmly down the phone. You know annoying him by going I told you to set a reminder when you booked it 2 months ago, will piss him off. “I understand though Tim, this is a huge case. It will make our town safe. I can call them up & push it to next week if I do it in the…” Tim then hears your 5 year old son start singing jingle bells in the back ground. He knows he’s probably in his light up raindeer jumper & is so excited to see Santa tonight.

“No, you have to go. I’ll try & get there. I’m sure I’ve got the address, I’ll do my best”

“Tim I can…”

“No I can hear Jason singing in the background, don’t break his heart, I’ll make it up to him & Grace & you, especially you.” He looks at his watch. He can do this. He’s then disturbed as someone taps on the glass of his door. “Baby I gotta go, but promise me you’ll take the kids okay, even if I have to then come back to work, I’ll do my best”

“Tim I…”

“Promise me” he used his moody interrogation voice. That’s how you met. You had been a witness to a crime & he talked to you at the police station. He got no new clues out of you, but you left your number in case he needed to ask you anything else. 3 weeks later, you were handcuffed to his bed, screaming Tim’s name as he licked every inch of your pussy. His face glistening as he told you how good you tasted before he ravaged you for the next 2 days. Even detective Rockford through a sicky to pleasure his new girlfriend. That was almost 8 years ago. You knew what you were getting yourself into by having a relationship with someone like him, both work wise & sexually.

“Okay detective” you say & then sigh. He doesn’t even say bye down the phone, clearly somethings come up. You say to the beeping cancel tone “I love you baby” before Jason starts jumping about to the next Christmas song.

*

You are sat in the ‘north pole’ bouncing Grace on your lap who looks adorable in her snowman outfit. Jason is busy saying exactly what he wants Santa to get him.

“A rocket ship, lego, slime, chocolate, more chocolate…” the list keeps going.

“Yea Jason. Santa will see us in a second. He’s got lots of people to see. I think you just need to pick 3 items for today.” You say & he sits down next to you.

“What do you want for Christmas Mummy?” He asks. You had no idea your son was so thoughtful. The look on his face is genuine. He really wants to know.

“For you & your sister to have the best Christmas” you say & wrap your arms around him. His hug is pure love, the only kind of love a 5 year old can give.

“Oooh im not sure I can wrap that up, what can I actually get you?” Jason hugs you. You know what you really want but you know Jason can’t get it for you. You go to answer with something trivial, but your then interupted by a teenager dressed as an Elf.

“The Rockfords?” You stand up & go to speak.

“Yep that’s us” an echoing voice comes from down the corridor. Tim is lightly jogging your way & the beam on your face can’t be denied.

“Daddy!” Tim scopes Jason up into his arms.

“Hey sport” he gives his boy a big kiss & ruffles Graces hair as she’s almost asleep on you. “Couldn’t miss this for the world” he kisses your cheek & you turn as red as a robins breast. Tim is still in his full detective gear. Holsters & everything. It’s giving you flash backs to some previous role play. He’s previously just left his tie & the holsters on while he’s fucked you & fake interrogated you in bed. The last time he did it, he growled just before his point of climax are you on birth control, you screamed no. You didn’t know Tim had a breeding kink until that moment as he went oh we’re gonna make this stick then. He fucked you all night, even when you woke up in the morning. He was late for work that’s day & you walked slowly for a week. The man delivered though, 9 months later Grace was born.

“I’m glad you made it baby” you say to him as you enter the first room & you are both offered a mince pie. Tim bites into his & his face lights up even more.

“Oooh this tastes good, I haven’t eaten since breakfast” he says & after you’ve had a small bite of yours, you offer it to him. There’s no point rolling your eyes at Tim not eating, his job means he sometimes doesn’t stop for hours. “Thanks beautiful” he says.

You’re then asked if you’d all like to stand infront of a fake fire for a family photo. Usually Tim hates this but he sees Jason get ready to pose & smile.

“Oooh absolutely” a few sensible & also funny family photos are taken in front of the fire & you know by the time you are done with Santa, you will have the jpegs emailed across to print off at home. Tim smiles genuinely in every single photograph. It makes butterflies flutter in your stomach. Those eyes that made you fall for him, dazing in the fake fire light. So warm cozy & loving much like his hugs on a cold winters night. He sees you look & looks back into your own soft blue eyes. “Hello you” he whispers. He can see the love reflecting back to him. His hand slowly fits in yours. So large but soft. The way his thumb goes across your knuckles to start with arouses you.

“Are you all ready to meet Santa?” the elf says, bring you both back to reality.

“Yes” Jason shouts. You & Tim both nod. You’re just happy to see Tim enjoying a family moment & forgetting about work stress.

“Well let’s go” The elf lifts up the icicle beaded curtain & Jason bounds in & you & then Tim follow.

There sits Santa. On his big red chair. A large tree, 3 large sacks of gifts & a few toys on the floor. It’s in a cabin setting. Jason doesn’t move, hes star struck.

“Go on Jason” you say & he then grabs Tim’s leg feeling a little shy.

“Hohoho is that Jason Rockford?” Santa asks in his deep voice. Jason nods, but still hangs onto daddy. “& that then must be mummy & daddy & is that your little sister Grace?” He asks, rubbing his belly. His beard is magnificently white & the suit is cherry red. You knew there was a reason why people booked up this Santa experience.

“How do you know my sisters name?” Jason asks suspiciously.

“It’s my job to know everyone’s name” Santa laughs “especially those on the nice list” Jason still hasn’t budged from Tim. Tim then gets down to his knees & looks at his son.

“Come on Jason, it’s only Santa, he wants to talk to you” he gestures. Jason still says nothing, not moving, standing firm. “Didn’t you want to tell him what was on your Christmas list, you told mummy earlier didn’t you.” Jason then shakes his head. Seeing Santa might have been what he’s wanted for the last 3 weeks but a 5 year old can’t process all those emotions. “Then tell me, tell daddy.”

“Chocolate” Jason says quietly.

“Sorry sport, speak up I missed that”

“More chocolate”

“Oooh chocolate I love chocolate” Santa Ho Ho Hos again & leans into a box,” i like Milky Way”

“That’s my fave too” Jason turns his head & he sees Santa holding one. In a flash Jason is no longer star struck or shy. He is on Santas knee, telling him about his gifts he’s like & what he thinks Grace wants & the elf’s take photos.

“He’s forward like his mum” Tim whispers in your ear as you hand Grace over for the kids to have their own Santa photo.

“& shy to start with like his dad, but then once your out of the shell” you smile at him.

“Thought you like me being outgoing and adventurous” Tim says. He then does that thing with his hand, the way he rubs it around his neck always has you pining, you have no idea why, it just does.

“I want any version of you my love” you then see Santa start to wrap it up the fun.

“Now here’s a small gift” he starts & he hands one to Jason & one to you for Grace as Tim picks her up.” To keep you going until Christmas night okay”

“Wow really, thanks Santa” Jason hugs him & we thank him too.

“Don’t forget to put your Christmas wishes in the box on your way out. Ho Ho Ho & Merry Christmas” he says & your family leave the room.

You look at the wish box & get Jason to write his down & you do one for Grace. But then you see Tim with a piece of paper.

“Baby what are you…”

“You need to do one too” he says as take a photo of his before he drops his in the box “otherwise your Christmas wish won’t come true” you smile & do the same.

“Okay Tim” after dropping your wish into the box, you leave as a family & Tim helps you get the kids in the car, once you get to the car park.

“Are you coming home” you ask being hopeful.

“No I’m not, I have to go back, I’ve got a murderer interview to conduct.”

“You found them”you say excitedly.

“Yes, the team left to arrest him while I’ve been here, but I promise to not be too late okay” you can tell by the looks of it in his eyes that he wants to do nothing more than follow you & the kids home right now. Both will be sound asleep before he gets home tonight, there’s even a chance you might be.

“It’s okay baby, I get It” you smile & go to open your car door but he blocks you getting into it. Your eyes connect & the kiss Tim gives is sweet & soft & your gloved hands graze his beard. You don’t want this kiss to end. He looks full of both sorrow & love as the kiss breaks.

“I love you” Tim says & he traces his thumb across your lips & leaves you standing by the car as he walks off to go get in his.

*

Christmas Day madness has happened & you get into bed in your new pink fleece snoopy pyjamas that you got for Christmas. The clean up can start tomorrow. Your parents have agreed to get up if the kids are an issue tonight. In walks Tim into the bedroom in his dark blue pinstripe Pyjamas & he gets under the duvet with you & kisses your cheek.

“I’ve got 1 more Christmas gift for you baby & I think you have one for me”he says with a mischievous look in his eyes.

“Tim you know that we were always going to have…”

“No no nope, im not talking about sex” he says & he grabs his phone. “I want to show you what my Christmas wish was that I asked Santa for.” Your eyes dilate. You’d forgotten you did that on the evening you met Santa but now you’re excited to see what his was & to share yours.

“Really Tim?” You say excitedly & move close to him under the duvet. Your hand goes for his groin automatically, you know full well that sex is also on the cards, as you slip your hand beneath his bottoms. He lets out a small deep moan & you’re not just hot due to your new fluffy sleep wear. You want your husband, & he wants his wife.

“Y…ye…oooh yes” he says. You’re not sure if that’s a reaponse to sharing or your hand working his length or both, but the way his eyebrows twitch & the more breathing he does you think it’s more from arousal. He then grabs your hand & takes it away. “I don’t want to cum already” he mumbles & pulls you in so your head rests on his top. Such a firm chest & the broadest shoulders tower above you.

He scrolls through his photos.

“Your not worried you wish won’t come true baby”

“Ooh sweetheart” Tim kisses your forehead “it’s Christmas it’s a time for miracles” he says cockily.

“Did you just try & be Hans Gruber?” You ask & you both giggle.

“Guilty as charged” he says & then he flips his phone around & you look at what he wrote on the piece of paper. Your eyes well up.

For my families love & understanding everyday, not just at Christmas.

Your arms fling around his neck & you kiss him hard. So deep so passionate so intense.

“You’ve always had that Tim”

“I know, I just sometimes take it for granted” the way his hand strokes your hair sends a sensation down your spine. His lips are soft as the keep making contact with yours.

“Do you…”

“After this” he moans as he reaches the hem of your fleece top, always a man who knows what he wants. A man who gets results. He might not be in his detective gear right now, but it wasn’t the detective fantasy you fell in love with 8 years ago. It was those big eyes, that smoulder, the messy hair, the deep sexual voice, those large hands that make your body do extraordinary things. You love Tim Rockford, he never had to be a detective to get you in bed, although now that is sometimes useful.

Your pyjamas are off before his & he kisses your tummy. Your stretch marks always get the first kisses just before he slips inside you. You still don’t like them & always gasp when he kisses them.

“There’s nothing sexier than these baby, they made the two best things in my life, be proud” his top has gone & his bottoms follow quickly. His long length dripping already. You’re so aroused that you know you won’t need lube tonight. The way his hands caress your hips as he goes between your legs. You feel the tip tease your clit & the moan you let out has Tim licking his lip.”okay maybe that noise is, make that noise again” he breaches you. He’s not fully in but it has you hand clutching the pillow. He always makes you stretch. He likes to go in slowly & sensually. You oblige & moan again. “That’s my good girl, you’re on my nice list” the next rock he’s almost fully inside. You’re already clamping around him. He feels so good.

“a nice list?” You stutter.

“Yes” the next thrust he’s completely inside you & you cry his name. “You are such a good girl except when it comes to sex, then your naughty but you do that to make me happy” he raises his eyebrows as his next thrusts hits the soft spot. The one that makes you see starts. You close your eyes, pleasure taking over as he slowly rocks into you & your body responds enjoying each movement. Your eyes open after an extraordinary kiss. He feels even deeper inside you tonight. You’re extra sensitive to each graze inside your core.

He lowers himself so he’s all but lying on top of you. Just hoovering slightly. His hands grab either side of the pillow by your head. You lift your hands up & hold his face, & look directly into his eyes. The sweat glistening off his head. His body moving in a rhythm that’s unmatched. It makes you purr.

“Baby”

“Oooh baby”

It’s intense staring into each others eyes. The way he works his hips. Your friction against him has you whimpering.

“Ooooh yes yes yes yes don’t stop, keep going oooh fuck” your heart races.

“Oooh you like that, fuck you do” those massive brown eyes are the largest you’ve ever seen. He’s lost in his lust & desire for you. That turns you on even more.

“Tim oh Tim. Yes Tim”

“You take me so well baby” one of the hands stops gripping the pillow & lightly goes around your neck. Each thrust deep. It hits the spot without fail. You feel extraordinarily sexy as his grinds his teeth. The beads of sweat drip onto your chest.

“Keep going im so close” you just about get the words out. His grip tightens & you start gasping & he is pulsing. You’re sure the bed is creaking. You’re hoping no one can hear your collective moans.

“You wanna cum?” Tim growls as his other hand tugs at your hair. “Do you think you’ve earnt it? Do you want to drench me? Make me spill inside you?” you love it when he gets in the zone & starts using his menacing voice. Criminals cave in for this tone but you squirt when he gets it right. What brings nightmares for others makes you orgasm.

“Ye yea…. Yess”

“If I cum your gonna keep me warm, your going to sleep all night with my hard throbbing cock buried inside you. We’re gonna stimulate you so you stay wet & I stay hard. You’re gonna be cock drunk when you wake up on Boxing Day, my naughty wife.” You hear these words escape Tim’s mouth but they don’t make sense. You’ve lost all cognitive thoughts. Your about to scream so that everyone knows your husband has satisfied you. “Cum baby, cum for your hubby”

The way you scream Tim’s name is deep & low, because you are almost speechless. You gush & drench his length as he keeps going inside you. Even if you weren’t speechless, nothing could describe what you’re experiencing right now.

“Yes baby, that’s my girl, oooh fuck oooh god oooh yesssss” Tim screams. His hand squeezes once more around your neck, his sperm flows inside you, filling you up. His body also juddering, from the extreme pleasure. He sharply let’s go of your neck & you gasp for as much air as you can in 3 seconds before your mouth is occupied with his. Your bodies roll you both out of your highs, slow rocks to calm you down. His hands are in your hair & on your breasts. Yours are also in his hair & stroking that small little patch he has in his beard, your favourite place for cheeky kisses. Eventually your bodies do stop rocking & your collective panting goes quiet. There is a squelching noice from his penis still semi hard inside your.

“Baby” you eventually say & flutter your eyes open.

“Ooh baby in deed” he goes to roll off you & then remembers his promise. You moan slightly as he withdraws but he is swiftly back inside you semi hard, being your big spoon. Even like this he feels good inside you. Cock warming is often something you do as you fall asleep after sex.

“Was that the best Christmas gift?”Tim whispers.

“Well it’s either that or the watch?” You giggle as he moves your hair to the side to kiss your neck. Such small soft little pecks.

“See we can make everyone’s Christmas wish come true” he says. “Hang on you never showed me what you asked santa for”

“Did I not?”

“No we got so into the moment after my reveal that we forgot”

“Hmmm”you reach your arm out & grab your phone. A smile comes across your face. “Promise to not over react?” You say with a little snigger.

“Baby what could…” Tim then looks & the photo on the phone startled. He takes it from you & stares at it. He then throws it down the end of the bed. His hands trail down your body as harder kisses fill your neck & cheek. “Seriously?” You nod “but today? How?” He’s really shocked.

“I was in charge” you smile & turn your head around so his lips can find yours.

“My cleaver girl”

You slowly both nod off to sleep exhausted, his cock still inside you, the kisses eventually stop. His hand also stops rubbing his most favourite place of all. Eventually your phone screen turns off. Your wish was always going to be true.

For Jason & Grace to love their new sibling, who should be here come August.

[callowyn]

20 Questions for Writers

Tagged by @oakashandwillow

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 42...the perfect number

2. What's your total AO3 word count? just shy of 500k which is an insane number

3. What fandoms do you write for? >_> look. is the top fandom on my ao3 page supernatural: yes. am I still actively posting spn fic: technically also yes. but the incoherent scum villain tweets that don't make it onto ao3 are where my heart truly lies rn

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

#1 and #2 are the double header of Cumplane (Pairing), an in-universe meta for @cleromancy's threadfic, and Cumplane Forums AU, an archive of @flightlesscrowkids's communal threadfic that I shamelessly enabled. #5 on the list is also a scum villain chatfic, It's Fine Cause I'm Wearing Cat Ears, where shen yuan is still insane on the modern internet but this time binghe and liu qingge are there. thank you cucumber stans for your support and good taste.

#3 is my untamed big bang from these nettles, alms which I cowrote with @zorrosuchil (chengxian, but also wangxian and a lil tiny bit zhanchengxian, much to jiang cheng's disgruntlement).

#4 is my pacific rim reverse bang Our Blood in the Machinery in which raleigh becket is possessed, but joke's on you, he's into that shit.

5. Do you respond to comments? I try but unfortunately I often give myself the fake homework of needing to reply Meaningfully which means it simply does not happen

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? hmm probably the most it-didn't-have-to-be-this-way classic tragedy fic is The Dismemberment Song (the untamed, nieyao); the deadest dove is Jettison (pacific rim, hansens badtouch)

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? I was going to say Only Human but then I remembered the last chapter ends with one of the main characters announcing her imminent demise lmao so perhaps my cql fix-it of Waking / Rising

8. Do you get hate on fics? thankfully not, I don't think they get enough attention to have haters lmao

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

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? fandom fusions are my faaaaavorite to spitball. way back in the day I had grand plans for Merlispn which (as the name should make clear) was very silly

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? not to my knowledge but cambionverse did once get cited in an academic paper

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? funnily enough one of my smallest and least-viewed spn fics, Driftwood, was translated into chinese!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? nearly all of them in fact! shout out to @thegeminisage and our series Cambionverse which is old enough to be in middle school now

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? I am a multishipper til death do us part ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? fuckin. Envesseled lmfao. ON GOD WE WILL POST THE LAST FIVE CHAPTERS I JUST DON'T KNOW WHEN

16. What are your writing strengths? *eye* think my own jokes are very funny hahaha and I love to write banter & arguments

17. What are your writing weaknesses? I can brainstorm plots all day long but executing upon them is So Hard

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? as a monolingual it is something I would do very sparingly if at all, and only if there wasn't another way to convey the same tone/emotion

19. First fandom you wrote for? the first thing I ever posted to ao3 was The Quest for Camelot which is found poetry from the merlin fic finders comm. before livejournal I did post a few things to ff.net but they are going with me to the grave

20. Favorite fic you’ve written? listen. I understand why it deals psychic damage for my followers to see supernatural content in the year of our lord 20 whatever. but read Cambion those are my kids

[hearts4golbach]

Light Shower. (Sal Fisher x Fem!Reader)

part 5

-

"I'm screaming like a kettle on a stove. You cranked the heat up,"

-

Y/n passed me the blunt that Larry had just lit. usually, I didn't smoke. but today, I decided different. "You're cute, sally. you never smoke with us."

Larry gagged. "Get a room. but yeah, the fuck is up with that?" Larry giggled like a little girl before wiggling his eyebrows at y/n, making her roll her eyes and push him.

I gave him a weird look. "I don't like the smell, or the taste, you know?" I looked around my room as I noticed my high had already hit me like a damn truck.

-

sal and I sat at the park behind his house. it was around midnight when we had decided to steal my mom's weed and get high for the first time together. neither of us had ever smoked anything before, so we didn't know what to expect.

"were going to smoke it, then go home, right?" sal asked, fiddling with his fingers. I held the tightly wrapped blunt between my fingers, proceeding to light it.

"yeah, I'm too nervous to stay out here and your bed is so comfy."

he laughed and took a small hit and inhaled before passing it back. he put his mask back down and started coughing up a storm.

"damn, ladies first, I guess." I said before taking my first hit. I had taken two hits before I looked up and my world was spinning. "woah, what the fuck?" I looked at sal and laughed.

we got up and continued smoking on our way home. a group of teens followed behind us, occasionally laughing extremely loud. my anxiety quickly went through the roof and I began to hold back tears. I didn't know why I was so anxious, but I was. I could barely breathe and all I could think about was the negative shit.

I looked at sal, who seemed more calm than usual during his high.  "you okay?" he asked.

"uhm, I don't know. I don't feel good." I stuttered, rubbing the tears from my eyes.

"It's alright, we're almost back." sal sounded a little panicked by my response as he looked over at me once more.

we got back and laid in his bed, eating whatever food our fatasses could find, which was a big bag of chips, as we watched back to the future. whenever we had settled, I actually relaxed.

"is she over here trying to bang her own son?" sal mumbled, taking a swig of the mystery drink next to his bed. I never figured out what that was, and it was always next to his bed. and no, it wasn't for his eye. he threw his mask on the floor somewhere.

"have i ever told you how beautiful I think you are, sally face? you're my pretty princess!" I giggled, pinching his cheeks. I kissed his scarred cheek as he wrapped his arm around my waist. pretty bold for a 13 year old sal, if you ask me. "why do you think she's trying to bang him?"

"she's like, all over him. it's so weird. he's her son from the future, she's his mom from the past." he said in a higher pitched voice.

"I don't even understand nor remember the plot of this movie do I have no comment." I laughed.

I felt sal shrug. "I love this movie."

"i love you." I smiled up at him. I don't know why the fuck we were being so bold, but that was the night we started cuddling. God, I hate the word cuddling.

-

Y/n looked at me and gave me a smile that made my heart stop. God, I needed her so bad.

"dudes, I gotta take a shit." Larry grunted and stood up.

"wow, thanks for sharing with the class." I said sarcastically, making yn giggle.

Larry walked out of thebroom and y/n looked at me. our eyes locked and a weird tension filled the room. maybe the weed was mind fucking me, but I wanted to kiss her so bad. she broke eye contact for a second as she looked me up and down. I moved my hand to gently hold hers. my eyes flickered down to her lips then back into her eyes. she scooted closer, our knees touched. she reached up and unclasped the bottom strap of my mask. she lifted it up slowly to see my face, leaving it resting at my forehead with the top buckled. whenever she noticed the blush on my face, hers began to glow brighter. she glanced down at my lips. we sat like that for what felt like eternity before I bit the bullet. I placed my hands on either sides of her face and quickly pulled her in. I squeezed my eyes shut, worried about her reaction. our lips melted against one another's, and I felt a warm relief wash over me. I leaned in further, pressing our lips together harder. her hand gently ran down my neck and gripped the neckline of my hoodie. she pulled me closer to her.

she slowly pulled back, her eyes fixed on me. she had an expression that I couldn't read. she began to speak. "i-"

Larry burst into the room with a loud yawn and flopped onto his bed. "what's up?" he greeted us as i had just finished strapping my mask back on.

"Uh, hey." Y/n said awkwardly.

I waved, too nervous to talk. I wanted to know what y/n wanted to say.

"Did someone die? what happened, bro?"

"No, your shit smell wafted in here with you, so you might have a few deaths on your hands soon." y/n joked, going back to normal quicker than I could.

"Preach." I responded. She gave me a small, abnormal smile.

I fidgeting, spinning the thick black ring on my middle finger. Y/n rested her head back to look up at the ceiling and took my hand again, putting my mind at ease for the moment.

Larry began rambling about something, but I had zoned out, rubbing my thumb against the back of Y/ns hand. I reminisced the feeling of her lips on mine, closing my eyes to relive the moment. my body felt like I was floating. I took a drink of the flat diet mountain dew next to me.

-

the next couple of  days were weird. no texts, calls, or even answering the door from y/n. I got nervous, thinking she probably hated me now for that obviously stupid mistake. I texted her, 'Everything okay?'

read.

[pics-and-fanfics]

Take it or Leave? (part 1)

Pairing: Loki x F!Reader (established relationship, sorry he’s not really in this one)

Warnings: toxic/abusive mom/parent person?, mentions of Reader having to take care of her younger sister bc their mom is a piece of shit. Also, my beloved friend, Angst >:) Mentions of past rape and attempted rape.

Summary: You finally let everything out, getting out the anger that’s been boiling for years.

A/N: This has been rolling around in my brain for like a week or two, and I finally decided to write it. Plz don’t get mad at me, bc this may or may not be my way of dreaming how to leave when I get the chance.

PLEASE, DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH MENTIONS OF RAPE OR ATTEMPTED SEXUAL ASSULT!

Other works on my Masterlist. :/

You toss your bag on your chair, collapsing onto your bed. You only had a few more months, just had to put up with this for a few more months. “Y/N! WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!” You swallow, groaning. Not even half a minute, and the shouting has already started.

“I was at work, like I told you I’d be before I left for school this morning, just like I told you last night, just like I tell you every day.” you say, wincing when you hear the door bang open. “I needed you to be home! I had to stay home because of you, instead of going out with my boyfriend!”

You suck your teeth, mentally cursing. How old was your mother? Oh right, she was 38, and you were 17, turning 18 in a few months. 3 months, 1 week, and 4 days to be exact.

“I HAD TO STAY HOME TO TAKE CARE OF YOUR SISTER! I TOLD YOU I HAD A DATE TONIGHT AND YOU HAD TO STAY HOME!”

You wait for her to finish screaming at you, fiddling with your necklace your boyfriend had given you. “LOOK AT ME WHEN I TALK TO YOU!” You slowly look up, careful to keep emotion off of your face. “DON’T YOU DARE LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT!”

“Oh my god, what do you want from me? ‘Look at me! Don’t look at me like that! Are you going to say anything? Don’t talk to me like that!’ WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT?!”

Smack! Your head whips to the side, and you feel your heart skip a beat, a pit forming in your stomach as the sting finally registers. You reach your hand up, then pull it away, seeing blood. Tears started to gather in your eyes, and you stubbornly willed them away.

“You are under my roof, you follow my rules, you eat my food. I put clothes on your back, a roof under your head, and this is how you treat me?” your mother practically growls, and you can feel her glaring at you.

A laugh escapes from your chest, and you throw your head back. “You? You? You put clothes on my back? You feed me? Since when? I want- I want- No I need to know, because, if my calculations are correct, I’ve been taking care of me and Amara since I was 12! I feed her! I buy her clothes! I make sure she has money to eat lunch at school! I make sure she’s done her homework, I’m the one who asks how her day’s been!

“You don’t do shit for me, or her! You haven’t! For years! 5! Years! I’m the one she went to when she got her first period, first boyfriend, first breakup, first anything major! Not you! Never was.” The words tasted sweet, yet bitter, sour from years of not saying them, sweet from finally letting go.

“How. Dare you! YOU LIVE UNDER MY ROOF, YOU RESPECT ME! YOU-”

“SHUT UP!” you scream, getting up from your place on the bed, finally realizing how much taller you were than your mom. “Respect? You want to talk about respect? Then go talk to your boyfriend, who’s tried to fucking rape me! Or maybe your brother! WHO ACTUALLY DID! AND YOU STILL LET HIM AROUND!” You could feel heat radiating around you, but you didn’t really care at the moment, you were finally saying something.

You heard your sister’s footsteps running up the stairs, and you raced to the door, but were beaten by your mother, who slammed the door into your face, making you screech.

“Y/n?” Click! You bang on the door, screaming. “AMARA! GET OUT! GET OUT OF HERE!” you beg, pulling frantically on the door knob.

“Amara honey, don’t take another step. Your sister’s grounded, just ignore her. I’ll take care of you while Y/n learns her lesson, alright?”

“DON’T LISTEN TO HER!” You grab a lamp off your desk, beating on the door.

“I promise, I’ll be better, sweetie. I’m sorry.” your mom’s voice said, and you screamed. “NO! SHE’S LYING! AMARA!”

📿

Loki played with the necklace he’d gotten to match yours, feeling guilty he hadn’t told you he’d put a tracing spell on it. It’d only activate when you were in trouble, or played with the necklace. He was feeling uncomfortable, his necklace had been getting hotter and hotter-

Loki sat up from his seat, realization hitting him like a truck. “What’s wrong?” Thor asked, and Loki waved him off, even though he was getting up. “It’s none of your business.”

📿

Welcome tooooooo… MORE CLIFFHANGERS AND DRAMA! What you gon’ do ‘bout it? I don’t know if I want to write a part 2, so let me know in the comments!

Thank you so so much for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful day or night, wherever you are when you read this. If you want to be tagged in any future posts, let me know!

@vbecker10 @silverfire475 @huntress-artemiss @vickie5446 @sheris532 @lokixryss @lokidokieokie @stupidthoughtsinwriting @crimson25 @peaches1958

[socially-awkward-skeleton]

Chapter 5

Summary: Rory is contacted by Laswell, and her journey to Urzikstan begins

Warnings/tags: Minors DNI - no major warnings for this chapter, character with trauma

Pairing: Captain John Price x Fem!OC (3rd person POV)

Word count: 1.8 k

[AO3]

October 28, 2019 - Fulham, London, UK

Her eyes opened slowly with the fluttering of lashes, her mouth dry with the acrid taste of hours-old whiskey sticking to her gums as sunlight streamed into the bedroom, burning with the intensity of the bright blue sky and the white clouds that blew past. The sounds of distant traffic carried in through her window, London had arisen from its grave – and it was about time she got up off her arse as well. Groaning feebly, Rory rolled over and slapped her hand around the surface of the bedside table in a half-hearted search for her phone, before finally finding it and checking the time. Bugger. 9 AM. Her hands dragged through her knotted, haphazard mess of hair as she opened the text notification she had received from Laswell: CC’d you as requested by John. Get back to me when you can. 

No rest for the wicked.

The crawl out of bed to head downstairs was painful. Drinking whiskey at three in the morning was hardly her most intelligent decision and despite not usually being a lightweight, she could feel it now – head banging, thoroughly dehydrated – rough was the best word to describe her. Her legs dragged as she set up her laptop at the kitchen island and peeled the wrapper off a blueberry muffin, biting into it as she opened her private email on a protected server. Clicking open the attached encrypted file, she was delivered the intel collected from Price and Garrick’s raid on the house in Camden Town. A plethora of gems that when dug through could take her in yet more directions, including possible leads into other terrorist cells across the west – but that would be better served for another time. 

Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she focused her attention on the packet regarding ‘The Wolf’ AKA Omar Sulaman, her enemy number one for the last two years, a former freedom fighter in Urzikstan who had since begun his own terrorist organization with Al-Qatala. Rory sipped her tea and searched for some semblance of normality, a return to form as she buried herself in work, keeping her head just above water. The flinching in her muscles was an all too acute reminder of the desire she felt to be found useful, an unsteady leg shaking as she bounced her foot under the island. The creak of her stool under the relentless assault of her jittery leg was a piercing sting in her ears. Sitting still only worked for so long before restlessness took hold. 

Quick to unwrap her newest pack of smokes, Rory slipped a cigarette between her lips and walked out onto the cramped, enclosed patch of grass some would call a garden. Bringing the lighter to the tip, she let the flame dance back and forth against it as she lost herself in the thought of the regrettable conversation she would have to hold soon with her father. Heading off into another war zone, fighting side by side with Price, doing exactly what she had promised she wouldn’t. Rebellion through following orders. She kicked off her slippers and stepped out into the blades of grass hardened by the frost that had formed overnight and had yet to melt under the heat of the sun. Little needles stabbing into the soft undersides of her feet like a poor man’s acupuncture, forcing her to face reality – Grounding as she recalled it being referred to by her therapist. The repeated calls of the robins and sparrows was a friendly sound of things being restored to their rightful place instead of the dead silence that had loomed over the city. Tilting her face up towards the sun, the warmth was a comfort against her skin even as the cold breeze chapped her cheeks turning them ruddy. Not too much longer and she would be missing the rain, returning to the heat of the desert she seemed unable to escape from. 

Taking a long drag of her cigarette, the smoke curled in her lungs, constricting the passageways. Slowly choking herself just to feel alive. She sighed and a heavy plume of smoke drifted over her lips as her eyes closed, letting the stress release fully with each breath. Focus was a hard thing to achieve when her mind was buzzing, and yet forcing herself to pay attention to every sense, maintaining control over her body and mind did have the desired effect. Her brain wasn’t a rat race of a thousand thoughts and feelings, clarity had once more settled in her skin and the nerves that inhabited the layers between like a web. A spider, resting on the thin filaments, waiting for that subtle vibration of its prey making a false move was hidden at the core of her, biding its time.  Venom pulsed in her veins, a neurotoxin set to immobilize and stun. The tingle up her spine, that itchy sensation like a million crawling ants on her skin warned her that time was coming soon. Her intuition for knowing when to pull the trigger was rarely ever wrong. As another cloud of smoke puffed free from her lips, inside her mobile rang, buzzing against the island countertop in a drone. Glancing over her shoulder, Rory tossed her cigarette into an old planter filled with rainwater, letting it fizzle out as she headed back into the kitchen and scooped the phone up to her ear.

“ Good morning, Sergeant .” DC was five hours behind London, Laswell – as always – was hard at work. Her call sign Watcher-01 seemed to hold fast. Ever at the ready, especially during these chaotic times. 

“Bloody hell, Kate. Up early or just never went to bed?”

“ Still burning the midnight oil, I’m afraid .” The lack of sleep rasped at Kate’s voice. It was likely she was surviving on caffeine and cigarettes. “Best have some vacation days coming for you soon then.” Rory absent-mindedly scrolled through the downloaded files on her computer, her finger dragging back and forth against the touchpad. “What can I do for you?” “ Giving you the heads up, transfer’s gone through for you. Had a chat with the colonel, and as of… 26 minutes ago, you are no longer on personal leave. Need you to pack up and head out from Vauxhall Cross .” “MI6 building?” Rory hummed, “You really did go through the proper channels for this, eh?” “ Can’t use the back doors all the time. You’ve read the materials I sent ?”

“Glanced through some of it over breakfast, yeah.”

“ I need you to be well informed before you hit the ground in Urzikstan. Your flight’s set to depart at 1300 hours .” A heavy pause lay thick over the line before Laswell spoke once more, “ You deserve to be a part of this fight as much as anyone else, Rory. The hours you’ve put into all this… If anyone should be there, it’s you .” Sentiment wasn’t something often shared in their line of work, a testament to the working relationship they had built up together over the last two years. There was a certain allegiance there and while neither tried to let their business and personal lives collide, a blurring of lines came to pass against their wills. 

“Understood.” With a silent nod, she combed her fingers through the short waves of chestnut hair that framed her face, settling in for her assignment. “Right then, I suppose I’ve got several hours of reading ahead of me.” “ If everything goes according to plan, you should be there in time to speak with Sulaman yourself. Special Operations Force and Marines are in the process of collecting him from his last known position as we speak, taking him to the US Embassy for transfer afterwards .” “Look forward to it.” The darkness in Rory’s voice bled through like ink on cloth. She knew better than to make this a personal war, but she couldn’t deny the bitterness that controlled her. The need for revenge was an all too powerful weapon and one she was willing to keep in her arsenal.

October 28, 2019 17:45 - Turkish airspace

The ten and a half hour flight from London to Urzikstan was turbulent, an ill omen of what lay ahead for her. The lone passenger for much of her journey once transferred to a US military cargo plane in Germany, it was her one stop before she would reach the desert. Riding in style was never something she expected as a member of the military, comfort was a luxury rarely afforded, and one she was used to lacking in her years as an enlisted soldier. 

No longer in her civvies, packed and ready for a warzone, she sat on one of the benches, belted in. The engine roar around her was near deafening even with headphones in, barely able to make out the upbeat croon of Blondie in her ears as she leaned back against the hard metal of the cabin. Rivets protruded from the plates into her neck and shoulders, netting above her head rattled on its carabiners. With her mobile held in her hands, Rory stared at the contacts on the screen, her thumb hovering over her father’s number. Assessing the hazards ahead, listing pros and cons, she gritted her teeth. She could call him, but what would she say? 

You were right all along, dad. I feel more comfortable with blood on my hands than in the quiet, doing nothing. I believe it’s my right to go to war having been given the authority to make the enemy pay for their misdeeds. John Lennon was a lying fuck when he said “give peace a chance”.

That wasn’t her, not in her heart at least. Her head would tell her otherwise, doing what needed to be done to keep the rest of the world safe was a burden she had been cursed with to bear and it was one she took seriously. Her Sisyphean task, the weight of it crushing down upon her shoulders. Spurred on by a relationship with a man who had taken this form of thinking to heart, brainwashed to believe this was the only way of life for them both, the one that suited them best. 

Rory decided to text her father instead, a brief message, one that didn’t need a response. The safer option, really. She would be unable to be reached once she was in the thick of it anyway. This was the grenade, and she was pulling the pin, about to lob it away to deal with the explosive aftermath later, putting off the pain of an uncomfortable situation. Her father wouldn’t push, he never did, he simply swallowed it down and perhaps might snipe about it passive aggressively in the future – she could live with that. Leave canceled. Flying over Turkey now. Duty calls. Sorry dad xx

Straightforward, to the point, no beating around the bush. Her father preferred the direct approach when breaking bad news and that was one thing she was more than capable of doing – blunt just like the army had taught her, there was no time for wasted breath. Actions spoke louder than words anyway, and what she was doing was screaming from the rooftops about where her loyalties lay. 

[fareehaandspaniards]

Hey, now is your turn for the asks! How about YOUR favourite kind of music, songs, music bangs, and your relationship with music in particular? >:3

I love all types of music, maybe favourite can be called folk genre. Blackmore's Night (influenced me a lot, I like almost ALL their songs), Oonagh (1-2 songs), Cruachan, Clannad, FAUN, Helvegen and irish dance music, there was a show I love much – Lord of the Dance with Michael Flatley… Ohhhh….

When I was a teenager I was fond of bands like Dimmu Borgir and so like, but it's in the past xd I like music from video games, but I was very surprised when I learned that Fromsoftware games also have great soundtracks, because after completing 4 games, I was so distracted by boss fights that I didn’t really notice the music AT ALL xddd The best video game melodies for me are from Dishonored (2 songs) aaand.… Final Fantasy 9 – another game that I played in my childhood, being 5 years old girl with a Playstation 1, and it had so strong impact on me, that all my tastes, all preferences, even OCs somehow connected with this game, this game has all I want to see in a good, kind story. So music from FF9 is the best and all composition tell their own story, they always help me to create stories in my head.

Now I listen everything - Maneskin, Ylvis(!!!), Aqua, ABBA, Army of Lovers and lots of names etc, rap, all from different singers, without any special preferences, the only thing is - if it’s rap, then Oxxymiron, my husband highly recommended it to me and turned on several songs that I really liked.

From Russian music – «Агата Кристи» is amazing, I like the most «Ария Мефистофеля». Not only because it is “Faust”, but it sung so well... OOOoooofff. And else Борис Гребенщиков, Пикник, Сплин, Канцлер Ги (1 song), Ногу Свело(1 song), Территория (1), Крематорий (2-3 songs)… Depends on the mood much.

I can list many more different titles. In my playlist can be found folk or old songs with modern performances. Well, sometimes something very funny that gets into my head and I listen those more and more, for example, suddenly «Едем в соседнее село» xdddd, Jožin Z Bažin by Ivan Mladek and Banjo band (it’s gold), Nightcore - Beethoven Virus, some Vocaloid songs (but not dramatic)…

And sometimes while listening music VK, I totally forgot that on my playlists are randomly placed Micolash quotes, so if after a sad songs goes «Ohohohoho Majestic!» or crazy howling – it’s completely usual situation, and I can’t get used to it, but don’t want to change xD

Thanks for asking too :'^)

[kennysaysthings]

10 songs I’ve been listening to lately :) —> tagged by @number-one-hog-hater (thank you sm I appreciate it!)

Apologies because my music taste is truly all over the place

1. Im pretty much always on the hunt for new music so I haven’t been listening to this that long but this song comes from my favorite album at the moment! This artist actually only has 88 monthly listeners on Spotify but I found it on Bandcamp.

2. This song really surprised me when I found myself listening to it all the time! It’s very good really upbeat if you like that sort of thing, it reminds me of quite a few characters. I love Side Hustle- another band that deserves more attentions 120 monthly listeners but again I do find most of my music elsewhere.

3. I actually don’t like many songs from this artist but I love this song! It’s so upbeat and it reminds me of summer in a way only a few other songs can.

4. Is another song that truly reminds me of warm weather and shaved ice and travel in general is Daylight! My mom is actually the one who influenced me liking Matt and Kim.

5. Another Matt and Kim song I just can’t not add, it has everything Daylight has and it’s really interesting that this song reminds me of both characters and people I know.

6. Everything about this song has me tripping over my words trying to explain how much I loved it when I first found it and how differently I find myself loving it now. At first I found it had an odd sound to it but I still liked it and then the first change in the song happens and you sort of just sit there like “will it do it again?” And then it does but better than the first time. This artist has 3 monthly listeners please check them out such a unique sound.

7. Another summer song I highly recommend! Cup Cup is actually so good their other songs are amazing but this has got to be my favorite!

8. This song is something I found on a whim and instantly fell in love with the sound, everything about it made me want to write again and love my interests because I just kept thinking “someone made this and it is so beautiful” and I can make something beautiful. In other words this song makes me feel really upset in a good way, you’ll get it when you listen to it (if you do 🙏)

9. Wow this song. The sound the lyrics the tempo the rhythm, truly everything has entrapped me in this song. It’s faster than the last song but it’s sort of in the same genre but it is amazing. (Another artist that deserves more love with only 767 monthly listeners!)

10. I could do so many more but why not end this list with a bang, I found this song I want to say two years ago, unfortunately it’s been lost on me a bit but it’s a song that is full of love and it’s upbeat and it’s something I remember really loving at the time and I still do love it sitting here going through old playlists and listening to them made me think about how I’m a very different person than I was, this song sort of foreshadowed songs I listen to today :)

Again sorry when I talk about songs I really talk about them and how they make me feel even if I can’t quite describe it.

Tagging: @evil-wtch @manywinged @milo-is-queer @thyqueerblueberry @the-names-kam @thedudewithfivenames @denfucker (sorry if you’ve already been tagged!)

[stardustloki]

20 QUESTIONS FOR FIC WRITERS

many thanks @here-be-bec for the tag! I am responding instead of writing because procrastination is real atm!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

64. It almost doubled over febuwhump!

2. What is your total AO3 word count?

306,575 :D

3. What fandoms do you write for?

At the moment, my main fandoms are star wars, but I have written for the avengers, hdm and doctor who.

4. What are you top five fics by kudos?

The Monster Under the Bed (Marvel)

Another Chance (Marvel)

A Quiet Normal Life (Marvel)

Secrets Revealed (Clone Wars)

Flinching (Clone Wars)

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

I try my best to and usually manage it! I feel like people who've left a comment deserve to know how much I appreciate them. There are some that I haven't responded to, mostly because ADHD time-blindness is real.

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

This is hard! Either 'I hate you' or 'A taste of freedom'.

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

This is harder. Maybe my first fic on ff.net 'Ancient Artifacts' or 'The Monster Under the Bed'? They were both longfic so I guess there was payoff at the end?

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Sometimes! My favourite hate comments (made brief) are as follows:

I hate Thor, he's basically Hitler (okay, sure buddy????)

Your chapter title made me think that we were gonna get x snake from norse mythology (ah well, I apologise for the fact that there are multiple snakes in Norse myths. I imagined there were things you liked in the 50,000 words you read before this tho, right???)

Your writing is garbage because it's unfinished (this commenter had clearly never seen a one-shot in their life before!)

9. Do you write smut?

Uh. I hint at it and that is as far as I go.

10. Do you write crossovers?

I did in the past. When I was 15 I wrote an Avengers/Big Bang Theory crossover!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Only by websites pretending to be ao3 - at least as far as I am aware.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope, but I have done translations!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

I have, with @twainxavier! I am currently writing one with @here-be-bec! Collabing is really fun and tbh am always down for it!

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

This is hard. I occasionally like ships and then the interest fades. I am too aromantic tbh!

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

Maybe A Quiet Normal Life. I require my marvel hyperfixation to return! Like, in my head it is just on hiatus, but I need to consider the fact I have not updated in a year :(

16. What's your writing strengths?

I like to think I am fairly good at pacing and consistent characterisation.

17. What's your writing weaknesses?

Probably writing things that don't devolve into angst. Things need to be painful for them to have meaning to me!

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

I enjoy it, I even invented a mando'a swearword! When it's a real language I am fairly obsessed with making sure the words are accurate though.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Doctor Who, when I was 6 years old!

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

In terms of enjoyment, it has to be the monster under the bed! In terms of the fic I'm most proud of at the moment. Hmmm, maybe 'you asked for this'?

I can be found as MagicalStardust on ao3!

Tagging @twainxavier @amberskyyking and @hidingaway1995 and seriously anyone else who wants to do it! Please imagine I tagged you (I'm just bad at remembering who I follow that writes fic!)