#absolutely kicking myself I should have known better

[as-is-above-so-below]

Cardigan - John Price x F!Teacher!Reader

Part 1: It Starts In A Bar

summary: your friends take you out to a local pub when you would much rather be grading assignments. a/n: hello! big surprise, me writing for john price! I don't know how long this will be, but I definitely have a general idea of where I want this to go. I hope y'all like it!

thank you @lethalchiralium for dragging me into the clubhouse kicking and screaming LMAO << Previous | Next >>

Why did they pick this place again?

Ah, right. “It’s a hometown pub, a staple to the community,” they said. That was clear from the couple dozen men and women, ranging from middle-aged to elderly, scattered about, and a few younger folks peppered into the crowd. It wasn’t run down by any means, just…a dive. You mindlessly picked at the peanuts and pretzels in little bowls, elbows perched on the edge of the sticky table, for hours. You chatted and occasionally laughed at the stories they shared about their homeroom students and the shenanigans the other grades got up to. You’d been teaching year thirteen for a while, students taking their A-levels in history. 

It was supposed to be a quiet evening, spent with a stack of papers to grade, surrounded by glowing candles scattered around your apartment accompanied by soft white string lights stretched across the ceiling. Instead, your friends somehow managed to drag you out of your cozy home to a dark dive in town. You loved them dearly (really, you did), but you had a routine. Your ideal Friday night wasn’t in a damp bar.

Your kids could be challenging at times in their late teens. They occasionally cause trouble, known for getting into fights, interrupting class, or bringing drama into the classroom. Nevertheless, you’d never had a set of students that was more than you could handle. They turned their work in on time and were always nosy about your personal life, which – much to their chagrin – was uneventful. Your love life was stale, to put it nicely. And your friends tried everything in their power to set you up on dates, every single one striking out miserably. It didn’t feel natural to meet some guy at a restaurant for a blind date.

One of them talked about themselves the entire time, barely letting you get a word in. The next ordered about three more drinks than you and a meal that cost twice as much as yours but demanded you split the cost of the date. You were all for splitting the bill but on the first date? Not a good impression.

The rest were uninteresting and immemorable.

“Seriously? You haven’t been on a date since – Oh, what was his name again?”

“Zachary,” you pointed out, taking a long sip of your drink. “You should know; you set up the date.”

“I know, I know. I didn’t realize he was such a bore one-on-one.”

“Thanks for that, by the way. Loved talking to myself for two hours.”

You all laughed at the memory, starting to finish drinks and gather belongings. “Let’s get to the next spot to find you a man!”

Bar hopping was the absolute last thing you wanted to do, but you knew better than to resist. It would all be over much faster if you just went along. Your companions were much quicker on their exit, considering the nearly-full drink that you felt like you just bought, and they were already moving on to the next dig. You threw the rest of your drink back, flinching as the big gulp of alcohol burned down your throat, and hurried to catch up with them. You took one of their outstretched hands, giggling as they just about pulled you into the circle exiting the pub–

“Excuse me, miss!” a deep voice called out. You’re not sure why, but you turned, feeling like the man was calling out to you. Your assumption turned out to be correct, and a tall, dark-haired man with a beard and a soft smile approached you. “Sorry, you left this.”

He held your cardigan to you. You must have abandoned it in your haste.

“Oh! Thank you so much. That’s kind of you,” you said, taking the garment back and draping it over your forearm. “I’d forget my head if it weren’t attached,” you added, tapping your temple with a soft chuckle.

“Quite alright.” Behind you, an elbow nudged your spine; you barely caught yourself from making a face and snapping at whichever acquaintance decided to egg you on. “I’d offer to buy you a drink, but it seems you’re heading out.”

He certainly was handsome. His beard was well-groomed, just like his hair. It looked like he went to a barber fairly recently. He even dressed well, in a cream, ribbed polo tucked loosely into his jeans. Dark chest hair peeked out where the top two buttons were undone. It was an enticing offer…

“Um, yeah, but….” You looked over your shoulder and met expectant glances. Some looked like they were about to bust apart at the seams with glee, which made you roll your eyes. Clearly, you wouldn’t be missed. “I could hang for a little while longer.”

The man's smile grew, and his stance shifted to open a path toward the bar. “Are you sure? Y’don’t have to,” he amended, his hands in his pockets. His energy was warm and soft but still masculine. He held a confidence that not many people carried, at least not the men you’d been on dates with recently. And the Liverpool accent? Maybe things were starting to look up.

“No, no, I honestly need another drink.” You flashed your teeth back to him, folding your arms over your chest with your sweater in hand.

“In that case, after you.”

Before taking his arm, you realized you’d yet to even ask for his name. “Thank you…?”

“John.” John’s right hand hovered before you and he flashed his bright teeth. His hands were clean, nails neatly trimmed. Although, one nail bed was bruised.

Man, he’s pretty for a grown man.

“Y/N,” you replied with an easy grin. He kept a steady hold on your gaze, carefully examining the bright twinkle they held. You didn’t know it, but John had just returned from a long mission. One that had left him yearning for a shower, a haircut, and somebody to come home to. He’d never had anything to look forward to and stay alive for; no affection or comfort after a rough assignment, no one to care for and spoil.

And he wanted that.

“A surname to that, John?” you asked, sliding your hand through the loop he created with his elbow. Holy shit, he was strong. Your hand rested on the soft but well-built muscle of his bicep. You figured he must have a labor-intensive job, or he goes to the gym frequently. John didn’t seem like the type to spend hours at the gym in his spare time, so you went with the first option. You’d keep that in mind when making small talk later.

“John Price.”

“Very regal name.”

John scoffed but laughed nonetheless. “That’s the first time I’ve heard that.”

John couldn’t take his eyes off of you. You were unbelievably bubbly, especially for interacting with a stranger who only gave back your forgotten cardigan. He’d been watching you from his spot at the bar, laughing with your friends but zoning out every once in a while. He was no stranger to giving himself a mental break, particularly in a hectic environment like a packed bar on a cool, Friday evening.

“I’ll call you when I need a ride!”

You and John watched the giggly group exit the pub, happily waving as they piled into a cab. You waved back with your free hand, your other palm still pressed against his warm skin. They didn’t embarrass you too badly, thank god. You met John’s eyes, a dark color twinkling with mischief.

“Your friends seem chipper.”

“I’m so sorry. They’re just happy to see me talking to a man.” 

“Oh? Is that right?” he chuckled, nodding to your previously held table. John broke away briefly to retrieve his unfinished drink and denim jacket from the bar.

You followed his lead back to the booth, attempting to keep control of the flush you felt beginning to heat your cheeks. “They’ve set me up on many an unfortunate date. Not saying I don’t get along fine on my own, but–”

“It’s rough out there?” he finished, sliding into the cushioned seat across from you. When you nodded in return, John smirked. “Believe me. I get it. My career makes it difficult to find time for much of anything.”

“Yeah, well, I have sixteen kids.”

The man sputtered, choking on what looked to be an old-fashioned. Possibly a bad joke, but it was such a great opportunity; you were feeling frisky, and you couldn’t help the giggles that erupted following his reaction. “I teach history for year thirteen.”

“Oh, thank Christ.” John wiped the cocktail off his lip with the back of his hand, shaking his head at your laughter. “You had me going there. Five minutes into our date, and I’ve made a mess of myself.”

You quirked a brow. “So this is a date?”

“Isn’t it?”

“Well, I would consider it light conversation. Getting to know each other.”

“That’s a date.”

“Mmm, I’d say it’s more casual than that.”

“I’m not looking for casual, love.”

You paused, examining his calm demeanor. He didn’t seem cocky, but honest, a welcome change to the pattern you’d observed over the last few months. None of your dates had been so bold as to know what they want and make their intentions clear. Especially not so quickly. It was refreshing.

“Me neither.”

“Good.”

You both sat in peace, pausing your conversation for the waitress. You ordered another drink, as promised, and folded your hands on the tabletop, fingers laced. “So, what do you do, John?” you asked, tapping your thumbs together.

“I’m in the military.”

You paused, expectantly waiting for him to continue, only to be met with silence.

“Care to elaborate?”

He tutted once with his tongue pressed against the back of his teeth. “I would love to, but I can’t.”

Interesting. Normally, resistance like that would be a red flag. On the other hand, his job could be “classified” or whatever is said in the movies. No alarms went off in your mind; your intuition told you that John was trustworthy, so you let it go. The pretty brunette dropped your new drink off and another for John.

“I can tell you that I’m a Captain.”

“So you have pretend kids too?”

His eyes crinkled at the corners as he hummed, swirling the whiskey in his glass. A slight tinge of the citrus notes from the expressed orange peel wafted across the table. John’s laugh was distinctive, chesty and rumbly, inviting. “Of course. Mine are bigger, though, I’m sure.”

“Oh? They’re not scrawny little soldiers?”

“No. One’s almost two meters tall.”

“Jesus. How many?”

“Five. Gaz, Ghost, Soap, Alex, and Farah.”

“Well, I for one can’t wait to meet them.”

“Likewise.”

You fussed with your hair for about the thousandth time in your bathroom mirror and huffed when it wouldn’t settle right. John was to meet you in about fifteen minutes. Knowing him, that meant he would be buzzing up to your apartment any second. You’d been on a few dates and knew his date habits pretty well. If you’re not fifteen minutes early, you’re late. You had been out to dinner, grabbed coffee once or twice; you even grabbed an ice cream. So, it was a surprise when John suggested a trip to the museum. It didn’t seem like his thing, but you weren’t about to turn down a trip to the history exhibit.

As you expected, a familiar BZZT BZZT reverberated through your flat, signaling his arrival. The first time he picked you up, you let him into the building without using the intercom. You tried explaining that the speaker broke and your landlord had yet to fix it (shocker), but John wouldn’t hear it. You could have been letting in a random creep pressing buttons until some tenant unlocked the door. He insisted on creating a little system, so you would know it was him downstairs and not a kidnapper. From then on, he always rang the bell twice.

You gave up on your hair, switched the light off, and paged him in. Your unit was on the first floor (which wasn’t ideal), so it only took John a few seconds to reach your door. When you heard a knock at your door, you peered through the peephole (as promised) before unlocking the deadbolt, revealing a very well-dressed captain. John’s hair was a bit shaggy, but it suited him well. Your heart fluttered helplessly at the bright smile that appeared when he laid eyes on you, his gaze obviously taking in the sight before him.

It was a weeknight, and you didn’t have time to change between school and your usual errands. You threw a plaid skirt, thigh-high socks, and loose sweater together; just a sliver of skin showed between the top of your socks and hem of your skirt. You felt underdressed compared to John, but there wasn’t much you could do about it. 

“Hi,” he said, leaning to kiss your cheek. “You look lovely.”

“Same to you. You always clean up well.”

“If you saw the state I’m usually in at work – you’d understand why.”

John kept a watchful eye to make sure you turned both locks for your door before guiding you outside to a waiting taxi with a hand on the small of your back. He held the door to your building and the car open for you. The drive was short, but the weather was starting to catch a bit of a chill, and you didn’t want to walk too far.

Ever the gentleman, the captain followed closely behind you up the steps to the gallery. Even if he weren’t perceptive, with years of experience reading people, he could tell you were excited to be there; however, he wasn’t so experienced in the ‘romance’ department. John honestly couldn’t even remember the last time he visited any museum, let alone a dedicated history exhibition. But when he suggested it and assured you that he would have a good time, he was only being partially truthful. Secretly, the man just wanted an excuse to listen to you talk. What better place to bring you than an exhibit where he knew you would talk his ear off for hours?

You slowly worked your way through each exhibit, explaining some pieces you recognized and their significance to the period; at displays you weren’t familiar with, you both quietly hovered closer to the title cards, reading through the description. While that kind of date wasn’t John’s usual cup of tea, he was glad he planned it; it helped him figure out how to slow the fuck down and try to be normal outside of a military setting or a pub.

His breath nearly stuttered every time you laid a gentle hand on his arm and drew his attention to the next section, beaming as you animately but quietly pointed out the tiny details in a Renaissance painting hung on the wall. The man couldn’t help but stare at how your lips curved at every syllable, wide eyes glued on the intricate scene portrayed. John hadn’t spoken much so far aside from the occasional affirmation that he was listening; he was very much in his head, unsure if you were excited to be there with him or just excited to be there. But, standing in front of the big painting, you went quiet. You met his gaze, and his lips pulled into a lopsided grin, which you returned before you both shifted back to the artwork. It was peaceful, absorbing the atmosphere and just existing together. Suddenly, John was jolted out of his reverie by the feeling of something brushing the side of his palm. 

You were itching to hold his hand all night but were too nervous to take that leap. What if he rejected you? That wasn’t likely after so many dates, but still. Your nerves got the better of you for the better half of the self-guided tour. Regardless, you had managed to work up the courage, cautiously grazing your pinky against his wrist and hand before wrapping it around his. You didn’t look away from the illustration, but he did, moving to you, then down to your hands.

He simply stared for a moment, surprised but positively giddy at the same time. Surely enough, John took your hand in his, interlocking your fingers and leaning just a bit closer to you. He could stand there forever, basking in your warmth and energy, the sound of your voice sinking into his every thought–

“Oh no,” you said, breaking the silence. You looked up at him worried, wrinkles forming between your brows. “I-I’m sorry. I was teaching again.”

He immediately gave you a reassuring squeeze, thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Don’t be. I like hearing you talk.” Jesus, did he have a way with words. He liked hearing you talk? With that accent, he could spew nonsense, and it would still draw you in. But hearing John Price give you compliments and praise? Flattery? You were a goner. “Tell me more about the next one?”

As if he could get any more fucking perfect.

“Okay.”

Copyright © 2023 as-is-above-so-below. All rights reserved.

[witchy-scribblings]

the way he cares

haganezuka hotaru x reader

synopsis ➳ somehow, the worst part of being involved in a mild car accident isn't the actual accident, but having to deal with your annoying mechanic.

warnings ➳ car accidents, cussing, can be read as either platonic or romantic, lowercase

wordcount ➳ 0.7k

[crossposted on ao3]

“care to explain what the actual fuck happened to you?”

you had been dreading this moment all morning. well, actually, you had been dreading it for way longer than that. from the moment you were released from the hospital and fully comprehended the damage that your car had sustained, you had known that hotaru, your trusty (and that was the only kind way you could put it) mechanic, was going to give you absolute hell.

you were so not looking forward to it that you seriously considered pretending you weren’t home when you saw his old but reliable towing pickup truck pulling up in your driveway. alas, you had been the one to call him to get your car (if it could be considered a car anymore) to his workshop, so he knew that you were home and you knew that he’d kick down the door if you didn’t come out yourself.

“some fucker hit my car from behind and i got whiplash.” at this point, you had explained what had happened so many times, to the doctors, to your car insurance advisor, to your family and friends, that you had exhausted any patience you would have once spared the infuriating man. hotaru was known for asking the right questions in all the wrong ways, it was just that today you weren’t feeling like putting up with his usual bullshit. “so? can you fix my car or do i need to find a new mechanic?”

at that, he looked downright offended. “of course i can, who the hell do you take me for?” he delivered a hard look to your poor car and its misshapen rear, clicking his tongue. “you’re lucky this is covered by insurance. all this fucking damage…”

“no shit, haganezuka. i have eyes,” you scoff, and he doesn’t answer. instead, he sets to work loading your car onto the tow dolly attacked to the back of his pickup. you watched silently, wanting nothing more than to go back home and rest because your neck was a constant pain in the arse and the relentless july heat was making your neck sweat and itch uncomfortably under the cervical collar.

“you should be more careful,” he speaks suddenly, roughly, bringing you back from your thoughts, and you would have caught the hint of care if you hadn’t been pissed off by the way he dared to express it.

“don’t give me that fucking shit, hotaru. as if it’s my fault that someone else wasn’t paying attention on the road-”

“didn’t mean it like that,” he sighed raggedly, running a hand along the back of his neck, trying to collect the stray hairs that escaped his long ponytail. he didn’t bother elaborating, you didn’t think he had it in him. but you understood, regardless.

“i know,” your voice comes out surprisingly soft, and you see his lips press into the tight line that you’ve long associated to him trying to conceal any visible emotion other than anger.

hotaru is hopping back onto his own vehicle sooner than you can realize and, if you didn’t know better, you’d say he was avoiding looking at you. looks like that was more sincerity than he could stand in one morning.

“the towing service isn’t covered by insurance, but you can manage the fee, it won’t sting like a bitch.” he’d do that, start rambling when you knew he was feeling embarrassed. “i’ll call you when it’s ready to pick up, or bring it back here myself, whatever, but know that it’s gonna take a shit-long time. not that you can drive like that, anyways.” he buckled up, checking his mirrors reflexively and still not bothering to look at you. the fucker.

“maybe i’ll just start calling you to drive me places,” you tease, and that does earn you a hurried, offended glare to which you would have shrugged if your neck wasn’t so messed up. “i mean, i have groceries to buy, for example, which i might also need help with taking inside and putting away.” 

“you’re such a brat,” he grumbles, and you grin despite your predicament. his lips curl into a small, sneering smile of his own. “i’ll charge you for that.”

“of course you will.”

[dj-bynum3718]

Of Fire and Ice - Chapter 12

Melissa Schemmenti X reader X Larissa Weemes   

Summary: talking things through.

Words: 1242

Notes:*drops and runs away* sorry for disappearing….. working 3 jobs kills but I’ve now gotten a better job and only have to work 1 now.

Warnings: arguing

The walk back to the room was horrible. The silence is deafening and you feel yourself trembling, and you could feel the tension between all three of you. The moment you see the door your fight or flight starts kicking in again, but you know that you can’t run.

That’s where you are now, standing in front of the two of them sitting on the bed looking at you expectantly. “well… are we gonna talk about this?” Larissa asked kind of cold. you suppose that you should, you have a lot you need to get off your chest anyways

“look hun, you really hurt us when you ran like that. We just want to understand why, what was the purpose behind it? Was it something we did? She sound so meek when she speaks and It hurts your heart.

“No! Y-you didn’t do anything it was me I just I got into my head. Okay? ….i-I didn’t think about the repercussions when it happened. I just ran.”

Melissa looks at you incredulously “You just ran? That’s the answer that you’re giving us.” “you just ran that’s not good enough! you ran away the first time and now you’re doing it again I can’t trust you anymore!” That hurt, and Larissa was right. How do you expect her to trust you when you’ve done this, not once, but twice.

“Larissa that was different and you know that, you let me walk out you broke up with me.” You try to justify yourself and She looks at you Absolutely gob smacked “you could’ve fought harder, you could’ve stayed! I didn’t want you to go!”

“You put your work before us I tried. I sat there and tried, but nothing I did ever worked with you. I made time for you, but you couldn’t make time for me!” “Hey! This isn’t about your break up. That was in the past, and not what we’re talking about now!” Melissa stands up in between the both of you, making you realize that you were shouting.

“(Y/n) hon just tell me what was going on in your head. Help me understand.” Melissa has her hands on your shoulders looking you in the eyes. “I don’t know! I don’t know why it happened or when it started, but I started doubting myself thinking that y’all were gonna fall in love with each other and leave me. I couldn’t let that happen so my only logical thing to do was run! looking back, I was being an idiot.”

You look up at Larissa. “I’m sorry I left. I’m sorry I left the both of you. I shouldn’t have that was wrong of me, but I was scared. Both of you have been running through my dreams for as long as I can remember, now that I have both of you it was too good to be true. I didn’t know what to do. I was just waiting for the shoe to drop, but when it never did, I decided to drop it myself and I’m sorry.” You ramble trying to make sure you get it all out before you are interrupted.

“I just kept saying to myself they’re too good for you. They’re going to leave you they’re gonna fall in love with each other and they’re gonna run away together.” Melissa looks so hurt and Larissa looks shocked. “Do you really think we would do that do-“Melissa cuts her off “Why would you think that, I came here with you! I only met her because of you!”

They look at each other and smile “now that doesn’t change the fact that there is feelings here, but that’s so new…for all of us.” All three of you were standing in the middle of the room. Larissa pulled you to her holding you softly then reaches for Melissa. She walks to both of you entering the embrace also.

You sigh as you try to calm yourself down holding them like life lines, you look at the both of them. “so now what?” You whisper “This is a conversation that we need to have but I’m kinda scared.” You cling to them letting your nerves be known. “Well… could this even work? Or Is this just a this weekend thing?” Melissa asks quietly. Your breath shudders and you can feel yourself almost shaking.

This could all unravel you know that. You’ve made yourself accept that. 30 minutes ago you were going to run, but now that they’ve pulled you back you have a sliver of hope. Ultimately you know it’s up to them, for you it’s all or nothing and you don’t know if they would be up for that.

You look at Melissa you know she’s coming back to Philly with you but, you turn and look at Larissa and realize she staying behind. This would put her being the odd one out, and while you know that FaceTime and calling is a thing having someone being left out is never good.

The silence is almost suffocating so you’re about to speak up again but Larissa beats you to it. “I want to continue to teach at nevermore to be the principal there. I’m willing to make this long-distance thing work.If you are both willing to try it with me.”

Melissa puts her hand on her cheek, smiling up at Larissa, nodding before turning and looking at you both expectantly “hon, I don’t wanna do this without you. You know while this isn’t something that would normally happen in the “Normie” world, I see it’s very normal amongst the outcasts. I’m willing to try being in a relationship with both of you. If you’re willing to try it with me.” Melissa held your hand. looking between the both of them you nod, “okay…” you whisper “yes okay I want to try this with the both of you. I want to try this….”

They smile pulling you into them holding you firmly between them. “(Y/N) if you ever feel any form of self doubt again you have to talk to us about it.” Larissa nods “No more running, I know it’s hard for all of us but we need to open about these things if this will work.” You nod, realistically you know she’s right but you have hardwired yourself into thinking internalizing everything is just better. “I’ll try.” You look between them “I’ll try I want this to work I want it to work so bad.”

“Can we just spend today cuddling?” You look at them and the look at each other. “That something we can do.” they pull you to the bed you curl around Melissa as Larissa spoons you, the stress finally leaves your shoulders and you relax. “You know… this isn’t something I thought was ever going to happen to me. But I’m glad it is.” Melissa’s nails scratch at your scalp softly

Larissa giggles against your back “as long as you are a good girl we shouldn’t have any problems.” You groan “Rissa you cant say things like that….” “Don’t get your hopes up sugar you are not getting lucky tonight.” You glance up at Melissa and she kisses the tip of your nose. You understand why so you just snuggle down getting comfortable in your spot where you are the most comfortable, pressed comfortably between your girls.

This could work. You have to make this work. They are willing to try. So this has to work.

@enchantressb @gwendolinechristieiscute

[so-many-fandoms-here]

(English isn’t my first language so feel free to correct any mistakes you notice.)

• Characters: Levi Ackerman, fem!Reader

• Genre: fluff, angst

• Warnings: existential crisis

„Who am I?“

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ

As I walk home from the market I quietly hum a song to myself. I feel my whole body tingle at the thought of this evening. Since the war against the titans is finally over, Levi and I have settled down. No more fights, no more orders, just him and I living the closest to a normal life we could possibly have after all we had to go through. And with that we finally got to try for a baby. A bit late for two people in their late thirties but for once fate meant it good with us and now I am here, about seven weeks pregnant. I have planned to make a nice dish, light a few candles and then to tell him. He will be so happy.

As I enter the door to our home I find Levi sitting on the floor, his wheelchair kicked over and his crutch has been broken in half. „Honey?“ I ask as I close the door and place the bags on the floor. „Is everything okay?“

„I‘m fine“, Levi says angry, obviously lying to me. He still can’t handle the fact that he can’t walk properly anymore. On good days he can walk short distances with his crutch but after a while he has to switch to his wheelchair and he absolutely despises it.

Carefully I walk towards him and crouch beside him. „May I help you getting up?“ „I said I‘m fine!“, he yells, making me startle at his volume. Instantly regret glows up in his tired eyes. „I‘m sorry.“

With a soft smile I sit down next to him and take his hand in mine. „It’s okay.“ But he shakes his head. „It’s not. I can’t just yell at you because I am frustrated over the fact that my leg is trash.“ I look over at the wooden crutch that’s showing it‘s sharp splinters at the position where it’s broken in half. Then I look at Levis hand to make sure he isn’t hurt. Even though he lost two fingers, his hands still have almost as much strength as they used to have a few years ago.

„I hate this feeling (Y/n)“, he whispers while he lets me take a closer look at his hands. „It scares me.“

After I examined his hands thoroughly I let go of them, to place my hands on his cheek. „You don’t need to be afraid anymore. It’s over Levi. We’re safe.“ But his eyes doesn’t soften, instead they start to fill up with tears. „That’s what’s scaring me.“

I let him cry, hoping it would make him feel a bit better. Softly I wipe away the hot tears that stream down his face while he shuts his eyes to make them stop pouring.

„I fought my whole life. My whole life was filled with fear, pain and war.“ Levi leans the weight of his head in my hand and I hold him. I will always hold him. „I was a known criminal in the underground, then I was a Captain, I was the strongest soldier of humanity. But now? Who am I now, (Y/n)? Who am I?“ His eyes find mine, desperate for an answer.

„You’re my husband“, I whisper with a smile. But my attempt to cheer him up failed, because now his sad eyes widen with shock. „Fuck, that sounded awful“, he cries out. I want to continue, but he interrupts me by grabbing my wrists. „I didn’t meant it like that! (Y/n), being your husband is the title I wear with the most pride. It’s just… It’s the only title that won’t bring me any pain.“

„I know Levi“, I reassure him with a slight giggle. „I didn’t interpret it like you thought.“ His grip softened again and he sighs relieved. „I should be happy because this is what I dreamed of but… It doesn’t feel real. It doesn’t feel right that I am supposed to be safe.“

It looks like he hardly gets the words out of him. I can’t even begin to imagine how difficult this has to be for him. Yes, I experienced immense pain too, but Levi hasn’t stop experiencing it since he was four years old. The fact that he survived all of this, a lot of it all alone, makes him to the strongest man alive in my eyes. But now it’s like his life was taken away from him, even though this is supposed to be a good thing, he needs to get used to it. This is all new and surely super overwhelming for him.

With tears in my eyes I pull him into a hug. „You were my husband all of the time. You were a best friend, a person of trust and a loved one all along. And you will stay that. Just like you always stay humanity‘s strongest. You’re so much.“ I peck him on the cheek before I start to list all of the things he is. „You’re the strongest man of human kind, I would even go further and say you’re a legend. You’re my husband, the father of our child, my best friend-“ „I’m what?“, he suddenly interrupts me and pushes me a bit away from him so he can look me in the eyes. With that I realize what I just said.

„You’re not messing with me, are you?“ Levis eyes are opened wide, tears sparkling in them again, but this time they were tears of joy. „This wasn’t the situation in which I wanted to tell you, but it does the job too I guess“, I say with a wide smile.

„Are you serious?“ he asks again, to which I only nod. „You better are, you know how bad I want this!“ I giggle over his ,thread‘. „I planned to cook a nice dinner and tell you then.“

This time he was the one to pull me into a hug. Still in disbelief he asks over and over again. „Are you sure?“ „Are you positive?“ „Is this really happening?“ To which I all answer with amused ‚yes‘s.

„You’re going to be a Daddy, Levi“, I eventually whisper in his ear to make him stop asking if this is real. „I’m going to be a Daddy“, he repeats. „I’m going to be a Dad. I’m going to be a father.“ He continues to say it over and over again, using every word for Father he knows. I don’t interrupt him this time, because this is by far the most happy I have seen him for a very long time.

[simplyholl]

Although I was a constant lurker for months, today marks my one year as a Loki writer. It has been so fun whoring out with all of you. There have been too many laughs to count. By some miracle, I’ve reached a little over 1,000 followers. I’m shook that so many of you are interested in partaking in my wildest fantasies. But I am so thankful for all of you. If you have read, liked, commented, or reblogged anything - thank you from the bottom of my heart! I love reading every wild thing you have to say about these scenes I’ve created.

Sometimes I will just sit there and read your comments over and over in complete shock that my words would elicit such responses. I am so thankful for our little corner of the internet where we can unashamedly be ourselves. We all have different backgrounds, cultures, and lives but we can all agree we just want our favorite god to dick us down.

I’ve made lifelong friends from doing this, and I would’ve never met them otherwise.

@lokisgoodgirl Thank you for giving me the kick in the cooch I needed to start posting my writing. I would have none of this, if it wasn’t for you. Your words of encouragement mean everything to me. Thank you for being my tech expert for the first little bit. I would never give anyone else my login info. You’ve helped me get through some of the toughest times of my life and I am forever grateful for your friendship. I love listening to your voice notes. Your “Good morning” always puts a smile on my face. I hope we can meet in person one day, although I can’t promise that I would keep my hands to myself. I love you endlessly.

@wheredafandomat I only met you at the end of January, but it feels like I have known you my whole life. Is it possible for two people to share the same brain? Because I’m sure that we do. You can make a 2 hour phone call feel like 5 minutes. I’m lucky to have you in my life. My frequent collaborator and birthday twin - I love you so much.

I couldn’t think of a celebration that I wanted to do, but I wanted to share some of my favorite comments over the course of my time on here.

#burdened with a glorious manhood

-@coldnique

The threat to use his vibranium hand to do the choking was just the cherry on top of my death day cake. This is a filthy masterpiece

- @joyful-enchantress

Well spank me sideways, this went from O-deranged in 2.5 seconds AND I'M NOT MAD ABOUT IT

- @thedistractedagglomeration

Ohhhhhh he talks her out of her hero panties and in to his heart

- @cakesandtom

"sit on his face darling" l'm not gonna survive another paragraph I swear to god.this is too much in the best way

- @lokisgoodgirl

The thought of being an avenger and having Loki fuck you senseless is stupid hot, but add into it him talking about making you carry his secret sex baby and still be an avenger is 🔥🔥🔥

- @itsybitchylittlewitchy

Take that you little shit! I am so glad he saw them together and still mounted at that!

- @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed

I mean it's a fitting description after all the devil is tempting and so is Lokis dick

- @fictive-sl0th

You had me at President Loki and biting!

- @marygoddessofmischief

should have really realized that it was you, my dear, who wrote this!

- @smolvenger

I don't need legs, l'll just drag myself around.

- @goblingirlsarah

Spelling his....spelling his name.. ☠️☠️

- @lokisgoodgirl

absolute genius. i read the part about considering staying with him even if just for the sex and i was like "YOU GO Y/N GO GET THAT MULTIVERSAL ASGARDIAN DICK"

- @muddyorbsblr

Yeah Narfi you little bitch. Take that!

- @wheredafandomat

This was so naughty!!! When the vacuum fell and he was like, "fuck it" then continues to pound you harder!!! 🥵🥵🥵

- @mochie85

I neeeed a tall Loki to be my coworker for the job I don't have so he can fuck me in the storage closet

- @wheredafandomat

The best part of waking up is Bucky & Loki in your cup!! WAY better than Folgers.

- @km-ffluv

IT WAS PHENOMENAL. would have tears in my eyes with how proud I am if I wasn't so horny

- @lokisgoodgirl

Just for fun,

If anyone wants to give it a re-read, here’s the first fic I posted.

Snowed In

And this is actually the first thing I wrote

Across the Multiverse

It’s been a great year. I can’t wait to share more horny, unhinged, wild fantasies with you in the next one.

All my love,

-Holly 💚🖤

[bloodpen-to-paper]

Heya, I don't plan to talk about it much but due to what happened with forever, who was my fav and really the heart of the project for me, I'm probably not going to post about Qsmp much anymore. Or if I do, it'll take a while. But please read if you're in the same boat as me, its kind of a ramble and you can skip certain parts but I'd like to hear your thoughts. The last couple of paragraphs touch on some stuff that I hope can help be worth your while, whether you're here for the Qsmp stuff or the mental health part.

Now this is absolutely not to say the rest of the project doesn't matter or that people should give up on it. The Qsmp is incredible and should be known for what it has achieved: breaking language barriers and uniting communities. Its wonderful, unique, and still has so much to offer in terms of content creation, so please don't let the whole of it be tarnished for what happened with one creator (we've seen that before already and it sucks). Personally, it got me back into streaming content/mcyt and I'd like to stay more present this time, its so much fun and its nice knowing I can sort of drift back and forth when new things pop up. If you're in the same boat, I encourage you to not feel like its all over immediately if you still feel a passion for this kind of work, maybe you won't get back into it but maybe you just need a bit of time. Whatever you feel, as long as you're happy and having fun you're doing it right.

So, personal feelings (which I suck at but its better than bottling my thoughts and I encourage others to do the same). I'm fucking devastated lmao. His character was my absolute hyperfixation, I'm talking 24/7 brainrot for months. I haven't felt this passionate for a character since dsmp, I honestly didn't know I could still do it. But there's another layer. I live in the U.S., and I'm Brasilian-American. In the U.S., you don't hear anyone saying shit about Brasil. You hear a lot about Mexico, but nothing really south of that, and if you do its usually about sexualizing Brasilian women or narcotics and gang stuff. Not the best representation for little me, admittedly. When you-know-who won the Qsmp Election, y'all I felt something in me spark to life that I hadn't felt since we won the Olympic soccer tournament in Rio in 2016. I'm proud to be Brasilian, I've always been proud of it, but its a pride that's been limited to sports and my own personal experiences. To see myself represented, to see Brasil naturally enter the conversation for a piece of media I loved that I didn't know would have us, and to see us win something, phew, shit got me higher than my wisdom tooth removal. We Brasilians banded together to secure the win, and what's more, my fav cc on the project was the one at the center. I felt so happy, for my country, my community, and for myself. And I know recent events might taint that memory for some of us, but I refuse to look back on my feelings from back then negatively. That was one of the best damn moments in my chronically online life, and I will always remember it with pride and joy, along with the many other moments when this wonderful server made me proud to be me.

So, naturally, when the news hit I was pretty fucked up over it. Still am tbh, but better now that I've had sleep (though it took me a while to fall asleep because of course my sleep gets ruined by bad feelings, bleh). All this to ultimately say it sucks. Like, it really fucking sucks. The anxiety, the disappointment, the sadness, and the uncertainty of "what now?". Might be sounding dramatic but again, 24/7 brainrot/serotonin supply for months that connected me to my culture abruptly cut off because of pedophile allegations. C'mon Satan, I already have to go to therapy, you didn't have to kick this horse while it was down. Joking aside, if you feel as absolute dogshit as I do and have that kind of anxiety where the world feels like its about to end because moments like these leave you with the rug pulled out from under you and the uncertainty leaves you not knowing what to do with your life after this... well, welcome to the boat, bathroom's on the lower deck and snacks are in the lobby. And also I'm here, and everyone else who's been left in the same crummy place emotionally. We're here together, and I hope that can help you, cause I know for me the worst part is feeling alone in it all, but I'm not, and neither are you. We're here, holding hands and cursing existence for putting us here and making us so sensitive and giving us something great only for it to end up hurting us. We're here, and if you wanna say anything, my DMs, comments, asks, whatever you'd want to talk through, are all open.

Now comes the hardest part: acknowledgement and playing the waiting game. Like I said, if you're feeling like me, this kind of anxiety and disappointment has you feeling like its all over. So now's when you gotta remind yourself that the only thing that's over is this moment in your life when you enjoyed a Thing. That Thing can have meant a lot to you, it could have gotten you out of really dark places, and it could be something you'll still think about down the line. It can be something like minecraft cube people that you (I) got way too emotionally attached to. And for whatever reason, that Thing could have meant the absolute world, whether other people would've understood it or not. Its not your fault it ended the way it did, life just does that sometimes, as unsatisfying of an answer as that is. But its true, and its an important lesson. The Thing is over.

You know what's not over though? You. You're life. Whatever the hell you are doing and will do in the future. If this was the best thing in your life you had going for you, I am so fucking sorry. You deserved to be happy with it, we both did. But I promise you, this Thing is a moment in your story, not the whole story. This really was the source of my joy for the past few months, and if its the same for you, I see you. We can feel like shit together, along with the rest of this wonderful community who understand it too. And you know what else we're gonna do? Live, and move on. Not now, maybe not for while, but we're human beings, we persist (sometimes that might look like you're dragging your battered self out of a trench smelling like depression and expired cheese, but you'll get out of the trench, we both will). There's too much to life for this to be what stops you from finding the rest, whether that's some dramatic life change that completely changes the world as you know it for the better... or just figuring out what comes next. Taking a shower, watching that movie you were waiting for the right moment to watch (I'd say this qualifies), setting up a therapy appointment maybe. Whatever you do to feel like a person again, you have that to do, and later down the road you'll have new Things that give it all meaning. So keep yourself going, hit up me or others who would get it, and do what you gotta do to let it pass. Because it will pass.

Deep breaths friend, I'll be cheering for you when it does

[undreaming-fanfiction]

With This Ring (1)

Also posting here if you want to avoid Ao3 for some reason :) A Corpse Bride Steddie AU you didn't know you needed. Steddie Big Bang 2023 - project 202, brought to you by myself and two wonderful artists, @yellowsweater-bluevest and @mcdadarts.

"So...a big day tomorrow?" 

Steve didn't even look up from the piano. He just chuckled, a mixture of bitterness and amusement that felt like his personal brand, a perfect description of his life. His fingers were moving over the keyboard in natural, long practiced strokes. "Something like that," he said. 

He noticed movement on his left as Robin walked to the window to check the blinds, to make sure they shielded her and Steve from any and all unwanted attention. It didn't matter that the only thing they could see were the woods around Robin's house, Hawkins had eyes everywhere. 

The shuffling finally quieted down and Robin leaned against Steve, patting his shoulder. “You’ve really improved, you know that? You’re much better than me now and the hesitation you had a few months back is gone. I don’t give praise just to anyone, but you should be proud.” She smelled like dried flowers and Steve huffed out a quiet laugh. Just like Robin to act all tough and snarky but keep all the flowers that she was given. 

“Thanks. Both for the praise and for letting me practice here.” He didn’t add that she might as well have been the only person who appreciated his playing, who saw how much it meant to him. Or that if his father knew about his hobby, he would have likely smashed the piano to pieces and if one or two of Steve’s fingers happened to be collateral damage, well. Two birds, one stone. Instead, he slowly brought his hands into a coda and stilled his fingers, let the melody linger in the air for a bit longer. “When is she coming?” 

Robin checked her watch and blushed, much to Steve’s amusement. “Any minute now.” 

“You know you have nothing to be nervous about, right?” When she didn’t respond, he nudged her side one, two times, until she wheezed and grasped his fingers. “It’s not like you have that stupid rehearsal tomorrow. And everything will go,” he straightened his spine, adopting a stern expression very closely mimicking his father, “according to plan.” 

That finally made her chuckle and relax. “And what a plan that is! Fantastic, magnificent, absolutely riveting. And if someone decides to show up, we’ll just finalize the details-”

The bell rang, stopping her rambling. Robin immediately left his side, almost skipping to the door as Steve watched her go, trying to fix her hair in the process. He felt a strange pull in his heart – he used to think it was jealousy, but now he finally knew what it was. Yearning. Seeing someone so happy, he thought that maybe one day, when all of this was over, maybe then- 

Once they made sure the door was closed, Nancy greeted Robin with a gentle peck on her lips and made her way into the living room. “Hi Steve. Ready for the big day?”

He laughed as he squeezed her hand in greeting. “Oh, absolutely, can’t wait to practice my vows and see both our families rejoice at the flawless performance.” 

“Steve, your sarcasm is showing.” Nancy rolled her eyes, but her smile betrayed the pretend annoyance. 

“Oh, is it? Sorry.” His fingers returned to the keyboard, grazing their surface. “Anyway, you have a date to get to and I’m here to provide an alibi. Would you like your favorite song to kick it off?” 

Before Nancy could react, Robin gently moved her to the side, hands on her hips, and cleared her throat. “Sure she wants to hear it. We’ve been practicing all day for the big occasion, right, Steve?” 

His laughter gradually faded into the well-known melody and he found himself humming along as Robin sang with all the dramatics and passion she could muster:

“Thanks a bunch, but I'm not getting married

Go have lunch, 'cause I'm not getting married

You've been grand, but I'm not getting married

Don't just stand there, I'm not getting married

And don't tell Steve, but I'm not getting married today”

Steve Harrington’s life was perfect, that’s what everyone kept telling him. 

“The perfect house”, they scoffed as they peered into his living room, seeing the pristine carpets, the shiny displays of expensive statuettes and framed pictures. Of course they could afford housekeeping, of course they had the prettiest flowers in their garden – planted, watered and maintained in their perfection by a professional gardener. Of course Mrs. Harrington never allowed something as mundane and dirty as soil near her manicured nails. That was the image she always portrayed, even if Steve sometimes saw her watching the wilting leaves, her fingers reaching out before quickly withdrawing. 

“The perfect family”, they muttered as they observed the Harringtons leaving for yet another gala, another social function that allowed them to flaunt their wealth, their status. They were a sight to behold - the patriarch of the family, Richard Harrington, with his strong jaw, cold eyes and practiced booming laughter, the trophy wife, Mary Harrington, and her platinum blonde hair in stiff locks, the most expensive jewelry and effortless mingling...and Steve. The golden child Steve Harrington, the boy who could easily charm and entertain, who enchanted many a heart in his high school years, the boy who excelled in sports and took a junior position in his father’s company after school to prove himself. Perfectly respectful, maybe a bit of a rascal, but boys will be boys, they said. 

“The perfect future,” they spat out as they saw Steve leaving his father’s office, that charming smile plastered on his face, oblivious to the worries of common people. How far would anyone else have gotten if they had private sessions with Mr. Harrington, explaining to them the intricacies of their business? But of course, the boy did not understand how lucky he was. 

It was only natural for the perfect boy, now a young man, to have a perfect wife too. And how fortunate that there was a family in their town of Hawkins that fit the Harrington criteria – a traditional father, on the right side of the political spectrum, of course, a housewife with just enough brains to be charming but not too much, not to overshadow her older husband, and three kids. Not all of them agreeable, but the eldest daughter was bright, polite and while she was a bit too ambitious for Mr. Harrington’s liking, time and family focus would fix that small problem. Mr. Harrington believed that all problems have solutions.

Steve tried to follow the plan. He and Nancy Wheeler went to school together and it only seemed right that they eventually started dating, a studious, presentable girl and a popular jock. They did it all, romantic dates, parties – but not too many, just enough to remain the golden couple, family dinners and grand plans for their future...that is, until they broke up. 

He should have seen it coming. Their relationship had been on the rocks ever since Nancy’s best friend Barb accidentally slipped and drowned in the Harrington family pool during one of those rare parties. He’d tried to be there for Nancy, begged her to tell him what she needed, but as time dragged on, it became obvious that she didn’t know what would ease her pain. She was only sure of one thing - it wasn’t him. 

It was fine. He was hurt, of course, he blamed himself, tried to fix whatever was wrong with him, but in the end accepted it – he had to, especially after he skipped the second period and saw Nancy in an empty classroom, lips glued to a girl from his class, the passion so foreign, so different from what she used to be like with him. And even though the pain would not go away, not fully, the fear in their eyes and the instant jolt that made them leave each other’s arms, it made him understand. He just smiled at them and mentioned an empty service bathroom that would perhaps be safer, more discreet. 

It should have ended there – Steve informing his parents of their break-up, losing his first love but gaining two friendships at once. It seemed like a good trade to him, better than he thought he’d have. Perhaps he would meet another girl one day, one his father would approve of. But when Richard Harrington scoffed and said, “as if love had anything to do with marriage”, something cold settled in Steve’s stomach, something that felt awfully a lot like helplessness. His father decided what was best for him, without knowing him at all, his life a mere extension of the Harrington legacy.

Months of pleading led nowhere, and so did the reasoning, bargaining...Richard Harrington wouldn’t budge, and neither would Ted Wheeler. It would have been better for Steve to just leave, to live his own life elsewhere, but...

But Nancy had a bright future ahead of her. She was his friend and so was Robin, the second half of his soul he’d never known he was missing. So he made a deal with himself – he would stall the wedding, give just enough to keep his father if not happy, then at least satisfied, and give Nancy enough time to reach her eighteenth birthday, secretly apply for college just like Robin and Nancy and once the two of them were out, safe and out of reach of the town’s and their families’ bigotry, he would focus on himself. Maybe he’d move out and disappear, just like the girls would. Or he’d stay and face the music, living his own life to spite his father. 

So many options, so little time. 

And that was why he was currently at the piano, his fingers moving as if they had a mind of their own, producing melodies that felt like a second nature to him, the familiarity equally sweet and painful. He might have lost the first love of his life, but along with gaining a soulmate and a good friend, he’d rediscovered a part of himself that he’d never thought he would ever dare to pursue again – music. 

Ever since he was little, Steve Harrington had loved music. From the sweet tone of his mother’s voice singing him to sleep, before the golden cage trapped her in more ways than one, to gentle strumming of a guitar coming from the woods, from kids that were free in ways he would never taste. He would never be allowed to join a band, that would tarnish his reputation, that and the one of his family, to stoop to being a public spectacle. But they couldn’t always control him, the school became his refuge, long before his King Steve persona, long before he had his heart broken and glued back together. The school was a place where he could be himself, at least partially. It was ironic, the building most of his peers hated became his favorite spot in Hawkins. And in it, the musical room and a piano, a beautiful instrument that could weave any emotion into its tones – melancholy, love, hope. It was complex and perfect for Steve. 

Complex and perfect…just like the boy that he saw once at the piano. It didn’t matter that he was wearing shabby clothes, too big for him, that he had the ugliest buzzcut and that there was a fresh bruise on his cheek. His long and gangly limbs hardly fit on the small stool in front of the piano, but Steve couldn’t stop watching his hands, the thin and elegant fingers flowing like water. 

Steve was mesmerized. He could have watched the boy play for hours, letting those beautiful tones wash over him, but then he took a breath that was too deep, too audible, and the boy froze. He looked like a cornered animal, jumping up to distance himself from the piano and knocking his knee on the bottom of the keyboard. And Steve hated himself for laughing, he really did, but he just couldn’t understand how someone could go from graceful to a ragdoll in two seconds. As the boy mumbled nervous apologies and rubbed his knee, Steve stopped him, taking a step closer. 

“That was amazing. Really, really amazing. Could you maybe…could you show me? The basics? If you’re not busy.”

It turned out that the boy’s name was Eddie and he wasn’t busy. He had plenty of time between classes, during lunch breaks. Being the new kid, and the new poor kid from a trailer park on top of that…that was a death sentence in Hawkins Middle School. Steve had learned so much about Eddie during their lessons – he would bring lunch, they’d eat together in the music room and chat about anything and everything. Eddie told him how he moved in with his uncle Wayne, how he felt like a burden and never wanted him to worry so he hid his bruises and kept out of harm’s way, kept out of sight and out of trouble. He said his mom used to play a lot in bars when he was a kid, took him with her and taught him whenever she could, staying longer and longer, maybe hoping that if they stayed past midnight, his father would get bored, turn to whatever alcohol he managed to steal that day and fall asleep before they got back. It didn’t always work, but hey, it was worth a shot. And Eddie was a fast learner. 

But he never had to hide from Wayne Munson, and if Steve had ever experienced warmth and understanding, it was from Eddie and his uncle. The man seemed older than he was, balding and with a face full of lines, but underneath his gruff exterior was a heart of pure gold. They didn’t have much, but he always prepared a quick meal for Steve and Eddie when they got too immersed in their dreams of music and grand future. He’d pat Steve’s shoulder and ask him about school, likes and dislikes, his goals and dreams. 

Eddie had dreams too, he wanted to leave Hawkins and play music, no matter what the form would be. Not just covers too, but his own songs and tunes. He loved all kinds of instruments, guitar mostly, but piano had always been his comfort. He played snippets of melodies for Steve that he composed himself, often asking for Steve’s feedback, for his ideas. Whenever that happened, Steve’s chest tightened and he felt a strange fluttering. Someone found him worthy of voicing his opinion. Someone asked him for it. For the first time in his life, he felt heard. He felt like a separate person from his family, from the expectations. In that music room, it wasn’t Steve Harrington, the golden boy of the Harrington family, and Eddie Munson, the neglected trailer trash. They were just Steve and Eddie, bonded over their love for music. 

And then it ended, like all good things do. 

Steve stopped seeing Eddie and they passed each other in the hallways of the Hawkins High, all blatant disregard and secret glances. Eddie’s hair had grown long and wild, he became loud and unapologetic. His instrument of choice became a guitar, he got held back once while Steve graduated. They moved in separate circles now, Steve focusing on sports and finding a part-time job, Eddie fully embracing being the town freak and then eventually leaving, disappearing one day without saying a word to anyone. Just as it was always meant to be, that’s what his father used to say.

Steve Harrington never meant to play the piano again, although he longed for the ghost of the touch of smooth and cool keys. He’d locked those desires deep inside himself, burying them along with the one friendship that used to mean everything. 

Until Robin Buckley came along. 

Robin’s family was fond of music and proud of it. Their collection of instruments was enormous and the first time Steve visited her house with Nancy under the pretense of meeting his girlfriend’s best friend, well, new best friend after Barb Holland had met her tragic fate, Steve found himself staring at their piano. The shard in his heart came loose and the longing was too much, too dangerous. 

But Robin saw him, of course she did. She gently took his hand and led him to the piano, sitting him down. “Are you going to be okay by yourself here?” she asked him and maybe the gentle press of his fingers against the keys was enough of an answer. The window next to the piano led into the woods outside of Hawkins and so did Robin’s, with plaid curtains that protected their exploring kisses and touches from unwanted eyes, all that while Steve found himself again in the familiar melodies and the memory of a boy with a buzzcut. 

In the quiet of the Buckley house, all three of them could be themselves.

Please see the beautiful art for this chapter by Moon Arin HERE!

Chapter 2

[soup-of-the-daisies]

What are your favorite harry ships??

I am SO glad you asked. Harry is my fandom bicycle and the reason I count myself as a multi-shipper.

In general, I like my Harry-ships to be relatively ‘equal’, if that makes sense. Harry or the other character should be capable of holding their own; big power differences are not my cup of tea (though they can be intriguing and, dare I say it, hot). They can kick each other’s arses, is what I mean by that.

I also don’t mind a male Harry, female Harry, or NB Harry. I like ‘em all, just for clarification.

For the basics: both Drarry and Harmione are near and dear to my heart. Rivals-to-lovers and friends-to-lovers, my beloved. These ships feel comfortable and familiar, and they’re usually my go-to for post-canon fluff or hurt/comfort. (I also like Dramione and Romione btw. I know that’s not what you asked about but I’m just putting it out there.)

I’m also known to have indulged in Ronarry and Sirry (Sirius/Harry) on occasion. And with smaller characters: Harry/Theo Nott, Harry/Blaise Zabini, Harry/Daphne Greengrass, Harry/Viktor Krum, Harry/Cedric Diggory… yeah. Harry/Cho and Hinny are fine, but not ones I’d purposefully seek out. In time travel AUs, I genuinely, really like Harry/Orion Black—possibly because it reminds me of Prongsfoot.

Most importantly: my absolute favourite at the moment is Tomarry/Harrymort. I don’t know why—it just appeals to me. Harry’s my boy, and I actually quite like Voldemort’s character as a fully-rounded villain or annoying, emotionally constipated teenager. Christian Coulson as Tom Riddle had me (like many others) in a chokehold when I was little so Diary!Tom is Voldy-version I absolutely adore, but Silver Fox!Voldemort and Snakeymort I love as well. And again, this is as long as the power dynamics aren’t too fucked up (purely for my personal taste): other aspects can be Morally Wrong or Really Fucked Up and I’ll lick the plate clean lmao. I like it when Voldemort becomes ‘better’, I like it when Harry becomes ‘worse’… cleansing or corruption, both are good.

It’s something something soulmates, I suppose!! Their inherent connection, their similarities. Harry has the potential (!!!) to become an ‘equal’ in power to Voldemort eventually (provided he trains and studies) (the detail that Voldemort canonically has more magical power is why a lot of fix-it fics add that Harry had a ‘binding’ on his ‘magical core’ which limits the power he can put into something; either to prevent the horcrux from holding on too tightly or to make him easier to kill). Harry has, canonically, power over Voldemort in the way that he’s part of Voldemort. Their wand cores match as much as they can possibly match (feathers given by the same phoenix at the same time). Voldemort accidentally damned Harry to have a similar childhood as he did. They both see Hogwarts as their first home; they’re both half-bloods; they both didn’t feel like they truly belonged in both the muggle and magical world, though for varying reasons. Harry can understand Voldemort on a level that lies the latter bare and open, which is not something that Voldemort would ever want or appreciate. And the dichotomy between core parts of their personalities — Harry’s kindness, Voldemort’s cruelty — is delicious.

[saras-devotionals]

Quiet Time 3/21

What am I feeling today?

I’m feeling pretty great! I have Easter break at the moment and have over a week off of school which is much needed! This time for real I want to get all my work done and just finish my semester strong because I have about a month left. Anyways, just excited (but a little anxious) with everything coming up☺️

Bible Plan: Spiritual Wilderness

Sometimes we just don’t feel the Holy Spirit leading us to seek the Lord’s face. The devil may be filling our head with lies that God doesn’t care about us anymore. Sometimes we hit a dry season during which we feel absolutely no desire to pray, fast, or read the Bible. Often, that lonely season involves spiritual warfare. Whenever you don’t feel like going to King Jesus is when you need to go to Him the most, in spite of your feelings. When you lose your hunger for God, you must force-feed yourself with His Word, even if you don’t feel like doing it. A spiritual appetite grows by eating. A spiritual hunger follows spiritual feeding. Push yourself to eat whenever you want to have a greater hunger for God. Physical hunger comes by not eating, but spiritual hunger follows after eating. The more you enjoy fellowship with God, the more you crave Him.

If you are losing your hunger for God, force-feed yourself until hunger kicks in. When you don’t feel the Holy Spirit moving in your life, feed yourself on the Scriptures until you do. That’s Him talking to you. Don’t submit to your feelings when you’re in the spiritual wilderness or under spiritual attack. Feelings can’t be trusted, especially when you are facing challenges. Feelings must not dictate your behavior.

I know it’s easier to write about this than it is to live it. Doing what is right, even when we are not feeling close to God, develops spiritual maturity. Our faith flourishes when feelings fail. Don’t attach your faith to feelings; connect your faith to Jesus. He never fails! Go to your King when you feel unmotivated, discouraged, sad and defeated. Just take the initiative to linger with Him and enjoy His friendship. His presence is your solution!

I can feel this way sometimes. There are some mornings I wake up and I just don’t feel the desire to spend any time with Him. It weighs on me sometimes. I can be weak and let my feelings and emotions take over and guide my day. It’s hard to deny them and that’s something well known and acknowledged. For example, I have a diagnosis of depression and can go through episodes of difficult mental health. Some days I really want to give into it, just allow it to overcome me because I don’t have the strength to deal with it. But that’s precisely why we need God and to spend time with Him. He’s the source of our strength. He’s the one that will support us throughout the day. When we ignore Him and listen to our feelings instead, we’re just making it so much worse. So even when I’m having a hard time and feel like I need to force myself, I’ll do it anyways, because I know afterwards I will feel better knowing I spent time with Him.

Psalm 119:11 NIV

“I have hidden your word in my heart that I might not sin against you.”

Whenever I reread this, I’m reminded that I need to spend more time memorizing scripture. There’s some that I do keep on my heart because I know I need them, but I should aspire to know more. To be at a point where any situation pops up and I know what scripture to go to.

Matthew 4:4 NIV

“Jesus answered, “It is written: ‘Man shall not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.’””

Whats the point of going throughout the rest of our day if we’re not acknowledging God. He can strike us down right where we stand, how prideful can we be that we think we can just do our day on our own without spending time with Him and His word. That’s what will sustain us!

John 1:1-5 NIV

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.”

Okay so we know that here the Word is in reference to Jesus. And we can see that he was there in the beginning, he was God and was with Him too. We also see that he is the light that will not be overcome by the darkness. I feel there’s a lot to get out of this chapter of John (and really the whole gospel). I’ll just leave it simply that without him, we can’t do anything (or at least anything worthwhile in the eyes of God) and we should work daily on pursuing Him because that’s the way to (eternal) life.

[popironrye]

Dracfield Fanfic Preview

I'm having a blast working on this big dracfield fanfic I have, but it's a slow process. To make myself feel better I wanted to post a little snip bit as like a preview without actually spoiling the largest part of the story. Here's the summary for a little context: In order to get out of a sticky situation, Teddy Lobo pressures Renfield into doing cocaine and the results are messy. Leading to Dracula having to aid his loyal servant in the simple task of getting cleaned up. This little section is heavily implied Tedfield for funsies, but let it be known that this story is not a tedfield fic. So I hope not to disappoint people by clarifying this is the extent of any tedfield stuff really since the story is about dracfield, but let me know if I should write a full blown tedfield fic. :3

What started as one bottle of tequila turned into a second. Then a third. But that wasn’t enough for Teddy. Robert timidly downed as many drinks as Teddy and his entourage handed him. He wasn’t much of a heavy drinker. Being inebriated to such a level would spell disaster not only for his master but also himself. He would surely fail his master by being too drunk to function or at worst, protect him when he needed it. Still though, Robert was always a social drinker and you couldn’t get any more social than being around Teddy and the Lobo gang. Hollering, laughing, and carrying on like the tightest of friends. It wasn’t long before the scenery switched from the Lobo home to a rowdy bar where the drinks continued to flow, to the point where Robert was starting to wobble. Teddy was absolutely sloshed from the beginning, but that didn’t stop him from being the fun loving center of attention. He was really good at that, even as his declarations of a good time became nearly incomprehensible with all the slurring he was doing. He tumbled into furniture and people alike. It was a little amusing to Robert to see the man in such a state.

After Teddy flailed an arm firmly over his shoulder, probably as a way to keep himself more steady, Robert decided it was probably for the best that Teddy be taken home. Everyone else was way too busy enjoying themselves in their own drunken worlds so Robert decided he’d get Teddy home first and come back for everyone else later. While his legs were a little shaky, not helped by how fidgety Teddy was being, Robert was still in his right mind to get back home. Practically dragging Teddy out into the parking lot, with one of Teddy’s arms over his shoulder holding his wrist and his other hand holding firmly on Teddy’s waist to keep his legs from dragging against the ground. Robert was surprised with how little resistance he was getting. Usually Teddy would fight against his grip to keep partying but he seemed content being led away by him. Mumbling under his breath too quiet and too garbled for Robert to fully understand him. Teddy leaned his weight against him, nuzzling his nose into the side of Robert’s neck, causing him to sharply suck a breath in through his teeth. His body let out an involuntary shudder and he felt Teddy smile against his skin. He was getting a kick out of that. Robert grumbled to himself. Smug little twit. Still he smiled. The sensation of the other man pushing his weight against him; trusting him to practically glide him back to the car was nice. The feeling of his warm breath against his pulse point was more intoxicating than the alcohol in his system. The feeling of having someone, anyone relying on him again made his chest flutter. Robert sighed, how quick he was to feel this way was almost shameful. He’d be damned if the slightest bit of touch was all it took to light a fire in his soul and yet, any sensible person could tell he was damned a long time ago. Once he made it back to the car, Robert had to lean Teddy’s body against his side, hoisting him up with one arm as he opened the door with the other. He gently laid Teddy down across the seats. With a slight jostle, Teddy shifted over to glance up at him. Eyes glossy, lips slightly parted as he took short breaths. His chest heaving as he rested his cheek into the leather. His entire face flushed, no doubt from all the alcohol and his once tightly slicked back hair had strands falling all over the place. “Robert…” He muffled softly. The sound of his name coming from Teddy so tenderly brought heat from his core to his cheeks. How he wondered how sweet it would sound to make Teddy call out his name like that more…no! No, he thought. What the hell was wrong with him? He was grateful Teddy had no insight into his mind like his master did. Not that it would have mattered regardless at this moment. Robert prodded Teddy’s leg with his finger tip. He was completely out cold. Robert sighed as he stood a moment letting the night air cool his face. It was only then when his mind was clear from worrying about Teddy and the buzz in his system began to ease that he had the feeling he was being watched. Before he could step back to close the door, he felt a strong pair of hands clasp against the back of his shirt and the other firmly pressed on the back of his head. Before he could even react he was forced violently forward, having his brow line smashed against the top of the inner frame. Robert stayed on his feet but his unseen assailant was quick to lay a few body blows and ended with a hard stomp in the back of his knee. Robert landed against the pavement, he gritted his teeth as he felt the flesh of his palms scrap against the ground. While he was down the man who assaulted him made quick work of the fight with a swift kick right into the side of Robert’s jaw and everything went black.

[myfairkatiecat]

heyyyyy

could you please list some adhd symptoms/characteristics please. Just in case somebody else might maybe have it.

Is it like autism in that it's a spectrum/variation in severity, or is it its own thing

There’s overlap between adhd and autism, but they are distinctly different things.

ADHD looks different in different people. For me, it presented as having difficulty beginning tasks (even things I enjoy! Even things that are easy!), having trouble switching between tasks, almost never remembering obligations and times and appointments and events, occasionally being only able to function by multitasking and at other times utterly incapable of multitasking, a complete inability to keep myself still without fidgeting/stimming/getting up and finding an excuse to leave to go on a walk (I used to ask to refill my water bottle every class and then walk circles around the school because sitting in one place was a fully excruciating task), experiencing periods of hyperfixation/hyperfocus where I was so immersed in a task that it was all I could think about for certain periods of time (sometimes I would be so immersed that I wouldn’t be able to hear people saying my name).

That’s how adhd presented in me. Honestly we should have known something was up when I was a kid who would kick and scream when I was told to get ready for dance class (I LOVED dance class. Always had fun once I got there), didn’t like to change between subjects in elementary school, sometimes was so immersed in reading that my class went back to the classroom and the janitors eventually found me in an empty lunchroom not realizing I was alone, and would become so absolutely immersed in my favorite fictional worlds that I would constantly read out quotes or ramble about my favorite characters to the point where my parents would get genuinely mad at me (eventually I found fandom space as a better outlet for that!)

However, it looks different in everyone. Some people are more inattentive, some are more hyperactive, and that’s not even all the nuance there is (not a psychologist! Can’t explain it to the level that one could)

I believe this adhd test is based on the one used in diagnosing (feel free to correct me if I’m wrong) so if you’d like a better sense of whether or not you have it, that could be a helpful resource. Ultimately if you decide that what you believe are adhd symptoms are impacting your life in ways that make functioning difficult you can seek a diagnosis from a psychologist, which can open up different methods of treatment!

[sweaterkittensahoy]

The unquestionable inspiration for the reason I crochet with the sort of ferocity I do is Josi Hannon Madera, whom I met on livejournal in the absolutely wild crochet community that lived there.

I found out this week that she died in mid-April. Complications of Covid on her very immuno-compromised body.

You might know the name and be thinking "Oh, god, I remember her. What a bitch."

She would LOVE to know she bothered you that much. She'd have laughed. She always laughed about that. She knew who she was and what she wanted and made no bones about it. But not in a "better than you," sort of way. In a "I know my worth and fuck you" sort of way, you know?

In my earliest days of figuring out how fucked up my family was, Josi acted as the occasional bullshit-cutter. She'd call me out when I was being too mean or too harsh--to myself or other people (even if it was people I THOUGHT she should dislike because I did). For all the reputation she got in crochet circles for being a bitch, the truth was, she wasn't. If you asked for honest feedback, she gave it. In detail. And offered suggestions.

Now, if you showed up to talk shit about her patterns, she'd lay you out. She knew how good her work was. She wouldn't coddle you if you tried to say it sucked or was too hard or wasn't well explained or didn't fit right.

When I was getting frustrated with the available patterns for big tits 20 years ago, it was Josi's work I looked at to figure out how to make shit that could fit. When I made a terrible sweater freehand, she offered tips. When I made a slightly less terrible sweater on try two, she cheered me on.

We lost touch for awhile when LJ had its final meltdown, and then out of the blue on FB one day, there she was. DMing me to ask if I wanted to be friends. She was glad to find me, she said. Glad to reconnect. Was I still crocheting? I was floored. Josi wasn't stingy with friendship or care, but to have her see me after a period and go, "Oh, yeah, Gayle!" it just meant a lot.

When I told her I was still crocheting and even making cosplays to boot, she was so excited. "I remember watching you make that same sweater over and over until you got it right," she told me. "You've always been a designer."

Our last conversation was about crochet. She posted about her best-known pattern (and one of the only ones you can get) the Spiderweb Skirt. I told her, knowing she'd get a kick out of it, that I was about to make it again. It was the first "big" pattern I ever took on, way back when. I have the photo to prove it (it's shorter than in the pattern photo because I was still living in tight gauge junction):

"What yarn are you going to use?" she asked.

"Knitpicks Shine." I named it because it was one of ones recommended, and I do like it quite a lot.

She rejected it outright. It was too heavy, she said. Wouldn't work up right. Why'd I pick it? I told her what I just said; it's recommended.

"Oh, is this the Craftzine version?"

Yup.

"They chose those yarns. Not me. I'm working with a yarn that'll require you to shimmy to get into it, but it'll twirl great."

It's Valley Yarn Levertt. I'm going to make it in Leaf, as it's as close to a neon as they have, and I know Josi would have loved it.

[depressedhatakekakashi]

Uchiha Sasuke

As one of the main character’s there is understandably a lot to love, but bear with me i swear the list won’t be that long.

Killing Danzo. Pretty simple and straight forward, i love when Sasuke faced off against the person who manipulated his brother into murdering their clan and got some sweet sweet revenge. Seeing Danzo destroyed without any sort of real struggle on Sasuke’s part was delightful. Danzo was so weak on his own he had to steal Sharingan to have any confidence in his strength and Sasuke destroyed him easily. It was beautiful.

The look he gave Kakashi when his dumb Sensei swooped in to save them after ‘dying’ and made it look like it was the easiest thing ever. Annoyed Sasuke is life. Look at that face and tell me it’s not hilarious. He has known Kakashi for less than a year and he’s so done with him already XD.

Saving Karin. This dude had no reason to go out of his way to save Karin, but he did because deep down trauma and all Sasuke is a good dude. Ya he got lost and almost caused her death, but gdi this moment when they’re pre-teens was too good to skip because of what happens in the future.

Killing Orochimaru. King shit. Should have killed them again.

(Movie only) when he got that actress’ autograph for Naruto and chose the absolute WORST picture for it. Once again, King shit. Go Sasuke go that was delightful.

Pointing out that he has no reason to love Sakura. Look, listen listen. I’m not shitting on the ship or anyone Sasuke was talking to at the moment, but being honest with himself is an absolute win for me. I personally believe him and Kakashi had good point’s and good reason’s for why they believe what they did, and i support Sasuke for knowing he can’t make new bonds and just love someone without a reason. He has lost so much and he can’t open his heart in hope of healing the way Kakashi does and that is valid.

Copying Lee’s primary Lotus and calling it by his own created name. Just, delightful. Perfection. Great way to annoy tf out of Lee and amazing to see.

Showing up at the foot of a cliff expecting Kakashi to drop his own training to start training him because he’s ready to go. His determination to get stronger is always admirable.

Threatening to chuck Kakashi’s book, and then Kakashi himself, into the river. My boy he’s awkward but he’s trying to help i swear XD still, i get it. I’d probably do the same XD

Petting his eagle summon while Hashirama is trying to talk to him about facing Madara. I love that he clearly gives zero shits what any of the Hokage’s say (especially Hiruzen) and that he shows it in the way he just… largely ignores them.

Jumping in front of Naruto to take Haku’s attack even though dying means he can’t avenge his clan. Sasuke has had so little to hold onto since his clan’s death but he has bonded with Naruto in such a short time and made him such an important part of his life even when you can tell he doesn’t want to. It’s so sweet and sad at the same time.

The fact that out of all Kakashi’s students he actually took the lesson of teamwork the best! Sasuke doesn’t like Kakashi and he has his reason’s for that, but at the end of the day he understood the assignment Kakashi gave to his students. Sasuke didn’t have to make a whole new team to chase after Itachi, Join the Akatsuki, and kill Danzo with, but he understood that even with his improvements it would be better to have a team around him and he knew just who to pick. The most forgotten of Orochimaru’s experiments. A+ for understanding the assignment and kicking its ass (even if he did fail it a little down the line he STILL did better than Naruto ‘do it all myself’ Uzumaki and Sakura ‘drug my teammates’ Haruno.

[dustedmagazine]

Listed: R.E. Seraphin

Whether kicking out raucous, throaty garage jams with Impediments a decade ago, or exploring power-poppier terrain with Talkies and more recently under his own initials, Ray Seraphin tells his stories in the radiance just above the fuzz. Sung low and hoarse, his lyrics blink in and out of reality, propelled by the instruments’ lively buzz and echo. Ruptured by an explosive guitar lead here or punctuated by a tidy, melodic bass riff there, this music doesn’t sit still. It’s familiar but captivating, a potent rock and roll fusion of lo-fi attitude and sweeping hit-record moves. Alex Johnson called his latest release, Fool’s Mate, “dynamic and buoyant… a bright, powerful album with lurid desperation creeping in from the edges.”

Here are 10 of Seraphin’s formative records, books, and movies:

Outrageous Cherry — Out There in the Dark

When I was 17, my bandmate’s partner loaned this CD to me and I held onto it for a number of years before she was able to pry it back. I loved the pairing of Matthew Smith’s arch wordplay and Larry Ray’s mercurial guitar work. They are one of the classic vocalist-guitarist duos to me — up there with Bowie-Ronson, Ferry-Manzanera, Rollins-Ginn. All of their albums are great. Not to sound trite but they really should be better known!

Ralph Bakshi — Wizards

When I was fired from my first job at Arinell’s Pizza, the manager gave me a 1/2 pint of Ancient Age, a CD copy of Butthole Surfers’ Independent Worm Saloon, and a VHS copy of Wizards as my severance package. He proceeded to drink the whiskey with me (at 9am) but, mercifully, stopped short of insisting we watch Wizards together. The film is lifted into classic status by Bakshi’s signature crude and wild animation style despite a fairly ho-hum future-fantasy plot. Still visually arresting.

John Barth — The End of the Road

I was an English literature major in college and, because I fancied myself a Serious Person, I read a lot of books I didn’t understand in my extracurricular time. I’ve read a few of John Barth’s more celebrated, metaphysical works but this early, "realistic" story is the one that stuck with me. There’s a bleakness and ugliness to the book that feels really transgressive — albeit not in an edgy, cornball way. Plus, as someone who probably suffers from some form of executive dysfunction, I somewhat relate to the protagonist Jake’s crisis of self.

The Real Kids — Outta Place

Over the years, my music has largely been referred to as power pop. I chafe against the term a little bit but can't say I’m entirely allergic to it. The Real Kids likely represent my first real interest in the genre. Their self-titled album is their best, most complete work; however, I more frequently listen to their New Rose-era.

Flamin’ Groovies — “Whiskey Woman”

Growing up, the Flamin’ Groovies were the consummate rock group. They represented band-ness to me in a way few others did. In my mind, it’s The Replacements, NRBQ, The Faces, maybe Cheap Trick, and the Flamin’ Groovies. Their early records have this cartoonish, shambolic post-Stones vibe I love — the Roy Loney effect. That said, I was drawn to this somewhat atypical ballad sung by their guitarist, Cyril Jordan. I think this is the song that made me realize you could end a song with something other than a double chorus.

Tommy James — “Ball and Chain”

My record collection did and does consist almost entirely of dollar bin records. I bought this record on a whim at a garage sale and became enamored of James’ weird, Christian bubblegum world. The fuzz guitar (maybe played by Tommy himself?) on this song is absolutely psychotic. Big fan.

Kirsty MacColl — “They Don't Know”

I discovered Stiff Records through a CD box set my mom owned. Initially, I was lured by the rockin’ entries in their catalog: Nick Lowe, Wreckless Eric, Larry Wallis, The Damned, et al. I also adored Rachel Sweet and Kirsty MacColl, though. A perfect song that contains the most affecting use of the word "baby" in the history of pop music.

Thee Headcoatees — Girlsville

I vaguely remember being stoned at a friend’s house when I was 16 and getting introduced to this Headcoatees album. I nicked a riff for one of my first songs, "Pig Out," which I licensed to a vegan pork rind company 10 years later. To this day, I don’t know what song I ripped off and it may not have even been by Thee Headcoatees. But Thee Headcoatees are cool, so here you go!

Flannery O’Connor — Wise Blood

I attribute my interest in American fiction writing to Flannery O��Connor. The atmosphere in her stories is so suffocating and anxiety-inducing — in a good way. I think reading this was the first time I understood the emotional impact great writing can have. I have a slight preference for her short stories now but, keeping in the spirit of this list, Wise Blood was my first, most enduring exposure to her work.

Zero Boys — Vicious Circle

I grew up in Berkeley, home of the Gilman St. Project, and I think a lot of my peers in high school expected me to be into hardcore. The Zero Boys are probably the one the clicked with me the most. They were melodic and seemed still tethered to rock n’ roll. Could be because they cited The Dictators as an influence. I was wearing a Vicious Circle t-shirt the first time I was dumped but I don't hold that against them.

[tkvkfanfics]

ᴛᴀᴇᴋᴏᴏᴋ ꜰᴀɴꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴡ ᴏᴘᴇɴ

Hello Everyone ✾❀

I am happy to have you here. Thank you for visiting my page, or maybe you came across this by chance. Nevertheless your history, EVERYONE IS WELCOME!

As the gates into another year, to be honest with you, a year that I was dreading to start, slowly started to open in a dramatic light cutting through where 2023 was slowly dying, fading away, I dared to look one last time behind my shoulder, not expecting to see a lot, but lives are filled with memories. Most of them, I kicked out, not considering them worth the struggle, yet 2023 still looked thick, thickest were my worries and fears for the future, but also LONGING built their communities.

If you are an ARMY (I guess you are if you are still here) we may share some of them even if their weight may differ. If you are coming here from one of my works on AO3, you already know where is this going, if you read the title, this may start to look to you too long and boring.

Through my writing journey, I came across many good ideas but my motivation to write the last dot before the THE END goodbye, was challenging me. And it still is. I find it hard to finish things just for myself, sometimes I need guidance.

So, I have ᴇxᴄɪᴛɪɴɢ ɴᴇᴡꜱ!

If you like me are going through this 2024 drought and wish 2025 could come faster, or you have many ideas for a good story you would like to read, but you are not really a writer and you think I could be the person who will turn your ideas into words, I would like to announce that FANFICTION REQUESTS are officially OPEN!

If you are interested, please carefully read further:

ᴡʜʏ ꜰᴀɴꜰɪᴄꜱ, ʏᴏ��� ᴀꜱᴋ? As 2023 had been turning the pages, a whiff of dread got to my senses, closing its door was just as empty as I imagined. 2024 has started as a rollercoaster of emotions, better known as copying. I think we could all use that sadness, pride, anger, love, denial, and adventure to battle the silence. What better way than by unleashing the power of our imagination? Would you like to become my laboratory rat, try my coping techniques?

ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏʟʟᴀʙᴏʀᴀᴛᴇ? I am open to teamwork, collaboration. Whether you've been writing for ages or just giving it a shot, your stories are what bring our fandom to life. So, if you've got a creative spark, let's dive into this adventure together! Grab a pen or your keyboard, and let's get started!

ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇʀ? No problem! I challenge myself to turn your ideas into stories. Just follow the guidelines and send me your request.

ɪꜱ ɪᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ꜰʀᴇᴇ? Absolutely! While we all may be short of money, I am not trying to earn anything but experience.

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

ꜱᴜʙᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ ɢᴜɪᴅᴇʟɪɴᴇꜱ (read carefully):

✔️ᴇɴᴄᴏᴜʀᴀɢᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ɢᴇɴʀᴇꜱ: I am excited to explore various themes

ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴀʀᴇ ᴍʏ ꜰᴀᴠᴏᴜʀɪᴛᴇ (❤) ᴏʀ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛʀʏ (✍︎):

↝ Friendship and Bonds ❤❤❤

↝ Slice of life ❤❤❤

↝ Identity and Self Discovery ❤❤❤❤❤

↝ Loss and Grief ❤❤❤

↝ Humour ❤

↝ Betrayal and Trust ❤❤

↝ Exploration of emotions ❤❤❤❤❤

↝ Forbidden Love ❤❤❤❤

↝ Dreams and Nightmares ❤

↝ Mythology and Legends ✍︎

↝ Time travel ✍︎

↝ Parallel dimensions ✍︎

↝ Fate and Destiny ✍︎

↝ Survival ✍︎

↝ Adventure and Exploration ✍︎

ɢᴇɴʀᴇꜱ:

↝ Romance

↝ Angst

↝ Fluff

↝ Hurt/Comfort

↝ Mature → 18+, → strong language, → adult scenes (smut), → alcohol use, drugs use, → mild violence

↝ Family

↝ Friendship

↝ Fantasy

↝ Alternative Universe

↝ Canon Setting

ꜱʜɪᴘꜱ I feel like this is an important topic I should address. My main focus is on TAEKOOK but I have no problems with side ships within the group or ships that include original characters.

❌ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ʀᴇꜱᴛʀɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴꜱ

While creativity knows no bounds and I have no problem exploring more mature themes and genres (check ᴇɴᴄᴏᴜʀᴀɢᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ɢᴇɴʀᴇꜱ), let's keep it respectful. I would like the stories to be enjoyable for everyone.

ɪ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇ:

Rape No consensual content (alcohol, drug use, sex) as well as Dubious consent Abuse Religious and war themes

ɪ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴏꜰꜰᴇɴᴅ ᴀɴʏᴏɴᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍʏ ʟᴀᴄᴋ ᴏꜰ ᴋɴᴏᴡʟᴇᴅɢᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ɪ ᴀɢʀᴇᴇ ɪᴛ ɪꜱ ɪᴍᴘᴏʀᴛᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴘʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴡʜᴀᴛ’ꜱ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴɪɴɢ, ᴛʜᴇꜱᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇꜱ ᴍᴀʏ ʙᴇ ʜɪɢʜʟʏ-ꜱᴇɴꜱɪᴛɪᴠᴇ, ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀꜱᴛᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴀɴᴅ

!!! ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛ ᴀɴʏ ᴅʀᴀᴍᴀ !!!

Incest or Taboo Relationships Discrimination Self-harm or Suicide (a reference to mental illness ɪꜱ ᴀʟʟᴏᴡᴇᴅ) Overly descriptive brutal violence

ɢᴇɴʀᴇꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ ᴀᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛᴀʙʟᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ:

Mafia Kidnapping Human trafficking

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ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ I want the fanfictions to be accessible to a wider community, therefore the only language acceptable is English. If someone wants to translate a story, please contact the story idea creator.

ʟᴇɴɢᴛʜ I would like to start with one-shots. The length will differ based on your submission (number of characters, number of themes, special requests (e.g. detailed descriptions of environment/ character, backstory)) You can always specify the number of words.

You can refer to this table:

Iron One-shots: Length: 100 to 1,000 words

Stories that describe characters or explore a specific theme within a limited number of words.

Emerald Oneshots: Length: 1,000 to 5,000 words

Stories that allow deeper character development, more complex plot, and theme exploration.

Golden Oneshots: Length: 5,000 to 10,000 words

Stories with detailed plotlines (subplots), character arcs, and themes

Diamond Oneshots: Length: 10,000+ words

Novel or short novel length

ʜᴏᴡ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴜʙᴍɪᴛ I prefer communication through email, I find it easy and clear if further discussion is needed, but I of course understand this way of contact is not for everyone. So, below I listed your options:

Email Send your ideas to rarapov1.author@gmail.com with the ꜱᴜʙᴊᴇᴄᴛ ʟɪɴᴇ: "TaeKook Fanfiction Request - 2024COPING "

AO3 You can write your requests in the comment section HERE

Tumblr You can send me a message, ask a question or leave a comment under this post

Discord You can find me as lp28_tk

Don't forget to include your name, nickname, pseudonym or the link to your page/profile so I can tag you and give you credits, or let me know if you'd like to stay anonymous - your credits will of course be given, only your name won't be mentioned.

Form Please submit your form here

Please note that with more options on how to submit your requests, the chances that I will miss your message are higher. So: If I don’t respond to you WITHIN FIVE DAYS, please send me a DM. Please mind the DIFFERENT TIME ZONES.

Once you send your fanfiction request, within four days I will respond to you with whether I ᴀᴄᴄᴇᴘᴛ it or ɴᴏᴛ (it should meet the criteria OR I may have already had too many requests so I will ask you if you don’t mind waiting), I will also let you know about the estimated time when your story will be delivered (the time can change). I may also have some questions, if so, please answer them. After a reply, you can ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ʜᴇʀᴇ and find your request on the board along with its state.

Before submitting your fanfiction request, please check the queue and whether I accept requests at the moment.

ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴡɪʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴇᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ It of course depends on the story length on your submission date and how many people are in a queue before you (you can check this information ʜᴇʀᴇ). Estimated time for delivery: 1 ᴛᴏ 2 ᴡᴇᴇᴋꜱ. Once I finish your story, I will send you a ᴘᴅꜰ ᴅᴏᴄᴜᴍᴇɴᴛ. You will be the first one to have access and within the next two days, I will upload the story on my ᴀᴏ3 ᴘʀᴏꜰɪʟᴇ and on my ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ᴘᴀɢᴇ with your credits.

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ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴛᴏ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ:

ꜰᴀɴᴅᴏᴍ For now, I only accept BTS fanfictions/ TAEKOOK

ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ Identify and describe (their role in the story, their characteristic traits you would like to see explored, relationships, appearance of your original characters or BTS) the characters you want the story to include

ꜱᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴘᴇʀɪᴏᴅ Describe the setting (world) and time period for the story. Whether it's in the canon, an alternate universe, or a different time

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ Describe the genre the story should follow (check ᴇɴᴄᴏᴜʀᴀɢᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ɢᴇɴʀᴇꜱ) I also accept a blend of genres.

ᴘʟᴏᴛ ᴏʀ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ Describe a basic plot idea or prompt. This could be a specific scenario, event, or theme you'd like to see explored in the fanfiction. I also accept stories based on songs, but don’t forget to describe it further, everyone may interpret the song differently.

ᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ Please choose an ending for your story and describe it further for me.

Happy Ending (Your characters (protagonist, main characters) achieve their goal)

Sad Ending (Sad, tragic ending for your characters)

Bittersweet Ending (Ending is a combination of sadness and happiness)

Ambiguous Ending (Ending is unclear or open to multiple interpretations)

Open Ending (Questions remain unanswered)

Twist Ending (The ending is surprising and unexpected for a reader)

Other

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ Specify your preferred word length (please refer to ʟᴇɴɢᴛʜ -> table).

ʀᴀᴛɪɴɢ Clarify the desired rating (e.g., General Audiences, Teen and Up, Mature, M/M, F/M).

ᴀᴅᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ᴘʀᴇꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴄᴇꜱ Include any additional preferences or details important to you. This could be specific elements, themes to avoid, or any particular narrative style you prefer.

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ If there are specific themes or content that you're uncomfortable with, let me know the warnings so the final story will meet your comfort levels.

ᴘʀᴇꜰᴇʀʀᴇᴅ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ꜱᴛʏʟᴇ Mention if you have a preference for a certain writing style (e.g., first person, third person, present tense, past tense, narrator of your story).

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ꜱᴘʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀᴅ! The only payment I ask you for is to send this to someone you think would be interested, share the news, and let's make 2025 come faster.

I can't wait to bring your incredible worlds and characters to life.

Lara

[dragoon-mid-jump]

FFXIVWrite 2023 Prompt #22: Fulsome

fulsome (adj.): characterized by abundance; aesthetically, morally, or generally offensive; exceeding the bounds of good taste; excessively complimentary or flattering

Rating: T

Word Count: 507

So, this is the Limsa of The First: Eulmore. The first Lominsans were fleeing tyranny, while Vauthry's power here is absolute. There, you prove your word and worth with your might. Here, you prove your worth with your pockets, and if you don't have that, you better hope you can prove with something they want. Oh, yeah. Indentured servitude is legal here; they can get rid of you when they get bored of you, so you better keep your skills fresh. Meanwhile, my brother and his guild actively hunt down slavers back home. Hells, this whole place goes right against the Pirates' Code!

It's Costa de Sol and Ul'dah's uppermost crust fused and amplified in some freak accident or unethical experiment.

...

This whole place makes me bloody sick.

But...if I'm going to find the answers I seek, I need to start somewhere. None of the other Scions have actually been properly inside Eulmore, so I took it upon myself to be the first. Blue Magic doesn't exist in this world, so when those clowns out in the shantytown said they were looking for a new performer, it was so easy to dazzle them with the Blue. I've been living under a...master...for a month now.

The others are resigned; they've given up. Grown complacent. Like the people living in this city. But I won't. I'll be the one to solve this Light corruption crisis. Then the Exarch won't have to keep trying to Call Dehlya over here. She won't need to bear yet another heavy burden, and he can focus on getting us all back home.

That damn Exarch...What does he see in my sister? Certainly not the same person I do, that's for sure. Everything he's said about her sounds like it came right out of a damn storybook. But, he's our biggest key back home. We don't have much of a choice. I don't have that much of a choice...

My ears perk up at surrounding chatter and audible gasps. It would seem that my latest performance caused quite the stir, and now I'm going to have more eyes on me. Good that I won't be kicked out, but not so good that I'll have to watch my movements more closely.

"There he is! The new performer!"

"That's him? I've never seen him up close!"

"Ooo, he's handsome!"

"Oh, look, darling! Isn't he just adorable? I wish we were the ones who sponsored him!"

"Yes, he...does look quite dapper in that suit."

"I should ask his sponsor if he can perform for my friends and I at our next get-together! Or should I save that for someone's next birthday?"

"I just want to eat him up!"

"I wonder if he could perform at the Beehive, too..."

So, uh...Is this what being a well-known celebrity is like? I'm going to have to get used to all this for the sake of my mission...It doesn't help that I already detest crowds unless I have some control over them...Which I do, but some of these comments are just too much...