#ao3 user scripts

[inkandarsenic]

The user scripts will also work on iOS!! There are apps for that! I use Userscripts because it’s free, but there a bunch of them, and it becomes an extension on Safari like any adblocker or Honey!

I personally have three userscripts right now, one to add a mark for later button to the bottom of fics as I’m searching

One to ad a marked for later and bookmarked fics button to the search bar to make it easier to get to that list

One to show me which fics I’ve seen, which I’ve kudos’d, which ones I’ve bookmarked, and also mark fics I don’t want to see as skipped.

All seen fics have a grey bar on the left, Kudos’d fics have a little red Ao3 symbol with hearts and bookmarked fics have a grey bar with diagonal lines along the right. I can mark fics as seen or skipped as I scroll and skipped fics can be set as collapsed

a placeholder

Or completely hidden

The settings for that are under ‘Seen Works’ on the search bar

I had one to add a floating comment box so I could comment as I read, but for whatever reason it stopped working with all the others ones I have? Or maybe it just didn’t work with my site skin (I have a site skin to shorten long tag fields and turn the “you have already left kudos” message green)

Go forth and have fun customizing your AO3 friends!

Disclaimer: none of these answers are official, and may not work for your particular use case. If there is a specific feature that an unofficial app had that you don't know how to replicate on the AO3, let me know in the notes and we might can crowdsource a solution.

A lot of people used the Archive Reader app to access stories on Archive of Our Own, and have been upset that the app is now charging to read longer than an hour a day. AO3 (and its parent organization, the OTW) has made it extremely clear in recent days that this app is unofficial and that there *is* no official app. They encourage people to use the website.

However, there are MANY reasons you might want an app, and in a bunch of those cases, there are ways to do those things without having to provide your login information to a random person running an app. Here is a round-up of solutions to the most common reasons I've seen people give for wanting an app instead of the plain AO3 website.

These solutions are based on the following assumptions:

You know what Archive of Our Own is

You often or primarily access it through a mobile device running iOS or Android

You understand what a browser is

You understand what a browser bookmark is

You understand what a site skin is

I need a widget on my phone's homescreen, not just a browser bookmark.

You can do this with any website, not just AO3! Instructions here: https://www.howtogeek.com/196087/how-to-add-websites-to-the-home-screen-on-any-smartphone-or-tablet/

I need Dark Mode.

AO3 has a default site skin for Dark Mode, it's just called Reversi. Find it here, or at the bottom of any page on the website. https://archiveofourown.org/skins/929/

I need to be able to read stories when I don't have internet.

Every work on the AO3 has a download button, so you can click on that and download the story for offline reading in the ereader app of your choice. More info on how to do that is in the AO3 FAQs: https://archiveofourown.org/faq/downloading-fanworks?language_id=en#accesslater

I need to be able to change the text size of the website itself.

If you have an AO3 account (and you should!!) you can do this with a personalized site skin! There is a simple tutorial here: https://www.tumblr.com/ao3skin/667284237718798336/i-have-a-request-if-you-dont-mind-could-you

I need to be able to change the text size in downloaded stories.

My personal recommendation: Don't download in PDF format. All the other formats you can download in can scale the text size up and down, assuming you open the work in the correct app. For me, I download works in EPUB format and read them on the built-in Books app on my iPhone. I hear good things about Moon Reader on Android as well.

I need to be able to replace Y/N in fics with an actual name.

ElectricAlice has a bookmarklet for that here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34796935

I need to be able to save specific tags and not have to search them up every time.

If you have an AO3 account (which you definitely should) then you can favorite up to 20 tags which will appear on the landing page. The AO3 FAQ explains how that works: https://archiveofourown.org/faq/tags?language_id=en#favtag

I need to be able to save specific filters and be able to apply them to any tag.

Reisling's beautiful bookmarklet has you covered: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33825019

I need to be able to permanently hide certain tags.

The best option is adding this to your site skin. (Must be logged in.) Instructions here: https://www.tumblr.com/ao3css/719667033634160640/how-to-permanently-filter-out-certain-tags-on-ao3

I also hear things about the AO3 Enhancements extension (just for Android/desktop, sorry iOS folks): https://www.tumblr.com/emotionalsupportrats/686787582579851265/browser-extension-everyone-on-ao3-should-know

I need it to save my place on the page and not reload.

This is really mostly a browser error--Firefox on iOS does this to me A LOT. Your best bet is to download the work and read it in an ereader app. A lot of people also will make an ao3 bookmark and write in the notes section which part they were at, but that assumes you aren't falling asleep while reading. (Which is the main reason I have this issue, lol.) For more info on bookmarks, see the FAQ: https://archiveofourown.org/faq/bookmarks?language_id=en#whatisbookmark

I need it to keep track of which stories I've already read/opened/kudos'd.

If you have an account (which you should) then the "My History" page keeps track of every fic you've ever clicked on. No, it isn't searchable or sortable, but it does exist. For fics you've kudos'd, I have yet to find a solution for iOS. For desktop or Android, you can use this excellent userscript: https://greasyfork.org/en/scripts/5835-ao3-kudosed-and-seen-history

I need an app because the website's search is terrible.

(I genuinely don't understand this one but I have seen it multiple times so on the list it goes!!) The search bar at the top of the screen is a keyword search. If you'd rather search within a specific field (like title or tag) then you'll want to click on the word "search" at the top of the screen and select Work Search or Tag Search. To search users, use People Search. To search Bookmarks, use Bookmark Search. (If this is you, please tell me what the heck you mean by "search is bad" and how an app helped with this.)

I need to be able to sort stories by date posted/number of bookmarks/alphabetical/etc.

You can do this using the filters sidebar. Pick a tag you want to filter on (like a fandom, character, or relationship) and then click on the "Filters" button. The sidebar will pop out and you can sort and filter on a boggling array of specifics. A good filtering guide: https://www.tumblr.com/saurons-pr-department/718665516093472768/if-there-is-something-you-dont-want-to-see-in

I need to be able to mark stories to read later.

AO3 has this feature built in! If you have an account (which you should) there is a "Mark for Later" option on every work.

I need to be able to listen to stories using text-to-speech.

Microsoft Edge web browser has a built in text to speech function. Supposedly it works on both iOS and Android, but I have not personally tested that. iOS also has a native accessibility feature in settings for text to speech that will work on the Books app, so I assume Android has a similar functionality.

I need an app because <other reason>.

The AO3 Unofficial Browser Tools FAQ might cover your use case: https://archiveofourown.org/faq/unofficial-browser-tools?language_id=en If not, give a shout and we'll see what other tumblr users suggest!

[quihi]

New user script: for when you want to read real crossovers in those pesky fandoms that don't have fandom metatags.

Thoughts on whether it should also have the ability to exclude crossovers? Or if a second script for that purpose would be useful? Crossovers are uncommon enough in all my fandoms that excluding them is never something I need to bother with.

[hamadisthings]

AO3 IS IN TROUBLE IF CALIFORNIAN AGE VERIFICATION LAW PASSES

An upcoming Age verification bill centered in California will be voted on Monday-- And as always,instead of actually protecting kids, it will lead to more online censorship and privacy risks, as it will force websites hosting to verify their users age by sending their ID, your browser history would be linked to it. if you live California, call your reps and tell them to oppose the bill AB3080 as it highly unconstitutional.

They also deem LGBT content harmful to minors, as well as mentions of weapons and tobacco, putting them on the same level as NSFW content.

Since AO3 headquarters reside in California, much like Reddit, Twitter,Discord and Youtube (and others) who knows how bad the effects would be. Instead of just effecting Californians (even then its concerning.) the effects would be US or even worldwide. VPNs wont help.

Please take actions here (a script is included to help you) https://www.defendonlineprivacy.com/ca/action.php

Find your rep here https://findyourrep.legislature.ca.gov/

You can also send faxes using this https://faxzero.com/

If you don't live in California, please talk about this,tag your friends and urge others to take actions, make posts and tweets using the hashtags AB3080 and NoOnAB3080

More info HERE

Edit: Lots of this information is outdated for a more recent post click here.

Voting has been delaying until Monday May 13th 2024

[ao3commentoftheday]

One of the really cool things about AO3 is the community of users. We can all appreciate the authors and artists, the readers and commenters etc. But in this post, I want to shout out the folks who write scripts and extensions, make skins, or otherwise mess around with the interface and what it can do.

Any time I see a post saying something like, "I wish AO3 could ___" or "I wish I could do ___ on AO3" I'll pause for a second and think, "I'm betting a lot of other people feel the same way." And then I'll ask around or I'll try a quick google search or I'll hit up greasyfork or github and I'll find that, a lot of the time, someone else out there has felt the same way and had the skills to do something about it.

So yeah. This post is a thank you to those people. Thanks for doing cool shit. I appreciate it. ❤️

[sugaredrhubarb]

A QUICK GUIDE TO AO3 CUSTOMIZATION FROM SOMEONE WHO KNOWS NOTHING ABOUT CODING

ft adding pink to everything and my secret to writing long comments

note: I originally posted this to twt but if that place burns in a fiery pit I spent too long on this for it to disappear, so I'm putting it here too :)

so many people know way more about this than I do, but this is a step-by-step walkthrough of the changes *I've* made, and hopefully it works as an introduction people can build from for whatever they'd like to do

There are a lot of images in this post! (click to enlarge)

to start, AO3 skins

site skins change how the AO3 website appears when logged in (even on mobile), mine is pink and blue!

I'll have my skin turned off throughout the post so the guides appear as they will for you

to create, edit, and view skins, go to the "skins" tab from the left-hand menu. you can also view public site skins from there or from the button in the preferences.

public site skins are made by other users. i would really encourage previewing and exploring them to become familiar with the possibilities (maybe you just want to use one of them and now you're done!)

to create your own skin

on the skins page, click "create site skin"

if you don't know CSS (same), use the wizard! clicking on the "?" will give more information about each option

I only use the colours section you'll see a link right there for hex codes I use pink as a header colour and bue for accent but lots of people change the background colour and that looks really cool!

submit

The next step (optional!!!) is to add CSS from a public skin to your own. I use "ByLine" by Branch. this separates the tag categories and adds spacing to make them easier to read.

here is a before and after using the fic "Landslide" by @roosterbruiser as an example

to see the CSS of a skin, click the title

copy all the text below the CSS heading

in the skin creator/editor press the custom CSS option and paste all the text into the CSS box

you can have both wizard and custom CSS settings, in mine you can see the header and accent colours as well as the CSS

level up: USERSCRIPTS

userscripts are small pieces of code that modify a website. for AO3, this may involve adding shortcuts and buttons or even advanced tagging functions (computer people, I'm so sorry if this is wrong, I'm trying). I use Greasy Fork and Tampermonkey.

This is how I write long and formatted comments!

Greasy Fork is an archive of userscripts and Tampermonkey is a browser extension and userscript manager. You don't need to use these two in particular. please use your common sense when downloading anything or adding permissions to your browser.

Greasy Fork guide on installing scripts

Install Tampermonkey on Chrome

there are TONS of user scripts for AO3. This is another good opportunity to explore all the possibilities. there are lots of more complicated options I haven't explored.

scripts for AO3

i use this floaty review box

and this comment formatting

EDIT: if you use chrome you might need to turn on developer mode in your chrome extension manager - you can google "tampermonkey developer mode" and it should explain that :)

to install (once you have Tampermonkey installed):

open the script you want in Greasy Fork and press install

Tampermonkey will open, press install again

clicking the Tampermonkey extension will let you toggle scripts on and off, and opening the dashboard will let you view, edit, and delete scripts

i find i can only have a few turned on at a time before they cancel each other out, but that depends on which ones you're using and someone more savvy might be able to fix that

how to use the floaty review box - write more comments!

there will now be a "floaty review box" button at the top of the work, it will open a floating text box you can move anywhere on the page. highlighting any text and pressing the insert button will paste the text with italics into the box

anything you type in the review box will appear in your comment at the bottom of the page!

if you have also installed the comment formatting script, you'll be able to highlight any text in your comment and use the new buttons above the comment box to format it

thats all ive got! Hopefully this is a good starting point to get familiar with some of the terms and basics for skins and scripts <3

if you want some inspo for how to comment on fics i made a whole fic rec list on twitter based on comments I've left, it's here. i have a masterlist of recs there mostly for darklina/reylo and similar ships.

the tag #reading with ru has cod recs and me talking about books

:)

[taikeero-lecoredier]

3 BAD BILLS TO KEEP IN MIND FOR 2025

KOSA : Kosa is a terrible internet bill that would make it mandatory for platforms online to enforce age verification via ID, and deeming any content “inappropriate” for kids to be banned. This could range from not safe for work content, to health ressources,LGBT ressources, to climate change. It’ll be up to politicians to dictate what is and isn’t proper for kids,and, of course, killing encryption. Here are some ressources to get ready to fight KOSA : https://taikeero-lecoredier.tumblr.com/post/738573191699660800/we-have-a-server-to-help-fight-against-this-we Scripts to use : https://docs.google.com/document/d/1IyBUe6frFGF44rJQU3TahZ5zyG3tC7jai_hPneAKlnM/edit?tab=t.0 JOIN OUR SERVER AGAINST IT ! We organize call in days and other ressources. https://discord.gg/FPDJYkUujM

HR9495 would allow to stripe an organization of it's "non profits" status, and force them to pay taxes if the govt can "prove" that they are affiliated with terrorists with barely any concrete proof. This will impact non profit organizations such as ACLU, AO3, Fight For The Future, Electronic Frontier Foundation, AO3, The Internet Archive and many more that fight for human rights. Here is more infos and scripts you can use here : (THE POST IS OUTDATED DATE WISE BUT THE SCRIPTS IN THIS POST CAN STILL BE USED) : https://taikeero-lecoredier.tumblr.com/post/767859383226056704/hr9495-on-its-way-to-senate#notes Keep an eye for when ACLU makes a new call tool you can use,or contact your reps directly when the time needs it,they should look like this (The "Stop The Internet Censorship" discord server link above also help fight against it !) CHAT CONTROL If you are in Europe, I urge you to keep your eyes on this horrid EU proposal, as it will make it mandatory for private messages to be scanned by artificial intelligence, and users have to agree to be scanned or else they cant send images, videos or links anymore. More infos here : https://www.patrick-breyer.de/en/posts/chat-control/ Email English script: https://taikeero-lecoredier.tumblr.com/post/769688923967537152/chat-control-email-script-english#notes Contact your meps : https://op.europa.eu/en/web/who-is-who/organization/-/organization/COREPER/ Join our server against it, we gather ressources and scripts against it ! Non EU people are more than welcome to join us ! https://discord.com/invite/e7FYdYnMkS

[billiewena]

THREE YEARS SINCE NOV 5TH, 2020 as summed up by Supernatural (sequel to this and this)

image ID & context below:

[image ID: screenshots of Supernatural paired with screenshots of various tweets, news headlines and Tumblr posts.

A screenshot of Ed and Harry in SPN 3x13 Ghostfacers saying "You gotta be gay for that poor dead intern" with a screenshot of Misha Collins at the SPNNJ 2023 convention saying "I got a call from Warner Bros and they were like hey uh...is there any world you just let it go?" This is in reference to an incident in 2022 where Misha accidentally made headlines after a comment that seemed to be referring to his sexuality. His comments at this year's panel imply that the studio in fact did not want him to retract the comment and make the apology that he posted, but to instead just roll with it.

A screenshot of Bobby saying "Time travel?" and Dean saying "Yeah" in SPN 6x18 with a headline that says "Jensen Ackles' Explains The Winchester's Multiverse Twist & Supernatural Connection." This is about the series finale of Jensen's Supernatural spinoff "The Winchesters", in which it is revealed Dean and the Impala somehow traveled the multiverse to the alternate timeline the show takes place in.

A screenshot of Dean in SPN 15x08 saying "He's back, and he's out of control" with a screenshot of Misha Collin's first Tumblr post in seven years, a video with him and his brother being a public nuisance on public transportation. Also included are screenshots of various Tumblr users reacting with tags from various tumblr users. becauseofthebowties: "mishacollinsofficial tumblr account back from the dead???" myboobsarentsentientbeings: "this is the first thing he posts? after nearly 7 years???" casismybestfriend: "RED FUCKING ALERT MISHA IS BACK ON TUMBLR" cannabiscasgate: "who the fuck gave you back your password"

A screenshot of two news anchors in SPN 14x20, with one (named Jack) telling his co-host "I love you" and her replying "Jack?" with screenshots of the Destiel/Supernatural Confession meme trending multiple times this year with other current events topics like Russia, Titanic, etc. There is also a screenshot of a post by saintedcastiel that says "I cannot believe that since we started using the destiel meme as a breaking news alert that there hasn't been ONE destiel news anchor AU fic where they're co-anchors on the morning news. cas confessed on accident while they're on air and dean doesn't know how to respond so he just reads the next thing on the teleprompter."

A screenshot of Dean in SPN 5x14 as Cupid says "I-I was just following orders" with a screenshot of an anonymous Tumblr ask to user luxshine. The ask says "Hey! I was wondering if you have any updates on the LATAM dub situation and if you were/will able to contact the dub director". luxshine says "Hi! Well I could get the translator (you know, our dear rogue translator) and he told me that while he doesn't remember it completely (because he translates a lot of series) if Dean said "And I you" it's because the script he got said "And" I you" and the video he saw said "And I you" because he doesn't add stuff." This is in reference to a change in Spanish LATAM dub of Castiel's confession SPN 15x18, which added a line where Dean reciprocates, which was previously suspected to be a change added by the LATAM dubbing director or translator

A screenshot of a detective from SPN 8x08 saying, "[Chuckles] Whatever you say Scully" with a screenshot of the tumble blr blog ao3topshipsbracket's poll "AO3 Top Relationships Bracket - Round 2 Side 1" with Fox Mulder/Dana Scully (The X-Files) vs. Castiel/Dean Winchester (Supernatural.) In the final results from 51,514 votes, Mulder/Scully won by 53% and Castiel/Dean won by 47%. In early 2023, Tumblr added a polls feature which has led to numerous content, debates, and bracket polls similar to this.

A screenshot from SPN 11x15 where Dean says "No money, no glory" with a headline that says "Supernatural creator Eric Kripke gets 'zero' residuals from Netflix"

A screenshot of Dean rising from his grave in SPN 4x01 with a screenshot of a post from the official CW Supernatural Instagram with a clip from the pilot episode and the caption "And the story continues..." and a comment from a user that says "THE STORY CONTINUES?? WTF ARE YOU TRYING TO TELL US?? I HAVE ANXIETY YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME." For context, no one is sure if the post was supposed to reference new content from Supernatural or not but it has led to speculation.

A screenshot of SPN 8x01, with the onscreen lyric "Another year has passed me by."

[goodlucktai]

one of the rotten ones

rottmnt word count: 2k pairing: don & leo, don & OC title borrowed from anthems for a seventeen year old by yeule part of the archer au :) read on ao3

x

“I don’t think Gio likes me,” Donnie blurts. 

He’d feel self-conscious if he was pressed to admit it anywhere else, but he’s in the infirmary, and the only one around to hear him say so is his twin. 

They’re moving into hour two of Leo’s “faves” playlist and the fourth consecutive Taylor Swift song even though he swore he put it on shuffle. Leo is going through cabinets and shelves systematically, updating inventory on his phone, while Donnie infodumps about energy storage and projectile dynamics and the breaking strength of crossbow string. 

Donatello’s base knowledge of this particular ranged weapon is severely lacking, which is a significant personal problem for him now that he has a sibling with a preference for archery. He needs to be the world’s leading expert on the subject yesterday. He has half a dozen half-formed plans for things like sonar bolts for 3-D mapping, which may or may not have been inspired by the Jupiter Jim Pluto Vacation run.   

Only every glance at the project folder simply labeled ‘G-01’ causes an uncomfortable feeling to squirm to life in his stomach, not unlike the Krang tentacles that had attached themselves to his carapace on the day the world didn’t end. 

Donnie isn’t good at people. He doesn’t know how they tick, and there are no reliable lines of code or handy user manuals that he can fall back on when he’s mystified by human behavior. 

His siblings don’t have the same problem. Leo is perceptive to a degree that borders upon clairvoyance, Mikey is the single-most emotionally intelligent member of their family, Raph is more charming than he gets credit for, and April can talk her way through any closed door, police tape or VIP-only entrance. None of them fumble the way Donnie does when a social interaction goes off-script, like it’s a volleyball that got served his way without the ample warning he needs to be anything approaching passable at the sport. 

But he knows he’s not imagining it—the way Gio seems to brace himself when Donnie comes into the room, like he’s expecting a confrontation every time. Like the last thing Donatello could want with him is something good. 

Donnie can be a lot. They all can. They come by it honestly, equal parts chaotic lab experiments and their father’s sons. And not every structure is built to withstand hurricane winds. Not every person is equipped to deal with a Hamato level weather event. 

But he has never seen Gio flinch away from anyone else. 

So he did what he always did when confronted by something outside his formidable repertoire—he took it to Leo. 

There had never in Donnie’s life been a problem that couldn’t be made into their problem. It came with twin territory. 

And Donnie’s twin in particular is good at translating Donatello and translating other people for Donatello, and jumps on any chance to be helpful and feel wanted, and absolutely loves problems. It’s one of the most annoying and endearing things about him. If there is any trouble within a hundred miles, Leo will find it. He will worm his way into the center of it and then puzzle his way out from the inside. Most other clever and curious people were satisfied by the daily Wordle; Leo would chew through a wall unless he had something more hands-on to occupy his mind with. As polar-opposite as the two of them could be in, in that regard, they were one and the same. 

It’s somewhat reassuring to Donnie that Leo’s immediate reaction is plain incredulity. He looks baffled, like Donnie has just started throwing stuff around the room for no reason. 

(He knows better. In the medbay, of all places, that would be a death wish. Leo runs a tight ship here and only here.)

“Sorry, you don’t think Gio likes you?” Leo says slowly. “Our Gio? The guy who let you infodump about the mycelial networks of fungi to him for almost two hours, all because Mikey mentioned he was making mushroom stir-fry for dinner?” 

Donnie scoffs, but he can’t help but feel warmed by the reminder. Gio had settled right in, the way he always did once he was sure of his welcome, and watched Donnie talk like nothing more interesting existed on this side of the equator.

“His eyes didn’t even glaze over,” Leo goes on, doing what he always does and pressing the advantage. “That’s a new personal best in this family. Even April started looking for a window to climb out of at the thirty minute mark.”

“There was bound to be at least one other mutant turtle in the New York metropolitan area with an appreciation for botany,” Donnie says imperiously, tilting his chin up. 

But the worry is still there, firmly rooted, trying to flower. Leo must be able to tell because his frown deepens, playfulness evaporating by the second. He pauses the music and sets his phone down. The room rings in the sudden silence, but it’s not uncomfortable, because it’s a room Donnie exists in with his twin. 

“I just want him to like me,” Donnie says. It’s a childish want, it makes him feel half his age, but it’s true. 

He was never one of those human kids lingering near the playground, on the edge of the classroom, desperate to fit in. He was never on the outs because he never had the chance to be. But this is probably what that would have felt like. 

Giorgio is quiet by default, absorbing everything with dark brown eyes, always pausing to think before speaking in a low, flat register that is becoming as familiar to Donnie as Raph’s comforting rumbles and Mikey’s energetic shrieks and Leo’s sweet or sly laughter. 

He hasn’t been anything but kind since he got here. He saved Leo, brought him home from a place it should have been impossible to come home from, so Donatello would put up with any manner of assholery from that quarter in exchange—but it’s not that at all. 

Once Gio’s initial guard goes up and then comes down, once they outlive that moment of consideration that verges upon scrutiny without ever crossing the line, the eldest turtle softens for any younger one like clockwork. He indulges whatever noise or nonsense they’ve brought with them like there is no better use of his time. 

It doesn’t seem like a lie. But Donnie is the least qualified person he knows to make that judgement call. 

There’s a lot at stake if he’s wrong, is all. 

Leo looks like Donnie has taken a melon baller to his insides just for fun. 

“I’d know if he didn’t like you,” Leo says with absolute certainty. And he probably would. And he would take it so personally. He wouldn’t let Gio know a single moment’s rest until the spotted turtle had a coming-to-Jesus moment and acknowledged his wrongdoings in canceled Youtuber apology video format. 

Since that isn’t the reality they live in—and Leo’s daily relentless pestering of Gio is harmless and little-sibling-shaped and decidedly not mean-spirited by any stretch of the imagination—some small part of the tight, unhappy feeling in Donnie’s heart has no choice but to accept that as the compelling argument it is. 

“He probably misses you, Tello,” Leo adds, something softening in his face that it hurts to look directly at. “His you, I mean. I know I would be a train wreck cosplaying as a person if I had to go someplace I’d never see you again. Can you imagine how screwed-up I’d be?”

Donnie’s whole soul shudders at the idea, at the nightmare that almost came true when the portal closed around the Technodrome and as good as severed Donnie clean down the middle. At the glimpse of a life he’d be forced to live with one leg, one lung, one arm, one eye, half a heart. 

“That’ll never happen,” he says, a little too loud. 

“You’re stuck with me,” Leo agrees. He means it, Donnie can tell—even after that almost-nightmare he put his family through, he means it. It’s one thing to take the nuclear option at the actual on-paper end of the world, it’s another to sit in a safe, warmly-lit room with his twin brother and try to conceive of an existence in which their dynamic duo was whittled down to a solo act. 

When they were little, Donnie once tried to explain how big the unobservable universe was. He told Leo that light from the big bang hadn’t reached Earth from all the way over there yet. It was a concept he struggled with as a child, that something could be so unknowable and immeasurable.

“That’s how big my ‘I love you’ is,” he said, all of seven years old and putting it into words the best way he knew how.

“I love you bigger than that,” Leo said promptly. 

“Ugh, you can’t,” Donnie said, frustrated at his twin for always trying to one-up him, for not understanding the huge thing Donnie was trying to compress and fit into his hands. “It’s not possible.”

“It is,” Leo said firmly, eyes gold to match Donnie’s, warm and shining in a way that was all his own. “I do.”

And then Leo went on to prove it. In a way Donnie never would have wanted him to—in an explosion that split the sky and left flash burns in their eyes, and the hollow pain of a surgical removal as the still-beating heart of their family was cut away, and the discordant electronic fuzz where a beloved voice had been rushing through last words, replaced by the sound of a radio without a signal, a device unpaired—but he proved it in a thousand other ways, too. 

He was even proving it now, this afternoon he spent leaning on a forearm crutch and ambling around to various shelves and cabinets to keep up with his stock of medical supplies that had been severely depleted in the weeks after the invasion. Leo had carried bandaids and lidocaine spray in a tiny tote bag since he was two feet tall. He couldn’t stop bad things from happening but he could try to make the bad things better. 

He’s looking at Donnie like he would right every wrong for him if he knew where to start. Like the unobservable universe was small enough to fit in his pocket compared to the lengths Leonardo would go for Donatello. 

Leo is the younger twin, but sometimes the only thing there is for Donnie to do is shuffle over and bonk their foreheads together and believe him. 

“If Gigi hated you, he wouldn’t be a Hamato,” Leo announces, muffled and silly and entirely correct. “It’s a required qualification. You must have missed that meeting with HR.” And then, because it’s important, he whispers, “I promise, okay?”

“Okay,” Donnie whispers back. 

At about that moment, TSwift’s I Think He Knows comes on, proving once and for all that there is actually no way Leo’s playlist is on shuffle. The weighted moment they’re holding on tight to transitions into a lighter one that gets flung haphazardly around as an immediate life-or-death struggle for the phone ensues. 

Stalemate is only reached when Splinter barges in to read them the riot act for daring to roughhouse while they had a non-zero number of broken bones between the two of them. Leo is bright-eyed with mischief and already fast-talking their way out of trouble the same effortless way April can rattle off her brothers’ favorite coffee orders, and Donnie’s worry has been soundly evicted, all its belongings in boxes in the yard. 

Sitting around has never been his style. He’s a turtle of discovery and invention. And now that he’s been reassured that the absolute worst-case scenario is not on the table—that it, in fact, was never on the table to begin with—curiosity rears its head and snaps up the dregs of anxiety like a hungry wolfhound who mistook it for an unattended rack of lamb. 

Hypothesis: Georgie isn’t being weird out of dislike of Donatello. Leo’s certain he’s not, so certain that he was willing to promise, point-blank and absolute, instead of being tricky and sly in the name of cheering Donnie up instead. Leo even offered a much more palatable alternative, but further evidentiary support is required. 

So after dinner a week later, as the whole family crowds comfortably around the banana split bar spilling across the entire kitchen island and argues over which toppings Gio and Casey should stack their bowls with first, Donnie blurts, “Can I see your crossbow?”

Giorgio really is one of the clowns in this circus. He proves it by putting his ice cream down, and picking the bow up from where it was relegated to the bench seat where everyone tosses their coats and shoes when they get home, and passing it right over. No normal person would put a loaded weapon in Donnie’s hands just because he asked nicely. 

As if in tacit agreement, both of Casey’s eyebrows shoot toward his hairline and Raph makes incredulous scoffing noises. April says, “You did not just—” at the same time Splinter blusters, “Purple, you fire that thing off in this house even once and I am grounding you from everything you know and love, including Orange!” and Donnie screeches, over Mikey and Leo’s hysterical laughter, “I can be trusted with projectile weaponry!”

The crossbow has been carefully maintained, but it hasn’t been used in weeks that Donnie is aware of. They’ve all stuck pretty close to home since the invasion, and it’s not like Gio knows anyone but them—it’s not like they need firepower for grocery hauls or pizza runs, though, knowing their luck, that could change any given day. 

But Gio still cleans it regularly, and he’s become a familiar sight at the kitchen table; parts spread out on an oil-stained rag, meticulous and methodical with the one belonging he brought here with him from the future other than the clothes on his back and the colorful friendship bracelet on his right wrist. 

It’s important to him, clearly, but he’s letting Donnie handle it with an indulgent look on his face. Like there are no better hands to leave it in than his little brother’s. 

Because he’s at risk of having a whole emotion about that out loud, where his entire family is assembled to witness it, Donnie quickly turns his mind onto the much safer road of gadgetry.  

He has never actually held a crossbow before, has never built or used one, but he’s been doing a lot of research. He has a lot of ideas. He wants to print mechanical broadhead arrows with explosive tips, or tear gas canisters, or EMP charges. It’s a brand new world of creative chaos and that’s not even touching all the build customizations Donnie has in mind. His fingers are already itching to dismantle and reassemble the machine into something better, something that won’t ever fail, something his big brother will love. 

Only—huh. What feels like a low-level electric current thrums to quiet life like it was waiting to be noticed by the right pair of eyes, just enough of a static shock to get his attention and guide his hand to the rail. Glowing purple does the work of an allen wrench in seconds and a handful of screws clatter to the table. Donnie removes the scope in one sure motion, and moves on to snap the rail from the stock. 

Raph says, low and warning, “Donnie,” intimately familiar with gremlin gadget mode and all the kitchen appliances and shared toys destroyed in Donnie’s early years in the name of science. But he’s not breaking this time, he’s just looking. 

He flips the rail over in his hands and finds the source of that odd electricity-conductive feeling. Hidden on the underside is a small embossed logo that Donnie would recognize anywhere, because it’s his.

“A-ha!” he says, absurdly pleased with the discovery. “A Genius Built mod.” 

The rail was one of the first things he’d had in mind to upgrade, but it looks like he’d beaten himself to the punch. 

“With a custom rail, we can add whatever attachments we want to the stock, way beyond just an average scope or a rangefinder,” Donnie says eagerly, his mind darting ahead in three different directions at once. “The world is our oyster, Georgie!” 

He can’t help grinning. His logo on Gio’s prized possession is that last little bit of evidence he needed. He’s never been happier to be wrong, and will endure Leo’s smugness for an unheard of two entire business days before initiating retaliation. 

No version of Donatello would put that mark on anything unless he really cared about it. 

And Gio wouldn’t lift the rail from Donnie’s hands, and touch his thumb to that stylized “D” as if to prove to himself that it was real, an expression of painful wistful longing on his face, unless he really cared, too. 

[sapphic-squids]

KOSA

Hi y'all!

For my fellow Americans - remember to keep calling your legislators about KOSA. This act is a mass censorship law. It would require Americans to upload their government IDs to the internet, and restrict all "adult content" (AKA queer, anti-racist, activist work). This is also an INSANE invasion of our privacy - which is silly because the recent tiktok ban was passed under the guise of protecting our data and privacy. KOSA frames itself as a bill that would protect children, but it will do the exact opposite by restricting access to information that could help queer kids.

Also, for my fellow ao3 users - this would restrict access to sites like ao3 because of queer and explicit content.

For more information, omarsbigsister on tiktok has links to petitions, call scripts, and more.

[olderthannetfic]

I thought it would be interesting to see if I could easily determine which ships had the most works updated in 2023.

It turned out to be fairly easy, though a little time consuming. I think these results should be reasonably accurate.

Some points to note:

I did this on my own account, and I have like 2 people muted. So I am capturing the effects of archive-locked works, but my numbers might be off by one or two works due to muting.

Works updated in 2023 is a number that constantly changes as works are deleted or updated again in 2024.

I didn't scrape the entire archive or anything like that, so it's possible I missed a ship that would bump one of these down below 100. I'd take the last few at the bottom there with a grain of salt. But I think we can be reasonably sure the top ones are accurate and that the kinds of numbers that we see at the bottom there (eighteen hundred plus works updated in 2023) are about where the cutoff will be even if we find a ship I missed.

--

As for how I did this, I went to the category tags and the rating tags, filtered for updating in 2023, then excluded ships in the sidebar till I got to 130-150 ships excluded. I also grabbed ships that are big in general from tag search, which you can use to find all relationship canonicals, ordered by frequency.

I combined those lists of ships, cleaned off the works numbers, and generated a list without duplicates. That got me three hundred and something (yes, they were mostly duplicates). I generated the relevant AO3 URLs, opened them in batches with Open Multiple URLs, and copied the works totals into a spreadsheet. Not as tidy as using a script but honestly pretty easy if you know a few spreadsheet formulas to clean up data.

The key here is that if you're only going for pretty good and not accurate beyond a shadow of a doubt, all you need to do is generate a list of likely ships, then check them.

It's possible that there's some much-updated ship that is so evenly spread across these various other tags that it just missed showing up in the sidebar. Hopefully, grabbing more than just the top 100 avoided this problem.

This method also doesn't take into account backdated works. If a whole archive was imported in 2023 but all backdated, there could be some ship that didn't have new works but where AO3 users experience in 2023 was of an influx of content.

I also did this just now, in late March/early April, so some 2023 works have inevitably been deleted or updated again. So the exact work counts don't represent the experience of using AO3 throughout 2023. A fandom active in early 2023 might not have much updating in early 2024, while a fandom active in late 2023 would. This could demote the latter a few places in the rankings since I didn't grab numbers on January 1st.

Even if a person scraped AO3 every day or was monkeying around in the databases, you also have to ask what conceptual answer you're after. Is it works a user could have read at some point during 2023, whether they were deleted by the year's end or not? Is it new-to-AO3 works or only newly-created ones, not including imported archives? Does it matter if the works are fic? If they're in English? What about accidental double-uploads or translations of a single work?

I hope this makes it clear why a definitive ranking is not actually possible.

However, despite these drawbacks, I am confident that the rankings above accurately represent the broad trends on AO3 in 2023. Just don't get too fixated on whether a ship should be at number 73 or number 74.

And, of course, I excluded these from the top 100:

Original Character(s)/Original Character(s) - 20,026

Minor or Background Relationship(s) - 16,187

No Romantic Relationship(s) - 8,052

Original Female Character(s)/Original Male Character(s) - 7,195

Original Male Character/Original Male Character - 6,283

Other Relationship Tags to Be Added - 5,618

Original Female Character(s)/Original Female Character(s) - 3,990

Original Character(s) & Original Character(s) - 3,210

Here's a spreadsheet if you want to see the actual numbers not as a shitty screencap. I left the next few below 100 for context.

[starillion]

Noldolantë

original work by maglor, reinterpreted & translated to english by tumblr user starillion

irë nalvë vë ir lië manen tullelvë istar? when we were like one family how could we have known?

nyérer ar macili serceón hiluvas më, yéni voro swords painted with sorrow and blood - that which would follow us for eons.

ondo enampanaina ar nilmi carinë ulaco umavë er realms rebuilt and friendships made but evil was far from gone.

tenn' aurë írë mahtanelmes ar sintanelvë until one day we assailed it and were crushed.

ú-nómi varnë i cotumo oir ar maptanes marelmar encarimë protected by no lands the enemy was (ever existant) and he seized the earth rebuilt.

ardar tarë ar mindoni hallë lantaner nu atsar moringotton no noble kingdoms nor towers high were left in the enemy's wake.

ata túlë mornië imbi noselva caivor ar oricuvar minomë callor and the strife between kin yet again left corpses and cowards in our camp.

tenna termi endaquetaina nossi leryaina i cotumo vélala endamarya at last our pleas were heeded and earth refound by hands of others we once defied.

below is ao3 link for this & my other poetry!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/34054858

and here goes rambles (as always)

this was originally written for a collab with /narnia144 on twitter about a year and a half ago. decided to revise it a bit though i'm too lazy to rewrite it all over again

about the ink used in tengwar scripts! the first & third pics are versions written in robert oster fire & ice while the second (and by my standards, the prettier version) is written in wearingeul(글입다) the phantom of the opera. i am so in love with this ink rn the swatch is heavenly beautiful

[dont-offend-the-bees]

DontOffendTheBees' DBDA Fic Masterpost

Or, essentially, my 2024 Ao3 Wrapped because this show is all I've posted on main all year 😅 But it's nice to be back in the swing of writing and it's been such a rough year, so I'm gonna take a minute now to bask in the glow of my accomplishments 💛

(please note fic links are to Ao3, and fics are locked to be visible to registered users only!)

Ongoing Fics:

Oh, Lonely Bones, Have You Forgotten? (M, 31.9k, ch. 3/4, Charles/Edwin)

A haunting little odyssey of Edwin finding his earthly remains, and figuring out where the hell to go from there. Was hoping to finish this off before the year was out but pain and other projects sadly got in the way! Don't worry, she will be complete one day, I swear!

Somewhere Beyond the Sea (T, 7k, ch 1/5, Charles/Edwin)

A sweet and magical Payneland Ponyo AU, written originally as a Secret Santa gift and then ballooning WAY out of proportion! I'm so, so excited for how this one turns out!

One-shots:

The Kind of Light That Means Just Love (When My Baby Smiles at Me) (T, 1.4k, Charles/Edwin)

Where it all began, a little ficlet I wrote based on a writing group prompt which made me realised how much fun the character voices were to play with. Short and sweet, Charles takes photos of Edwin and finds ways to be cheerful about it even when he doesn't show up in them.

Outside Looking In (T, 3.6k, Charles/Edwin)

Outsider POV fic in which Charles and Edwin are overhead having a very strange but sweet conversation while in their older disguises. While this was an early fic and there's probably some stuff I'd change about the dialogue if I wrote it now, I'm so fond of it and I'm touched by the response to it - ESPECIALLY in the form of Robin's incredible gifset! (this gifset MUST be reblogged by everyone, btw.)

The Scenic Route (T, 2.1k, Charles/Edwin)

A short, sweet little agency outing and Payneland get-together, written in large part to daydream of a better world of public transportation while I was stuck standing on a cross-country train for two hours.

No Rehearsing It, No Reversing It (T, 9.3k, Charles/Edwin)

Mandatory 'Charles massively overthinks getting together with Edwin' fic, a comedy of errors, featuring foiled kissing schemes, party games, flimsy excuses, and my first fateful foray into discovering how fun Cat King is to write.

’Cause You Cut Through All the Noise (M, 5.3k, Charles/Edwin)

First day of Payneland week, what a time! Edwin helps Charles calm down from a panic spiral with a healthy application of sweet, gently non-sexual dom/sub play, featuring sweet words and soothing games of cat's cradle.

Though We're Strangers 'Til Now (T, 4.7k, Charles/Edwin)

Payneland week day 2. One of my more out-there concepts; in the campy tradition of Saturday night British fantasy telly a la Merlin or Atlantis, Charles and Edwin take the mythological roles of Theseus and Ariadne. This fic exists in large part due to @every-moment-a-different-sound making me aware of Payneland week and asking me to collaborate, and once again, it is COMPULSORY that you go and reblog their GORGEOUS SHOWSTOPPING INCREDIBLE GIFS.

I Got Sunshine in a Bag (T, 1.2k, Charles/Edwin)

Payneland week day 3. The little script-format fic where (spoiler alert) Charles confesses his feelings to Edwin in the safe haven of his own magical bag of tricks. Sweet and silly!

Something I Can Turn To (T, 2.4k, Charles/Edwin)

Payneland week day 4. The AU where Charles and Edwin are alive in the same era, and helped each other survive the brutality of their teenage years. This one was so lovely to write and there's a little bittersweet hollow in my heart carved out for it. This fic also spawned this absolutely lovely art by @yasartmeme (GO REBLOG, GIVE IT LOVE) and a collection of related stories by several wonderful authors. Every time someone else dips their toe into this universe it warms my chilly little heart.

If the Shoe Fits, Then I Won’t Try It On (T, 2k, Charles/Edwin)

Payneland week day 5. Another outing with the disguises; pre-canon, Charles and Edwin on a case, getting used to their new magic disguises and constructing dubious backstories.

Spinning on That Dizzy Edge (M, 1k, Charles/Edwin)

Payneland week day 6. Short little flirty, steamy, fun date night with Charles and Edwin in a haunted pub, with a piano <3

Lived My Whole Life Before the First Light (M, 7.3k, Charles/Edwin)

Payneland week day 7. AKA the attic scene, as told in a soulmate AU. A few people who don't generally like soulmate AU's have told me this one plays with the concept in a way they found interesting and refreshing! Suffice it to say there's a happy ending, but not of the sort generally associated with the genre. And this one comes with yet another mandatory-reblog gifset, this one by @mellxncollie, which is SO beautiful and should be in an art gallery and truly such an honour to bestow upon my little words 💛

We Glimpse Each Other Out of Phase (T, 3.7k, Charles/Edwin)

Another little instalment in the Alive AU of Something I Can Turn To, this time a bittersweet domestic scene on a sleepless night in the kitchen.

Wise Men Build Their Houses on Rocks While the Rest of Us Settle for Skeletons (M, 2.2k, Cat King/Edwin)

First foray into Catwin! (or at least first on the main account 😉) Edwin digs through the Cat King's magical artifacts; and finds an ominous relic of his past lives.

Sink Your Teeth Right Through My Bones, Baby (M, 0.6k, Charles/Edwin)

First of the spotify wrapped inspired ficlets! A little glimpse into Edwin's mind as he and Charles cautiously approach a new dynamic in the bedroom.

Looks Like We’re In for Nasty Weather (T, 0.6k, Charles/Edwin)

Wrapped ficlet. Edwin and Charles brace themselves in the face of an ominous supernatural storm brewing.

Keep Me Warm, Love Me Long, Be My Sunlight (T, 1k, Cat King/Edwin/Charles)

Wrapped ficlet, and preview of the Ghostcat 1920s AU currently in the works by myself, @dear-monday and @tw0-ravens! In a sun-drenched loft in the last days of summer, Thomas contemplates what he has, and when he'll lose it.

Should I Cool It, or Should I Blow? (M, 1.9k, Cat King/Charles)

Wrapped ficlet. The Cat King confronts Charles after another little enemies-with-benefits hook-up for a little clarification on what, exactly, he's doing with his life.

And that about wraps it up for 2024! But I'll keep adding underneath this post when I inevitably write more -- so I'll be seeing you guys in '25! 🥰 Thank you thank you THANK YOU everyone who's shown me such incredible support over this year, this has been such an unbelievably fun fandom experience and I'm excited to sink my teeth into even more and longer fics next year 💛💛💛

My 2024 Writing Stats:

Works Published: 19 Word Count: 89,859 Top 3 fics (by kudos): 1. Outside Looking In 2. No Rehearsing It, No Reversing It 3. The Scenic Route

2025 One-Shots:

Third Contact of a Brief, yet Significant Eclipse (M, 4.2k, Cat King/Edwin)

A spin-off/prequel fic set in the universe of Wunderkammer by dear_monday and two_ravens! A bittersweet little scene at the tail end of museum curator!Edwin's dalliance with the Cat King; a torrid affair which lasted the duration of the 1960s.

Bet Was Made, I Kneeled and Prayed (and Went Off Like a Shotgun) (M, 2.5k, Cat King/Charles)

Wrapped fic, the last of them. Charles and the Cat King enjoy a bit of fun, fighty, no-strings messing around; and the Cat King comes away with more feelings than he bargained for.

Now featuring gorgeous and heartbreaking gifs courtesy of Olly, who simply never misses 💛💛💛💛💛

Darling, This Place is a Lover's Oasis

(M, 1.4k, Cat King/Edwin)

Valentine's fic; Edwin gets some much-deserved pampering courtesy of Cat King and his ridiculous 1970s oversized bathtub.

Ain't That a Kick in the Head?

(T, 2.3k, Charles/Edwin)

Anniversary fic, getting together: Edwin and Charles have some banter and a thumb war to decide the fate of the tiny office sofa.

[dei2dei]

Just gonna throw out the idea that if you write original fiction and post it on AO3, you might want to hide it behind registered users only while the WGA and SAG-AFTRA strikes are on. The studios are going to start looking for ANYTHING they can develop; original stuff they can access and tweak and not have to pay for? Even better.

It's also worth noting that if someone engages in strike-breaking practices while a strike is on and they are NOT a guildmember, my understanding is that you will be banned from future membership. So some studio slimeball wants to develop your thing and have you write the script right now? Sounds awesome! But you will never be able to join the WGA.

[torksmiths]

‘but you didn’t want it’ (i swear somewhere this works - trista mateer, 2015 // why ‘the social network’ isn’t just ‘the facebook movie, the san francisco bay guardian - andrew garfield, 2010 // the social network dvd commentary track - andrew garfield, 2010 // alive in the new machine - ao3 user fuckener, 2023 // liner notes for the mountain goats’ tallahassee - john darnielle, 2003 // brokeback mountain script - larry mcmurtry, 2005 // a heart that’s full up like a landfill - ao3 user fuckener, 2023)

[cassyapper]

hi do u have any favourite fics to recommend?? I'm on the hunt for something good to read and I trust reccs more than anything 👀 👀

HI ANON I'M SORRY IT TOOK ME TEN BILLION YEARS TO ANSWER THIS BUT YES I HAVE RECS rubs my hands together. i assume this is for jjba specifically noritaro so i'm gonna focus on those but if u were thinking of smth else send a follow up ask!

0. he's bad news but i'm no better by simkjrs

putting this as "0" because it is incomplete (it is the only incomplete fic i'll put on this list) but it is. THE noritaro fic. you need to understand. it is SO FUCKING. good. as expected of the ceo of jotaro kujo simkjrs but holy fucking shit. jsut so good. i dont know if it will ever be finished but what we got? jsut gold. i tink it's absolutely worth a read take it from someone who normally doesnt pick at incomplete fics. jsut so good. fuck.

literally anything by ao3 user succubused

theyre so fucking wise they are THE noritaro understander. oh my god their fics are so good. i read their entire noritaro catalogue at the beginning of lockdown in 2020 and i actually lost my fucking mind i'm a different person now from it. holy shit actually life changing. just great stuff. they understand the characters so well. really intriguing interpretations and aus ugh. so fun

2. all deine wundun by ao3 user fivour

a short fic that goes into kakyoin's pov when he lsot his eyes in the n'doul fight with some jotaro there. rlly in character i think and jsut ugh. really good. technically it's for the ova but i can see it fitting any canon iteration of jotaro and kakyoin

3. you cannot see him for the storm by ao3 user deadofdecember

a fun exploration of jotaro and kakyoin's relationship and how it develops over the journey. it's so heartrending dude. the first noritaro fics i ever read #godbless

4. heartstopper. by razzmatazzz

REALLY FUNNY AND CUTE FIC where a non-enemy standuser accidentally turns kakyoin into a frog and yeah. princess and the frog stuff. it's so funny and cute they pass frog kakyoin around in a circle trying to see what will work ugh SO funny. so cute i lvoe it

5. habits by souriswriter

very cute and good fic of kakyoin being the observant young man he is regarding jotaro while hierophant is insufferable aobut his budding crush. i love sentient stands bro

6. anything by ao3 user queenieofaces

ANOTHER CERTIFIED NORITARO UNDERSTANDING oh my GOD their fics are so good. they get jotaro particularly well and jsut UGHGHG just so fucking good. i giggle i laugh i feel sick to my stomach. truly their fics have it all. they do a really great job of showing how close they got so fast and why it makes sense

7. anything by ao3 user skysquid22

i haven't read All of skysquid's noritaro catalogue yet but of the ones I Have read, oh my god. so fucking good. they really pick at their tragedy so well it makes me so sick oughh god. but other than that they have some lihter fics that are so funny. UGH. so good

8. off script by gandmvsm

*note that you need to be logged in to read this one* post part 3, kakyoin tries and fails to propose a handful of times before he finally gets it right at the perfect imperfect moment. soo fuckin cute and sweet

9. the stars under heaven by brightwing

EXACTLY THE KIND OF FIC I WAS LOOKING FOR AFTER I FINISHED EYES OF HEAVEN STORY MODE. so fucking good. there's more going on than jsut noritaro but my GOD it's jsut. so fucking good. they get jotaro so well im so sick. ughh so good

10. crazy little thing called love by nevermordor

CUUUUUUUTEST FIC EVER where jotaro is like it's not a date. wait is it. no it's not. im so fucking stressed out right now. fucking kakyoin IT'S SO FUCKING FUNNY AND CUTE i literally cannot read it in one sitting i have to get up and pace a bit like midway through cause it is so fucking cute. jotaro is so gone for kakyoin it's so fucking CUTE. and likewise kakyoin is trying so hard to impress jotaro and make sure he has a good night UGHHH. so good

11. creep by rigmaroler

very fucking cute and funny fic about kakyoin being weird as hell and jotaro's classmates not understanding not only how jotaor puts up with it but also how he in fact enjoys it. and just general post part 3 cuteness had kakyoin lived and gone to the same school. very sweet

12. lazarus by fivour

fivour again <3 this fic is like. au where kakyoin lives and it's in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. joseph heals him w hamon. kakyoin is disorientated and in pain and scared but jotaro is there and he keeps him grounded UGH

13. mahalo by platzchen

another proposal fic <3 this time jotaro is the one on the knee. so so cute

14. brighter than sunshine by undeadarchivist

ONE OF MY FAV NORITARO FICS FUCKING EVEERRRRRRRRR oh my god it's so fucking good and cute. it's a kakyoin lives au but it starts during part 3 then spans after it. jotaro is so in love with kakyoin it makes me so sick. he LOVES HIm! nad he in turn is so loved by kakyoin in this fic it has actually made me cry. i reread it so often. SO FUCKING GOOD fuck

15. let the good times roll by nevermordor

nevermodror again <3 this fic is so funny. alcoholic joseph, avpol, noritaro, stuck in a hotel while it rains (cause it is winter). just lots of fun and very cute, rlly nice to read this one to take the edge off of some of the more serious/angsty ones on this list

16. choked out by wlwchiaki

missing scene in the sun arc while they all settle into the reality they're in in that cave star platinum dug up. jotaro and kakyoin are so young here oughh it aches. FUCKK so good

umm yeah that's what i got for now. IF you want to see more, you can check out my bookmarks on ao3 <3

[fizzpixie]

Noncommittal Levi Ackerman x Reader Smut There are adult themes! MDNI :)!

note: this was intended to be a one-shot, however I decided to continue it as a series on my ao3 account! https://archiveofourown.org/users/noir_or_never/works (first chapter is cross-posted) word count: 8,111

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

"How about the price?"

The man inquiring you took a drawn, deep drag from a parejo cigar, inconsiderately puffing fat rings of smoke into your face. The acrid clouds wafted over your nose, making you grimace. His chapped lips tugged upwards into a wolfish, predatory grin, already fantasizing about what his intentions were with his purchase.

"Depends on the service." You stated plainly, an overt air of disinterest in your tone while addressing the man's queries. You observed how his face and hands were caked with a film of dirt as he rolled the lit cigar between his swollen fingers.

"Services? Plural?" He chuckled gruffly, releasing curls of smoke from his toothy maw.

You didn't respond. Rather, you reached inside your clutch and fished out a small piece of paper that resembled that of a business card. On it was scrawled with a variety of available services - a menu. You handed it to him. He inspected it carefully, almost as if he couldn't read and was trying to decode what the tiny script said. He frowned.

"Fifty dollars? Seems a little steep for twenty minutes."

"Of full service?" You scoffed. Fifty measly dollars for unadulterated access to your body for what would feel like eternity to you was quite cheap in reality. But, lamentably, the underground required that all goods and services were marked down. Not by legislation, but by the law of nature. Surviving required shooting low to improve the odds of clients spending money that they themselves had little to spare. Your arms were crossed begrudgingly over your chest as you offered him an insincere half-smile.

"Above ground it would be three hundred for fifteen minutes." Your words were heavy but you tried to play coy, feigning your irritability, offended that he would audaciously criticize a price that you reluctantly placed on your own body. The man returned you with a scowl.

"Well Miss, we aren't above ground, are we?" He followed his rebuttal with a deep suck from his cigar. He peered you up and down, his unwelcoming eyes drawing particularly close attention to your legs. You presented yourself in a short pleated slip dress that fell flatly against your frame and was deep maroon in color. Point-toe black stilettos were your choice of shoes when you were on the clock. In your right hand was a silver pleather clutch purse, and in your left, the butt of a cigarette that you had already smoked, hanging sad and loose in between your fingers. With his free hand he fished into his pilling trench coat pockets and pulled out a scrunched wad of cash, flitting through the bills until he counted out fifty dollars and handed it to you.

"No, I guess we're not." You accepted the money and stared at it blankly with resentment.

--------

The man was long gone, but your weary body was persistent that it lay in the dirtied and balled up sheets stained with sweat and filth. You glanced at the clock. Your shift was not over. Your gaze then fell to the crumpled up bills that you left on the night stand, your heart filling with disdain. One more man and your shift would theoretically be over, depending on what he wanted and how long it - or he - took. The room was eerily silent apart from the faint, dull ticking of the clock. The second hand clicked in melodic time and created an ominous ambience. However, the rhythmic squeaks, the creaking and cracking of the bed from moments earlier haunted you and your body recoiled in disgust at the recent memory.

Working at a brothel in the underground was not a job for the faint of heart. It took a significant amount of resilience and desperation to forfeit yourself over to such a callous industry. Apart from the complete violation of your body and your mental integrity, every single person you met was unremarkable. Selling your body to such menial men felt like your worth was contingent to theirs, and in your eyes, these men were worthless. Nothing but greedy, gluttonous pigs who were slaves to their salacious desires, reducing them to that of a mindless animal. But someday, maybe someday soon, you were going to apply for residency and purchase a ticket that would allow you access to the stairs where you could ascend up and out of the underground and into the outside world. The thought of feeling the welcoming warmth of sunshine on your pale, malnourished skin for the very first time, the thought of eating real food that wasn't just the crumbs that trickled down the cracks from the wealthy, the thought of tasting freedom - or, at least, the closest version of freedom one could feel living within confined walls - fueled a desire that could not be quelled. You were going to escape this life, by any means possible.

The reveries of your aspirations were interrupted by a soft knock at the door. The house mom poked her head in.

"We're about to do another display soon. Please make yourself decent." She briefed before closing the door again and left you to yourself. You slowly sat up, a little sore from earlier, and reached for your forgotten clothes before grabbing the cash on the nightstand and shoving it into your clutch. Heedlessly, you slipped on your heels and took a quick glance in the mirror to make sure you were presentable enough, and then you sauntered out the door, leaving the linens dirtied by your sins and regrets behind for the house mom to take care of.

You emerged from the hallway into the common corridor where stood a cluster of pin-up girls wearing revealing, degrading garments. The ages of these women ranged from teenagers to middle aged, and even one elderly. They were passively talking amongst themselves, waiting for the dreaded cue that signaled them to shamelessly parade themselves on stage. You joined the women silently, not bothering to make conversation until the word was called. Shortly following your arrival was a brief introduction from the brothel's pimp. He then said the word, and the group of women including yourself marched up onto the raised platform that was positioned towards the end of the room. The space was clamoring with expectant men. The vast majority of them were unkempt. However, there were a handful of conspicuously wealthy men littered here and there amongst the throng. It wasn't uncommon for men from above ground to venture down to link up with prostitutes. Many did so to have affairs, and to avoid running the risk of bumping into people that they would otherwise know in their personal lives. Doing so allowed them the comfort and luxury of a low profile. The thought was abhorrent, to think of all of the wives unbeknownst to their husband's deceitful nature. As the women began lining up, the men released a collective howl. All the women mustered a performative smile with eyes that were much more sad and honest about their true feelings, but you couldn't help rolling your eyes at their crude reactions. Like clockwork, you and the other women began to waltz around in a circle to properly display the entirety of your figures.

As you aversely flaunted in time, a cloaked silhouette caught your attention through your periphery. When you rounded the corner bringing you back to the face of the crowd you made eye contact with whoever it was that was staring you down intently. You fought the urge to look away due to the intensity of his gaze. Confidently, you maintained eye contact, and returned his stare, both of your eyes following each other for the entire perimeter of your walk up until you rounded the circle again and faced away from him. You quickly disregarded your stare-down with the man and proceeded with your composed flow, counting in your head each step you took to take your mind off the eyes undressing you. Before long, all of you dismounted the platform and allowed the men to step forward with their various inquires. To your surprise, for the first time in a while, nobody approached you. The cloaked figure had disappeared in the bustling crowd. Simultaneously you were relieved, yet disappointed. You really wanted to make some more money before the night was over, but you were emotionally and physically drained. About half of the women initiated their scripted small talk with their potential clients while you remained unbothered. You slinked into the corner of the room with an unreserved table and retrieved a cigarette from your clutch, flicking a match ablaze and touching the flame to the tip. The fire flitted for a moment before catching the tobacco leaves, and you took a long drag. You scanned the room, uninterested, as you watched a couple of girls start to walk away with their new clients and disappear behind the cigarette smoke-stained curtain that covered the hallway to the bedrooms. You sighed, taking another drag. You took a moment to observe the space. The main corridor was entirely wooden, with red-rusted lanterns being the only meaningful sources of light that hung from splintered beams supporting low ceilings. The center tables were tall and standing with no chairs, dressed with deep purple satin table cloths soiled with alcohol spatters and cigarette ashes. They were accented with white ornate porcelain ash trays as center pieces, the nicest things decorating the space. Matching purple drapes were tied around the proscenium arch of the stage where you had just retired from. In addition to the standing tables, there were smaller, sitting tables hugging the walls of either side of the room.

Idle moments passed and the corridor began to clear out, besides the men who loitered to chatter amongst themselves. Thank god. It was starting to get stuffy and the mixed stench of drunk breath and sex was growing more and more overwhelming. As you aimlessly watched the unclaimed women scamper around desperately trying to convince the remaining men to spend time with them, the same hooded man that you had noticed earlier approached you. You hadn't caught on to his pursuit until he sat squarely across from you. Your attention diverted to him. He remained silent as he took his seat.

"Hi there." You finally chimed after some awkward moments of silence. The man still said nothing.

"My name is (y/n). First time here?" That was typically your first line whenever introducing yourself to an unfamiliar customer. Half of the time, it actually was their first experience at your brothel. The other half of the time it was a regular. Not necessarily your regular, but it gave you a good gauge of his history within your industry and if you should be careful of him and potential diseases. You tried to drum up a conversation and sat up a little bit more to create the illusion through your body language that you were interested in having conversation.

"No. But not because I've ever received a service here." He finally said, with an apathetic flatness to his voice. He seemed as equally uninterested in being there as you were. Atypical for most men that came around, who were rather eager to get their night going. You were impartial to whether a man wanted to cut to the chase or if he wanted to draw out the much desired company with a conversation. This man didn't seem entertained with either idea, considering he wasn't very talkative. This perplexed you; then realization struck you. He was one of those guys that watched the girls display themselves for free whilst never having to spend a dime for his sexual satisfaction, a broke voyeur.

You chuckled a little and sucked on your teeth while sneering, "You wouldn't be the first freeloader to come in just to gawk for free and then leave." You said curtly and rolled your eyes for the umpteenth time that night. Your attention turned back to the women you were observing earlier. This conversation was over to you. One of the girls started arguing with a burly man about her prices.

"An attitude like that would kill the erection of any man. No wonder you're sitting here alone." The line of the man's lips were straight as he spoke. Your face twisted at his response, turning back to face the man. Your cigarette was almost out.

"It's actually quite easy for me to get clients." You boasted, your ego a little hurt by his comment. Rejection was frequent. At first it didn't bother you, but multiple declinations accumulated like bricks on your chest and bruised your self-esteem. In reality you knew it didn't necessarily have to do with how you looked. Many of these men were just flat broke. And having a preference wasn't a crime, either.

"Tsk. Considering men will fuck anything, that's not exactly a metric you should use to measure your pride."

"It's not," you huffed, "I'm just saying I'm good at my job."

"Clearly."

"What's your fucking deal." You whipped out another cigarette and sparked it up quickly, growing more frustrated with the scornful man insistent on pestering you.

"Did I strike a nerve?" His monotonous voice maintained his unreadability. The smoke wanned from your lips as you examined him. It was hard to completely distinguish his look with the level of lighting in the room and his choice of clothing. From what you could tell, he didn't appear to be old, but he didn't look young either. One skill that this job allowed you to hone was your ability to get a swift read on men within the first minute of interacting. However, you felt stumped. This was the first time in a while where you couldn't accurately profile someone with confidence. You resorted to examining his attire. He wore a hooded dark beige trench coat that was buttoned all the way up to conceal whatever else he was wearing underneath. He didn't appear to be from the underground, but you couldn't bank on that.

"Look," you started, tapping your cigarette above the ash try before returning it to your lips, "if you're interested in a service, I have options. You're assumably here for one thing. I'm here for one thing. I don't really think we need to discuss much else. But if you're just here to be a voyeur, I'm not the girl to be looking at." As you spoke you grabbed the same business card you had given to the previous man earlier.

"I don't need to see that." He dismissed you with a wave of his hand.

"How else are you supposed to know the services and their prices? If you're not interested that's fine, but if not please don't waste my time."

He clicked his tongue. "Because you obviously have much better things to do. Or should I say, people." Your stomach sank with unease at his crude commentary and uncouth demeanor. You were beginning to think he just came in to ridicule a poor girl for his own twisted amusement. You should add that as one of your services, you thought to yourself, enough men are probably into that and you might as well get paid for it. You chased your nervousness with another cigarette puff, your cheeks hollowing as you sucked in the smoke.

"You can talk to the others if you'd prefer," he motioned around the room, "I'm sure you could fuck any of them for a quick buck." You scanned the room at the remainder of the men who loitered around. All of them looked admittedly older, and dirtier. You groaned.

"You can talk to any of the other women as well." You suggested plainly. At this point, you weren't very keen on entertaining him any longer. It was probably lost money, but you were willing to miss out if it brought the uncomfortable conversation to a close.

"I chose to talk to you for a reason."

"Then why pick me?" Your question was not returned with an answer. He only maintained his persistent, unnerving stare. You both sat in silence for a bit longer. He was the one to finally break it.

"I will give you two thousand. But I want you to shut up and stop asking questions. Go to room 9. And I want you to be naked when I get in there," Your eyes widened at his words. Two thousand dollars? Two zero zero zero? That was the equivalent to four to eight weeks worth of work. Income was inconsistent in this line of business. Some weeks, clients only shelled out for the cheapest forms of physical intimacy. A full blown fuck came around if you were lucky yet also deeply misfortuned. "Also, put that cigarette out. Smoking is fucking gross. I don't need you tasting like ash."

With reluctance, you smothered the tip of your half smoked cigarette into the ash try, snuffing the glowing cherry until it died out. "I require payment up front." You associated prices like that with men who scammed women like you. You needed proof.

"Half now. Half later." His response held an air of frustration.

You nodded, and he unfastened the first few buttons of his coat to reach into the interior pocket. With discretion he revealed neatly folded bills. You held your hand out eagerly and watched in awe as he placed the cash into your palm. You stared at it for a good while, then proceeded to count back the cash to confirm he really did give you half, baffled at the sheer quantity of it. The man's iron stare contorted to a puzzled look.

"What's with the buffering? Get going." He barked impatiently.

"Yes. Right." You rose to your feet and moved with haste towards the curtain, your heels clicking on the dry wood as you disappeared behind it.

Moments passed, and you were poised on the freshly made bed with stick-straight posture, your body facing the door and your hands placed delicately, deliberately on your knees. You had been sitting erect for awhile, anxious and impatient for your newest client to arrive, and more importantly, for the rest of the money to find its way into your cob-webbed pocket. It felt awkward to be stationed so formally whilst completely nude, but it felt even stranger to lay casually as if anticipating a familiar friend. You wanted him to think you were proper. He had to have been someone from above ground.

You'd never been this nervous for a client before. Copulating with someone possessing so much wealth had you feeling like you'd need to put on a grandeur show to please someone of his status. I mean, what if he asked for his money back? Or decided he wasn't going to give you the other half? Your eyes darted to the clock - almost fifteen agonizing minutes had passed and he still hadn't shown up. Its fateful tick grew louder, echoing in your head as it bounced off the walls of the dark room. You wouldn't be completely devastated if he bailed, knowing you made a cool one thousand dollars without having to provide any services at all. A fleeting thought dawned on you that you could take a dash, run for it with what you've made. But unhappy and resentful clients could report these instances to the house mom or pimp, which would wind you up in grueling punishment. Or you'd lose your job. In the midst of your mulling, the door let out a rasp groan as it was slowly pushed open. The man slipped in and shut the door behind him followed by a hushed ker-chunk of the lock clicking into place. In the darkness, he stood idly, staring at you for a moment without uttering a word. He seemed to like doing that, standing quietly and staring. A creeping sensation tingled up your spine at his silent entry. Words failed you, and he took that as his sign to meander in your direction and sit next to you on the bed. He maintained ample space between the two of you, perhaps out of courtesy. You kept your head forward, feeling like if you dared to look at his face something bad would happen. You still weren't sure of what he looked like.

"Look at me." He demanded. With slow hands, he withdrew from the anonymity of his hood as it slumped to his shoulders.

You did as you were told and your body remained noticeably stiff as you craned your neck to grant his wish. When you gained the confidence to return his stare, you locked eyes, now for the second time. Finally, you could get a good look at him. Raven hair fell into his face in thin wisps. Around his cool, steel, hollow eyes were delicate lines that suggested he had seen some years. His narrow brows were immortalized into a chronic furrow as if he was always in thought, or always distressed about something. His nose was sharp, upturned, and his cheekbones and chin were pointed and angular. He was quite attractive, and although not necessarily young, pleasantly younger looking than your usual clientele.

"Not bad," he spoke with a soft voice upon getting a good look at you, a complete switch from his reductive tone earlier, "even if your attitude is piss poor." Your nostrils flared, heavily exhaling, your heart beginning to pick up pace rapidly. Your unfamiliar nerves prodded at your chest, even though the expected practice was one you have done dozens of times before. However, there was a nagging idea that this man was unpredictable and wouldn't act in accordance with the men you've worked with in the past.

"You never told me what you wanted." You spoke in almost a whisper, not having intended to sound so hushed.

He did not say anything, but rather, carefully dropped to his knees. He scooted in front of you, lifting his hands and placing his palms on the inside of your knees to part your legs slightly. He stared at what was between them intently. At this point, your heart was erratically thumping, pounding against your already tight chest in a way that you were convinced it would push itself right out of your ribcage and onto your lap. His head inched forward as he placed a gentle, tender kiss on the inside of your thigh. His velvet lips blossomed a shudder up your leg and throughout your whole body, rippling back down until a buzzing sensation pooled in your womb. His thoughtful pecks started to trail up the inside of your thigh, stopping right before meeting the delicate petals of your sex. His reservation of contacting your most sensitive spot caused your stomach to lurch forward as you white-knuckled the sheets on the edge of the mattress, yearning for him to continue. His affable actions caught you off guard, for you expected him to treat you as others did in the past. You gathered that from his unpleasant personality earlier. But you were being proven wrong with each of his movements. Upon reflection, you couldn't recall the last time someone gave you head. His gaze floated to yours to measure your reaction. He could see your eyes were squinted and your lips were parted slightly, sucking in quick, shallow breaths. He seemed satisfied with what he saw, and then, while maintaining eye contact, dipped his head into your crotch and licked a long stripe from the bottom of your hole, in between your folds and stopped at the top at the hood of your clit. An exasperated gasp escaped you at the feeling of his wet tongue splitting your labia, shooting electric shocks up your abdomen. He then started lapping at you, moving his tongue methodically and occasionally stopping to nip at your swollen clit before soothing the sting with a dexterous swirl around the bulb using the tip of his tongue. His head withdrew slightly so he could shoot a thick gob of spit on your pussy before diving back in, engulfing your wet cunt with the warmth of his mouth. His wet muscle thrusted in and out of you between his breaths. You groaned, your right hand instinctually palming the back of his head to keep him in place. His hand abruptly grabbed your wrist, squeezing it with a grip that demonstrated his strength.

"Don't." He muttered in between laps. He selfishly desired full control. You obeyed, yet his hold on your wrist remained as he sucked and kissed you fervently. His free hand slid up your thigh and crept to his tongues location. He withdrew again for a fleeting second to wet his longest digit with his mouth and then teasingly rubbed it against your entrance before slowly slipping it in, then replacing his mouth back onto your now throbbing clit. You mewled in delight and his slow pace began to pick up until he was steadily finger-fucking you whilst sloppily making out with the bundle of nerves that erupted inexplicable pleasure deep within your core. Your head started to get foggy, drunk on the chemical pleasure that flooded your clouded brain. All thoughts were banished and supplanted with primal desires of wanting more and more until you've had all of him.

"Your name," you panted, "I want to you know your name." A craving of his address plagued you - you needed to know what to call him and what to scream when the time finally came for him to fully bed you. He slipped in another finger in response, persistent with his motions until you felt your muscles tightening, a sign that you were on the verge of your relief.

"I'm gunna cum--" The words tumbled out of your mouth as you started to hyperventilate at the beaming sensations lighting you up. At your words, he suddenly removed his fingers and mouth from your aching pussy, a wet glistening string of spit connecting his tongue to your hole. You whined at his evacuation as he rose to his feet. The light of your climax faded away, your body begging in throbs and aches for him to return to his work. That fucker denied you your orgasm, he edged you. However, before you could complain, he released your wrist and with both hands shoved you onto the bed. With haste, he crawled above you and snaked a strong arm around your waist to hoist you from the edge of the bed onto the center of the mattress, and then again, lifting you up just enough to angle you so you were properly laying down with your head in the direction of the headboard. You squeaked at his powerful jerks. Now you were underneath him, and he was kneeling above you with his knees on either side of your thighs. Without thinking you reached for the noticeable bulge constrained by his pants, but he swatted you away.

"Quit." He ordered, and you lowered your hand away and closed your eyes, trying to catch your breath and control your trembling. He roughly grappled your jaw causing your eyes to shoot open again. He was glaring down at you, his face stern.

"Keep looking." You nodded breathlessly in compliance. He released his grip on your face, and with pain-staking slowness began unfastening his belt and pants.

"Please let me touch." You pleaded, wanting so badly to be the one to yank the hem of his pants down so you could witness his cock spring free. Never in your entire career had you been so eager for someone to ravish you. You couldn't recall a single time you've actually been horny with a client. Most of the sex you had was painful as your body dried up and tightened at the admittance of a foreign, selfish man. But this time you could feel your pussy bubble and moisten with anticipation.

"Touch me and I stop." His voice was low, and gravelly. The threat made you physically tremble, the thought of being so close to exploding and then ditched entirely was unbearable.

"You're so cruel." He let out one of his breathy scoffs.

"You don't even know." His fingers moved nimbly unzipping his pants, peeling back the flaps of his trousers and exposing his underwear. Before releasing his cock, he shed his coat and top, revealing a hard, chiseled body littered with faint purple-blue scars, glistening with a thin sheen of sweat produced both from the anticipation of you and the mugginess of the room. Then, fucking finally, he pulled down his boxers, letting his cock jump out and bobble up and down until it stood still, firm and tall. Your eyes grew wide in astonishment at his length, girth, and the slight upward curvature. Even after thoughtful prep, you feared that he would split you in half while nestling his cock deep into you.

After finally stripping himself of his pants and underwear fully, he moved his knees, nudging your thighs apart until he was in between your legs. He then leaned over, one hand on the side of your head holding him up while the other gingerly stroked himself. He brought his hand to his face to spit in it, and returned it back to his cock to aid in lubing it along with the precum dribbling from the crown. His face was mere inches from yours, both of you expelling heavy breaths into each others faces.

"Levi," He finally said, "my name is Levi." He aligned his swollen pink tip at the entrance of your aching hole. He slid the tip in between your folds up and down for a moment, swirling the head of his cock around your clit for good measure. His head nuzzled into the crook of your neck, smothering himself with your hair. His breath was hot on your ear, and he nibbled at the lobe.

"I want you to relax," He cooed as he shifted himself into position, "releaaaaax." As he drew out the word, he slowly advanced his pelvis forward, pushing himself into you with a little effort against the resistance of your walls. A stunted grunt left him as a strained cry left you. He didn't stop until the entirety of his length was burrowed deep up to the hilt of your cavity, almost barely touching your cervix. He remained still as your body adjusted to his size. After fitting himself comfortably inside you, he heaved himself up so he was towering over your trembling frame, now on his knees again while still maintaining his position within you. Each of his hands gripped the outside of your thighs so he could securely hold you and move your body in accordance with his desires. To your surprise, he didn't start plowing into you mindlessly, but instead, slowly and shallowly moved his hips to and fro, giving your body the opportunity to acclimate to his size. His tempo was rhythmic as he slowly gyrated his hips, barely removing contact from your skin. You could feel his cock pulsating, desperate for him to pick up the pace. But despite his own discretion he withheld his desires, practicing upmost discipline. Due to his slow and shallow movements, the heartbeat of his cock was more noticeable against your insides. It was driving you mad.

"More." You begged. He enthusiastically complied, eager and ecstatic that he could advance, and pulled out just a little further only to thrust himself back in. He pumped in and out while keeping his depth relatively restricted, still refraining from using his full length, the buttery friction of his movements along your insides feeling like warm wet silk. The feeling elicited the faintest moan from him. He did this a few more times before you pleaded again.

"More." This time he withdrew substantially more until he was almost entirely out of you, and pushed back in fully. You both moaned in unison. After the first complete thrust, both you and him could sense that your body was ready and eager for him to fuck you vigorously. He began speeding up, bucking his hips back and forth until he was ruthlessly ramming into you. You screamed in absolute pleasure.

"Levi!--" The sound of his name caused him to thrust harder, plunging deep into your aching cunt that was now gushing with juices as he growled vacuously. He fell into you, wrapping his arms underneath you while still maintaining speed, momentum, and force of each of his bucks. You reciprocated his embrace, hugging him as tight as you could while he penetrated you, all thoughtful calculations and movements to the wind. You both sighed heaving breaths of pleasure until he abruptly withdrew himself, picking you up with him and skillfully flipping you onto your hands and knees. He reentered as quickly as he could, not wanting to spend another second outside of you, and resumed his mindless, animalistic fucking from behind. The sounds of bare, wet skin slapping bounced off the walls, your ass rebounded against his hips while his hands harshly gripped your waist, forcing you back and forth onto him. You could sense that familiar feeling from earlier, the one where your lower half was starting to tighten and your body was growing weak. In this position, the curvature of his cock started to unknowingly pound into that sweet spot embedded at the end of your canal, each thrust shooting sparks of pleasure up your back. He let go of your waist and grabbed you by your neck with both hands from behind.

"I'm-I'm gonna cum--" You stammered, choked up by your cries and the now added pressure that wrung your throat. Because he had edged you earlier, you could feel this orgasm coming on much more intensely. Suddenly an overwhelming wave of pleasure exploded within you, blossoming through your body and the satisfaction repeating itself in generous waves as your pussy tightened around his pulsating member. He could feel your internal contractions, and that caused him to thrust even faster and harder than before, which you thought wasn't possible.

"Say my fucking name." He ordered, feeling his own release approaching.

"Oh god, Levi" You moaned, still intoxicated by your release that lingered longer than you'd ever experienced before. You were riding the waves of your high, unable to fully concentrate on his request. His grip on your throat tightened, as if demanding you to say more.

"Fuck, fuck, LEVI--" Your scream choked out pathetically through his fingers vice grip around your esophagus. The sound of your pitiful cries, the cadence of hearing his name quiver from your pretty mouth, the way your pussy clenched around his cock - practically sucking him in, he almost completely lost himself and all sensible judgement as he began climaxing. Just in the nick of time, he had pulled out, rapidly jerking himself to conclusion as he painted your back a creamy white. He heaved, letting out a quiet, pained cry at having to expel himself from your warm insides and being met with the cold air. Yet, he felt his own satisfaction spread heat throughout him. Euphoria left his brain disorderly. He roughly flipped you around again so you were lying on your back and immediately crashed down on top of you, trapping you underneath him, his labored breaths heavy and hard as he chased after them. Your arms felt numb, you felt like all of the blood from your body had rushed down to your core.

You both lied there, motionlessly, trying to reign control of your breaths until you both steadied into quiet, satisfied sighs. He had a moment of reflection as his level-headedness started to return to him. He was alarmed that he had almost succumbed to the urge to cum inside you, pumping you full of his hot seed. He was a man of discipline and self-control. Despite this, he waved it off, just grateful that he mustered through his absentmindedness in time. As he sandwiched you between himself and the mattress, you cautiously brought up a hand to his head, gingerly petting his slightly dampened hair, occasionally scratching the top of his scalp before returning back to a gentle stroke. Instead of swatting you away like you anticipated he accepted your loving gesture. He hummed with content into your neck. You both held each other endearingly, and let time pass.

You peered at the clock for the first time since he had arrived into your room. Both of you had ended up fucking each other for an hour, and thirty more minutes had passed of your after-the-fact embrace in silence. You squirmed underneath him, wiggling free from his weight with immense effort, and without saying a word repositioned yourself so he was behind you. You suggested with your body language that you wanted him to spoon you so you could cradle yourself in his arms once more. He understood what you wordlessly asked for and snaked his strong arms around your shoulders from behind, lacing his arms, hands, and fingers around yours and pulling you close until your naked body was flush against his. You basked in his warm embrace. Now that you finally had your post-nut clarity, you could think straight again.

"So why did you choose me? You said it was for a reason." You cut the silence with a question.

"You didn't look away when we made eye contact. But also, I found you attractive. Not much else." His response was swift, but satisfying. You let your other questions get the best of you now that you had him in a position where he was being responsive.

"Earlier you mentioned that it wasn't your first time here, but you've never received a service. Why is that?" The question had prodded at you the moment he had mentioned it. He honestly didn't seem like the type of guy to gawk at women for free just to leave. Not after the way he just treated you in the bedroom. But if that wasn't the case, then it made no sense for him to ever step foot in the brothel. He didn't say anything at first, but then decided to respond.

"I don't want to talk about it." He grumbled.

"Well, why not? You'll never see me again. You can treat me like a one night confidant," you tried to persuade him, "besides, someone like myself isn't in a position to criticize, yeah?" He didn't say anything for a moment again, and then sat up, prompting you to sit up as well. The look in his eyes suggested he was in deep thought, debating what he was going to say to you.

"My mother used to work here." His voice was low, tired, and there was a flicker of an unreadable emotion in his eyes. Your pupils dilated, bewildered at what you had just heard. You weren't sure what to say, how to respond.

"Oh," You started, choosing your next words carefully, "Then… If you don't mind my asking… Why would you come here?" He lied back down and sighed, you remained sitting up.

"When I was a kid, not very often, but sometimes, she would take me to work with her when she couldn't find my uncle to watch over me while she was gone. I don't remember much of it, which is probably for the better. But what I do remember, the house mom was kind enough to give me a room to myself so I didn't have to see anything happening to the women here. But I could hear everything. And I'll never forget the smell." His nose scrunched at the thought of the tainted past. You mulled over his story, trying to imagine what it must have felt like to be in his shoes. Sounds like a sour childhood. This also meant he lived in the underground growing up. You took note of this information.

"I appreciate the back story but that doesn't really answer my question. What compelled you to revisit such a terrible place?" You prodded. He found this annoying, but your questions were understandable.

"Because I wanted to fuck, but I wanted to fuck someone that I for certain was never going to see again. I will never come back to this place after tonight." This information made your heart sink a little. Although you knew that it was likely you'd never see him again, you hadn't really thought about it until just now.

"What if we were to cross paths in the underground? It's not a big place. Would that upset you?" Your suggestion elicited a scoff out of him.

"I don't live in the underground. Not anymore." Of course.

"What is it that you do above ground? Like, occupation wise? You seem to do well for yourself." You thought back to the money he gave you just hours earlier, and then remembered the remainder of the money he owed you. You weren't too worried about it though.

"I'm a soldier." He said curtly, clearly not too interested in talking about his job or disclosing too much privileged information to you, as you were still a stranger to him. His statement was pretty broad. A soldier could mean anything. You knew at the very least that it was probably apart of the military, but you couldn't have imagined it paid that well. This conjured more questions. But, you could read the room. You didn't ask any further about his work. You lied back down and curled up to him, half spooning as his arm pulled you in closer.

"You're off-putting, but you're an attractive guy and you fuck well and you have money. I'm surprised you don't have a girlfriend," you snorted, laughing to yourself lightly, then your eyes widened at the thought that maybe he did have a partner after all and just wrapped you into an adulterous act, "you don't have a girlfriend, right?" He could sense your sudden panic.

"No. I'm not that big of a piece of shit," he started, and then trailed off, "It's just not in my cards." It was apparent to you that he stung himself a little with his own statement.

"What do you mean?"

"Do you always ask this many questions?" His grip on your body loosened as he turned to face you.

"I'm sorry." You shrunk into yourself, meek under his obvious irritation. After being so gentle and loving with you, he was returning to his cold, reserved demeanor. He groaned, annoyed but felt guilty enough for snapping at you. He decided he would explain himself, something that he does not typically do. But you had made a good point to him, a one-night confidant was really not much different than a one night stand.

"Getting invested in someone emotionally is not in my best interest. I could die any day. And romance is distracting. A split-second decision could cost me or my comrades our lives. It doesn't help that heartbreak is inevitable with romance," This was the longest monologue you've heard from him since meeting. You weren't even sure if he was capable of speaking more than one or two sentences at a time. You listened intently. "If I have a choice to avoid more heartbreak, that is the avenue I will pursue. I need to make the choice I think that I will regret the least. I can't regret someone if I never meet them. But I still have urges. So I hire prostitutes to satisfy my needs whilst remaining distant and removed, romantically," He further explained, "That being said, I don't plan on keeping in touch." His eyes met yours at his final statement. There was a discreet pain behind them, one so subtle that if you blinked you might miss it. You knew that he wasn't pained because he couldn't be yours, but because he couldn't be anyones. You were a symptom of this decision of his. You hypothesized that it wasn't out of lack of interest, but out of self-preservation. You broke your shared gaze, looking down in defeat.

"Yeah, I figured..." His thumb and index finger cradled your chin, perching your head back up to face him. He planted a gentle kiss on your lips but pulled away quickly. You scowled, and out of desperation tried pulling him back in for another, longer kiss. He pushed you back.

"That's enough." He sat up for the final time and retrieved his coat that was lying on the foot of the bed, pulling out what was left of his cash.

"Here's four thousand more. Do yourself a favor and get yourself out of this god-forsaken industry." You gasped, eyes fixated on the money he just offered to you. You glanced up at him, then back at the money, then back at him again, trying to gauge how legitimate he was being.

"I can't accept this. I simply can't. I refuse." Having developed a soft spot for this man, it would feel like robbery to be handed such an insurmountable amount cash after having the best fuck of your life.

"You're a shitty prostitute if you're turning down money." He shoved the money to your chest.

"Levi." Your voice was stern.

"If you don't accept it I'll burn it." He reached for your matches that you had left on the bedside table and skated one across his teeth to ignite a weak flame. With no hesitation he met the flame's tip to a corner of the stack, showing he fully meant what he said.

"Hey! What the fuck!" You snatched the wad out of his hands, sparing the bills from harm minus the corner that had been barely singed. He clicked his tongue, knowing that he got his way yet again.

To your dismay he evacuated himself from your hold and got out of bed. He was slow to put his clothes back on, and you watched him quietly as he redressed. His god-like body was now once again hidden underneath layers of bulky attire. You certainly preferred him naked. After he finished clothing himself, he picked up your skimpy garments that you had left on the floor and made his way to you. You gave him a quizzical look, unsure of what he was doing. He started with your mini dress.

"Lift up your arms." You did, and he helped you weasel your way back into your tight fitted garments, sweat causing sticky resistance as he pulled the fabric down firmly but with care as to not rip any seams. You remembered his cum was still on your back and now gluing your dress to your skin. Then he reached for your panties and knelt down as he held open one leg hole, and then the other, as you pointed your feet and slid them through. He pulled them up, but right before covering you, he left a quick, tender kiss on your pussy, and then hid it away while adjusting your panties so they hugged your body comfortably. Lastly was your shoes. While still on his knees, he grabbed the heel of your foot to lift it and slipped one stiletto on over your toes before securing it onto the heel he held and repeated the same steps with the other foot. Never in your life has someone redressed you after sex. And it would probably never happen again. He looked you up and down, and then stood, making his way to the door. Pivoting on his heel, he faced you one final time.

"Take care (Y/N)." And then he disappeared, leaving the door slightly ajar. You listened as his heavy foot steps grew fainter and fainter until they were gone completely. You sat in shock, still processing his final acts of kindness and how he simply vanished almost as quickly as he showed up. You resisted the immense urge to chase after him, cling to him and beg him to stay. You wanted to ask him more questions, get to know and understand him more fully. But that is exactly what he didn't want. Your heart started to ache and you held your chest in an attempt to soothe the unfamiliar pain but to no avail. You felt like you had just lost someone close to you. If not that, then you felt like you had lost the opportunity to fall in love, assuming you hadn't already. But his logic made sense. Someone like him could never get too close to anyone. And surely, not to someone the likes of you. Tears pricked at your waterline, but none fell.

"Goodbye, Levi." You whispered to yourself, knowing that he couldn't hear you. The clock started ticking again.