#gotta go see if someone wrote something on ao3

[lo1k-diamonds]

How to Choose a Valentine 💜

PAIRING: idol!Jungkook x You (You can also read it on AO3)

SUMMARY: Who knew the best company for Valentine's Day would be a lovely Doberman? And who knew he'd get you a Valentine? Well, sort of.

WORD COUNT: 4.3k

GENRE: fluff and light angst

RATING: Teen (for cussing and drinking)

WARNINGS: drinking, kissing and making out while drunk (consensual), hangover, lapses of memory, misunderstandings, JK handles everything well, Bam is the center of this story, the cutest baby, and maybe a cupid, should fill your 💜 with fluff but wdik

A.N. I wasn't even supposed to write this. This is what happens when I wake up at 4 AM and can't sleep. Then I think, Hmm, I read lots of lovely fics yesterday about Valentine's Day. What would I do if I wrote one? X hours later, here we are. I just roll with it at this point, it's almost a way to deal with writer's block 😅 Enjoy 💜

Masterlist | Scroll my stories on Tumblr | Schedule and WIPs

You snorted at the reel playing on your phone while your hand petted gently between the black Doberman’s ears. One girl smashed the phone camera while repeating ‘Girls don’t want flowers for Valentine’s Day’, while another immediately shyly said that yes, she’d like flowers. You scrolled; another of a guy guiding his significant other over a trail of petals; you scrolled, another of a guy explaining how he asked a girl to become his Valentine. Another, with the type of girls on Valentine’s Day and you smirked. Which one were you? Definitely not the spoiled girlfriend, you were single. Not heartbroken, you hadn’t dated for a while, or a heartbreaker. You chuckled; the only guy in your life at the moment was that sweet Doberman sleeping on your lap and you weren’t about to break his darling heart. 

The next options were single and fine with it, anti-Valentine’s Day, and Galentine’s Girl. You supposed you were fine with it but had hoped not to spend it alone, hence why you were at your best friend’s apartment. What you thought could be a day of eating and having fun together turned into dog-sitting because she needed that favor. Something along the lines of the usual sitter being ill and her needing to find someone to do it, and you were available.

You could think of more depressing ways of spending your day. You put your phone down and petted the short fur between the dog’s closed eyes, knowing he was utterly relaxed under your touch. He was the cutest thing and you had a blast walking and playing with him all day. You checked his training and he was responsive, though testy of the limits, and you made sure he understood that he had to listen to you. During your second walk, he behaved so well and was rewarded so much that you thought he wouldn’t have an appetite for dinner, but he surprised you. And now he was sleeping soundly and you didn’t want to get up, but it was time for your own dinner. Maybe you could cook something up for you and—

Your phone buzzed and you checked it; speaking of the devil.

[It’s taking longer than expected so I’ll eat here. Treat yourself sorry see you soon! 💜]

You sighed. In the end, you were going to spend it with that cutie as your Valentine. You stretched your arms and shoulders, pressing your fingers to your neck before gaining the courage to slide under the Doberman. He wasn’t pleased and adjusted his head to get back on your thigh.

“No, Bamie. I gotta eat something, come on.”

You slid again and turned on the TV as background noise before getting to the kitchen and checking your best friend’s fridge. You decided to eat a bit of everything that you could find and got set to eat on the sofa in front of the TV. Not even five minutes in, you became sort of annoyed — stupid Valentine’s Day ads. You told Bam firmly not to even think about snatching your food before you focused on streaming something instead. A corny and sweet romcom should be fun.

And you had dinner as you laughed and cried with it until a scene came up where the main character cried her sorrows over a bottle of soju and you thought, Why not? You had nothing planned the next day, at least you could have a drink.

You started with a single soju bottle, but as the episodes played and the night passed, you didn’t stop. Eventually, there were empty bottles of beer and soju and you were feeling dizzy, despite being sat down on the couch. Your last reasonable thought was to turn off the TV, the only source of light in the room, before holding on to Bam as if he were a pillow and falling asleep.

It was the sound of bottles clicking that disturbed your sleep, and your instinct was to wrap your arms closer around the fluffy dog, “Bam.”

He was wiggling his tail like crazy, and in your haze, you connected that to the bottles falling over. Not to the extra dip on the other side of the chaise longue.

Perhaps it was the fact that you heard your best friend’s voice in the distance that relaxed you, not quite registering that it disappeared after the front door closed. It was only when a different scent hit your nose that you started connecting the pieces: Bam was squeezed between you and someone else, their hand touched your arm ever so slightly while they petted him, and that musky scent was from a man.

You opened your eyes, confused by your conclusions, but not at the top of your game — a quick nap was not enough to make you sober.

“Who are you?”

Bam’s tail kept wiggling as he seemed busy facing opposite from you, looking at the person who answered you, “Who are you?”

He sounded sleepy and you couldn’t see him properly. The city lights from the window were enough but you were still too hazy.

“I asked first,” you voiced, rubbing your eyes. He didn’t seem willing to respond quickly enough, but you could feel him still petting Bam, so you sulked. You wrapped your arms around the pet harder, “Bamie is mine!”

Instantly, a new set of arms did the same and tried to steal him away, “No, he’s not! I’m his dad!”

“And I’m his mom!” The man scoffed and you raised your chin proudly. “Don’t believe me? Look.”

You let go of Bam and scanned around, seeing where you could put your feet safely in between the bottles. Then you got up and walked a bit unsteadily across the living room, standing next to the window. You could see the shape of the man all in black, including his hair, looking at you from his comfortable position with the sweet Bam happily smelling around.

He could see your expression, your baggy tee shirt falling over you and covered with cartoons, but he only cared about Bam staying in his arms. Because of course, he would.

“Bam!”

He gasped when Bam jumped from his embrace to get to you, frantically wiggling his whole body before lying on his back over your feet. He gaped as his Doberman showed his belly, happily licking your face and squirming under your belly rubs.

“Such a good boy,” you cooed, grinning from ear to ear.

Then you straightened up and snapped your fingers and Bam got up too, easily following you back on the couch and splaying himself belly up in between you and the man.

“There you go,” you murmured, scratching his belly and up his chest much to Bam’s delight.

It was when Bam squirmed that his snout ended up under the man’s chin and you saw him clearly for the first time. Then he spoke and you smiled.

You woke up with a groan, drool all over the pillow, and a headache to make you want to run for the hills. But then you sat up, confusion still scrambling your brain as you eyed the bedroom.

“Bam?”

You waited but the sound of paws scratching the floor didn't grace your ears, so you got up from bed and searched for him. You looked everywhere, calling for him every few seconds, but he didn’t come out and you couldn’t seem to find him. In fact, there was no one else at home but you, which made you befuddled — where was your best friend?

Your hangover was deadly, it was trying to pull you down with a headache the size of the world. And so you beelined to the bathroom and stripped hastily to get your head under the water and try to wake up gently.

But there was no gentleness to be found when suddenly you remember something — there was a man. Yes, but— You— kissed?

Suddenly, you were flooded with the memories of you kissing, his gentle hand cupping your jaw, your trembling breath when your tongues touched. The foreign thing that ended up being a lip ring that you felt with your tongue. The way the kiss deepened, and your legs got tangled even beyond sweet Bam lying in between you.

You were hyperventilating, “What?!”

You did what?!

Did you kiss a random man? On your best friend’s couch in the middle of the night? Or did you hallucinate him because of the alcohol?

Suddenly, it came to you — he tasted of beer, and you told him as much.

You felt him smile against your lips, “And you taste of strawberry soju.”

You remembered chuckling before kissing him again, burying your fingers into slightly overgrown strands of hair that curled around your hand.

You rubbed your face under the water; you kissed him. You were both drunk, and you couldn’t remember everything, but you pressed your lips to—

You stopped breathing.

You were feeling his shoulders and pulling him close when Bam started licking both your faces, which made you both break away and laugh.

“I have to pee,” you had said, getting up.

Before you could be mortified about having said that to a random guy, you recognized that after you went to the bathroom, you forgot about getting back to the couch. Instead, you went to bed on autopilot and fell asleep. Because you were that drunk.

Well, thankfully. Otherwise, what could have ended up happening? You were not in your right mind, you could barely remember his face aside from his eyes and lip ring. You were crazy, nuts, and shouldn’t drink that much again.

You got out of the shower and got dressed quickly with more lenient thoughts. Since only kissing happened, it was okay. No harm no foul.

Your stomach was adding to the problem, but you still decided to take headache medicine before your phone buzzed and you grabbed it.

[Meet me at work and have breakfast with me?]

You agreed and got your stuff to go to her. The subway trip was twenty minutes but it was alright at that hour. The HYBE building was in a very busy area, so to already have a direct line there was a blessing.

You gave your name at the reception to get a visitor pass and went to the floor she indicated, smiling when you saw it was a cafeteria with breakfast all around.

She met you at the door and walked you through it before sitting down and watching you eat your broth carefully.

“Lots of people need caring for this morning. Funny what Valentine’s Day does to some people,” she was amused, though her expression screamed exhaustion. “If they’re in couple they drink together, if they’re single they drink alone. There’s no escape, is there?”

You were looking down apologetically until you could talk, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me. I… raided your fridge.”

She sighed, “I know, I saw the bottles on the floor. Hence why you’re here, to have a power breakfast.”

“What happened yesterday? Why didn’t you come home?”

Your best friend heaved a deep breath, her spirit hanging on by a thread, “My artist went to a friend's dinner last night and got drunk. I got his driver to get him home but they had an accident,” she sighed. Your eyes widened in alarm, but she raised her hand swiftly, “They’re both alright. This all to say that after my meeting got lost into late hours, instead of going home, I had to go and manage that situation.”

“That sucks…” You thought back to the previous night, unsure of how to introduce the topic.

“By the way, thank you for taking care of Bam. My artist and I really appreciated it—”

She was interrupted when a spot of black dashed for you, barking the instant you took a second to acknowledge his presence. You instantly smiled despite the horrid headache the noise was making and reached to pet him.

“No, Bam! No eating!”

“It’s not the food,” your best friend pointed out jokingly, dismissing the manager nearby who tried to admonish the pet.

You were happy to give him all the cuddles that were making him go crazy and whiny; you were happy to see him again too. It instantly pulled memories from the previous night into your mind and you wondered again how to bring it up with your best friend when a voice interrupted your thoughts.

“Bam.”

Bam was licking your hand happily, yet instantly darted away at the call, and you knew before you looked up. It was him. You recognized the longer hair you had gripped, the lip ring, and the eyes. The sweet yet searing eyes.

He got near your table and bowed to you both before starting a light talk with your best friend about the schedule for the day.

And you blinked, wondering why his eyes set on your best friend’s face, or rather why the whole situation felt like a gut punch. He must have been the artist your best friend was referring to, the one she managed. You wouldn’t know, she was secretive about who it was. But the way he was ignoring you couldn’t be mistaken. He didn’t acknowledge you more than that bow, but why would he? You knew who he was.

The moment your lips grazed in a slow kiss while his hand gently supported your jaw came to mind and you blinked in astonishment. You couldn't believe it happened. Even as you remembered opening your eyes the moment he pulled away a few inches to breathe and looked straight into your eyes. It was impossible. Even if you were both drunk, how—

“Excuse me.” The three of you turned to the lady in uniform. “No pets are allowed in the cafeteria,” she bowed respectfully.

It was easy for you to get up, “I’ll take Bam to the rooftop garden.”

You grabbed his leash from the man’s hand without touching him and he let it go, a bit startled. Not that you noticed; you stepped away and called for Bam, who followed you swiftly.

Jungkook stayed behind, eyes still on you leaving with his dog until you were out of sight.

“She’ll take good care of him.”

He turned back to his manager and nodded, “I know.”

His manager was ready to use every argument she had to convince him, so she chuckled, “Funny how yesterday you were borderline going nuts over a stranger taking care of him and now you’re so relaxed.”

He nodded and looked back at where you disappeared with his Bam. You were not a stranger.

“What’s that look?” She asked, eyebrows furrowing ever so lightly.

He pressed his lips and nibbled a bit on his lip ring, but then looked back at her, “When you left me at your place… something happened.”

A mix of fear and ‘oh no’ crossed his manager's face and he sat across from her where you had sat before, ignoring your tray and half-eaten food.

“We were both drunk,” he started, expecting her not to believe him, but she just nodded. “And Bam loves her. We just—” He filled his lungs with air, pushing it back out anxiously as his tattooed hand ran across his hair, “We joked around that I was Bam’s dad and she was his mom. Then, that we were both alone, nowhere close to having a Valentine, and that maybe Bam was our cupid. Instead of meeting and making a baby, the baby— made us—” He became crimson and hid his eyes for a second, then he faced her again, “We were drunk!”

“You said that,” she deadpanned firmly. She was his manager, she needed to know things in black and white. He knew that.

“So we joked. Maybe we should get together, and we kissed.”

Her eyes doubled in size, “Oh no, you didn’t!”

“We just kissed!”

Her features hardened, “Tell me right now. Tell me the truth.”

“It’s the truth! I swear, we kissed— for a while—” His ears were becoming red, “And then she went to the bathroom and I fell asleep.” His manager’s expression had not changed a millimeter, and his eyes became pleading. “You have to believe me. You woke me up and I was alone with Bam.”

“That’s true,” she acknowledged, finally heaving a breath. “Shit, this is my fault. Leave two drunk people alone, and see what happens.”

He frowned, “I don’t just go around kissing people, even when I’m drunk.”

She faced him, “That is also true.” It seemed clear to her, so he relaxed. “So what happened? Why did you kiss her?”

He blinked with wide eyes, startled by the question. “I… I don’t know.”

He looked down, containing the urge to look back at where you had left with his pet. He didn’t even know your name, he knew nothing except that Bam loved you and you tasted sweet.

His manager waited for a proper response, for any additional information. But when none came, she knew what she had to do. She sighed, “Well. I’ll have to contact our lawyers and draft an NDA. She’s my best friend”, she confessed, rubbing her eyes for a second. “Shit,” was all she expressed before getting up and rushing out.

Jungkook pressed his lips and let her leave. He was confused about the situation, about his actions. He knew so little… Why did he think it was enough?

He put away the trays you and his manager had used while he pondered this. In a way, Bam’s heart meant everything to him. The way Jungkook loved him was unexplainable, he was the only soul in the world he could ever love in such a way. His innocence and instinct were enough, and he listened to you like he only ever listened to Jungkook himself. That shouldn’t have been enough, but it was.

And he was drunk, he sighed, leaving the room. It was his fault, he knew that. He shouldn’t kiss people irresponsibly like that, and now his manager was in a tough spot.

He decided to head for the rooftop and sort this out with you. He didn’t know what to say, but he thought maybe it didn’t have to be a big deal. You two just did it and it was… freeing. There were no inhibitions or second thoughts. It was playful and innocent, and then your lips touched. He didn’t know it would feel like that, he hadn’t thought it through. But it felt so good. It created shivers, made him hot, curious, awake, alive. He had no questions, no doubts, it was like jumping out of an airplane and freefalling. It was like the wind was guiding him to fit together with you, there was nothing in him telling him to fight it.

He got to the rooftop and immediately saw you across the garden sitting on a bench with his manager, and your best friend, next to you. Bam saw him too and raised his head and ears, but he was busy grabbing a stick that had just fallen on the floor and bringing it back to you. Jungkook could have expected him to drop everything to greet him, but Bam didn’t.

His manager was explaining something to you and your eyes were glued to the floor, expression closed except for the line between your eyebrows. Only when Bam brought you back the stick and you threw it again, did you look up. Jungkook was walking closer yet slowly, not meaning to intrude, and you had thrown the stick almost right into his path. That was why Bam happily gave it to him instead, and he crouched to pet his baby while his eyes stayed on you.

Your eyes turned away when you said something. He couldn’t hear it from there, but he knew the words out of your mouth were cold. He recognized his manager trying to have you reconsider or change your mind, but your eyebrows drew closer as you bit something back and just got up and away.

You didn’t look at him as you walked in his direction towards the exit. You planned to pass by him without a word, a mix of emotions inside you that you preferred not to address. And yet Bam was what forced you to change your mind when he lit up at your presence. He looked for a pet from your hand and you immediately halted, unable to punish that sweet pup because of his dad.

Still, the words slipped the seam of your lips somewhat bitterly, “Are you a baby?”

“What?” He blinked, eyes wide as he straightened up.

“You kiss someone and your first instinct is to threaten them with NDAs?” You were frowning with a hint of contempt, but your eyes were glistening. You continued before he could say anything, “I won’t sign it. I don’t care what any of you think, this isn’t normal. You regret it? Fine, but then act like a fucking adult.”

He was at a loss for words and movement behind you had him glancing, and so you turned. Your best friend had a serious expression on her, something you imagined was her work persona. Well, too bad you had no sympathy for it.

“No,” you raised a hand before she could say something. “You’re doing your job, and I’m standing up for my principles. I’ll go to your place and get my stuff.”

You passed by him at a hastened pace and the second he turned to say, “Wait!”, the heavy glass door was already closing behind you, muffling every trace of a sound.

He turned to his manager then, seeing the tiredness, sadness, and frustration all over her face as she heaved a deep sigh and hid the tears in her eyes.

His lips twitched with a question, but she spoke instead, “She thinks I’m choosing my job over her.”

“But you’re not,” he instantly said, confused. “This isn’t necessary.”

She sighed, “I’ll deal with this, ok? Get to your shoot.”

She also passed by him quickly inside and Jungkook looked at Bam, who was lying on the floor chewing on the stick with a hard focus. Why were they so eager to get anything done without a proper conversation?

He took Bam with him across HYBE and got inside the car with other managers and assistants. They were waiting for him to continue his schedule, chatting about Bam. It would be difficult to have him on the set, but they’d contact a sitter on the way—

“Take me to Manager Kim’s place.”

“What?” His manager frowned, “Now?”

“Yes, now. To drop off Bam,” he offered, though he knew it was a lie. His manager agreed though because he knew Bam had stayed there the previous day, and being late to the shoot was fixed with a simple call giving them a warning and an apology.

Jungkook left the car first, saying that he’d go and come back quickly, and the team agreed, to his relief. He was upstairs in a beat in front of the right door, yet before he could ring the doorbell, the door opened in front of him and something crashed into his chest. His heart jumped and his hands darted to support your arms as you recoiled back, and then you looked up at him. Such beautiful big and expressive eyes, and he knew then he would have wanted to kiss you anyway.

You broke away from his arms and moved to go around him. He didn’t miss your frown, but he didn’t hesitate, “Can we talk?”

“I’m not going to sign it,” you insisted as you turned to him, adjusting your backpack over your shoulder. “But you don’t need to worry, that doesn’t mean I’ll talk about it. I’m not like that.”

He nodded once, “Okay. But that’s not what I want to talk about.”

You paused, “Oh.”

Your features smoothed in confusion and he was happy he caught your attention, “Can we go inside?”

You shrugged but walked back inside. You petted Bam gently between his ears then put your backpack down on the floor. By then, Jungkook had released Bam’s leash and closed the door. The sweet baby darted to the water bowl and your lips curved before his dad drew your attention away.

“I don’t regret it,” he said, and your eyebrows jumped. “You keep saying that, but I don’t. And I didn’t ask Manager Kim to do this either, I suppose it’s standard procedure or something. I wouldn’t know. But she’s just doing her best because she feels responsible.”

You were skeptical, “You wouldn’t know?”

“No.”

You found that hard to believe, but you didn’t insist. It had nothing to do with you. “Why would she feel responsible?”

“Because she’s in charge of me, I guess. Managers tend to feel like that even when we are, in fact, not babies.”

Your lips twitched at his choice of words.

“So don’t get mad at her. After this, I’m going to tell her to stop it. I don’t want this NDA thing, and neither do you. It’s not necessary,” he sighed. He had told his manager that before, but maybe if he insisted, she’d get it.

You nodded.

“And thank you for looking after Bam,” he finished with a smile. The Doberman had jumped on the couch a bit carelessly, but he was calm. “He’s usually nervous around strangers, but he loves you. You might really be his Mom for all he cares,” he smirked, watching as you stepped to the side to pet Bam. “And I wouldn’t… separate him from a person he loves. If you’d like to see him again.”

Your cheeks instantly caught fire as you looked at him. He held your gaze calmly, the only hint of nervousness in his fingers fidgeting. You didn’t think you were misunderstanding him, then.

“I can make time.”

He smiled, “Good.”

[ghostsvacuumcleaner]

You came — you called. | Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader

credits for the header - ghost's pic by the very talented @ave661 ✦ Word count: 2.2k ✦ Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader ✦ Summary: After being abused by your current date, in need of comfort, you call your ex-boyfriend and recurring fling, Simon, to talk. ✦ TW and general warnings: SFW, some kisses here and there but no smut, angst, you guys are in a complicated situationship, fluff, sensitive content (domestic violence) ✦ AO3 | Masterlist edit: I wrote a part 2 in case you're interested <3

A/N: I really need to finish my already started requests, really do but inspiration ONLY gets to me when I'm randomly existing and then a random prompt comes in mind and arghhh gotta write 😭 but I promise - if anyone reading this sent me a request, know I've started it already and I WILL finish. also, thinking really a lot about making a part 2 for this piece and making it smutty. pls let me know if anyone's interested! anyways, not proof read, hope y'all enjoy, x

━━━━━━━━━ ⟡ ━━━━━━━━━

It’s the same place as the last time you saw him. Ironic, maybe. You still smoke the same cigarettes he offered to you once in a promise it would help you calm down from your anxiety; it did. It did a little too much. You still wear that same necklace you refused to get rid off even after you dumped him, after you promised you’d never see him again, never talk to him again. God, hope he doesn’t get mad at that.

Truth is you’ve been failing at that for quite some time. You’ve been seeing him way more than it’s necessary, but contrary to how things used to be before, now every moment with him is a single time that ceases to exist once you get home. He texts; you ignore. He doesn’t text anymore till the next time he misses you. You ignore it till the next time you miss him. This time isn’t much different, only you have a bit more of a reason to be here, unsure if he’ll show up, smoking this damned red Marlboro and feeling like shit. Like absolute shit.

You exhale the smoke, your hair tied back in a ponytail through the cap gap. Hiding yourself.

His big broad figure fills the door in, and he comes inside. To your big surprise, he decided lastly to come; Simon looks at you with a bitter look on his face, his dirty blonde hair trimmed, his beard done, wearing one of his thousand black tight t-shirts and a pair of jeans. He looks the same as ever.

“You came.” You say, surprised as he pulls the chair back and takes the seat in front of yours. 

“You called.” He replies simply, his body relaxing spaciously in the chair with his arms crossed over his chest. 

“Yeah, I did.” You let out some more smoke before discarding your cigarette on the ashtray. “But I thought you were still mad at me.” 

He looks at you in silence for a couple seconds, and scoffs.

“And that never stopped you from calling, did it?” He snorts impatiently. “Did something actually happen or are you just lonely and needing someone to help you fall asleep?” You feel derision in his attitude and his voice is dripping with venom and bitterness.

You close your eyes. Can’t blame him, can you? You had your own good reasons to break up with him, although stupidly, without thinking twice - without thinking that you’d end up missing him. Trying to find him in all the wrong places, wrong guys. 

“Well go on, Simon, what else do you still have to tell me?” You mimic him, crossing your arms and your face a little twisted in irritation facing him. “I was single, I still am. I had the right to be with someone else.” 

“I never blamed you for that. I never fucking blamed you.” Simon wipes his mouth with his hand, his ever icy expression breaking into frustration the second you open your mouth again.

“You are blaming me. You-”

“I fucking am not. I’m angry at the poor fucking choice you did. Getting rid of me for that fucker? You’re making a joke out of yourself, even for someone like me that’s fucking downgrading.” He snaps, regretting it the second later and squeezing his eyes for a moment. 

You remain silent. He’s right. He’s absolutely right. 

You stare into the distance of the window by your side, silent - embarrassed, regretful. Your hands together over your lap and your silence put together make him raise his head at you once again, in a sigh.

“I shouldn’t be here. Our conversations won’t ever end in anything good but me taking you to bed, if that’s what you want then I’ll gladly do it without all the trouble.” He states. You tremulously raise your eyebrows and your lips curl in a small hurt smile. 

Ouch.

You know he said it to hurt you. You know he’s angry, he’s hitting all the right buttons to get under your skin, he can’t help it. He can’t help but to be a bastard sometimes, he never learnt different.

Your eye stare down your own hands, you feel your lips tremble and the lump in your throat gets bigger each second. It's hard to hold back the tears, but for your dignity, you try. There's no less brutal way to admit something like that, so you vomit the words all at once.

“He hit me, Simon.”

His eyes open, the pupils slowly dilate like those of a shark that has just tasted blood for the first time.

Simon has blood on his hands. From too many people, more than you could count. And even if that's his job, never in all those hard years with him - you swore - had you ever seen him so pissed off.

The veins in his temples stood out and he swallowed bitterly, his mind empty; If he wasn't an extremely restrained man, then he would have gotten up and taken action right now. A thoughtless attitude that he might later regret - maybe.

“Tell me his address.” He snaps, his blood boiling enough for you to almost feel the heat increasing in his flesh. 

“Simon, no.” You immediately cut him off, shaking your head, almost crying at this point. "That's not what I called you for, I don't want you to hurt anyone. I broke up with him, I don't have anything to do with that son of a bitch anymore, I just-"

He interrupts you with a gesture and claps his hands to his face. He brushes his own skin roughly, as a self-reminder that if he gives in to his own anger, he'll let you down.

When he makes room for his eyes through his hands again and sees your reddened

face, tears streaming down your cheeks - he dies inside. 

He promised he’d always be there for you. He promised he’d never let you down, he’d always protect you, he’d kill for you. He said it plenty of times and you were completely aware that it was true. 

He couldn’t possibly let you down.

“No, please, I can’t- I just can’t when you cry.” He mutters, getting up from his seat and offering his hand. “You come with me. Please?”

━ ⟡ ━

The hot steaming water falls over your head, sweeping your tears as you hug your legs. Simon's fingertips brush calmly your back, he contours the bruises on your lower half like he's grieving. The silence fills in the bathroom if not for the sound of water dripping on your head. He pours some water on your back to soothe your pain - even if you're not feeling any at this point. 

"Why did you not call me before?" He asks, with painful confusion in his raspy voice. His hands are shaking and you know it's pure anger and his own incapability of holding himself back when it comes to feeling anger. You sigh, tired. 

"I don't know. I felt like I'd be unfair to you." You try to explain, your hands caressing your shins while the water runs through your skin. "And because I didn't want to get you in this state." 

His eyes narrow as he stares at you, and you shrug in response. It's clear to him why you don't like to get him stressed - he could never hurt you, but he was a danger to others.

 He waves his hands to shake off the water and stands up, grabbing and opening a clean towel for you.

You stand up, your eyes don't dare leaving his. He silently admires you, although his mind can't think much more than how guilty he feels for letting this happen to you - even though there was nothing he could do about it. You dry your feets on the mat and turn your back so he can wrap you in the towel, and he does so. 

Simon calmly brushes the towel against your shoulders, drying a bit of the water that drips from your whole body and once he’s done wrapping you in the towel, he places his hands on your back and leads you to his room.

His smell is everywhere around and what used to be intoxicating and lustful for you, is now soothing and quiet. You sit on the edge of his bed, silence seeming to be now a whole conversation between the two of you.

Your hand reaches for his and places it on your cheek. You look up at him with kitty eyes, your thumb circles the skin on the back of his hand till it finds the scar you were looking for – one of his oldest ones, according to himself. You close your eyes and snuggle into his hand, giving it a light, calming kiss.

He caresses your cheek and moves your hair from your face.

“I’ll get you some fresh clothes.” He says in a whisper. You nod, and he comes back moments later with a clean shirt of his. You tug it in your neck and quickly put it on letting the fabric run free on your body, loose. 

He starts removing rubbish from his bedside table – an ashtray, an empty can of energy drink, a gun. As you notice he seems to be trying to empty the room for you, you speak out.

"Wait, where are you going?" 

"I'll be in the living room if you need me for anything." He says simply. Before he can leave the room, you stop him by wrapping your hand on his arm. The sudden motion makes him turn around to face you, his dark eyes gazing at yours and seeming already aware of what comes next – a protest. 

"Simon." You use a warning tone, and he closes his eyes. 

"You don't want to have me around now, kitten. I'm far from calm…" He argues, calmly looking down at you now. The proximity burns you, he's too close. 

"I'm not scared." You mewl, your hands on his tough chest, he doesn't move a muscle. Your hands start trailing up to his neck, and you get on your tiptoes to wrap your arms better around him; Simon closes his eyes, drunk by the overwhelming feeling of having you so close to him. He misses you. 

One of his hands holds your wrist before you manage to curl up on his neck, and the other one gently holds on your waist. He bends down enough so he can reach your tiny self. He gives you what you want - his lips slowly catch yours in a slow, calm kiss; the warmth of his lips against yours is medicine to you – soothes all of your pain, eases all of your anxiety. He squeezes on your waist and pulls back once he starts feeling heaty and his breath starts to become uncontrolled, needy. He breaths against your lips, his eyes barely closed and his breath catching on his throat like panting. 

You stare at his lips before going back to his eyes. 

"Stop." He snarls, raising his head a bit, avoiding your face and the closeness you impose on him now. It feels wrong. You need space.

You close your eyes, you understand. It feels wrong. 

After all of this time of failed attempts to let go, to sound nonchalant and be away from each other – after all the fails and the sex, devoid of feeling type of sex, rough, delicious but raw sex, he wants to fuck you straight. He doesn't want to be angry, he wants to take you and make love to you. 

You understand. Feels wrong.

"Will you be fine here? You need to rest and I need to take a walk, clear my head." He mutters, avoiding your eyes for the sake of restraining himself. You nod. 

"I'll be alright. You'll come back, right?" You ask, looking at him - looking for his eyes. He stands back from you and nods. 

"Of course." He assures you, before caressing your hair slowly and giving you a calm kiss on the forehead. "Rest. Do not stay awake waiting for me, hear me?" He snarls, grabbing his keys and a hoodie of his, tucking it in and giving you space. 

You sit in his bed and nods, watching him leave by the room door and close it behind himself. Now alone, you close your eyes exhausted by the lack of sleep you've been having for these past few days; it doesn't take you long to fall asleep, surrounded by comfortable pillows that smell like his perfume – woody and whiskey. 

Walking in the streets, with his hands digging in his hoodie's pocket and tough stomps, Simon's face lit up by the light emanating from the street lamps. His body swings slightly to the weight of his steps, and he breathes heavily. 

After several minutes – more than he probably told you he'd take, he stops in front of a very familiar residence. You should know it wouldn't be any trouble for him to find your abuser's house. 

He took a familiar piece of cloth out of his pocket, it had been time since he last wore it. Now seemed like a good moment. A balaclava, full face mask – handmade, with a skull painted on. Simon hugs you and kisses your scars; Ghost wants revenge. 

[pompompurinwrites]

Yandere!Idia Shroud x Crossdressing!Fem!Reader (smut)

I wrote this on one of my Ao3 accounts a while ago but decided to move it to my Tumblr as well!!

TW: Yandere-ish, smut

Word count: 1.9k

"Yeah Grim I know what Crewel said but do I really gotta take it all, it makes me so sick." Grim glances over at you while you sip hesitantly on the vile. "Maybe for one day you can try drinking less, but what if you start to turn all girly?" Shaking your head you drink only half the vile, close it up and throw it on your bed. "We will just have to see what will happen." Grabbing your bag you sling it over your shoulder and give Grim a quick kiss on his forehead. He has been sick for a few days and again won't be able to go to school. Riddle told you it was some magical sickness that he must have gotten from eating things he wasn't supposed to. So this means It's another day you gotta survive by yourself without anyone finding out about your secret.

Making your way out of Ramshackle you feel a lot better and not as tired or sick like when you usually take all of the potion. You meet with friends and go to your classes.

(time skip)

While on your way to your last class you start to feel funny. A student who you talk with frequently looked at you very odd,"Hey Y/n, are you feeling alright?" You look at him surprised, "Yes, why?" the boy walks a little closer and pulls out his phone to show you yourself. "Your eyes look bigger and your cheeks seem more flushed." Looking at yourself in the phones mirror you seem more girly. "Oh maybe Grim's cold got to me too?" With that being said you rush off before the boy can even open his mouth. Panicking you start to search for somewhere to go since you can't walk to ramshackle and risk someone seeing you like this.

Lucky you make it to an empty classroom, before anyone can see you, or so you thought. You pull out your phone and look at your now changed features, finally the potion has worn off. You are standing there in a girly form and no longer can show your face to other students. suddenly you hear a voice behind you, "Y-Y/N??" Freezing in your tracks you don't turn around and instead wave Idia off. "Y/n you can't even speak to me?" You continue to look in the opposite direction of Idia and try to brush him off still. "Y/N, are you alright?" He is getting more nervous with your behavior.

You're his favorite person in the whole world, right next to Ortho, why are you being this way to him? You're everything we could ever want and more. You're pretty much the love of his life. He needs you to speak to him and he needs to know you're ok. "Please Y/n." You take in the way his voice is so desperate. Turning towards him, "Idia can you keep a secret?" Voice now shaky and more high pitched than it was before. "Y-yes, for you I can!" He takes a hesitant step and so do you. This continues on until you both are close enough to hear each other breathing.

Hesitantly you look at Idia's face, "I know this is is really weird and-" Idia grabs you by your arms. "You're a girl?" Idia was over joyed with this fact. Not only did he think you were a cute boy, but you're really an adorable girl." You watched as Idia's face was left so blank and empty. This made you worried. Your hands shoot up to hold onto Idia's hands that held onto your shoulders. "Please don't tell anyone anything!" small tears start to well up in your eyes. Idia takes this chance to move a hand up to brush your tears away. "Oh Y/n I won't tell anyone anything, I swear." This time when you looked at his face it had a grin. "Why are you looking at me like that Idia?"

He Moves his hands away from your form and instead he plays with his hands nervously. "Well Y/n I want something in return." Scrunching your brows together you think about what you can offer him. "Y/n you don't get to pick what to give me, I do." He takes his hands and raises them to your waist. "I mean after all I am the one who is going to keep your secret that you're really a girl." swallowing nervously you move to place your hands where he held you, "Idia don't I get a little bit of a say, I mean it's my secret." attempting to remove his hands came to no avail as he gripped you harder. "Please Y/n I have waiting for this moment since I laid my eyes on you." He starts to lean into you, forcing you to move back towards a desk.

Your legs hit the desk and you stumble a little back onto it. "Idia you really have?" He just confessed to you that even before he found out you were a girl he wanted you as a boy. How romantic? "Yes, yes Y/n, I have needed you for so long, man or woman." You gain the courage to grab him by the back of his neck and pull him close for a kiss. sticking your tongue in his mouth and exploring it and all its crevices. He sure was an awful kisser but the enthusiasm he was showing really helped him out. Starting to become out of breath you both pull away. Saliva still connecting you both by a thin thread. His look was all hazy and lust filled just as much as your own. It was really turning you on and by the looks of it, Idia as well.

Slipping your hand away from the back of his neck you move it down to his member. Stroking him off through his uniform pants. He lets out a whimper, "More, please, give me more." listening to his pleas you unzip his uniform pants and pull down his boxers to show his leaking rod. To be honest you thought he would be a bit smaller but he was more than large, like extra large. Using both of your hands you start to jerk him off. seconds go by and he is already whimpering into your ear and telling you to go faster. Of course you listen and go faster. "I can't take it, I'm sorry." He replies as he releases himself onto your hands. Lifting your hands to your mouth, you lick off all of his cum.

"Idia I want more of you." Idia nods his head and trades places with you. While he leans on the desk you take your place on the floor in front of him. Wasting no time in swirling your tongue around the tip of his member. He continues to leave you with little praises about how good you are and how beautiful you look. This made you want him even more. completely taking his cock into you mouth, well trying to at least. With his size it is very difficult to full get it in so you stick to stroking off what what couldn't make it in. sucking and slurping sounds fill the empty classroom. Idia started to breathe a bit heavier. You could tell he was almost up, so you stop.

"N-no, don't stop now, just a little bit more." He goes to grab your head to push you back but you move away and get up off your knees. Grabbing at your belt and then slipping your pants off, leaving you in your underwear. Idia watches intently as you do so. Moving your hands up you peal off your NRC jacket but leave your shirt on same as Idia. He gently grabs you by your arms and pulls you in for another kiss, this one was a lot sweeter than the one you insinuated. such soft and loving moment shared between you two. "Sit on the desk." His voice is a bit more demanding. A big jump from the weak whimpers he was serenading you with before.

You oblige and position yourself sitting on the desk. Quickly he pulls you by your legs so you are laying down instead of just sitting. Never in your life have you thought you would see Idia with a more dominate side. And to top it off the way he looks at you with such a lust hunger stare really makes you wonder what his real personality even is. "What are you thinking about?" His question snaps you out of your thoughts, "Just you." Those two words are enough to make idia melt, "You really are perfect for me." He takes one of his hands are caresses your face, then takes his other and slips it under your undergarments. teasing your soaking wet entrance with his delicate touch.

He never had any experience with this kind of thing but Leona and Vil have told him and thing or two in case he would ever get into a situation like this. He also spends a good chunk of his time playing porn related video games so what he knows is whatever the hell is in those games.

Continuously he moves his fingers up and down making you the one whimpering now. Circling around your bud, around and around. He only does this for a few minutes before pushing a finger into you. Moving it in and out at a slow pace. He watches as you go to grip his hand, "Put another." He listens to you just as you listened to him and sticks another finger inside. Moving them along your squishy insides. Your moans and whimpers are what keep him going. They are going to be another reason why he needs to have you and always be with you. Forever and always. Picking up the pace he watches as small beads of sweat litter your forehead and roll down your face. "Idia I can't, I feel like I-" Before you can finish you cum all over his hand.

"I love you so much Y/n." He speaks before putting his fingers into his mouth and licking each and every digit that has your essence on it clean. His words caught you off guard for a second, "I love you too Idia." Now you were both ready for the main course.

Idia gently goes to hold your waist while you grab at his arms. Lining his tip with your entrance he pushes himself in. Your walls collapse onto him and he wonders if he can keep going especially if you feel this good. Slowly he starts to move his hips against yours and moans slip out of his mouth. "Idia faster-" Cutting you off he quickens his speed. Completely slamming into you and making you see stars. Your moans and whimpers are filling the classroom once again and so are Idia's. To think he is really having sex with the love of his life, this must be a dream.

But it's not, she is very much real. Everything about you and Idia were real.

He moves his hands from your waist to hold your face, "Y-y/n, I don't think I can hold on much longer." You grab onto his hands that are placed on your face, "M-me neither." You both are starting to become out of breath and coming to your end. Idia takes his hands off your face and hold onto your waist again, pulling himself in and out quickly. Before he can even make it fully out of you he cums inside your womanhood. Not long after you finish as well. Both of you are now fully finished and trying to get as much air as you can.

"Idia, you won't tell now will you?"

"No Y/n, never."

[justagalwhowrites]

New in Town - Ch. 8: First Thanksgiving

Sarah comes to town for the holidays. A continuation of New in Town chapters 1-7 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Best Friend's Dad!Joel Miller x Female Reader

CW: No use of Y/N. Age gap (reader is 35 Joel is 47, not a focus of the fic). Minors DNI, 18+ only

Length: 6.7k

AO3 | First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

“You’re sure?” Joel asked, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he held you close. 

“I’m sure,” you smiled a little and he sighed, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

“Not lookin’ forward to not seeing you for a few days,” he said, his skin warm and soft on yours. 

“I’ll be around all the time,” you laughed a little. “I’m coming over for dinner and for the Christmas stuff Sarah has planned…” 

“Not the same,” he replied. “Can’t just touch you whenever I want, kiss you whenever I want… You sure you want to wait to tell her until after the holidays?”

Joel’s face was drawn and concerned and, if it didn’t make him look so sad it would have made you laugh. It was just a few days. A few days of not being together all the time, a few days of sleeping apart, a few days where the tangle your separate lives had knotted themselves into had to untwist and exist independent of each other. 

Joel was, apparently, not a fan. 

In his defense, neither were you. Though you were taking it better than Joel. But you didn’t want to change how things had been going any more than he did. In the few weeks since the football game, you’d practically been living together. It just wasn’t at any house in particular. Joel had a drawer and a razor at your place, you had a dedicated corner of the closet and a whole separate set of skin care products and makeup at his. You’d started doing everything together, not able to really get enough of each other, the only time you were really apart when the two of you were at work. 

The last hurdle your relationship had was talking to Sarah, something Joel was far more ready to do than you were. 

You’d had one good scare right after the football game while snuggling with Joel the next morning. You were reading the news on your phone and sipping coffee he’d been nice enough to get out of bed to make after fucking you silly. You hadn’t even put underwear back on, considering asking for round two by just sucking him off when you got a text from Sarah. 

“Have fun at the Longhorns game?” She wrote. 

“Oh shit!” You yelped, sitting bolt upright so fast your coffee sloshed out of your mug and onto your comforter. 

“You alright?” Joel frowned as you set your mug on your bedside table with a little too much force.

“Sarah knows,” you looked at him, eyes wide, turning the phone so he could see the text. “She knows, Joel. She knows and she found out from someone who isn’t us, oh my GOD…” 

He took the phone, his hand in the middle of your back as you quietly panicked. 

“She just knows you were at the game,” Joel said, handing you your phone and kissing your bare shoulder. “She could have just texted Tommy and maybe he mentioned you.” 

You took the phone back and read the message two more times. 

“Right,” you said, your heart still racing. “Right, OK…” 

You texted back. 

“It was a blast! How’d you know I was there? Haven’t talked to you in a few days. How’s Tinder boy btw?” 

You gnawed on your lower lip while you waited for the text back, your stomach in knots. 

“Saw you on TV!” She replied. “Or my friend from HS did because she recognized my dad. She got excited and texted to tell me with photo evidence that he was famous now lol” 

You suddenly remembered the kiss cam. Your stomach sank.

“Can I see the pic?” You sent back. “Gotta see me as a TV star!” 

It took a minute but she texted you a picture of a zoomed in crowd shot. You were looking intently up at Joel as he gestured to something down at the field with a serious look on his face. It was probably while he was explaining the game to you, before you’d blurted out that you were in love with him. It would be perfectly platonic if you didn’t read into the look on your face. 

“Oh thank fuck,” you flopped back down in the bed, leaning against Joel. “It’s just this, sounds like she didn’t watch the game. We’re safe.” 

That had been the big push behind figuring out how to tell Sarah. You both agreed it had to happen and sooner rather than later. You loved Joel too much to give him up and he seemed to feel the same about you. 

It had been Joel who proposed telling her over Thanksgiving. She was coming to town and he wanted to talk with her in person. Get her on board and then have you over as his girlfriend for the holiday. 

You’d vetoed that. 

Not that you didn’t want to tell Sarah. Or want Sarah to know, at least. She was your best friend and you weren’t good at all the sneaking around this relationship apparently required. You wanted her to know and be happy and excited for you and to be able to tell her how fucking happy you were. 

But you’d always envied Sarah’s relationship with her father and she’d told you just how important the holidays had been for the two of them. 

“My dad always really tried,” she’d told you once, when Christmas decor had started going up around Seattle and she was feeling nostalgic. “He made it all magic, you know? Now that I’m all grown up and shit, I know money was tight but he always made sure I had the perfect Christmas. He learned to cook a turkey so we’d have actual Thanksgiving, he always watched the parade with me and made those cinnamon rolls that came in a can and we always decorated for Christmas the day after then watched a bunch of Christmas movies. I hate to think of what he had to give up to make sure I got what I wanted under the tree but I know he must have.” 

It was the kind of relationship you’d dreamed of having with your parents when you were a girl. Not even the part where they scrimped and saved to give you whatever toy you were clamoring for at the time, just the part where they cared enough to make the world seem like there was magic in it. Things like ornaments and cinnamon rolls and watching Christmas movies with purpose instead just because they were on TV and your aunt was bored with channel scrolling. Now that you were an adult, you thought it was probably because your mom couldn’t afford anything that she just pretended Christmas wasn’t happening. The fact that there were no gifts was less noticeable when there was no sign they should be there at all. 

But regardless of the reason, it left a hollow place in you where you felt like some sort of fond memory - some echo of the childish notion that the world was soft and good - should be. 

You didn’t want to disrupt that for Sarah and Joel. 

If you waited until after the new year to tell her, you figured that would give her some time to move past it before it would be too disruptive to their lives. Because of course she would need to move past it. 

Sarah had every reason to be upset about this. Regardless of the fact that you were in love with Joel and he with you, that you made each other happy, that you were starting to hope that you’d get to love him forever, you’d still gone behind her back and fucked her dad. The person she loved most and was closest to. It was a betrayal of trust you weren’t sure she could move past. You wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t. 

Your biggest concern with it all was how she would feel toward Joel after she found out. The fact that he wasn’t all that much older than you - just 12 years, about the age you tended to seek out, anyway - you didn’t think that was going to matter much to Sarah. She was your friend and he was her father and you were terrified that she might think less of him for going after a woman who was her peer. 

If your relationship caused a rift between Sarah and Joel, you weren’t sure you’d ever forgive yourself for that. Of course you wanted to keep Sarah in your life, too. You didn’t have many friends, losing most of them when you moved because adult life wasn’t exactly conducive to maintaining dozens of long distances friendships and you stayed off social media to dodge your father. But Sarah was different. You’d spent more time with her when you were in Seattle than you had with other friends in other places. You’d kept in touch more since you left. She’d become interwoven into the fabric of your life in ways other people never really had and you treasured that. 

But if she hated your relationship with Joel so much that she needed to cut one of you out, you’d let her and Joel go before she even needed to make the call. There was no way you’d let yourself be the thing that ruined the father-daughter relationship you’d wished you had your entire life. 

No, it was worth spending the holidays on your own if it meant preserving Sarah and Joel’s relationship and giving them both a chance to have another year of the traditions that meant so much to them both. 

While you thought just avoiding Joel while Sarah was in town was the smart thing to do - you’d gotten too in the habit of touching him and kissing him all the time - Sarah hadn’t left you much choice. She’d all but begged you to come to Thanksgiving on your most recent FaceTime, her eyes looking almost suspiciously wide when she did. 

“I know you don’t have plans,” she said when you’d tried to say no. 

“Maybe I already have dinner reservations,” you said. “Maybe I have a boyfriend I’m going to go with.” 

She scoffed. 

“I know you,” she rolled her eyes. “If you had one of those you’d have gushed to me about his dick already.” 

You almost choked on your coffee at that. The only reason you weren’t with your boyfriend that second was because you were going to his place that night and he was still at work. And you certainly weren’t about to talk about his dick with Sarah. 

“I just don’t want to crash in on family time,” you said once you stopped coughing and had wiped your phone screen clean of the splatter. “I know you’ve got your traditions and shit, I don’t want to get in the way of that.” 

“It’s just my dad and Tommy and Maria,” she rolled her eyes. “Not like it’s tea with the queen. And you’ve hung out with them already. Come on! I want to see you! And you should have a nice Thanksgiving, too! Don’t make me beg, I’m really obnoxious when I beg.” 

“Fine,” you sighed, flopping back against the couch a little harder than you should. “I’ll come to Thanksgiving…” 

“Yes!” She punched the air in victory. “Believe it or not, my dad makes a good turkey. And you’re going to love the Christmas movie marathon, we always eat popcorn mixed with the holiday chocolate…” 

You frowned. 

“I said I was coming for Thanksgiving,” you said. “Not the whole weekend.” 

“Black Friday is part of Thanksgiving,” she waved you off. “You eat leftovers all day, it’s basically the same thing. And you already said yes so you’re coming. I can’t wait!” 

Sarah’s plane was landing in two hours. Well, just under. One hour and 57 minutes but who was counting. You were soaking up the last of your time with Joel before the holiday started. You’d fully intended on doing something besides fuck him but that had quickly fallen through, the two of you ending up in bed before you could even fully discuss where to possibly get food.

“I know you’re worried,” he said softly and you sighed. 

“She has every reason to be upset about this,” you said. “And I’d rather the issues come up when there’s time and space to work on them, not during the holidays where she might feel like she has to get over stuff too soon and ends up resenting it.” 

And there was, of course, the things you weren’t saying to Joel. What if she didn’t get over it? What if she gave Joel an ultimatum: you or her? 

Of course he would choose her. He wouldn’t even hesitate to choose her. And he should choose her, you wouldn’t even try to fight him on it. If he called and told you it was over because of Sarah, you’d be heartbroken but you’d understand it and then you’d be without them both. 

What if it didn’t come to that but things got so rocky between the two of them that he made the call that it had to end? Joel was nothing if not an amazing father, he would always do whatever he could to do right by his daughter and that would include cutting you out of his life. 

You weren’t ready to face that possibility. You wanted a chance to brace yourself for it first, have some more time with Joel first. Something you could hang on to if you were stuck starting from scratch and had to download the stupid dating apps again. 

“She’s going to be happy for us,” he brushed your hair back, his large hand warm and comforting against you. “She might be freaked out at first but she’ll be happy that we’re happy.” 

“And you know this because the large sample size of ex girlfriends you’ve introduced to her?” You asked, brows raised. He glared at you. You knew he’d never had anyone he’d even considered introducing to Sarah before. “Yeah. Exactly.” 

“It’s going to be OK,” he said, kissing you again. “Promise it is. But we’ll wait if that’s really what you want to do. This is about us, not gonna do anything without you.” 

You walked Joel to his truck when he had to leave for the airport, wrapping your arms around his waist and breathing him in as he held onto you. 

“See you in a day and a half,” he said, kissing your forehead. “Miss you already.” 

“Miss you too,” you said, separating from him reluctantly. You stood in front of your building, watching his truck drive away until he was out of sight. 

***

The turkey was in the oven, Maria had volunteered pies and sweet potatoes, you were bringing rolls and green bean casserole, there were a few hours before potatoes needed to go on the stove. Joel was pretty sure he had things under control. 

He poured himself a cup of coffee and added the Bailey’s Sarah had insisted on picking up the day before before putting a few cinnamon rolls on a plate and joining her in the living room. 

“Remember how much SpongeBob annoyed you when I was a kid?” She asked, holding up the other side of the blanket she was curled up under for Joel to join her. 

“Hard to forget,” Joel smiled a little, sitting beside her. She draped the blanket over his legs before getting her spiked coffee off the side table. “God, that voice was so annoying.” 

“He’s been a balloon in the parade almost 20 years now apparently,” she said, smiling a little smugly as she nodded toward the giant yellow sponge on TV. “Looks like you’re the odd man out.” 

He smiled broader. 

“Used to that,” he replied. 

Joel loved having Sarah home, especially this time of year. It felt right, like the two of them were always supposed to be together. They didn’t need to even be doing anything special, just sitting at home and watching TV or having dinner. It seemed like they were meant to live their lives side by side, sharing in all the highs and lows. 

But, for the first time around the holidays, it felt like something was missing. Joel just kept picturing you there, where you were supposed to be. He reached over and searched for your soft warmth when he woke up, disoriented when he didn’t find you. He almost made you a cup of coffee this morning on autopilot, some part of him knowing that you were supposed to be there, too. You were supposed to be there the night before when he and Sarah made the annual pre-Thanksgiving fridge clean out meal, finding a way to eat through anything that might disrupt the placement of feast leftovers the next day as the turkey finished defrosting in the sink. You were supposed to be there laughing at the stand up comedy Sarah put on while they cut up carrots and celery and onions for stuffing before going to bed. You were definitely supposed to be there watching the parade, tucked against his side and drinking coffee while the balloons and the floats went by. 

He loved you so much he wanted you in every part of his life. You were supposed to be there, making all of it better. 

“Everything OK?” Sarah frowned as the parade went to commercial. 

“Course,” Joel said, putting his arm over the back of the couch so she could lean against him. She’d know soon. Then you’d be here, too. “You’re here.” 

You came over a little early. Sarah was in her room getting ready when the doorbell rang and Joel all but raced to answer it. Your hands were full and he took a dish from you before pulling you in for a hug and a kiss, your eyes wide as he did. 

“Sarah’s getting dressed,” he said quickly before giving you another kiss. “Gettin’ it in while I can.” 

“Oh, well in that case,” you smiled against him, kissing him deeply before stepping back. “I do need to use the oven. Or at least the toaster oven. Which is why I came by early.” 

“Oh, is that why?” He teased, leading you inside and closing the door behind you. 

“Yes,” you said, following him to the kitchen. “No ulterior motives at all. Just wanted to make sure things could work logistically, I’m nice like that. Very weird ringing the doorbell, by the way. Don’t think I like it.” 

“Know I don’t,” he said, putting the dish on the counter. You set the other one next to it. “Gave you a key for a reason. Like you just comin’ in like you live here.” 

“Oh yeah?” You bit your lip and backed into the counter before you took a handful of Joel’s button down shirt and tugged him against you. Your eyes were practically shining and you looked so fucking pretty, your hair all done up, a soft velvet dress that hugged your curves that Joel desperately wanted to shove up around your waist so he could fuck you deep. “Like me in your house?” 

“My house,” he kissed you and pressed himself against you. “My bed.” He kissed you again. “My whole damn life.” 

“Was that the door bell?” Sarah yelled from her room and you practically shoved Joel back from you. He leaned in and gave you a final kiss to the temple. 

“Just me!” You yelled back. “The best friend you insisted on having around, don’t rush on my account!” 

Joel smiled a little. Everything was going to work out. One day, you’d be living here and Sarah would come over and he’d smile while the the two of you talked like the old friends you were. It was all going to be OK. He could feel it. 

Sarah shrieked as she hurtled into the kitchen, sliding on the tile and slamming into you as you laughed, hugging her. 

“It’s so good to see you! Want a drink?” She stepped back before checking her watch. “I’m still on Irish coffee but it’s not too early to move on to wine. Oh! Or! I found this Thanksgiving cocktail recipe online the other day, I’ve got enough to make a few pitchers and there’s no reason we can’t start that right now.” 

“Coffee sounds great,” you smiled. “And then we can talk about the cocktails because I want to see this recipe of yours.” 

“It’s not a Miller Family Thanksgiving without plenty of booze,” Sarah laughed as she poured you a mug of coffee and got the Bailey’s out. “But in a fun way, not a dysfunctional way.” She handed you the mug and you took a sip. She smiled. “There. You’re officially a Miller now. Give me like two minutes, I’m only half way done with my hair, be right back.” 

She went back to her room and you raised your brows at Joel over your mug. 

“Hear that?” You teased. “I’m a Miller now.” 

Joel’s heart soared at that thought. You with his name, you in his house, you living your life alongside his. 

“We should be so lucky.” 

You, Sarah and Joel laughed and drank and finished making dinner until the doorbell rang again and Joel went to answer it, leaving you and Sarah alone at the kitchen table. 

“Hey hey!” Tommy said, a bottle of bourbon in one hand and a pie in the other when Joel opened the door. “Smells good in here!” 

“Sure hope so,” Joel laughed, taking a casserole dish and a pie from Maria. She turned to her husband as she took off her coat. 

“Tommy, do not mention anything about Joel and…” 

“I know,” he smiled but sounded exasperated. “You’ve drilled this into me. Lips are sealed. Course seems like a moot point because we all know he’s gonna fuck her in the bathroom before dessert…” 

“Tommy!” Maria hissed at him. Joel glared. 

“What!” He laughed. “Just sayin’, don’t think they’re gonna keep their hands off each other, it’s gonna come out…” 

“If it comes out because of you, I’ll deck you,” Joel said. “Mean it.” 

“Fine, fine,” he waved him off. “Told you, your secret’s safe with me. Just don’t think it’s all that safe with you.” 

Joel ground his teeth a little at that but he had to acknowledge that Tommy had a point. You were here, so close and he couldn’t touch you. All he wanted was to touch you. When Sarah had gotten up to use the bathroom, the second the door clicked shut you grabbed Joel’s shirt again and pulled him in for a deep and desperate kiss. You licked into his mouth and he tried to hold back the needy moan that slipped from his mouth to yours. 

“Sorry,” you panted after a second, close enough that he could feel your hot breath on his skin. “Just… needed that.” 

“Never apologize for kissin’ me,” he said, a little breathless himself. “Always want you kissing me.” 

At dinner, you sat next to Sarah and Joel sat across from her so at least he’d have some distance. He hoped it would make things easier. Instead, it meant that he was just stuck looking at you all through dinner, wishing you weren’t going back to your place after it was done. 

“Seemed like y’all picked a great game to go to by the way,” Sarah said as everyone ate. “Texas is having a good season this year, they’re definitely getting a bowl game.”

“Oh, definitely. Always fun to watch those. Would the two of you wanna come over for it?” Tommy asked, looking between you and Joel. 

You froze mid chew and your eyes darted to Joel. He looked quickly to Tommy, whose eyes went wide. 

“That’s right!” Sarah laughed, not noticing the small meltdown happening around her at the table. “You’re a Longhorns fan now!” 

You coughed a little and cleared your throat. 

“Yup, basically a college football expert,” you said. “I definitely know what a down is now, for sure.” 

Tommy mouthed a quick ‘sorry’ at Joel once Sarah was focused on something else and Joel tried to keep calm. He should have just talked you into telling her now. This felt like a ticking time bomb and Joel was already tired of acting like you were something he should hide. 

“Told you you’d have fun!” Sarah said, giving you a hug as she and Joel saw you to the door. “It’ll be even more fun tomorrow. I’m getting roped into going out with a friend from high school for a late lunch but I’ll be home right after and then the movie marathon can begin!” 

“Can’t wait,” you gave her a squeeze and gave Joel a smile over her shoulder. 

Joel went to hug you goodbye, too. It wouldn’t be that strange, right? Sarah knew you hung out at least occasionally, after all. 

“Come by early,” he whispered in your ear before stepping back and speaking at a normal volume. “Good to see you again. Thanks for comin’.” 

“Thanks for having me,” you smiled, looking at him with those shining eyes of yours. Fuck, he loved you. 

Which is why he wanted you to come over early. 

He and Sarah got up at damn near the crack of dawn and hauled the Christmas decorations down from the attic, setting up the nativity scene that was as old as Sarah was, putting out the pictures of her with Santa, the little North Pole village made out of cardboard with paper glued to the side that he and Sarah had colored in when she was nine. She held the ladder still while he strung up the lights outside and they went together to get bagels and coffee and pick out the tree. 

Joel remembered getting the tree with Sarah when she was little. He steered her toward the imperfect trees, talking about how much character they had, how the gaps in the branches were perfect for ornaments. He could usually talk the guy in the tree lot down in price because of it and Sarah was excited to have a perfectly imperfect, one of a kind tree. 

She still gravitated toward the imperfect trees. Looking for the evergreens with patches and brown spots and finding the tree that looked least like the others on the lot before taking it home and lovingly covering it in tinsel and ornaments until it looked like the most beautiful tree you could find anywhere. 

He wanted to share this with you, too. When Sarah had called to tell him that she wanted to invite you for Thanksgiving and for Christmas movies, she’d told him things he didn’t know about you. Things he could have guessed, especially now that he knew about your family, but things that hadn’t occurred to him until she said it. 

“She never really did the whole Christmas thing, I don’t think,” she said. “When I asked her about it she just shrugged and said they didn’t celebrate it and I asked if they had some other holiday and she said no, they just didn’t. Isn’t that sad?” 

“Some people just don’t enjoy the holidays, baby girl,” he said, even though his heart hurt for you. 

“I don’t think that’s what it is, though,” she said. “Come on, we have to invite her for Christmas stuff. She should get to do the fun shit at least once!” 

Of course he said yes. He’d want you there anyway but especially now. Even if it was hard with Sarah, he’d want you there. 

But Sarah going out for a bit with her friends made it easier. He was usually very selfish with her days at home, having to consciously avoid guilting her for spending time with anyone who wasn’t him. Now, he was thankful for the chance to see you for a little bit without the watchful eye of his daughter there. 

Because Sarah was right. You did deserve to have the fun stuff, at least once. 

You knocked when you got there while Sarah was gone and smiled when Joel answered the door. 

“Hey,” you said, looking at him like just him being there made your entire day. 

“Hey,” he said back before grabbing you and kissing you, his fingers knotting in your hair, holding you close to him. He pulled back from you a bit, just to look at you. “Damn. I’ve missed doing that.” 

You laughed. 

“Me too.” 

You went inside and gasped at the living room, your hands covering your mouth. 

“What?” He asked. 

“It’s gorgeous!” Your eyes were wide. “It’s like the North Pole in here!” You walked slowly around the room, stopping at the little Christmas village and bending over to look at it closer. “Did you make these?” 

“Yeah,” Joel smiled, going to stand next to you. “Sarah saw one of these little village things at a friend’s house and wanted one but those damn houses were like 80 bucks a pop. But she really wanted a village, so I brought some empty boxes home from work and got some printer paper and drew out some Christmas house looking patterns on it and we colored it in and glued it all together. I gotta do the annual patch up yet, there’s some peeling paper on the corners…” 

You stood up and turned to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him, all gentle at first but then needier, harder. 

“Don’t think we have much time,” you said, your voice think with want. “Should probably take your clothes off.” 

“As much as I’d love to fuck you,” Joel said, kissing you once more before pulling back from you just a bit, close enough that his nose still brushed yours. “That’s not why I asked you to come over.” 

You frowned. 

“It’s not?” 

“Got something for you,” he kissed you again before separating from you entirely, going to a cabinet against the wall. Inside was a plain white box, tied with a bow. He handed it to you and you smiled a little, taking it. 

You untied the ribbon and he watched it float to the floor for a second as you carefully opened the box and you gasped, looking inside it for a moment before looking up at him. 

“Joel,” you whispered, tears in your eyes. 

He smiled a little. 

“I’ll hold the box,” he said, taking it from you so you could use both hands. “Sarah said you didn’t do Christmas as a kid. Thought you might want to here. So you needed a few things…” 

You pulled the first piece out of the box, a little ornament of the Chicago flag. 

“For where you went to college,” he said. You laughed wetly and set it aside, pulling out the little blown glass bottle of Tabasco sauce next. “Because you love your spicy foods.” You laughed harder at that, actually crying now, and turned the delicate bottle over in your fingers before setting it aside, too. Next was a little metal Space Needle and you laughed, holding it up and watching it glint in the light. “That’s for obvious reasons.” 

“Clearly,” you laughed again, drying your eyes with the ornament still in your hands. “Joel…” 

“Should be a few more in there,” he said, smiling. You gave him a look and went back into the box. There was a little Texas ornament with a heart over Austin and you held it up, turning it back and forth in the light. “Figured the lone star state needed representation…” 

“Of course,” you laughed, setting that ornament next to the others and pulling out the last one. “Oh, Joel…” 

It was a little couple with the words “Our First Christmas” written on a ribbon over their heads. Joel’s name was painted on the scarf of one, yours on the other. 

“Since I was kinda hoping you’d be around next Christmas, too, thought we could start a collection,” he said. “And now you’ve got a few ornaments of your own.” 

“This is…” you said running your thumb over the little people in your palm. “I don’t even have a tree!” 

“Sure you do,” he said, nodding to the one in the corner. “You heard Sarah. You’re a Miller now. One more thing in there, Beautiful.” 

You frowned, setting the ornament down and nudging aside tissue paper until you got to the bottom. You gasped again and Joel smiled at the sound as you pulled a stocking out of the box. It was simple, red velvet with a forest green trim and a white fur top, your name embroidered across the top of it. 

“Not Christmas without a stocking,” he smiled. 

You held it in your hands, your fingers running over the soft fur at the top, tracing the gold thread of your name. He set the box aside and put his hands in his back pockets. 

“No one’s ever…” your voice was thick and wet and you looked up at him. “This is incredible, Joel. I don’t even know what to say…” 

“Just say you’ll spend Christmas with me,” he said. “At least this Christmas. Hopefully a lot more, too, but we’ll start with this one.” 

You laughed. 

“Good luck getting me to spend time anywhere else now,” you kissed him, your arms around his neck, pressing your front tightly to his. He held you close, his arms going around you, fingers gripping your ribs and hip tight and he kissed you back, kissed you like he never wanted to stop kissing you. Because he didn’t want to stop kissing you. Not now, not ever. 

Not even when the two of you realized Sarah was standing in the entry way. 

***

“What the fuck?” 

The sound of Sarah’s voice made you jump. You all but leapt away from Joel, your eyes wide and wet, the stocking still in your hand. 

Joel’s gift had been so damn thoughtful and kind and perfect you’d completely forgotten that Sarah was in town and due home eventually. Even though she arrived a bit earlier than you or apparently Joel had expected. 

The gift really had floored you. No one had ever done anything like that for you, had found things just for you, put something together for you so you could be a part of something like a holiday. The only time you’d ever been gone to things like this it had been on the fringes, tacked on as an extra. Which was fine, you understood that. But feeling welcomed into the middle of it all was something else entirely and you were so in love with Joel at that moment it felt like your heart might burst with it. 

And then Sarah was there. 

“Sarah…” your voice cracked. “I… This…” 

“Have you two seriously been fucking this whole time?” She gaped at you. 

Your eyes darted to Joel who looked back at you, eyes wide. He clearly wasn’t ready for this conversation right now either. 

“I should go,” you said quickly, all but running for the door. “Let you two talk…”

“No, wait!” Joel called after you but you ignored him, ducking around Sarah and out into the yard. 

It had gotten dark since you’d come to Joel’s and the Christmas lights on the neighboring houses had turned on, the red and green and white twinkling in the dark as you fought to not sob on your boyfriend’s lawn. 

“Shit,” you swore when you realized you’d left your purse inside the house and had no way to get into your damn car to drive yourself home. 

Your phone was in your back pocket at least. You pulled it out and went into Uber to order a ride. You could come back later to pick up your car. And your purse. And you had some credit cards loaded on your phone and the corner store down the street from your apartment accepted that at least so you wouldn’t be totally screwed if you needed something before Sarah left town….

The Christmas lights on Joel’s house flipped on and the brightness of it made you flinch. 

“Hey,” Joel called and you turned without thinking, wiping your tears on the backs of your sleeve. He was barefoot, his breath rising on the air in front of him.

“I’m leaving,” you managed, holding up your phone. “Go back in, talk to Sarah…” 

“Don’t go,” he cut you off, hands up as he cautiously reached for you. “Come back inside, we can all talk and…” 

“I’m not going to ruin your relationship with your daughter, Joel,” you sniffed, looking down at the stocking that was still in your hand. “I love you both too much for that…” 

“You love him?” Sarah was in the doorway, pulling the door closed behind her and wrapping her arms around her waist as she jogged over to you both. “Ugh, it’s cold out here!” 

“Sarah…” you tried to find the words. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t… It’s not like… I know you’re upset…” 

“What?” She gaped at you and laughed a little. “Babes, I’m not mad!” 

You sniffed and dried your eyes with your sleeve again. 

“You’re not?” 

“No!” She laughed. “I mean I guess I’m a little ticked that you both hid this from me but I’m just glad I’m not insane!”

“What do you mean?” You shook your head. “I don’t…” 

“Bestie!” She came and grabbed your shoulders and met your eyes. “It was a set up! I’ve thought you two would be a great couple for fucking years but I knew you’d freak out if I actually told you that. I kind of hoped things would get there on their own and that you two would hit it off and be friends, why do you think I was so let down when you said you weren’t `hanging out?” 

“You…” you frowned, the tears finally slowing. “You were trying to set us up?” 

“Yes!” She laughed. “I mean, yeah, it might be a little weird - and please don’t talk to me about my dad the way you have past boyfriends because ew - but you two are my favorite people! You have so much in common and you both deserve something good and I know you’ll be good to each other. I just felt like I was insane for thinking you two would want to hang out once you met and then you didn’t. But I was right!” 

“You’re such a dick!” You laughed and she laughed too. “I’ve been freaking out for like two months!” 

“Well that’s what you get for not telling me everything,” she smiled. “Except you’ll need to find someone else to talk to about sex now. I might be weird enough to set my best friend up with my dad but even I have my limits. Also, I’m not going to call you mom.” 

You laughed and Joel draped an arm around Sarah’s shoulders, kissing the top of her head. 

“Shouldn’t be so sneaky, baby girl,” he said, but he was smiling. 

“Well you never listen any other way,” she said. “Now I’m still cold and there’s hot cocoa and snacks waiting inside…” 

“Oh!” You said. “I forgot, I have something in the car…” 

You ran back inside and grabbed your keys and pulled some covered dishes out of the back seat. Sarah frowned, her arms still around her waist. 

“It might be dumb, but…” You held up the containers. “I made a bunch of gingerbread and frosting and got candy and stuff…” 

“You brought stuff to make gingerbread houses?” Sarah practically squealed. “Knew you’d make a great Miller!” 

You laughed and Joel took the dishes from you as the three of you turned to head back inside. You stopped for a second and looked up at the house, the whole thing trimmed in colorful lights, a family of light up reindeer in the front yard. You smiled at it, looking like the home you always wished you had as a girl. 

“You really made something amazing here, Joel,” you said. 

“Did my best,” he shrugged. “But now that you and Sarah are here? It’s perfect.” 

You smiled at him and your best friend before going inside to hang your stocking up next to theirs where it belonged. 

Next Chapter

A/N: AHHHHHH Sarah finally knows and YES, for those playing along at home, it was indeed a set up from the start. She's sneaky, that one!

Also, in case you're wondering, the ornament Joel gets Beautiful for the two of them? A variation on something like this. Isn't it the fucking cutest thing???

I hope you've loved this fic because I've loved writing it. Just one chapter left to put a bow on everything! Thank you so much for reading and for being here. Love you!!

Taglist: @fanficismydrug

[thetokentrans]

Bobby Nash is a Good Man

(I wrote a new fic! It's an alternate take on the scene between Eddie and Bobby in S5E18)

AO3

Eddie fought against the urge to fidget as he waited for Bobby to open the door. The last time he had shown up unannounced, they had really gotten into it. This time was different, but still could potentially end similarly. Eddie let out a sigh, putting his hands behind his back and channeling his military training, to give his brain something to focus on. His posture righted itself. He shifted his gaze to the floor for a moment before the door opened and Eddie snapped his attention to the face of the man behind it.

"Eddie!" Bobby said, voice surprised but warm, though also slightly guarded.

"Bobby." He smiled and raised his hands in the air in a sign of surrender. "Promise I don't have any transfer requests in my hand."

Bobby chuckles and responds, "Alright, then you can come in." He moves to the side to let the other man into the house.

"Can't stay long, I need to pick up Christopher." He says as he walks into the living room of the Grant-Nash home. He paused, turning to look at his Captain - rather, former captain - before continuing.

"But um, I wanted to say… Jonah wasn't your fault." Eddie stared Bobby down, trying to hold his eyeline, his brown eyes serious.

Bobby's face was grave and his voice had a bit of an edge to it when he responded, "Eddie."

"No, look. I spent the last few months trying to put away a lot of things from the past and move on." Eddie interrupted Bobby, wanting to say his whole piece before he lost his nerve. "What I've learned is, you can't carry someone else's weight. It'll take you under."

Bobby stared at him, a shine to his eyes. "I'm the Captain. My responsibility -"

"Is your team."

Bobby sighs, but Eddie continues, prepared to talk over his captain - former captain, Eddie mentally corrects himself yet again - if he tries to speak again.

"But he was on the 118 for what… a few weeks?" Eddie's gaze never wavers from Bobby's eyes as he speaks, determined to make the words sure the words stick. "You barely knew him. You think you missed something? All of those other cities, those other houses. Everybody missed something." His voice was soft but determined.

Bobby shook his head and gazed at Eddie with glassy, red-rimmed eyes. "This happened on my watch. He killed Claudette, and who knows how many others...."

"Because he thought he was a god. But he's not." He paused for a moment, before adding, "Neither are you. You're not all knowing and all seeing, Bobby. You're just a good man."

This last line makes Bobby break eye contact with Eddie, shaking his head as he looks away for a second.

"I'm not. I am not." His voice is strained as he says this, and the pain in it makes Eddie's heart hurt.

"You saved my life. And my son's."

And it's the truth. If Bobby hadn't hired him, he wouldn't have met the 118 - his chosen family. He wouldn't have met Carla, who have him the tools to improve his son's life. He wouldn't have met Buck, who would do nearly anything for Eddie and Chris. Who felt like home.

"So… whatever responsibility you take for Jonah, make sure you take some credit for me. You earned it."

Eddie looked at his watch and realized he was running late. He hadn't intended to leave Carla alone with Chris and his gaggle of friends for too long.

"I've gotta go." He walks past Bobby and starts up the stairs toward the door.

Of course the thoughts of the 118 brought him to thoughts of Buck - it never really took much for Eddie's thoughts to drift to his best friend. But he thinks about how far Buck has come even in just the short time Eddie has known him, and how much of that is thanks to Bobby having confidence in his abilities and giving him space to just be. Buck really is even more a testament to how good of a man Bobby is than Eddie, he realizes. Does Bobby know that?

"You also saved Buck, too, you know. I don't know if he'd ever admit it." He turns around as he speaks. "But…You've raised and cared for him more in the years he's been in the 118 than his parents ever did. You helped him break through his need to put on a façade, and really become himself. So take some credit for that too, Bobby. I think, really, if you look at the whole of the crew at the 118, they, we, outweigh the whole Jonah thing."

Eddie can't help the tears that start streaming down his cheeks, can't help how strained with emotions his has become. Part of it is the pain of realizing that one of the best men he's ever met can't admit that he's a good man. But the other part is just. Buck. And he doesn’t allow himself the space to think about that for too long.

"You provide this space for all of us to shine together, and separately, you know? To try to be better, constantly. That little family unit makes running into those scary situations a lot easier." He takes a deep breath before adding, "That's one of the things I miss most, really."

An image of Buck and himself in their turnout gear flashes in his head, Buck's hand on his shoulder and - though he can't see it, he's sure it's there - megawatt smile on display, pointed in Eddie's direction.

"If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have one of the most important people in my life, Bobby." This part was almost a whisper, meant to be more for himself than Bobby, but he can see the small, teary smile on Bobby's face in his peripheral vision.

Eddie shakes his head, wiping away the tears and clearing his throat before continuing. "So try to remember that, the next time you feel the need to count your sins. You saved me, in more ways than one, when you took me on. When you pushed Buck and I together." Eddie takes a deep sigh before turning back toward the door. "Now I really need to go."

Bobby had turned to face Eddie when he walked toward the door initially, but at some point when Eddie hadn't noticed, Bobby had also walked closer to where Eddie was perched at the top of stairs.

Bobby enveloped him in a tight, but brief hug, murmuring a "Thank you" before releasing him and slapping him on the shoulder.

"Alright, now get outta here." Bobby joked, his eyes still red rimmed but less glassy.

Eddie nodded once before letting himself out.

[jackwolfes]

I've been reading smut for nine years so you'd think I'd be able to at least write a little bit of it, right? And yet, the minute it comes to even a kiss scene I get all uncomfy and just can't do it. Lately I've been coming up with so many smut scenes I wanna write but I keep second guessing myself and feeling all embarrassed. Any words of wisdom from a smut veteran like yourself?

i've shared some advice on this in more detail before and also here but the key question i'd ask yourself is: why

like. why are you embarrassed writing smut. why THIS and not writing fluff or whump or very elaborate longfics. because smut is at the end of the day any other type of writing, with just as much feeling and action and weird messy fluids.

"sex is taboo and shameful and i've got catholic guilt" - so fair, we live in a society. but also, sex is natural and a 100% morally neutral act. i'd be surprised if this wasn't underlying some part of the embarrassment but at a certain point, if this is the key thing holding you back, you might just need to sit down and consider whether you want the hegemonic bastards that suck the dick of advertisers and snuff out any sort of difference to be the thing holding you back from what is already a transgressive weirdo hobby. accept that if this is your biggest sticking point, you might not be ready to jump straight into writing a graphic monsterfucking piss play orgy and might have to start with heavy petting and missionary that's more feelings and "i love you"s than descriptions of genitals. and maybe you need to write 10,000 kissing scenes first to build up the courage to write the word "cock", but that's never going to be wasted time. there's no race. you don't need to jump straight in.

"fear of being perceived" - you are the arbiter of who sees this. you can post it anonymously, you can post this under a sock puppet account you made with a completely different email, you can wait until youve written 5 million words and post it all at once, you can literally never ever ever ever ever post it ever. but don't not write it because of an audience that doesn't even exist yet.

"fear of being cancelled for writing something weird" - the ao3 block button is a beautiful, beautiful feature. if someone reads something they don't like, what are they going to do? nark in your comments? whine? launch a smear campaign? fuck em. you should practice good internet safety to avoid getting doxx'd anyway, and if you do literally the only thing they can do is complain, which means all you have to do to get them to shut up is block them

"i like what i'm writing a Bit Too Much and don't know how to process that" - 1) self indulgence is the fucking shit but also 2) the writing is the processing it. writing is a tool that can help you identify the things that get you hot or your underlying opinions on the concept of intimacy and love. and dear god it's fucking awful to be vulnerable but the benefit is very very worth it. also no one's gonna know if you have a wank because you wrote a fic so hot you turned yourself on unless you tell them, so if that's how you gotta process it, then that's between you and god

"it's going to be bad" - it will unfortunately continue to be bad without practice.

if it wasn't immediately obvious from this answer, the only reason i ever got to 'smut veteran' stage was because i got really really fucking shameless about a lot of things, including the fact that i cannot say sexual things out loud, sometimes turn bright red while writing smut, and have still been known to get so embarrassed by a fic that i have to slam my laptop shut and put it away because i can't cope. and i think that part of writing anything that makes you feel that way is acknowledging that 1) you're strong enough to get through that discomfort and 2) a little bit of discomfort is probably worse than not writing anything at all

[sky-neverending]

Eddie rockstar au featuring past fwb Steddie who are reuniting to be more?? and an original song I wrote?? Slay! (lemme know if you want me to do a part 2 or post this to ao3?) under the cut cause its a LONG BOI

Eddie grew up drowning out the noise. He was used to covering his ears, to turning up the music. So the screams and shouts of others had grown cold on him, never really affecting the way he lived.

But this? This was a whole different story.

He peeked his head out from behind the curtain, glancing at the crowd that had gathered in front of the stage. The crowd that was there to see him. It was odd, the fact that so many people wanted to be there for him, wanted to hear him make music he used to use as a distraction in his home, and after the fight, in the dingy bedroom of Wayne’s trailer. 

Someone grabbed him by the back of his shirt, pulling him away from the crowd before they could spot him. “What do you think you're doing?” a girl hissed, and he turned around to grin at her. 

“Checking out my adoring fans, Chris,” he joked, running a hand through his curls. “Gotta see if anyone stands out to me, ya know?”

She rolled her eyes at him, but a fond smile crossed her lips. “You go on in 2,” she warned, shoving his shoulder lightly. “Good luck out there.”

“I won’t need it,” he responded with a wink. 

As Chrissy walked away, Eddie’s heart started beating louder. Adrenaline and pure anxiety mixed in his veins, a feeling stronger than one he had ever been given by any substance. 

It was show time. The crowd wanted a rockstar? He was going to give them one. 

Stepping onto the stage, Eddie let the roars of the people before him soak in. He threw his head back, taking a long, deep breath before addressing the crowd.

“Are you ready to rock, freaks?” 

The show went on as normal, Eddie playing and singing and basking in the reactions of the crowd. It wasn’t until he got to his final song that he spotted a familiar face in the front row.

“Alright, alright,” he began, putting a finger to his lips. “Everyone hush now.” Taking a deep breath, he looked straight at the first man he was ever in love with. Straight at his high school hookup that could have been something more. Straight at Steve Harrington himself. “This last song is dedicated to someone I knew once. I hope he knows it’s about him.” 

And then he started to sing.

Denim, denim jeans

Polo with a band T hidden underneath 

All the girls wrapped around his finger

But i’m standing just where he can’t see

Midnight kisses and early morning drives 

To the lake down the street where he can hide

Cause you know he’ll never be 

Brave enough to see

That he’s dying simply because he’s living

A lie

He took a breath before launching into the chorus, fingers shaky on his guitar.

Do you care

That I’m not there 

Or was I never on your mind in the first place 

Do you see me?

I’m screaming, screaming 

I’m reaching, reaching out

But you turn away

So what else can I say?

Farah Faucett hair spray 

And a smile that could kill

I think it already did 

But at least I’ll die on this hill

Sayin’ there’s no point in loving if

You can’t love yourself

So walk away, trophy boy

Let them put you on your shelf

Do you care

That I’m not there 

Or was I never on your mind in the first place 

Do you see me?

I’m screaming, screaming 

I’m reaching, reaching out

But you turn away

So what else can I say?

Yeah what else can I say?

The song ended on a solo guitar riff, Eddie pouring his heart and soul into every note. He opened his eyes on the last strum, looking right at Steve and winking. 

“Thank you guys for coming out tonight,” he said, addressing the crowd as a whole. “I can’t put it into words how happy I am to be here. Goodnight, Indy!” And with that he threw up his horns, swung his guitar once around his body, and strutted off the stage like he hadn’t just indirectly confessed his feelings to someone he never thought he’d see again. 

His heart thumping in his chest, Eddie turned to Chrissy with the little hope and prayer he had left in him. “Front row,” he said, “Harrington. Looks the same as he did in school, sticks out like a sore thumb. Bring him back here.” Chrissy raised an eyebrow, but upon seeing his desperation, turned and walked toward the side exit of the stage. It led out to the gates that separated Eddie from the crowd, and he could hear the clatter of them opening as she hurried Steve through before letting the security guards handle whoever else clamored after them.

Curtains fluttering with movement, Eddie held his breath. He watched as Steve stepped through, running a hand through his hair awkwardly. 

“Harrington,” said Eddie, almost a whisper. “I’ll be damned.”

Steve smiled, and fuck if that smile didn’t buckle Eddie’s knees. “Hey, Munson,” he greeted, hands at his sides. “Nice show.”

Laughing, Eddie stepped closer. “Didn’t take you as part of this crowd,” he stated, looking Steve up and down. The faded yellow of his jumper was probably the preppiest thing in the audience, amongst the blacks and rips and chains that his usual fans sported. “You get a girlfriend who’s into our kind of music? Or did you just decide to show up and look like an outcast?” His words were teasing, and he hoped Steve could see that.

“Uh,” Steve pressed his lips together, looking at the ground. “No, Robin dragged me down here. Said it would be good for me to get out of my comfort zone… and stuff.”

“And stuff,” Eddie repeated with a grin. “Not going to lie to you, Stevie, I didn’t think you and the band geek would last.” He tried not to let jealousy seep through his tone. 

With the kick of his foot, Steve’s shoulders loosened. “She’s not the band geek I’m after, trust me.” He looked Eddie directly in the eye. “I messed up, Eds.”

Eddie stared at him. “What?”

“I messed up, Eddie Munson,” Steve repeated with intent, “and I want to make things right.” He advanced, tilting his chin up just the slightest bit. “I shouldn’t have hidden from you. I shouldn’t have turned you away, and I’m sorry. And that song-” he paused, biting his bottom lip, “God, Eddie, you have some real talent.”

“It took a song about you for you to realize that?” Eddie joked, and Steve rolled his eyes in response. He sighed, reaching a hand up to Eddie’s cheek. The touch was tender, sweet, all the things Eddie had dreamed of when they’d been apart.

“Shut up,” he said. “Shut up and let me take you out on a date.”

Heart lurching, Eddie’s face broke into a grin so wide it was painful. “What’s in it for me, Harrington?” he asked slowly, leaning into the touch. “I’m a rockstar now, why should I go out with you?”

“Because I asked nicely?” Steve whispered, curling his hand and letting the tip of his nails trail down Eddie’s cheek. “And because I want to make things right?”

It was Eddie’s turn to roll his eyes. “Ever the romantic, sweetheart.” His tongue pressed up against his cheek, like he was contemplating the question. He wasn’t. “Sure, I’ll go out with you. Meet me behind the venue in half an hour?”

Steve nodded. “I can do that,” he said. “I need to go talk to Robin, I owe her money.” With that, he pulled away, leaving Eddie longing for his touch again. “I’ll see you later,” he called out, walking with Chrissy toward an exit that would lead him past the crowd. 

Eddie watched him leave, a smile on his face.

He had himself a date, and all it took was one little song.

[kiwiana-writes]

Hiiiii! For the love your fandom asks, tell me 5, 11, 16, and 20! 🥰

5. something you see in fics a lot and love

Words. I love it when fic writers give me words.

As for an actual answer: Oxford 👏 Slut 👏 Phase 👏

11. if you're a writer or artist, what fic or piece of art are you proud of making?

Wow, this question is mean. Who would ask someone this????

And who the fuck let me put two hundred and fifty nine works on AO3?

Podfics first: It's gotta be Going Platinum by @cricketnationrise. It's by FAR the longest solo project I've done (I think there's one posted podfic and one work in progress that I might have more audio minutes on, both as a narrator for a multi-voice project, but I didn't have to edit that shit so it's not my problem 🤣) and for some batshit insane reason I decided to do soundscaping/sound effects for the first time??? But I LOVED how it came out, and I was exceptionally proud of myself for keeping it a secret from cricket because that was HARD. (And yes I WILL be recording parts two and three!)

Schitt's Creek fic: Time until the end of time, the afterlife fic @ships-to-sail and I co-wrote over TWO YEARS and, not to toot our own horns, but the fandom at large slept on it 😅 It's amazing, actually.

RWRB fic: This one's brutal. It's almost Much Ado, and idk maybe it should be Much Ado, but I actually think it's Like loving the stars themselves aka the Doctor Who AU. Also a little bit slept on, actually, but not to the same extent as above 🤣 I am phenomenally proud of this one. The genre was way outside my usual comfort zone and I think this fic is the best example of the way I love to write media AUs -- the story bent to fit the characters, so it's very much an Alex And Henry Story, but there are little pieces of DW canon, RWRB canon, and something that's entirely my own.

16. a tiny detail in canon that you want more people to appreciate

There are so many, honestly, but Alex's slightly hysterical thought about wanting to send whoever taught Henry to suck cock a gift basket is so, so fucking important to me for an array of Overthinking/Over-identifying Reasons. Also it's just funny as hell. I was very proud of getting a different version of it into chapter two of the arranged marriage AU, actually; I think that bit in particular is one of the funnier things I've written.

20. your very first fandom!

The one owned by terf queen mcgee. That was bb!MJ's first exposure to fanfiction and where I started writing fic.

[✨ love your fandom asks ✨]

[shrinkthisviolet]

Or ❛ who did this to you? ❜ with Morgan and Barry?

So this one…really got away from me 😅 it’s much longer than expected, and for that reason, if anyone prefers to read it on AO3, you’re welcome to do so (this is the case for all my prompt fills ofc, which are cross-posted to AO3 in this series, but I mention it for this one specifically because of its length).

Also…Happy Birthday Iris! I’m later to posting this than intended, but I wrote and finished this during June 24th, so it counts to me. Also, Iris is fairly prominent here for that reason (Morgan & Iris took as much center stage as Barry & Morgan in this prompt fill, hope you don’t mind 😅)

And one more thing…this takes place between 1x11 and 1x14 (connected to this fic, though it can theoretically be read as a standalone ig). And, obviously, it’s not canon to the AU—it’s a branching path, something that could’ve happened.

All that said, enjoy:

“You’ve got me, always. If you need anything…”

“I’ll call.”

Morgan hadn't expected to call in that favor so soon, but with her head still ringing from that hit earlier (so stupid, so, so stupid, why hadn’t she dodged it?), she had no other choice. Dad was home tonight, and she was nearly late for curfew, even without factoring in the necessary time to change out of her suit before he caught her.

She didn’t think she could stomach one of his lectures tonight—his disappointment cut deeper than any knife.

So, as her head swam and she struggled to walk steadily—were headaches this bad usually? She’d never had one like this. She hadn’t gotten a migraine, had she?—she called Iris.

“Morgan?”

“Iris!” Morgan sighed in relief. “Thank God, I…listen, I’m sorry for calling so late, but I really need your—”

“Where are you?” Iris sounded so worried already…but for what?

“I’m on my way—”

“Hello?”

Morgan frowned. What…? “Iris, I was saying, I’m on my way ho—”

“On your way where?”

“Home!” Was the connection bad or something? “Listen, I need your—”

Someone pushed her just then, and she turned to shout at them…only to see a car whiz by.

“Watch where you’re going,” her mysterious savior snapped, disappearing into thin air.

She, however, was more focused on what had just happened. She’d nearly been hit by a car. A car that she…hadn’t even heard. What the hell is going—?

“…home alone? At night?” Iris definitely sounded worried now.

“It’s okay,” Morgan insisted, “I’ll be fine, I just…I just need you to call Dad and tell him—”

“What street crossing are you on? Barry can come get you.”

“No!” Morgan couldn’t think of anything worse than Barry having to deal with her problems. He already resented her enough as it was. “No, I…I’ll be fi—”

“Morgan. Street names. I think you might have a concussion.”

Morgan burst out laughing. “A c-c-cussion? Come on, Iris, get r—”

“Please,” Iris begged—much to Morgan’s surprise, as Iris never, ever begged.

So she sighed and said, “One sec,” and slowly walked over to the nearest street signs, squinting. “It says…Pourer and Maim?”

“…do you mean Porter and Main?” Iris replied after a long time.

Morgan squinted at the sign. “I don’t…the letters are all wonky, I can’t…I can’t tell.” Tears welled in her eyes. “God, I’m so sorry. You can hang up if you want, I’ll figure this out mys—”

“Don’t be sorry! I’d feel terrible about leaving you to this—Barry’s on his way, and I swear he won’t bug you about anything. Okay?”

“Okay,” she relented, though right as she said it, she found herself picked up and swept off. Against her better judgment, she leaned her head on Barry’s shoulder.

He shook her as he set her down on a soft bed, looking surprisingly regretful. “Sorry. But we’ve gotta check you for a concussion first.”

When she nodded, he looked concerned, as if she hadn’t answered immediately, exchanging a look with Iris.

“Morgan, honey?” Iris squeezed her hand, smiling sadly when Morgan met her eyes. “I’m sorry, but you can’t go anywhere in this state. Barry already called Caitlin, and—”

“You didn’t have to bother her,” Morgan whispered, wondering why Iris’s sentence kept going even though Morgan had interrupted and Iris was no longer speaking. “I’ve had headaches before, I can sleep this off.”

“Morgan,” Barry said slowly, “do you realize that you’ve been answering our questions and reacting to us half a minute after we’ve spoken?”

Morgan blinked. “I…what?”

“And your speech is slurring,” Iris added, brows knitted. “Not much, but still. Caitlin says those are the two main signs. By the way,” she added to Barry, “what did she say?”

“She said she can’t make it tonight, so I should call her back and let her know how the injury looks. Speaking of which…?”

Morgan drew back nervously. “Why are you helping me? You hate me.”

“You’re hurt,” he said, as if that explained anything.

“So what?”

His face crumpled at that. “Morgan. Please. I’m not going to hurt you, I promise. But I…I can’t leave you in this state. Please let me look?”

Despite her reactions apparently having a time delay, he didn’t do anything until she nodded and took her hood off, exposing the bruising on her face…and the one on the back of her head that was tender to touch—she winced as Barry’s fingers brushed over it.

“Who did this to you?” Barry growled, much to Morgan’s surprise. “Who would dare—”

“Is this from your…side hobby?” Iris asked delicately.

Morgan blinked, confused. Why the discretion? Doesn’t she know that Barry knows?

Barry frowned. “Are you talking about Sentry?”

Iris blushed, her cheeks darkening. “What? No. What gave you that ide—”

“You told her?” Barry’s eyes held pain, anger—and that pissed Morgan off even more.

“So what if I did? It’s my secret, not yours!”

“You had no right to tell her about me!”

“I didn’t!” Did he truly think so little of her? “I only told her about me!”

“Wait, wait.” Iris frowned. “Barry? What are you talking about?”

Barry froze. “Um…I…that is—”

Iris’s eyes widened just then. “This has to do with why you’re fighting, isn’t it?”

“No! I mean…yes, but no, not like—”

“Once Morgan’s asleep,” she interrupted sharply, “you and I are gonna talk, Bartholomew.”

“Okay,” he muttered. “Okay, that’s fair.”

“In the meantime,” she declared, “go call Caitlin and tell her about this. And as she suggested, Morgan, you’ll sleep here overnight.”

“But…but Dad—”

“Do you remember his number?” Iris asked gently. “It’s okay if not, I could just get it from—”

“I’m his daughter,” Morgan snapped, “of course I know his number.”

“Okay,” Iris replied, taking out a piece of paper and a pen, “then relay it to me. Slowly.”

“Sure. It’s 816…uh…42…8…?” Morgan’s eyes welled with tears again as she smacked her head. “Come on, I know this! I—!”

“Woah, woah.” Iris pulled Morgan’s hands away from her head. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not!” She cried. “It’s…he’s my father, why can’t I…why don’t…?”

“It’s okay,” Iris repeated softly.

Barry came back in just then, saying, “Caitlin said she can drop by in the morning. And she’s calling Dr. Wells, so don’t worry.”

“It’s not her problem,” Morgan whispered. “It’s not…none of you need to…”

“Hey.” Barry kneeled down beside her, his expression softer than she’d seen it in the past few weeks. “I think maybe once you’re healed up…you and I need to have a talk, huh? An overdue one.”

“What?” He wasn’t making sense. “What kind of…?”

“I think…I think I might’ve been wrong about you,” he admitted. “Really wrong. In a way that hurt you for so long. I just…I just wanna make sure.”

“You should fill me in first,” Iris reminded him sharply.

“Yep,” he agreed, blushing. “I’ll do that first. And then…and then us. Okay, Mo?”

She was definitely hallucinating now. Or dreaming. Or something. Maybe she had a concussion after all, and she’d passed out without realizing and was delirious now. But…but this was a nice moment anyway, wasn’t it? Even if it wasn’t real? “Okay,” she agreed, her voice breaking. “I’d…I’d really like that.”

“Good.” Barry squeezed her hand. “Then let’s get you settled.”

And so they did. As Morgan drifted off to sleep, Barry and Iris sat on either side of the bed, and Morgan clung to Barry’s hand.

“Sleep tight, Mo.” He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

And she believed him. Barry was a terrible liar, and he’d surely be the same way in a hallucination or dream too.

But then…is this real after all?

To clarify a few things:

Concussions can have many symptoms, even far more dangerous ones, though the ones I focused on are delayed reactions, confusion/disorientation, and forgetfulness. Slurred speech is alluded to, but I didn’t focus on writing it as a speech pattern 😅 so she has mild slurred speech (a mild-to-moderate concussion in general tbh). Also forgive me for any inaccuracies, I’ve never had a concussion, this is solely based on me skimming the Mayo Clinic and Cleveland Clinic pages about them. (Also ofc Morgan gets checked over properly by Caitlin the next day, and probably goes to see her pediatrician too)

The person who saved Morgan from that car didn’t actually disappear. It just seemed that way to her

816 is the area code around Kansas City, which is a city in Missouri that borders Kansas. For convenience, that’s where Central City approximately is (it’s canonically at the border anyway)

prompt list!

Taglist (send an ask or DM to be added or removed):

@arrthurpendragon @ocappreciationtag @raith-way @vexic929 @ironverseocs

@thechaoticfanartist @goldheartedchaoticdisaster @starstruckpurpledragon @negative-speedforce @angst-is-love-angst-is-life

@miss-eli-starfleet

[kay-elle-cee]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Hi hi hi! It's been awhile since I did something like this (I feel like I've just mostly been lurking around here lately), so thank you for the tag @annabtg!

AO3 Username: kay_elle_cee

1. How many works do you have on A03? 42!

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? 307,791.

3. What fandoms do you write for? Harry Potter (Jily) and I'm sitting on a Willabeth oneshot for Pirates of the Caribbean.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

i'll be fine, i'll be good

Things That Haven't Happened Yet

A Thrill Divine, Down My Spine

it's (always) you

Fireside Chats <<<That’s a surprise!

5. Do you respond to comments? Always always always! I'm the type of person who always leaves comments, and I love being able to personally chat with everyone who took the time to say something nice :)

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Ooh that's hard because I write a lot of angst....it's gotta be Idolum and Fulcrum, right? I can think of two others still 😅 But I'm going with these, which are two sides of the same coin.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? I think A Thrill Divine, Down My Spine, specifically since it's a no-Voldemort AU friends-to-lovers situation.

8. Do you get hate on fics? I have not (yet) and I'm super grateful for that. I know it'll come, statistically.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? I do! (God Kelsey from a year ago is SHAKING). I think usually I like to connect it to emotion even if it's a pwp situation, but overall I'd say it's pretty vanilla lol.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? Technically no but also a character named Katherine Kelley made an appearance in my Newsies AU, and if you know, you know.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I know of!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Someone asked to translate Things That Haven't Happened Yet into Russian, but I'm not sure if that ever happened.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? I have not!

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? Jily :) (Willabeth is also like, neck-and-neck).

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I'm trying not to burden myself with a bunch of WIPs so I finish everything 🤞🏼 I have 2 fully outlined right now and I intend to finish!

16. What are your writing strengths? I think dialogue and pacing?

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Description 🙈 Specifically scene-setting description.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I don't think I could do it believably, but I love to see it done when it enhances the characters or plot!

19. First fandom you wrote for? Harry Potter. I somehow always find my way back.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written? Listen. Come in close. This will probably always change depending on when you ask me. I've, unsurprisingly, got restless waves rise and fall, my Jily Pirate AU on my brain lately. But also so much time and effort went into i'll be fine, i'll be good, and seeing that it's my most-kudosed fic brings me SO much joy, you can't imagine. <3

Tagging @jamesunderwater, @alittlebitofeverything23, @clare-with-no-i, @isahorcrux, @thequibblah, @possessingtheproperspirit, @emeralddoeadeer @nodirectionhome-ao3 @suzyq31 <3 if you feel like it!

[shares-a-vest]

20 Questions for Writers

I was tagged by the wonderful @hbyrde36 and @sidekick-hero. Thank you both so much for the tags 💖 I always love seeing authors talking about their work!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Six. I really need to cross-post some stuff, including what I wrote for Steddie Love Month and the Flufftober Spring Event.

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

16,565 words.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Stranger Things and let me tell you, the brainrot is not subsiding (it is settling in to fester now).

4. What are your top 5 3 fics by kudos?

you should come live with me and we can be pirates, then you won't have to cry

Just a Shirt

Eds, I'm Hungry

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes! And I'm sure my answers are always too long-winded 😂 It makes me so happy to get comments on the silly things I write. Actually, brb, I'm sure in the initial excitement, I have forgotten to respond to some here and there.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

This ficlet (WARNING: BREAK UP FIC). Life got hectic during Eddie Month so I only wrote a couple of things and this one hurrrrt baaad.

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

Hmm, tough to pick seeing as I usually write happy endings. Lol, the number of times I ended something with Steddie kissing or saying, "I love you". I think I'll go with the entirety of my Joanie Munson AU because it's where I aim to be as fluffy/sappy as possible.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I am extremely thankful that so far I haven't. And I am sending all my love and hugs to people who deal with/have dealt with hateful comments.

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

Steve Harrington & Eddie Munson vs. A Box of Condoms is the closest I have come (hehe, pun). Idk, I struggle to write smut. I'm much better with suggestive language and innuendo, but somehow this fic got the balance right and honestly, gave me a lot of confidence!

10. Do you write crossovers?

No. But I need everyone to know that I have a Riverdale x ST crossover sloshing around in my brain juice on the regular.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge. But now I'm paranoid *also proceeds to have an existential crisis about ai scraping my very internet-based soul.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, but I'm more than welcome for someone to reach out.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No. I am absolutely open to it though! The closest to a collab I have done is Just a Shirt in which I wrote a whole fic from some incredible tags that were left on a ficlet.

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

I mean, it's gotta be Steddie right? I've never had a hyperfixation give me brainrot like this. Though, if we go back to lame teenage me, the ship that really got me into the fic/tumblr sphere was Sterek.

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

I have been returning to a few wips I thought I had abandoned lately, so never say never. I firmly believe in taking a break if something isn't working out and circling back with fresh eyes.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Despite how I am probably answering most of these questions (lmao), I think I am pretty good at keeping my writing concise and moving it right along. It's not that I rush writing, but I am good at recognising when something I have written begins to meander. I like writing dialogue where people are cutting each other off, and crafting stuff that is a quick little ficlet etc. Having said this...

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Descriptive language. I always get so caught up in action and dialogue that I easily forget descriptions of surroundings, objects, clothes etc. Funnily enough, right now I am working on a few quick visual aids (flash-sheet style sketches) for my Steddie BB fic of things that I need to keep in mind/remember to describe as a strategy that will hopefully help.

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

I could never do it (I only speak English), but honestly, kudos to you if you do/can!

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Stranger Things is the first fandom I have written for.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

I swear to god this isn't a plug, but I thiiiiink it might be the wip I am oh-so-close to finishing. It's basically a character study of Steve's Mom and is her POV of the end of season 3. I have shared some snippets in the STWG server (and complained during writing sprints). I just need to do a solid edit and get a vibe-check read-through from someone else then it's good to go!!!

Tagging: @momotonescreaming @eyesofshinigami @devondespresso @missberrycake @steventhusiast

(I know this tag game has been making the rounds, so if you see this and haven't been tagged yet, count this as a tag)

[mrsbsmooth]

20 questions for fic writers

Thanks for the tag @rebelrayne! @longbobmckenzie tagged me in the body of hers too so I’ll take it.

How many works do you have on ao3?

82 right now, but I’ve orphaned a few recently

What’s your total ao3 word count?

1,220,982. I’ve got about another 30-40k words in WIP documents right now, so almost one-amd-a-quarter million words 😨

What fandoms do you write for?

Love Island the Game, Too Hot to Handle game, Harry Potter (Dramione exclusive), Romance Club (Heaven’s Secret)

Top five fics by Kudos

Tell Me What You Want (HP)

This Time, I’m Serious

Jaded

Unhealthy

Kinktober 2022

TIL that my Harry Potter fic has overtaken TTIS even though TTIS has more hits.

Do you respond to comments?

Yes! There were a few on TTIS I missed that it would be awkward to reply to because it was so long ago, but I make a point of trying to reply to every comment.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

The only sad ending I’ve ever written was the first chapter of Jaded which was originally done as a oneshot.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Probably Welcome To Racers. They got the whole shebang. Love me a happily ever after.

Do you get hate on fics?

Not recently. I’ve had hate for my portrayals of Alex, Lucas, and Suresh. But I haven’t had any nasty anon comments in ages which is lovely.

Do you write smut?

Yeah it's kinda my thing.

Craziest crossover:

I don’t know if I’ve done many crossovers… maybe Bruno and Miri Make a Porno or All I Want for Christmas is You which is a hetero take on Red White and Royal blue?

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

No but I think I would probably die of happiness.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I HAVE! All’s Fair in Casa Amor was written with my beautiful friends @i-boop-you and @crimswnred !!!!!!

All time favourite ship?

Dramione (new fave) but for LITG? Hard question because our fandom is so built around an MC. But with two canon characters? I secretly love a Bruno/Valentina. Also love Hope/Lucas. They just WORK.

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

It’s gotta be Recovery. I have the whole thing planned in my head but I just have no motivation to write it at all. Other than that, I don’t see myself finishing Famous Last Words any time soon. If I was going to finish it I’d take it down and rewrite it to make it fully OF.

What are your writing strengths?

Smut probably, I’m not bad at it. I feel like my narrative pacing is alright, and my prose is decent despite it being really inconsistent.

What are your writing weaknesses?

I rely too much on dialogue. I miss all the little body language bits leading up to an important line that could take it from an ‘aww that’s sad’ to a ‘holy fuck I’m sobbing’. Luckily I have wonderful beta’s who help me with this.

But more than anything, characterisation. Forming a fully fleshed out character before I start the story. I struggle with it. I’ve always felt like I’m more of a storyteller, (a plot person) more than a deep dive into a character’s psyche kind of person. I love reading character driven stories though, but I think it’s something that comes with writing experience. I haven’t actually been writing for that long and I think I’m getting better at it, but it’s still a weak point.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

I sometimes forget that people don’t like this. I LOVE it. I do try and use it sparingly though. It’s so nice to see a character conversing with someone in their native language. I try and put the English dialogue in brackets or italics unless it's rather clear what they're saying (like swearing).

First fandom you wrote in?

LITG

Favourite fic you've written?

I, like Sarah, absolutely hate this question. My fics are my children. I like some of them more than others, though (I never claimed to be the world's best mother). But I love them for different reasons.

I love Welcome to Racers because it was my first AU. I loved The Only Two Things because I got to create an entire world, an entire city for my characters (Yes I'm aware Waterford, Ireland is a real place but God, I loved that story so much). TT,IS was the first fic I started and it gave me the friends I have today and the amount of people who tell me it's S4 canon just makes my whole life. Jaded was something different. It was a challenge to myself and I'm so proud of it. Unhealthy has been the most difficult to write, but it's also pushed me the hardest in my development of characters. FLW has been so much fun because I get to dive back into my music roots, urghhhhhh. Love.

I don't care if it's narcissistic. I re-read my fics on a regular basis. They're perfectly tailored to my taste. I love doing a nice re-read and sprinkling in a few extra details with liberal use of the edit button. If there was someone who knew my fics as well as I did, they'd get something a little bit different on every read. Might just be a line or two, might be a thought or a reaction, but I love to add and tweak and tinker with them all.

Love.

tagging: @i-boop-you @crimswnred @ellegreenwxy @tammyisobsessedwith @operationnope @sparxaf @eskiix

[lumpyrock]

You belong with Me! (Mario Movie rewrite)

IDK, man, Wattpad's being weird so I can't publish this to AO3 yet, But here you go! Also inspiration comes from: @fermentedgutz @xpeachesxmushroomsx and @james-kay64 ! Thank you for the inspiration!

(Text on screen says "with my previous script writing knowledge (and the fact I run a YouTube channel), I present to you a Bowuigi thing,because of course.")

(Screen fades to black. Screen stays on black as Bowser screams into the void"Peaches!!!!!". We abruptly cut to Luigi sitting in his cage above the lava pit, staring dreamily into the distance.)

Luigi:(sighs) I wish that was me...

Penguin king: what did you say?

Luigi:(Jumping) Nothing! Nothing...

(An uncomfortable silence fills the room)

Penguin king: He's been singing that song for over 3 days. (Kamak screaming)

Luigi: Does the end usually have a scream?

Penguin king: unfortunately, yes.

Luma: they are the screams of lost and tortured souls!

Penguin king: we don't know that yet! (Pause) But that's a very likely possibility.

Luigi: oh, great... (a door slams somewhere) (He leans back and sighs, and then closes his eyes)

(Open scene on Bowser opening his eyes. He's sitting on his thrown talking to Kamak, who's hands are covered in bandages)

Bowser: should I give her flowers?

Kamak: it's really up to you, sire.

Bowser: yeah, but, she likes flowers, right? So if I give her flowers, she'll like me, right? (Pause) Back me up on this!

Kamak: oh yes, she'll most certainly adore you!

Bowser: (looking away) you're just saying that.

Kamak: no! She will adore you! She will fall instantly in love with you!

Bowser:(looking back) you really mean that? Like, genuinely?

Kamak: yes! Yes, of course! Yes!

Bowser: No, you're just a yes man.

Kamak: well, what do you expect me to say? That I am probably not the best person to ask for advice on this topic? No way!

Bowser: hey, that's not a half bad idea!

Kamak: the getting someone else to give you advice?

Bowser: yes! Now, who can I get...

Kamak:(kind of offended) well, someone who is smarter than me, knows more about humans than me, and has done more research into the topic than I have! But of course, who would know more about humans than me?

Bowser:(grabbing Kamak's shoulders) Kamak, that's it! (Shaking him) Who knows more about human women than an actual human?! (Letting go) I have to get him, I'll be right back!

Kamak:(to himself) did I just get replaced?

(cut to Luigi daydreaming in his cage)

Luigi:(sighs) what if I changed my name to Peaches? Would he like me then?Or could I just pretend my name's Peaches?

Penguin king: that is going to end in your very quick and painf-- (He slows down because he sees something)

(With the camera back on Luigi, we see Bowser in the background behind him.Bowser is trying to get his attention, but it's not working)

Luigi: I know, but a guy can dream! He wrote a whole love song for his crush!

(Cut to Bowser trying to get Luigi's attention from the ledge. In the background, the penguins are trying to warn Luigi about Bowser in the foreground. Luigi is paying attention to neither of them)

Bowser: what does a guy gotta do to get a guy's attention around here?

(Camera swings to show a control panel labeled cage controls. Bowser does one of those Chuck Jones looks to the camera)

(Cut back to Luigi, who is still gushing)

Luigi: if he wrote a love song for me, I wouldn't care who he was, his voice is that dreamy! (Suddenly his cage drops and he screams. He's only about a foot above the lava. He screams again when he notices it)

Bowser: do I have your attention now, loser? (Luigi quickly nods) Good, cause you're coming with me!

Luigi: oh no...

Luma:(screaming from off screen) hope you enjoy being dead! (Luigi slams his head against the bars)

(Cut to slightly later in Bowser's office (I think?), Bowser is in a tux,and we only see him because, well, you know.)

Bowser: Peach, I'm not a very talkative guy, so, I have prepared a speech.Love can really make a guy come out his shell. And, I really and truly love you. I have loved you since, well, I don't know when. As long as I can remember, really. I... You... My heart has broken so many times because of you, and I don't want to make that mistake again. You keep running out on me, and it hurts, really and truly hurts. So, let's not make that mistake again, and make it so we only have to do this one more time. Peach, will you marry me?

(Cut to Luigi in Peach's dress and a blonde wig. He has tiny little hearts in his eyes. He shakes his head quickly.) Luigi: uh, yes.

Bowser: Do you really mean that? Like, do you think she will like it? Was the pun too much?!

Luigi: No, it wasn't too much! I think she'll love it! It was... cute.

Bowser: You're really sure? You aren't Pulling my leg here, right?

Luigi: nope, no leg pulling!

Bowser:(stares at him for a minute before) YES! I am going to nail this proposal!

Luigi: Yay?

Bowser: Alright, off with you now.

Luigi: wait, what? (hard cut to him back in the cage with him slamming his head into the bars again. He still has the dress on.)

Penguin King: So, it went well, I take?

(The Luma blows a raspberry and pouts.)

Penguin King: Ignore them. So?

Luigi: Well, I got my wish.

Random penguin: Your name is now Peaches?

Luigi: No! He pretended he was in love with me, if only to practice a proposal for another.

Penguin King: Well, that explains the dress.

Luigi: Yeah, but it was all just pretend. He threw me out right after that.I just wish he'd wake up and see that I like him!

(Cut to Bowser at the piano. He starts playing a few notes but seems to be struggling with some creative block. He groans.)

Bowser: when did music get hard?! Just play some notes and you get a stupid love song! (He tries again, but it's not working. He looks like he's getting angrier by the second.) You know what? We'll just sing Peaches again!

(He takes in a breath to sing before the door creaks open. He turns with anger in his eyes.) Bowser: What do you want?!?!

(We cut to the koopa at the door. They shiver.) Koopa: Well, we're getting closer to The Mushroom Kingdom and...

Bowser:And? And what?! Spit it out man!

Koopa:(sighs while stepping inside) The Princess has recruited the Kongs to help help ward... (Bowser looks even angrier) us... off...? (They give a weak smile.)

Bowser:What?

Koopa:The Princess has--!

Bowser: I HEARD YOU THE FIRST TIME!! (The koopa winces) Send out the troops.Make sure they don't make it there.

(They stand in attention and salute.) Koopa: Sir, yes Sir! (they run out of the room.)

Bowser:(sighs) I guess I'm not going to write that song today.

(Cut to Luigi. He's just laying in his cage. He's quietly singing "You Belong With Me" by Taylor Swift.)

Penguin King: So, I heard we're almost there.

Luma: Death, doom, destruction, so close! (laughs a bit)

Penguin King: Shut up for the love of god!

Luigi: Oh, let the kid have their fun. Lord knows it won't last long.

(The Penguin King looks over at him with concern.) Penguin King: You okay?

Luigi: The guy I have a crush on just used me to help him propose to someone else! Short answer, no.

Bowser:(from off-screen) Hey green guy, you gonna shut up long enough for us to jam?

(Luigi's eyes widen. He rolls over so he's on his stomach.) Luigi: You're talking to me? You're asking me to jam with you?

Bowser: Less of an ask, more of a demand, but yes. I need ideas for songs to play at my wedding.

Luigi:(turns to the penguins. They give him nervous smiles and thumbs up.)Yes, of course I'll do that!

(cut to slightly later, Bowser and Luigi sit on the bench in front of the piano.)

Luigi: so... what was the mood you had in mind?

Bowser: Shows how much I've wanted her and for how long.

Luigi: Alright, what about the vibe? Should it be groovy or sad or happy?

Bowser: name a song and I'll tell you yes or no.

Luigi: uh... what about Uptown Girl?

Bowser: no.

Luigi: Okay, what about You You You?

Bowser: Already on the list.

Luigi: I'm Yours?

Bowser: No.

Luigi: Call Me Maybe?

Bowser: Hell no!

Luigi: Hey There Delilah?

Bowser: No. Listen, if you don't have any good ideas then I would suggest you--

Luigi: You Belong With Me?

(Bowser pauses.) Bowser: I've never heard about that song before. What is it like?

Luigi:It's a song about rejection, and friendship, and it's sad, but it's still upbeat.

(He considers this.) Bowser: Play some for me.

Luigi:Oh, but I don't know piano--!

Bowser: I'll pick up on it. Just sing.

Luigi:oh! Okay... (softly singing) You're on the phone with your girlfriend, she's upset. She's going off about something that you said, 'Cause she doesn't get your humor like I do.

Bowser: Louder, I need to be able to hear you.

Luigi:(sighs but continues singing louder.) I'm in the room, it's a typical Tuesday night. I'm listening to the kind of music she doesn't like,and she'll never know your story like I do. (getting more emotional and louder) But she wears short skirts, I wear T-shirts, she's Cheer Captain, and I'm on the bleachers, dreaming about the day when you wake up and find that what you're looking for has been here the whole time!

Bowser: (playing a lot softer than before)

Luigi:If you could see that I'm the one who understands you! Been here all along, so why can't you see? You belong with me, you belong with me.

(Bowser isn't even playing anymore, he's just staring.)

Luigi:Walk in the streets with you in your worn-out jeans, I can't help thinking this is how it ought to be! Laughing on a park bench thinking to myself, "Hey, isn't this easy?" And you've got a smile that can light up this whole town, I haven't seen it in a while since she brought you down. You say you're fine, I know you better than that. Hey, what you doing with a girl like that? She wears high heels, I wear sneakers, she's Cheer Captain, and I'm on the bleachers, dreaming about the day when you wake up and find that what you're looking for has been here the whole time! (He gets very aggressive) If you could see that I'm the one who understands you!Been here all along, so why can't you see? You belong with me!Standing by and waiting at your backdoor, all this time how could you not know, baby? You belong with me! You belong with me.

(He wraps up the song with a sigh. He looks over to Bowser, who is sitting mouth agape in pure "wow.")

Luigi: Did I do something wrong? Did you not like it?

Bowser:(shakes his head) Yeah, I'm fine. I think I'm going to, uh, add that to the list.

(They stare at each other for a hot minute before another koopa guard bursts in.)

Koopa guard: Sire, we're here!

Bowser:(broken out of his daze) Uh, yeah, of course. Well, I'll see you later after my proposal, green... thing. (He gets up and walks over to the guard.) Escort him to his cage, please. And, give him a pillow or something.

(The End!) (Hope you enjoyed, I sure did, and hope to see you after the sequel!)

[bropunzeling]

pls expound on linger, whichever scene(s) tickle your fancy! alternatively, contact high or better than before!

hi anon, happy to chat! fair warning that i am so sick and jet lagged lmao so coherence may be lacking but here's some Thoughts

better than before: this is one of those fics i wrote on my phone waiting to go into work meetings lmfao BUT i think i saw some like. ao3 tagbot tweet about ranked competitive sex or something and was like lol u kno who would do that. and then thought a little harder and really got into the like, hey, if u were a competitive freak with some feelings for a fellow competitive freak, how would you express that? especially if there hasn't been any talking about it, yk? idk, it was a fun little exercise of like, playing around with a ship that lends itself really well to needling and one-up-manship and all of that making the sex hotter but also being a way to get into a deeper connection! idk! sometimes u gotta write a lil something horny and mildly silly!

hmm something from linger i don't think ive talked about is the sequence with matthew having sex with his not-boyfriend josh (poor guy!). in structuring the fic i knew i wanted one early-ish scene where matthew would have heat sex with someone else, that the other person wouldn't be an alpha, and that it would be a moment to highlight some of matthew's hangups about himself and sex and dynamics without the horny bewilderment of leon around to muddy the waters. so i wanted to get some looks at how he feels about dating and sex; how he handles intimacy in the heightened time and space of heat (poorly! is the answer); how ready he is to deal with someone else wanting him as a whole person, including his dynamic (he isn't! and will continue to not be for a while!); all that good stuff. even some of the stuff like -- how he feels about slicking up/someone seeing him like that, the way he reacts to being kissed, his little moment of relief and resentment that some of heat he handles by himself instead of with a partner. and it was also a great way to show how matthew's blinders and hang-ups can make him selfish in ways he doesn't intend, but hurt people anyway (poor, poor josh just wants matthew to be open with him! and matthew simply Can't, and doesnt even see how thoroughly he's made it SO he can't). and it was fun to have the little undercurrent of matthew constantly comparing this experience to his previous experiences with leon, despite still thinking that whatever he and leon were doing is behind him. idk it was really fun to figure out how to manage this lil pivot point! poor, poor josh!

[anchoredarchangel]

thank you @anincompletelist for the tag on another new (to me) game ✨ you’re a gem.

how many works do you have on ao3?

eight!

what's your total ao3 word count?

142,413

what fandoms do you write for?

red, white and royal blue

top five fics by kudos:

Unsurprisingly, it’s the five parts of Alex’s POV of The Consequences. Actually surprisingly, this could double as one of the LEAST ideal reading orders possible, which is so fun tbh.

No Consequences (8.7k, E, Part 1) The Wait Before the Fall (57.5k, E, Part 5) Hope is a Five Alarm Fire (11.7k, E, Part 2) The Throne He Deserves (24.9k, E, Part 4) The Cosmos in His Palms (16.7k, E, Part 3)

do you respond to comments?

yes! people are always saying the loveliest things in there, I have to weep sentimentally back at them in return. it’s the circle of life.

what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

is it weird to pick your pwp as having the angstiest ending?? because my instinct is to say The Very Portrait of Temptation, just because it’s the most open-ended.

what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I’ve gotta say The Wait Before the Fall. Even if picking the only actual ending feels like a convenient loophole.

do you get hate on fics?

I have been very lucky in that everyone has been very lovely, which is a relief because I am not built for the internet.

do you write smut?

I am but a humble porn peddler who dreamed too big.

craziest crossover:

never done a crossover, only a fusion of rwrb + the m&g universe as a vehicle to, you guessed it, peddle porn.

have you ever had a fic stolen?

not to my knowledge!

have you ever had a fic translated?

nope!

have you ever co-written a fic before?

I have not! but it seems like fun!

all time favorite ship?

I think firstprince is the winner here in that they actually got me to finish (and post!) something. A feat. 🤍

what's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Oof. i pretend I do not see anything stashed in the Anchor Vault at current. We’ll go with that.

what are your writing strengths?

i always try to set a scene to be so immersive that anyone reading feels like they’re seeing it just as clearly as I am — and its so gratifying anytime someone tells me I felt like I was right there with them. this also applies to what I refer to as my 4K porn visions. I also received such a touching compliment for my dialogue recently (if you’re seeing this, i adore you btw) so I’ll put that here too.

what are your writing weaknesses?

I have never been succinct in my life so I do not end sentences rationally (@celeritas2997 can attest to the No Consequences one-breath challenge). I think sometimes I use too many words for things, but then I don’t cut any of them and add more. I’m also bad at math, though that’s more of a tangential personal flaw. also, generating an actual plot.

thoughts on dialogue in another language?

I love this, especially when you have multilingual characters, but I would be way too worried about getting it wrong when I don’t speak the language.

first fandom you wrote in?

supernatural, lmao not that it ever saw the light of day!

favorite fic you've written:

I treat the entirety of The Consequences like my baby (which I foolishly cut into pieces because I don’t know anything about the internet or childcare) but I could not choose a favorite part of my baby and okay maybe this comparison is falling apart but you get it

I have been adrift in and out of here so I’m not sure who all has already played, but @firenati0n, you’re up!

and also, an open tag to all you lovely people who want to play! 🤍💫

[covetyou]

20 questions for fic writers tag game

thanks for the tags bbs 💛 @mermaidgirl30 @whatsnewalycat @sp00kymulderr

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

23 - I cross post to ao3 just before I post anything on Tumblr, so almost everything goes there first. The only thing that isn't there is y2k and two dress up!Joel lore posts that are in fic form.

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

117,356

3. What fandoms do you write for?

almost entirely Pedro - a little bit of general TLOU if we consider honey, you're familiar (tess x reader)

4. Top five fics by kudos

something wretched about this

sleepless

first steps

baubles

just a taste

on Tumblr sleepless is my top fic before the first chapter of something wretched about this - I don't keep track of it after those two!

5. do you respond to comments?

I do! I'm a bit behind right now because May/June have been kicking my ass in every way possible, but usually they get answered within a day or two.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I don't write much angst! Feelings™ in general is not my thing.

the howler monkey is maybe my angstiest fic, but it ends quite fluffy. same as some good friend.

none of them really end too angsty! I'm all about leaving things vaguely good at the end.

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

the most typical happily ever after mush? jack of all trades and freeze-thaw. freeze-thaw's ending is quite cute now that I look back at it.

chaste also has a happy ending, just a very different one to a romantic feelings-y happy ending 💦 but you'll never see someone more thrilled than Dieter in that fic.

all of my fics do tbh, just not big I love you/happy families/grand gesture kind of happy endings.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I've never even had a slightly mean comment tbh

9. Do you write smut?

predominantly! everything except for y2k (not on ao3!) and my Dieter's PA loose series is smut. Dieter's PA is super fun to write because it often toes the line between almost smut and not smut at all. there's a lot of nudity and references to past sexual events, and it's the perfect place to explore silliness with Dieter.

10. Craziest crossover?

it's gotta be my carnal-val series. it's a circus AU with P-Boys each playing a part - so far we have Dieter as a clown and Whiskey as a ringmaster. I have 4 WIPs currently on the go for it, so hopefully more will be soon.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

thank goodness no. not that I know it.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

nope

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

no! I probably never will - I like to just finish and be done, and collaborating with a fic feels far more involved than my usual "fuck it, that'll do" process! I literally don't even get shit beta read.

14. All time favorite ship?

I genuinely do not have one 😁 I'm very easy to please and generally if you feed it to me I'll have a good time, so no favourite ship has ever really stuck. I generally don't care for romantic ships the same way most do.

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

I started a Marcus Pike fic over Christmas - I doubt that'll get finished. My OG plan for kinktober still needs to be officially scrapped (I wrote something wretched about this instead)

I also have a Dieter's PA WIP involving a coffee machine that 💀 I'm not sure anyone needs or wants to see.

not all WIPs deserve to see the light of day, and most of the fun is in the process of fucking around with characters for a little bit tbh

16. What are your writing strengths?

anything silly and slightly bizarre while somehow not being too out there. I think I'm decent at dialogue but honestly 🤷‍♀️ some days I'm shit

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

so many! I'm the vaguest amount of descriptive possible, with absolutely everything. not just because I write reader insert either 😅

18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

love reading it - will probably never include it in my own fics. I don't know another language well enough to do it alone and I don't want to bother anyone to ask for help. add that to my "fuck it, that'll do" thing and it's just not a recipe for doing another language justice 😁

19. First fandom you wrote in?

h*rry p. I wrote two oneshots as a teen. one involved people getting turned into chickens and pecking someone to death and in the other someone's little toe got stolen and eventually kept in a jar. so if you're wondering if I've always been like this, the answer is yes.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

I still really love best in show and some good friend. both were a little different to my usual way of doing things and I loved the result of both. I also really love the howler monkey - it opened up a lot more depth that I have planned for Dieter's PA, and I'm really excited about it

I have no clue who has and hasn't done this, but consider yourself tagged if you'd like to do it but also @strang3lov3 @beefrobeefcal @bitchesuntitled @corazondebeskar-reads toobif you're ao3 girlies.