#i don't even know what to tag this i spent five hours writing it and my brain is mush

[elumish]

In the wake of what's going on in the world, I see a lot of rhetoric that basically boils down to the idea that everyone has a responsibility to watch every bad thing that's going on in the world all the time. That awareness itself is a responsibility that everyone has always.

I'm not going to say that people do or don't have a responsibility to be aware of things, but I want to talk about how to take care of yourself and others while doing so.

For some context, I spent close to a year and a half reading about every terrorist attack in the world as part of my work on the Global Terrorism Database. It was 2015/2016, so this was the height of ISIS/Daesh, it was a major time for Boko Haram, and it was when there was a lot of political violence that we weren't sure how to classify in places like Yemen, Crimea, and Libya (stuff the GTD didn't know how to classify had all of is information recorded, and then it went into purgatory until someone above my paygrade decided what to do with it). What this means is that I was spending 10-20 hours a week reading about hundreds or thousands of attacks a month and, in my case, recording infomation about the type of attack and the type of weapon. Much of my life was reading terrible things.

Limit what you do in isolation. One of the worst changes for me during that time, mental health-wise (even though it was great for my commute) was when I went from working in-person to working remotely. With other people, there are ways to diffuse the pain. A burden shared is a burden halved and all that. That may mean talking about it, or joking about it, or finding some other way to engage with it that isn't just reading about the most horrible things in the world and then stewing in your own thoughts about them.

Find something to do that's totally unrelated. I highly recommend finding something to do with your hands, if you can (knitting, Lego, cooking, whatever), but regardless of what it is, you should have some time when you entirely switch away to something different. During a fair amount of my time with the GTD, I was also doing my undergrad thesis about terrorism on TV, so a huge amount of my life was about terrorism in some way. The only other thing I watched was Great British Bake Off, and I would just rewatch the episodes, over and over.

Be compassionate about how you share information and with whom. Use trigger warnings, and consider using consistent tagging on places like Tumblr so people can blacklist it if they need to. Also consider whether it's appropriate or necessary to share photos of bodies or other results of horrible violence. What is it accomplishing, to show that? Can that goal be accomplished other ways that don't require the equivalent of jumpscares of unexpected photos of dead or brutalized people? Are you just showing it because you think that everyone should have to see it? If you are showing it, are there ways to mitigate against harm it may do?

Do what you can to avoid an echo chamber. Sometimes, when everyone around you is upset or angry about the same thing, it just amplifies itself, and you all get angrier and more upset in perpetuity without accomplishing anything.

Work towards action. Watching terrible things happen for the sake of saying that you haven't looked away isn't as meaningful as taking action in some way. Write to your Congressperson. Donate. Do whatever is appropriate for the thing you want to stop. But penance via watching terrible things happen doesn't accomplish anything.

Recognize compassion fatigue and do what you can to mitigate it. If you spend long enough doing this, you start to lose context, and you start to become less able to have compassion about things. If you're reading about attacks with dozens or hundreds of deaths regularly, five can start to not seem like that many. If you're reading only about the worst suffering in the world, "lesser" suffering of those around you can start to seem unimportant and petty. Do what you can to mitigate that.

Be kind to yourself. You do nobody any good if you burn out. Look away, if you need to. Take a break. Do things so you can enjoy life, because otherwise you are just another person suffering in the world. Other people's pain isn't a hair shirt for you to wear.

[satorusugurugurl]

My Wedding Date is an Escort!

Summary: When invited to your best friend's wedding, you panic. One of the groomsmen, Toji Fushiguro, is your ex-fiancè. Not wanting to deal with probing questions and the embarrassment of being single, your friend Haibara recommends using an Escort! Taking a leap of faith, you book one my, the hottest one. Gojo Satoru is hot, sweet, and funny! The package deal! Men and Women pay thousands to go on a date with him (even more, which he doesn't do often). So when your request comes in, the desperation and pleading tone of your voice. Gojo’s heartthrobs, even more so when you tell him you don't want to have sex.

Pairing: Escort!Gojo x FAB Reader

Word Count: 5,115

Warning: cursing, apologies, fingering, handjobs, smut 🥹, fluff

A/N: Well everyone, we have one more part of this series. 🥲 But I plan on taking requests for our sweet, complicated couple! !! If you want to be included in the tag list, YOU MUST HAVE AGE LISTED! Thank you!!

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Seven Part Eight

“You want what?” Satoru stared blankly at you, blinking ever so slowly like a cat. Your words seemed to have short-circuited his brain.

“I said I want a refund.” your tone is stoic, “I am not happy with the services I was provided.” Satoru’s shocked expression twists into a wide grin as you stick your bottom lip out in a pout. “High-end escort, my ass.”

Satoru laughs, throwing his head back as a faint flush grazes over his cheeks. “Yeah? Not happy at all, huh?” His eyes dance over your features.

“Nope! This jerk got up and left me after I paid him.” You shrug your shoulders dramatically. “Not only am I out an ungodly amount of money, but I’m also dateless for this wedding.”

“He sounds like a class-A-asshole.” Satoru’s hand gently reaches out, cupping your cheek.

“Yeah, he was.” His heart flutters at ‘was’ instead of ‘is,’ an ember of hope flickers to life in his chest. “Then again, he said sorry, and punched the hell out of my asshole ex, so I guess he isn’t that bad.”

Satoru’s fingers are so warm and gentle against your face. His thumb brushed over tear-stained cheeks as he pulled you in, closing the distance between you. His forehead presses gently against your own as he shuts his eyes.

“I’ll make sure you get every last cent back.” White lashes life, pools of breathtaking blue peek through them, meeting you. “It’s the least I could do.”

“Cool,” you sighed, leaning into his touch, “I would like to use that money to take a few pastry classes.”

God, hearing you say that makes Satoru’s heart leap with joy. “Money well spent, not that you need it. Your pastries are the absolute best.” your hand reaches up, gently holding Gojo’s firmly against your cheek, not allowing him to move. He swallows thickly at the regret forming in his throat. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”

“How long did it take you to figure out it wasn't me after you left?”

“Maybe an hour,” he scoffed, his breath hot against your lips, “I honestly have to give Suguru the credit. He knocked the sense into my head.”

“Thank God for Suguru.”

“Yeah, he called me a fucking idiot.”

“Well—.”

“I know, I was the biggest fuckin’ idiot.”

Silence washed through the room. It wasn't uncomfortable in the silence, reminding you of the first night you two spent together. Things had been so smooth and natural with him, and they still were. Satoru hadn't believed you at first. He said some fucked up shit, but he had apologized for them. He had told you himself that he wanted to make your relationship work.

Staying angry and pushing him away would be too easy. You could quickly write this off as another failed relationship. Or you could do one of the hardest things a person could do.

You could fight.

Fight for what could be a relationship that only comes once in a lifetime. Fight for a future. You could fight to see this through, to see where it took you both.

You sat back, sighing dramatically. “I guess I owe Suguru a drink when you introduce us.” Cerulean eyes were the size of peas as your words washed over Satoru.

“What?”

“Or maybe I’ll take him to lunch for his help.” Heart thundering, you did your best to keep cool, examining your nails boredly. “Or better yet, I could make us three dinner. I may be a professional baker who works with confectioners sugar, but my curry is to die for.”

“S-Sweetheart—”

You grabbed Satoru’s face, pulling him as close to you as possible. “Toru,” The man stiffened at the use of his nickname, “you said what we have is worth fighting for. That you want to be with me.” You inched closer to his face, your fingers brushing over his cheekbones.

“I did say that, and I meant every word.” He leaned into your touch, his hands caressing your bruising knuckles.

“Are you positive?”

“I wouldn't have said it if I wasn't.”

“How can you be so sure? How will we make this work when you're an escort?” Dread worked its way through your stomach, settling over your chest. “I—I don't think I could just wait at home for you to come back from work. But I also don't want to keep you from doing something you love. You do it to help people; it makes you happy. I don't want to take that away from you.”

From the mere silence, you weren't sure what was going through Satoru’s mind. He just stayed stoic, glancing over you with an unreadable expression. God, maybe this was something he didn't want to give up.

What felt like an eternity of silence ended as Satoru moved. Your hands fell onto your lap as he ran his hands over your upper arms in smooth, gentle strokes. You had been so uncertain of what he would say or do, how he would react to your hesitancy. The way his crystalline blue eyes burned with a fiery passion told you everything you needed to know without the use of words.

“Sweetheart, I would rather fight with you than take on another client.”

His words felt like they’d stolen your soul. Your bottom lip quivered just as a trembling sob had your body shaking. Satoru pulled you into his lap, toned arms wrapping around you as you straddled him. His large palm stroked the back of your head as your chest pressed firmly against his.

You tried not to cry, but the relief was too much. Soft sobs vibrated in your chest as your head buried itself deep into the crook of Satoru’s neck, your hot, joyful tears staining his shirt. Not once did Satoru attempt to move you. He did the opposite, pulling you tighter against him, his fingers curled into your hair, stroking your scalp as you sobbed.

Those few words meant the entire world to you. The doubts and fears eating away at you like moths on cloth ceased to exist. They were replaced with a swarm of multi-colored butterflies that flutter in your stomach and heart.

You could make this work.

Pulling away from Satoru’s neck, you reached up to wipe at your eyes, but Satoru gently batted your hands away. His thumbs brushed against your flushed skin, wiping away the tears of joy. His touch, much like his words, embodied his affection for you. That sweet gesture made you want to cry more, but you were confident that all the crying you'd done in the last eighteen hours had dried up your tear ducts.

“I want to make this work with you.” Satoru gently cupped the back of your head. “Thank you for giving me another chance.”

”Thank you for apologizing.” You gently ran your fingers over the fabric of his shirt. “And for punching Toji, it was so hot seeing you get all mad.”

Satoru held you tight, flopping down onto the futon with a chuckle. “You thought I was hot? Imagine me coming back to get my sunglasses with my tail between my legs to see kitchen utensils being flung through the kitchen.” He took his bottom lip between his teeth. “Seeing you going feral, slapping and kicking at a man twice your size, got me all hot and bothered.” He nuzzled your neck with a very phony bad prono moan. “I’d let you hit me all you want; just tell me I’m a good boy when you do.” His lips peppered kisses up your neck before pressing against the corner of your mouth, winning a series of giggles from you.

“Toru, you’re crazy.” Your words held no heat as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Mhmm, I’m crazy about you.”

You ran your fingers through his hair before you pulled him in, kissing him softly. The tension in his muscles relaxed as he kissed back. His smooth lips gently moved against yours. Maybe your lips tingle because of the taste of his mint toothpaste, or it could be the spark between you. Little fireworks exploded over your lips, deep in your chest, and even further between your legs.

The same embers that had burned hot and bright inside of you last night began to glow red hot with need. Your hands roamed down from his hair to grip his shirt, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss as you turned your head. Satoru’s eyes opened, focusing on your face. The way your eyebrows knitted together, how flushed your face and chest were, and the subtle way you rocked your hips up against him.

He pulled back, panting heavily against your slightly ajared mouth. “Sweetie.” He breathed out.

“Sorry,” you released him, “sorry.” Now might not be the right time to lose yourself into passion. But before you could spiral into your thoughts, Satoru followed your retreating hands, gently holding them.

”I don’t want you to stop.” He placed one of your hands back on his shirt, and you instantly grabbed a hold of the fabric. “Just be aware of the effect that you have on me.” He took your free hand, pressing it against his semi-hard cock that was twitching to life in his pants.

A sudden burst of confidence took over you. Licking your lips, you gently began stroking him while you gripped his shirt as tight as you could. Satoru shuddered, pressing both his hands on either side of your head caging you underneath him. A string of soft, murmured cries of your name slipped through his lips as he bucked into your hand.

”You’re twitching so hard.”

”Can’t help it, a beautiful woman is rubbing my cock.”

Releasing his shirt, you ran your hand over his arm, gently grabbing his wrist. He perked up, putting all his weight on his left hand as you gently led his other past your breasts, down your stomach, before you pressed him firmly over your clothed pussy. “I'm twitching, too.” Satoru’s cock throbbed hard underneath your palm. “You okay?” an aching growl rose in his throat as his fingers rubbed circles around your clit.

“Y-Yeah, I think I just almost came in my pants.”

“Over touching my pussy?”

“No, it's because of you.” Your hips jerked as he increased the pressure of his fingers. “You're so goddamn irresistible. I want to please you.” fingers rubbed faster, his lips trailing down your neck in open-mouthed kisses.”I want you to call out my name, to make you cum so hard you think you're about to ascend.”

“Oooh, oooh fuck.” Satoru sucked in a breath as you slid your hand into his boxers. “Toru~ Feels good.”

“Yeah, it d-does.” He choked out, sliding his hand under your panties. “Fuuck, you weren't kidding.” Thick long fingers ran over your clit, spreading your slick arousal over the tiny bundle of nerves. “You’re so wet.”

You shifted, facing him, “I wanna try something.” Satoru nodded, kissing you deeply as you both tugged your pants and underwear off, followed by shirts. Once you were bare, you slotted your hips over his legs, resting your legs on either side of him. “This way, I can kiss and touch you.” Your words cut off as Satoru slammed his lips against yours in a starved, searing kiss.

You kiss his back, moaning and gasping against his lips. He used the opportunity of you gasping to shove his tongue into your mouth. His tongue searched for yours, wrapping and massaging it with his own as his fingers groped your breasts. He still tasted like mint, and the smell of musk overwhelmed you as his fingers gently kneaded you. His hands are so warm and gentle against the softness of your breasts; it's a bold contrast to the way his mouth roughly moves against yours.

He’s devouring you, making you melt against his body. You wanted to make him feel the same way you did, warm and fuzzy. You desired for Satoru to be desperate, like a thirsty man dehydrated in the desert, and you were his oasis. Reaching between your bodies, you rubbed your fingers up and down your pussy, collecting your slick over them. Hering the pitch change in your voice, Satoru followed your hand. The instant he saw your pretty fingers rubbing yourself, he growled into your mouth before breaking the kiss.

”A-Are you that desperate for relief?” Satoru sighed heavily against your lips, tongue flicking out, licking at the drool dripping from the corner of your mouth. “All you have to do is ask, and I’ll rub that perfect pussy~”

“I-I—oooh god,” you rubbed your clit in a short circle before dipping your hand back down, collecting more of your slick. “n-not doing it for my sake.”

”No?” Satoru nipped gently at your bottom lip, his hands massaging the fat of your ass, pulling you tighter against him. “Then please tell me whose sake you’re doing it for.”

”Yours.”

Before Satoru could ask what you meant, he jumped as you wrapped your slick fingers around his thick throbbing cock. His head falls back as you begin rubbing your hand up and down his shaft, jerking him off, using your slick as lube. Feeling the heat from your juices and hand had Satoru losing himself, just like you wanted. He melted, his hands shakily grabbed you in order to ground himself as you jerked your wrist up and down faster.

”Feels good,” He groaned out, his hand dipping between your legs, fingers finding your clit. “but it’s not fair if I’m the only one feeling good now.” The tiniest moan passes through your pursed lips; your eyes meet him as you try to focus on keeping your hand moving up and down over his cock. But damn, his hands were too talented, it was hard to keep up with him. “God, you’re so wet just for me. If it feels this amazing on my fingers,” His hand dips further, two of his fingers pressing their way past your tight entrance and into your dripping cunt. “I can’t imagine how good it feels to be buried inside you.”

His fingers curl, rubbing your spongy sweet spot. They massage it, not stopping as you cry out softly against his mouth, your eyes narrowing as you stare into his eyes. They were usually full of light, but with his fingers buried inside of you and your hand wrapped around his cock, they were full of dark, desperate desire. If you were to move a certain way or make a single sound, he would be inside of you in the blink of an eye.

Which wasn’t a bad thing.

His lips were on yours, his moans flooding inside your mouth as you teased the tip of his dick with your thumb. Rubbing the pre-cum beading at the slit around the red swollen tip. Satoru’s eyebrows furrowed at the intense pleasure, his thumb mimicking the same pattern and strokes of your hand against your twitching clit. It didn’t take long for you to start rocking your hips against his hand, chasing your orgasm. Noticing the way you greedily fucked yourself on his fingers, Satoru pulled back, watching your hips rolling against him, desperately chasing the high you felt coming.

”What a good girl you are, taking what you want, what you need. I fucking love that.” A deep sigh escaped him, his breath fanning against your lips. “I love it, watching you lose all fucking control, it gets me off.” His cock twitched in your hand, emphasizing his point. “If you make yourself cum hard, I promise you I’ll make you cum ten times harder on my dick.” Satoru feels your walls flutter around his fingers. “You like the idea of that? Your pretty cunt seems to, she’s squeezing around me.”

”Y-Yeah, I want you, Satoru, want to feel you inside of me so back.”

”Cum for me first, then I’ll be sure to give you everything you want.”

You press your lips messily over his. “You promise? Promise you’ll give me everything I want?” His forehead presses against yours, his bangs sticking against your sweet sheen skin. “Promise?” You whine out desperately.

”Sweetheart, I promise I’ll give you everything you want and then some.”

Those positive affirmations were all you needed to have you gushing over his fingers. You silently scream against his lips, eyes clenched tight as you rocked and roll your hips against him. Satoru takes note of how your lips quiver and the way your back arches, pressing your breasts against his bare chest. Noting the way you sounded, how pretty you looked when you shattered and trembled in his lap as your hand squeezed his dick almost too hard as you let the waves of your orgasm hit you one after another.

Watching you cum in his lap would be a memory he’d look back on on lonely nights. God, he wanted to cum with you, to paint your tummy white with his hot seed. But the urge to pin you underneath him, you fuck you slowly, was stronger. Satoru wanted to have you cum that hard around his cock. To watch as you lose yourself in pure bliss because you deserve to. God, you deserved more than that, but this would be a good start.

He fully intended to make you feel this good as long as you would allow him.

When you found the strength to open your eyes slowly, you caught a glimpse of blue. Satoru had you pushed back on the futon, his fingers sliding out of you. His lips gently roamed over your breasts, kissing the mounds before his hands forced your legs apart. “Please tell me you still have that party favor bag.” He breathed out over your skin.

”You seriously think I would throw my terrible cheap penis candy away?” Satoru chuckled, lifting his head to watch you snatch a pink bag lying off to the side of you. “You'd be right; I fully intend on throwing it away once we use the condoms.”

“I have to admit, knowing you won’t be eating penis candy makes me feel pretty good.” He opened the bag, pulling out the six condoms shoved inside of it.

“I’m not opposed to eating penis candy if it tastes good.” A white brow arches at you. “I mean, I sucked yours last night, didn’t I?” You smirk as he fumbles, nearly dropping the foil packages in his hand. “I clearly remember just how sweet you tasted. Although I may need a reminder soon to confirm.”

”Babe, please, you’re going to make me blow my load before I even get inside of you.”

You watch as he tosses the other condoms to the side before ripping open the gold foil of a magnum condom with his teeth. ”Oooh, right, yeah.” Swallowing hard, you gape when Satoru rolls the condom over his cock with ease.

He slowly pushed his hips against yours, grinding his cock over your entrance to your clit. “Do you remember what I said to you our first night here at the inn?” Your soft moans are music to his ears as he grinds against you faster. “After you told me why you didn’t need to have sex?” Right now wasn't the time you wanted to be quizzed over things he said four days ago.

“Haah, fuck—uhm, you said you hoped that I would be able to recover soon?” His cock head pressed firmly against your entrance. “Nggh, I—I can’t remember. It’s hard to think when you’re teasing me like this.”

” No, you’re right. I did say I hoped you would recover.” His tip pressed harder against you, making your legs shake. “But I also said I wanted you to be able to have the most mind-blowing sex of your life.” The world seemed to slow as the gentleness of his words had you blinking. “I never thought I would be the one you’d be with.”

Something about the softness of his voice and the way he lovingly brushed his thumb over your bottom lip had your heart racing. This moment felt surreal as you replayed that first night again in your head. How you had cried in front of the escort you had hired to be your wedding date. He could have easily pushed you away, cringed over your complicated past, or not given a shit.

Instead, he hugged you and stroked your hair as you cried. He listened to you and allowed you to vent. This man went as far as defending you, siding with you. Satoru had held you close, bringing a certain comfort to your life you'd never felt before. It was a perfect full circle.

“I wouldn't want to be with anyone but you, Toru.” Gently cupping his face in your hands, you pulled him down, kissing him as passionately as you could. The warmth of your touch and the brush of your lips against his own made Satoru swell with excitement before shifting into a calmness that worked through him. “I need you.” You gasped out against his swollen lips.

“Then you’ll have me.”

Not wanting to waste another moment, Satoru gently pushed the head of his cock past the tight ring of muscles of your entrance. You gasped against his lips, eyes wide as he stretched you. His ab’s clenched as he held himself back, giving you a moment to adjust to his size, as his lips gently moved over your cheeks. Only when he felt your walls unclench and your legs wrap around did he begin pushing back inside of you.

Satoru couldn't get over how tight you felt wrapped around him, how warm you were. He'd slept with his fair share of people, but this, the feeling of slowly slipping inside of you for the first time, was a moment he'd never forget. From the way you smelt and how your hot breath tickled his ear. The sensation of your finger scratching gently over his undercut would forever linger because he didn't want this to be the first or last time he buried himself inside of you.

No, he wanted you to be the only person he was this intimate with again. He could easily see himself feeling this profound, this drunk off of joy and excitement each time you slept together. Satoru wanted to only hear his name on your tongue from now on.

While you couldn't read his mind or feel the emotions that course through every being of his soul, you felt the same way. Being with Satoru like this just felt right. No doubt, no uncertainty sat at the pit of your stomach. Just excitement and joy. Like you were walking a tightrope without the fear of falling.

This was perfection.

“Y-You're so tight.” Satoru choked out with a laugh as he pushed further inside of you with a whine. “Oooh, so fucking tight, baby.”

“Y-Yeah~ you're so big, really big.” Your breath chokes out as he slides deeper inside. “Haaa-haaah.” You dig your heels into his ass, pushing him further inside of your tight heat.

“N-Nnngh fuck, someone's getting impatient.”

“I can't help it, I-I want it, I want you so fucking bad.”

Satoru grunts softly, his tongue flicking over your bottom lip before hems slowly pulling out of you. “I want it too, baby.” He slowly slides back in, angling his hips to rub perfectly over that sweet spot inside of you. “And I’m going to give you exactly what you want.” His tongue gently slid past your slightly parted lips as he set a smooth and gentle pace.

You kiss back softly, flicking your tongue over his as his cock fucks you gently into the bedding. Your mind is reeling, taking over every one of your five senses, from his taste and smell. How his groans and grunts sound in your ears. You could feel his muscles twitching as his cock slowly bullied its way over your g-spot before pressing gently over your cervix. But it was the way he looked at you that genuinely had your heart stammering. Satoru was looking at you with a certain softness as his face contorted with pleasure.

You whimpered as he smiled, planting kisses down your neck, gently suckling at it. Satoru put all the emotions in his chest into those gentle, tender kisses. Savoring the way you jerked and squirmed as he gently fucked into your cunt. He suffocates on the delectable addictive air that was you. You take his breath away with every tear-filled glance into his eyes; every gasp and cry is music to his ears. So, of course, he’s lost his grip of control. Grabbing both your hands, he pinned them on either side of your head, his fingers interlacing with them as he moved at a faster pace.

“Ah—hah Toru,” you squeeze his hands, “Satorru~!” Crying out against Satoru’s mouth, you squeeze your thighs around him. Seeing you this fucked out of your mind as he fucked his thick cock deeper inside of you, only had Satoru moving faster.

“Ooh baby~ fuck~ fuuuuck~ you're getting close. I can feel it.” He grunts through gritted teeth. “You’re squeezing my cock just like you were squeezing my fingers.”

“Mmm yeah, M’ close Toru~!” You almost lose it as he grinds into you, his hips rubbing over your sensitive clit as his cock massages your sweet spots deep inside of you.

His grip on your hand tightens as he hisses, cock throbbing. “Oooh fuck, yeah baby, make a mess, make a fucking mess all over me.” One messy kiss followed by another. “Fuck~! Fuuuuck, I'm close too, gonna cum inside your tight hole~!” Nails dig into the back of his hands as your pussy clenched and twitches around him. “Yeah~ your pussy is so good~ telling me she likes what I’m saying. You want me to cum, yeah~?” Throw your head back, and you cry softly at the coil forming in your stomach.

“Y-Yeah wanna, wanna cum together~! Wanna—-ooooh god fuck me!” Satoru watched your eyes shut, tight eyebrows knitting together. He grinds his hips harder against your clit, buffs of deep growls leaving his mouth as his balls clench.

“Cum on my cock sweetheart~ yeah~ oooh fuck me yes!”

“Cu—” A scream of unfiltered ecstasy cuts off your words. Satoru watches you as you squirt over his crotch and the sheets beneath you both. “Ah!! Haaah!!”

Your trashing and shaking drives Satoru up the fucking wall. He frees your hands, gripping your hips, lifting them slightly so he can continuously fuck into your g-spot. Your legs shake aggressively as you fist the sheets. Your body was vibrating, eyes watering as you cum for a third time, watching as clear liquid soaks Satoru’s hips before you see white.

“Haa, fuck~ fuck~ fuck—” his head tips forward, watching his cock disappear inside of your convulsing pussy. “Cu-Cummin!” He bit out. “Cumming! Cumming!!” He doesn't scream like you, but he roars like a fucking beast. “Graahk! Fuuuck! Fuck!! Take it! Take all of my cum!”

You’re so sensitive it almost hurts to have Satoru thrusting himself inside you. He doesn't stop until his hips stop moving on their own, and the condom between you is filled to the brim. Only at that point does he gently pull out of you, grimacing as you wince in pained pleasure.

“Are you okay?” he gently asks as he takes the condom off, tying it to throw it in the trash can near the bed.

“I-I’m so good.” You drunkenly slur, but you haven't had a sip of alcohol. “Oh my god, I don't think I've ever cum that hard in my entire life.”

You could see Satoru swell with pride as he headed to the bathroom. “I guess my wish for you did come true.” You can hear the water running before he comes back. “How was the mind-blowing sex?”

“Confident in yourself?”

“I don't mean to come off as an arrogant ass.” He shrugs a shoulder as he drops to his knees gently, wiping your thighs and pussy clean with the warm rag in his hand. “But I'm ninety-five percent sure I saw your soul leave your body.”

“Okay! Okay!” You sputtered out a laugh as he wiped himself clean before lying beside you, pulling you into his side with a satisfied hum. “Okay, the mind-blowing sex was—” your eyes trailed up to his face, “well mind-blowing!”

“Ah~” he blows against his trimmed nails, “way to go, Satoru~” and rubs nails over his pectoral muscle.

“You dork!” you playfully smack his arm, “that was so uncool. Like the uncoolest thing to do.”

Satoru was beaming with joy as he cupped your cheek, pulling you in for a deep kiss. You sighed, missing him back roughly before pulling away with a happy hum. “Still uncool?”

“Super uncool.”

“Worth a shot.”

You lay there, tracing shapes over Satoru’s chest. “Hey, Toru?” you asked, turning your head to study his perfect face. You were surprised to see him watching you, his blue eyes tracing over the curves of your body, to the way your finger drew invisible hearts over him.

“Yeah, sweetie?”

“What are you doing this Saturday?” You swore the man underneath you twisted faster than the speed of light. There was a certain glimmer of excitement in his eyes that had your heart fluttering like the butterflies in your stomach.

“Well, I did have this client, but I was dumb enough to cancel on them, so my Saturday is free!”

“Good,” you kissed the tip of his nose, “would you like to be my wedding date?”

“I would love to be your wedding date.”

Tag List (AGE MUST BE IN BIO)

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[thefallennightmare]

Miracle-one

(gif created by me, the fallen nightmare. feel free to use, simply give credit)

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Warnings/Tropes: forced proximity, slight enemies to lovers, slow burn, smut, angst, fluff, mentions of death, and swearing.

Summary: Reader is the merch girl for Bad Omens. It wasn't what she wanted to do with her life but when her mother got sick with Alzheimer's, reader took a job where she could to help with the costs. She thought it would be a one-time gig but the longer she was on the road with them, the harder she fell for Noah Sebastian; even if he wanted nothing to do with her. She needed a miracle to save her mom and her future.

Authors Note: Here we go! Tags are open if anyone is interested!

Tags:

"Mom, do you need anything before I leave?" I asked my mom, who was sitting on the couch in our living room.

Her eyes were cold and vacant as she watched the television, well tried to anyway. It didn't matter if she paid attention to whatever was on, she would forget in a while. When she didn't respond, I sighed and brushed the graying hair out of her face which caused her to look up at me, finally.

No hint of recognition in those vacant eyes.

"Who are you?"

Her words chipped away at the stone wall I had around my heart as I blew out a shaky breath.

"Y/N. I'm your daughter," I said while kneeling in front of her.

Even with my name spoken, my mother didn't recognize me.

It's been like this for the last six months since she first received her Alzheimer's diagnosis. It was farther than we would have liked and the doctor said that her health would decline fast. She forgot who I was one month after her diagnosis and the bad days were more so than the good days. From the second I woke up till the very moment I lay in bed for the night I spent the day taking care of her until recently. My job was going to pick up again which meant I would leave her for about five weeks.

I was terrified to leave her alone especially for that long. There was this great company that I can have a live in nurse take care of her while I'm gone but when I looked into pricing, I nearly had a heart attack. We did okay money wise. After my dad passed away a few years ago, he left us a decent cushion. The house was paid off a very long time ago which helped on the bills; except the medical bills.

Every drug, every trial, and every visit burned deeper into my pockets and now the overdue bill's kept pilling up on our kitchen table. My job paid good enough where I could fill our fridge with groceries and take care of the smaller things but even that couldn't help with the bigger things. I thought about asking for a small raise but the fear of having to tell one of my boss' why was daunting so I never did.

Which is where I was headed now. I had to help get everything ready before we hit the road for the tour. My heart fluttered knowing I would see him tonight.

"Y/N," my mom raised a brow. "I'm sorry, I don't know a Y/N."

I swallowed the lump in my throat then gave her knee a squeeze. "I should only be gone for a few hours. My phone number is writing on the piece of paper next to the house phone."

I pointed to the table next to her where said phone and paper was. My mom tracked it with her vacant eyes and nodded.

"Just watch your show and before you know it, I'll be back. Alright?"

She said nothing, merely watched the television, so I stood straight, giving her shoulder a squeeze and left the house. I wasn't the one to pray so instead I whispered out into the world my words repeatedly.

"She will be fine. She can handle herself for a few hours."

I walked into the large warehouse hearing laugher and voices carry which eased my worries of leaving my mom alone. No one I worked with knew about my mom and I planned to keep it that way. Davis smiled at me when I walked over to the large table he was standing in front of, a large array of shirts, hats, and sweaters lay on top of it.

"Think it'll be enough?" I asked as I started helping him fold everything into sections.

Davis shrugged. "It's always good to have extra than not enough."

"The new designs look sick," I said.

"Thanks," Davis smiled while bumping his shoulder with me.

While Davis and everyone else who worked for the band had important jobs, mine wasn't anything even close to important. The only reason I got the job was because Davis and I went to high school together. We weren't best friends but stayed in touch. He's also the only one who knows something is going on back home but never knew exactly what; which is why he recommended the job for me. He knew I was desperate for money.

I was the merch girl for Bad Omens and the vocalist absolutely despised it.

Maybe it was because I never asked him for the job or the slack that merch girls always get. They only have the job so they can hook up with members of the band. Which was the absolute last thing I wanted to do; even if he was breathtakingly handsome.

As if her could sense my thoughts about him, his ethereal voice echoed throughout the warehouse and my breath caught in my throat. I looked over my shoulder and saw him standing at the back of a large truck, the one where the merch and other things for the new tour will go.

The smile that graced Noah Sebastian's face brightened everything dark and scary in my mind for a few moments and I reveled in the way my heart skipped a beat whenever he was near.

"You're staring."

Turning back to Davis, I scoffed and went back to work of stuffing the boxes. "I am not."

"Are you actually going to talk to him this tour? Last one you barley said three words to him," he said.

"I would if he wasn't such an asshole towards me. I didn't even do anything to deserve the cold shoulder."

Davis sighed while letting a large pile fall into the box at our feet, a lot messier than the ones I had been packing. I gave him a narrowed gaze of annoyance, one he ignored.

"Don't take it personal. Noah is quiet. I'm sure if you tried to talk to him, you'd find out he's a great guy," Davis suggested.

"I'd rather chew broken glass," I muttered.

I'd work with Bad Omens and crew for about almost a year now and in that time, Noah and I spoke less than ten words to each other. While on the last tour, I kept to myself not knowing anyone besides Davis which might have put me off to Noah. He probably thought I didn't care about getting to know anyone else here; which wasn't true. I had other things on my mind.

Like wondering how I was going to pay my mom's medical bills.

"New designs look sick, Davis."

My shoulders stiffened at the deep voice, his scent filling all of my senses. I could see Noah out of the corner of my eye while I continued to fold the shirts and sweaters. His gaze burned into the side of my head before falling to the messy pile of clothes in the box.

"You're not going to leave it like that, are you?" Noah raised a brow.

I audibly choked on my spit at him blaming me for that mess.

"No, I was planning on leaving it like that. I mean what's the point of folding everything perfect when it's just going to be packed in a box," I replied dryly while holding up the pile of clothes I had been folding.

Something flashed in his dark eyes, the corner of his lips pulling up slightly.

"She does speak."

"Oh, fuck off Noah. I'm not in the mood," I snapped while giving him my back.

Davis let out a low whistle before taking the now full box of merch to the truck, leaving Noah and I alone. It might have been a bad idea snapping at him like that but it was true. I was dealing with a lot at home so the last thing I needed was bullshit from him.

"Did you break up with your boyfriend?"

The shirt I was folding fell onto the table at his words. Boyfriend? I didn't have one; I never did.

"I don't have a boyfriend," I muttered, fingers toying with the fabric of the shirt.

Noah hummed while leaning against the table next to me. He sat facing everything behind me while I stood facing the wall behind him.

"Davis didn't want to go out with you?" He pressed with a sly smirk.

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep my growing anger at bay. I already snapped at him once, I couldn't risk my job my doing it again.

"Davis and I are just friends. I don't think of him like that and I'm sure the feelings are mutual."

"Good," Noah nodded. "Because the last thing I need is you distracting someone on the crew because of a little crush."

My eyes snapped over to him, flaring with fury. "What is your problem with me, Noah? If you don't want me here, just fire me so you can stop wasting my time and yours."

With how much taller he was than me, even sitting on the edge of the table Noah towered over me as he leaned closer. His warm breath fanned across my face as I peered up at him. Even with my fury, my heart hammered hard against my chest with our proximity, something I hope Noah couldn't hear.

"Trust me, angel. You'd know if I was wasting my time with you."

He watched me for a few moments before walking away; him taking the warmth that cocooned around me away with him. I blinked long after he left, trying to let his words process in my mind. What the hell did he mean by that?

But suddenly, his pet name for me was the only thing at the forefront of my mind and I wasn't sure if I liked the way my body reacted to it; heat spreading from my heart straight down between my legs, core aching with need.

For the next little while, I worked alone finishing up folding all the merch and when I had four boxes stuffed full; I began bringing them over to the truck. On my way back with my third box, I saw Noah and Nick Folio standing at the back of the truck, laughing about something I didn't know. I ignored the way my stomach warmed at seeing the large smile on Noah's face as I walked past him up the ramp of the truck.

Folio noticed how I could barley see over the box and reached out for it.

"Hey, Y/N. Need some help?" He asked.

I let him take it with a small smile. "Thanks, Folio."

Unlike Noah, I spoke to the other members of the band and crew. I wouldn't say we were close but more than strangers.

"How many more do you have?" He asked as he set down the box next to the others.

"Just one. I can get it though, I don't want to distract you."

As the last few words came from lips, I made sure to lock my eyes with Noah, who was watching me with bright eyes, arms crossed over his chest. The way his eyes glinted with the setting sun almost made a smile break out on my face.

Almost.

Folio looked between Noah and I before letting out a low chuckle. "If you guys go the whole tour with this tension, something is going to explode before it ends."

I shook my head. "There's no tension."

"Right," Folio clicked his tongue. "And I play guitar for Bad Omens."

The sarcasm in his voice wasn't missed and with a sigh, I left the two of them back to whatever they were doing before I interpreted. The only tension, if there was any, between Noah and me was hate. He never liked me even from my first day. So why would I bother being nice to him when he didn't give a shit about me?

After the last box was loaded into the truck, I began walking back into the warehouse to see if Davis needed me for anything else when my phone rang.

"Mom?" I spoke when I saw the caller I.D.

Noah was walking inside the warehouse with Nick Ruffilo, laughing that beautiful laugh, so not wanting him to hear my conversation I held back away from them.

"Who is this?"

I sighed while pinching my eyes shut. "Mom, it's Y/N. You called me. Is everything alright?"

"Oh." There was a long beat of silence on the other line before some rustling came through. "I was hungry and wanted to make something to eat."

"NO!" I yelled into the phone.

Noah turned to look at my sudden outburst but I didn't bother to look at him, the fear of wondering if my mom turning on the stove filled me.

"Did you turn on the stove?" I asked.

"No, there's a note saying not too. Which is why I called."

I swallowed the sob that almost crawled out of my throat.

"Okay, good." I nodded. "I'm almost done at work. I'll pick up some pizza on the way home. You like pizza."

Another long beat of silence.

"Alright. I'll go back to watching my show."

"Good, I'll be home soon. Love you mom."

The line clicked off before I even finished speaking and I stared at my phone with a long breath. If she had turned on the stove, things would have been a lot worse. A few weeks ago while I was taking a nap, my mom tried to cook something and forgot about it, letting it blaze up in flames and when she tried to extinguish it, she burned her hand pretty bad. So since that day, I had a large note tapped to the front panel of the oven saying not to use it.

Thank goodness I did.

"Everything alright?"

I jumped slightly at the deep voice and quickly wiped away the stress tears that burned at the corners of my eyes before turning on my heels. Noah stood in front of me with his hands buried deep into the pocket of his black hoodie. My hands itched to run through the messy strands of his face but I held back.

"Uh, yeah. I loaded all the boxes up in the truck. Is there anything else you want me to do?"

His gaze took over my chest rising and falling rapidly with each deep breath I took and I knew he noticed the tears that gathered in the edge of my eyes.

"If you could-."

My phone rang again, interrupting Noah, and I apologized with a sheepish frown. When I saw the unknown number, I excused myself from him and answered.

"Hello?"

"Is this Ms. Y/L/N?"

"Yeah, who is this?"

"This is Chief Reynolds with the Los Angeles fire department."

My heart fell out of my ass and I stumbled out an incoherent sentence, forgetting that Noah was still standing behind me.

"What happened?" I finally managed out.

"We have a Mrs. Y/L/N here at your residence."

I rapidly nodded even though the Chief couldn't see. "That's my mom. Is she alright?"

"Well, it seems as if she tried to cook something on your stove and let the gas burn. A neighbor called in a strong smell of gas. It seems as if she had it burning for a while."

"Oh fuck," I groaned while running a hand through my hair. "Is she alright?"

"Yes, we tested her for any effects of the gas but she seems fine. We opened some windows to air it out. You shouldn't have any issues."

I spoke to him for a few more seconds before thanking him and hanging up. Fucking hell, she tried to cook something and damn near exposed herself to gas. I left her for two hours, how the fuck was I supposed to leave her for five weeks?

"Do you need to leave?"

I jumped, hand over my chest when I suddenly remembered Noah was still standing behind me. For the first time in almost a year of knowing him, I saw concern in his eyes as he looked at me.

"Uh, a small emergency at home. I have to go take care of it," I said.

Noah nodded. "Yeah, go ahead. Did you have a ride set up for Saturday?"

I cursed, almost forgetting that in two days we were leaving for tour. I needed the money but also couldn't bear the idea of leaving my mom alone.

"Yeah," I nodded. "I was going to ride on the crews bus."

"I hope things are alright," he said while motioning to my car in the parking lot.

"Thanks," I grumbled before jogging over to the car, not wanting to leave my mom alone for a second longer.

[pulisicsgirl]

spaces between us - christian pulisic

summary: Y/N and Christian's relationships has been strained lately due to conflicting schedules and minimal effort to spend time with one another. Y/N's plan to talk to Christian about it goes awry and drives the couple further apart from each other.

pairing: Christian Pulisic x reader

word count: 5.3k

warnings/tags: angst and arguing (but it turns out okay in the end don't worry), Christian is a little bit of a dick, Y/N is a little bit overdramatic, but also sickening fluff, Christian is a lovesick twat, use of the phrase "whooping and hollering" (I'm sorry, I'm painfully American), hasty proofreading (because I’m posting this at 3 am and I have classes tomorrow morning), and like one suggestive comment

requested: yes!!!

notes: thank you so so much to @chelseagirl98 for sending this request in!! I had so much fun writing it, and I hope it lives up to your expectation! I tried a little something new with the text messages, so let me know what you think of that! Also, I think this is my first time writing a fight/make-up fic like this, so it might not be very good, but I welcome any constructive criticism! :)

As always, requests are still open! Send any ideas my way! 💙

You moved quickly around the kitchen, juggling bowls and ingredients as you did your best to prepare a homecooked meal to surprise Christian with when he got home from training. It wasn’t anything all that special, and you weren’t a five-star chef by any means, but you were trying your hardest—and that had to count for something, right?

For the last several weeks, you had sensed a distance forming between you and Christian. With his busy life as a footballer and your inconsistent work hours, it had been difficult to find time to see one another. On the rarer days that you were home together in the evening, you were both exhausted, quickly finding something to eat (often some takeout delivery that you ordered online) before setting things in order and going straight to bed. You couldn’t remember the last time you and Christian had just sat down to spend time together, sharing a conversation with any amount of substance.

After a particularly bitter morning where the two of you had moved around each other in the kitchen and bathroom without sharing a word or interacting almost at all, you had miraculously gotten out of work early. Deciding that enough was enough, you ran to the store to pick up some ingredients, resolving to cook a nice meal that you and Christian could sit down and eat together. You hoped it would give you a chance to catch up after the last few weeks of simply living in the same house but not truly being together.

It took you about an hour, but you completed the recipe successfully. As you turned off the burner on the stove and began dishing the food onto plates, you heard the jingle of Christian’s keys as he walked through the front door.

“Babe?” you called out. You listened for his footsteps as they rounded the corner into the kitchen. He was looking down as he came into your view, eyes locked on something on his phone screen. “Hey,” you addressed him uncertainly, wiping your forehead from the heat that had built up in the kitchen from the hour you had spent cooking. Your voice cause his head to snap up to look at you.

“Hey, babe,” he smiled, glancing back at his phone quickly before he turned it off and shoved it in his pocket. He walked around the kitchen island and pulled you into his side, kissing the top of your head. “What’s all this?”

You couldn’t help but feel a little bit disappointed, hoping for a little more than a side-hug and a kiss on the head from your boyfriend after not seeing him all day. You tried to brush the feeling off.

“I made dinner!” you replied, a hopeful tone to your voice. You pulled from his side to grab his plate, handing it to him.

“Oh thank goodness,” he took a whiff of the food before walking to the other side of the kitchen island, sitting down in one of the tall chairs. He mumbled a quick, “thanks so much, babe,” before he began devouring the food swiftly.

Again, you tried to brush off the weird feeling that washed over you. You knew he must be hungry after a long day of training—they had even gone a bit late today. You tried to focus on the short expression of gratitude instead as you picked up your own plate, choosing to stand across from him, leaning on the countertop so you could face him while you ate.

The two of you remained there in silence, him scarfing down the food like it was his last meal while you just moved the food around the plate as you stared at it, still feeling uneasy.

You opened your mouth to ask about how training had gone that day, hoping to spark a conversation between the two of you, but movement from the other side of the counter caught you off-guard before you could speak. Having cleaned his plate already, Christian stood from his chair, stepping around it before he pushed it in. He moved to the sink, dropping the empty plate in. He walked behind you, pressing a quick kiss to your temple.

“It was really good, babe. Thank you.” He walked behind you, pressing a quick kiss to your temple. “I’m gonna head up to shower.” He stepped to walk out of the kitchen and down the hallway.

“Are you serious, Christian?” You felt the anger finally spilling over in your chest, the heat rising up your neck an into your face. You were beyond frustrated that all of the effort you had gone to had lasted in a five-minute shared silence before he rushed upstairs to shower and go to bed.

Christian turned back around to face you, eyes wide with confusion. You could see him obliviously wracking his brain for what he had done wrong.

“I’m sorry, I can wash my plate,” he spoke quickly as he took two steps back toward the sink before you stopped him with a hand on his chest.

“It’s not about the stupid plate, Christian.” You rolled your eyes at him, and he took a step back from you, surprised by the anger you were displaying. “I went to all this trouble to go get the ingredients and spent all this time to make a home-cooked meal, and all I get is five minutes and ‘it was good, thank you’?”

Christian’s eyes were still wide, taken aback by your reaction. “I’m sorry, it was a really long day. I’m just pretty tired.” The way he said the words made them seem like more of a question.

“You’re always ‘tired’, Christian!” You put air quotes around the word, feeling yourself get more and more worked up about the situation. You felt like now that you were finally voicing your frustrations, all of the emotions were starting to spill over. “You’ve barely spoken to me in weeks! We never see each other anymore, and I’m sick of living in the same house as my boyfriend, but never seeing him!” You began raising your voice without meaning to and you felt your eyes burning with tears. You mentally cursed yourself for crying so easily when you were angry.

“Y/N, I-“

Sensing another excuse coming on, you cut him off. “You didn’t even kiss me goodbye this morning!”

Interrupting Christian and not allowing him to explain himself was a sure way to irritate him, and it immediately put him on the defensive.

“Well, you didn’t kiss me before I left either!” He knew it was a weak defense, but in his frustration, it was the only thing he could come up with. “I’m not the only one in this relationship, Y/N! You could afford to put in a little effort once in a while, instead of just pointing fingers.”

Your mouth fell open in shock at his words, and Christian instantly wished he could take them back, not having meant them at all. “You are unbelievable, Christian. Unbelievable.” You scowled, pushing past him to walk out of the kitchen.

He grabbed your wrist to keep you from walking away, and you shook your head, pulling your arm from his grasp. “No, stop. Come talk to me when you’re ready to act like a half-decent boyfriend.”

You stormed down the hallway to your shared bedroom, slamming the door to the bathroom closed and locking it in case Christian tried to follow you and take back what he had said. Moments later, you heard the doorknob jiggle softly, confirming your prediction.

You felt the tears rolling down your cheeks as you glumly went through your nighttime routine, brushing your teeth, combing out your hair, and washing your face. You tried to ignore your red and swollen eyes from crying as you looked in the mirror.

Once you had finished, you unlocked the door and walked into the bedroom. You did your best to ignore Christian sitting silently on the side of the bed as you walked over to the closet and changed quickly into your pajamas from the night before, scoffing quietly as you realized that it just entailed one of his bigger T-shirts. Nonetheless, you slipped it over your head and flipped the closet light off, closing the door behind you as you exited.

Without a word, you walked to your side of the bed, pulling the sheets and comforter back, crawling in, and covering yourself up, facing away from Christian.

His heart had broken at the sight of your tear-streaked face before you had climbed into the bed. He knew that it was probably best to give you some space for now, so he stood to collect his things and go take his shower. You didn’t miss the soft sigh that left his lips before he stood.

You heard the sound of the bathroom door closing, then the rush of water as he turned the shower on.

You finally allowed yourself to let go, crying out all of the hurt that had built up over the last several weeks. You felt the pain physically in your heart, a hollow feeling in your chest—you were a part of a whole, missing your other half.

It didn’t take long for Christian to finish his shower, and you heard the water turn off. You tried to calm yourself before he left the bathroom, not wanting him to see you in such a weak state after your fight.

A few minutes later, you heard the sound of the bathroom door opening and Christian moving around the room. You did your best to silence your sniffles, but he still heard them, and he felt the painful cracks in his heart tearing open a little further.

You felt the mattress dip behind you as his weight settled into the bed. His arm appeared in front of your body for a moment and you felt him leaning over you to place a soft kiss on your temple.

“Goodnight,” he whispered softly. “I’m sorry. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you mumbled. As petty as you wanted to be, you knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep if you didn’t say it back to him.

His weight settled into the bed behind you, not daring to pull you into his arms. The light in the room disappeared with the click of the lamp turning off, and the two of you lay there in silence.

A thousand thoughts were running through both of your heads, but you remained on your side with your back turned to him. You wrapped your arms around your torso, attempting to hold yourself for some sort of comfort against the foreign feeling of falling asleep without being tucked into Christian’s side.

*****

Since it was the weekend, the sun was already peeking through the curtains when you awoke. By instinct, you rolled over, reaching toward the other side of the bed, but your hand only landed on the cold, empty sheets. You snapped your eyes open, finding no sign of Christian’s presence, and the memories of your argument from the night before flooded your mind.

You let out a long, frustrated groan, pressing your face further into the pillow. The uneasy feeling that you always had when you and Christian fought settled in your chest, and you spend a few moments staring at the wall, allowing yourself to give in to the self-pity for a moment before getting up to face the difficult situation.

A buzzing sound coming from your bedside table pulled you from your thoughts, and you rolled back over, lazily grabbing your phone from where it was charging. As the screen lit up, you saw that you had a text from Mason.

You dropped your head back on the pillow for a moment with a sigh. Fighting like this wasn’t doing either of you any good—you both knew it, but this was the main problem you two seemed to face. You didn’t fight often, but when you did, you both struggled to get over your own pride and make it up to each other.

You sent the message and threw the sheets off of your legs, deciding to make yourself a cup of coffee and try to wake up. The tiles of the kitchen floor were cold on your bare feet as you walked across them.

You placed your mug under the coffee maker and started it, leaning against the counter. The cold marble touched your back through the thin material of your—well, Christian’s—shirt and the feeling sent a shiver through your body. You tucked your arms around your stomach, trying to find some sense of warmth and comfort in the otherwise bitter morning.

As your thoughts wandered, you found yourself missing the mornings that you and Christian had previously shared in this very kitchen. Lately, you had barely interacted as you moved around each other, making your coffee and packing lunches, barely mumbling a few words to one another. But before all of that, when you had first moved in together, you couldn't get enough of each other in the mornings. You would always find yourself in his arms, standing between his legs as he leaned against the counter. His large hands would run up and down your sides, sometimes finding their way under his shirt that you wore to stroke the bare skin of your back gently. You would nuzzle your face into his neck, inhaling his scent while he pressed a kiss into your hair. The only audible noise was the coffee maker and the steady drip of coffee into the mug as the two of you waited for it to finish brewing. It was the perfect start to every day, and frequently you found yourself getting out of bed earlier than you needed to just so you would have more time to waste, wrapped in Christian’s arms. Even on your days off, when he would still have training, you would get up with him so you could share those brief moments together before he left for the day and you crawled back into bed.

You snapped back to reality, shaking your head to rid it of the daydream you had nearly gotten lost in. The lights seemed to be more dull now that you were left standing in the kitchen on your own, no lover to hold you close and share his warmth.

You rubbed your hands over your arms, attempting to rid them of the goosebumps that has risen up. Your phone lit up with another notification.

 Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion for a moment. It was then that you remembered—Chelsea had a game today. You sighed, rubbing your hands over your face in frustration with yourself—the game had completely slipped your mind.

Clearly, you weren’t completely innocent in the fact that you and Christian hadn’t been spending time together recently.

You grabbed the finished cup of coffee, pouring a bit of creamer in it before you hurried back up to your bedroom to get changed.

You turned the phone’s screen off, tossing it onto your bathroom counter before turning on your shower and stepping in. You tried to move as quickly as possible, hoping to make it to the stadium and set things right before the game began. You knew that Christian didn’t play as well when he was upset, and the last thing you wanted was to be the reason Chelsea’s golden American had a poor performance.

Plus, you selfishly just wanted to be rid of the empty feeling that came with any separation between you and Christian.

When you stepped out of the shower and onto the soft mat, having completely rinsed off, the room was stuffy and the steam had fogged up the mirror. When you checked your phone again, Mason had texted you several minutes before, right after you had jumped in the shower.

You finished getting ready in record time, running out of the front door with your hair still slightly damp, and you prayed that no one noticed how hastily your makeup had been done. You tapped your fingers nervously on the steering wheel as you drove toward Stamford Bridge, the minutes creeping closer and closer to the time for kickoff as you sat in the London traffic.

When you finally arrived, you rushed to the private entrance, sending Mason a short text as you walked to let him know that you had arrived. The face that greeted you was not Mason’s, but one of the security staff that you recognized from your many trips to the Bridge over the last couple of years. He greeted you with a warm smile, explaining that Mason had sent him to fetch you since they were already beginning to leave the changing room and line up for the tunnel walk when he had gotten your text.

The security guard led you through the winding halls of the stadium and up to the box where the family and friends of the team would sit together. You found your way into an empty seat next to Sophia, Kai’s girlfriend, and she greeted you with a warm welcome and a quick embrace.

When you turned your eyes to the pitch, your heart sank as you realized the players were already standing on the field, in position and awaiting the starting whistle. You realized you would have no chance to try to wave to Christian to get his attention before the game started. Unless Mason had told him, he likely didn’t have a clue you were even in the stadium.

You were, however, thankful to see that Christian had still made the starting lineup, despite his run-in with Potter earlier in the morning. But as the whistle sounded out and the boys began moving around the pitch, it quickly became clear that he wasn’t playing up to his usual standard. He seemed to be two steps behind on every play, making sloppy touches that would give possession to the defender. He was in his own head, and it was affecting every move he made on the field.

Sophia and you didn’t talk much through the first half. She knew how intensely you typically watched the matches, but she noticed how quiet you were compared to the lively and rambunctious cheering you usually brought on game day.

When the whistle blew to signal the end of the half, Chelsea was trailing, 1-0. With Christian on the front line unable to focus enough to make a proper play, the entire offense struggled to create opportunities, and the whole team seemed to be lagging.

You watched as Christian walked sullenly toward the tunnel, head hung low. You knew he was frustrated with himself for his performance so far in the game, and you resented the part you had to play in that.

Sophia, noticing the solemn way you looked at your boyfriend, knew that something was off. She draped her arm over the back of your seat, asking you about your somber mood as soon as your attention had shifted away from Christian since he had disappeared down the tunnel. You sighed and began recounting the former night’s event to her in a quiet voice, hoping none of the other family members in the box were listening in. You told her about how Christian had come home, barely eating the dinner you had prepared before trying to leave the kitchen. You told her about the foolish words you had both let fly out of frustration, stupid accusations that neither of you meant. You told her how you were afraid that you and Christian had lost your “spark,” that feeling of never wanting to let the other go that every couple felt when they first got together. You told her that you were afraid that you didn’t know how to get it back.

You hadn’t even realized you were crying until a teardrop splashed on your hand. You used your fingers to wipe carefully under your eyes, trying not to smear the makeup you had hastily put on only a couple of hours before.

Sophia opened her mouth to address your concerns when something caught her eye over your shoulder. You turned to see that the boys were walking out of the tunnel, and you waited impatiently to try to catch a glimpse of Christian.

When he finally emerged, Mason’s arm was slung over his shoulders, holding him close as Mason seemed to be trying to give him words of encouragement. His head was still hung low. Mason squeezed his arm around Christian, turning him to face the stands once they were standing on the pitch, and pointed in your direction. A frown creased his eyebrows as his eyes followed where Mason’s finger was pointing.

When his eyes landed on you, his face softened immediately, the frown vanishing from his expression. His eyes grew big, his arms falling to his sides as he took you in, wearing the blue jersey that he knew bore his name across the shoulders. Mason ruffled his hair with a grin, walking away to let him have his moment, but Christian didn’t pay him any mind, only focused on you.

You raised your hand, giving Christian a shy wave. The faintest of smiles curled his lips, tainted with a hint of sadness. He brought his fingers to his lips, blowing you a short kiss before he moved further onto the pitch. He walked backward for a few steps, still looking at you before he turned and jogged to his starting position for the second half.

Sophia drew the arm that had been draped over the back of your chair back to her side, nudging you gently. She had a grin on her face when you looked over. “Yeah, that spark is still there. Don’t worry,” she reassured. You covered your face with your hand, trying to hide the blush that you knew was covering your cheeks. “You’ve just hit a rough patch. It happens to every couple, especially after you’ve been living together for a while.”

“Really?” you asked hopefully.

“Really,” she smiled. “It happened with Kai and I, too. A few months after he transferred to Chelsea and we moved to London, there was about a month where we barely ever saw each other. It took a screaming match and then us both crying on the floor of the kitchen with a bottle of wine for us to get past it.” The two of you laughed at the story, and you wiped another tear from your face. “But we were stronger after we got through it. And you and Christian will be too, I know it.”

She took your hand in hers and squeezed in an effort to comfort you. “Just remember to be intentional about spending time together. Life will get crazy from time to time, but if you keep pursuing each other, you’ll be okay.”

“Thank you, Sophia,” you smiled genuinely at her. “You really give the best advice.”

“Don’t mention it.” She pulled you into a side hug, over the arm of the stadium seats. As you pulled away from each other, the sound of the whistle rang through the air, and the second half was under way. You took in a big breath, letting it out slowly and praying silently that this 45’ would go better than the first had.

In a matter of minutes, it was clear that Christian was a completely different player than he had been in the first half. He was positioning himself well to make runs, taking much more controlled and calculated touches, and beating his opponents to the ball. Chelsea had made several great plays, pressing up the field and creating several breaks that resulted in near-goals. The whole stadium seemed to be holding its breath, hoping that it was only a matter of time before one of the presses ended with the ball in the net.

It finally happened in the 54th minute. With renewed fervor, the back line moved the ball around the defensive half before Thiago played the ball up the field toward the left wing. Christian broke through the opposing defense, carrying the ball up the line with players right on his heels. With quick feet, he came up to the side of the penalty box, crossing the ball toward the center.

A hush fell over the crowd as the ball floated through the air, toward a mess of players from both teams in the box. You and Sophia leaped to your feet, along with the rest of the audience, watching as the ball landed at Kai’s feet. With a quick touch to settle it, he shot the ball through the maze of defenders into the top corner of the goal. The keeper’s fingers just missed the ball, and the entire stadium erupted in a roar of cheering as the net shook with the ball’s impact.

Kai ran towards the sideline, embracing Christian in celebration, much the same way that you and Sophia clung to one another, jumping up and down as you yelled and cheered.

As the game resumed, Chelsea seemed to have hit their second wind, the game-tying goal driving them in their desire to get another. Several chances were created in the following minutes, the crowd letting out groans at the barely-missed shots that held the potential to propel Chelsea into the lead.

You were starting to get nervous as the game approached it’s last 10 minutes, not wanting the game to end in a draw after Chelsea’s incredible turn-around. You anxiously bit at the skin around your fingernails as you watched.

In the 86th minute, as fans from both sides were beginning to get restless, Reece played a quick ball through the line, Christian sprinting to catch up with it as he broke through the defense and drove quickly down the field. It was a one-on-one between him and the keeper now. He approached the penalty box swiftly as the keeper came out to meet him, trying to force a mistake. But Christian kept his head about him, taking a calculated touch to curve the ball around to the right of the keeper as he dropped to the ground in an attempt to block the shot.

The ball bounced off of the goalpost and across the line. Once again, the fans erupted in a chorus of applause and shouting. Christian sprinted back up the field, coming to stand at the sideline in front of where he knew you were sitting. The rest of the Chelsea boys ran up behind him, embracing him or ruffling his hair in congratulations. Ignoring all of the chaos around him as his teammates whooped and hollered, Christian locked eyes with you, tapping his hand over his heart.

You raised your fist to your lips, pinky pointed up as you kissed your hand. Christian mimicked your action. It was a silly thing the two of you did that had started back when you were still only friends and continued throughout your relationship. You would link your fingers together in a pinky promise, kissing your hands, as a reminder of the promise you made to always be there for each other.

The boys pulled Christian away from the sideline, still thumping him on the back as they yelled in celebration.

The last minutes of the game passed quickly, and Chelsea fans voiced their approval as the final whistle blew, signaling the game’s end in a 2-1 victory for the Blues. The players and staff for both teams made their way onto the pitch, shaking hands cordially, offering words of congratulations to one another, and embracing their own players. You and Sophia moved down toward the barrier that separated the seats from the field, waiting where the boys would usually come to greet their loved ones.

It didn’t take long for Kai to come running over, leaning up to bring Sophia into a sweet kiss. They smiled at each other, sharing quiet words as she congratulated him on his goal. You saw nothing but adoration in their eyes as they looked at one another, and the sight warmed your heart.

Kai looked over to you after a few moments. “Your lover boy will be over here any minute,” he laughed. “As soon as he can get all the guys to stop hounding him for his game-winning goal.” You giggled at his words, eyes still searching through the mass of people for him.

Christian finally emerged, pushing through the crowd in your direction. As soon as he set his eyes on you, he ran the last few yards, arms outstretched to pull you into an embrace. Not caring about the layer of sweat that covered his body, you leaned over the short barrier, wrapping your arms around his neck as your bodies finally met.

Unsatisfied with the space left between you, Christian carefully pulled you over the barrier separating the two of you. You squealed in surprise before he set you on the ground in front of him, still holding your body firmly, refusing to let go of you for fear that you could slip away.

His face was buried in your neck and you brushed your fingers over his damp skin to soothe him. His arms still kept a firm hold on your waist when he pulled back to look at you. His eyes were moist with tears when as he gazed down at you.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry. I was being stupid, and I never should have—”

“Shhh,” you cut him off, cupping his jaw with your hand. You ran your thumb over his cheekbone as his eyes darted around your face, searching for any reassurance that the two of you were okay after the fight. “I know, Christian. It’s okay.” You saw the relief washing over Christian’s body as he pulled you into a gentle kiss, pressing his lips firmly to yours as he tried to communicate all of the things he was feeling.

“We can talk about everything when we get home, okay?” you asked softly, and he nodded, smiling down at you. “Right now, I just want to tell you how proud I am of you.”

The pink blush immediately painted his cheeks as he grinned sheepishly and hid his face in your shoulder. You giggled at his actions, knowing that he never took compliments well, yet you refused to stop telling him how highly you thought of him. You held the back of his head and felt him place a couple kisses to your shoulder before he stood up to look at your face again.

“I’m sorry I got you all sweaty,” he pulled the long-sleeved compression shirt over his hand, using it to wipe your neck off as you both laughed together.

“It’s fine,” you smiled at him. “You’ll just have to help me wash it off in the shower later.”

He raised his eyebrows, surprised by your suggestive comment as a grin spread across his face.

The two of you waved to Kai and Sophia as Christian took your hand in his, lacing your fingers together as you walked away from them.

He brought your intertwined hands up to his face, kissing the back of yours as you made your way toward the tunnel so you could leave the stadium.

[estiebestieban]

omg your tags were ABSOLUTELY PERFECT! you understood exactly what i was trying to say in my post and i truly appreciate that.

of course no one HAS to like esteban but whenever i see someone hate on him i just want to ask "why?". because pretty much 99% of the time their reasoning for hating on esteban is based off one of the narratives that has been thoroughly disproved, not just in my post (i don't think that highly of myself lmao) but in many testimonies over the years. i've even seen people say they don't really know anything about him and then just write paragraphs of lies to justify their dislike of someone they OPENLY ADMIT they could be wrong about! and if their whole basis for hating on a driver is based on a bunch of lies, then what's left once the falsehoods are deconstructed you know? (and if you're one of the 1% then go ahead - i can't stop you lmao!)

also i actually had written a line about how esteban's teammates, who have all been VERY TALENTED when it comes to getting the media on their side, have absolutely used this negative perception of esteban to boost themselves (i even had interview quotes from fernando and pierre at the ready and was trying to find some from checo) but i ended up removing it because i didn't want to be accused of using my post to hate on the aforementioned drivers. because of course my extensively researched and cited 1000+ word essay that i spent hours on and collaborated with multiple blogs was all written for a single line in which i "hate" on two drivers...

there are definitely times where i wish that esteban would play the media game and speak his truth (and i think he's actually testing the waters a bit with very reasonable statements). but that's not how he wants to approach things and i have so much respect for that. and considering all the team principals (including his very likely future team principal ayao komatsu) and other paddock members have vouched for him over the years, i think it was the right decision.

anyways sorry for another mini-essay in your ask box but i just wanted to say thanks again for your tags <3

You're so right for your post and you're always invited into my askbox for mini (or full length tbh) essays because you get it!!! (As do all other esteban stans I've seen on here cheers to like all five of us.

As a Dutch fan, the one question I get asked most is "Oh you must be a Max fan, right?" and when my answer is no, people go down the list of possible drivers I could be a fan of, but somehow they never say Esteban. When I say I'm an Alpine fan, the gut punch response is always "Oh, Fernando/Pierre, I get it."

While there is nothing wrong inherently wrong with assuming favourites, it's wild to me that even when I narrow it down to three possible drivers, Esteban still isn't even considered.

Even when I'm surrounded by major fans of the sport, the concept of Esteban having a genuine fan is foreign to people. I understand that most people around me view the sport through the lens of the Viaplay vision (and previously ZiggoSport) which favours Max to the extreme, and who couldn't give less fucks about other drivers. Esteban is hardly mentioned during broadcast, and when he is, it is always in a negative way (that's what happens when you take out the golden boy once I guess)

I've had this discussion time and time again, where I point out that Esteban drives in a similar style like Fernando - but where Fernando is praised for his balls and his attitude, Esteban is shoved aside as reckless and a danger. Where Max is hailed as the second coming of Christ, Esteban is deemed as a liability on track.

Why? Because he isn't considered charismatic enough? Even when he has countless fun and endearing interviews?

The media continues to cut Esteban out of the narrative wherever they can. An example would be people pushing the Pierre/Charles friendship for a dramatic tale of childhood friends turned competitors, but they leave out Esteban time and time again - like we don't have various images showing their closeness during their karting days.

Also, we forget way too often that Esteban and Max were rookies together in f3 in 2014 who both skipped f2 to go straight to f1. Only one of them won f3 that year, and it wasn't Max

[antimony-medusa]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers.

I was tagged by @regicidal-optimism

In no particular order:

A World Away (A Step Apart), (14,531 words) my OW superhero/supervillain romance with identity shenanigans, a dystopian world, and in-world supervillain RPF social media posts. This one was so fun to write. I've spent a lot of time on various social medias over the years and I delved into it for the fake discourse, and some of those social media jokes are some of my favourite things I've written. Plus I got to make up two guys that I love, OW is so fun.

A Hundred Things You Have Not Dreamed Of, (27,743 words), a DSMP emduo au in a vaguely superhero au about coming back from dehumanization. This fic was the one where I had to go holy shit I really do keep writing about food as healing I need to start tagging that on my fic, but also I just had a great deal of fun delving into, on the one hand, the hurt/comfort of expecting pain and not getting it, and on the other hand, the actual legitimate joys you can find in the small good things of a life you're choosing to live, even if baldly speaking it's not a great life. Like these guys don't know how to cook, and they live in a shitty apartment, and they have minimum wage food service jobs and don't have internet, but they also have friendship and community and 3 meals a day, and a laptop that can play videos, and that can also be something to appreciate. Plus it was a really fun challenge to take characters who basically don't act like the characters at all, because of trauma, and show them gradually growing into themselves. I still love this one a lot.

three deaths, no burials, one sunrise, (804 words). Oh boy. This one. DSMP, and c!wilbur focused, and second person, and inspired by a richard silken poem and a ursula vernon speech and a post about how wilbur didn't get a grave. At this point I don't even know if that's true canon, but I love this fic for how completely it took over my brain, I sat down and wrote it in one setting. Fuckin' pulled out of me like unspooling rope hand over hand. Having complicated feelings about your death and how it was marked or unmarked by the people around you, and exploring that through video game statistics, is something that can be so personal.

The Totem Of Undying Job, (62,696 words), DSMP, the syndicate heist Las Nevadas. So oh man, this was written in the era of the prison arc and you can probably tell, but I am still proud of how much I went into existing lore for the characterizations, not to mention proud of pulling off a long-fic. I keep thinking of it and going "man I should write more prey duo", or "I should write more tntduo", or "dang, beeduo slaps", or what have you. The first full and complete novel-length thing I had written in almost a decade, and I still think it hangs together, concepted and written entirely just me with myself in a google doc. The way I approach writing is very different nowdays, but I still love this one and I'm proud of pulling it off.

And honestly there's a lot of fics jockeying for this final spot, but I will give it to Soothing Natural Energies by Rebalancing External Wealth, Today, At Rekindled Flames Marriage Therapy Conference, (4,482 words), my origins sneegza marriage fraud shenanigans heist. I wrote this one in 24 hours for an exchange, and I was absolutely digesting my own stomach with anxiety the whole time, but I got it done, and then I posted and people said it was funny! And it had good worldbuilding! They liked it! And I drank some coffee and sat down to read it and went what do you know, I also like this, I think it's funny. Sometimes when I go oh god can I actually write comedy I go back to this one and I remind myself that yes, I can feel out how punchlines work. Also that I should write more origins, it's delightful.

tagging: @chrysalizzm, @imperialkatwala, @creetchure, @lennjamin-o7, @droidofmay

(don't feel obligated, any of you, I was just mentally paging through the people I follow trying to find people who hadn't already been tagged.)

[zenuloo]

Can you write a medium to long, friends to lovers ff about woo wonjae 🎀🎀🎀🎀

can't believe you're making me do this...

anyways, im staying true to my bio LOL so yes. its kind of rushed but uhhhhhhhh I hope its ok. it's more were-friends-but-i-dont-want-to-be to almost-lovers than friends to lovers I hope u don't mind..... I can write a part 2 if u want me to js lmk. ok I'll shut up now here u go. also im tagging u for SHAME @therealbobbyshloby

(1k words)

-------

The semester was ending and so was my patience. 

I still remember my first day. It had been a tiring day, the only physical outstand of my want to continue with it being a five-foot-eleven, blonde, basketball buff sitting at the desk in front of mine. I had never spoken to him, never even exchanged glances with him, but nothing stopped me from filling my boredom with scenarios of our future meeting.

‘You’re smiling at him again.’ Wonjae whispered from beside me, just below the volume that no one else would hear. I felt his gaze pressen against the side of my face and only hoped in a twist of reality that he would give up and turn away. But he remained unmoving, an irritation. Like always, he would try to speak to me, and like always, I had no desire to answer.

Wonjae was the only friend acquaintance I had made at college, though I didn't speak to him often, it was trusting to know he was there, despite his own large circle in which I had no interest in ever becoming a part of. And so, everytime he would try to indulge in conversation with me, I would murmur an uninterested response in hopes that he would leave me alone.

‘Shh.’ I couldn’t look at him. Not like this, not when I didn't know why he was yet again interfering with my longing at the man sat in front of me in class, the man he somehow knew I would do anything for a chance to speak to. And so I said nothing, only listened as he chuckled at my irritance and returned his attention back to the professor. 

When class was over, he followed me in confidence. We weren’t close enough to be together alone, yet I felt somehow comfortable in his unwanted presence.  As we were walking, I felt his eyes linger on me once more. Although, this time, I felt the need to know why.

I stopped walking. As did he.

‘What’s going on?’ I asked, warily.

His eyebrow quirked at my question. ‘In life, or…’ 

I'm not doing this, I told myself in reassurance, but my own mind betrayed me. I shut my eyes in an intake of breath and allowed myself a moment to calm before responding, but it did no help for my growing frustration. I dead-panned. ‘Yes, in life. I’d love to know about your life, Wonjae. I think it’d be really interesting for me to stand here and listen to you talk about your life for like an hour and then maybe we could go to a cafe and you talk about your life some more.’ 

The smile that rose to his lips was shortly replaced with a vacant look of displeasure.

 ‘You’re funny.’ He said, reproducing my sarcasm. ‘But seriously, what do you mean, what's going on?’  His eyes searched mine like floodlights, scanning for my answer between my features. I kept them stone, unmoving. I couldn't believe his naivety to question my question.

‘With you! You’re being… weird.’

‘Weird? By talking to you?’ He laughed again and the sound made my stomach sick as if it knew he was mocking me. ‘Is there something so wrong about wanting to be your friend?’

I felt stupid. ‘No.’ 

‘Then good. I’ll see you in tomorrow's class.’

The ignorance I had given to the pure innocence in his sudden closeness made me feel small, unworthy of his attention. He just wanted to be my friend. Yet something sinister still felt like it was bubbling below his intentions and I felt an urge to figure him out. An urge to understand why he kept trying to talk to me, why wanted to be my friend.

—

I spent the night scrolling mindlessly on my phone, photo after photo of students I hadn’t wished to learn the name of flashing up on the screen. My mind stilled when I laid my eyes upon a familiar trail of black thorns, cascading up the neck of a man whose face I had never truly studied before, despite my knowing him. He wasn’t as smug behind camera, wasn’t as teasing or intimidating when caught in still motion; I didn't feel the looming chaos that he could expose my crush at any moment, ridicule me for all my flaws. He was just a guy, uninvolved yet present. 

My heart subsided when I noticed the arm of the man beside him.

My class crush. 

They were friends.

My fingers stilled above the screen, sending pangs of indescribable shame to course through my body and send shocks that dulled my former attraction to him to substitute themselves for embarrassment. Wonjae would have told him. That's why he befriended me; to laugh about my crush with his friend.

Leaping to my feet, rage enveloped me. It was an emotion I had never felt before, humiliation; an emotion I had never allowed to form beneath the depth of my brain, deep enough to drown. This was why I never spoke to him, this was why my unresolved disgust for Woo Wonjae had settled so elegantly within me. But nothing had saved what I was trying to protect, stolen from within me - shame, pity, embarrassment.

—

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

I met him outside, prior to our class. I had to know.

‘Didn’t know I had to… You sure like to ask me questions, sweetheart.’ He laughed.

I didn't know how to feel, I didn't know if I should be angry at him for not telling me, or angry at myself for not asking.

‘Don’t call me sweetheart.’

‘Why not? Wish I was him instead?’ His laugh reached his eyes, curling up and forming dimples in between his brows. 

No. I wanted to say. I just want to speak to you without the fear that you'll taunt me. Why I want to speak to you, is a mystery upon myself.

‘Why didn’t you sit with him on the first day? Why did you constantly irritate me when he was right there? You could have sat with him instead’, was what I really said, concealed to me that this would be exactly where the truth would lie, waiting, waiting, waiting.  

He shook his head. 

‘You really have no idea, do you?’

I could only stare back.

‘I don’t want you to look at him.’

‘What?’

‘Look at me.’

Look at me. 

[cloudmancy]

i don't want to be mean or anything but like. the cr/t/cal r/le girlies in the dimension 20 tag are just sending me like, i just Knew these people be just all over this season and diving in and dissecting every little detail and speculating for the larger picture (of six episodes) (plus a season that's already been out for a year) as though people like. haven't been having to Sit with the Very, Very unfinished/untold part of the world of this campaign setting for Years already? (the Widely Established Fanlore of it all XD) although that's also been also been folding in the face of. all the colin posts (like Specifically colin too past even colin+raphaniel or colin+deli). like they fell for the cr bait so hard- group of fans starved for mlm content based on their typical cr diet, see a guy (Just Some Guy) looking the way he was, see his mysterious past and divorce and arc and glowup and post-divorce talks and. yknow. whaddya gonna do. that's all they're gonna talk about when the EXPLICITLY mlm radish priest who's been grooming that VERY SAME cheese guy for five years is right there.

anyways i'm going to write all that off anon and pretend i'm not deathly scared of invoking the wrath of cr fans after that thing on twitter

IT'S ACTUALLY REALLY FUNNY YEAH. gonna address the colin part first then talk about my problems with the season under a spoiler. listen I think deli & colin are very real in that deli wants him SO bad but it's crazy that people are dancing around colin's whole thing with raphaniel. like what do you guys think was going on there 😭 'he's his babysitter' SAY IT OUT LOUD! he was fucking that radish

now for my thoughts about the plot and pacing of ravening war

I do not like that this season (that was supposed to be about a war covering 7+ years of intense political conflict and full-scale warfare involving every country in the continent) got boiled down to 2 massive timeskips & 3 battle episodes of five guys fucking around in a cave because the entire war was actually started by a secret cult. there were no battles involving the actual war + 1 skill check for entire 5 years at a time + almost nothing politics wise + they missed the ENTIRE climatic final push for the end of the war because they were underground. it's so poorly paced, I really don't know what to say. am I the crazy one here for wanting a season about the ravening war to be about the war? it just doesn't feel like the characters had any impact on the plot past episode 3 and they ONLY because they kill the queen of candia because a cult told them to. because we get alliances forged and broken and conflicts ended and rulers crowned within the span of a single sentence from the DM before we chug back off to the mycelium hivemind main plot. hot take but every season does not in fact need a plot twist big bad to fight

all of the characters in the season are genuinely the most interesting characters I've seen in YEARS. it's a goddamn shame we didn't get to spend more time with them. it sucks that each of them brought so much intrigue and backstory to the war, but every single one of them ended up contributing not much at all to the scale of the campaign because, again, the final boss turned out to be a cult within the top secret cult of mushrooms that was ALREADY a secret but there is also ANOTHER, more powerful deity to fight in the very last episode. we needed more episodes, or less time spent on battles. we needed to not bring on a DM known for having all the time in the world to wrap up years-long campaigns in 5 hour chunks at a time, for a 6 ep miniseason. we did not need two more powerscaled deities for no reason to a war that should have been about the people and not... random alien eldritch forces. we needed closure on amangeaux's child, we needed to know WHY raphaniel was poisoning the king and starting a war in the first place. aabria wrote a whole essay about karna's backstory that I would've loved to see in the show itself, but... we didn't get to see it! there were almost no politics. we did get 4 separate secret underground mushroom fights though. in a campaign about a war.

"real life is messy! not everything gets wrapped up neatly! it reflects real wars!" this is a dnd show sir and when you spend 20 minutes out of 12 hours of content actually talking politics and the rest of the time fucking around with mushrooms in a cave, it starts to look less like a deliberate artistic choice and more like poorly paced plot threads that didn't get a chance to finish.

[boltlightning]

What things have you watched for more Davenport stuff, and what did you think about it?

I'm considering buying a DVD set of Smash, and see if I can watch 10 percent, The Wedding Date and Next of Kin online.

I've already seen Kingsman (not just for him), The Journey of Mary Bryant but have yet to watch The Talented Mr. Ripley.

lmao. the amount of time i have spent on this dude...i'm gonna put this below a cut on the off-chance this won't show up in the tags, but here, in an orderly categorized list, is what i've watched for this dude

i would recommend:

p.irates of the caribbean — lmao

the t.alented mr ripley — this movie is not scary but it is haunting. it will stick with you like carrion to bones. highly recommend

why w.omen kill — he and lucy liu steal the show in season 1, which is very good, and he's the narrator in season 2, which is less good, but still entertaining. this show is so so good. please watch it

the incredible journey of m.ary bryant — it's probably a whole hour longer than it needs to be but everyone is putting their whole hearts into their performances

haven't we met before? this extremely cute commercial with f.elicity jones — it's five minutes long. it's adorable. it's even a little saucy. he's got the smash-era hair without being in smash. very good.

the m.oth 1997 — this was very early in his career and you can really tell, but he is adorable, and the writing itself perfectly embodies that hokey, melodramatic period drama bullshit that i so love

e.roica 2003 — 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 THE 19TH CENTURY FIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

i wouldn't recommend, and he's not in them very much, but they're alright:

the m.orning show — check for triggers. he's only in the first season but he's great. and it turns into a soap opera in the second season on and not in a good way

k.ingsmen — justice for my guy. RIP

p.irate radio — b.ill nighy is great in this! jdav is in a gorgeous longcoat. but then there is the misogyny

a u.nited kingdom — gorgeous film, killer cast, oversimplification of history but very good for what it is. jdav leans into the sneering brit archetype so hard it makes you realize he definitely could sound more sinister than he already does, he just rarely drops his voice to the bottom of his register

i wouldn't recommend, but you may like them if you go in with more information:

s.mash — given all the talent on this show, it is baffling that it's so bad. jdav plays a genuinely awful man who is by far the most interesting character in the show, which means every conflict centers around him, and not always in a good way. watch this show to see jdav handsomely draped across furniture serving cunt alongside c.hristian borle and a.njelica houston and m.egan hilty and enjoy some of the the greatest musical performances ever conceived. ignore everything else. it is not worth your brain cells

the w.edding date — maybe the worst romcom i've ever seen? jdav is adorable and playing an atypical idiot. he has more chemistry with the romantic interest then the actual lead, to the point where i thought they'd end up together

f.lashforward — i enjoyed this show and will be thinking about it for a long time. it's a nostalgic 2000s 24-alike, but it won't be for everyone. his character is very sweet, which is a rarity and a boon.

g.uernica — i would rate this movie a c- but jdav's accent in this needs to be heard to be believed. also burn gorman is there. burn my beloved

you should not watch:

he was in a netflix western set in australia that was so bad i'm not going to bother looking up the name. it is GORGEOUS but you should watch this movie muted and with the captions off and you will inevitably come up with a better plot. listen to a little bit of his accent though.

don't watch smash. please god. don't do it. i know what category i put it in but don't do it. listen to me. i'm begging you.

i have heard good things about w.hy women kill and g.uernica though! and i've been trying to track down the m.oth, they've been on my list forever. definitely let me know about 10 percent, i have no way of finding that as an american lol

july 2024 edit: list has been updated. still haven't tracked down 10 percent <3

[songliili]

2023 writing roundup

i was tagged by @hgejfmw-hgejhsf and @rockyroadkylers!

i feel like i've spent my whole year writing, but i also know that i've spent months without doing it so i can't say how much it was month by month. but i posted three fics this year so like. that's an achievement!

let's see what we got.

January:

the great dean court off - Supernatural, 21.8k, M (chapter update) [someday i will finish it, i promise]

Of all the things Dean expected to find when he came back from the bathroom break, a folded piece of paper with "hey, if you’re not gay, my friend thinks you’re cute. here’s her number 316-557-9608 (and if you’re gay, here’s mine 316-997-2018)" written on, was not it. - Or the one where Dean organises a dating contest because he's bi and can't decide between two options.

September:

I Had Some Time (With You) - Supernatural, 23.9k, E

It's 2005 when things go to hell. Well. They go to hell for everyone except Dean, ‘cause he was ready for it. Well. He was ready for the apocalypse, not for the gorgeous man who fell into his life, quite literally. OR A Destiel rewrite of Bill and Frank's love story as shown on HBO's The Last of Us episode 3: Long Long Time that uses elements of both universes.

November:

we all have a hunger - RWRB, 22.9k, E

Alex’s journey of self discovery started one random night five years ago, when he was scrolling his favorite porn website to relax after midterms. He chose a video with the preview of two guys in the threesome category, thinking nothing of it, and came so hard he thought he was going to pass out. The threesome didn’t happen, the girl just sat there looking at the two guys going at it, just like Alex did. After that night, saying that the tall, blond and gorgeous actor with a fucking sinful shoulder to waist ratio didn’t do it for him was a complete lie, so maybe, maybe, Alex could be excused when he freezes up when said man - even more tall, blond and gorgeous in real life - stretches a hand toward him and says “I’m Henry, Pez’s ‘best mate of honor’, as he says.” with his perfectly infuriating British accent. — OR: Henry is a porn star, Alex is a fan.

December:

Fill My Stocking - RWRB, 6k, E

Alex has spent the past fifteen minutes talking with David about his favourite treats. Not that the dog answered, but Alex was undeterred and kept going, uncaring that Henry had asked him to give him an hour and then he’d join him in hanging up fairy lights and mistletoe everywhere. Very well. If Alex wants Henry’s attention, he'll have it. It's probably not what Alex thought he’d accomplish with his little scheme, but it's a compromise between Henry's needs and Alex's wants, and that's all that can be done. OR: Alex wants some attention and Henry has to get creative.

Upcoming in 2024:

part 2 of the pornstar verse (title undecided):

picks up the day after the ending of part one, it's alex's first christmas in london

Like Father, Like Son:

alex is a horse trainer and has a crush on arthur fox. he's the trainer on set for arthur fox's new movie (a queer western). his son, henry fox, visits the set and well. alex is fucked.

I hope you don't mind. (part 3 of the pornstar verse):

henry's bad days and how alex helps him go through them

Other things I hope I manage to put out next year (or at least start writing):

Your body is the Sistine Chapel:

what if dean was as tattooed as he was supposed to be? which tattoos would he get? for whom would he get them?

untitled airbnb fic:

alex travels to london as a reward for finishing college, and henry is his airbnb host whose dog likes alex a little too much.

untitled mandalorian!alex fic:

alex is the mandalorian, david is grogu. that's all i have for now.

untitled scarlet witch!henry/sword agent!alex fic:

inspired by this tweet. i have nothing more than this to give you atm.

i posted 62.406 words this year, and written many more. i'm fairly new to writing, so this is a real accomplishment for me. my biggest goal was to post a fully finished chaptered fic, and i did! then i started a series, and wrote something shorter than 7k, and i have so many ideas for future fics that i genuinely don't know where to start. i hope i manage to post at least a couple next year!

tagging: @affectionatelyrs @firenati0n @absoluteaudacitywrites @gayrootvegetable @leojfitz @anincompletelist @ssmtskw @littlemisskittentoes @cactusdragon517 @read-and-write- and everyone else that wants to join!

[ninjagirlstar5]

Dude did you know/read -2+2 before i started interacting with your posts here or did you heard of it from seing me ramble about it? Also PLEASE get your work done first! This chapter is enormous and i wouldn't want it to ruin someone's schedule.

Also I'd love to hear your thoughts on it, not necessarily just the trial it could be of the story in general, if you feel like rambling that is ^^'

Don't worry, I spent my entire morning finishing my textbook chapter and completing a video question that I could finish in like, five minutes tops. I even shut off Discord to focus. It took four hours of my day to complete cause that's college for ya, haha. :']

Yeah, I read -2+2 before we ever interacted on Tumblr! Ngl, I didn't realize the author was you until I scrolled through your Kizuna tag on your blog and went, "hey, wait a minute, I read this fic-!" As for my thoughts on it so far, I loooove it! I love how Kizuna is forced to face the consequences of her actions while Ayame is grappling with the fact that she was this close to choosing to kill someone to save another and that her motivations weren't as pure and good that everyone makes it out to be for saving Kizuna. I love seeing how different the group dynamics have become thanks to how everyone is split up: the majority of the students sticking together, Yuki being forced out of that group due to his secret note but ultimately forming a little trio with Akane and Ayame (and I think Kizuna and Kanata, too, but they're more focused on each other atm when it comes to her recovery), and the lone wolves of Rei, Tsurugi, and Kinji. It really shows how fractured the group has become and that everyone's opinions are pretty complex and different from each other's, even when they stick to one side. I have yet to read the trial as of writing this, but Kanata's death hurts to witness, especially with how...simple it was. I believe she didn't even struggle, she was just sleeping and now, she can never wake up because someone (Kinji) took advantage of that vulnerability and killed her. I'm thinking that Kakeru, at some point, seemed to have walked in and saw what happened, whether it's his attack on Kizuna or Kanata, and tried to attack Kinji or stop him or something but I'm not sure. But her death definitely hits harder due to how simple it is and we can focus on the tragedy that Kizuna will never be able to fulfill the promises she gave to Kanata, her first friend. And how her grief quickly transforms into anger...ooooough, that's so good and in character for her, especially with how hard she's trying to improve herself now. Also, can I just say, I love how socially smart Kizuna is with her words and how she was able to bypass the third motive just by being clever with how she says things. There are many different ways for being intelligence, so seeing that play out with a character that is trying to redeem themselves is great. Ayame is also just...doing her best while grappling with herself and the thought of almost actually murdering someone, but is trying to be supportive of the others. At least being able to confide in Akane allows her to keep going, and she gets to befriend Yuki! It's so sweet...until you remember the twists with these two, haha, gotta love that dramatic irony. Oh, if (or when) we actually get there, that angst is going to huuurt. </3

Anyways, I do love rambling. And I love this fic! (Totally off-topic, but I hope my boy Teruya is gonna be okay from the whole near death experience of guns and stuff. He's gonna be okay, right? Right? I hope he's okay. I don't want anything bad to happen to him even though I know that's gonna be impossible in a killing game genre although I know his survival is pretty much guaranteed since you mentioned that you don't plan to change the death order. Doesn't mean I don't worry for his mental health though.)

[jovenshires]

First and last lines!

rules: post the first and last lines of the last 10 fics you posted.

tagged by loml @baflegacy thanks darlin <3 im tagging @blondeforyou @hoohoobeanie and @lilac-hecox and also anyone else who sees this and writes fic and wants to do this xoxo (also only do it if yall want to always xx)

in another life (you still would've turned my head)

first: A lot changes daily around the Smosh office, but none more so today.

last (so far): But hey, a guy can dream.

i could go on and on and on

first: It’s dark inside the apartment tonight.

last: Comforted by the gentle glow of moonlight that they adore, they drift off, knowing that in the quiet sanctuary of the night, they’re finally home.

if we keep score

first: A bead of sweat drips down Spencer's forehead.

last: “Me too.”

we can leave the christmas lights up 'til january

first: There’s this Christmas Village in LA every year.

last: He could live with that.

blue christmas

first: Christmas in California comes quietly.

last: Shayne just watches him go, and wonders how just one person could make him feel so much less alone.

dancing on my own

first: Spencer Agnew has spent one full year studying different parts of Tommy Bowe.

last: “I’ve been in love with Tommy for about a year.”

sunflower

first: Tommy doesn’t mean to keep running into Spider-Man.

last: (Sometimes, though, they totally do.)

right where you left me

first: A light breeze comes through the open window.

last: He thinks, that if every morning can be like this, he might even become a morning person again.

‘til our fingers decompose, keep my hand in yours

first: Autumn has come to California softly yet swiftly.

last: Because it’s as simple as that.

i could be the reason (you don't sleep at night)

first: For the past hour and thirty-five minutes, Angela has had time to reflect.

last: And of course, Angela does exactly what Amanda asks.

[kangaracha]

i tried to goad people into asking me the ao3 questions like five times this month so i'm just gonna treat myself and answer em

How many words have you written this year? 247, 190

How many works did you publish this year? four

What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)? nevermore! and not just for wordcount either, though maybe a little bit because i've spent so much time with it. i'm just extremely pleased with the world building i've done and the complexity and depth of the plot and how i've gotten so far into it and i don't feel like i've become wayward yet, which is what usually happens even before i reach this point. i'm so pleased. i'm so excited to reach 200k and see where i'm up to and what's ahead.

What work of yours has the most hits? linger, which is funny because just like the ghosts it was about it haunts me

What work of yours got more feedback than you expected? to go beyond your borders, considering it's hard to get readers to come to something that's nearly completely original and it's just my silly little mental health fic, the audience that it gathered in the short time i was actually updating it regularly was really surprising and i love them

Favorite title you used oh lyre lyre for sure, i went to great lengths to ensure that title made a modicum of sense for that fic

If you use song lyrics, which artist’s songs did you pull from the most? hahahahaha stray kids all day. nevermore is skz cinematic universe so of course every chapter title is a lyric

Pairing you wrote the most for this year? so much gen fic, so little time. original fiction pairings.

Favorite pairing you wrote for this year? HMMMMMMMMMMMM from my original fic, leo/nes. they're funny.

What work was the quickest to write? queenmaker is the quickest to write, takes like an hour per chapter if that. in terms of strictly ao3 fics, lyre lyre was the fever dream of a few days.

What work took you the longest to write? well i started nevermore on the 4th of march and as of the 29th it is disgustingly far from being finished at 140k so i just don't know if i can say anything else. nevermore doesn't actually take long to write though really, it's just that it's a 300k kind of project. relevant to word count though, the unpublished pirate fic is actually probably the thing that's taking the longest, and my original all that is good/holy.

How many WIP’s do you have in your docs for next year? not counting every single novel i have sitting around, it's around 15, but a very casual 15 because i just go with the vibe to the extreme and with no intention to really finish any of them except like two of em

What’s your longest work of the year? hehe nevermore at 139, 583

What’s your shortest work of the year? apart from the cheeky 3 sentence fic the other day, overwinter at 1278

What WIP are you taking into next year with you? nevermore

What’s your most common “Additional Tags” tag? oh. Angst.

Your favorite character to write this year? hehehehe lee minho

The character that gave you the most trouble writing this year? Y/N for queenmaker

What’s one pairing you want to explore next year? more gen fic please, tired of romance. if i had to pick one, angie/raihan from to go beyond your borders

Which work of yours have you reread the most? to go beyond your borders, although i am about to start a full edit of nevermore which is uh no mean feat.

How many kudos in total did you get this year? 202

Which work has the most comments? nevermore by a mile

Did you do any collaborative works this year? you know what they all ditched me to collaborate on their own, and they didn't even post the fic. can you believe it.

Did you write any gifts this year? uhhhh yes, it isn't gifted on ao3 but lyre lyre was for rain and i believe overwinter was for zom mom? keeps? one of those two

Did you receive any gifts this year? yesssss i received neverwas from keeps for my birthday and it was really cool and if you read anything on this list honestly make it that one, it stands alone and it's really weird and vibey

What’s your most common category? Gen

What do you listen to while writing? liked songs or a specific fic playlist on spotify on repeat. usually kpop only these days but it depends what i'm working on.

Favorite work you wrote this year? nevermore

Favorite line/passage you wrote this year? oh my god. out of 240k? yeah no worries i'll just pull it up. um. uhhhh. uhhhhhhh.

Biggest surprise while writing this year? oh that i finished nanowrimo and that if i didn't work such a physically demanding job it would have been easy. if i had all my time spare in that month i would have done 80-100k, when before this year i couldn't get past 25k a month. realising i had that capability just sitting there was crazy.

[aquadestinyswriting]

A Circle None Can Break- Part Fourteen point five

Summary: Edwin has stayed up way past his usual bedtime for Selene to come back from the Cathedral.

Words: 784

Warnings: trigger warnings for drunkenness

Notes: a cute little aside that wouldn't fit into the main chapter. Don't worry, Chrackle didn't have anything to drink directly, he just happened to be in Selene's proximity

tags: @druidx, @sparrow-orion-writes , @homesteadchronicles, @warriorbookworm, @mariahwritesstuff, @writeblrsupport, @ashirisu, @thesorcerersapprentice, @blind-the-winds, @philosophika, @the-down-upside-finch

Edwin looked nervously into the pint he’d been nursing for the last two and half hours. It had been at least four hours since Selene had been escorted away from the front door of Fangthane, along with Meredith, by Captain Bloodvein. Gruk had happily informed Edwin and Snorri that Meredith had been returned home over two hours ago. What in all the hells was taking Selene so long? He jumped as Snorri collapse into the seat next to him with a weary groan, having thrown out the last patron of the night and finally shut the door.

“Tell ye what, I’m glad all that kerfuffle’s done.” he sighed, “As much as I appreciate the extra business, it’s a right bother at the end o’ the night.” The ex-slayer’s eyes narrowed as he noticed how much was left in Edwin’s cup, “C’mon lad, cheer up. Yon wizard’s fine. The king’s changed his mind, so I doubt she’s been chucked out now.” he encouraged. Edwin shook his head,

“I’m sorry Snorri, but I was expecting her to be back hours ago. What if Selene lost her temper again and is back in the dungeons after all that effort? What if –” Edwin’s tired mind screeched to a stop as the side door creaked open, causing his head to whip around just in time to see a sheepish Selene close the door behind her,

“It’s late, I know, I’m so sorry.” she apologised, “After His Majesty agreed that he would let Meredith help, we got chatting and we completely lost track of time.” Edwin’s worried frown lifted into an amused smirk as he took in the flush across Selene’s cheeks and ears,

“You sure it was just the talking that made you lose track of what time it was and not the wine?” Selene shook her head,

“Of course not! We didn’t have that much.” she protested. Edwin simply continued smiling at her as Chrackle fluttered his wings to try and keep his balance, bobbing unevenly from side to side. He nodded, getting up and looping an arm around her shoulder,

“Of course not.” he agreed, “Come on, bed. Even if you don’t need to leave first thing in the morning any more, it’s been enough of a day that you probably need to sleep.” Selene tried pushing the Abouna away, only to end up swaying right back into his arms again,

“‘M not tired though.” she protested, “An’ you can sh – shut up.” she slurred, glaring at Chrackle, who had finally given up on balancing on his mistress’ shoulder and had landed on the table flat on his stomach with his wings splayed out to either side. Snorri bit back a laugh, picked the bird up and gestured for Edwin to bring Selene up to her room,

“Ye might not be tired, love, but I bet you wish the world would stop moving, aye?” he said as the trio ascended the stairs. Selene nodded, squeezing her eyes shut,

“Mountains can’t go on boats… but this is an elemental. Has the mountain gone walkies?” she asked with a small hiccough. Snorri coughed to cover his bark of laughter,

“Wrong bit of the mountain, hen.” he said, opening the door of the room he’d allowed Selene to stay in. Snorri met Edwin’s gaze as the cleric hefted Selene past the dwarven barkeep and raised an eyebrow. Edwin shook his head, helped Selene onto the bed and got some water for her.

Edwin sighed softly as Selene groaned,

“I’m glad you and King Storri finally managed to have a chance to just talk.” he said. Selene grinned up at him,

“Spent the evening slagging off Sh – Schre –... bastard Chancellor and Sliverhand.” she hiccoughed. “Lots in common.” Edwin nodded patiently,

“That’s good. I’m glad you were both able to have the opportunity to vent.” he said, filling a jug with some water and leaving it on the nightstand. He pulled the sheets over Selene, who blinked blearily, clearly trying to stay awake,

“Edwin?” she said softly. Edwin looked down at her and cocked his head,

“Yes Selene?” he asked, voice soft. Selene beamed up at him,

“Thank you. You’ve done so much. You’re a good friend, best friend in whole world.” she yawned. Edwin resisted the urge to tuck the stray hair in her face behind her ear, opting instead for backing up and blowing out the lantern,

“You’re welcome Selene. Good night.” he called gently, already aware that his words had fallen on deaf ears as Selene began snoring. The Abouna shook his head, ignoring the pang of regret in his chest as he closed the door and walked back down the stairs to head back to his own lodgings.

[cboffshore]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

thanks for the tag, @fabrowrites!

Tagging: @basicallyjaywalker and, uh, I'm not really sure. NWOD buddies, if you see this, you're all welcome to hop on too!

1. how many works do you have on ao3?

Twelve! One is technically a mini essay collection and one is a poem, though, so ten proper fics.

2. what's your total ao3 word count?

122,397!!! Which is.... wow!!

3. what fandoms do you write for?

Ninjago. That's it. I don't really engage with other shows enough to write fic for them, and I think writing fic for IRL bands and such is weird as hell, so I don't that at all.

4. what are your top five fics by kudos?

Oh boy, let's see:

A Disappearing Act (Done Poorly) leads the race, which makes sense - she's been around the longest!

It Doesn't Take Much (To Cover Up Small Cuts) is a bit of a surprise, but so worth it.

The Splinter in the Blind Man's Eye: An Unofficial Revision . What a great group project. Too bad Tommy wandered off to work on Dreamzzz or whatever... This one is like a tombstone on my account. Or maybe a mausoleum...

Just Cross The Waters my beloved!

Coughing Up Feathers is one that I'm amazed isn't higher - kind of had a spike in activity when I updated OSSAS this year.

5. do you respond to comments

YES. I love to blabber. Please ask me questions!!

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

Elegy Above Sea Level isn't a fic - it's that single poem I mentioned earlier - but it's really the only work I have that ends on a purely bitter note. I don't deal in unbalanced angst, but I like this one. Goes down like a raw spoonful of cocoa powder, honestly, and I adore it.

7. what is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Oof, that's... that's a tough one. I would have to say Coughing Up Feathers purely because it's got a miniature "everyone laughs" ending that still makes me smile when I read it back.

8. do you get hate on fics?

No, and you know what? I wish I did, sort of. Maybe not outright hate, though. As much as I love opening my comments to find my readers excited for me, it does get a little repetitive sometimes. Peer review me in the comments! Find an inconsistency and make me justify it! Lord knows I've done my share of criticism (on Tumblr and Discord, though - I'm just nice enough to not do it in the comments) and I think it would be fun to get that energy back. Plus, spite fuels me! If you make me mad, you get more writing. Win-win.

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?

Nope. Never. I would rather eat pillow stuffing.

10. do you write crossovers? what's the craziest one you've written?

Not any more, but my very first fic from middle school was a god-awful triple hit of Star Wars (with total homebrew lore, all I kept were the lightsabers and Force tricks), Ninjago, and - get this - Lindsey Stirling. I abandoned it halfway through the Rise of the Snakes season installment.

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

Nope! That's the nice thing about focusing on an underappreciated angle - everyone else pays attention to the big, popular stuff, and only the people who would appreciate it even look twice at mine.

12. what's the longest you've spent working on a fic? and the shortest?

If I Can Think (Of Something Clever) took me about three months of on and off writing, plus LOADS of planning, so that's my longest! On the other hand, I wrote Wouldn't It Be Grand? (It Ain't Exactly What You Planned) in the span of a few hours.

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

Nope! Not sure I want to, either, although maybe someday...

14. what's your all-time favorite ship? from all fandoms?

IT'S THE MISFORTUNE'S KEEP. I don't do romance, not really, although to properly answer that I will confess that I do like Jaya enough to write it now and then.

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

I don't really have any WIPs in limbo right now, so I don't have an answer here? Either I finish a fic or I lay it to rest when the momentum dies. No middle ground.

16. what are your writing strengths?

I've been told that I'm very good at comedic timing and imagery! I love trying to paint the mental image of a room - sometimes I even do floor plans to help me out.

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

I worry that my action writing is a little too straightforward - I write like I had to when I was a stage manager, so my actions are VERY cut and dried. It helps me visualize better, so I'm unlikely to change, but I wonder sometimes if my readers get sick of it.

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

I've never done it, but I think it's a cool idea!

19. first fandom you wrote for?

Ninjago. I've never written fic for any other.

20. favorite fic you've written?

My favorite usually tends to be my most recent, so that honor goes to If I Can Think (Of Something Clever). It also breaks a few records - both in personal best fic length, and in the fact that it's the first fic I've ever seen that comprehensively gets to Nya's experience during e63 instead of just nodding at it during the aftermath. That entire series is fueled by that "be the fic author you want to see in the world" idea, because let's be real - there isn't a lot of Nya centric Skybound content. When there is, it's usually aftermath, but I want to see the thick of it! I'm doing my best out here.

[adverbian]

Tag Game

Tagged by @voluptatiscausa and @kotias! ❤️❤️

How many works do you have on ao3?

19!

What's your total ao3 word count?

81,653. Less 2,655 for BooB Omens (the bad porn crack fic collaboration).

What fandoms do you write for?

Good Omens, entirely and completely.

Top five fics by kudos:

Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea: Crowley’s been giving Aziraphale space to adjust to being on his own, finally free of Heaven. Now, a gorgeous American philanthropist has started hanging around the bookshop. Has Crowley left things Too Late? (Spoiler alert: There’s a very happy resolution.)

Is This Desire?: A smutty, sex-pollen meditation on desire and consent.

O You and Me At Last: News of one of Aziraphale’s past admirers has Crowley feeling a little… possessive.

one more river (and that's the river of jordan): They are alone now — they are free. They are both nervous, but eager, newlyweds. (My very first posted fic ever!)

In contenti e in allegria: Completely shameless PWP, honeymoon in Paris edition. With 69, galettes, and cheering from the peanut gallery.

Do you respond to comments?

Oh gosh yes! I love to say thank you and generally flail.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Oh gosh. I don't write much angst; my soft heart can't take it. I guess Revolver, a double drabble set in the late 1960s, ends with unresolved pining: "Aziraphale loosened the knot of his tie slightly, and swallowed. He wasn’t actually certain he could withstand The Firebird, not with Crowley so close. Maybe the be-bop had been the lesser evil, after all."

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

Oh lord have mercy. I think nearly everything I've written has been deliriously happy in the end, because of who I am as a person (and the fact that I started writing fic because I actually could not stand the heartbreak of S2 for one more second without losing my entire mind; I was genuinely not okay).

Set Me As a Seal Upon Your Heart is probably the longest, happiest, most glowing ending.

Confiteor may have been the biggest relief.

Do you get hate on fics?

I have gotten exactly zero so far. People have been so lovely.

Do you write smut?

I write a lot of smut. I have.... 3 T-rated works, 4 M-rated works, and the rest are E.-rated. I'm actually surprised it's 3 T-rated. I thought it was 1. I guess I wrote a couple of non-smutty drabbles.

Craziest crossover:

Lololol there is a very smol Lord Peter Wimsey crossover in a footnote to one more river. That is so far the only crossover.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

If I have, I'm blissfully unaware <- same as two prev....

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not yet, although I got (and said yes to) a request to translate Da Pacem, a sestina about Aziraphale and Crowley stealing hours to meet under cover of darkness to plan their resistance (and perhaps to engage in... other activities).

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Other than BooB Omens, no! (Which was an extremely loose and wild collab that just kinda happened one evening; I spent all of like 15 minutes writing a deliberately stupid paragraph.) I would love to collab more!

All time favorite ship?

Aziraphale/Crowley, always. I do not know why, but they have taken over my entire brain in a way that nothing else ever has. And I was there for Picard/Crusher, Mulder/Scully, and Buffy/Angel, which were a lot.

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

Hnnnng I really want to write one followup to the Auprès de ma blonde timeline, but it's so so patchy and poorly developed as of the last uh six months.

What are your writing strengths?

I am told that I am good at multi-sensory smut, and humor, and that there is a smoothness and flow to my writing.

What are your writing weaknesses?

I do not know what I am doing with any sort of complicated plot! So far, the most plot I have ever managed was a very very simple and short-lived apparent love triangle in Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea. I am trying to write more of a plot for a fic containing Leonardo da Vinci, but that WIP has been superseded by Event Fics for the last few months. It will happen!

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

Sure? I can almost do it if it's French (as long as I am allowed to look things up). (French friends, privately tell me how bad did I fuck it up in Auprès de ma blonde; I will sneakily fix it. I am sorry that I did not know you when I was writing it or I would have asked you to beta-read it!)

First fandom you wrote in?

Ahahahahaha, Baby-Sitters Club, if you count handwritten fic in a notebook that never saw anybody's eyes but my own. We're talking original-era BSC books here.

If you mean posted on the internet.... it was Good Omens.

Favorite fic you've written?

Oh gosh. I cannot pick just one.

Is This Desire? is probably the one that I feel the most accomplished about.

O You and Me At Last has what might be my favorite smut scene.

Exsultet was probably the one that took the most effort to write -- I still have a completely-different alternate version in WIPs that is getting closer to seeing the light of day.

And my newest fic, Gibraltar May Tumble, is probably the most I have ever had to trust the process while writing; it started out so larval and had to go through a whole metamorphosis.

Gosh I don't even know who to tag that hasn't already played. Er, @onedappercat, @wingsofopal, ???