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glowingbadger · 3 years

Note

Can I get a nsfw fic for Diluc where he and reader are vigilantes together? I feel like that would be hot af.

Oh-ho~ what a delightful concept, Friend Anon.

I feel like I've barely had time for fic-style stuff rather than headcanon stuff lately, so forgive me if this is like... idk.. less good xD I hope it's good idk agopwgj

Side note, y'all Genshin people tend to blow up my page every time I post something in this fandom but I get SO few actual requests for it, wtf is up with that

Diluc x GN Reader - vigilantes

NSFW 18+

There aren't many of your typical "dark back alleys" in Mondstadt, but they are there if you go looking for them. If you do, you're sure to make some friends and acquaintances of the sort who also go looking for such tucked away places. And tonight, you're expecting a meeting with a coworker.

You've been tracking a particular Treasure Hoarder for weeks now. He's a cut-throat sort, in that he literally cuts throats, and quite gleefully at that. He's scum, but he's a valuable asset. He's the only Treasure Hoarder idiotic and brave enough to have set foot inside of Mondstadt's walls as of late, and you're not about to lose the opportunity to track him back to his hive. And it shouldn't be too difficult to do so- as long as a certain "Darknight Hero" doesn't decide to step in.

Somehow, you have a feeling he will.

And as you crouch atop the sloping roof of a typical Mondstadt residence, observing your pet rat scurrying through alleyways he clearly doesn't know as well as he ought to by now, you glimpse a familiar flash of red. Moving as quickly as one can with a sword that matches his height while retaining some measure of stealth, Diluc clearly has your subject in his sights. You barely contain a sigh, your brow lowered in flat exasperation.

You'll have to act quickly- Diluc is rapidly closing in on your only source of intel, blade at the ready and eyes devoid of mercy. Never taking your eyes from his dark silhouette in the alley below, you gracefully maneuver from the roof to a nearby balcony banister, then down a railing. Your feet meet the stone pavement silently just as muscles flex and the greatsword hefts into the air above a fiery mane of hair. Without a sound, you draw your own blade and press it firmly to Diluc's throat. He hesitates for just a moment, his surprise causing his footing to waver for the instant you need to tug him back against the wall.

"You-" he hisses with fury in his eyes, "What are you doing?!"

"Keeping you from killing my only lead!" you shout-whisper back to him as the Treasure Hoarder slides around the corner and into the open streets. He's a lost cause now- acting out in the open would draw unacceptable attention to both you and Diluc. For now, the edge of your sword indents his skin, emphasizing the unfortunately seductive sight of his adams apple bobbing as he swallows hard.

"He's a killer." he spits out bitterly.

"Yes," you reply, "And so are all of his friends. And the only way to snuff them all out is to let him live- for now."

His weapon vanishes for the time being, but you know his strength well enough to know that this does not make him 'unarmed.'

"Go join the Knights if you enjoy wasting time so much."

"Oh, perhaps I should," you say, "It was a Knight who gave me the intel to track this target, after all," the playful lilt in your voice guides him to the exact conclusion you want him to reach. What you don't expect is for Diluc to use his considerable strength to spin you back against the wall, jostling your sword from your hand and swapping your positions, with your wrists now pinned to the plaster behind you. You're startled for a moment- but not so much so that you miss the way his eyes scan your body before him.

"It was a strutting peacock that needs its beak removed, more like," he says, his voice low as he looms over you. Your bodies are so close, the space between you seems charged with electricity.

"Is that a touch of jealousy I hear?"

"You're infuriating," he gives this utter non-answer just before his lips reach yours. His kiss is deep and intense from the start, pressing you to the wall as his tongue thrusts into your mouth.

This has always been your favorite way to vent your mutual frustration. There's something about each of you that only the other knows; a part of you both that only the two of you have access to. Those cordoned off sections of your hearts instinctively reach toward one another, binding you and the Darknight Hero together despite all of the myriad ways you find yourselves at odds. Adrenaline and emotion drives your bodies together, and your pulse pounds as his tongue wrestles yours and the warmth of his body catches yours on fire.

You do your best to keep up with Diluc's frenzied need, parted lips working rhythmically against his, yet you can feel the rush of arousal through your body and the fight leaves you almost instantly. In one final act of provocation, you urge your thigh between his, rubbing it gently against the growing heat you feel there. His cock twitches with interest, hardening against the front of his pants. Diluc groans into your kiss, his hands releasing yours to travel down the contours of your sides.

When those strong hands reach your backside, they shamelessly grab at your curves, pulling you firmly against him and encouraging your thighs around his hips. Your feet are barely touching the ground anymore, and you can feel his growing cock grinding into your heat. His impatience is as evident in his touch as it's always been in his fighting style; though, the difference is that now, you're happy to match his pace. Thoroughly trapped between his body and the wall, your hands run across his chest, happily indulging in the plains of muscle beneath conservative clothing.

Then, you nip at his bottom lip, dragging it between your teeth and revelling in the husky groan this pulls from him. His hips sway against you, rubbing the head of his now rock-hard member against you. Quite suddenly, his hands leave your body, then instead, cup both sides of your face. Diluc holds you in place as he kisses you so hard and deep that your legs tremble and you worry your knees may give. And at last, the airy moan you offer him in reply seems to break the last of his restraint.

"Towards the wall," his urgent whisper grazes your skin, and it's all you can do to keep from moaning at the intoxicating, masculine tenor of his voice. Instead, you obey him, turning to the wall, only to feel him pinning you once more from behind. His lips are at your ear, his tongue tracing its curve, until he says softly,

"Truly a shame you can't always be this cooperative."

"I- I'm very cooperative when it gets me what I want..." you half-moan as his lips press heated kisses down the side of your neck. His fevered touch is everywhere, running up your sides to caress your chest, fingers briefly circling your nipples and causing you to arch against him.

"One day I'll make you beg for it." he muses softly, less like any 'dirty talk' you've ever heard, and far more like he's scolding you. Either way, it sends a hot wave of arousal plunging to your core. With a soft whimper, you urge your ass back against him, grinding onto the stiff length of his cock. Tonight won't be the night you beg, but you do need to show him how badly you want him- and he graciously complies.

Diluc's thumbs hook into the hem of your breeches and tug them down over the curve of your ass. Despite his own wants and needs, he does pause to appreciate the sight of you offering yourself to him, lower body exposed and face flushed when you glance over your shoulder at him. A single large hand runs over your backside, cupping and grabbing at it idly, enjoying the sight of your flesh over-filling his grip. Then, with a low hum, his eyes meet yours as he opens the front of his trousers and reveals his thick, twitching manhood to you. It's dark and veined, a powerful, masculine member that practically makes your mouth water- and you can't stifle an eager whine as he positions himself behind you once more.

The warm head of his cock presses to your greedy little hole, and Diluc wastes no time pushing himself steadily into you. With each inch, he splits you open around him, and your body tenses and arches against his strong frame.

"Diluc..!" you gasp out the moment he's buried into you to the base and his tip hits your core. Sometimes you think you'll never truly be accustomed to how fully he fills you.

"Quiet," he whispers harshly, though the way the full length of his cock swells at your cry tells him he quite enjoys hearing you. Yet as his hips begin to move and the veins and contours of his cock grind against your inner walls, it becomes harder and harder to keep your voice down. He feels too incredible, reaches too deep, stretches you out so nicely around him until you fit him perfectly. Your entire body burns, and you cling to the wall in front of you to take some of the strain off of your trembling legs. Before long, you're gasping and panting for him as he bucks into you, the head of his cock dragging against some indescribably wonderful spot each time he thrusts forward.

"You're so... difficult..." he grumbles, and you hear him move, unsure of what he's doing until you feel his gloveless hand sliding fingers into your mouth. Your eyes roll back, your body clenches and squeezes around Diluc's shaft. Perhaps he'd only meant to keep you quiet, but the depravity of being fucked senseless by the most sought-after gentleman in Mondstadt in a back alley while being made to suck on his fingers is simply too erotic to withstand. Your lips and tongue worship those fingers as he pounds you against the wall, railing into your desperate body until the hot, winding knot of pleasure in your gut comes undone in a sudden, mind-numbing rush.

"Nngh- gods...!" even Diluc, with all of his strict self discipline, can't keep from groaning as your climax seizes you. He can feel your body tense and release, feel your inner walls tightening and gripping around him, clinging around his cock like you can't bear to be without it. He draws closer, his hard chest against your back, his head sinking down to the crook of your neck. His thrusts lose their timing, uneven and inelegant as he nears his own release.

You feel the sting of his teeth at your flesh. Diluc silences his own sounds of pleasure, burying his face at your neck and sucking a dark love-bite to your skin. But even this jolt of wonderful pain can't distract you from the way his cock flexes deep within you, swelling and straining out against your tight hole. Then, at last, his breath catches, and his cum begins to shoot out into you. The first impact causes you to whine around his fingers, which he punishes with a harsher bite at your shoulder muscle, even as he continues to fill you. Wild red hair brushes your face as you rally your strength to keep yourself in place for him and he fucks the remainder of his climax into your waiting body. For a moment, he holds within you. You each struggle to regain composure and steady your breathing- no easy feat when his manhood is stubbornly refusing to soften even the slightest bit. Then, with a barely restrained sigh, Diluc eases out of your spent hole.

His hand comes to rest on the wall in front of you, trapping you against his body for a moment longer. You have just enough room to move your hands to tug up your clothing and cover up, and he does the same with his free hand. But before releasing you, he places a lingering kiss to the spot just below where your jawline meets your ear. It's a surprisingly tender spot, and the soft warmth of his lips seems to spread across your skin from that point.

"Be safe getting home." he murmurs, and you find yourself wishing dearly that you could see his expression as he says it. Though, perhaps he fully intends to keep that image from you. Then, he straightens his posture, the cool night air filling the space where his body had warmed you.

"And next time," he adds, having regained his usual business-like tone, "Don't expect me to be so generous if you stand in my way."

#diluc #diluc x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact fic #diluc smut

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bunnimew · 3 years

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5 Times Pitch Used Terrible Pick Up Lines and the 1 Time It Kinda Worked

Fandom: Rise of the Guardians Pairing: Jack Frost/Pitch Black Tags: Fluff, Crack, Pick Up Lines, Post-Movie, 5+1, rating for themes, Pitch Black is a ridiculous man, Jack Frost you little shit Rating: T Words: 1884 Summary: Does what it says on the tin.

For RotG Bingo 2021: Terrible Pick-Up Lines On AO3 Here.

Jack hadn’t seen Pitch since the nightmares dragged him away.

The image was never far from his mind. The panic, the despair. And the children were so carefree now that Jack began to wonder if the Boogeyman would ever return.

Which is what made it such a shock when he finally heard that voice again, that silky smooth tone Jack thought locked away in his past, out of the literal darkness.

“If you were words on a page, you’d be fine print.”

Jack gripped his staff on instinct and spun to face his opponent before he realized that wasn’t an insult at all.

That was a pick-up line.

Pitch Black had just laid a pick-up line on Jack. Frost. One of the Guardians.

What.

The shock was so complete that all the fight melted out of Jack and left him reeling in confusion. Pitch’s lines were meant to sting, right? They weren’t supposed to be–

“Did you just call me fine?” Jack had to ask. Just to make sure.

Pitch’s expression remained smooth and suave, but his body, what little of it was solid, began to waiver and… was the Nightmare King fidgeting?

“Of course, Jack,” he said. “Surely you know how appealing you are?”

Jack nodded. He did. He definitely did. “Surely you know how weird it is that you said it?”

Pitch tilted his chin up, straightening his spine and assuming a very carefully composed stance. He looked uncomfortable as fuck. “It’s not that strange, Jack. If you’ll recall, it’s not the first… offer I’ve made you.”

That was a fair point, and Jack almost gave it to him. “Taking over the world and taking me to bed aren’t exactly the same thing, Pitch.”

His eyes widened in feigned surprise. Pitch leaned forward just enough to make Jack feel his height, and then he said, “Aren’t they, though?”

He vanished into the dark before Jack could come up with a good reply.

“Kiss me if I'm wrong. But dinosaurs still exist, right?”

This time, Jack was less surprised. Surprised, yes, but Jack didn’t jump into a defensive stance or anything, which was good for his sense of pride.

Instead, he thought about what Pitch actually said. Dinosaurs did not exist, and that was one of the saddest facts Jack knew. “These are supposed to be Pick-Ups, not Put-Downs. What are you doing?”

Pitch didn’t miss a beat. He turned his head coyly to the side and made himself look very unassuming. “You know, I’m actually terrible at flirting. How about you try to pick me up instead?”

That was… a pretty good line, if Jack were honest. Unfortunately, fraternizing with the enemy was frowned upon in most establishments, and also Jack was not going to reward the Boogeyman for bad behavior. “I’m not falling for it.”

“Are you sure?” Pitch looked up, all innocence. “Maybe you should check again.”

Jack snorted a laugh. He knew Pitch was witty and all, but somehow the Guardian had thought it limited to nasty insults and setting traps. Speaking of…

He looked right into Pitch’s eyes when he said. “You’re wrong, but I’m not kissing you.”

Pitch’s lips twisted, but it looked more playful than aggrieved. “Well you’re no fun.”

Jack skated to the edge of the lake, the one he liked to think of as home, and tipped joyously over into the soft snowbank to rest. Figure eights were a lot of fun, but figure skating was a lot of work.

“We’re not socks, but I think we’d make a great pair.”

Jack almost jumped right back out into the lake and through the ice. Instead, he used his unwillfully gained momentum to turn and smack Pitch’s shoulder for scaring him. That was no way to woo a man.

“Antarctica hit you hard, didn’t it?” he accused.

Pitch did look off-put by that, but he didn’t leave so Jack figured he was over it enough. It was only fair, too, considering the whole Antarctica thing was largely Pitch’s doing.

Jack brushed off the snowflakes he’d thrown all over himself in his panic and settled down into the bank the way he’d meant to before Pitch so rudely interrupted. “You know, you’d get further if you stopped sneaking up on people.”

Pitch looked even more offended by that. “I am the Boogeyman!”

“Yeah, so?”

Pitch tossed his head. Dramatically. Jack hid his grin. “Sneaking up on people is what I do.”

“Sneaking up on targets is what you do,” Jack corrected mildly. He stuffed one arm under his head and made sure to have a good angle on Pitch’s face for what he said next. “Sneaking up on a pull is how you go to bed lonely.”

Pitch drew back in shock, and Jack loved to see it. His eyes were wide and everything.

Jack raised his eyebrows and said, “That is what you’re trying to do, isn’t it?”

Pitch sputtered. It was hilarious. He recovered quickly, and that was fun, too. “And who are you to give me dating advice?”

Jack shrugged. “Just the guy you’re trying to date.”

Pitch walked right into that one, and he clearly knew it by the way he kept his mouth shut and looked at everything that wasn’t Jack. Finally, he licked his lips and said, “Yes, well…”

“Well?” Jack prompted. He would have sworn Pitch’s high cheekbones were looking darker than usual.

“Have a nice night,” Pitch said in a rush of breath and vanished into the shadows from whence he came.

Jack grinned. He didn’t care if Pitch was actually still there and could see. “Oh, I’m sure I will.”

If Jack was the kind of person to compliment his arch nemesis, he would give him props for materializing slowly this time. Was Pitch trying to learn?

All the same, the Nightmare King stopped Jack in his tracks by blocking his way with a long gray arm and a beautiful purple rose.

“I just wanted to show this rose how beautiful you are.”

Gorgeous as the rose was, that line was transparent as hell. Jack dropped his shoulders and stared at Pitch, hoping his expression was as lame as that line.

To his credit, Pitch held his ground. His face was the picture of innocent interest, maybe even with a dash of hope.

As they watched each other, waiting to see who blinked first, Pitch’s arms slowly lifted to place the rose, de-thorned thankfully, over Jack’s ear.

...Well played.

Jack tried to maintain his stare, but it was hard to stay mad when he felt pretty. That didn’t mean Pitch’s line was working; it just meant Jack liked roses. Who didn’t like roses?

Jack gathered his wits and tried to look casual when he asked, “If that’s all you wanted, then I guess your job’s done here, isn’t it?”

Pitch didn’t look upset the way Jack thought he would. His eyes were roaming over Jack’s face and the flower tucked against it in distant admiration and Jack, for the first time, really started to think Pitch might mean something by these lines he was using.

“Yes, I suppose it is,” he said as if waking from a dream. This time, when Pitch melted into the dark, he sank slowly into the shadows and it didn’t feel anything like the running away it had every time previously.

He could have taken three times as long to leave and Jack still wouldn’t have found his tongue in time to reply.

This time, when Pitch appeared, Jack was reclining lazily up in a tree. Which Jack would have considered his home turf, except the way Pitch dripped out from the shadow of the branch above him to hang upside down, comfortable as any bat, made him feel at a distinct disadvantage.

It was creepy, but Jack could admit it was cool, too. Pitch had style.

Jack waited patiently for the line he knew was coming.

“I'd like to take you to the movies, but they don't let you bring in your own snacks.”

Jack snorted a laugh. He couldn’t help it. And yet, after all of this, Jack could admit to feeling flattered by it, too. A snack, huh?

“Why can’t you just tell me you like me and get it over with?”

Jack hadn’t realized any part of Pitch was moving until all of it, extended shadows and everything, came to a screeching halt. “Wha–” He stuttered, and it was music to Jack’s ears. “No, That’s–I don–”

The Boogeyman didn’t know how to handle it when he wasn’t in control, but rather than lash out the way Jack feared, the way he was used to, he flailed in embarrassment and conceded all ground to Jack. That, more than anything else, told Jack what he needed to know.

“Goodbye, Frost.” Pitch said with what little dignity he could muster, and dropped right into the ground.

Pitch wasn’t even a surprise this time.

Jack was in the middle of a long brick walkway, icing up the ornate lamps and decorating the bare trees on either side with snow. There were plenty of shadows to pick from, but Pitch walked over from some distance away giving Jack more than enough warning to know he was there.

Jack was tempted to interrupt him. To see if he could wrongfoot him again, get Pitch to trip over his own words and obvious desires and flee.

It would be easy. Jack could think up dozens of ways to call Pitch out before he even spoke a word.

But then Jack wouldn’t get to hear him speak a word.

And he was curious what words Pitch might speak.

“Your eyes are bluer than the Atlantic ocean,” Pitch spoke softly, poetically. He must have practised to deliver the line this well. “And I don’t mind being lost at sea”

It was worth it, Jack thought: the practice and letting Pitch say it. That smooth tongue was meant for promises on the wind and romance in every word.

Jack stared for too long and only realized when Pitch’s eyes gleamed and he took another breath.

“I wish I were a tear,” he whispered as he moved closer. His cool fingers brushed gently along the side of Jack’s face and Jack felt no fear. Pitch was telling him just what he wanted, and Jack held all the power here. “...So I could start in your eyes,” Pitch said, “live on your face…” His fingers drifted down along Jack’s jaw. He knew what Pitch was going to say before he said it, “...and die on your lips.”

But it was so much better out loud, in Pitch’s voice, than in Jack’s head.

It was Antarctica all over again, but this time Pitch was offering something whose price wasn’t Jack’s soul. It was Antarctica all over again, and Pitch was brave to come back a second time, a third time, a sixth time to risk rejection and hurt and wounds reopened that maybe only just healed.

Jack watched Pitch glow in the moonlight. Watched him take a deep breath and open his lips to speak—

“You can stop now,” Jack said, and grabbed the back of Pitch’s neck to pull him in for a kiss.

Pitch’s lips tasted just as sweet as his lines.

#TheBunni #Rise of the Guardians #rotg #blackicerotg #blackice rotg #blackice #Jack Frost #Pitch Black #Pick-up lines #Rotg Bingo #rotgbingo

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scuttling · 3 years

Text

Newbie

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Latina OFC Sophie Cortes Word Count: 3,786 Tags: SFW, Pre-relationship, Self-confidence issues, Canon-typical violence Summary: On Sophie’s first day at the BAU, she gets nervous. On Sophie’s second day at the BAU, they get a case. Collection: Sophie Cortes timeline, 0-6 Months at the BAU (See Masterlist for reading order) Link to A03 or read below! On Sophie’s first day at the BAU, she’s a little bit nervous—change your outfit three times, run your Keurig with no cup underneath, hair up? hair down? hair up? nervous—so she takes a deep, steadying breath before pushing open the glass double doors that lead to the bullpen.

She took cues about attire from other people she saw the day of her interview, so today she is wearing a simple black and white dress with pumps and gold jewelry, and she feels she fits in, but she gets more than a few curious looks when she enters.

Her instructions are to report to Agent Hotchner’s office first thing, but she is stopped on her way there by a tall, handsome, impeccably dressed man with a frankly gorgeous smile. He’s Black, with a shaved head and a great voice, and suddenly she doesn’t mind the interference.

“Hi, I’m Derek Morgan. You’re Sophia Cortes, right? Hotch mentioned you were starting today.” She smiles warmly.

“Yes, pleasure to meet you. You can call me Sophie,” she says, reaching out a hand for a shake. “Agent Hotchner told me you’re from Chicago, and so am I. Please say you aren’t a White Sox fan.” His smile becomes even brighter, if possible. She might be halfway in love with him already.

“God, no. If you want to watch good baseball, it’s the Cubs all the way.” She laughs lightly, happy to have a little rapport with a new colleague so soon.

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“I’m glad there’s a little more color in the office now,” he jokes, and she understands where he’s coming from completely. It’s bad enough to be the only woman in the room, sometimes, but when she’s also the only person of color, she feels… inadequate, somehow. Like she has to work twice as hard to be seen, even though she literally stands out among her peers.

A blonde woman with a fair complexion and pretty, almost doll-like facial features steps up behind him, and he looks over, introduces her.

“Sophie Cortes, this is Jennifer Jareau, our Communications Director.”

“Everyone calls me JJ,” she says with a smile and a handshake.

“Nice to meet you. If you’re the Communications Director, you’ve got the toughest job in the unit, then.” JJ looks surprised, then nods her head.

“Absolutely, but don’t tell them that. They’d never believe you,” she says with a playful shove of Derek’s shoulder. “Don’t let being a profiler go to your head like this guy.”

“Who, me? I’m as down to earth as the next devastatingly handsome guy.”

“Yeah, right,” a voice says from her right, and Sophie turns to see a woman approaching them with pale skin and dark hair, bangs, a kind smile. “We love you and all, but you’re a little cocky.”

“Is it being cocky when I’m that good, though?” he asks with a wink, and Sophie already feels more at ease just hearing them talk with each other. She can get acclimated to anything when the environment is right. “This is my partner, Emily Prentiss. Prentiss, this is Sophie Cortes. The new newbie.” She sets down her bag, heads over to shake hands.

“Nice to meet you, Sophie. Love the dress.” Sophie thanks her for the compliment. “I appreciate you taking the newbie title from me; fair warning, you’ll probably be here for five years before they stop calling you that.”

“Ah, I’ve been called worse, I’ll take it.” She glances around their workspace, looks up to Derek. “Is my partner here? Dr. Reid, right?”

“Oh, he texted, said his train is running late,” JJ explains. “He’s really excited to meet you, though, so don’t mind if he’s a little… overwhelming, when he does get here.”

“You’ll fall in love with the kid, everyone does,” Derek explains, and it makes her heart feel warm. This is definitely a team she wants to be a part of. “But he can be intense.”

“I appreciate the heads up.” Before she can say any more, Agent Hotchner descends the stairs, heads toward them.

“Good morning. I can see the team has taken the liberty of introducing themselves.”

“Hello again, Agent Hotchner.” Sophie shakes his hand, and he smiles softly.

“Hotch, please. You can put your things in that desk and I’ll give you a tour, if you’d like.”

“Sure, sounds great.” The team shares a brief look, but she doesn’t know them well enough to comment, just stows her belongings and follows the unit chief. “The team was very welcoming. They seem really tight knit,” she comments as they leave the bullpen, and he looks at her, nods.

“When you spend as much time together as we do, traveling as we do, it’s inevitable. Was it not that way in Intelligence?”

“You couldn’t get those people to sit down to dinner together, let alone tease one another. They’d probably bite each other’s heads off.” They worked well together, but in private the environment could be pretty toxic. She knows Unit Chief Roberts wouldn’t have put up with it if the team didn’t get such good results.

“I can see how this environment might seem a little strange, then,” he says, opening the door for her. They take the elevator.

“Strange, but good. It reminds me of when I was a cop, and I’ve missed that kind of camaraderie.”

“Well I’m glad you felt welcomed. We really are happy to have you.” They approach a closed door which he raps on lightly; the woman who answers has a bright smile and an even brighter outfit, lime green and navy blue, with matching accessories, including green glasses. She makes Sophie feel very… plain.

“Oh, hi!” the woman says, and her grin gets bigger. “Wow, you’re beautiful.” Sophie laughs, a little taken aback, and Hotch sighs lightly like he’s used to the odd behavior. It’s all very endearing.

“This is Penelope Garcia, our technical analyst. Garcia, this is Sophia Cortes, our new profiler.” She reaches out a hand.

“It’s nice to meet you. You can call me Sophie, or Cortes, whichever you prefer. And you’re beautiful, too. I love your style.”

“Thank you; I can tell we’re going to be fast friends. You’ll have me on speed dial,” she says, walking to her desk and jotting something down on a pink Post-It. “If you need something researched, narrowed down, blown up, compared, etc, I’m your girl.” She hands her the note—her direct line—and smiles. “I’m sure you have much more to see, but don’t be a stranger!”

Something tells Sophie she won’t be.

He shows her all around the office—copiers, the breakroom, supply closets, restrooms—and they end up in the briefing room, the last two to walk in.

“You remember Gideon,” Hotch says, and the man nods a greeting. Still as personable as ever, she thinks. “And this is your partner, Dr. Spencer Reid.” She’s not surprised by his age—she read some articles about him once she had his name, knows they call him ‘boy genius’ quite literally—but she is a little thrown by his nervous smile, his dark eyes, his untidy flop of brown hair. Derek wasn’t kidding when he called him kid; he looks like he belongs at an after school chess club meeting, or something.

He’s adorable. Like a puppy. She immediately wants to keep him. She smiles wide.

“Sophia Cortes, but you can call me Sophie, if you like.” He stands, and they shake hands. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’ve heard all about you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too. I hear you’re from Chicago. Did you know Chicago is home to 2,716,450 residents living in over 100 neighborhoods?” She smiles wider.

“Yeah, with 600 parks, 500 playgrounds, 29 beaches, and 26 miles of open lakefront. It’s beautiful. Have you been?”

“We worked a case there, once. I didn’t get to see any parks or beaches.” He makes a frowning kind of face and she laughs softly, takes the seat Hotch offers her.

“Well you’re young, there’s time.”

“Now that we’re all caught up on introductions, we can get started,” Hotch states, and Sophie’s first morning meeting begins.

It’s a little boring, as far as first days go, but she doesn’t mind. She has access to her computer, gets it set up the way she wants, finds out from the team where all the best places are nearby for coffee or drinks or lunch. She meets with the section chief for introductions, goes over some policies with Hotch—who, she was right, is definitely funnier and more thoughtful than he must let on. He probably feels like he has to act a certain way, because he’s the boss, but she likes pulling the human out of him, makes it a personal mission going forward to make him smile.

He’s too handsome not to smile. On Sophie’s second day at the BAU, they get a case.

“I usually like to let new profilers get acclimated to the team before going into the field,” Hotch tells her as they board the plane, “but it didn’t make sense to keep you in Quantico. Are you sure you’re up for it?”

“Of course. That’s why I’m here, I want to help.” She stows her bag overhead. “I’ll observe, give my input when I have it, follow everyone’s lead.”

“Sounds good. You know you can come to any of us if you have questions.”

“I know. Thank you.”

They do a deeper debrief on the plane—three women have been murdered, all in their mid 30’s, athletic and blonde, last seen dropping their children off at school—and Sophie is tasked with going to the most recent crime scene with Hotch and Prentiss.

“What can you tell about him so far?” Hotch asks her while the detective on the case speaks with Prentiss about some details of the scene. She glances around the room, takes it all in.

“Well, there’s blood everywhere. Serious overkill each time. He either knew the victims, or has a deep-seated hatred for a woman they remind him of; my money is on is the latter.” She looks through the kitchen, at the bloody footprints that lead to the back door. “Tracked blood all through the house, left the back door open. He’s disorganized. He may have seen them at the school and planned to follow them home, but he didn’t do any pre-surveillance on them. Something about these women triggers him and he acts within the hour.”

“Would you call it a crime of passion, then?” She looks over, curious, then realizes he’s testing her.

“No. A crime of passion indicates some level of culpability by the victim. Provocation. These women are just in the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong face.” He nods, satisfied with her answer.

“So how do we think he’s finding the victims?”

“He could have a child under his care who goes to that school, or he could live near the school, work there. He could work the night shift somewhere else and pass the school on his way home. I think it’s too early to narrow that down.”

“Any idea what weapon he used?”

“We would have to really examine the cast off to be certain, but my guess would be… a hammer, or some other small, blunt tool. This wasn’t done by a baseball bat or a shovel or something larger. We can also get an estimated height and weight of the unsub if we chart the area void of blood here,” she adds, pointing to a bare spot on the wall with blood droplets above and around it. “I’m guessing we’ll send the photos to Garcia for analysis.”

“That’s right. I agree with your assessment,” he begins, but she senses hesitation.

“But?” He looks over at her, thoughtful.

“We’re missing something.”

“We are, or I am?” she asks for clarification, and he smiles just slightly.

“We are.” She takes that as a good sign, walks another loop around the room for something they would have overlooked, and she brightens when she thinks she’s discovered it.

“Her purse is still here, cash, credit cards. Her jewelry was still on her body when she was found. But does it look to you like something’s missing from the entryway table?” She points to it, and it’s very ordinary: a calendar, a bowl for change, hooks for keys, a couple of photographs—with a notable blank space in the middle. “Maybe a photo?”

“We should ask the husband if he knows what was there. Good work,” he tells her, and he heads off in the direction of the husband; she follows close behind.

Back at the precinct, the team fills each other in on what they’ve learned.

“So our unsub killed each of these women with a ball-peen hammer, striking 8-10 times. Blood spatter analysis puts him at about 5’11”, 6’0” tall, around 275 pounds. The photo taken from the third victim’s house was of the victim and her 7-year-old son Josh; similar photos were taken from the other two homes—photos of mother and son.” Prentiss tacks copies of the three missing photos to the board.

“Sounds like maybe the woman they remind him of is his mother,” Reid states.

“That’s what we’re going with. We’re still not sure how he finds his victims, though,” Prentiss mentions, and Sophie takes a breath, hesitates.

“Do you have something?” Morgan asks and she shrugs, unsure.

“Maybe? One of the theories we threw out there was that he works overnight and drives past the school on his way home from work, when the kids are being dropped off. If he killed them with a ball-peen hammer, maybe we should look for machine shops in the area with overnight shifts? Those are typically used in metalworking, not construction.” She feels like all eyes are on her, and it makes her nervous. “That could be completely irrelevant, it’s just a thought.”

“It’s a good thought; I’ll have Garcia pull us a list, we can split up and pass around the description, see if our guy is a metal worker. Good call, newbie.” Morgan leaves to take the call, and JJ leans over with a smile.

“Don’t second guess yourself. You’re doing great so far. Theories are important, even if they’re wrong.” Sophie returns the expression, nods.

“Thanks. I’ve just gotta get used to the collaborative environment; haven’t been in one of those in a while.”

“You’d never know it. You’re fitting right in.” She takes it as a compliment, is happy to be of some use to the investigation and not just getting in the way.

The rest of the day is pretty quiet; they test out a few other possible theories, deliver the profile to the late shift, plan to hit the school early in the morning to look for potential suspects and to pass around the description to see if anyone meets it who works there, or lives nearby.

She goes to the school with Reid and JJ, speaks to teachers, janitorial staff, but none of them know a man like the one they’re looking for. She meets up with the others, who were speaking to parents, after about an hour of questioning, but they also come up blank.

“We’ve still got your machine shop theory,” Reid says as they drive back to the precinct. “The others should be done with those soon, so there’s still a chance we can find this guy today.” JJ’s phone rings, and she answers on the car bluetooth.

“JJ, there’s been another attack,” Prentiss says. “1419 5th Street—you guys are closer. Can you head over?”

“We’re on the way,” JJ answers, turning right, and Reid looks thoughtful.

“An attack? She’s not dead?”

“No. Not yet, at least. She’s being rushed to the hospital; her husband was home, caught the attacker in the middle of it all.”

“Did he get a good look at the unsub?” JJ asks.

“He’s with a sketch artist now. Hotch wants you to circulate the sketch ASAP; we think we may have a hit at one of the metal shops, if you can send it to me, too.”

“You got it.” She ends the call, looks at Sophie through the rearview mirror. “Drinks are on you tonight, newbie,” she says playfully, and Sophie can’t help but laugh. She had been so intimidated by the thought of joining the BAU, and she’s glad to see she’s useful, can actually help make a difference. It’s a feeling she won’t forget for a while.

Later that night, when they plan to try to catch the unsub before he leaves for work, she deflates, a little.

Hotch, Morgan, Prentiss, and Reid are going to breach the unsub’s house while JJ covers the front door and Sophie covers the back. She had assumed she would get to be part of the team going in, with her tactical background, and immediately thinks the worst, that they’re happy to have her brain, but that her body is a hindrance. Too short, too weak… it’s how she’s been treated her whole life, and she hates to think that she’s being dismissed here so soon for the same reasons. She tries not to let it show, but she dwells on it, a little, lets it get her down even though she knows she shouldn’t.

She snaps out of it when there’s movement on the back porch, a hulking, shadowy figure in the darkness.

“I’ve got him coming out of the back,” she whispers into her comms, and she draws her gun and points it at the unsub. “Stop, FBI!” The guy turns to face her—he fits the sketch to a tee, a real mountain of a man as the blood spatter analysis suggested—takes one good look, and goes running in the other direction.

Alright, so, he’s clearly not impressed. She can work with that.

“He’s running, I’m in pursuit.” She holsters her weapon and her boots pound the grass as she books it his way. The good thing about being so much smaller than him is that she’s much faster, catches up to him fairly easily, and again, she shouts for him to stop, which, of course, he doesn’t.

Her first thought is that she’s got to get this guy on the ground no matter what—this isn’t a shoplifter or something, he’s wanted for murdering three women and attempting to murder a fourth, so a little force is okay if necessary, and judging by his build, it’s going to be necessary.

Her second thought is, if I can’t catch him, I don’t deserve to be here. And that’s the one that makes the decision for her.

She leaps onto his back, grabs fistfuls of his shirt, and shakes him forward, backward, forward again, trying to throw off his balance. When he starts to wobble, she slides down his back, hooking a leg around one of his and driving her knee into the bend of his; he goes down, face first, and she reaches behind her for her cuffs, slaps them on his wrists before he has a chance to turn or stand. “Jason Farber, you’re under arrest for three counts of murder and one count of attempted murder.”

“Attempted murder?” he asks, turning his face so he can speak more easily. He seems pretty calm for a runner, maybe just resigned to his fate, and she leans over so she can see him better. He’s breathing fine, uninjured, and just looks pissed. “You mean that overbearing bitch isn’t dead?”

“Yep, sorry to be the one to tell you, Jason, but she’s alive and kicking.” She continues to read him his rights, and is just pulling him to his feet when Morgan and Hotch skid to a stop behind her; if they look surprised… who is she kidding? They look surprised as fuck.

“Damn, Cortes. This guy’s like three of you,” Morgan marvels as she walks him back toward the cars so he can be tossed into the back of a black and white. “Did you make him an offer he couldn’t refuse?” She scoffs at that, and even the unsub snorts in amusement.

“She tackled me. Wasn’t counting on that.”

“I don’t think anybody was,” she admits, getting him into a cop car and shutting the door. She joins the rest of the team, gets a high-five from JJ.

“Hey, score one for the ladies. We never get to do any tackling.”

“She did better than I would have,” Reid admits without shame, and she laughs.

“It’s all in the legs. I lift chains at the gym.” He gives her a look like he’s got no idea what she’s talking about, which almost makes her laugh again. “You do pull-ups, but with chains around your legs.” She demonstrates, squatting and gesturing to her legs like she’s wrapping something around them.

“Okay, you’re the real deal, newbie,” Morgan says when she stands up fully. “Remind me not to run from you unless I want a face full of dirt.” The group breaks apart after that, but Hotch lingers, gives her a meaningful look when she makes eye contact.

“I bet that felt good.” She leans against the side of the SUV, feels a deep conversation coming on.

“It did. I’m stronger than I look, and sometimes it’s fun to be underestimated, but other times it gets really annoying.”

“I can imagine,” he says, nodding, and he mimics her posture. “I just want to make sure you know you don’t have anything to prove. I hired you for a reason.”

“I know. But I don’t like being a one-trick pony, and I’m definitely not waiting around for one of you guys when an unsub is on the move.”

“And I wouldn't expect you to. As for the ‘one-trick pony’ thing, that’s not how I see you at all. You’re extremely well-rounded, and that’s why I wanted you.” His eyes are kind, but penetrating, and she dips her head, nods.

“And that’s why I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“After what you’ve shown me the last two days, I don’t think that’s possible, but I want you to know you can come to me when something’s bothering you. That’s why I’m here.”

“I know. I won’t forget it,” she assures, and he stands fully, cocks an eyebrow in her direction.

“I heard drinks are on you tonight,” he says with a straight face, and she laughs lightly.

“I guess we better get going before they run up the tab, then.”

They walk in companionable silence back to the SUV.

#aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x original female character #criminal minds fanfic #latina original female character #hotch x original female character #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #hotch x female reader #hotch x reader

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divinefireangel · 3 years

Text

The Way You Love

SF9 Youngbin x F! Reader Imagine.

He's so precious I WANNA PROTEC

Disclaimer: This is just a work of fiction. If this piece of fan fiction is offensive to any celebrity, fandom or culture please let me know so I can take it down. Also note that this is my version of a character or celeb, which will vary from person to person.

Author's Note: Got the idea at literally 3am. And I cried a lil while writing this. I do recommend reading this when you have a bad day. Because I have to say it is cute.

Copyright: Please note that this is my work and if you want to publish this on any other platform, take my permission before doing so. Taking an author's work and posting it somewhere else without any intimation is just disrespectful. I readily welcome suggestions and criticisms. That being said, Happy reading! 🤍

Warnings: All ages and written with she/her pronouns but everyone can read it. (nothing specified with respect to anatomy, appearance, etc of reader). Nothing really. Just pure fluff. Slowburn and crappy ending because I went blank 😂💀

Summary/Pre-Requisite: Youngbin and Y/N are in a well established relationship. But it isn't enough.

1.6k words

Youngbin smiled at the small box in his hand. He can't believe he is actually going to do this. How can something as little as this be the source of so much joy, he didn't know. Maybe it was her. Or the fact that it was for her, from him. An eternal promise to love her till his last day, last hour, last minute and final breath. Well there is still much time to worry about that now though.

Loving Y/N is definitely the best decision he took without having to take it. Loving her, was as easy as breathing the fresh morning air. Listening to her talk was his favourite sound in the entire universe. Watching her dance goofily is his ideal view, other than when she's paying attention to something. Her face looks so cute when she's concentrating, he almost feels like he can cry over her adorableness.

Watching her from across the room, her movements, the way she smiles and makes everyone around her laugh with her silly jokes only adds to one of the many reasons why he loves her. She is the brightest light in his life, illuminating his existence with unfiltered joy and eternal love and affection.

He loves it when she snuggles up to him, wrapping her small arms around his torso and asks him what he's doing with her honey sweet voice, never fails to make his heart melt and burst with adoration. He loves it when she sleepily moves closer to him, like a pair of magnets, because she feels cold and knows that she can always rely on him to keep her warm.

He loves it when she bonds with his members and treat them and scold them like they are her children. Although he loves it more when she becomes a source of reassurance not only to him but also to his little brothers. He loves it when she helps them with anything, no matter how small the help may be. Since he is treated like the Dad of the group, Y/N automatically became the Mom and he couldn't wish for someone more perfect then her for that role.

He loves her understanding nature, her positive spirit, her overly motivating presence, her genuine compliments and concern. He loves the way she looks at him, like he's the only man in a room full of people. Her eyes reflecting the same twinkles of his eyes, with just as much love when he looks at her.

He loves when she slightly shuts her eyes when he moves her hair out of her face. He loves it when her small frame hugs him so tight he can barely stand still. He loves it when she plays with his hair when he takes a nap on her chest. He loves how her hand fits into his perfectly, like pieces of a puzzle.

If there was one thing he could do again, it would be to go back in time and fall in love with her all over again for the first time. Everyday, she gives him something new to love about her. Whether it be her shy smile, her blushy flustered face or the way she gets excited when she sees something cute, the way she coos his puppy to sleep, the way she always makes him feel better on a bad day and so many more things that may seem insignificant to her, but are never to him, makes him fall for her harder and deeper in love than he ever thought possible.

"Hyung! HYUNG!!! "

Snapping back to reality, Youngbin sees a wide eyes Chani looking at him with a questioning expression.

"What? "

"Were you daydreaming about Noona again? Why are you so distracted today? "

"It's nothing Chani-ya. She just makes me happy. That's all. Did you tell the camera crew that I need them this evening? "

"Yes I did Hyung. That's what I was telling you as you were zoned out. I don't even want to imagine what it's going to be like when you get married. We probably won't get anything done at all since you will be distracted all the time. " Chani said in a factual manner.

"Okay that's a bit excessive. And you haven't found someone whom you love as much right now. You will understand better when you do. Till then I can't really explain this." The older said smiling lighty as she took over his thoughts again. Rolling his eyes, Chani patted his leader and left wordlessly.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

"This is nice. The air isn't as humid as I thought it would be. " Y/N said as she walked next to her lover, fingers intertwined, arms swaying back and forth as they moved forward. Stopping still he twirled her around till she faced the railing covering the boundary of the lake. Giggling she wrapped his arms around her so he could hug her, keep her warm, even though she wasn't as cold yet.

Resting his chin on her head, he sighed heavily, feeling content with his beloved in his embrace. Oh how he could stay like this forever and never leave. Hmm. She's right. The air is just perfect. Like her. And it is definitely the perfect weather, to take the next step most relationships do.

Looking up at the sky, the stars shine bright, twinkling and shimmering beautifully. Taking this as a positive sign from the universe, Youngbin hugged Y/N tighter, knowing that it's now or,well later but now is nice. Turning her head to her lover, Y/N stands on her tippy toes to kiss him.

Breathing out the two lovebirds stared up at the star filled night sky. The soft wind getting stronger with time, but not too strong to have any effect yet. Just a light breeze that can be felt. Like the love that's surrounding them, keeping them warm from the exterior and from within.

"Oh! Did you see that! That star is shining the brightest." Youngbin said pointing at a distant star.

" Which one? " Y/N stepped forward by one step, trying to see the star he pointed out.

" That one? " She asked again, this time she was the one pointing.

" No. The one standing in front of me right now. "

Drawing her hand back to her body, her heart thumping strongly in her chest. Now, what had happened when they hugged is that Y/N had felt a small poke on the side of her thigh, where Youngbin's jacket was over on her. So being the smart young lady she is, Y/N knew. She knew what was happening. And it wasn't just feeling the poke, she's been feeling like this for some days now. And she knows that he has too.

Slowly turning around, Y/N was faced with her lover, who was down on one knee, holding a small box with the cutest ring she had ever seen. To say that Y/N.exe had stopped working was an understatement. She stood there, as though she was frozen. Looking up at her, Youngbin breathed heavily and started.

" When I met you for the first time, I never thought that you will love someone like me. So I was happy to settle being just your friend. But we both started liking each other at the same time. I asked you out and you agreed to date me. I never thought that you would actually date me for a long time because I've, well I was thinking that you deserve better. But you told me and made me belive different. And I am really really grateful that you did. And as time progressed, we both grew to love each other so much. You know all of this already, but saying this out loud, makes me sure that I want more. You, have helped me grow into a better person, over the time that we have dated. You, motivate me and drive me to do better, because even if no one did, you knew my limit and my capabilities. You, make me the happiest I've ever been. So will you please make me a little bit more happier by becoming my fiancee and the happiest, in the near future, when you become my wife? Will you marry me? "

Y/N stares at him, while breathing through her mouth. The only sound that's heard is the soft wind.

" Yes. "

Y/N gets down on her knees, in front of her lover, sweet tears of shock and joy streaming down her face.

" Yes. I will marry you Kim Youngbin. "

" Hyung!!! Congratulations!!!!!! "

Breaking his face into a grin, Youngbin removes the lovely and intricately detailed ring and puts it on Y/N's finger delicately. Kissing her left knuckle, Youngbin realises he is crying as well. Sobbing out loud Y/N throws her arms around him, making him tumble backwards a little. Laughing a little, Youngbin slowly wraps his arms around her, caressing the back of her head as he looked up at the sky, trying to stop the tears from falling down his cheek.

Hugging each other tight for what seemed like forever, they move away from each other's embrace upon hearing clapping sounds and cheers from the young men and their team who have now approached them.

Standing up Y/N couldn't help but hide her face in her lover's chest. Kissing her forehead, Youngbin thanked everyone.

" Let's all celebrate! Dinner is on us. " Youngbin stated looking you. Smiling you nodded you head in agreement as everyone around you cheered and wiped their tears away.

It all felt like a dream. But it wasn't. It was reality. A reality that she was so thankful to have. Smiling till their cheeks hurt, Youngbin and Y/N not couldn't wait till they were married and called as Husband and Wife.

#sf9 #kim youngbin #youngbin #youngbin fluff #kim youngbin x reader #kim youngbin fluff #youngbin x reader #sf9 fluff #sf9 imagines #sf9 scenarios #sf9 youngbin #sf9 x reader fluff #sf9 x reader

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amandaoftherosemire · 3 years

Text

And Hell is Just a Sauna -- Part One

Fandom: Marvel/MCU

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanoff, Steve Rogers, Wanda Maximoff, OMC Joseph

Author: @amandaoftherosemire

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 6,121

Format: Short Series (Complete)

Warnings: Language, violence, references to captivity, implied abuse, angst.

Summary: You meet Bucky Barnes upon your mysterious and deadly escape from a power obsessed cult leader and his followers. Though you carry a secret in addition to the wariness of trauma, you can’t help your attraction to Bucky and his irascible demeanor. As for Bucky, he is drawn to the light he sees in you while he fears the things you’re hiding. Can you trust him with your secrets, and your life? Will you have a choice?

A/N: I haven’t posted anything in five months, so this may be a little on the odd side. I guess I’m working through some stuff?

This takes place in between Black Panther and Infinity War but is not consistent with MCU canon because I do what I want.

I used my old taglist, but only as a way to let y’all know I’m posting again. As always, feel free to ignore me. 😊 Heads up, future parts will get smutty.

Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four

And Hell is Just a Sauna -- Part One

The first time Bucky saw you, you were literally on fire. Not just a little flame, either, but a full-on conflagration engulfing your entire body and crackling with cheerful menace. You’d turned to him, your eyes blazing white in a face painted in flame, and intoned with a voice that both popped and roared.

“Are you a god?”

Bucky’s eyes widened over the barrel of the gun he continued to keep trained on you despite his uncertainty that it could do any good should you decide to attack. Unsure how to prevent that decision, but wanting to try, he responded slowly. “I have no idea how to answer that.”

From the woods around him, Bucky heard a shout. He stood at the edge of a clearing in which you stood at the center, a scatter of charred bodies surrounding you. He went no closer, not willing to discover the hard way what your range was.

Sam was yelling as he walked closer, “Ray, when someone asks you if you’re a god, you say, ‘Yes!’”

Bucky was fascinated to see blue flames dance along your teeth as you smiled. He couldn’t explain it, but something about the way the flames whipped and whirled around you was unbelievably beautiful. It was also incredibly terrifying, but Bucky had needed to survive horrors best left undefined, so had long since learned to find the beauty in terror. In the next moment, Sam was stepping into view on the other side of the clearing, his own gun out and ready.

You turned, and with a happy, surprised sob, cried, “Sam!?” The next moment, the fire was flickering into nothing and you were just a lovely woman wearing nothing more than the ash from what had once been a long white dress.

Sam immediately holstered his gun and ran forward. “Y/N? We knew there were prisoners but--"

"Sam," you whispered brokenly as you stumbled on knees turned to jelly toward the concerned face of your friend and former colleague. You hadn't seen him since before your abduction, not long after that last doomed mission in Lagos. When he'd gone on the run with Captain America after the fallout over the Accords, you'd been nothing but happy to hear that he was alive and free. His face was one of the last you’d expected to see upon your escape, but the sight of Sam was a joyous relief.

"What are you doing here?" Your teeth chattered on the question, reaction and your own nakedness leaving you freezing and shaking. You didn't see where the silver emergency blanket came from, but Sam was nevertheless wrapping you in it and then in his own arms, to your everlasting gratitude. You'd never been anything more than friends, but he'd always been a true and loyal one, with a giving heart and wicked sense of humor.

You let him comfort you, the bone-shattering terror of your ordeal hitting you now that it was over. Now that someone you knew and trusted held you, the sick horror of what you'd endured sent tears flooding into your throat. The exhaustion of everything you'd done that day turned your muscles to water and so you didn't resist when Sam bent and slid his arm behind your knees to lift and carry you out of the clearing where you'd hurt so many. Instead, you buried your face in the crook where his neck met his shoulder and let the tears fall.

"Do me a favor and tell the others I've found Y/N Y/L/N and that I'm taking her back to the jet."

Bucky had lowered his weapon when the fire had flickered out with your recognition of Sam, but his eyes were still narrowed with a hint of suspicion. He was pretty sure you weren't a danger to Sam, at least, but that didn't mean he thought you harmless. He nodded slowly and lifted his microphone to his lips to report in even as he fell into step behind Sam as he headed back the way they'd came.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," Sam said gently as he walked briskly back to the jet, "but do you know who is in charge of all of this?"

"Joseph." Your voice was a rasp with the tears that still shivered out of you, but all of the emotion had left your tone. "I don't think he survived."

Bucky glanced back at the clearing where they'd left a half dozen charred bodies and figured he knew how Joseph had met his end. When he turned back, you were peeking over Sam's shoulder at him, to his admitted consternation.

"I'm sorry about the dumb joke." The emotion was back, remorse in your eyes and tone as you looked at him. "I wanted to either make you laugh or scare you. I just didn't want to hurt anyone else." With that, you buried your face back in Sam's throat and started crying again.

Bucky tried to resist but his heart throbbed in sympathy, with understanding. He knew all about being forced to do things he didn't want to, both by cruelty and circumstance. He'd be the last to blame another for what they'd done to escape. He was concerned about your apparent propensity for bursting into flame, but he understood why you'd done so, since you could.

"He probably hasn't seen Ghostbusters, sweetheart." You lifted your head, a frown on your tear-streaked face to glare with narrow-eyed suspicion at Bucky, who was at a complete loss as to what the two of you were even talking about. Sam laughed when he saw your face and went on. "This is Bucky Barnes."

Your face cleared in understanding and Bucky wondered who you were that you recognized his name so quickly. "Welcome back, Sergeant," you said softly, with a shy smile that Bucky couldn't help but find charming even as he wondered who you were and how you seemed to know so much about him when he'd never heard your name before.

"At least now I know why we're here," Sam called back to Bucky, his voice cheerful as he tramped back towards the jet. "Nat's got a soft spot for this one; I'm willing to bet she had an idea we'd find Y/N."

Bucky murmured as he kept his eyes on yours from where they peeked over Sam's shoulder at him. "I didn't know we were looking for Y/N."

"I was part of the supply chain." You didn't like the wariness with which this man watched you, but you could hardly blame him, considering your introduction. You weren't normally so dramatic, but he couldn't know that. "Natasha would have noticed when I disappeared."

Sam shook his head with a smile and moved toward the edge of the forest, now in sight. "Why am I not surprised? Were you Nat's secret source?"

"Of course." You couldn't seem to stop looking at the man following you and Sam with such deadly grace and aloof readiness. You'd never seen anyone look so dangerously bored. You were damned if you didn't find it sexy as hell. "She asked me if I wanted to help and I said yes. The Accords are a human rights violation."

Bucky's eyes flicked to yours and warmed as the corner of his mouth lifted just a little. Your heart skipped in the first beat of attraction as Sam laughed out loud. The sound had you smiling even as he replied, "Like I said, not surprised." He turned his head to call over his shoulder, "Bucky, this is Y/N. She used to be support staff for the Avengers, was one of the researchers there. She helped me when Steve and I were looking for you."

Bucky bent his head in acknowledgement and smiled fully for the first time. Now that he had more of a handle on things, he could roll with them. And he'd ever been the sort willing to go the extra mile for a pretty woman. "Pleasure to meet you," he rumbled, and sounded like he meant it.

You thought about the sacrificial dress you'd been wearing when the fire had blown through and carried you out of the building, remembered the fear in the eyes of the henchmen sent to recapture you as they'd circled you like a pack of wild dogs. "Believe me. The pleasure's mine."

As Sam broke through the tree line where the quinjet that had brought them sat, the little bottle blonde assassin behind the controls, he turned to catch your eye. "So, Y/N, are you gonna tell me how you're a firestarter now?"

Natasha turned in her chair at the sound of his voice as they mounted the ramp into the jet. "Good, you found her," she said briskly with a gentle smile for you. You smiled weakly back as Sam set you down in one of the chairs. Natasha turned back around and continued, "Strap in. Steve and Wanda are almost back and I want to be in the air five seconds after that."

Bucky's eyes flicked to you in puzzlement at the sound of a soft hiss, like that of a snake, followed by a crackle or a popping noise. He may have looked elsewhere, but you'd made a soft shushing noise that drew his eye.

That shushing sound was followed by a tired sigh when Sam lifted a brow at you as he went about helping you rearrange the blanket so you could strap in but remain covered. "I wish I knew, Sam," you replied to that lifted brow and Bucky wished he knew why he didn't believe you.

You sat in the sand and watched the ocean crash against the shore, letting the sound soothe you. Feeling hot and itchy most days, thanks to your experience at the hands of the weird cult that had abducted you, this was often the only peace you could find. Most days saw you driving down from the house in the mountains to sit here and let the wind and the waves ease your mind and soothe the soul.

Today, however, you couldn’t seem to settle, upset by the conversation you’d had with Steve that morning. He’d wanted to apologize for overstaying their welcome, and assure you they’d be moving on soon.

After your rescue, they had come to stay with you in the house you’d inherited from your uncle. Tucked away in the heavily forested mountains of Oregon’s Coastal Range, it was big, secluded, and ideal for hiding five fugitives. You’d simply been happy to help, to give them a safe place to rest.

Now you were dealing with the fact that you didn’t want them to leave. You were chilled, sick at the thought of rattling around in the big house with nothing for company but your thoughts and the memory of what had happened in a house in upstate New York. You may have traveled three thousand miles to escape what had happened that night, but you couldn't escape what was now yours, whether you'd wanted it or not.

The soft hiss in your ear warned you that someone was approaching, but you were surprised when that someone flopped onto the cool sand next to you with a huff of irritation. "Huh. What a shitty day at the beach."

Damned if you knew why the surly bitch did it for you, but Bucky Barnes had charmed the fuck out of you by not being the least bit charming.

He wasn't mean, or rude, not by a long shot. He was unfailingly kind and polite and genuinely grateful for the shelter. You could see the good man underneath the pissiness, but Bucky was perpetually baffled and annoyed by most of the world around him. He never complained, really, but he regarded everything with a vaguely hostile skepticism. You could not understand why you thought him adorably sexy, the big, grumbly bastard.

"Good thing we’re not at the beach," you replied with a laughing sneer, your habitual attitude towards him as it prompted that ridiculous half-smile. You fucking adored that sly smirk. "We’re on a beach. We’re at the coast."

Bucky gave you his amused disgust face and made you melt. He picked up a handful of sand and held it up to let it run through his fingers in a rather accusatory fashion. You waved him away. "I would think a Broody McBrooderface like yourself would immediately get this."

You gestured at your surroundings, a lonely beach on a winter day in the Pacific Northwest. Clouds covered the sky and boiled over the sea, turning the waves into a stormy bluish gray that reflected in the eyes of the man that watched you with a reluctant fascination. The wind whipped around you both, tumbling his hair around his sculpted face and making you think of the covers of trashy romance novels from an earlier era. Moody and bleak, a cold winter day at the coast was made for Bucky Barnes.

A long, charged pause as he stared at your profile in disgusted astonishment.

"What?"

You couldn't stop the snort at the sound of pure stupified horror in his voice. You didn't know which part of what you said he found objectionable, but the insult of something clearly offended him. You didn't usually get this much reaction out of him, so you had to assume it was the new nickname.

"The beach," you replied snottily, "is where you go to relax in the sun or swim in the ocean." You tilted your head to fix him with an intense stare. "But we’re in the ring of fire, Bucky, and the ocean doesn’t play with the shore here. We’re at the coast, where the sea meets the land with force." You gestured out at the dark waves as they continued to crash and pound on the sand, curls of violent energy breaking upon the shore. "The beach is for fun; the coast is where you go to brood."

With that, you uncrossed your arms and placed your hands at your sides on the cold, dry sand behind you, bracing yourself as you leaned back, a smirk on your lips. You loved informing him of opinions as though you had just bested him with facts. The way his lips tightened when he was holding back laughter made your heart gallop.

Your breathing joined your heart in its race and sped as well when Bucky's eyebrow quirked in addition to the happiness that gathered in the corners of his lips. "Broody McBrooderface?" he asked, doubt collecting in his eyes and his furrowed brow. His voice was still rich with the disgust that had characterized his earlier question. The combination made you sputter with mirth before giving up and dissolving into a fit of laughter. You fell back onto the sand to wrap your hands around your middle and hold on as you cackled and snickered.

When you calmed enough to look at Bucky, he'd shifted so that he was leaning on one arm, turned towards you to grin delighted at your laughter. He was so pretty, white teeth against the dark brown of his beard, thick hair tumbled in the wind around him. You hoped you didn't look as starry eyed as you felt. Some days it was harder than others to not bodily tackle the man, but it seemed tacky, not to mention gross, to accost a houseguest.

His satisfied smirk turned into a look so hot with promise you could feel it in your toes. "So you don't wanna go skinny dipping?"

You laughed even as you cringed, your body tightening at the memory of underestimating the Pacific Ocean's wilder moods on visits to your uncle during your childhood. You shook your head as a chill at the thought ran down your spine. "I double-dog dare you to jump in that water." Bucky crooked another brow and then surprised you by leaping to his feet in a move shockingly graceful in its deadly arc. He was off in a run in the very next second towards the waves. You sat up to shout after him but he was faster than you'd thought possible. "But don’t say I didn’t warn you about the FROSTBITE!"

If he hesitated for a second, you didn't see it. Fully clothed in the athletic wear he’d donned to run down to the beach, he leapt over a terrifying curving beast of a wave into the now dark gray and, you expected, freezing cold water. You got to your feet to follow him to the edge where the sea lapped at the shore, a little wary to find out how the grumpy super-soldier would react to the Pacific's bite.

The two of you argued all the way back to your car.

"The least you could do is give me a ride back to the house." Bucky didn't seem like the water had really fazed him beyond pissing him off. He wasn't shivering, his teeth weren't chattering, but his jaw was set in severe irritation and his eyes blazed with banked anger. He was so fucking hot it made you crazy.

"My seats will get soaked." You couldn't help it; he was so sexy when he looked like he wanted to murder the world. You didn't know what was wrong with you, but the way he was striding up the beach toward the parking lot where you'd left your car made you shudder with lust. You had to fuck with him a little more, irritate him just that little bit extra. Maybe it was because of what had happened to you, but you needed to toss a little more gasoline on the fire. "I only brought a towel for sand, not for swimming. Besides, I told you it was cold as fuck; you jumped in anyway."

"I can't run home like this, I'm fucking freezing." The look Bucky shot you was so vicious, your heart kicked in response, but in desire rather than fear. He was perfectly bristly and annoyed now, his bright blue eyes blazing and his sculpted cheeks flushed with temper. You could eat him alive.

"You should have thought of that before you jumped in an ocean that is obviously not into your shit right now.” You deliberately kept your tone and demeanor casual as you stopped at the water fountain at the top of the beach to rinse the sand off your feet. “It's not like I would have thought less of you if you'd stopped when I warned you about how cold it was."

Mostly clean and aware based on experience that mostly clean was the best you were going to do, you dropped the rubber flip-flops in your hand and slipped your wet feet into them as Bucky glared at you.

“I would have thought less of me,” he replied with a sneer that made you want to lean in and bite his plump lower lip. “I took a dare. I'll finish a dare.”

Unable to help yourself, you burst into delighted laughter, throwing your head back in the pure enjoyment of him as you nearly stumbled down the sidewalk toward your car. Bubbling and cheerful, the warm chuckles poured out of you until Bucky was grinning at you, albeit reluctantly.

You were somewhat calm by the time you got to your car. You turned to Bucky with a sparkling smile, the laughter still trembling on your lips and Bucky’s heart kicked in response this time.

“You’re fun, Bucky.” You leaned against the driver’s side door and grinned at him over the roof of the car. “A little bonkers, but fun.” Shooting him a sassy wink, you opened the door and slid in. “Fine, get in the car."

“I know this is a big ask.”

Bucky was sweating, but he was determined not to let you see that. He was asking a lot of you and he knew it. If he didn’t believe it was important, for you as well as himself, he’d never have had the courage.

“I’m really more confused.” Bucky made himself stop watching the way your lips shaped the words when you spoke, your eyes wary and your brow furrowed. “If you don’t mind me asking, why don’t you want to go with them?”

He didn’t think you’d noticed how he watched you, fascinated by the curving whip of your movements, like flame had become part of you. He couldn’t help but focus on you, obsessed with both the magic and mystery of you. How could he stop himself when he could also hear your mutters under your breath? He was concerned yet intrigued by the admonishments to behave yourself.

He’d had numerous fantasies about misbehaving with you.

Bucky’s attention moved to the way your fingers fidgeted with the book in your lap. He couldn’t explain why, but he loved to watch you move. There was a grace and beauty there that he’d rarely seen and always treasured. He’d seen too much ugly and cruel to take anything as pretty or as kind as you were for granted. He'd made a study of you because it soothed him somehow to do so.

Your hands weren't fidgeting in agitation, concern, or fear; all of which he'd seen and memorized. Through trial and error he'd learned how to distract you from whatever had you picking at your cuticles in anxiety and, sometimes, something that looked perilously close to panic, but he could see that wasn't necessary now. You were fidgeting absently, the same way you had been for the entire conversation, not in response to his request.

Bucky was still a little struck by his daring in asking if he could stay when the others moved on. He hadn't known if he'd have the nerve when he walked to the little library where you often sat in the window seat so you could read with your face to the mountain air coming through the open window. But when you'd looked up with a smile when he'd poked his head in and asked for a minute, he'd known even if you said no, he could trust you to be gentle.

"I don’t want to fight anymore."

By the way your eyebrows flew up and your lips parted before you paused, Bucky could see that you were as surprised by the blunt honesty of his answer as he was. But he was asking a lot of you and he knew it. Harboring an international fugitive was only the least of it. You knew his reputation, and that it was based on fact, yet you'd welcomed him into your home. He had to be honest with you if he was going to ask anything more than that already unimaginable kindness.

He smiled at you, but he couldn't stop the sadness, the exhaustion of a century's worth of years from quivering around his mouth. Your eyes, scanning his face under those expressive eyebrows, softened and your lips twisted with wry sympathy. "Of course you don't. Why would you?"

Bucky relaxed back into the plush little sofa where he'd taken the seat you'd offered when he started this conversation. He now knew it was going to be reasonably painless. Something about you almost always put him at ease within only a few minutes in your company. Maybe it was the way you listened to him, both the things he said, and the things he could only speak around.

Somehow he always ended up saying more than he'd intended.

"I didn’t volunteer, you know." You tilted your head in question, so he continued, not sure where the words were coming from. "Not like Steve, who wanted in so bad he kept trying to get past the physical. I was drafted." Bucky laughed a little and lifted his hands to rub them over his face, dragging them through his hair before threading his fingers together behind his head. "I just wanted to settle down to a normal life and try to keep my best friend from dying from one of the thousand things trying to kill him. Instead…" As he trailed off he shrugged and noticed your eyes drop to his chest in what he would swear was appreciation.

The corner of Bucky's mouth was lifting in a crooked half-smile when your eyes flicked to his. Bright and intense, he felt pinned by your gaze as the still forming grin fell from his face. "Instead you got to be a prisoner of war for sixty-odd years," you said, your voice full of the wry sympathy that still lived in the slight curve to your lips, "only to discover that things are still trying to kill your best friend?" In the next instant, that searing stare was gentle with understanding, your eyes warm with concern. "You're a little fucking tired?"

Bucky huffed out another of those little laughs, the only kind he really had these days. A little fucking tired was an understatement if he'd ever heard one, but the fact that you saw that so easily explained why he was even asking this of you. "You get it," he said, that half-smile coming back in a sweeter form. "That's why I'd like to stay here, actually." Your lips had started to curve in response to the little half-laugh, even that much heard only occasionally, when the warmth in his face sparked an answer in yours, charming you with the little glimpse of sweetness under all the salt.

Bucky's breath caught a little at the look on your face, the way the movement of your hands had smoothed as you absently toyed with the hardback still in your lap. He could see you relax by degree in his presence and wondered if you were as soothed by his company as he was by yours. "I don't want you to think you have to say yes," he heard coming out of his mouth, more honesty he couldn't help, but he didn't want you to feel pressured. "I'd rather stay here in the States, but I'm not homeless if it doesn't work for you. If it's a no, I promise, no hard feelings. I have another option lined up. I understand if you don't want to stay alone with a man you barely know."

He was starting to worry based on the soft, gentle look that remained on your face. You normally smirked and teased him, poking at his gruff exterior with a playfulness that had charmed him completely. You may not have known it, but you had him firmly wrapped around your fingers. This tenderness made him afraid you were about to let him down easy. He braced himself for rejection.

"Alright," you murmured thoughtfully, your eyes kind if shrewd as they rested on his face. He wondered what you saw when you looked at him, how much you saw beneath the surface. "If you wanna stay, we'll have to have a few ground rules, a couple of understandings."

Bucky's face lit up in surprised delight as his heart began to pound. He hadn't really expected you to say yes, and so hadn't prepared for the rush of excitement and satisfaction that ran through him at the prospect of getting to know you without feeling like he was being watched by his friends. His heart speeding a little, a hot shudder of anticipation working through him at the prospect, he shot you a bright and reckless grin. "I was afraid you were gonna say that."

Something dark and hungry moved in a flash over your face. Bucky's heart raced in answer despite his uncertainty that he'd even seen the lightning fast emotion. He wanted to be your friend first, but he couldn't deny he'd found inside himself a well of desire for you so deep he'd yet to find the bottom. He could only hope you felt some fraction of that for him.

"First and most important understanding," as you spoke your eyes flattened and your mouth tightened, your gaze on his face reminding him of the first time he'd seen you, "I am not afraid of you." The words were a warning, not a threat, but the hair on the back of Bucky's neck stood up. "If you're going to live here for the foreseeable," you continued, your face softening again into something lonely and sad, "I need to be clear on this point. I have no reason, whatsoever, to be afraid for my own safety. Not anymore."

The hollow tone to your voice was a chilling counterpoint to the fingers wrapped in white-knuckled terror around your book. Bucky could see you were trying to tell him that you were still dangerous, despite how deceptively harmless you looked when not bathed in flame.

"The fire?" Bucky didn't know he still had that much tenderness inside him for anyone, but he could hear the gentle sympathy in the two words clearly. By the tentative smile teasing the corners of your mouth, you could hear it, too.

"I would tell you if I thought you weren't safe." You looked sick with worry that he'd reject you and Bucky could see that he was right; the two of you needed each other. You went on in a little rush, your eyes dipping to your hands still clutching the book in your lap. You frowned as you spoke and he watched you deliberately uncurl your fingers as though you were carefully calming yourself. "I don't believe you're in any danger here. I will absolutely tell you if that changes."

Bucky always preferred when people were matter of fact in their questions about him and his issues. He figured he should start there and see how you responded. "Can you control it?" he asked, his voice unconcerned, his posture unchanging from his easy sprawl against the corner of the couch.

Apparently, you also liked plain speaking as you smiled a little more, this time with a wry exasperation that piqued his interest. "Some. More persuade."

Bucky's heart throbbed as he asked the question he knew you'd least like to answer. He wished he didn't feel like he had to, but he needed to know how not to incite the blaze. His voice soft as a whisper, as tender as a touch, "What set it off that night?"

The look on your face sent a chill down Bucky's spine, your eyes empty and cold and nothing like the warmth he'd come to expect and adore. Your voice as hollow as he'd ever heard it, you answered with just enough information to somewhat explain. "Joseph was going to hurt me."

Upon your recovery from the forest surrounding the house in upstate New York where you'd been held against your will, it had become clear that you'd been snatched up by one of the occult offshoots that often split from HYDRA. As HYDRA was itself founded as an occult offshoot of the Nazi war machine, it wasn't really a surprise that it so often shed more of the same. The one that had taken you, however, had apparently been particularly weird and cultish, the leader, Joseph, convinced of his own superiority and seeking the power he believed to be his due. You hadn't spoken much of what had happened to you while held captive by them, by him, but Bucky could recognize pain and trauma when they were right in front of him.

"Since I won't be hurting you," he said gently, the words both reassurance and promise, "it shouldn't be a problem." When your eyes, blurred with memory, focused back in on his face, Bucky's lips curved slightly, the smile sweeter than any he'd given you yet.

Your lips curved in response as a soft sigh that didn't come from you whispered at the edge of Bucky's hearing. His ears perked even as he kept his eyes on yours, his expression betraying nothing but the warm appreciation he always had for you. The next moment, however, his attention was caught and held by the grin you flashed, sparkling and friendly. "That's what I was thinking," you chirped and looked happier than he'd ever seen you.

The sight had his body tightening in lust even as his heart squeezed. Bucky had always been a romantic with a love of making a pretty girl smile. Being able to make you smile like this made him feel like he was getting another piece of himself back. Still, he wanted you to know that you could trust him with more than just your physical safety.

"Do you wanna tell me about it?" he offered, his voice gentle again.

"Maybe," you said, and Bucky cursed himself when your smile dimmed. You shrugged and looked back down at your hands where they'd tried to tense around the book. "I might need to. You gonna tell me about you?"

"Some." He answered quickly, without hesitation, though he grinned sheepishly when your eyes lifted to his in suspicion. "Probably."

When your eyes remained narrowed on his even as the corners of your mouth twitched with suppressed humor, Bucky narrowed his eyes back at you. To his surprised delight, that sparkling smile came back. You stretched the denim clad legs you'd had curled under you out and relaxed into the pillow at your back.

"Then rule number one," you said cheerily, an interesting heat in your eyes, "is that you continue to be your usual hostile self. It revs my engine." The cheer on your face took on a darker edge, your smile more like a dare. Bucky's eyes narrowed once again, but this time his gaze glittered with desire, with the urge to take that dare.

"Does it?"

You bit your lower lip as his voice rumbled through the air and into you. Bucky could swear he saw goosebumps erupt over the skin of your arms when he spoke, the desire riding him clear in that quiet question.

You laughed, a little breathless, and grinned at him, a cheeky taunt all over you. He was dazzled by the flash of your smile, the sparkle in your eyes, the whipping movements of your hands as you gestured while you spoke. "Rule number two is that you make yourself at home." You pointed a mock stern finger at him and made him smile. "Don't be a houseguest or stand on ceremony. I want you to be genuinely comfortable. If you have to stay under house arrest for now, you should be able to do so as painlessly as possible."

There you went being sweet and kind in addition to being sexy and adorable. Bucky didn't know if he could take it. He was beginning to think he was in over his head but he couldn't find a thing not to like about it.

"Steve keeps me in line." Bucky smirked as he teased. "Once he's gone I'll make you regret that."

You looked delighted with him and Bucky could have wept with gratitude. Spending time with you was helping him remember parts of himself he'd thought long dead, like the boyish flirt he'd once been, but he was equally grateful that he seemed to be good for you, too.

"Okay," you purred as you smirked back at him, "in case Steve has kept you in line in other ways, rule three is you clean up after yourself. I will be very annoyed if you start leaving dirty dishes or clothes around once he's gone." One eyebrow lifted in mock warning and Bucky could have cuddled you.

"He’s the slob, actually." Bucky huffed out a laugh and shook his head. "You're making this too easy, doll."

He couldn't be sure, but for a moment you looked shy and a little vulnerable. Bucky's heart squeezed again as he quivered with the conflicting desires to both ravage and protect. When you glanced at him from under bashful lashes, he felt torn between.

"Am I?" The murmur of your voice was rich with something dark and exciting, something that lit up his ear and made his stomach tighten.

Bucky's voice was husky on his reply as he offered both clarification and escape route. He wanted everything on the table before the negotiations came to a close. "Any other rules?" His face spread in a hot, almost feral grin, one that left no doubts as to what rules he was asking about. "Any other lines you don’t want crossed?"

The corner of your mouth lifted in a grin equally hungry, equally reckless. "Nothing comes to mind." Your eyes reminded him of sultry whispers, heated words. "I think we can play it by ear from there."

Bucky felt his heart race in exhilaration and wondered what he'd gotten himself into. He couldn't wait to find out. "I’m happy to dance to your tune."

Part Two here >>

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ofmythsandmadness · 3 years

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don’t leave so fast | d.h

You don’t always have the chance to have him to yourself. But you still want more. (or, post s2!diego has a hair kink. but make it subtle & intimate.) WORD COUNT: 1.3k WARNINGS: i don’t think there’s anything bad. feel free to correct me. A/N: This is a gender!neutral fic, as usual. This is the only productive thing I’ve done today and it feels stupid but eh. In the state of pain I’m in, I guess that’s something I’m going to have to live with. I don’t know how to title or label this mess, I haven’t even read through this (if it’s bad, I’m sorry, I cannot concentrate on literally anything).

IT’S RARE THAT YOU GET A MOMENT ALONE. Much less an entire night. You half expect the next blink to reveal that it’s all a dream and that somewhere out there, cold and alone is your boyfriend. That the soft sounds of the television program you’re half-watching will swing to instead the harsh whistling of wind and honking cars beneath your apartment that always keep you up at night.

You let your eyes shut for a second. When you open them, your hands still and you glance around the tiny living room just to make sure this isn’t some elaborate dream sequence. That he’s still there.

“Baby? You okay?”

He must have realised the fingers you had been tugging through his long locks had stopped and taken that as a bad thing. His head perks in your lap; for a moment, you catch the soft honey brown of his eyes peering up at you, trying to reassure himself that you’re okay.

Your heart aches, at that.

“I’m okay,” you reassure, and resume your soft work. “Just lost in thought.”

He settles back against your legs. One of his hands drapes lazily against the couch but the other’s found itself cradling your right thigh. He squeezes gently, making you squirm. “Good, or bad kinda lost?”

You hum, absent-mindedly twisting a strand of almost-black around your index. There really isn’t a right answer there. You don’t want to interrupt the moment and tell him how bittersweet it all feels, knowing this kind of night probably won’t happen again, but lying is a tricky battle to win against Diego. He always likes to joke the one thing he picked up from the Academy was the ability to read a person -- and he might be kidding, but you’re not when you think he could see right through you, twenty-four-seven.

“Babe?”

Your fingers pause again, before picking right back up. “Sorry. I...I was just thinking about your hair.”

He adjusts again, staring up at you at an awkward half-turned angle that’s almost funny. His lips pucker, then fall lax again. You wonder if you reach down far enough, if you could kiss them. “My hair?”

“Yeah. You know...I know you said you want to cut it, but I like it.” A gentle smile pulls; you let it sweep the uneasy frown once worn back under the rug. “It’s soft. I like playing with it.”

“Oh, well in that case…”

You chuckle, patting the sides of his face as he turns. “I know, I know you have your reasons -- but it’s just been so long since I’ve had someone’s hair to braid. N’doing your own hair isn’t nearly as fun as playing with others.”

Diego contemplates your half-joke, half confession with more thought than you expected. “Huh.”

“But, of course, if you wanna cut it--”

“--it does feel nice.”

You stiffen. Your hands fall from his hair as he half-lifts from your lap; his body hovers in the most awkward angle right in front of you, but neither you nor him notice.

“Yeah?”

“Sure,” he shrugs, and a bashful grin threatens to poke through. “I-I mean, it feels nice enough. Relaxing.”

He’s pretty then. He’s always pretty, but he’s a painting as he watches your face twist up in thought; the television’s flashing lights illuminates his cheeks, his skin lighting up into a million different shades of colour in a way that makes you wish you could kiss every centimetre of it and tell him how it tastes. His eyes wash with emotion and look almost wet -- whether that be the shadows or his own unshed tears, you cannot tell.

He presses forward and his forehead comes to rest against yours. Slowly, his slender fingers interlace with your own, moving them up to his lips. You shiver as he kisses your tips.

“You’re a wonder, y’know that?”

“D’aw,” you scoff, but it comes out breathless and shaky as he kisses down your hands. “Baby...it’s really nothing.”

“I don’t just mean the hair.”

You fall silent as he works against your skin. Soft kisses press into your wrists, your elbows, up your arms and they fall like butterflies against the available skin around your shoulder. His hands fall from yours so he can press against your waist, holding him closer to you. He still cranes his neck in the awkward position he sits in, but somehow he manages to nuzzle your collarbones, up your neck, taking his fluttery pecks up until he reaches your jaw.

“Baby…”

He smiles against your chin; you feel his expression shift and vibrate slightly like he’s holding back a laugh. He kisses your cheeks, lingering on the blushing apples before kissing up your nose to your forehead, then down before his just parted lips rest above your own.

It’s a cliche you as a couple has never experienced. Hell, you’ve barely ever had a quiet moment -- your relationship is built off flashes of romance and intimacy you have to hold onto for hours after he’s gone, wondering when the next good moment will come. He usually kisses fast and rough and never with the delicacy of a painter, addressing the last final touches of his newest masterpiece.

Your breath comes stuttered, soft as he pulls you in. His nose brushes against yours; you almost squeak, somehow unsure about what the hell’s gonna come next.

He smiles wider, huffing the slightest hint of a laugh again. It’s a beautiful sound; you wish you had the capabilities to frame it and hold it forever against your skin. “You want me to keep my hair long?”

“S-yeah,” you mutter back. “If you - if you do.”

“Will you,” he hesitates then, and a shadow of nervousness flashes against his skin before he continues, “will you play with it? Like you are, or did?”

The smile that overtakes your face is like a forest fire; it floods your senses, leaving your mind in overdrive as you fold against his skin. You wonder if the flames licking up your limbs burn him too, but the thought dies just as you lift your hands to his hair, tugging lightly at the lowest locks just at the nape of his neck.

“Like this?” you wonder, barely brushing your lips against his. “Or -- like this?” Your hands fold into his hair, running across his scalp and everywhere you can touch before --

-- you’re both a tangle of limbs and smiles as he pushes you down into the couch, your hands still tangled up in his glorious mess of grown out tresses. His lips graze once before swooping in, taking you with a deep, hot kiss that makes your toes curl. But there’s more as he licks at your bottom lip, making you moan as he drives deeper into your mouth and his hands crush into your waist. There’s more than just desire, then the feeling of need that usually leaves both of your feeling empty and lonelier than before.

“Just like that, baby,” he moans softly, and he cannot hide the smile that you embrace, kissing you with a warmth you’ve never felt from him before. Not in that way. He’s clumsy as he plunges down again but you take him anyways, giggling as his tongue snakes across your bottom lip and his teeth follow. He’s slow with his motions, slow from moving from just kissing you, he’s savoring every second that he gets to touch you and that, that is what gets you the most.

You marvel at the fact that you even have this. That any of this is happening, that he’s yours, holding your waist to him and pressing kisses into your jaw that make you shiver and cling tighter.

But there’s time for this intimacy between you, for that feeling of love that spills from his lips and soak through your own. Maybe there’ll be more times like this, too.

REMEMBER...if you liked this, please like, reblog, let me know what you thought. follow, if you feel like it; i do from time to time, remember how to string words together and post stuff like this (generally for tua, but can do for other fandoms too). check out my kofi in my bio if you feel generous! x

#diego hargreeves x reader #diego hargreeves drabble #tua x reader #diego hargreeves #diego hargreeves imagine #mine

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the1918 · 3 years

Text

2020 for the1918

Am I the last person to make this list? Maybe. Do I regret that? Yes. Am I making it anyways because my cognitive behavioral therapy is teaching me fix my avoidance issues? Also Yes.

Let’s do this: @The Trees In Front of Cevans’s House and @Bucky’s Arm... you da real MVPs.

But other than them...

Thank You to Everyone that Truly Made My 2020:

@cantabile-l Jo (Daddy Dumpster™ Co-Founder) — I have to list you first. How could I not? Every friendship I’ve made in this fandom comes back to you. We literally bonded over porn lookalikes and started this craziness called the Stucky Porn Lookalikes Archive ( @stucky-lookalikes-archive ) to preserve the porn, and it now has now has 85k hits and 500 bookmarks (!!!?!!). But it’s more than that, even more than starting the Daddy Dumpster™ and bonding over culihos. Bespoke got finished because you got me excited enough to want it, just like half a dozen other fics. You were also the basis for many, many other friendships that I list below. Your nesting head canons were the inspiration for so, so many A/B/O moments in my fics. We’re so on the same length on an intellectual and spiritual level (I feel like you and me and @ixalit are three parts of one whole ❤) and I am in love with you for it. Culihos forever.

@hanitrash Hani (O.G. Dumpster™ Citizen) —I’m so, so damn glad you’re in my life. We share that sick sense of humor and refusal to adopt a filter. You add flavor to our Dumpster™ with your wit, and I feel so warm when you share pics and updates about the family with us. You were the first person I ran to when I “discovered” HTP and you held my hand 😂 And Jesus—your talent. I could go on and on and on about Through The Darkness I Heard Your Voice and Private Showing, but also one of my New Year’s resolutions is to start reading your work as Loralynne Summers. Thank you for making me smile every day of last year since April.

@trekchik Jini (O.G. Dumpster™ Citizen) — I can’t speak to the number of laugh-out-loud, belly-grabbing, cackling moments I have had in a year that could easily have been shit otherwise, all because of you. I feel like you’ve truly become a member of my family; like, I see you posting in the Dumpster™ when I wake up in the morning and I think to myself, “Oh, what’s the fam up to today?”. I know I’ve gone on and on about your talent (absolute queen of dialogue and pacing) before, but I don’t thank you enough for keeping the Porn Archive alive when the rest of us are slacking. Your Stucky Tumblr Drabbles (especially the meet cutes) puts a smile on half the fandom’s face regulary, and I’m excited to re-read the wonderful Anagnorsis & Peripeteia soon. Here’s to another year of weird dildo pictures.

@thegodswife Amanda (Dumpster™ Citizen) — I feel like we were literally destined to become friends. The love I feel for you and your little family is real and immense, and I feel like your victories (in life and in writing) are my victories. You have made a slow but steady convert of me to Shrinkyclinks with fics like peaches and because it's christmas, and I am in awe of your talent for writing charged dynamics with jaw-dropping moments. This fandom is lucky to have such a gem as you. 2021 is going to be the Year of Amanda (*clinks Lindeman’s Framboise glasses 🥂*)

@ixalit Max (Dumpster™ Citizen) — My relationship with you has and continues to be lifechanging for more reasons than I can even go into on tumblr. You make me laugh. You make me cry (usually in good ways). You make me horny by supplying the #porn-and-fun as the dutiful resident horny teenage boy of Dumpster™. I remember so clearly when we first messaged talking about your Evanstan thoughts and fics, and I knew your writing was special then (omg, Hiraeth?? How dare). You deserve all the success you earned in 2020 and every bit more success that you will continue to have this year. There is no one else I would rather have with me as we make this ~journey through Song of the Rolling Earth together.

@becassine Bex (Dumpster™ Citizen) — What can I say about my lucky charm? 🍀 I found our friendship later in the year and I feel it was truly central to the way I finished out my year with a bang (lol). Your encouragement to finish Bespoke supercharged me, and I’m still riding that high in writing SoRE. But for every bit we talk about you being the Queen of Hype (Becassine, First of Her Name), I am also stunned by your own gorgeous writing. The Way I Feel For You is a gift to this fandom and it’s gonna keep rocking our world, along with any other creative endeavor you choose to embark on. Thank you for the treasure of your continued friendship.

@darter-blue Bec (Dumpster™ Citizen) — My gorgeous, gorgeous cunt of a friend. What ever am I going to do with you? I feel like you and I have clicked so perfectly and so instantly, and I feel such a strong connection to you. I have been enamored with your skill and your style since I first stumbled across your Sergeant Barnes and Colonel Rogers: A Love Story series and then rapidly gobbled up your other writing. Getting to collab with you on No Vacancies was a dream come true. You make me feel so connected to the outside world and humanity even in this bizarre time and even though you’re on the other side of the world.

@kalee60 Kel (Dumpster™ Citizen) — You flawless sass-master. You brilliant human. You tricky little bastard. What a perfect addition to the Dumpster™ you have been! And your talent, Jesus... just being around you makes me want to write. I have truly never seen someone with as much talent write so prolifically, and I am in very real awe of it. If I had to pick “Fic of the Year” for me, I would not hesitate to pick Push The Button—it turned my world upside down—but for as much as we talk about that epic, your AU Extravaganza is really miracle to behold. And I am so, so pumped for you during this exciting time coming up in your life. Here’s to magnificent year for you in 2021!

@andysmountains Andy Gator Lord 🐊 — You’ve changed my life. I’m sitting here and I honestly don’t know how else to put it. You’re hilarious and you’re a ball of sunshine and you have kept this breeder feeling rooted to reality (in a great way) and remembering how to smile during some of the shittiest times I can remember. Newts. You’ve helped me explore my identity, and I’m not sure what greater gift you could have given me. Also, I’ve never heard true love whispered more sincerely than when I see 🔪—and I would give you nine hundred and ninety-seven 🔪 now if not for the fact that you have literally beat me to it.

@ceratonia-siliqua Cera — We’ve shared so much. I feel so privileged that you’ve picked me to be a person that you want to talk to during hard times because you’re such a special guy, and because you’ve got talent that the world needs to see forever and ever and ever (I continue to blown away by what you did in Sunshine, and none of us are ready for Quilt Fic™) and I hope you never stop writing your whole damn heart out. I truly love you. I do. Thank you for reminding me that there is endless humanity and prose in this world.

@howdoyousleep3 K — I feel like 2021 couldn’t be starting off better now that you’re in my life again. Last year was largely defined for me by the time I spent with you, and I’ve truly been changed by you and your writing. You are an endless amount of inspiration for me and this whole community; I would bet real money that the number of Daddy Kink converts that owe their new *interest* to finding your Daddy Steve Rogers/Baby Bucky Barnes series numbers in the hundreds (not to mention your other AUs). But fics aside, I had so many smiles and laughter throughout 2020 because of you, and I owe such a big part of my happy heart to you and your presence in my life. You have a huge, caring heart. Cheers to Cevans continuing to be a giant, bro-ish man slut and us never stopping giving him shit for it — and here’s to Trucker Bucky and his bug.

@lullabybeauty Bee — I’m not sure I would still be writing if it weren’t for you. The interest you took in my fics and endless support you’ve provided have turned me into a real-life 🥺🥺🥺 face so many times I can’t count them. But more than the hype you provide, you are an amazing person, and I hope you never stop putting (and ceaselessly keeping) the word out in our community through your blog that Black Lives Matter and black women matter now and forever; it’s far too easy for those of us who are white to let that truth fade from our minds when there’s not something terrible happening in the news, and I’m so thankful for your posts filling up my dash with reminders I need to be a good ally and giving me information to share with others. Thank you for the gift of yourself.

@ywecanthavenicethingsanymore Caroline—You sort of swooped out of nowhere for me and boosted my confidence through the roof. Your comments and your hype and your hilarious tags remind me every day that writers are only half of the fanfiction equation; all we do without supportive friends like you is sit in the corner dreaming of stories we don’t have the confidence or feel-good to put to words. Thank you for your constant support and for being so. damn. cool.

@littlesurfergrl Heather—Oh, Heather. Queen of the A+ tags. Sender of inbox updates about what time you get off of work and why you’re vibrating to read a fic. All-around beautiful person. Your love and support is magic in my veins.

@hoeforthegays Baby J—I am so damn excited for this creative project you’ve taken on; you are so talented. I look forward to our thirst talks all the time. You make me laugh with your screaming and even your advice. Such a source of sunshine in my life.

@capbvckyrogers / @tae-withsuga Cam — You were the first person who ever reblogged a farmer daddy post. You were the first person who ever sent me a prompt. Honestly, you were the first person who ever bonded with me over a character. There zero (0) chance I would have enjoyed fandom (or certainly any kind of creative success) the way that I did in 2020 if not for you. Thank you, endlessly.

@justice-for-plums Kenz — Another “late in the year” friendship find that I am so grateful for. I love our talks! I am so thankful you felt comfortable to reach out and talk about writing. Our workshopping has helped remind me of what works and what doesn’t for me, and I love the creative collaboration on head canons! Excited for more in 2021.

Shrunkyclunks Bitches®, or those not mentioned already above: @dreadlockholiday (co-founder of the Bitches® with @justice-for-plums and #1 reason I blushed last year), @oh-i-swear-writes @wayward-lives @allegedlyann and others I either am missing on tumblr or forgetting (but not because I don’t love you) — Here’s to Cap Steve and modern Bucky and 1,000,000+ words written during our writing sprints in 2021. [Bitches® server membership is open by the way! If you love Shrunkyclunks, contact Dready @dreadlockholiday].

And to the endless list of others who made me smile, laugh, sometimes cry, feel proud, but always feel that incredible Stucky love — a list that includes but is certainly not limited to @fishcustardandclintbarton, @hawkeyeandthewintersoldier, @willbakewithstucky, @hannah-stagram, @thewaythatwerust, @bigbraiiin, @musette22, @luninosity, @fandomfluffandfuck, @maddiewritesstucky, @hbalbat, @doctorenterprise, @epicstuckyficrecs, @k347 and the massive important people I know I am forgetting (...like some BIG ones)

To everyone above and anyone else who has scrolled this far:

Thank you.

Let’s all have a fantastic 2021 🥂

#thank you post

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galli-writes · 3 years

Photo

(Click here to read on Ao3!)

fandom: Teen Titans

pairing: BBRae

genre/warnings: AU - Canon Divergence; Implied/Referenced Abuse, Abusive Parents, Childhood Trauma, Graphic Depictions of Violence

additional tags: Angst, Family Issues, Friendship/Love, Protectiveness, Slow Burn, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions

summary:

There are a few things that Beast Boy knows for certain:

He’s 21….and a total lightweight. He’s a vegan (but not like…a pretentious vegan). He’s not going to be single forever.

And the Teen Titans are the only family he’ll ever need.

a/n: Hello everyone! I am finally back--though in a way I guess I never really left. I've been working on this fic on an off since I last posted, but things have been so busy that it's been rather slow going. I'm going to try REALLY hard to keep to a more consistent schedule going forward. The fic is entirely written, but needs some pretty heavy editing. I'm going to shoot for an upload every other Friday from here on out. Thank you all so much for being patient!

Chapter 5: A Helping Hand (words 6,264)

It wasn’t often that Beast Boy played hooky. At least, not when he thought there was a good chance Robin would catch him. Skipping practice was a serious no-go, outside of a few exceptions. Beast Boy knew he wasn’t a good enough actor to feign sickness. The ‘family emergency’ excuse existed strictly as a formality for obvious reasons. Reasons that were starting to seem less obvious now.

The letter in his drawer was already old news--at least to him. Beast Boy knew the contents of the note by heart. The memorization wasn’t intentional, but the words swam around in his head constantly nonetheless. A symptom of a much larger disease, as Raven might have put it. So he’d moved on to obsessively deconstructing and reconstructing the many packages that still littered their living room. Not that doing so had given him any more insight into who Nicholas Galtry was. Or why he had had possession of all of his parents’ things. Or why they were here now. Among the many disjointed thoughts that rattled in his brain, one consistently nudged its way to the top of the pool. That one was also tucked neatly away in a drawer in his room. Though he hadn’t dared to look at the picture since first putting it there.

Beast Boy glanced behind him at the clock in the kitchen. He’d been here an hour already--someone was probably already out looking for him, Robin’s orders. He quickly shut the box he was currently sorting through. It had been the same as all the boxes before it--filled with priceless, nameless items from another place and another time. He felt like a thief, searching his own belongings, not knowing what exactly he hoped to find among them. Each time carefully packing the boxes back as he’d found them. Like a thief, hoping to cover his tracks.

“There you are.”

Beast Boy flinched, instantly shrinking back from the box in front of him. He turned around to face Cyborg looming over him.

“Man, I’ve been lookin’ for you everywhere ,” Cyborg said, a twinge of frustration in his voice. “What the hell are you doin’ up here?”

“Nothing,” Beast Boy said, anxiously getting to his feet. “Just...hanging out.”

Cyborg frowned. “Well maybe you should come ‘hang out’ at training.”

“Training?” Beast Boy repeated automatically.

“Yeah, you know...the thing we have scheduled every single afternoon? At the exact same time? Every day?” Cyborg said, cocking an eyebrow at him. Now he seemed more confused than frustrated—a switch that was very typically Cyborg.

“Right. Training. I was wondering where everyone else was,” Beast Boy answered. It was a poor excuse, but it wasn’t actually a lie.

Cyborg sighed, but there was a hint of a joking smile on his face when he spoke next. “Let’s just get down there before Robin kicks both our asses, okay?”

Beast Boy nodded, and for a moment it was as if the boxes behind him ceased to exist. It currently felt like there were two worlds jammed under one roof, and now that he’d been pulled out of the one behind him, he saw just how much he preferred the one in front of him. Even if it meant getting his ass kicked.

The training field had come a long way from the public school playground it resembled when they’d first settled into the Tower. It was Robin’s ongoing project--adding another ropes course, integrating fully automated sparring dummies...there were even obstacles designed with each of their abilities in mind. Beast Boy was sure that Robin had a Pinterest board dedicated to the fiasco for all of the crazy things he was constantly adding to it.

Which is why Beast Boy was confused to find that none of it was being used.

“Oh no. Don’t tell me--”

“Yep,” Cyborg said, walking the opposite direction of Robin’s martial arts art display.

“Dude, I suck at hand to hand.”

“Probably why Robin thinks you ditched,” Cyborg shrugged.

In the distance, their three remaining teammates were gathered in a clearing at the opposite end of the field. Starfire stood leaning against a tree on the sidelines, water bottle in hand. In the center of a well-worn patch of grass, Robin and Raven circled each other in what seemed to be a never-ending dance.

“So when you said Robin was gonna kick my ass...you meant that literally, didn’t you?” Beast Boy said with a frown.

“Well it might not be Robin who kicks your ass,” Cyborg smiled. “It could be Star, or Raven, or yours truly.”

“Wow, thanks,” Beast Boy grumbled. He knew Cyborg was only teasing, and Beast Boy had been the first to admit that the skillset wasn’t exactly his strong suit. But the remark lingered in his mind a second longer than he knew it should have.

“Okay, so maybe it’s not really your thing, but hey,” Cyborg said, placing a hand on Beast Boy’s shoulder. “Practice makes perfect. You’ll get there.”

“Dude. I turn into animals for a living. Most of which don’t even have opposable thumbs,” Beast Boy said, flexing his own in front of his friend. “I don’t need to be good at something I’m never gonna use.”

Cyborg merely shook his head dismissively. “Never say never, man.”

“Okay, Robin ,” Beast Boy replied with a smirk.

As if on cue, Robin and Raven’s dance came to a halt as soon as the words left Beast Boy’s mouth. He had figured they were still out of earshot, but maybe he’d been wrong.

“There you two are,” Robin said as the two of them stepped into the loosely defined dirt ring. He glanced down at his watch and then directly at Beast Boy. “Beast Boy, you’re twenty minutes late. Practice starts at four. You know that.”

Any trace of teasing Cyborg had expressed instantly evaporated when Robin spoke.

“Uh...four-twenty blaze it?” Beast Boy said with a shrug and a terribly awkward smile. The one that always appeared on his face whenever he didn’t know what else to say--which was more often than he would have liked to admit.

Robin closed his eyes, raising a hand to his temples.

Raven’s facepalm was much less subtle.

“Starfire are you ready to go?” Robin asked, shaking his head slightly.

“Mmm hmm!” Starfire hummed in response.

“Great. Then I’m gonna have you and Beast Boy up next.”

“Uh…” Beast boy shot a glance at Starfire, who was practically the living portrait of an Instagram athlete. “Shouldn’t I warm up first or something?”

“In a real fight, you won’t always get the chance to ‘warm up’ beforehand,” Robin said, crossing his arms over his chest. Which was definitely his way of saying ‘that’s what you get for showing up late’.

“Don’t worry, Beast Boy,” Starfire smiled. “I will try not to injure you too terribly.”

Beast Boy certainly began to feel warm now, to the point where he was sure his face was turning red.

In his peripheral, he saw that Cyborg had cleared the training ring and was now standing beside Raven on the sidelines. She leaned in slightly to her left, whispering something into Cyborg’s ear with a devious smirk.

Beast Boy felt his stomach drop. He didn’t know what was worse. Starfire’s complete sincerity or Raven’s total lack thereof.

But he didn’t have much time to dwell on the thought before it was overtaken completely by a harrowing sense of panic. He had been posed for a fight, staring head on at his partner. But it was only now that his vision snapped back into focus, just in time to catch a whirling ball of green energy headed directly toward him.

He quickly swerved out of the way, trying to regain his balance. But before he could find his footing, another blaze shone at his feet, knocking him straight to the ground. He squinted, eyes beginning to water from the dust cloud that now surrounded him. He wanted to open his mouth to say something--make some complaint that he hadn’t been ready, that there had been no signal to start. But he knew that wouldn’t buy him any sympathy in Robin’s eyes.

Of course, vying for Robin’s attention was even less of a no-go once the sirens started blaring.

Without so much as a nod from the leader in question, everyone took off in the same direction. Everyone except Beast Boy, who was still on the ground.

He pushed himself to his feet, the palms of his hands stinging against the soil. He knew it wasn’t personal. None of this was personal. Kind of like how the sense of isolation and strangeness he’d felt around his friends since the reading that letter certainly wasn’t personal .

But as he watched them disappearing now--not one of them looking back to see if he had followed--it sure felt that way.

So what if calling shotgun was more important than helping him up? He shook his head, now unable to hold back a self-satisfied smirk. No matter how much of a head start they had, no one was going to outrun a cheetah.

Within seconds, the ground flew under his feet like a treadmill set on max speed. When the garage came into view, Beast Boy was relieved to find that it was already open--and more importantly empty. In a flash, he transformed back, and with the same proud smile lingering on his face sauntered over to crack open the passenger door.

His smile instantly disappeared when he saw who was behind it.

“ Raven ?”

Even at her name, she didn’t so much as shoot him a glance. Raven just sat there, comfortably nestled in the passenger seat with her feet kicked up on the dashboard. She scrolled through her phone with a bored expression--like she’d been there for hours.

“How the hell did you beat me?” Beast Boy blurted out, feeling irrationally annoyed as Raven continued to sit there, chewing a piece of gum in silence.

“Want a piece?” she said absentmindedly, materializing a pack of DoubleMint from the locked glove box. There were dozens of other flavors inside--so many packs that they filled almost half the compartment. “It’s Cyborg’s secret stash--but I won’t tell.”

Beast Boy ignored her. “There’s no way you could have beaten me here. I took a shortcut even you don’t know about,” he said curtly.

“Weird, huh?” she said, turning her attention back to her phone. “It’s almost like magic. ”

Beast Boy frowned. “That’s cheating.”

“And you turning into a cheetah clearly isn’t,” she said plainly. Then another sly smile crept onto her face. “Get it? A cheetah ?”

Beast Boy’s face scrunched up in even further annoyance. Without a word, he shut the passenger door, opening the one behind it. He already knew which seat he’d be directed to sit in. Though even calling it a seat was a bit generous. Nevertheless, he’d occupied it since day one because, of course, ‘he was the shortest and it just made sense for him to ride in the middle because if they were ever in a crash the height of the headrest wouldn’t do anyone else any good blah blah blah’. As if something as normal as a car crash would really be enough to injure a bunch of superheroes.

“Alright, let’s get this show on the road,” Cyborg said, swinging open the door to the driver’s seat and hopping inside.

As the doors on either side of him opened and closed in perfect sync, Beast Boy was struck with another harrowing consequence of his seating arrangement.

It was true that Robin and Starfire were relatively tame as far as couples went--at least in terms of explicit PDA. It was only once in a blue moon that you actually caught them exchanging so much as a kiss on the cheek. But there was no denying the magnetic force between them. And it was times like these that Beast Boy felt less like a person and more like a glitch jamming the radio signal.

“Okay,” Robin said, flicking open the communication device on his wrist. A small holographic map appeared above it, marking several heat signatures as they traversed the grid on the screen. In an instant, an identical image appeared on a screen in the center console of the car.

“Looks like they’ve already hit Gorman street,” Cyborg said, glancing at the center console.

“They’re moving fast,” Robin added, adjusting something on the device. “But only because they’ve sacrificed numbers for speed”.

“Well let’s just see if they can outrun this, ” Cyborg replied, revving the engine in response. Within moments, the Tower was far behind them.

Beast Boy leaned forward slightly to look out the window on his left. They hadn’t been driving long at all, but he had no idea where they were. Left and right, worn down warehouse buildings lined the streets as far as he could see. Overhead, a thick gray fog swallowed the entire sky.

“Starfire, I want you and Cy to go after the group of three heading west,” Robin continued, pointing to several figures on the map as he spoke. “I’ll go after the solo. Raven, Beast Boy—you two track the pair heading in the opposite direction.”

Raven didn’t outwardly protest, but her agitated sigh was enough to send its intended message.

After what seemed like only a second later, the car skidded to a halt at the edge of a narrow alley. And without missing a beat, everyone else took off in their respective directions at full speed. This time Beast Boy could confidently blame the middle seat for keeping him a step behind.

“I’ll race ya,” Beast Boy said, throwing a competitive smile at Raven, who had surprisingly seemed to be waiting for him.

“Just hurry up,” she said plainly, looking to the sky.

The streets seemed even more bleak from above.

Every other street light flickered as if choking out its dying breath. Cracks ran down the sidewalks like jagged scars, and chipped paint and graffiti adorned the walls of the decrepit buildings. Beast Boy found himself wondering where everyone was--there were barely even any cars on the streets.

“Ow!” Raven exclaimed suddenly.

Simultaneously, Beast Boy felt his wings crumple under him as he crashed into her from behind. He screeched involuntarily, trying to regain his balance.

“Why are we stopping?” he asked--or rather squawked--momentarily forgetting he was still very much a bird.

Luckily, Raven seemed to get the idea. Without a word, she pointed to two shadowy figures slipping around the corner of a nearby building. She started to open her mouth to say something then, but Beast Boy was already locking in on the figures below.

Without a second thought, he dove sharply down toward one of the shadows in his sight. Talons poised, he only managed to graze the top of his target’s head. Or at least what he could think of as being the thing’s head, as the action felt more like skimming a silhouette than an actual person.

At the very least, the surprise of his attack was enough to knock the figure off balance and trip on some debris below.

Beast Boy landed nearby, skidding onto the asphalt. Back on two legs, he whipped around and morphed once more. A rhino was always a solid play when you didn’t quite know what you were dealing with. He kicked up the rubble under his front foot and ducked his head, preparing for a running start. Then he let his momentum carry him forward--feeling the power of an entire stampede in his muscles--which turned out to be much more than he bargained for.

It was like the wall came out of nowhere. Or maybe he just hadn’t looked before leaping. Though his horn mdulled the impact slightly, Beast Boy felt every shard of cement as the crash sent a shocking ripple through his entire body. When he opened his eyes, he was back to his usual self again. But unlike a moment ago, his head was spinning, and he was on his back watching the dark clouds rolling above. His vision had doubled, even tripled, and he shook his head wearily in an attempt to focus on anything at all. Instead, he saw the shaking image of someone approaching him. And his gut told him it wasn’t one of the people they were after. It was something much worse.

“What the fuck was that?” Raven said, leaning over him with a disapproving pout on her face.

“Rhino,” was all Beast Boy could manage, his head still spinning.

Raven scowled, but extended a hand out to him regardless. When she yanked him to his feet in one swift motion, the gesture suddenly felt less sympathetic.

“We’re supposed to be working together , moron,” she said, her tone biting. “How the hell are we supposed to do that if you knock yourself out before we even catch up to the bad guys?”

Beast Boy didn’t have an answer for that. So he didn’t give one, which probably didn’t help his case any more.

“God, you’re useless,” Raven said, grabbing his wrist and dragging him behind him. “Come on.”

They continued down the natural path of the alleyway uneventfully. And that was what worried Beast Boy most. If he wasn’t going to die at the hands of their enemies, he was sure he’d die of embarrassment knowing he’d let them get away. Again.

Luckily for him, if Raven had any more thoughts on the matter she kept them to herself.

When they reached what seemed to be the end of the narrow street, Beast Boy was somewhat relieved to find that it wasn’t the dead end he had been expecting. Rather, the space before them now opened dramatically into something resembling a large courtyard. The entire perimeter was lined by walls of surrounding brick buildings--the only other entrances and exits to the pavilion being opposing alleyways much like the one they’d just emerged from.

But the courtyard’s strange location certainly wasn’t the most interesting thing about it.

In the very center, shrouded by a cloud of steam trickling through a nearby grate, two figures turned abruptly to meet their gaze. Even though Beast Boy could hardly make out the eyes looking back at them, he knew their stare was a threat.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Raven said quietly, lingering in the shadows for a moment longer.

The words echoed in Beast Boy’s head, this time in his own voice. Then a wave of panic suddenly passed over him. He wasn’t actually sure he knew the difference between what was considered brave and what Raven would consider stupid. And he didn’t exactly have the time to mull it over.

Raven stood next to him, arms outstretched, as a flurry of flying rubble began to swirl around the two figures like a vicious tornado. Everything pulled toward them like scrap metal to a magnetic core--everything from the pebbles on the ground to full sized wooden beams and crates that littered the edges of the arena.

Beast Boy searched desperately through this mind for something to do--something to be. A mouse? Small enough to go unnoticed, but way too slow to bridge the gap between the opposing sides in such a short time. He thought to the opposite end of the spectrum. A gorilla or a bear could give him a boost of much needed strength if he cut back on speed. But maybe that was too on the nose. Just like the rhino.

He bit his lip nervously, catching Raven in his peripheral again. They were supposed to be working together after all--and she had clearly taken the lead. But he had no idea how she expected him to follow.

And suddenly, it occurred to Beast Boy that that was the secret to the riddle. The one way he could truly and certainly ‘not do something stupid’ was by not doing anything at all.

For a moment, he was almost proud of himself for finally cracking the code. But the false sense of pride evaporated as soon as he realized what it implied. Maybe his only use was...being completely useless? And just like that, he felt his stomach twist in a knot again as a familiar sense of embarrassment washed over him.

“Hellooo?” Raven’s voice rang out suddenly, snapping Beast Boy out of his daze.

He turned to look at her, finding her in the same position, teeth clenched and arms shaking ever so slightly as she held her pose.

“I said not to do anything stupid ,” she snarled. “Not ‘don’t do anything at all’!”

Beast Boy blinked hard, absorbing her words--the hint of need in her voice, however faint. And suddenly, miraculously, his feeling of uncertainty disappeared as quickly as it had come.

In a flash he was a mighty T-Rex, half as tall as the building behind him. Charging forward, he reached down and fished out one of the criminals from the fading cyclone. Grabbing the figure by the arm, he swung them into the adjacent wall with ease, a cloud of dust gathering upon the point of contact. A hit that would probably kill the average person; but Beast Boy knew that right now he was just buying time.

From the corner of his eye, he caught the second figure starting to pull out a small radio, shielding it from the winds as they spoke into the device.

But before they could utter more than a sentence or two, Beast Boy spun around, sweeping them off their feet completely with his enormous tail. The person went flying at a ninety degree angle from the last, and he watched as the body hit the crumbling wall with a ‘definitely unconscious’ crash.

Morphing back, Beast Boy stood tall, admiring his work.

Raven appeared beside him a moment later, surveying the scene.

“Not bad, huh?”

“I warmed them up for you,” Raven said matter-of-factly. But Beast Boy couldn’t stop himself from brandishing another self-satisfied smirk.

Raven automatically went over to the first fallen figure, pushing directly past him as she went. Beast Boy took the hint and headed the opposite direction, preparing to inspect the second wreckage site hound dog style.

Bombarded by a multitude of different scents, he realized that he wasn’t exactly sure what he was looking for. He hoped he would know it when he came across it. And he did--when something cold and metallic brushed up against his nose.

With an obnoxious sneeze that sent his floppy ears soaring, Beast Boy took a step back from the dust cloud he had created in front of him. He squinted, coming back up on the area after the dust had settled to find a small coin-like silver disc buried in the ground. But it looked incomplete somehow, like it was only one half of a whole, given several small divots on the surface of the disc. And there was something else mixed in with the scent of the cool metal. Something thick and tangy. He followed the scent further until he found its source.

“Uh...Raven?” He hesitated, instinctively pulling back from the spot it had led him to.

Directly at his feet, the second figure lay face down in the rubble. Their clothing made it difficult to tell what kind of injuries they sustained, but there was blood. Lots of blood.

At the top of the neck, just under their hairline, a perfect silver circle was embedded in the skin--a corresponding piece almost identical to the one on the ground a few yards away. Except this one was covered in miniature circuits and drenched in the dark red liquid oozing from underneath it.

Beast Boy quickly turned back to pick up the first piece and compare the two. He was certain they had once made a single whole. But the half he inspected in his hand seemed to be no more than the covering to the blood caked battery beneath. There was some writing on it though--and maybe that could tell him something .

In a moment, Raven was beside him again, abandoning her less interesting finds at the other end of the courtyard.

“What is it?” She asked, leaning over to try and get a better look at the item in Beast Boy’s hand.

“I don’t know,” he replied, squinting at the object as he tried to make out the markings engraved on its surface. “A...R...S…,” he read slowly. “It looks like there’s more but I can’t make it out.”

Raven extended her hand, and Beast Boy automatically dropped it into her palm for a second opinion.

“Whoever these people are, they must have something to do with that break in,” she said, flipping the silver piece over in her hand. “I guess Robin was right.”

Beast Boy looked down at the body again with a frown.

“Okay, but we still don’t have any more of an idea what they’re after.”

Raven didn’t say anything. She just stood over the body, staring at it intently--in a way that suggested more than just superficial intrigue.

Suddenly, the small metal badge embedded in the figure’s skin was enveloped in a purple haze, and Beast Boy watched in horror as it began to peel away from the flesh underneath like a perfect silver scab. Leaving behind a gruesome red ring of skin, it slowly floated up and over into Raven’s open pocket.

Beast Boy swallowed hard at the sight, a bitter taste in the back of his mouth. For a split second, he was worried he was about to revisit breakfast in the worst way.

“Dude...what the fuck ?” he said, eyes darting between the site of the impromptu surgery and Raven’s slightly blood stained pocket. “That’s nasty.”

Raven didn’t even blink. “Yeah, well so are you and Robin still keeps you around so...”

Beast Boy took a step back from the scene, the scent still of blood still lingering a little too strongly for his liking. And after watching Raven pull off something like that without so much as a moan or a grunt from the disc’s owner, he wasn’t so certain the victims were just napping anymore. He tried not to think too much about the potential fate of the person at his feet. He hated the possibility of pushing that boundary--even if they were ‘the bad guys’.

“You know, that actually wasn’t too bad,” Beast Boy said suddenly. His laugh was stifled and unconvincing, but he knew Raven wouldn’t likely acknowledge his discomfort, which was a bit of a relief in its own right. Regardless, he turned on his heel and made a purposeful decision to start walking away from the scene in hopes that she would naturally follow. Luckily, she did.

“The fight? Or having to be alone with you for more than five minutes?” She said, overtaking him by a step or two. “Because if you’re referring to the latter I’m gonna have to disagree.”

“I mean, but it works. We work. Sometimes,” Beast Boy said, though he was unsure why he was still talking. “It’s like...you know,” he droned on as they walked. “Like oil and vinegar.”

Raven noticeably began to slow her pace. “Like what ?”

“Oil and vinegar. You know. It’s like our flavor ,” Beast Boy said, making some attempt to clarify with a hand gesture.

It was here Raven stopped completely, turning to face him.

“ This ,” she said gesturing between them in return, “is not a flavor .”

Beast Boy shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. “Well I still think it’s a good metaphor.”

“Why? Raven replied, mimicking his pose. “Because we can’t stand being together and naturally repel each other?”

“Buuuuut,” Beast Boy added pointedly, “sometimes when you put us together you get an affordable and delicious salad dressing.”

Raven paused. She closed her eyes, raising her hand to her temple in a deep, meditative stillness before opening her mouth to speak. “You know, sometimes I really wonder how I haven’t killed you by now. Even accidentally.”

Beast Boy frowned. “Just to be clear, you’re the vinegar in this situation.”

The two began to walk again, but Beast Boy only made it a few steps before Raven thrust a hand out in front of him, stopping him mid-stride. And this time it didn’t seem to be because of anything he’d said.

“What?” he blurted out stupidly. At least this time Raven would be able to understand him.

Raven was completely still for a moment longer, her eyes slowly scanning the area around them. “You didn’t hear that?” she said quietly.

“Hear what?” Beast Boy said, again the words feeling stupid and redundant the moment he uttered them.

“Something other than the sound of your own voice,” Raven said under her breath.

Beast Boy looked all around them, just as Raven had. But he didn’t see anything. Let alone hear anything out of the ordinary.

“You’re just being paranoid,” he said, lightly pushing her arm back down to her side. “There were only two of them. You saw on Robin’s map.”

Raven didn’t seem too comforted by the reminder.

Beast Boy moved slightly to meet her gaze, which was focused somewhere far off in the distance. “I’m tellin’ ya. Oil and vinegar.”

Then, with a little more force than he expected, Raven pushed pushed past him and began to walk again.

“Where are you going?” Beast Boy said, somewhat startled.

“Home.”

“Didn’t you wanna sweep the area first?”

“Not if it means twenty more minutes of this,” Raven said, waving her hand dismissively. “Besides, I’m just being ‘paranoid’.”

“Okay, well so much for working together then I guess,” Beast Boy said, rolling his eyes.

Raven shot him a look over her shoulder. Then, in an instant, she froze, eyes growing wide as she opened her mouth to say something.

But Beast Boy beat her to it.

He wasn’t sure the noise he made was completely human, even if the small blade twirling in the dirt just past him hadn’t completely hit its mark. He bit his lip to keep himself from another outburst. It had only grazed the side of his calf, but that was enough to bring him to one knee. He knew that if it had hit him the way it had been intended, he’d be on the ground.

Suddenly, everything around him was engulfed in shadow--and Beast Boy wondered if this was what people meant when they talked about ‘blacking out’. He really hoped that wasn’t what was happening. Not in front of Raven of all people. And not over a glorified paper cut .

A moment later, finding he was still very much conscious, Beast Boy was relieved to find that Raven was the source of the shadowy dome that now surrounded them on all sides. But the relief didn’t last long.

Beyond the opaque screen of darkness, there was a ceaseless blur of motion. Hundreds of tiny silver sparks rebounded off the outer edge, like hail raining down in a terrible storm.

Beast Boy glanced up at Raven from where he knelt on the ground. She was gritting her teeth, brow furrowed and eyes aglow. She didn’t so much as blink when he looked at her, which wasn’t a good sign.

He looked around frantically. Every direction depicted the same terrible scene. Every direction—except for one. It was only now that he noticed how soft the earth was underneath him. How the asphalt of the alleyways seemed to melt away as they worked their way toward the center of the courtyard. And that gave him an idea. An idea Beast Boy didn’t allow himself to think through.

There was something reassuring about being so close to the ground. But the transformation into a badger probably hadn’t been the best for his wound. His leg was starting to ache even more now, and he realized that would probably make digging all the more difficult.

But before he could test his hypothesis, a voice rang out over the crackling of bullets, clear and strong and demanding to be heard.

“Do you have a death wish?,” Raven yelled, her voice cutting above the static.

“What do you think?” Beast Boy said, instantly morphing back. The words came out as sharp as the blades whirling around them.

“Well I guess it’s a good thing gophers are bulletproof ,” Raven said with a laugh dripping with anything but humor.

“ Badgers . It’s a badger .” Beast Boy could feel the adrenaline pulsing in his veins like wildfire--even though he knew the reaction was unwarranted, especially given the more concerning matters at hand.

“Really bad time for an argument, Beast Boy. Really bad time,” Raven bit back.

For a split second, Beast Boy thought of going ahead with his plan anyway. Then it occurred to him that he’d probably already used up what little luck he had for the day.

“Okay, so what’s your bright idea?” he said, struggling to hide the growing annoyance in his voice. But all things considered, he really hoped she had one.

“Not dying. That’s my plan,” she said, shutting her eyes tightly.

Beast Boy looked around nervously--though he wasn’t sure what he was looking for.

“Can’t you just...teleport us out or something?” he said, biting his lip.

“Teleportation or force field. You get one .”

The second Raven spoke though, she was interrupted by a noise that overtook even the hammering of the bullets around them. The short metallic pings were swapped for one firework-like explosion, the ground beneath them trembling just enough to make Beast Boy second guess his balance. From the looks of it, their attackers hadn’t been so lucky.

The bullets raining down on them slowed to a drizzle--then seemed to stop completely after a few stray shots. But not because the remaining gunmen had ceased fire. Rather, the firing now seemed to be directed somewhere else entirely.

Before Beast Boy could figure out where everyone else had turned their attention, his own focus was redirected again as he felt something cold on his wrist. A hand, gripping onto him with what felt like an unnecessary amount of force.

Beast Boy felt the ground sway beneath him again uneasily until it disappeared completely, the hard dirt and asphalt replaced by rough gray concrete. When the scene before him came into a clear focus, his stomach lurched. With a primal desperation, he reached out, searching for the hand that had just let go of him. Now he was the one holding on like his life depended on it.

In front of him now was a perfect aerial snapshot of the pavilion. They had to be at least ten stories up, given the size of the figures below them.

“Um…”

Beast Boy looked up, heart still pounding, though he wasn’t sure the vertigo was responsible for the anxiety he felt now.

Raven was staring at him--or rather their hands intertwined--with a clear level of discomfort. What kind, Beast Boy couldn’t tell.

“You can let go of my hand now,” she said slowly.

Beast Boy flinched, releasing her hand from his own as quickly as he had grabbed it. His knuckles were stiff, flushed by the strain of his grip.

An awkward beat of silence passed between them, broken only when Raven turned to grab something from her pocket.

“What are you doing?” Beast Boy asked, terribly conscious of the slight crack in his voice.

“Calling Robin,” Raven replied, an audible ring echoing from the blood-spotted comms device now resting in her hand.

The two waited for another excruciatingly long moment until the ringing came to an abrupt, unanswered halt.

“I guess he’s busy,” Beast Boy shrugged. But something snagged in his stomach at the thought. Robin probably was very busy. But Beast Boy wasn’t sure he really believed that was why he hadn’t picked up. He took out his own pager anxiously, already flipping through the contacts on the main screen. “Lemme try Cyborg.”

The dial tone cut off after the first ring.

Raven paused for a moment then looked up at him. “I don’t even have a signal.”

Beast Boy looked down at the device in his own hand. Neither did he. “Huh. Well that’s...weird.”

“Yeah,” Raven said, a definitive frown forming on her lips. “And that’s not the only thing that’s a little weird.”

As she spoke, Raven stared down at the pavilion below them, unblinking. She seemed intently focused on...something. But Beast Boy wasn’t entirely sure that it was the fight happening on the ground. A fight that was becoming increasingly hard to follow, even for someone who was trying to keep up with it.

Beast Boy scanned the turf once, then again through the eyes of a hawk, hoping for a better view. Squinting beyond the cloud of dust, he finally was able to hone in on the action--and more importantly, their attackers’ new target.

The man stood out like a current rolling on a still sea. Rather than trying to dodge the attacks of his pursuers, he danced through the waves with an impossible accuracy, almost as if he were intentionally trying to attract their shots. And he did--like hungry flies to a show horse. Only he never seemed to get bitten. The flies bit themselves. They bit each other. Falling one after the other around him as they continued to follow him further and further away from the center of the pavilion.

Just before the man disappeared into the shadows of the opposite alleyway, Beast Boy finally caught a glimpse of his face amongst the swarming insects--his shiny black hair and toothless grin glistening in the artificial night.

#bbrae #bbrae fanfiction #beast boy teen titans #raven teen titans #dc #i still don't know how to properly use tags lol

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fountainpenguin · 3 years

Text

It’s an Update

Hello, Riddle here! I know I’ve been pretty quiet on Tumblr lately. Here’s an update on my situation:

I will definitely post more fanfic updates soon. I’ve picked at drafts, but haven’t posted anything lately. Here are the reasons why:

I got a new IRL job. It’s a good fit for me, but I have less free time than I used to, of course. It’s a job that involves writing lots of articles on a variety of topics, and I enjoy how every day is a little different

Most of my free time for the last year has gone towards my mod work at the Creature-Crossing ARPG, and to my personal CC writing. I’ve been working on new activities over there (my recent favorite being our seasonal familiar shows... I won first place in the summer show!) and I have a lot of plot plans that are coming together now. If you ever want to see my original characters and read my CC writing, you can find my character directory HERE and my Table of Contents HERE.

Once November 1st hits, I won’t be preparing for the release of any more CC activities or events. All future activity or event releases will be overseen by the other mods, and I’ll simply be someone they can ask for extra help if needed. This is a big change for a mod who spent the last 12 months working on new releases, and will give me back some of the free time my IRL job will eat

The Creature-Crossing admin (my boss) greenlit my request to bring an assistant on the mod team who will specifically help me with a lot of my behind-the-scenes work, such as data entry and organization. I’ve never had another mod who specifically helps me with the back end duties before, so that will be awesome. I will need to spend some time training them, but once they are official, that will take some of my workload off and allow me more free time for this blog and personal writing time.

===

Fanfic updates you can expect to see soon:

- Reedfilter Rules

- Frayed Knots

- Origin of the Pixies

- Debut of Factor It In, my Kid Math-centric “WordGirl” fanfic (Subtitled “Tales of a third-grade superhero in training”)... Yes I am still in love with this idiot boy, expect lots of doodle pages soon

- The 130 Prompts project is on a slow-burn writing schedule... I’ll write for it when I want to, but I mostly want to focus on Origin and Knots this year.

Further info below the cut. There is more info about non-Fairly OddParents ‘fics in here too (under “non-FOP fanfics”), so if you’re looking forward to Mario World or “WordGirl” ‘fics from me, give this a click so you know what’s coming!

So, what does this update mean for your fanfics?

They’ll be active again soon! I’ve been picking at them behind the scenes, trying to build up a buffer. In an ideal world, I would love to release a new chapter for SOMETHING every Friday. I doubt this will be possible, but it’s something I would love to work towards in the future. Realistically, you can probably expect some kind of fanfic update once every two Fridays (two updates per month).

There might be some Fridays where posting an update is not possible. Instead, I’ll make a post about what progress I made instead. In the past, I often overworked myself to get a chapter out in time for my old deadline. I will not be doing that anymore, but will instead hold myself to a goal of “Make progress on something every week.”

In the best ideal world, I would love to post one FOP fanfic update per week and one non-FOP fanfic update per week. This is not likely to happen for a long, long time, but that would be the dream.

Here are the things I most likely worked on if there is no fanfic update:

- A fanfic chapter draft that needs more time

- A sideblog profile

- A Toyhouse profile for personal characters

- IRL work or mod work may have kept me busy this week

- Creature-Crossing writing... I will try to prioritize my fanfics more, but my CC writing is still important to me and I will be working on it in a lot of my free time too. At the moment, I have a hard deadline of December 14th that I need to meet if I want to release huge plot drama on the day that it happens in canon. I’ve been building up to this for a long time, so I’m really excited about that.

I currently have summer or autumn 2022 planned as the “finale” for the majority of my plot to explode. I will be hosting a member-run event in Creature-Crossing that will last for two months, so a lot of my time from January until the event’s release will be spent doing event prep. Once the event ends, my story content will mostly be a “return to slice of life.” Stories will be more casual one-offs as characters grow, live their lives, and start their own families. Hitting seasonal deadlines for plot will no longer be so important. I’ll be giving Creature-Crossing work less attention after that, and much more attention to my fanfics.

- I may not have a fanfic chapter out each week, but I WILL post a note every Friday to let you know what I have been doing with my time. You’ll see me around. Feel free to send Asks and talk!

===

What non-FOP fanfics would you like to work on?

For literal years, I’ve been claiming I want to post Mario World fanfics. This is still something I want to do. I tag Mario World posts as “mushrooms and more.” I’ve already done a lot of worldbuilding, I have thousands of words of content written for this fandom... I just haven’t posted any of it. I hope to do this soon.

- “WordGirl” fanfics are prioritized over Mario World fanfics. After I finish my first “WordGirl” multi-chapter, I will probably be ready to post my Mario World ‘fics. I may possibly post some Mario World one-shots in between other fanfic updates. Might take another year or more before I touch Mario stuff unless there’s high interest in seeing it sooner?

I also really want to write some WordGirl ‘fics and get more involved with the fandom community. I’ve been building headcanons and lore for this show ever since I was a kid, and I have multiple ‘fics for this fandom that I want to write.

- “AlgoRhythm” is a ‘fic I have already posted on FFN and AO3, about WordGirl introducing Kid Math to the villains in town

- 28 Cities is a ‘fic I started about Rhyme and Reason before they arrived in Fair City. I put it on hiatus since it didn’t seem like anyone was interested, but I’m willing to post more for it if there is interest in it now that years have passed and I’ve gotten more followers who like WordGirl. I have a lot of worldbuilding and plot I never shared for it

- Factor It In is a ‘fic I’ve been working for a while that parallels the official show from the moment Kid Math arrives in town. It focuses on Rex’s struggle to adjust to this world as a child coming into his superpowers for the first time (Y’know, the whole “superheroes don’t have powers when they’re on their home planets” thing), his struggle to adapt to the social world of a non-logical planet, and Becky’s struggle to help him become accustomed to Earth and learn to share it with her as well. If the episode “Kid Math” was a full-length novel about Rex’s arrival and character development, that’s what this story is. This is the highest priority of all my non-FOP ‘fics... I’ve had a cover image made for 6 months and even though I tried setting it aside, I’ve always been super inspired to write for it. If I felt like it would be a good idea to commit to weekly updates alongside my FOP updates, I would, haha.

- I have two one-shot WIPs called “Squishy Feelings” and “A Little Ambiguity”, one of them focusing on Becky and Rex talking about the events of “Rhyme and Reason” and what it means for Rex’s secret identity, and the latter being a future ‘fic showing WordGirl and Kid Math dealing with life 10 to 15 years down the road. I’ll probably post the latter, not sure yet on the former.

- If desired, I may make a WordGirl specific sideblog where I post lore, answer Asks, post character profiles [smaller than my FOP sideblog ones], and mention fanfic updates. If you would be interested in this, feel free to send me an Ask requesting I do this. If there’s not interest, I’ll just keep my WordGirl stuff on the main blog.

- I’d like to get more involved in the WordGirl community, so I’ll probably post more content and reblog more art and headcanons

I also have a handful of miscellaneous ideas I might follow through with. I’d like to write at least one “TUFF Puppy” fanfic so I can say I did. In a perfect world I would like to finish the two “Danny Phantom” and “Bunsen Is a Beast” fanfics I started because... I just kind of want to dip my toe in each of the Hartman shows once since I already went through all the effort of worldbuilding for them to make them canon in a single Hartman show universe. “ChalkZone” is another show I adore and might touch someday (You may recall I have a full outline planned for an FOP/ChalkZone crossover ‘fic called “Dust to Dust”).

Will I write all of these things? Maybe not. I have no idea if I want to spend the next 10+ years writing fanfics, or if I’ll simply be done with all misc. fanfics immediately once I decide to be done with my main ‘fics. I definitely intend to write for a few more years and finish my main ‘fics, but I might not go through with some less popular side ‘fics if life is getting busy for me.

===

What is the posting schedule for FOP ‘fics?

Reedfilter Rules, Frayed Knots, Origin of the Pixies, the 130 Prompts project, and “Come What May” are all high priority FOP writings. I will swap between them depending on my mood that week.

Here are some other ‘fics I want to work on.

- If you like, you can send me Asks requesting I work on a specific story above the rest. I will try to prioritize whichever stories interest you guys most.

Snips and Snails is a ‘fic I started and posted the first chapter for years ago. I’m not sure when I will get back to it, as I ran into some writer’s block. It’s still on tentative hiatus for now..... Possibly forever, though I hope it isn’t forever since it’s only supposed to be, like, five more chapters.

Pink and Gray is on official hiatus. I actually have a lot written for it, but I know it’s a little weird to put so much time and energy into Gary and Betty content when... well, let’s be honest: they’re my niche favorites and most of you probably don’t care. So, I am lifting my usual “no spoilers” policy from my Ask Box. If you would like to ask about my Gary and Betty backstory headcanons, feel free. I will tag my replies as “ridwriting spoilers” for anyone who wants to blacklist the tag, and spoilers will be hidden under a Read More line.

I’d like to return to this story someday because there are tons of things I like about it (ranging from Betty’s secret tattoos to Gary’s plot drama with his mom to the background drama between Talon and Anti-Cosmo, but I always feel immense pressure to make it extra cool to make up for the fact these are weird side characters, so... it’s officially at the bottom of the priority pile. Once Talon shows up in Frayed Knots and readers understand who he is and why he exists, I’ll consider coming back to it.

Identity Theft is a story about Foop and his time in the alternate dimension he was flung into following the episode “Playdate of Doom.” To put it short, Foop was abused by alternate versions of his parents in this dimension and he witnessed some pretty intense stuff, including the death of the alt version of himself who existed in that reality. The trauma he experienced resulted in his alternate personality, Hiccup. Foop himself has very few memories of what happened, as Hiccup has all of those memories. This story is canon in my works, and it is regularly referred to during the 130 Prompts as part of Foop’s backstory. It’s my highest priority side story to work on.

Along the Cherry Lane is a 20-chapter work focusing on the lives of the main human cast from age 11 to age 30, with one chapter showing a snippet of their lives each year. You see Timmy raising Tommy and Tammy in this ‘fic, and it ends with them receiving godparents. Since the 130 Prompts don’t give humans much attention, this ‘fic does. You’ll probably see it debut two years from now, closer to when the 130 Prompts is ready to talk more about humans.

If this becomes a popular ‘fic of mine, I’ll probably write a sequel or continue it past Chapter 30 and write about Tammy and Tommy living with fairies, but I won’t if there’s no interest in that.

Little Imperfections is a Pixie AU ‘fic of mine about what life would be like in a universe where the Fairies are even more like insects than I play them as during my main works (where I already play them as semi-similar to insects). In this world, the Head Pixie is a figurehead whose duty is to reproduce for the sake of the colony and do nothing else, and he’s bored out of his mind until he befriends Sanderson, who introduces him to music. It’s extremely self-indulgent and silly because I like Pixies.

Francis is a multi-chapter ‘fic about bully Francis’s life getting yet another fairy godparent in a long string of memory wipes and godparents. It takes place during the canon series, and when you see an “orange fairy” mentioned in some of my writings, it’s usually referring to this fairy. His name is Rover and I occasionally post art of him. I feel like I can’t truly call myself an FOP fanfic writer until I actually write about a godkid and their godparents, haha...

Hawthorn Haven is a side ‘fic that will be posted towards the end of the 130 Prompts, as it veers off from the prompts in its own self-contained multi-chapter story. It will be approximately the length of “Baby, You’re a Rich Man.”

Acacia Arcadia is a far-past ‘fic detailing the fall of the ancient fae, the imprisonment of the nature spirits, the rise and fall of the chimera nation, the fall of the Martian genies, and the early days of the cloudlands. This is close to the bottom of the priority pile... It’s something I spend time on for personal reference to ensure accuracy in my other ‘fics, but it’s probably not what you guys came here to read.

AA has a bunch of characters in it that you might vaguely recognize, such as Ezekiel Whimsifinado, Evadne, Ione, Two Feathers, Rho, and Sablewood (If you’re astute, you might recall cloudland legends and landmarks in modern day that refer back to these characters). There are also a lot of characters who were reincarnated as Anti-Fairies, in accordance to traditional Anti-Fairy beliefs; Foop for example exists as a main character in one of his past lives, and you’ll see a hint dropped about each of his lives in the first chapter of Identity Theft. My tentative plan is to use Foop’s past lives as my central characters, following the events of each part of the timeline until he gets killed and reincarnates at a later point of the timeline.

I also keep some one-shots in a file I call Mixed Nuts and I may possibly post them someday (they’re mostly just one-shots of main cast characters I do to get a feel for their personalities, I have some Wanda and Cupid in here). @zachbrightside and I are also working on a collab ‘fic called Like a House On Fire that shows more of Timmy and Chloe’s lives during Season 10 (especially around the time of “Which Is Wish?”) No news on a release date for that yet.

As I’ve said before, once all my other FOP works are complete, I will write Devil’s Backbone, which is my far-future ‘fic and the finale of my FOP writing. I do not plan to write any more FOP content after that story is finished, as I expect to have all other FOP projects done by then.

- Devil’s Backbone is a finale 'fic, so all worldbuilding from all stories is fair game to blend together, and it’s highly recommended you read everything else first. This story has been outlined since 2016, and it might not be published for another 10 years... Who knows! But it’s something I always work towards as a concrete endgame goal.

- If something serious comes up in my life and I officially decide I don’t want to write this story, I will post the outline for it. The link to this draft is included with all the other Google Docs links I have in a far-future queued post unveiling my WIPs in case I unexpectedly die and you still want to know how my stories would have gone, so you’ll get access to this story eventually even if I die young. Yes, share access is turned on for them all and I do take extra careful measures to be sure that post doesn’t get posted early skldfj

===

What is the plan for the main blog?

Every Friday, I will post either a fanfic chapter or a progress update. You can blacklist the tag “ridlife” if you do not want to see the progress updates on your dashboard. Fanfic updates will not have the “ridlife” tag, so you will not be blocking them.

During the rest of the week, I might post doodles, reblogs, or general comments. Basically... you’ll see the blog become active again. Feel free to send in Asks about my worldbuilding and thoughts on fanfic characters.

@fountainpenguin is my personal blog, so you will see non-fandom things on here sometimes

@riddledeep is my FOP-exclusive sideblog. It contains all my lore notes and goes into a ton of depth, more than my fanfics give in one breath

===

What does this mean for the Riddledeep sideblog?

I really want to go back and edit those character profiles that were posted early by mistake. The reason they were queued is because if I turned them into drafts, they would have been buried all the way at the beginning of my draft collection, and I have many, many drafts saved. There are no page numbers to navigate quickly through the draft collection, so I would have to click through each page one by one if I ever wanted to look at them. I hated doing this, which is why I kept my posts queued.

I was regularly updating the queue deadlines, trying to keep things in the order I wanted to post them in, but Tumblr made a change to the way drafts are dated and it kept throwing off my system. My inability to remember when my queued things would post combined with my busy schedule led to some profiles being posted early and incomplete. I want to fix these.

Over a year ago, my good friend Vulpix150 helped me finalize my designs for the Aos Sí and Daoine Sith. I’ve been sitting on that art in secret for a while, and at some point I plan to post it on the sideblog and talk more about that lore.

Updating fanfics is my higher priority (and it was the priority my followers voted for when I asked you to send votes to my Ask Box a while back). So, I will usually spend my free time working on fanfics unless I need a break from them and want to work on sideblog profiles instead. Thank you for your patience!

===

TL;DR

I’m posting fanfics again soon. I’m going to take a more relaxed approach to posting them. I’m going to post more of what I want to post and what I feel motivated to post, not always a main ‘fic update. If I’m not “feeling it” when working on a draft, then I’ll set it aside for a while unless I know my followers and readers have high interest in the next chapter of that story. I always write for me first, but if I know there are other people who care a lot about a story, then of course I want to write it for you too!

I’m going to embrace my decade-long love for WordGirl and post more ‘fics and art or this fandom. I’ve always been a little shy about doing this, but I’m ready to make it an official fandom on my main blog (unless there are lots of requests for WordGirl things to be contained in their own sideblog). I will be posting the first chapter for a ‘fic called Factor It In very soon. Love my easily frustrated alien kiddos having a long day.

I am working on Creature-Crossing stuff too, and will be especially busy in November and December. Updates will be slow for a few months, but I hope to find my groove and a good pace soon.

Each Friday, I will post either a fanfic update or a mention of what I am working on. I will be checking in on Tumblr regularly. Feel free to talk! I much prefer you send messages to my Ask Box, not my private messenger, please <3

===

Is there a specific story of mine you like and want more updates for?

Asks and reviews help me know which ‘fics people are enjoying. I plan to keep writing ‘fics no matter what, but I definitely give more time to the ‘fics that get more attention (and I have been spending so much time writing for Creature-Crossing because that’s where the attention was coming from)

It’s easy to stay motivated and get the next part of a story out soon if I know that people like it. It’s always harder if you feel like people are silently judging you and ignoring your posts. So, let me know what you’re interested in. And if you only leave Likes or Favorites instead of asks and reviews, that’s okay too! Thank you for interacting anyway and enjoying my work.

Thanks for reading!

#WordGirl #Factor It In #Kid Math #FAIRIES!#ridlife #riddleverse mention #ridwriting #Mushrooms and more #Satirical vocab alien child show #Frayed Knots #130 Prompts #Origin of the Pixies #Pink and Gray #Acacia Arcadia #Devil's Backbone #Hawthorn Haven #Along the Cherry Lane

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burninghoneyatdusk · 4 years

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For me, Bob’s post was the confirmation I needed. I don’t think he would ever bait us, and I no longer have any reason to believe the death was not legitimate. Now it feels even more shitty that basically none of the rest of the cast posted a fairwell, but okay.

I’m going to log off of stan twitter for a while and take a day or two break from here as well. The level of upset I am makes me realize that my hyperfixation on this show this season has been more intense than it usually was in past seasons. Having depression and being isolated during the pandemic, it’s been something to latch onto. Escapism can be great, but not in the sense of ignoring real life and just other interests in general, and not if it has the power to plumet your mental health.

I won’t be watching the rest of the season, given both his death and what feels like a character assassination for Clarke. I could write an essay about how confusing this is as a narrative. In the future when I’m in a better headspace and have time to process, I just might.

I have always given JR the benefit of the doubt, even when others dragged him. I figured that even if for selfish reasons, he wouldn’t do something like this to his show. His legacy will be worse than GoT and good luck with the prequel now. But now, I can really see no other reason aside from spite for the choices he made. We’ll never know what happened behind the scenes but it seems clear now that the abhorrent death was influenced by that. I quite literally cannot see another reason for these choices, no matter how long I search my brain. I know the story is not over until it’s over, but if Bellamy is not coming back, then there is nothing that can change the fact he died alone, hated or misunderstood by his friends, brainwashed and not him true self, and at the hands of his best friend. Therefore, I don’t see a reason to stick around.

So I’m going to detach myself from t100 and find joy in other interests - getting back into cooking, attempting to do yoga at home bc I still feel too anxious to go to my studio but I miss it immensely, and reading other books like PJO and novels that have been sitting on my to-read list for far too long. It’s hard to want anything to do with the canon version of this show right now, even in fic.

That being said, we are absolutely continuing to accept prompts and write for @t100fic-for-blm. Thankfully, all my own prompts for the foreseeable future are AUs, so I’ll still continue to write and post them bc I can separate that from canon enough. Please, please continue to support this initiative, even as you stop watching, either now or after the series finale. It is a great way to work through emotions about this show and our characters, but most importantly this cause will continue to need support moving forward. Unlike the t100, this has real life implications and it’s important we continue to stand by the BLM movement and not let support slip away, even as media coverage inevitably does.

Lastly, a big thanks to everyone who nominated me for @bellarkeficawards! I’m absolutely blown away by the nominations and support and it has made the last few days that much better. A year ago I was new to fandom and almost quit before I really started, and I’m so glad that thanks to some kind people who reached out, I didn’t. Since then I’ve loved sharing all my work with you guys and have met incredible people, both within the @t100fic-for-blm group and otherwise.

Hang in there everyone. This will be hard for so many of us, but one thing I do know for certain, that I remind myself during my own lows, is that no feeling lasts forever. Time will make this easier and I think most of us will eventually be able to look back on our crazy fandom experience fondly. I myself don’t intend to *leave* fandom, but I know many will inevitably drift from it post-series, even more so now that the show has been irreparably damaged in the eyes of some. So a big thanks to all writers, creators, and awesome people who have been here to share the enthusiasm over the years. Our showrunner might be awful, but overall, this fandom is one to he treasured

Sam 💙💙

#I meant to write like a paragraph and this came out whoops #bellarke #bellamy blake #the 100 #the 100 s7 #the 100 spoilers #burninghoneyatdusk

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tepkunset · 4 years

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@avatarfandompolice is a blog that likes to misuse progressive language in attempt to make ignorant, racist posts sound more intelligent than they are. While most of their blog consists of arguing about ‘zutara,’ (which I recently learned is a ship name for Zuko and Katara from an anon), there is also a large number of posts and reblogs under the premise of being “hot takes” on how unfair it is to address racism in fandom and in media.

Avatarfandompolice is very sensitive about people pointing out that Avatar: The Last Airbender is not, in fact, flawless. That a show made by two white men featuring Asian and Indigenous characters and influences is fully capable of getting things wrong. That their western colonial views are influences all on their own, and it shows. Rather than listen to fans of colour point out things like these posts for example: [Link] [Link] [Link], avatarfandompolice has decided that such things must simply be fake, and has made multiple posts complaining it. This is not just regular ignorance, this is wilful ignorance. The dismissal of critique simply because they cannot fathom not everyone being able to handle the amount of issues they are freely educating others on, or people holding the ability to like something overall while also pointing out where it could be better.

It is my firm belief that you should never absorb media with an uncritical eye. If this was the case, if people just accepted everything given to them, then we would never see any progress. We need to be able to look back at something and say here’s what we did right, and here’s what we need to do better with.

The argument that A:TLA was made in 2012 and therefore should not be analyzed with a modern understanding of the world is downright hilarious, too. As if we aren’t taught to write literature analysis on books and plays that are centuries old in school. In particular regards to the whole cop thing... if anyone reading this seriously thinks that hate and fear of the police is just a 2020 trend, you can meet me in the pit. I was four years old when I learned how terrifying cops are. If your experiences differ, let me tell you that does not make them universal. And as for all the 20-somethings talking about it today, well, gentle reminder that as said by avatarfandompolice right here, the show aired in 2012. Little 10-year-old kids don’t have social media, (at least I hope they don’t,) and unless they grew up experiencing first-hand police terror, probably were not aware of it at that age. I do not know why avatarfandompolice insults people's ability to grow and learn. I can only guess it’s jealously from their lack of ability to do so.

Now let’s address their defences of whitewashing, which is easily the most backwards reaching I’ve seen on this issue in a while. Primarily their defence relies on four repetitive “points” —

Fake minuscule percentages to downplay the high prevalence and extremity of whitewashing in the fandom

Deflecting the addressing of whitewashing with rapid-fire fake scenarios and claims of “reverse racism” / “blackwashing”

Claiming whitewashing isn’t real because people only care about it with Katara

Claiming that calling out whitewashing in fandom is wrong because it hurts artists

I have only so much as dipped my toes into the A:TLA fandom, and even I have seen a lot of whitewashed fan art. If you do an image search for fan art, I guarantee within the first couple rows of results, there will be in the absolute least, a few examples. The idea of these artworks not substantially lightening skin is also just plain inaccurate. Just from a quick Google search, this is literally the first result for ‘Avatar The Last Airbender Katara fan art’:

Avatarfandompolice is also hyper-focused on the lightening of skin, and seems to be under the impression that this is the only component of whitewashing. I come to this conclusion because when someone pointed out the equal prevalence of depicting these characters of colour with Western European features instead of their actual eyes, noses, etc., they rip a giant turd out of their ass and scrawl the words “but stereotyping” over it. No, not all Asian peoples and Indigenous peoples look the same. The original poster made no such claim of this at all. Avatarfandompolice jumped to this conclusion all on their own... (which really says a lot in itself). It is entirely unrelated to the point. The point being the erasure of how these characters look, in favour of giving them whiter features. And guess what? This does hurt. But I’ll get to that below.

The lack of understanding of whitewashing is on full display when avatarfandompolice talks about “blackwashing”; the idea that colouring characters with darker skin is just like whitewashing. Firstly, there is no such thing as “blackwashing.” “Blackwashing,” “brownwashing,” etc. does not exist because it is a false equivalency to whitewashing. It is a false equivalency to whitewashing because white people are not even in the slightest loosing representation when a white character is re-imagined as a racial minority, whereas when racial minorities are re-imagined as white people, they are taking away from what is already very little representation for us. If we lived in a world where the statistics of representation were not so drastically disproportionate, then there would be something to talk about. But if you are really wanting to support equality, you should focus on equitably supporting those who actually need it, not white people. As for specifically depicting characters like Sokka and Katara with darker skin than what they have in the show, the same applies, (so long as it’s not racebending them as we really shouldn’t be taking representation away from each other, and the artist avatarfandompolice ridicules above has done no such thing,) because colourism also exists within nonwhite communities as well.

As for the fake questions about cosplaying, the answer is really simple: Cosplay however you want, but don’t make pretending to be a different race part of your cosplay. If you want to cosplay Katara, you can do it without painting your skin darker, aka brownface. If you want to cosplay Zuko, you can do it without editing yourself to look East Asian, aka digital yellowface. The racist history behind this is an internet search away, but I suppose that is too difficult for avatarfandompolice to do.

Avatarfandompolice has made multiple claims that people must not really care about whitewashing if they only call it out for Katara. It is laughable at best, and sad at worst, that this is the conclusion they come to, and not the fact that unfortunately Katara just happens to be subjected to more whitewashing than other characters. I assume this is from a mix of her popularity as well as being a WOC and not MOC. This is not to say that whitewashing does not exist with male characters—not in the slightest. Half the images on this “10 fan art pictures of Sokka that are just the best” list from CBR are whitewashed. Only that across fandoms, whitewashing is more prevalent in female characters, by my observations at least.

Finally—and this one pisses me off the most—avatarfandompolice claims that whitewashing is no big deal, but calling out whitewashing is too harmful to justify. How fucking dare you put the feelings of artists who can’t handle critique of their work (that they publicly share) over fans of colour, who are constantly subjected to seeing our identities and looks not being worth respecting. As if it doesn’t imprint on your mind from a very young age how only villains ever have your facial features, because they’re ugly and I guess that means you’re ugly. As if there is something wrong with you. As if respecting you is regarded as extra effort, and not just common courtesy.

Whitewashing is a form of colourism, which is a form of racism. It is the favouritism, unconscious or not, of white features and the erasure of visible characters of colour. It is not fandom drama. It is not being too lazy to focus on “real issues” because it is part of a real issue. It is yet another part of why fandom spaces are so uninviting to POC. We live in a society that favours lighter skin. Corporations make fortunes from selling products to bleach your skin, products to contour your features away or go as far as surgery, all to meet beauty standards set by and influenced by white colonizers. That does not exist in A:TLA, and that’s called refreshing escapism. But it’s hard to escape that when the fandom constantly reminds you otherwise. It is a perfect example of how the classic “just let people enjoy things” complaint is nothing but disguised racism, because it’s only ever said regarding white fans’ enjoyment, at the expense of fans of colour.

None of the characters in A:TLA are white. Redesigning them and recolouring them as if they are, be it out of accident or intent is wrong. If you get called out for it, apologize, learn from the experience and do better going forward. You’ll also improve your art this way.

Beyond excusing whitewashing, avatarfandompolice has overt racist posts as well. A Black fan said they like to headcanon Katara as being partially Black; “I swear Katara was a sister. Im convinced there ain't no way she didn't have some black in her.” Avatarfandompolice jumps in saying “She's literally an Inuit but ok” as if being an Inuk person means Katara can’t possibly also be Black. The OP never claimed Katara was not Indigenous, simply that they also saw her as Black. Black Indigenous peoples exist. Black Inuk peoples exist. It is overtly anti-Black to say otherwise. But what even is the point of talking to avatarfandompolice about that? You know, you would think in trying to put such a front up of caring about the Inuit, they would do the most basic learning of the proper grammatical use of Inuit and Inuk. (As is the case with a great many Indigenous Nations, Inuit is both the Nation and plural. Inuk is singular. “An Inuit” / “Inuits” as avatarfandompolice has used just makes their dressed-up racism all the more pathetic. It’s similar to as if you said “Chinas” instead of “Chinese”.)

But all this is nothing, nothing compared to the worst post I had the displeasure of seeing. In a single post, avatarfandompolice manages to squeeze in insult against low income people, Mexican people, Jewish people, and Black people in a mockery of financial help posts. Absolutely disgusting, childish behaviour from a place of privilege. As someone who has had no option but to make such a post before, more than once, let me fucking tell you that the embarrassment and desperation when in that situation is unparalleled. It is not done lightly. It is done when you are at the last resort of having nothing but hope that the combined generosity of others will be enough to save you and your family. And what adds a whole other level to the odiousness of avatarfandompolice’s post is that they specifically targeting low income minorities to boot. Because we’re all poor beggars, right?

All in all, for someone who prides themselves in calling others ignorant, avatarfandompolice has to be one of the most obtuse fandom blogs I have ever scrolled through. They are as vile as they are pathetic, and my sincere sympathy for anyone who has been unfortunate enough to interact with them. It has been a while since I so strongly recommend blocking someone.

#avatarfandompolice #atla #atla fandom #racism #whitewashing #long post #fit for a queue

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that-sarcastic-writer · 4 years

Text

Once upon a time in NYU- MGG AU

Fandom: MGG, Criminal Minds

Pairing: College!Matthew X College!Reader

Summary: you couldn't stand Matthew, and he couldn't stand you. But you couldn't say the same when you were in his bed

Warnings: alternative universe, enemies to lovers relationship, cursing duh, hair pulling, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, bad writing basically

WC: 6.1k

A/N: so I saw I think it was @eideticmemory write an enemies to lovers college fic and like a light just went on in my head, and I really wanted to that because I've always wanted to, but also give it my own twist and touch of course, so I guess this my attempt at writing a multi-chapter Matthew fic. Will I succeed? Probably not. But it's a good excuse to write smut after a year so we'll see. ALSO HUGE TW I understand posting this now might be a bit of a bad timing. So if you think that reading this will trigger you in any way, just go ahead and skip this one. I dont want to trigger anyone in any way, I just want to entertain you guys and myself in the process so yeah, read at your own risk and please please stay safe. And this is going to be a bit long so strap in yall and enjoy the poorly written sin.

Andddd huge huge thanks to my friend Kara (idk if shes reading this but yeah) for helping me edit this, she helped me make this so much better for you guys and she literally so amazing for actually spending the time to help me. So yeah,

You know when something bad happens, you’re always told to see the bright side of things? That maybe that unfortunate event isn’t as bad as you feel it is? Yeah, well, that doesn’t always apply, and it certainly didn’t when I found out I was partnered with the one person I was hoping I wouldn’t get paired with for my end of the semester film project.

Seriously, out of the nearly hundred students that were enrolled in my film class, I had to get paired up with him, him out of all people, literally the one person I was praying wouldn't get paired up with. Not only because I was forced to work with someone, because honestly all I wanted was to work alone, I had to get paired with Matthew fucking Gubler.

You know when people say God has his favourites? Yeah, well I certainly wasn't one of them.

Now, I didn’t necessarily hate Matthew Gubler. I didn't hate him for no reason, I didn't just wake up one day and decided I was just going to hate Matthew. There was a time where I actually liked him, I liked him more than I'd like to admit, deep down I still did. And I knew he liked me too, he did then at least. And we were good together, it was fun, we had a fun first couple of dates. To this day, they were the nicest dates I ever had, because he knew just how to make them special. I mean, when a guy takes you to the Neue Galerie here in New York and have nice long walk through Central Park, a walk filled with laughter and bliss, it has to be special, and in a weird way, he was special too.

And as much as I wanted more than just two or three dates, I would've been perfectly fine if he had told me what he wanted from the start. If he had suddenly changed his mind about me, I would've accepted it, and I would've been able to live a happy life as his friend if that's what he wanted.

But he didn't, and instead I found out he had other interests. And I didn't hear it from him, I heard it from my friend. She didn't even need to tell me who it was, because the minute she told me where he took her, I knew. He took her to the same place he took me not even two weeks later and then acted like I was nothing the next time he saw me. And my god did that fucking hurt. It hurt me in a way I had never been hurt before, because I thought he was different, I was hoping he was. And convincing myself that I hated him was much easier than facing the fact that it hurt. And I never addressed it ever again, not that Matthew cared enough to actually talk about us, or, whatever we were. So instead we just made each other's existence miserable.

No, what I felt for Matthew wasn't hate, it was just the strong need to stay ten feet away from him so I wouldn't shove a five foot pole up his ass. That's how I felt about Matthew Gubler.

And now, here I was, aggressively shoving my laptop and notebook into my bag so I could leave the auditorium as quickly as possible, or at least quick enough to avoid Matthew, because knowing how he was, he would come straight to me to rub our partnership in my face. And I was right, because the minute we were dismissed, I spotted his lanky frame starting to come down from the top rows where he usually sat, and he was headed my way.

Screaming a big nope in my head, I strapped my bag over my shoulder and headed straight for the exit. I knew I couldn't avoid him forever, especially now but, I just needed a minute to mentally prepare myself to deal with him, a minute and probably a bottle of booze. But I didn't get either because the minute I was out those doors, I heard the unmistakable sound of his voice calling my name.

Great.

"Y/N! Y/N wait!" I heard Matthew call out, followed my rushed footsteps coming from behind me.

"Hey, partner, I'm glad I caught you before you left. You weren't trying to run away from me were you?" He teased, throwing one of his particularly long arms over my shoulder.

If I had rolled my eyes any harder they probably would've gotten stuck there. I groaned, grabbing a hold of his arm and unwrapping it not so subtly before dropping it beside him, "first of all, I'd really appreciate it if you didn't touch me, and second of all, just please go away, Matthew. I have a class I have to get to." I muttered, walking slightly faster and keeping my gaze forward, refusing to even look at him.

If there was something I've learned about Matthew in the two long years I've known him is that he usually goes away on his own if I don't give him the attention he wanted. I was hoping this was one of those times, because I was not in the mood to deal with him right now.

But alas, he didn't, he walked faster, staying beside me the whole time. "But I wasn't even doing anything. I was just saying hi." He defended, and I could just hear the smile on his face even when I wasn't even looking at him.

I rolled my eyes harder, letting out a small breath through my lips, "what do you want Matthew?"

"When can we meet up? I already have an idea for our project and I think you're going to love it."

I chuckled sarcastically, finding his words actually hilarious, "If you came up with it I seriously doubt it." I sighed heavily, digging my teeth into my bottom lip before speaking, "tonight after I finish my shift, I guess. The quicker we can start, the quicker we can get it over with, soo..."

"Great. It's a date then, see you tonight, sweetheart." He hummed, ghosting his lips over my ear, his lips smacking loudly as he pretended to kiss it before he quickly took off in the other direction before I could even say anything.

This fucking guy.

~~~~~~~~~~

"I seriously do not understand how you fucking dated this guy, he's so obnoxious and annoying, how could anyone want to date someone like that." I complained to my friend and roommate Liz. I met her for a quick lunch break before my afternoon class and I just had to let her know how unhappy I was about my partnership with Matthew. She was amused to say the least.

"You make it sound like we dated for years, we dated for a few months, but he's not even that bad." she argued.

I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest and leaned back into my seat with an unamused expression, just waiting for Liz to bury herself further up Matthew's ass. I always had the feeling she still had feelings for him, as much as she insisted it was just a meaningless relationship. And as much as they were just friends now, I just knew she wanted more with him. But it wasn't really my place to question that, not that it mattered to me anyway.

"He's a pretty cool and fun guy to be around, you just never gave him a chance. You've hated him ever since you met him for absolutely no reason, you never gave yourself the chance to get to know him better." Liz insisted, she always did. She always insisted Matthew was such a great guy I never gave the change to get to know.

I had let out a heavy sigh in annoyance of her defense of Matthew before responding, "yeah well, it doesn't really matter since I'm being forced to anyway. And he's coming over tonight to start our project. Can't fucking wait."

I could've sworn I saw Liz's expression change into a mixture of surprise and something I could've easily confused with jealousy. She pursed her lips together and her eyes darted everywhere, like she was avoiding making any kind of eye contact with me.

But, it couldn't be jealousy? What even is there to be jealous of? Her and the whole world knew how I felt about Matthew, her out of all people knew it better than anyone.

"Oh, he is? Well, I'm not really going to be home tonight, I would've given you company so it wouldn't be so awkward with him." She frowned, she sounded disappointed, angry even. She looked uncomfortable, like she was deeply bothered by something, by something I said.

It was weird, I wasn't exactly sure what to say, I wasn't really sure why my news seemed to bother her as much as it did. It's not like I was going to sleep with Matthew while she was away or something. It didn't really matter though, I didn't have time to answer. Thank God.

"I'm sorry Liz but I have to go, I have class in like ten minutes." I excused myself, eating whatever was left on my plate in a matter of seconds before I stood up from my seat and gathered my belongings, "I'll see you later and wish me luck." I said quickly before taking off, not giving her the chance to respond.

~~~~~~~~~~

Usually, I pray for shifts to be over as soon as possible, for it to be slow so I can go home early. Today though, today I prayed for just the opposite. I was hoping the end of my shift wouldn't come, and when it did, that it would be too late and I would be able to cancel my meet up with Matthew.

But like I said, I wasn't one of God's favourites. And today out of all days, it was the slowest it has ever been and my shift ended rather quickly, quicker than I had hoped.

Groaning loudly at the evening that awaited me, I walked down the long halls of my floor, standing outside of my dorm room, dreading my evening already.

Figuring I should just get it over with, I went to get the key on the lock of my door, but noticed it was already unlocked. Liz probably forgot to lock the door, again. I rolled my eyes, shaking my head at my stupid roommate before turning the knob, opening the door. And my jaw dropped the minute I stepped into the room, not believing what my eyes saw.

You've got to be fucking kidding me.

"Matthew, what the fuck are you doing in my dorm and in my bed!? How did you even get in here?" I nearly screamed at the tall brunette that was carelessly laying on my bed with what I figured was one of my books in his hand.

Matthew turned his head towards me, a carefree and calm look plastered all over his face before his eyes went back to the pages in front of him., "oh, well, Liz let me in before she went to work. I hope you don't mind." He responded nonchalantly, continuing to flick through the pages of the book he had in his hand.

I stared at him with absolute disbelief and a loud scoff left my lips as I slightly pitched the bridge of my nose, trying not to throw the nearest object at his face, "yes, I do mind, in fact. You can't just come into somebody's dorm, lie on their bed and go through their stuff. Seriously dude, what is wrong with you?"

I just couldn't believe this guy. He just knew how to get on my nerves without even doing anything.

Matthew, of course, couldn't have cared any less about whatever I was saying. And it wasn't that he wasn't listening, because he was, he had that stupid smile on his face that proved he was in fact listening to every word I was saying. He just didn't care, or he did, but he just liked getting on my nerves. He loved pushing every single one of my buttons until I snapped. And I had no idea why. I had no idea why he liked annoying me so much.

I exhaled heavily through my nose, closing my eyes slightly as I ran a hand through my hair exasperatedly, "I just can't fucking deal with you. I can't." I huffed, dropping my bag from my shoulder and walked to the opposite side of my room, facing away from him, not even wanting to look at his face.

"Tell me something, sweetheart," Matthew spoke, curiosity and a slight bit of amusement lingering on his words.

"What."

"Why do you hate me so much? You've hated me ever since I dated Liz back in our first year of college and I never truly understood why," he questioned with genuine curiosity, but there was also a certain playfulness in his voice. I opened my mouth to answer, still not facing him, and I was so ready to tell him off, god knows I've been wanting to but he cut me off. "Is it because I never slept with you?"

My eyes instantly widened at his words, a clearly offended scoff leaving my lips as I turned around to face him, "what? No, of course not, I—" my words got caught in my throat when I saw his tall frame towering over me, my eyes getting stuck on his chest before they traveled up to his face, and he was close. Extremely close. I swallowed thickly, feeling slightly cornered by his significantly taller frame so I stepped back, trying to create some kind of distance between us, but he simply followed me. "I, uhm, that's not why I don't like you, Matthew. I don't like you because you're an insensitive asshole and—"

"Oh, I know why you hate me," he cut me off again, slowly running his tongue to wet his perfectly pink lips. "You hate me because I dated Liz and not you."

His proclamation made my eyes grow even wider and my mouth hung open as I stammered for words. I wanted to disagree, I truly wanted to tell him that he was wrong. But honestly, he wasn't altogether wrong. I couldn't say some of my resentment didn't come from a deep rooted feeling of rejection. Because while most of that resentment came from that place of genuine hurt, my resentment was fueled by frustration and a shameless sense of envy.

But it was just easier to convince myself that I hated him than to admit that I still liked him and that it hurt me that he chose my friend over me.

But of course, I would never admit to that, especially not to him.

Avoiding eye contact, I looked down and shook my head, running my tongue to wet my suddenly dry lips, "of-of course not. Why—why would I care about your dating life? You can fuck whoever you want, I don't care." I wish I sounded more confident when I said that. But my stuttering words and my unsteady legs gave him exactly what he wanted.

And the bastard actually chuckled. He fucking chuckled.

"But you do, you do care. You care because you haven't stopped thinking about us and me since our first year." He grinned, digging his teeth into his perfect lips as he brought a hand to cup my face, lifting it so I had no other choice but to look at him.

And I was fucking gone.

It was like, all of that anger, frustration and hatred just vanished and instead turned into longing want. Want for him to just take me and do whatever he pleases with me. I was practically nothing in his hands, and I was nothing waiting for him to make me something. Waiting for him to make me his.

And that absolutely delighted the bastard. He found amusement in having the power I never allowed him to have. But right now, I just couldn't fight it.

I always knew that if I ever found myself alone and in this situation with Matthew Gubler, I would lose, no matter how much I tried to convince myself otherwise.

And he knew that too.

"That's it, isn't? You want me to fuck you like I fucked your friend." He smirked, almost like he was proud to say it. And he stared, his usually soft amber eyes now brown and darkened with want.

Who the fuck was this guy and where did Matthew go? Matthew Gubler was the most awkward and disgraceful guy when it came to women. The poor guy couldn't even flirt his way out of a wet paper bag. And yet, somehow, here he was, with this new found confidence and the ability to turn me into a shaking and stuttering mess. Who fucking knew.

Once again, I stammered for words, I truly wanted to tell him otherwise. I wanted to scream in his face and push him away, but I couldn't. Not that I wanted to.

He took my lack of response as the answer he was looking for and brought his other hand to my waist, backing me up against the nearest wall, caging me between the hard surface behind me and his body, which right now, seemed so much bigger than mine.

My breathing instantly skyrocketed as I felt the same hand that was on my waist sneak its way past the ends of my dress and up my bare thighs, ones that shook like an earthquake as the pads of his fingers slowly rubbed the tense skin. Like he was testing the waters. Testing how well my body reacted to his touch.

And it wasn't subtle. At all.

"W-what—what are you doing?" I almost squealed, my voice practically betraying me.

"Oh? Well, I'm just giving you what you wanted. I'm giving you what you've been wanting for years." He stated so casually, like he had no idea what he was doing to me. And just as casually, he slowly ran a finger over the thin cotton fabric of my underwear, touching me, but definitely not in the way I needed to be touched.

I wished my body didn't betray me like it did though. I couldn't even hold back the breathy moan that escaped my lips when his fingers made contact with the thin material. But Matthew certainly loved the response I gave him.

"Because this is what you've been wanting, isn't it? You've been thinking about how my fingers would feel buried inside your little cunt. Or how good you would feel around my cock." He taunted, it was almost cynical just how easily those filthy words rolled off his usually reserved tongue. "I'm not gonna lie, I've thought about it too, you have no idea how many times I've thought about having your filthy mouth wrapped around me. Or how pretty you would look begging me for more."

I opened my mouth to speak but my words instantly got caught in my throat when the sneaky bastard pulled the fabric to the side and dipped his fingers into the soaking mess that was my core.

And if there were any rational thoughts still hanging in my head, all of those just went straight out the window when another moan erupted from my throat and my head fell back into the wall behind me.

"See just how much easier things are when you just shut the fuck up and stop fighting so much?" He almost whispered, his lips ghosting over the skin on my neck as a lithe finger gathered my wetness and spread it over my clit.

Despite being a complete whimpering mess at that point, I managed to spit out a surprisingly harsh, "fuck you."

It was a pretty convincing retort. One that didn't exactly have the effect I hoped for though.

I could feel him smirk into my neck as his lips left wet and sloppy kisses into the skin before he pulled back, just so he could see the look of utter want and frustration on my face.

"Hm, sorry sweetheart, I can't do that. I'm too busy trying to fuck you instead."

I swear to god, he was the biggest asshole I have ever met in my entire fucking life. But he was an asshole who immediately slipped two of his sinfully long fingers into my dripping core. I instantly choked on my own breath as he began working his fingers around the muscles, stroking the digits inside me at an agonizingly slow pace.

"Because that's what you want don't you sweetheart? You want to me to fuck you into that mattress until you can't keep your eyes open?" He continued, his filthy words making me pant like I ran for fucking miles. "I do too, trust me I do. And I will, I promise. But I want to make up for all of the lost time. Don't you?"

I wasn't even paying attention to whatever filthy proclamations were coming out of Matthew's mouth, with my eyes nearly closed, my mouth slightly open and my mind only focusing on his fingers working diligently inside me, how could I?

But Matthew was expecting an answer this time. Because I could feel his darkened eyes glare into my face and his fingers immediately stilled inside me. Earning a loud whine from me.

"I asked you a question, answer me."

It took me a minute to remember his question before I quickly nodded, "yes! Yes! Is that what you wanted to hear?" I nearly screamed at his face, my hands coming to clutch his shirt, needing something to relieve some tension.

"I want to hear you say it. Say it, tell me you want me." He demanded, his eyes locking with mine as he waited for what he wanted to hear.

He wanted me to beg, he wanted me to give up that control I never allowed him to have. And was I going to?

Absolutely.

I needed to.

"I want you, Matthew, I want you to take me and fuck me into that mattress until I can't walk straight. Please."

I guess that was the answer Matthew had been looking for because his fingers immediately began to work diligently inside me again, stroking the digits until he had me whimpering and begging for release.

It wasn't long before my head started to spin and stars began to blur my vision. Words were no longer an option at that point, nothing would come out, not even Matthew's name. All I could manage to let out were pathetic, strangled moans. But he could tell I was close, or I figured that much because his fingers only worked faster around my tightening walls, determined to finish me.

"C'mon sweetheart, come for me." he encouraged through gritted teeth as his fingers were anything but still inside me and his palm applied a crushing pressure into my front. And even when my eyes were half closed and my mind had turned into dust, I could see the look of utter determination on his face, his eyebrows were furrowed as his teeth dug into his perfectly plump lips. It was like his only focus was on driving me over the edge. And he succeeded.

The second his fingers curled, I was fucking gone. My orgasm hit me like a tidal wave. My eyes rolled into the back of my head as I cried out his name like a praise, my body nearly spasming against the wall. But his fingers didn't stop until my whole body shook to the point where my legs no longer supported my weight and I practically slid into the wall as I tried to catch my breath.

It was almost dizzying just how quickly Matthew withdrew his fingers from me and hoisted me up on his slim torso. He wasted absolutely no time in striding over to my bed across the room. My whole body collided with my bed so quickly and forcefully it knocked the air out of my chest.

Matthew was practically ripping away his clothes before I could even sit up or catch my breath. Like he had this urgency to do what I've been avoiding for the past two years. Like he needed to do it, right now, like something would happen before he got the chance to.

"Matthew—"

"Shut up, I've heard enough shit from you for the past two years, and I'm fucking tired of it." He almost growled, his usually soft voice coming out so low and dark it actually stroked fear in my heart. It was scary just how quickly his demeanor changed.

Matthew didn't really waste much time in discarding his clothes, he was down to only his boxers and was on top of me before I could even blink. He brought a hand to my chest and he pushed me down until my back was flat on the bed, but his hand stayed there, pinning me there as he hovered over me, trapping my significantly smaller body under his own.

He wasted no time in grabbing a hold of my dress and pulling it over my head. And I could've sworn I saw pure awe and infatuation flash through his eyes as they shamelessly eyed over my newly exposed skin. Come to think of it though, this was the first time I was this naked in front of him, and even then, I wasn't fully naked. Not yet anyway.

After a good minute, his eyes flickered back up to meet with mine, his previous look of awe quickly replaced by this feral look of want and pure desire. And I couldn't say it didn't excite me to see it.

He brought a hand to my face, running his smooth fingers over my face with a surprising amount of delicacy before he deep rooted them into my hair and slightly tilted my head back before he brought his face into mine, our lips crashing into a deep fervent kiss. I didn't realize we have never actually kissed. No wonder there was so much desperation and hunger within that kiss. We've been wanting this ever since we met, and ironically, I wanted it more.

His mouth was harsh and fervent against mine, his tongue wasting no time before it quickly slipped between my lips without much of a warning. His tongue explored every inch of my mouth and took as much control as he wanted to as he brought one of his hands to discard my brassiere, he struggled a bit at first but he managed to unhook it and discarded the flimsy material along with the rest of forgotten clothes. He pulled back to capture the image of my newly exposed skin. And he wasn't subtle, at all.

I almost felt intimidated under his deep and penetrating gaze as he shamelessly ogled my exposed body. I was completely exposed to him, completely vulnerable and right now, he could do whatever the fuck he wanted with me. And that scared me, it scared me just how quickly he took control over me after years of fighting against it.

With a hard swallow and a bob of his Adam's apple, Matthew slowly licked his lips, scraping his teeth against his slightly swollen bottom lip in a way that almost made me roll my eyes back into my head. But I didn't, instead I just locked eyes with him as he brought his face down and wrapped his lips around one of my breasts and his tongue swirled around the sensitive bud almost expertly, using one of his hands to toy with the other.

"O-oh fuck." I couldn't help but helplessly moan into the air as my hands found their way into his mop of brown curls. This reaction certainly delighted the bastard above me because I could feel his eyes burning into my face and his lips curving into a smirk around me before he slowly pulled back, latching on to my nipple as he pulled off it.

"You have a very filthy mouth, jeez." He tisked, slightly shaking his head disaprovingly but still had that fucking smirk of his.

Clearly, I wasn't amused, in the slightest, so his stupid comment earned him a nice and concise, "fuck you."

But then again, it didn't have the effect I hoped for.

"Mhm, yeah, you're about to." He retorted one last time before bringing his face back up to mine, capturing me in a heated and messy kiss that only worked as distraction from the journey Matthew's hands took down south. I was only brought back to reality when I felt my underwear being ripped away and the cool air hitting me. And he was quick to pull down his own boxers and allowed his length to spring free. And I couldn't even play off the fact that I had to stare, my mouth slightly hanging open at the sight of him.

"You're so cute when you stare." He taunted, his words being fairly tame in contrast to his very dark and not innocent tone. The sound of his voice made me flicker my eyes to meet his face. Big mistake, because the borderline devious smirk on his face didn't help, at all. And it certainly didn't help when he positioned himself between my legs, rubbing himself on my already dripping heat.

"You do have condoms here, right?" He asked, but I wasn't paying attention, with him rubbing himself on my slick, I couldn't really pay much attention to anything. "I could just fuck you bareback, I'm clean, so I don't care. But it's up to you." He spoke again, slightly teasing my entrance with the tip of his length, hoping to actually get my attention, and I actually listened this time.

Biting my lip, I mentally cursed at my lack of sexual activity because it just so happened that I had no condoms. Matthew gave me an expectant look, not to pressure me, but just waiting impatiently. I knew if I told him to stop he would without a second thought, but he would just leave. I wasn't going to make that mistake twice.

"I'm clean too, just," I chewed on my bottom lip, already shuddering with anticipation as I hooked my legs around his slim torso, pulling him closer, "just take me, please just fucking take me already."

I didn't have to say it twice.

Without a second thought, he propped himself up on his arms and pressed his face against mine as he slammed into me in one swift motion. A strangled moan erupted from my throat as he buried himself to the hilt, stretching me open at once. And fuck, the feeling of him inside me was intoxicating, addicting even, I don't think I've ever felt like this before.

This was so fucking wrong. So wrong, so wrong to be fucking the guy my friend dated, so wrong to be fucking the guy I swore to everyone I hated. It was just wrong. So why the hell did it feel so right? It was so perfectly right the way our bodies felt together, like they simply belonged there, buried deeply within one another. I never wanted to stop feeling like this.

It was almost dizzying just how good he felt. And with the quick and fervent pace he set for himself right from the start, I knew I probably wouldn't last long. With my eyes rolled into my head, my open mouth and my body sprawled out on the bed as I tried to find something to hold on to, he probably had one hell of a view. And he enjoyed it too, because his thrusts only became harsher.

"Fuck, sweetheart, you're so fucking beautiful," he cursed through gritted teeth, his hands holding my hips down with a vice like grip, making sure I couldn't move. And it wasn't for lack of trying. My body shook and shuddered like a fucking earthquake around him but he simply held me down as he continued.

"You feel so good too. I can't believe you made me wait two fucking years for this. Fuck." He nearly shouted, slamming into me with an insane amount of force and clenched his eyes shut, almost as if the thought made him angry, "two fucking years to take what was mine."

His. He called me his.

Fuck, I wish those filthy words didn't have such a strong effect on me, but boy did they make a number on me. I couldn't even hold back the guttural cry that erupted from my chest as I nodded feverishly, not really realizing what I was nodding to.

"Yes! Fuck yes, Matthew, I'm yours!" I almost screamed, saying whatever incoherent thoughts flashed through my mind, letting the whole floor know just how much fun I was having and with whom. And with my mind and thoughts being too clouded by the feeling of him, I didn't even think about what those words entailed.

But it didn't matter because they served their purpose regardless. I wasn't expecting just how much the words actually affected him, because his hips began to falter, his thrusts becoming longer but impossibly deeper. And I could see how concentrated he was, with sweat forming on his forehead, his teeth digging into his bottom lip and his breath was hard and short, like this was a task he was determined to finish. He was determined to ruin me.

Letting out a guttural and nearly animalistic groan, Matthew grabbed a hold of my hips and raised them so that each thrust would make him bottom out inside of me, knowing just how close we both were to our release. "Yeah, that's right, sweetheart, let the whole floor know who's making you feel this good," he growled as he gave one last final but brutal thrust, digging his fingers into my hips so tight I just knew I would have bruises tomorrow as he held me down on him, "let the whole floor know you're mine."

And just like that, my orgasm crashed into me, Matthew's harsh words of ownership sending me into a euphoric state of pleasure, my lips chanting his name like a mantra and my walls tightening around him as he came deeply into me, my own name rolling off his tongue in a quiet praise. And the utter and absolute look of ecstasy on his face made up for the bruises I would have to hide for the next few days and for the two years we've made each other's life a living hell. Because right now, seeing that look of being completely fucked, I just wanted nothing more than to just stay like this.

The second we were no longer blinded by our highs, he fell forward, nearly crushing me under his weight as he struggled to get himself up. Yeah he looked fucked alright. Despite knowing damn well he could've easily rolled off me, he didn't, he simply rested his head on my chest and closed his eyes like he was just going to sleep there. A small smile made its way to my lips at the sight of his tousled brown curls on my chest, ignoring all logic, I ran my fingers through the messy locks, and they were in fact as soft as they always looked.

Realizing just how bad this was for me, and just how vulnerable I actually looked, I smacked his forehead, successfully earning a glare from him once he lifted his head, looking dead at me with his now soft amber eyes.

"You're crushing me, you ass, get off." I breathed out and rolled my eyes, being too exhausted to try and get him off myself. And knowing just how easily he corrupted me, I didn't need another thing to make this harder.

"Okay, okay, jeez." Matthew rolled his eyes, letting his head back into my chest exhaustively and groaned tiredly into my chest before he gathered just enough strength to roll off me and collapsed beside me, his reddened and sweaty chest still rising and falling unevenly as he was still trying to steady his breathing. And I was trying, too. And we just stared, we stared at each other, saying nothing. There was nothing to be said. It was better that way.

After a long long while of silently staring at each other, he brought a hand to my face and rested it there, his thumb mindlessly rubbing over the warm skin of my cheek and he smiled, he simply smiled. And it felt good, it felt comforting, sweet even, it was a funny contrast after what he just did to me.

"So.. About our project.."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag list:

Matthew Gray Gubler

All- @aberrant-annie @marauder-exe @vquezada84 @boiled-onionrings @writeronkeyboard @l0ve-0f-my-life @mariaramz @soederberg

OUaT in NYU-

So I'm starting a tag list for this fic because it will be a mini series so let me know if you'd like to be added to the once upon in NYU tag list

#criminal minds #mgg #spencer reid #mgg x reader #mgg smut #mgg fanfiction #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x reader #Matthew Gray Gubler smut #x reader

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nagisasstunningpersonality · 3 years

Text

TINSITOGS, a retrospective (happy birthday)

(yes I’m like two days too late I know I’m sorry)

Why hello followers and ass class fandom, nice to see you there. I’m sure MOST people know about this, but in case you don’t, hi. On AO3 I’m better known as livixbobbiex, writer of maybe one of the most infamous Assassination Classroom fics.

Which I mean like, if you haven’t read it yet you totally should it’s fanlore at this point I promise-

Shameless plug that I don’t need aside, I felt that, on its first birthday since actual completion, I just wanted to share some things about it. Some tit bits about writing it, fun facts, maybe even some author advice TM. I appreciate that it’ll be super annoying if I do that in the tags, though, so that’ll all be under the cut. If you don’t want to read the whole post, then no matter what, thanks for the support in general!

I also want to take the opportunity to announce that I’ve reopened my discord, so if you want to talk about my fics with me (and others), you’re more than welcome to join! (the link is here)

The origin story

I’ve stated this many times, I think, but TINSITOGS was never supposed to be a serious story. Taking you back, quite a long time, it actually started in a facebook DM with a friend. We used to come up with “head canons” with each other, which were basically just very condensed fanfiction plots over a multitude of text messages. I believe I was trying to cheer her up, and I tried to come up with some kind of plot line.

At the time, I was fairly fresh to the Ass Class fandom, and I was joking about how there were no teen pregnancy melodrama fanfictions. It wasn’t that I wanted one, I just thought it was strange for a school centric anime with a bunch of ships to NOT have one. And, back then, I only really cared about karmagisa. So I just decided ‘right it’s happening’. The reason I decided to make it ABO was due to ‘it making sense’. Fun fact: it was almost written as AFAB trans Nagisa, but I decided against it as I didn’t rate my ability to handle it well back then. Looking back on it, I’m glad I made that decision.

Over around two months, writing out the plot of this story took over my life a little bit. I had no idea where I was going with it, but I was having so much fun with the drama that I decided that Karma and Nagisa shouldn’t get together soon at all, and I had a lot of fun teasing my friend with the ‘will they won’t they’. It was only when I got bored that I invented this intense drama plotline to finish it all off.

That period of time was a lot of fun. And whilst that friendship didn’t end well, I still have a lot to thank her for. She chose Daichi’s name because I had no idea, and she wanted to annoy me because I didn’t like Haikyuu. When I couldn’t decide on his hair colour, the purple was her suggestion because ‘why logic?’ Daichi speaking Korean was because of how much she liked Kpop. She even helped me choose the title of the actual fic, so there’s a lot you can thank her for, honestly.

After I finished that story, though, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Whenever I daydreamed, I used to think about that damn Daichi Akabane, and how much I wanted to tell his story. I’d even come up with extra stuff to fill in a lot of the gaps, and developed his character in my mind. I decided that I was really desperate to write it down. Usually that worked when I had an idea I wanted to work through.

I wrote the first chapter in late 2017, and then the next two as well. I just, kept going, and realised that I could go further still. TINSITOGS was never something that was supposed to be shared, but I decided I may as well. After all, that fated ‘teen pregnancy drama’ fic still didn’t exist, and I thought it would be funny to make it happen.

Yes, as I’ve stated publicly a few times, TINSITOGS was a crack fic. If I wanted attention from it, it was infamy. We even joked about me cursing the fandom if it ever became the most popular fic (whoops?). What I wasn’t expecting was a bunch of people, in a fandom where at the time there were NO ongoing karmagisa fics and it was pretty dead, to really seem to enjoy it. It was enough to have me keep writing it, at least. I still don’t know at what point I actually started taking it seriously, but somehow I did, and the rest is history?

The reception

In my wildest dreams, I never thought that I would be the author of one of the most popular fics in the fandom. To this day, the amount of views TINSITOGS has is insanity to me. For the record, across all platforms it’s on today it has 238,000, which is literally a number I can’t even visualise anymore. Almost quarter of a MILLION. To this day on AO3, it’s the most viewed Ass Class fic that’s an ACTUAL ass class fic (the others are multi fandom compilations). So yeah, I achieved the original goal, I guess?

Now you might be wondering, “omg the karmagisa fandom is fujoshi trash”. And, considering the origins, it is kind of funny. The thing is, though, TINSITOGS was written at incredibly good time. It was written when there were, essentially, very few long form Karma/Nagisa stories. If any other fics did get posted on occasion, they were usually just oneshots. I was also, at that point, writing very fast. A symptom of ADHD is becoming obsessively productive over certain things. Since I was able to get a 3k chapter out every few days/once a week, TINSITOGS was consistently bumped to the top of AO3′s default view. And some of those first few chapters were altered canon, and transcribing the canon dialogue didn’t take very long. The more views it got, the more people would read it out of sheer curiosity.

I think it also helps that, at least after it started getting some positive feedback (which was honestly after the pre written chapters), I purposely tried to make it ‘not terrible’. I mean, I personally think the first chapter is pretty weak and if it wasn’t somewhat iconic to a lot of people I’d rewrite it. But in general, I purposely tried to make the world of ABO my own, to make it more accessible to those who don’t like that genre, and stay away from the inherently grosser stuff as much as possible. I genuinely do get comments about how I introduced people to the genre as a whole, still not sure if that’s a GOOD thing but hey, it happened.

TINSITOGS turned into a lot more than just a joke. It turned into my favourite hobby. It turned into a research project (honestly, you would not believe the amount of mummy vlogs and legit scientific articles about child development I consumed). It turned into something that, at least I believe, was widely loved.

Meaning

I think it might be wrong to say that I don’t have AN idea of when I started to take the fic super seriously. For me, it was around the time someone commented something along the lines of saying my writing meant a lot to them, that they’d spent all night reading it and had been unable to put it down.

Not to get too dark here, but I do have a past in writing a very long, somewhat popular fic (it’s still on my fanfic net profile if anyone’s interested, but I don’t recommend it). However, in the latter part of my teenage years, the depression struck. Writing was the love of my life, and I couldn’t bring myself to do it anymore. Maybe I’d be able to muster an idea or even a chapter at the best points of that, but I’d never completely finished any story. Starting to write again was a huge step in my recovery, and one of the reasons I convinced myself that life was worth it was being able to impact someone’s life somehow. Even to this day, I still remember the fics I read when I was, like, thirteen. How much I still remember them, and how much they meant to be at the time. I wanted to be that writer for someone else. To be honest, it was actually Yuri!!! On Ice that got me out of the super bad, but I still never wrote anything of real consequence. TINSITOGS was the first time in a long time I actually committed to something.

And, to be completely honest, there were a lot of times I was tired of it, and wanted to just quit. But, the thing was, I felt like people depended on me in a way. I got so many comments that were just FILLED with support, telling me how much they looked forward to every update. It wasn’t just empty words, either, a lot of the times these comments would be super engaged with the actual writing. I can’t even describe just how much they meant to me, how much I would look forward to reading everyone’s opinions. And then discord happened, which was a lot of fun.

TINSITOGS went a lot further than I ever thought it would. There were comments, discussions, fan art, fan FIC (which is honestly incredible to me). Someone even added it to TV Tropes, at one point. Not to mention the Cards Against Humanity deck and quiz It makes me so unbelievably happy that I could inspire that much creativity, but it’s a two way street. It was all of that which inspired me to write, too.

Writing

The only real goal I actually had was aiming for around 3000 words per chapter. I had a whole facebook log of plot points as planning, and I was mostly just trying to expand on them into prose. I honestly thought that, at its completion, the entire fic would be around 100k words, if that. Not, at one point, being literally the longest ass class fic on AO3.

There are a lot of aspects that were directly adapted from the original messages, and I tried to stay faithful to it more so at first, even if I later removed some of the pure crack. But the style was also vaguely similar, with the story being told mostly from Nagisa’s perspective with swaps to Karma when it made sense. All the main plot beats, too, are pretty much identical. The plus to this was I was able to add a lot of really fun foreshadowing, and I feel like it’s a fun reread because of it.

Honestly though, if there’s a demand to release those OG message logs, I will. Mostly because it’s kind of funny, and interesting to see. Isogai and Nagisa were engaged at one point, even.

Obviously, it changed somewhat. 3000 was the minimum length, and the time to completion was whenever it felt right. One of my big concerns was about pacing, so it took a lot more fleshing out and maybe ‘filler’ content for some of the main arcs to work.

There’s parts of TINSITOGS I don’t think aren’t written that well, and some that I’m still super proud of. I think you can definitely tell there’s a gradual shift in style, and I get a lot more comfortable with writing them as characters as it goes along. To be honest, my pride for the fic overall is what it represents.

It is funny to think about the places it got written in, though. I started it when I worked at McDonalds with no life direction, then it went through my first year of university with me. It’s been written in at least four countries. Aeroplanes, night clubs, long haul buses, a train through the Japanese southern coastline. Even the start of covid. TINSITOGS managed to see a lot. I even turned a scene in (the boat scene during the India chapter with altered names) to my university as a legitimate assignment.

There were also a few messages I wanted to achieve, once I realised I had the platform to put them across. One of them was, obviously, ‘use protection kids’. It was important to me that I didn’t glamorise it too much, and I think that came across. I also wanted to dispute some of the issues with ABO, and subvert the consent issues as much as I could. An arc I really ‘liked’ writing was how abuse doesn’t always look the same way, and that it can be a drawn out change in behaviour. How the most important part of ‘being a good parent’ isn’t perfection, but genuinely loving and doing the best you can for your kid. How love doesn’t solve everything, and effective communication can take a very long time to learn and build a functional relationship. I mean, there definitely was a lot I tried to put in, and you’re free to interpret it all how you want. But, I like to think some people learnt some of these things, at least.

Daichi

Honestly, Daichi developed almost of his own free will. I had a good idea of his appearance, and that he was smart. Writing him from birth until around nine years old (older if you read the sequel fic) pretty much allowed that fluidity. It was really fun to explore a nature vs nurture development, and let his own characteristics speak for themselves.

He’ll always have a special place in my heart.

This is the first image I ever made. When I was trying to figure out what Daichi looked like, I honestly just edited Karma’s hair (pretty well, actually? I’m impressed with my past skill). That’s where the ‘he looks just like Karma’ meme kind of came from.

This was the first image I actually created of Daichi. I THINK it was on rinmaru games mega anime creator or something, but it’s literally not available on the internet anymore as far as I can tell, so I can’t double check. This was in the pre-piccrew days. His eyes are closed because they didn’t have the right tone of goldish/silver.

His sister, Kaguya, didn’t even exist originally, even though I decided on that ending pretty early on. Actually, she was going to be called ‘Irina’ due to some hijinks. Initially, when Karma found out about Irina’s pregnancy, she was going to get super emotional and mad at him and basically force him to name his first born daughter after her. Karma agreed to shut her up, never intending to have another child, so when the surprise second child later came along they had to live with the pain. However, to be honest I just forgot to write in the actual scene that set it all up, and I decided against adding it anywhere else. The name Kaguya was a very last minute decision, and it was a chance for me to explore some ideas that didn’t fit with Daichi’s character.

Interestingly too, Daichi and Nao were never intended to be a thing. I only decided that towards the VERY end. Even though the reason I named Nao that was because of a ship I had in a J Drama (Good Morning Call). It just kind of ended up happening because I won myself over with imagining the cute.

The music

I used to write with a lot of background music, though not all the time. Particularly towards the start, there was a lot that didn’t really make sense thematically, yet I would write to a lot.

Here’s a link to the spotify playlist if you want it it’s basically all the ones I noted I’d listened to a lot. Not including the smut ones, though, I have a whole playlist for that.

Some of the notable ones:

Five String Serenade - the first scene I wrote of the entire fic, in Chapter 25 New Year Time where they fell asleep cuddling.

Cosmic Love - when I wrote Nagisa’s love confession scene in hospital (I also wrote this pretty early on)

Northern Downpour (though it was actually a cover by Emma Blackery) - The chapter after Daichi’s born (30)

When The Party’s Over - Confession Time Third Period, Chapter 69. I literally listened to this song on REPEAT when I planned and wrote the kind of ‘break up’ scene, and it’s one of the few parts that made me cry writing.

Turning Page - I know I said no smut, but this song actually gave me the idea to have the “I love you” in chapter 108 be less on a whim and actually more built up. In the original plan, Karma really did just say it without thinking. I’m glad I changed that.

Bury Me Low and Numb - pretty much all I listened to when writing the last few chapters, because Evil Nagisa core. So much so that Bury Me Low was in my top 2020 songs rewind.

As for the title, there’s actually quite a funny story. I had no idea what to call the fic, and when that happens I usually just try and find some song lyrics. I really wanted to use something from ‘October’ by the Broken Bells. Not only because it’s my favourite song (has been for years), but thematically it really worked. The issue was, it worked as the WHOLE song, there were no individual lyrics that captured everything. And, if they did, they didn’t flow very well. And naming the fic ‘October’ would have been weird for a lot of reasons. There Is No Sweeter Innocence That Our Gentle Sin really was just plucked randomly, in a desperate search to find any snappy lyrics from any song that had some kind of meaning. After a bit of discussion, we settled that it kind of worked... if Daichi is innocent and they committed a sin or something. It also wasn’t the most obvious lyric from the song (Take Me To Church if anyone doesn’t know) so I just went with it. It works out, I think, because TINSITOGS turned out to be a pretty good acronym and pronounceable word in its own right.

The merch redbubble drama

It’s a well known fact that I’m not very good at art. However, I decided to try pixel art because it seemed the easiest to not mess up. I made Karma and Nagisa, before deciding to also give Daichi a try.

This, to this day, is the only good quality art of Daichi that I actually own. The only one I’m actually happy sharing and thinking it doesn’t look terrible. As much as I love people sending me fanart, it’s not ‘my property’, right.

So, I was kind of joking about TINSITOGS having merchandise. At first I just made two funny quote things, and uploaded it to redbubble. I was never intending to actually make money from this, and I’d agreed to myself that if I did, I would just donate it to charity. I was joking with the quotes, but since I had this artwork I figured I may as well uploaded. Separately, there was also an image that had pixel Daichi next to pixel Nagisa and Karma (which I also created).

Aside from showing up in a few people’s adverts across the internet, there was no real harm with this. In fact, I didn’t make money anyway. It was just... more the joke of it existing. I did, however, buy myself a Daichi phone case, which is one of my favourite possessions.

The funny ‘drama’ comes in when they got taken down due to copywrite. Sure, the one with Nagisa and Karma, I understand. But the other three literally had no mention or anything to do with Assassination Classroom, aside from being from a fanfiction. So basically, someone who owns those rights claimed my OC as theirs. Which makes Daichi canon? Whatever the case, I found this hilarious don’t worry.

How has TINSITOGS changed my life?

This is quite a strange thing to think about. Because, in a lot of ways, it really hasn’t. As I’m sure a lot of people know, I don’t really consider myself to have any real ‘fame’, despite the impressive numbers. Whenever I tell people in my personal life, they seem to think I’m some sort of internet celebrity, but that’s never been the case for me. I mean, it’s hardly a cultural phenomenon.

In a lot of ways, I’d much rather befriend someone than have them admire me. Possibly because being someone’s inspiration is kind of weird... I’m just an awkward duck who likes to write after all. I don’t mind it, though. I genuinely find it an honour, even if I don’t necessarily agree. I also want to take this time to say that if anyone ever wants to talk or message me, you’re more than free to do so. I’m usually super casual with people who do that, I promise.

TINSITOGS was the first story I ever finished in the way I truly wanted to. Start to end, a full narrative. And it took a LOT. There were so many times I almost felt like quitting, or took super long breaks. For me, ADHD queen, actually finishing something was a huge deal. And I know I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t owe it to everyone who read it, and myself, to see it through. You know like, if I were to die tomorrow, at least I’ve left something behind.

In a lot of ways, it’s changed me for the better. It’s helped me develop my writing styles, and way of thinking. It encouraged me to become more active in the fandom, and develop some important friendships. I always feel like my Tumblr and Fanfiction ‘known’ factor is separate. I think most of my Tumblr following is more to do with my theories/Japanese context research if anything, for example, but I know I wouldn’t be so interested in that if TINSITOGS hadn’t lead me to deeply examine character and really look into analysing source material for clues. I also think there’s just... a lot of myself in it.

I was 17 years old, when I first came up with the idea. I finished the story when I was 20. Now, at the time of writing, I’m 21. That time has seen some pretty significant changes - just in general life facts and my own personal human development. For me at least, a lot of that was pretty turbulent, and TINSITOGS stands as a time capsule for that, in a way.

I know I gained a lot of confidence, and it affirmed to me that writing is what I love. Telling stories and sharing them is what I love.

Conclusion

Do I think TINSITOGS is an outstanding piece of writing, or the best fic ever? No. I really don’t. It’s strange to say because I definitely spent a lot of time on it, but it’s not like I put my full unbridled efforts into the story. I don’t fully plan, use a beta, or even read through on my own. And that’s okay - that’s not what I write fanfiction for. Fanfiction is my place to have fun with characters and stories I like, without the pressures of having to stand on my own complete originality. Yes, I’m fully confident that I can write at a “higher quality”, if I really wanted to. I’m also aware that some authors put their full effort into their fics, and that’s just as valid!

It feels odd to say this about my own writing, but I honestly think there’s just something in this story. It might not be written in the best prose ever, and the premise might be kind of dumb for a lot of people. But, I think, there’s some part of this fic that managed to grab people. Somehow, at some point, many readers get captured into the emotions and so drawn in that ‘they just have to finish it now!’ Again, I’m not sure myself how I actually achieved that. Of course, that won’t apply to everyone, but I do feel there’s some truth in it. And it makes me happy, to have caused that.

If TINSITOGS is your favourite fic, or if you genuinely think it’s the best story you’ve read, then thank you. I really appreciate your support, and I’m happy to have been a part of your life, I guess. I know how much fanfics can mean to a person, and that’s why I’m not going to take it down, or edit it at all. And it’s fine too, if you loved the fic for a while and moved on -i t happens. Whatever the case, I’m very honoured to have been able to occupy a moment of your life. Or if you find this fic in 10 years time, even, I still wholly appreciate you.

This story was incredibly important to me, and thank you for reading if it was ever important to you too.

You may ask, what now? Well, this is only intended to be a detailed look back for whoever’s interested, and it’s likely the only one I’ll actually do, a year after completion. Of course, if you ever want to ask me anything or just discuss the story, you’re honestly good to contact me in whatever way I have available.

I’m still writing my ongoing stories, of course, despite taking a small break due to the university work load. I fully intend to complete the stories I’ve already started to tell, at least. After that... I’m not sure if I’ll still write fanfiction. Don’t panic, this isn’t a ‘I’m quitting writing’ thing. I may, however, have bled the Karmagisa genre a bit too dry at that point. Who knows? I am pretty interested in writing something original for once, so maybe that’ll work out.

For now, at least, thank you to anyone who read this fic. To anyone who commented, liked, or interacted with me over it. To anyone who created or learnt from it. I’m really glad that I got to share this story with you all, and ultimately left some kind of mark, no matter how big or small.

Happy birthday, TINSITOGS. I had a lot of fun writing you.

#ass class #assassination classroom #ansatsu kyoushitsu #tinsitogs #karmagisa

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