#there's nothing in this universe that we could ever grasp entirely. so much so as another human.

[eccentricwritingbaby]

baby finn series, babysitting and date nights

series masterlist

lando norris x mom!wife!reader

summary - uncle carlos comes over to babysit finn as you and your husband enjoy a night out. 

masterlist

-

when lando had finally turned the latch of the lock to your shared home, he let out an exhausted sigh. he had been in the sim all day with a long road ahead of him in order to secure a win. he was drained. he had been there the entire day, missing dinner and almost missing bedtime. all he wanted was to hug his young son, kiss his beautiful wife, and take a long hot shower. the universe, however, had other plans. 

opening the door, lando was met with baby finn running circles around you in nothing but his diaper. you locked eyes with your husband and he could feel the exhaustion that you were exhibiting, too. finn wasn’t being bad, he was just being a kid. he had loads of energy that you and lando could usually keep up with in high spirits, but, work had been kicking both of your asses. you were both burning out.

“finn, honey, please it’s time for your bath,” you let out a sigh, bringing your hand up to brush the hair out of your face. lando walks over to assess the situation fully, bringing your tired body into his arms for a hug. you slump against him as he kisses your forehead and locks eyes with his son.

“finn. bath. now,” your husband puts his foot down and your son happily runs towards the bathroom, not grasping the exhaustion or irritation of his parents - thankfully. one thing neither of you ever did was push your problems onto your son, and you never wanted to. 

“thank you, i’ll head in there in a min-” you begin but your husband cuts you off with a kiss. 

“no, we agreed you’d take the morning, i’ll take bedtime. i’ve got this,” lando replies with a swipe to your bum. 

“but you look tired, love-”

“so do you. it’s alright, who knows? maybe finn’s innocent energy will rub off on me, eh?” you chuckle at his question and wordlessly nod before he continues, “go get ready for bed, i’ll call you right in,” one more smack to your bum and lando is heading into the bathroom to start his son’s nightly routine as you follow his polite orders to take care of yourself. 

around a half hour later, lando is calling you into finn’s room for a cuddle and a tuck into bed. as you arrive, you can see finn slowly losing his energy cuddled into your husband’s arms, letting out a yawn. 

“is my sweet boy tired?” you question towards your son, seeing lando nod his head yes as finn lets go of a quiet ‘so much mommy’. 

“i think he had a case of the late night zoomies,” lando lets out a laugh as he gently sets his son into bed, proceeding to get him comfortable under the blankets. you both then lean down, kissing his forehead, wishing him a good night's sleep, and reminding him you’d see him in the morning. after the lights are off and the door cracked a bit open, lando leads you down the hall towards your bedroom with a firm hand on your lower back. 

you collapse onto the bed in a huff once you enter, leading your husband to quietly laugh at you - still cautious of the sleepy boy down the hall. 

“i’m heading to shower, love. care to join?” lando offers with eyes wide and smile even larger. you grant him a feverish nod and begin to follow behind him eagerly as he giggles. 

once you were both stripped and into the steamy shower, lando’s body slumped against yours, his back being attacked by the hot water and his head resting on your shoulder. you run your hand gently through his wet curls as he lets out a deep sigh. 

“wanna talk about it?” you whisper into his hair. lando shakes his head and mumbles into your shoulder, “could you repeat that, love?” you giggle, shaking your shoulder a bit to move lando’s face out of your neck and into your view. his hands grip your waist as yours are guided to rest on either side of his face.

“i just want to relax, we haven’t had a day just us to relax, i miss my wife,”

“i miss you too but that’s the life of parents, lan. maybe if you had pulled out three year-”

“alright, alright,” he exclaims, “you don’t need to harp on my pullout game for me to get the picture” he laughs while reaching behind you to grab some body wash. 

“i do agree we need a small break, though,” you sigh, “work has been draining me, i don’t want it to affect finn,”

“ya know who’s in town next week, love?” lando’s eyes sparkle as he asks, prompting you to laugh and let out a shake of your head, urging him to continue, “carlos,”

-

“okay, bud. uncle los will be here very soon, do you remember what we talked about?” lando is on one knee, bent at your son’s level and looking oh so fine. his black button up with most of the top buttons loose, the dark pants to go with it and the chains dangling from his neck already had you worked up, but the adorable nature of his fatherhood? now that’s hot. 

“yes, daddy,” your son replies, you can tell he’s attempting to hold in his excitement as much as he can as he is almost vibrating due to his little bursts of energy. 

“can you tell me again, bubs?” lando holds onto his son’s hands, searching his eyes at an attempt to really have finn understand the importance. 

“um, say pwease and tank you!”

“very good, what else?”

“be nice,”

“good, bubs, anything else?”

“do what uncle los say?” finn adds his last answer with an unsure smile as he eyes his dad with a tilted head. lando chuckles at his son’s cuteness and kisses his head, nodding in confirmation for your son to listen to his babysitter for the night. 

“and help him out, baby. if he needs anything, okay?” you add on, making your entrance in the room known. lando looks over to you and it seems as if his heart stopped, but it hadn’t. if anything it was beating so fast it could've flown out of his chest. standing up from his position on the ground, he makes his way over to you, mouth agape, eyes raking your figure, and head slowly shaking left to right. 

“you look…” your husband drinks in your appearance again, eyes scanning you from head to toe, “absolutely breathtaking,” he finishes off, his right hand coming over to hold his heart. 

“thank you, my love,” you giggle a bit, stepping to him in order to plant a kiss to his cheek, “you clean up pretty nice, too,” you shoot him a wink, walking past him and towards your son. 

“thanks for walking away, dear. this view is much better,” lando lets out a chuckle, eyes not daring to drift from your ass, until your head swivels - and he catches your smile.

“anytime, baby,” you laugh at his antics, leading him on as you bend over to grab your son, slower than usual. you hear a deep groan come from lando but before anymore comments were made, the doorbell rang throughout the home. finn drops from your arms, beginning his race to the door. 

“finn! wait until i open the door!” lando shouts, jogging over to where your toddler was attempting to reach the handle. 

“i big like you dada! i do it!” finn jumps again, trying with all his little might to reach the handle. lando comes behind him, scooping him up from behind and holding him near the handle and lock. 

“alright, go ahead big boy,” lando urges his son to open the door, and when he does, his excited shrieks are all that fill the house. 

“UNCLE LOS!” finn has wiggled out of his fathers’ grasp and already launched himself into carlos’ arms. 

“hola, pequeño,” the ferrari driver lets out with a chuckle. 

“i so excited you here!” finn is squirming up and down in carlos’ arms as the adults all just laugh at the adorable kid. lando pulls him out of carlos’ arms for one more brief chat about his behavior as you hand carlos the important babysitting list. 

“basically, it's all the numbers you don’t already have, like fewtrell and i think my mom, and then his schedule is here,” you continue briefing carlos as lando begins to stand and make his way back to you, “you don’t have to be too strict about this, just have fun,” you assure carlos at the end of the run through. 

“i’ve got it, you guys have fun. finn and i sure will,” carlos begins to usher you two out the door, a hyper-active three year old seemingly glued to his leg.

“call if you need anything, and i mean anything,” lando emphasizes to his friend.

“lando. it will be fine, you muppet. go enjoy your night with your wife, i’m going to catch up with mi amigo, finn, here,” at this point he is pushing you and your husband out the door and you both laugh at the door shutting in your faces. lando extends his arm for you to hold with a ‘m’lady’, and you both make your way to the restaurant. 

-

at the restaurant, the maître d' guides you to your table and lando proceeds to pull out the chair for you to take your seat. both now seated, he begin to ask what drinks to begin with, lando responding with his and you responding with ‘just a water, please’. walking away to fulfill your orders, lando spares you an odd glance.

“it’s our night off, love. you didn’t want to get a drink?” 

“no, just a water will do it for me,” you respond quick, your husband still eyeing you with oddity, “im glad we’re doing this,” you continue, reaching across the table to hold his hand in yours. 

“me too, a night just to ourselves was very needed,” he lets out with a smile. 

“i just hope our boy isn’t causing too much chaos at home,” you sigh, the waiter coming over to take your orders and drop off your drinks. lando just mumbles a ‘they’ll be fine’ almost to assure himself before placing his order. 

-

“vroom! vroom!” finn squeaks out on the floor, rolling his red ferrari cars around the living room. carlos joins in with a laugh, proceeding to hold his own decorated sainz55 car - finn’s most prized possession - and run it around their make-shift track. he quickly pulls out his phone to capture the moment and ease the parents minds.

“finn, look here! it’s for mommy and daddy, smile!” carlos instructs the little boy. finn looks up, letting out a huge smile and giggle, before crawling into the ferrari drivers lap. one more picture - a selfie this time - of finn clinging onto carlos’ neck, and carlos hits a quick send to his friends. 

-

“here, honey,” lando pulls his phone out and sends it your way in order for you to also see the adorable array of photos your babysitter had sent. 

“well aren’t they having fun?” you place a hand over your heart as you speak, too in awe of the little chubby cheeked smile staring back at you. 

“this was a grand idea,” your husband reiterates, putting his phone away into his pocket after typing a response back. you both share a look and a smile, before continuing your previous conversation and finishing your food. 

-

making it home a little past finn’s bedtime, you both didn’t know what you would walk into. bedtime was finn’s only struggle, therefore him being awake when you arrived home wouldn’t be out of the ordinary for what both you and your husband expect. 

except, when you walk in, your house is clean, quiet, and calm. carlos stands from the couch in order to greet the both of you, while you’re both scrambling to pick your jaws off the floor. 

“i’m assuming it went well?” you ask with a laugh while carlos brings you into a light hug.

“si, finn was a gentlemen. he passed out on the couch by seven and i just carried him into his room after that,” you and lando share a look of disbelief before carlos continues, “we played with some cars, ate some dinner, watched a movie, and he went down really easily,”

“can you move in?” lando pops the question into the conversation as carlos laughs off the request, “i’m serious, sainz,” your husband pushes again.

“did you two enjoy your night?” the ferrari driver ignores his friends jokes, directing his attention to you.

“we did, thank you so much for this, carlos,” you respond with a smile, “we really appreciate it,”

carlos gives you another hug goodbye and you begin to make your way towards finn’s room to check on him as lando walks carlos out, continuing his pestering of ‘how did you do it, mate?’ and ‘you don’t understand he hates bedtime’. 

you stand in the doorway of your son’s room for some time, admiring the sleepy boy all cozy under his racecar blankets. feeling a hand on your waist, you turn and catch your husband in a kiss. 

“let’s go to bed, love,” he offers once you break apart. you give him a silent nod, and you both make your way into your bedroom - lando stealing one last glance at your son. 

walking into your bedroom, you discard your heels and begin to unzip your dress.

“ah, ah,” lando stops your movements, replacing your hands on the zipper with his own, “allow me,” you giggle a bit as he continues to unzip your dress, letting it pool onto the floor. he pulls your back into him and begins to pepper your skin with sweet and sensual kisses as you blush in his hold, “we still need to make baby number two,” he mumbles into your skin while continuing his kisses. your body stiffens, lando feeling and understanding the tension releases your body and turns you to face him.

“what is it, y/n? do you not want another baby anymore?” he asks quietly, as if he’s scared of your answer.

“no, no. it’s not that,” you reply, head hanging down to stare at your feet.

“then what is it?” lando cups your chin in his hands with his question, forcing you to meet his eyes.

“it’s just that,” you sigh, searching lando’s eyes, “we don’t need to keep trying, if there’s already a baby on the way,”

[ozarkthedog]

summary: while having a private moment with your boss, the ceo unexpectedly drops by… or so you think.

pairings: Boss!Layla El-Faouly x afab intern!reader x CEO!Marc Spector.

warnings: 18+ only -> mdni. Alt Universe. slight dubcon but reader is willing. power imbalance. free use. f/f -> f/m. established relationship (layla x reader). oral sex (fem receiving). fingering. sex in a private office. dirty talk. praise kink. cum feeding. cream pie.

word count: 3.8k 😅

author’s note: if a fic could come to life, i'd choose this one. thank you to @ghotifishreads for beta'ing and the mental support. i haven't written a fic this long in a while. hope you enjoy. 💙

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ♁ 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

“I have the paperwork all ready for you to sign, Ms. El-Faouly.”

Your boss, Layla, peers up at you with her deep brown eyes from behind her monitor. “Hey, one second. I’ve got to finish this email real quick.” She sends you a soft smile in return before nodding to the right towards a big stack of papers sitting messily on her desk.

Layla had one of the corner offices and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t your favorite spot in the entire building. It floods with sunlight all day long and it’s got a great view of the city. Layla was also another reason why it was your favorite.

“How was your day?” She asks, typing as you place the paperwork on top of the stack.

She’s wearing that dark gray, silk blouse and skirt combo you helped her pick out last week during a night out on the town. You told her it made her look powerful and inviting as you got down on your knees for her later that same evening. 

“It’s going alright.” You sigh, drawing imaginary patterns on the corner of her desk.

Layla clicks send on the email and turns her attention to you. She leans her elbows on the edge of her desk with a pensive brow. You can see her brain working on ways to fix your problems before you even tell her. “What’s wrong?”

You can’t help but laugh. “Nothing is wrong, I swear.” You raise your hands, shaking your head while the gorgeous woman looks you over quizzically.

Stretching your arms over her desk, you grasp her hands, giving them a squeeze. “Honestly, I’m fine. I just..”

 “What is it?” she asks, tucking a few strands of her wild curls behind her ear. She leads you around her desk by your clenched hands and pins your chin between her thumb and forefinger. “Tell me.”

Your eyes dance around the room, landing everywhere but on her. She gives your chin a slight shake and forces your eyes back to hers.

You take a deep breath. “Am I doing a good job?” 

Layla’s heart sinks. “Of course you are. Why on earth-”

“It’s just, it’s so much work.” You cut her off, spilling your worries now that the dam has been broken. “I hate not being able to get everything to you on time. Not to mention there’s so much paperwork. No one ever says thank you but they’ll definitely yell when you’ve done something wrong. I don’t know if I’m doing things right-”

“C’mere, baby.” She ceases your ramble and pulls you down into her lap and into a searing kiss that makes your head swirl.

Tender, yet fierce lips encompass your own, stealing your gasps with fond affection as she winds her arms around your waist and maneuvers you into the position she wants. 

You settle into the pose, kneeling over her lap with your legs on the outsides of her thighs, the cushion of her expensive chair a grateful soft bedding as she forms you to her body. 

“Should we really be doing this?” You ask between broken, breathless kisses. It was after 5pm, so it was less likely anyone would walk in on you and her. Still, hesitation nestled in your belly.  

“Everyone is gone for the night.” She confirms before lewdly dragging her tongue along the seam of your lips. “There’s no need to worry about them.”

Layla presses her forehead against yours sensing your apprehension. She searches your timid eyes for a moment trying to find the right words to express her gratitude.

“You’re doing a wonderful job. I’ve gotten no complaints from anyone. So if they have an issue, they haven’t told anyone,” she says, holding your gaze. “I’m sorry I haven’t told you more about how lucky I am to have you. My life has been so much better since you started working here.”

She holds your face, rubbing her thumb along the apple of your cheek. “In more ways than one.” She winks, playfully.

“Layla!” You gasp, lightly swatting her on the chest.

She sends you a look you know all too well. The raised eyebrow and slightly parted lips mean trouble is coming. In a good way.

“Oh, baby, you don’t know what you started.” Her hands tickle your ribs in a flash making your eyes bug as you try to keep your giggles at bay. You squirm incessantly in her lap, wishing you could break free but she had a strong hold around your waist.

Your skirt slid up your thighs in the process of all your wriggling, no longer hiding your want for her as your panties are noticeably soaked through.

“Oh, baby, you really are desperate for me.” She coos, eyes growing soft as she feigns a pout. “Poor baby.”

She skillfully undoes the pearly buttons on your white, flower-patterned blouse, sliding the thin material off your shoulders and onto the floor. Soft, warm hands palm your breasts, feeling your heartbeat beneath your skin before she makes you gasp by wickedly pinching your sensitive nipples.

She teases her fingers down further then and along the soaked cloth of your panties, drawing light circles over your throbbing, hidden clit. You whimper into her chocolate curls, a soft pathetic mewl, begging her for more as you perch wearily in her lap. 

“What do you say?” she asks with a sharp tongue and pointed stare. 

She weaves her arm around your hips, smoothing a palm over the curve of your ass and dragging your panties down in the process before seeking out your aching warmth once more. A well-manicured finger teases down the slick, puffy seam of you from behind, teasing and torturing you until she’s satisfied. She loves breaking you into little pieces and putting you back together. 

“Please-” You gasp as your hips buck on their own accord, chasing her fingers for relief. “Please, Layla.”

The older woman’s painted lips tug into a sly smile, “That’s my good girl.”

Your world is consumed. Her brunette curls smell of lavender and spice. They tickle your cheek and senses as she plays your body like a well tuned piano. Her hold on you is immense. There’s never any doubt that she doesn’t adore you.

“Look at me, sweetheart.” Layla coos, grasping the back of your neck with her free hand as her other cups your searing mound. You jolt from the touch but do as she says, meeting her soft yet stoic expression with watery eyes.

She pins you with a firm stare as she slowly presses two fingers into your soaked core. You know better than to turn your gaze from her but your eyes flutter as she finally grants you the sweet relief you’ve been begging for.

“That’s my good girl,” Layla praises as she fills you to the hilt, knuckles grazing your puckered hole and claiming every inch of your cunt.

Deft fingers glide with prowess as a steady, toe curling rhythm is set. Your body trembles as a  foggy bliss rolls into your mind. Your knees shake, desperately meeting her thrusts, wanting nothing more than to come around her fingers.

“You take what I give you, sweet girl.” Layla coos, nudging her nose against your cheek. She doesn’t like it when you get greedy. “You know that.”

One of your hands clutches the back of her chair while the other has her blouse in a death grip. A scolding is in your future but you could care less as you rock back onto her fingers chasing the pleasure she’s finally allowing.  

Something heavy in your gut twists. The knot Layla began tying when she first got you onto her lap starts tightening. Your muscles ache, ready to collapse under the pressure when she gives you the word.

Just then, a quick succession of knocks rap on her door.

Your head whips up as Layla’s fingers go still. Ice courses through your veins freezing the searing wildfire that burns in your abdomen. You knew it was stupid to try anything at work. Besides the occasionally secretive kiss, you both kept things to a dull roar. No one knew about your relationship and you wanted it to stay that way.

“Shh. Be still.” Layla whispers, unfazed, as she cups her free hand along your jaw. “You trust me. Right?”

You nod in her tender hold, hips pressing just a bit harder into her palm. “Good girl.”

“Who is it?” Layla calls out. Your body jolts as her fingers begin moving again and you send her a bewildered look.

“Marc,” a gruff voice sounds from the other side of the door. 

Shit — it was the CEO. 

Marc Spector built this company from the ground up. He and Layla had been working together since almost the beginning. They explicitly trusted and respected one another even when they didn’t meet eye to eye. 

You’d met Marc only once. It was a brief interaction as one of your coworkers showed you around on your first day. He was personable and made you feel welcome even though you were a lowly intern.

You thought he was handsome and could kill someone with his smile. His jet black quiff would curl on humid days when he forgot to gel it. It made you admire him even more for some reason. 

“Come in.” She answers while holding your worried gaze with her own unwavering one. 

Your heart jumps into your throat. “Layla, what’re doin-” you hiss, squirming to get free from her arms again.

“Remember your safe word.” she says, quickly just before Marc walks in.

“Layla, I was wonderin-” Marc starts as he steps into the office and instantly cuts himself off at the lewd display. 

You can’t breathe. Shame and embarrassment flood your system. If the floor could open up, you’d gladly jump in. 

Marc stands in awe. You couldn’t turn to face him but you spy his reflection in the darkened window and that’s more than enough. You don't know how you could ever look him in the eye after this.

“What’s this now?” He ponders, intrigue shaping his words as he steps closer, tapping his knuckles on Layla’s oversized desk.

“I was just rewarding her for doing such a good job,” Layla responds like she doesn’t have you propped in her lap with her fingers buried deep inside your cunt. 

You see Marc nod in the reflection and take another step closer. Your body burns like red hot coals as you feel his eyes on your body mainly where Layla’s fingers slowly thrust into your shiny, slick opening.

“That right?” Marc questions with a curious tone as he rubs a hand along his rough five o’clock shadow.  

“She’s so attentive and such a hard worker.” Layla praises, finally looking in your direction. “I had to show how much I appreciate her.”

Marc chuckles. It’s a deep huff of laughter that rumbles from his chest and it makes your insides melt. “Is she any good at helping relieve some stress?” he asks pensively while looking at your holes like he hasn’t eaten in days.

“She most certainly is,” Layla smirks, raising a sculpted brow before sliding a finger under your chin, tipping your face in toward her. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

Your heart drops into your stomach. 

You’d been with Layla since the first day you started working, shared any and all free time together along with the inner workings of your bedroom. Explored each other’s bodies freely and with such passion. Falling to Layla’s feet came naturally to you and she made you feel complete; loved even.

You trusted her to push your limits whenever the time came but you didn’t think you’d ever be in this situation.

“Why don’t you show him how much you love being employed here, baby.” She dubiously insists, slowly nodding her head for you to comply.

You finally gather the courage to look over your shoulder. 

Butterflies flutter wildly in your belly as you take in the devilishly handsome man. His hair is mused, like he’d been running a hand through it all day and his button up shirt is loose at the collar, exposing a column of tan skin with two buttons undone and sleeves rolled up exposing his muscular forearms. “Hey there, sweetheart.”

A nervous chortle bubbles up your throat at the nickname. Your insides turn to jelly; and your brain to mush. Your core can’t help but clench as the older man takes you in with a ravenous gaze.

“Oh, she likes that.” Layla quips upon feeling your pussy clamp down on her fingers. 

“Does she now?” Marc croons, stepping up right behind you. He smooths his hands along the shape of you. His warmth feels good against your skin and you can’t help but moan when Layla curls her fingers along that spongy spot that makes you feel lightheaded.

“Damn, that’s a pretty pussy.” He drawls, crouching down behind your bent form. With your ass in the air, you already felt so exposed and now the owner of the company was getting a front row view of the most private parts of you. 

Sticky, wet noises fill the room as Layla splays her fingers deep inside your velvet channel. You bite your lip to keep your moans at bay. So overstimulated and heated, you’re not sure how much more you can take.

“Want a taste?’ Layla asks, jogging you from your stupor. 

Marc grunts in response. You look back in time to watch Layla feeding him her shiny, cream coated fingers. The debauched noise he makes while he licks and sucks her fingers clean has your heart falling into your lower half. 

You meet his lust filled gaze as he stands. Layla’s fingers leave his lips with a pop, and he palms his hard length through his dark slacks. “You gonna show me how good you are at serving your superiors?”

A nervous whimper escapes from your throat at his question.

His tongue swipes across his bottom lip, lapping at some of your fallen cream as he pulls his cock out and gives it a languid tug. You watch dumbstruck as he pumps his length, from the obscenely thick base that’s littered with dark wiry hairs to a bulbous, desert blush tip that weeps in his hand after every twist.

“Is that a yes, sweetheart?” he questions. 

A smirk lifts the corners of his mouth at your stupefied gaze. Marc raises a hand and grasps the back of your neck, moving your head in a crude up-down motion. “This is how you say, yes.” 

Another deep chuckle burrows into your brain and makes you go even more dumb.

Fire ignites in your belly and races up your body, making your face burn. Your mouth bobs open and closed like a fish, wanting to answer him but you can’t even form the simplest word. 

“She tends to go a bit brain dead when she gets overwhelmed.” Layla thankfully answers for you. 

She thumbs your cheek. “But that pretty pussy of hers makes up for it.”

“You don’t say…” Marc quips before tapping his tip on your soaked folds. Your slick drips down your inner thighs showing that you would indeed make up for your lack of communication.

He notches the thick head past your dripping opening before slowly sinking into your cunt. He doesn’t stop until he bottoms out, pressing his full length all the way and grinding the cut of his hips against your ass. 

“God damn.” Marc grits, hissing through his teeth at the way you squeeze him.

You whimper from the immense stretch. It feels like his cock is burrowing a new space inside your body. “Layla. Too much–” You gasp, having never felt so full before. “So. Big.”

She cups her hands around your face, hushing your cries. “I know, baby. I know.” 

Marc’s hips never falter. He plunges into your heat with an unyielding, merciless pace, pushing slick and cream from between your folds, making your belly twist in pleasurable pain.

His strong hands knead your fleshy hips, pulling you back on every brute shove, forcing you to take every inch he gives. “Such a good girl. Doin’ just what we say.” 

Your core clenches that much tighter knowing you’re making them happy. “You love it don’t you, pretty girl?” His heavy balls slap against your exposed clit making you mewl and writhe in the combined hold they had on you.

Sticky, sweet bliss drowns your senses. You’re a wanton mess. A plaything between two beautiful gods as they have their fun..

You whine when Marc slows his rhythm, canting his hips so his cock stays buried deep. “I thought you were one of the best.” Marc sighs with a shake of his head, his curls bouncing with the movement. “But it seems you’re not as attentive as I thought.”

Your brow furrows as you look at him over your shoulder.

“I think it’s time to show your Boss how much you appreciate her.”

Marc moves quickly, dragging you out of Layla’s arms and down onto your knees in front of her spread legs. Layla quirks a brow at him.

“What? I wanted to see how attentive she really was.” Marc says, talking about you like you weren’t speared open on his heavy cock.

Layla pulls her dress up over her legs and spreads her thighs. Her panties looked much like your own, wet, sticky, and just begging to be removed.

“Go on. Show her how much you love being on your knees for her.” Marc commands. With a snap of his hips, he jolts your bones and forces your head between Layla’s thighs. “Eat your boss’s cunt.”

Heat flames your face at his words when a familiar hand curves around your jaw. Layla pulls her panties to the side and leads you gently, well as gently as she can while you’re being plowed from behind, to her slick folds. 

She sighs as your tongue licks a long stripe from her weeping opening to her clit. You flick the tiny nub, drawing tight circles for a brief moment before sliding down her folds. You lap hungrily at her slit, freely licking into her tight hole and sliding your tongue in and out from her heat.

“There you go.” Layla coos down at you with a smile. She scratches her nails along your scalp making you purr against her clit. She grinds her cunt against your mouth, chasing her pleasure. Nothing made you happier than making Layla feel good. Your core throbs when she gasps and fucks her mound onto your tongue.

A rough, grating moan crawls from Marc’s chest as your cunt quivers and milks his length. “Such a good girl letting us use you like this.” He grits, slamming his hips harder into your ass and knocking your face steadily into Layla’s cunt. “Like you were made for it.”

Your core spasms at his words. You did love being on your knees for them. At their beck and call, wanting to be of service however they needed.

Marc lays his body along your spine, pressing his clothed chest against your bare back, and nuzzles his curved nose along your cheek. A large hand slinks around your hip and notches nimble fingers against your clit, swirling tight circles around the throbbing nub. “Wanna know all the pretty noises you make when you come.”

“Oh, they’re just the sweetest.” Layla moans, breathlessly as your lips lock around her clit. You suckle the tiny nub until 

she’s digging her fingers into your hair, writhing and gasping. 

Marc groans at the sight of his business partner unfurling with pleasure. His breath is hot in your ear and he crowds you even more, leaving no chance of escape.

“Come on, girl. Be good and come for us.” Marc commands, shifting his hips until his throbbing tip grazes that hidden spot behind your clit.

With Layla humping your face and Marc sheathing his cock further inside you with every shove, you’re pushed to the edge before you can even think. Your cream coated lips fall open with a feverish wail as your body locks tight. 

Your muscles shake uncontrollably as you careen off the edge. Your soaked core clenches like a fist, forcing Marc’s pace to stutter and drag him along with you. He lets loose a dark roar when his balls draw up and he fucks your trembling core to the brim with his thick seed.

His cock twitches between your folds, pumping you full with every last drop. “God damn, you weren’t kidding. She more than made up for going all dumb eariler.” He slowly eases from your core with a hiss and tucks his half hard length back into his slacks.

Your head is still reeling from the powerful orgasm and Marc’s compliment makes you just that much more lightheaded. Thank goodness you were already on the ground. 

“Oh you’re making such a mess.” Layla gasps when she sees the thick river of white that runs down your thighs. Your knees ache from being on the hard carpet for so long but the pain is forgotten as the pair crowds over you.

You whine as Layla and Marc drag their fingers through the hot stickiness and press them into your mouth. 

You gag heavily around the two sets of fingers, tears pricking your eyes as they cover your tongue in the combined spend. “Good girl. Clean up the mess you made.” Marc nods slowly, heavy lidded with a deep moan of satisfaction as you choke and sputter while Layla proudly smiles down at you. “Did so well for me; for us.”

She shares a curious look with Marc before turning her gaze back to you and thumbs the last bit of white into your mouth.

“Might need to borrow her again sometime soon.” Marc comments as they help you onto your feet. “You know how stressed I can get.”

Your legs are shaky, like a newborn doe, as Layla brushes down your crumpled skirt while Marc helps you back into your blouse, securely buttoning you up. 

“We’ll see about that.” Layla responds as she gathers you into her arms and sits back down on her chair, tucking your sleepy head under her chin. 

“I’ll see you ‘round the office, sweetheart.” He raises a hand and tenderly grazes your dewy temple with his knuckles. 

As he sees himself out, he winks at Layla and she smirks before he shuts the door leaving the two of you in peaceful silence. 

As you relax in Layla’s arms, burrowing yourself into her safe warmth, you notice through sleepy eyes that her monitor is still on. The email she was typing when you dropped off the paperwork lights up the screen.

𝚃𝙾: 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚌 𝚂𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛 (𝙺𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝙸𝚗𝚌)

𝚂𝚞𝚋𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝: 𝙵𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚞𝚙 - 𝚂𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚁𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚏

𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎. 𝚂𝚑𝚎'𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞.

𝙻𝚊𝚢𝚕𝚊 𝙴𝚕-𝙵𝚊𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚢

𝙲𝙵𝙾 𝙺𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝙸𝚗𝚌

*evil laughter* they were in cahoots the entire time!

feel free to scream at me -> 💌

follow @ozzieslibrary for fic notifs!

[yuurei20]

Hey there! Absolutely love all the work you do here, it's really helped me as a newer fan of Twst get a better grasp on the characters and lore, so thanks a lot!!!

I'm not sure if it's ever specified anywhere, but do we know what exactly the name "Twisted Wonderland" encompasses in-universe? Like, is it the name of the whole planet, or a continent, or some other established grouping?

I know we do have a map that shows a lot of the characters homelands, but as far as I recall, it doesn't include the Scalding Sands. Which beyond it being the homeland of Kalim and Jamil, there was also a whole in-game event there that fleshed out the environment and culture, yet do we even know where it would hypothetically be on a map?

I also remember Sam talking about the cultures of the East during the New Years event, so there is presumably more beyond the map we know, but I just don't know if it has ever been clarified? Madol/Thaumarks are also the only currency we've ever seen, which could make it similar to Euro in how a whole continent uses it, or maybe there's something else to it.

Apologies for the long ask, I just found the implications to be fascinating depending on what little info we may have on the matter!

Hello hello! Thank you for this question! ^^ And you are much too kind!! ♡

From comments like “Twisted Wonderland’s got a number of educational institutions for cultivating magicians” and “Twisted Wonderland would be forever enveloped in winter’s cold, harsh embrace,” I do believe that “Twisted Wonderland” is meant to be the name of the entire place to which the prefect has been relocated! 

There are other times, however, where this can sound odd: the entire world (is it a world?) has the same traditional event (Beanfest)? The entire world has the same kind of fire and police organizations? Halloween is one of the biggest events in the entire world? Icicle mushrooms are one of the three greatest delicacies in the entire world? 

It is not impossible, but it is curious! Is it maybe not literally the entire planet, but possibly just a hemisphere?

(But is it a planet at all? Could it possibly be a dimension? 👀 We know that the dorms exist in dimensions of their own--are those pocket dimensions inside the dimension that is Twisted Wonderland?)

Except, as you say, Kalim and Jamil’s home country is not even on the main “world” map and yet it is still considered a part of Twisted Wonderland (as far as I can tell), so we know that “Twisted Wonderland” consists of more than what is being shown to us!

We have never been shown any borders of “this is where Twisted Wonderland ends and where another place begins,” or even heard that any place besides Twisted Wonderland exists here, so with the information we have at the moment I would say that everywhere we have heard of thus far is within the boundaries of Twisted Wonderland—whatever it is that may be 👀 (Limbo?)

Also as you say Sam does manage having eastern branches of his Mystery Shop, but Sam is very mysterious 👀

We technically do not even know if he is a mage (he does not seem to have a visible magestone, unlike the rest of the staff, and being magicless would tie in well to the character upon which he was based), or anything about these Eastern shops! It does not seem like it would be out of character for Sam to have access to inter-dimensional travel and, as aforementioned, his hometown cannot be found on the map 👀

Is Sam like the prefect, moving in between Twst and the world from which the prefect came (and maybe even Japan itself, hence his "Eastern branches")? I am pretty sure that there is nothing in-game to insinuate that this is the case, but it is fun to think ^^

Also as you say, Madol/Thaumarks seem to be a universal currency! I like your comparison to Euro very much!

While things like having the same traditions/currency/events/etc. throughout an entire planet might be a little unrealistic (in this game about dragon princes and mermaids who do parkour ww), it is possible that things were simplified just for the sake of keeping it all manageable within the visual novel medium ^^

My apologies for not having any answers! I do not believe that there is any information missing from what you already know, and while it is all very vague and curious, I agree it is also fun to think about! ^^

[waywardangel-wilds]

I wrote this last night when I couldn’t sleep, will I finish it and post it on ao3? Let’s hope.

I sit with my back pressed tight against the wall. I try to hold myself together by the seams, my nails dig desperately into my skin. I thought I had become something of an expert on fear, or at the very least I thought I was familiar with it. But nothing could have prepared me for this universe shifting moment. This lack of control. I squeeze my eyes shut and dare not breathe more than I must. My heart knocks insistently into my chest. Bum, bum it says. Bum, bum, bum, bum, a reminder of this unending life.

“Katniss!” I hear Haymitch before I see him. The storage rooms door flies open, “Katniss, they’re back. Katniss!”

I blink and stare at him uncomprehendingly. He’s still shouting, his hands reaching out to grab me, but the shock is intense. I stare at my mentors’ familiar face, my eyes round and helpless, a child once more.

The child I am.

“He’s alive, Katniss, he’s alive.” Haymitch says in a slower more purposeful tone. He crouches as best as his useless knees will allow him, his hands reaching out to grasp me by the forearms. “Katniss, we did it. We got them back.”

And when I take my next breath, it feels like a car crash. The sounds of the world catch up to me and somehow, the meaning of Haymitch’s words finally enter my mind. Alive. Here.

I keep staring at Haymitch helplessly, but I scramble to my feet. I’m hyperventilating. Haymitch shakes me, but my breathing doesn’t slow. There’s no time. I push past him and nearly fall on my face, rushing down the hall.

I don’t need to ask; I know where to go. He’ll be at the hospital. He’ll be past this hall, around that corner. My body, my heart, something in me knows. It tells me where to go. Keep going, keep going. If I don’t get there quick enough, who knows. I have to get there.

“Annie!” I skid to a stop, taken aback by the absolute emotion in Finnicks’ voice. There’s so much joy, so much love.

“Finnick!” a woman replies, running to him and jumping into his arms. My skin itches, my heart burns. I’m so envious, I have to look away. I used to be held like that, I used to have that much love.

But then my heart stutters. Alive. Here. If I keep running, will the arms that I’m looking for hold me? Will I hear his voice? Will I feel his lips?

“Come on!” Haymitch takes me by the arm and yanks me in the other direction. We’re both running now, I’m surprised Haymitch can keep up. He pulls me towards a hospital room, a very busy one. There are doctors everywhere, nurses too. I shove my way past them because I know, oh god, I know it. He’s here, in this room.

“Peeta,” I gasp, and the longing is so intense. He’s awake and sitting up on his hospital bed. Regrettably, I wasn’t the first face he saw. But it doesn’t matter, nothing matters, not at all. Peeta’s eyes meet with mine and suddenly nothing else exists on this entire planet. Nothing else in this world.

“Peeta,” I repeat with a sob, my vision blurring. I rush towards him, and he sweeps his doctors aside. He’s so thin, and his face is so sharp. But he’s still my boy, the boy with the bread.

He grasps me, crushing me into his chest and whatever was left of my composure evaporates. Nothing holds the walls of emotions, of suppression after suppression, back any longer. My knees soften, and my hands claw at his back, greedily feeling him, ensuring his solidity.

Peeta’s hands are still big and heavy. They feel amazing on my back and my shoulders. I can feel him gasping against my neck, and the tickling of his breath feels like home.

“Is this real?” he whispers with his mouth pressed against my ear. “Are you here?”

“Yes,” I reassure him. “I’m here.”

“I missed you,” there’s a weight to his words, a reverence.

“Me too, a lot.” I choke and smile around my tears. There won’t ever be enough words to tell him. “So much.”

“They said you were dead, but I knew.” He confesses. “I knew.”

I nod. Yes. There’s a desperation in me borne from his complete understanding. “I knew too. I always knew.”

Peeta pulls away from me then, and I can see his face has broken into an emotional smile. He cups my jaw, and when his lips graze mine, everything is okay again. I can breathe, I’m alive.

I stretch up onto my toes, chasing after him. My arms encircle him. I never want to let go. His tears mix with mine on my cheeks, and we kiss. We kiss and we kiss, and we kiss. My tongue sweeps across his bottom lip and the metallic taste of blood fills my mouth, but we don’t stop. His fingers slip into my hair, and his touch lights me up.

His fingers tug too harshly against my hair and I reflexively pull back. He’s shut his eyes tight, his body suddenly tensed. My hands fly up to his shoulders, fluttering in search for injury.

“Peeta, are you okay?”

He doesn’t answer. To my alarm, he starts hitting the sides of his head with his firsts. “Peeta,” I repeat, pulling at his wrists, but he’s stronger than me. “Stop!”

“Katniss,” Haymitch says, taking me by the shoulder but I can shake him off easily, his heart isn’t really in it. “What do they pay ya’ll for? To stare? Help the kid!”

A nurse reaches out to Peeta, but he cowers away, like a frightened child. He folds in on himself on the ground, hiding his face behind his knees, and tugs on his own hair. I drop to my knees and crawl towards him, slapping away the nurses’ hands when she tries to reach out to him again.

“Peeta?” I ask, placing my hands on his knees. “It’s me, Katniss. Where are you? Did you go away?”

“Don’t,” He flinches away from my touch, leaving my hands hovering midair.

I look helplessly over my shoulder to Haymitch, but he looks just as lost as I am. I look back at Peeta, “I—”

A Doctor kneels beside me. She puts her hand on my shoulder, and I fall silent. “Peeta, I’m Dr. Amaltha, I work here at the hospital in District Thirteen. Your friends and I have been waiting a long time to see you. You’re safe. Would it be okay if I touched your knee?”

Peeta stills, a single blue eye peaking through his shaggy hair, “No touching.”

“That’s okay, we’re just a little worried about you, is all.” The Doctor offers him a smile. “Are you in any pain?”

“I’m fine,” he says curtly but reconsiders. “I can manage.”

“I know you can, but if you’re in any pain I can patch you up and you’ll be all better.” She inches ever so slowly closer to him. “Wouldn’t it be nice to go home with Katniss?”

“Home?” he asks.

“That’s right,” she reassures. “Once we check you for injuries, you can go with your friends.”

“No more hospital?”

“None.”

He slowly raises his head. He eyes the doctor uneasily for a moment before moving his gaze towards me. I try to rearrange my features into something less worried but I’m sure I fail. His eyes return to the doctor, “alright.”

She crawls closer to him still and Peeta bumps his head against the wall trying to get away from her. She smiles and he grimaces in return, but he allows her to check his pulse anyway.

“That’s a little fast.” The doctor comments, “Take a few deep breaths for me?”

Peeta complies. After some more goading from Dr. Amaltha he stands and allows her to check him for broken bones. He lets them take his blood pressure, and his shine lights in his eyes with no issues. He puts up a bit of a fuss over the blood work, so they let it go for now, asking instead if he’d let them take an x-ray just to be sure about his bones.

“No machines,” Peeta says insistently.

[nishnormp]

thinking way too hard about things that probably do not need this much thought

In lieu of tfc merc brainrot, I have decided to do some historical research and character workshopping to shape out the details of everything needed in ficwriting. I have nothing else to post (my art is not going well) so I might as well scream about this

P1: TF2 alternate history bullshit

Abraham Lincoln inventing rocket jumping before the existence of stairs, the entire thing with Australium, so on. Despite TFC having modern kevlar (as opposed to looney toons weapons, but a bit about that later) and a more serious/gritty tone, the setting is still within the TF2 universe; which means having a weird fusion of irl history and vaguely reasonable fantasy absurdities.

To clarify, I am not a bona fide history nut who knows absolutely everything (ffs my own country's history doesn't even play much in western incidents). I've just been doing research thru online articles, videos, and talking to other ppl who know more than me, so my brain can lack a bit for certain things; do correct me if I get anything wrong.

By the 1850s (estimation) Australia became a tech giant due to discovering Australium, making insane progress in basically every field (and also making their population very jacked). Newfound inventions also require raw resources, and this page confirms that australians pick their leader mostly based on pure strength, which begs the question; are they still connected to Britain? Would there still be a benefit for them to be linked to Britian the way they are?

There are many cases where nations plunder other nations just for natural resources; Britian is one particularly infamous force with many colonies, which makes me wonder if Australia ever resorted to snatching them just to afford all the material components that their tech requires. Australia was part of the British Empire up until 1901 irl (not too far from 1890), but the question about resources and sovereignty(even if symbolic) still remain (Britain likely wouldn't like a territory growing at terrifying and eventually unmanageable rates, and at that rate I doubt Australia would settle for middling trade margins)

(Well, apparently Saxton owns England. But that was when he discovered the internet)

There's also the ensemble of first gen mercs. RED and BLU recruit progressively less important mercs as time goes on, starting from important historical/media figures, to modern militant professional-lookin dudes, and finally to the current crop of crackheaded TF2 mercs we know and love. The Original mercs I mostly want to focus on are Abraham Lincoln and John Henry.

I'm not exactly sure if John Henry is even a real person, but he was a symbol for labor movements and the civil rights movement; the fact that he IS a real person in TF2 lore is p vital methinks, especially since him and Lincoln seem to be on the same team. Mercs are paid a lot, even the "bottom of the barrel" tf2 ones: scout has his merch collection to show for it, medic has his exotic animal parts, heavy has his gun ammo (and also casually gave a child 7k dollars), etc; could John Henry have spearheaded civil rights movements not just in America but also other territories (like africa) with the bread and merits he got for the job? Does he have a legacy with rouge merc groups (armed unions?) that fight against imperialism? Maybe even effect/radicalize Lincoln about some things??? Unethical business practices still persist even in Saxton's era (hell, he's an example) but maybe the (hypothetical) challenges to Britain's grasp on its colonies and evolution of munitions would give the people an edge.

I have no idea how a drastically colony-less Britain would affect the timeline of WW1 (esp in less popular side-wars like in South Africa where Britain was very much involved, which may be problematic since my interp of cmedic is FROM there but anyways) (btw they only won that bc they out-attritioned Germany, but by that point maybe the dutch or the americans would take over), but surprisingly enough WW2 ends at around the same time it does irl, despite my initial thought that a roided-out Allied Australia would be more than capable of turning the Axis Powers into a skidmark. The likely explanation for that is that the finer details were just not important for the tf2 comics that took place AFTER (fair enough), but as someone planning to write the 1930s mercs . Pain . My working explanation is that seemingly unaligned private contractors can get ahold of weapons easier than Certain governments, which makes mercs more popular than national soldiers for carrying out certain missions (plausible employer deniability baybeeee).

P2: Conflicting class meta - CHeavy edition

Onto something less heavy, another part of ficwriting is figuring out how characters are...characterized. The TFC mercs dont have much canonical info (I've already turned two of them into straight up ocs because I am NOT going to write p3dos from start to finish of a longfic) so I settle for looking at other things, like gameplay and ingame roles.

The first I focused on was cheavy, the leader of the group. Grouchy, but a surprisingly tolerant team player.

This IS reused from a previous post (im lazy) but the first bullet basically says "otherwise, offensive heavies are frequently looked down on and the power of the other team's defense will have you dead in no time". Gameplay-wise, CHeavy is considered the simplest class and the easiest one to master; most tfc gamers think its a common noob pick. His total health is pretty good, he occupies a big space so he can block narrow paths, and the way he attacks is simple; but he's slow even when b-hopping (grenades cant boost him either) so he can be outrun/picked apart by other classes, which really shows in tfc's most popular game format: capture the flag.

I've seen about a handful video of tfc gameplay that WASN'T ctf (or the slightly diff gamemode with a defense system), and even if the 4th bullet point is right, those two classes are usually doing more important things during ctf. My main point is that despite being the leader, he isn't the type of class to lead the charge.

The most reasonable thing I can think of is that he's just . Really good at strategy and can keep track of his team while reliably holding down a position. That, and his superior bulk makes him shine more outside of the gravel pits. Whatever it is, it does make more sense to me now that I revisit the comic panels where he is VERY spiteful that his teammates got killed (rather than calling them weak, they fr matter to him bc otherwise, he isn't getting shit done)

(Ik the reason hes the boss is bc big scary dude and karmic ass-handing via other heavy who actually respects his doctor but shh the fic demands reasons)

P3: Conflicting class meta - Cmedic edition

The contradiction I can immediately clock is the fact that cmedic never gets mentioned despite his omnipresence in his original game. Most hc's I've seen interpret him as the exact opposite of the current medic, which is a dedicated doctor who also happens to be a sweetheart (with very rare exceptions), but may I propose the theory that all mannco medic mercs are bastards? I'm 99% sure that the original medic was sigmund freud. TF2 medic is just a menace. Post WW1 most moral and noble medics would bust their asses at hospitals rather than sign up to a contract tying them down to just healing 8 other people and killing other people over and over, but that's just my hc (we're all making shit up, might as well have fun with it).

The most common citing for cmed's hidden menace energy is his virus weaponry, but I think his ingame role also shows it pretty well. Practically taking the scout's niche and making it less punishing by having straight upgrades of his two weapons, giving healing utility AND also being able to sniff out spies like a cscout (he can't diffuse bombs or trail caltrops, but he's already powerful as is). Imagine being cscout, having to compete for flag capture points with this guy who practically has everything you have but better (instead of leaving behind super visible spikes he has a college degree). This isn't even like the modern sniper vs spy debate where it can still be debated that spy has a unique niche with his mindgames, cmedic just straight up took copied his homework, 98% percent matching on the plagiarism bot.

Cscout and cmedic beef is very likely, but if cscout is a literal god at what he does then there won't be much issue, since the best cscout is ultimately better at flagrunning than cmedic. Its likely that cscout is simply human tho, so that's some drama that can happen.

Funnily enough the tfc class that gets the most weight and hate on its shoulders is sniper. This is because servers have a limit on how many snipers can join, and if a shitty sniper took up the slots, the rest of the team would be pretty pissed. Meanwhile, a competent sniper is the bane of every player's existence; a missed shot can still slow someone down until a medic cures them.

P4: cmedic backstory building hell - barely organized nonsense

Last one I swear. My drawings of cmedic explicitly portray him as a person of color- more specifically a cape malay, from the cape territory in South Africa; he even curses in malay in one of the posts. Ig I wanted the cast to be more diverse, but it did make his backstory somewhat harder to write.

Mann co is situated in New Mexico, far from SA. How and why did he get all the way there? With the fanon worldbuilding I set, what is stopping him from simply joining a nearer merc group? Probably heard of it through the grapevine, and travelled for fat stacks; wouldn't be uncommon for doctors (or mercs) to be highly motivated due to money. I wondered of what would set him apart from all the other hypothetical medic applicants that probably graduated from upstanding colleges like harvard, then I recall all those common hcs.

1)Most applicants assumed that the job would consist of primarily healing, without considering how bloodthirsty their company would be, and/or 2)the BLU team has been getting genuine medics and chewing them up like gum (and spitting them out utterly mangled, I suppose). There's also the possibility that some margin of these medics actually had some weapon training, but at that point a lot of time has been spent (also some conflicting motives there, I can't imagine the perks that a deadly merc job has over a hospital job unless the guy got a kick out of it).

My next idea was to make him a ww1 vet on the side of the British (australian? american?) colonies of SA, having joined midway after finishing his education. However this would clock his age during the current 1970s timeline to be around 81, pretty old; most of the tfc mercs would be 70s max around that time. Cmedic is visually the youngest of the mercs too, you can compare his smooth eyes to the more sunken cspy's eyes and there is a notable difference. This is really just an issue of me being on the fence about fully oc-fying him (a friend of him suggested making him a vampire, I am almost tempted to make it so).

In the case that particular hurdle is overcome, there are more details I have to iron out. I figured that his motives either come from wanting to financially help out his family after the war's sheer devastation, or just . a general resentment for the way things unfolded, and he swapped to merc work in the states to get properly paid for his work and (attempt to) fill the void in his soul. Maybe a mix of the two. An outlier in his community for being a godless man and having very material and tangible masters (science and money), he abandons the lofty ideals of nationalism and sides himself with the highest bidder in the private market. Also developed an insane immune system (trenches and exposure are no joke).

(Certain classes have shared characteristics across gens, like the demos' deranged smiles and engies' wholesome vibes. With sigmund freud, tf2 medic as the archetypal mad doctor, and tfc medic as the archetypal capitalist doctor, there are now three gens of doctors with dubious machinations.)

He'd probably be a great medic, respecting merc code and all (funfact tf2 medic mentions tfc demo by name, implying that he knows his real name and putting a dent in my theory that being on a first-name basis is a big deal actually , my countertheory to that is that grey mann gave him the team's files and tf2 medic wants to spite them). Cmedic also reverse-engineered the medkit and made a new version for non-gravel war missions, since the usual has several hard drugs (heals to full instantly and gives adrenaline boost, sounds sus especially if you read jarate's side effects) since he ended up somewhat caring about his pack of rabid animals

[tanith-rhea]

Could I request Lucifer x champion reader?

Can be sfw or nsfw👀, little bit of hurt/comfort, missunderstandings, them being reunited and maybe love confessions?

Much like Lucifer R used to an angel, knowing Lucifer back then aswell, R being considered a Golden child but also a trouble maker because they craved freedom, R remained and mourned when Lucifer fell but was prevented from following after them by their parents, R becoming kinda like a replacement for Samael in heaven since they were both the best and favorites despite their trouble making nature. Eventually R rebels against heaven and chose to leave and revisit their “best friend” you can chose how it continues and ends.

Your Feelings True

Oookay so that was a bit of a rollercoaster. I loved your request and as soon as I read it I had two different plots in my mind. Since I liked both so much, I thought why not do both! So we have the same premise but with two endings: one Happy with a hint of corruption and one Angsty with cruel Lucifer and sad feels. I hope you enjoy it! Also, it is sfw, but I liked the happy ending very much and will probably do a small continuation for it especially because I want LUCIFER SMUT. Sorry, Gwen's Lucifer just does things to me...

Anyway... enjoy!

You remembered what had brought you there, in front of the Ruler of Hell. How could you forget? Their beautiful face could never fade from your memories, no matter how many millennia passed. Their laughter whenever you toyed with your siblings’ creations, how delighted they looked when the others discovered your shenanigans. You could never get rid of the feeling they blossomed in your celestial, immaterial and hypothetical heart. Angels were made of something else, not flesh and bones, certainly not organs, but your chest still hurt as if something inside it clenched every time you thought of your best friend; the one who got away.

“Anael?” their voice was still soft, but more calculative than when last you spoke, “I thought my demons had it wrong when they claimed seeing an angel fall to our doorstep.”

You had rebelled. The Silver City didn’t have anything for you anymore. Since you were forced to battle on opposing sides with the monarch in front of you, Heaven lost its appeal, it also lost its righteousness to you. How could it be right to fight the ones you loved? Forget ineffability, it simply made no sense.

“I came for you, Samael-”

Their laughter interrupted you. You could not fail to notice the stark difference from the ones you were used to hear when you were young, just two mischievous archangels fooling around in creation, crafting the most breathtaking stars and cosmical explosions to fill the universe with beauty.

“I haven’t been called that for a long time,” if you didn’t know them your entire existence, maybe you wouldn’t have noticed the sliver of disappointment behind their practised cordial façade, but you did.

“Would you prefer I called you Lightbringer? Morning Star?” you smiled tenderly at them “Lucifer?”

Nothing changed much on their face. It saddened you that the being you loved, once full of mirth, seemed now a sealed vault, keeping everything away from view. You could not look at them without sorrow.

“Lucifer, I came here for you. I rebelled against our creator like I should have done all these years ago, to be with you,” you reach for their hand, and they let you take it.

“I seem to remember you cowering and betraying me,” they caress your hand in theirs, smiling faintly to themselves, for which reason you could not tell “You knew I would be cast here, didn’t you?”

“I overheard God and Gabriel talking of your rebellion. God certainly knew I was aware of your fate but didn’t seek me to explain. I knew you would be cast to the farthest place from Heaven, but I didn’t know of the existence of Hell, I only thought we would be so far away that no light would ever kiss our skin again, and I could not let you do that to yourself.”

Their grasp on your hand loosened, and they brought both their hands to your face, caressing your cheeks free of the few tears staining them. They were so gentle, their face so compassionate that you were overcome by your feelings, covering their hands with yours and looking deep into their eyes.

“I love you, Lucifer. I could not live a second more away from your presence. The Silver City in all its glory pales in comparison to my feelings for you.”

At that moment, Lucifer closed the space between your faces, coming down to meet you in the middle. They kissed you feverously, ferociously, as if their life depended on it, and you responded with just as much. You felt their fingers holding your head strongly, if you were a different being you might have felt searing pain from the sheer force they held you with, the desperation in them almost too much, too overwhelming.

Suddenly you screamed, parting from them in a panicked thrashing. Your wings were burning.

Happy Ending

Immediately, Lucifer held up their hands, deep sorrow and resentment twisting their face. They stepped close to you while you screamed and thrashed like a wounded animal, eyes wide with no understanding of what was happening and why your feathers had simply combusted.

“Shh, calm down, my love,” they walked carefully in your direction “It will end soon, I’m afraid I can’t make it stop but let me help you with the pain.”

The fire was slowly subsiding, in their place blackened leathery wings like a bat’s were becoming visible. The smell of burnt flesh was not uncommon in Hell, but somehow you could tell the smell of your own body from the others.

You fell to the ground, all strength was gone from you, and Lucifer encircled you with their wings, pulling you to their lap in a protective bubble. Their touch was oddly calming and you felt yourself give in to their soft words.

“I must admit I thought you would have burned in your fall. Perhaps Heaven is a bit more vindictive than we give it credit for.”

You could not believe they would do this to you. You saw it happening to Lucifer, but somehow you thought it would be different now, you thought your wings would remain dove-white and gentle. It appeared you were wrong.

“Come, I’ll take care of you,” they lifted you in their arms, taking you to what you could assume was their chambers “I will make you the strongest ruler to ever exist. No real shall be unaware of your power, fierceness, and wisdom. You will rule by my side, and we will bring those bastards to dust.”

As they whispered in your years, you felt a slow smile twisting your lips. Maybe it was the fall, maybe you resented The Presence since the first rebellion, but the thought of burning it all to the ground sent you into a satisfied sleep, in your dreams, you saw Hell the only remaining realm in the universe.

Angsty Ending

“Do you think I believe for a second that you chose to come to me? To abdicate the cold comfort of the Silver City for your supposed ‘affection’ for me?” their voice was cold and cruel, their smile just as kind and comforting as before. You could not understand how such bitterness could be hidden by so perfect of a mask.

When your guard were down, Lucifer manipulated the flames in the throne room to burn you, making your wings as black as theirs.

“Bitterness has consumed everything good in you, Samael, you’re a shadow of who you were, you’re not free, you are a slave to your resentment!” you shouted, infuriated. The rage building in your body enough to power a hundred smites. However, you had just fallen, your wings were just burned, and even with the power for a very decent battle against Lucifer, you lacked the strength to wield it.

“Mazikeen, please escort our guest to their cell. Make sure it’s the right one, where they’ll be able to contemplate what a foolish choice it was to betray me,” they said, gesturing with their hand to summon the archdemon.

You didn’t have a way of escape, Lucifer would make sure you were securely held in their claws, so you simply accompanied the creature to your new abode, a windowless cell of hot obsidian. It was just your luck you discovered that now you could burn.

After hours of introspection, sitting in your hellishly warm and uncomfortable cell, you realize why Samael were entitled “Prince of Lies”. Because in the throne room, when you looked into their eyes, you could swear on your life and the life of all living beings that they loved you just as much as you did them. It appeared you were wrong.

[dearmizumi]

Okay so I was discussing this with one of my friends earlier and I wanna ask... Have any of y'all like— Actually ACTUALLY wondered how these "Revert AU's” would work? Specifically with the Murder Time Trio n all...

"What's a Revert AU? What's it like?" Well if you ask me, I sorta assume it's when the AT/AU returns back to normal (or at least, the closest it can get to regular Undertale), where the bad things that made that specific universe how it is gets fixed due to specific scenarios or events that happened.

I kinda wanna ramble about a Something New Revert timeline rn but I'll yap a bit first hbsjsbdns

If we follow the canon, then realistically there is no way in hell a Revert AU would be possible for Horrortale UNLESS some big miracle happens. There would need to be a very specific line of fortunate events seeing as— well... How messed up everything is.

Dusttale on the other hand would be a lot more possible if we assume the player finally decides to give up. It would be a long process, but it's honestly possible. Murder would've already fallen into the routine of killing everyone before the player catches up, but imagine... Waiting in the corridor or hiding somewhere so that you can ambush the player, but they just— never arrive. And when you try to check where they are, they're simply at the beginning of the game, laying there, doing nothing. Yeah, sure, Murds would definitely kill them the first few times this happens but wouldn't he at least be a little bit intrigued by this change of behavior?

OKAY UHM MOVING ON... I'll rant about a Revert Dusttale au later but what about Something New? What about Killer? How would that work? How would Killer handle it? Well, lemme tell you this pal. I genuinely do believe that this is possible.

If we follow the canon events of the timeline, then I'm sure you'll know that by the end of it, Killer would get interrupted and kidnapped by Nightmare either way whether he'd like it or not, and even if Nm didn't interrupt, then Killer would've already deleted himself from his AT longgggg ago. BUT, what about that timeline where Color saves Killer, taking him away from Nm's grasp? The Revert timeline could always start from there.

Imagine being Killer's Papyrus, still searching for your brother for probably years ever since he disappeared on the day he says goodbye? Imagine finding him again, returned but different, in a way. But you couldn't care less. He's still alive even after all these years and you genuinely couldn't care about finding out where'd he'd been this entire time that you can't help but embrace him in your arms, choked sobs escaping from the both of you as you ignored the stares and gazes from everyone around you. And honestly, none of them probably cared because they're equally as happy as you are. "Sans" was finally back.

Color likely helped (and accompanied) Killer to return to his timeline, despite his hesitation.

Killer would definitely have a difficult time adapting to this new life. And oh boy— Papyrus couldn't be more concerned for him ESPECIALLY with all the trauma he's endured for all these years😭

Imagine Papyrus getting him a bottle of ketchup, maybe even multiple of them as a treat for Killer because he thinks he deserves it, only for Killer to just... Back away, visibly trembling from just the sight of the bottle alone. Imagine cooking him spaghetti, wanting to show how much you've improved your cooking skills and trying to get your brother to at least eat something, only for him to just stare at it, breathing heavily as his entire body trembles from even just the smell. He looked like he was about to puke, and ultimately you decided to go with something simple for him instead, like a bowl of warm soup.

Imagine having to feed him yourself because his fingers won't stop shaking every time he picks up the spoon. You listened as he kept mumbling apologies when you grabbed a handkerchief to wipe the spilled contents. You notice how he seems to be out of touch with reality when you bring up the spoon towards his mouth, having to wait a second or two before he finally accepts the food.

Imagine having to bring your brother to your bedroom instead of his because he kept refusing to go to his own, to the point where he was begging not to. And when you do let him sleep in your bed with you, you keep waking up due to him having nightmares or having a breakdown in the middle of the night. But you don't mind comforting him, sitting with him as you let him cry on your chest, as long as you're able to help him in some way.

And oh boy, I haven't even started on how the others would react to Killer.

Like how Grillby would notice how Killer rarely ever visits. And even if he did, he would either not eat at all or order literally anything BUT his usual. Undyne, Alphys and the other would literally notice how Killer became extremely clingy to Papyrus, rarely ever seeing them separated (which is pretty understandable considering how long they haven't seen each other for...). Imagine how off putting it is going for an entire day without hearing a pun, and whenever he finally does make one, you can't help but feel a little glad.

Color definitely visits Killer on a daily basis to check on him and accompany him for a while. The others would definitely question how they knew each other or where Color came from, and the two would just brush it off like it always has been like that. Although they definitely don't mind letting Color stay for a bit since he and Killer are close. (And because he's the closest to a therapist that they can afford right now)

How would they react to the existence of Killer's other stages though? And how would the underground change ever since Killer's absence?

Will be discussed next time I feel like ranting!! Cya later folks because I am thirsty and need to eat

[buckyownsmylife]

Crash & Burn - Chapter 1

The one where Bucky is your father best friend, and the man you want to take your virginity.

Bucky is losing everything: his wife, his business, his house. And when his best friend is too busy to offer him the support he needs, you offer him your ear and shoulder. He wouldn't find it too bad that getting closer to you made him see you with new eyes, if it wasn't for the one thing you asked in return: you want him to be the first man to ever fuck you.

For general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Bucky’s coming over tonight.” Those words were welcomed with a nod from me, right before I left for my classes. Living with my father after I’d already graduated wasn’t what I had planned for my life, but if I wanted to succeed as a university professor I needed to get a lot more degrees then my friends had pursued and it was just cheaper to stay at home then to add rent to the already overwhelming pile of student debt I’d have to face eventually.

So I wasn’t surprised when I got home that evening and he was there. James Barnes. The bane of my existence.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He smiled when he saw me, but it didn’t reach his eyes. It made me frown. Bucky was nothing short of the most charming man on the planet - it was the reason why it was so hard for me to be around him. I’d harbored a crush on the guy for as long as I could remember, but of course, it was nothing more than a silly, childhood crush, kept alive by my realization that my father’s best friend was actually incredibly hot.

But he was also twenty years my senior. And married. So I knew nothing would ever come out of it and tried to swallow down as much of the awkwardness that this lust entailed as possible.

“Hey, Buck!” Dropping my bag by the door, I made my way towards him, taking notice of his hunched shoulders and how his eyes had fallen to the glass of scotch he played with on his hand.

I had a hunch it wasn’t his first one.

“What’s going on?” It took him a while to answer. It almost seemed like he’d forgotten I was even there, and when the silence stretched for too long he snapped his head up, startled.

“Oh, your father had to help Maggie, her car broke down in the middle of the road,” he explained, as if that wasn’t the routine we did every single time he came around. “He should be back any minute now.”

My father’s new girlfriend was adorable, if not slightly lost without him. She’d taken over his entire life ever since the relationship started, but not in an overwhelming, suffocating way.

After my mother’s death, it took so long for my father to decide to get back on the dating world again, it was very clear taking care of someone new - someone who cared for him just as much - was exactly what he needed. Which is why I was used to him and Maggie spending every moment together, and Bucky and I both knew there was a good chance he wouldn’t come back home that evening.

Taking a seat next to him, I grasped his wrist, silently asking him to focus on me. He wasn’t surprised by my touch - we’d always been comfortable with each other - and so I took advantage of that to rub circles against his pulse.

“Okay,” I acknowledged in a soft voice. “And what’s going on with you?” He exhaled heavily at my question. I could see he wasn’t expecting it, wasn’t expecting me to care. But I did. Of course I did.

“I’m getting a divorce.” My eyes widened, the surprise impossible for me to hide. I was about to apologize for my shock when he ran a hand through his hair and kept going, “It’s not that it ended, I think it’s pretty obvious I didn’t care much for being married.”

Once again, my body failed me, my snort escaping me before I was able to swallow it down. “Oh my God!” My hands flew up to cover my mouth. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude-”

But Bucky was already laughing, shaking his head as the corners of his eyes crinkled in amusement. “I like that you’re so honest.” That had me biting my lower lip, avoiding his eyes as embarrassment got the best of me, but a smile made its way to my face anyway.

He couldn’t really blame me, though. If there was one thing anyone who spent time with Bucky knew, it’s that he wasn’t completely sold on the idea of being married. He barely spoke of his wife and for all the time I’d known him - almost all of my life - I think I saw the woman… What? Once?

Yeah, once. I’d even asked him about it one time.

*“Why are you married, Bucky?” The question fell from my lips as I witnessed him having the time of his life, dancing at yet another wedding we’d attended together and he had attended solo.

He sighed before finally answering me. “My father wanted me to,” he explained. “It was one of the conditions he had for me to inherit his company. And I was… You have to understand this, I was a different man back then.” He lowered his head, shaking it as if he felt ashamed of his past. “I didn’t think I was good enough to do anything. Hell, I *knew I wasn’t capable of doing anything by my own.”

His voice was thick as he admonished himself. “I thought taking care of his business was the only thing I could do and I wasn’t about to screw it up for something as silly as a contract. Because that’s all there is to it in the end, isn’t it?” He chuckled, a bitter, sad sound. “Marriage is a contract between two partners who expect to get *something out of it. And that’s all.”*

I still remembered that day so clearly. He went on to explain that his father had been the one to choose the woman he should marry. Bucky had actually gone on a few dates with the girl before the wedding, but it was very clearly something done for the sake of making the relationship as easily digestible to high society as possible - neither of them intended to pull out, too excited about their own prospects after the marriage. Bucky, with his father’s company, her, with all of the money she’d be able to enjoy once she became Mrs. Barnes.

Bucky’s P.O.V.

“If you’re not sad about the divorce, then why do you look like a kicked puppy dog?” She asked, leaning closer to me and raising my head with her knuckle so I would meet her eyes. It was hard not to smile at how adorable she was, her eagerness to help me quite obvious and heartwarming, given the situation I was in.

“It’s the reason for it that’s killing me,” I admitted, sighing. “I- I made a risky move and the company’s going down because of it.” My voice faltered, so I tried to clear my throat, taking up the opportunity to rub my eyes with the palms of my hands.

This felt good, despite everything. Talking to her about it took the weight off my shoulders, and I knew it would be a bit weird to someone from the outside. She was so young, almost half my age, not to mention my best friend’s daughter.

But if there was anything I’d learn about her these last few years, it was that she was incredibly mature for her age: wise beyond her ears, and an incredible listener. Even after the most tiring days at work, whenever I came over to her father’s house to watch a game or just distract myself before I was forced to go to that cold home I called my own, she never failed to cheer me up.

So was it wrong that I’d started to see her more like a friend than just a kid? I really couldn’t feel guilty about it, especially with him being so absent as of lately. Ever since he started dating this new chick, it was like he was never home, and never available to drink a beer or do anything, really.

And I got it. Of course, I got it. His kid might be back from college, but she’d been independent and grown-up long enough for him to finally start dating again, and it was more than time for him to take advantage of it.

It just brought me more awareness of my own loneliness.

“Okay,” she got my attention again by placing her hand over my wrist, gently clasping it. “Walk me through what happened.” And so I told her everything. How I had decided that now that I’d achieved some success by keeping my father’s company on its feet, I thought it was time to venture into something new, something I could be proud of. But it had turned out to be a dumb, terrible move.

“I grew too confident in myself,” I sighed. “I forgot I have absolutely no knowledge of the business world. I screwed up. And now I may lose everything.” I forced myself to look her in the eye, only to find her perfectly poised, patiently waiting for me to reach the end of my story.

“Including her,” I finished, knowing she didn’t understand what the business failure had to do with my divorce until now. Understanding made her eyes grow wide, her mouth falling open as I shrugged.

“Like I said, I don’t necessarily care about the marriage - or about her, actually. It’s just that her announcement felt like a confirmation.” And that’s when I averted my gaze, unable to watch if her emotions would mirror the ones I was expecting to find - the ones I was nurturing towards myself.

“I’m a failure. And now that I might have no money, no one will want to be around me anymore.” It was silent for a little while, until she disturbed my self-loathing with the most unexpected of sentences.

“Now, that’s just stupid.” Shock had my mouth falling open, head snapping up to see her. “C’mon, you’re one of the most intelligent men I’ve ever met. And, you know… you’re not exactly bad on the eyes. In fact, I think you could have a modeling career if you truly decide to give up on this business thing.”

I frowned, confused about where she was going with this, even though her recognition of my physical attractiveness did feel weirdly good. I knew I wasn’t awful by any standard, but to know that in my late thirties I was still considered interesting by someone in their twenties…

It did help with my bruised ego. At least the tiniest bit.

“But more importantly…” She caught my attention yet again, shaking my arm a little. “You know we’re here for you. Dad and I. We’ll always be.” And that’s when I understood what she meant, a smile slowly growing in my face, mirroring the one she offered me, as gratitude flooded my chest.

“Well, perhaps me more than him… He’s been awfully busy with Maggie, I’m sure you know that,” she added as an afterthought, shaking her head. “Doesn’t matter,  you got me. Now, do you want a hug?”

I was once again taken by surprise. I knew she was perceptive - she’d always been intelligent - but I’d only recently had the pleasure of being on the receiving end of her wise-beyond-her-years advice and comforting hugs.

It’s funny to think that the best friend I’d ever had was someone who had only been born for half of my life.

“Yes, please.” The grin that she opened up had no reason to be as adorable as it was, but I couldn’t complain about it. She threw herself on me and I huffed at the impact, laughing at how easily she could make me forget about my own terrible thoughts with just a little bit of empathy.

I lost track of time as we held each other. Rubbing her back, I inhaled deeply to calm myself down because the smell of her shampoo weirdly helped me. I would have felt creepier about it if she didn’t have her own face buried against my neck, her breath tickling me every time she sighed.

“So, would you like to eat something?” She asked once we parted, and I had to rub my hands on my jeans because they were sweaty for reasons beyond my comprehension. My heart was beating faster and I would have thought I was about to have an anxiety attack if I didn’t feel so calm.

“Oh, no,” I rushed to say, getting up from the stool and looking for my keys. “Your father probably isn’t getting home tonight, there’s no reason for me to take any more of your time.” But still, as I said it, I stopped by the threshold, fumbling with my keys, not wanting to be alone right now but not knowing how to say it.

“You said it yourself, he’s not coming home tonight and I don’t know about you, but I could use some company.” A wink followed her words as she made her way to the kitchen, with me trailing closely behind. Just like that, all nervousness was gone - I didn’t have to leave, at least, not straight away.

“Say, are you keeping the house?” The question came out of nowhere, as she was stirring the sauce of the pasta we decided to cook. I cleared my throat before speaking, trying to buy myself some time because I wasn’t really looking forward to admitting this.

“No.” It was final. “I don’t want it anymore. She can have it.” She nodded, eyes focused on her task until she seemed to process what I had said.

“So where will you be staying?” I just shrugged, running a hand through my hair.

“A hotel. I think. Didn’t really think this far.” But now it was all I could think about. After years of sharing my space with someone, even if it was someone I didn’t particularly talk to or cared for, I wasn’t looking forward to spending all of my days alone, especially with all of the shit that was running through my head.

“Fuck, no!” She surprised me by interjecting, and at my wide eyes, hers widened too, a hand rushing to cover her mouth. “Shit, I’m sorry.” And then we both burst into laughter, unable to contain it at her inability to restrain her language.

“You know what?” She questioned, a determined look on her face, now. “Fuck this shit. I’m a grown-ass woman and I feel like I’ve earned the right to say a few bad words. Even if it is in front of my father’s best friend.”

My heart picked up its beat at her following wink, my mouth running dry at the combination of the gesture and what she was saying, even though I couldn’t pinpoint why precisely. I didn’t have the time to focus on it either, because she continued, “What I wanted to say was - there’s no way you’re staying in a hotel room, with everything you’re going through! We have a guest bedroom, you’re gonna stay here with us.”

A firm hand clasped my shoulder and I bit the inside of my cheek to contain my smile from becoming a full-blown grin. “You shouldn’t be alone right now.” There was so much emotion in her eyes, I didn’t know what to say. So I just nodded, hoping it would be enough, and apparently, it was. Her body fit right against mine as she held me against her chest, breathing me in once more.

“I’m sorry it had to be this way,” she went on to say, “but I’m confident this means great things for your future. Promise me you’ll try to see the good in it and I promise I’ll help you with that.”

My mouth ran dry, making it hard for me to speak, even though I tried to clear my throat. Finally, following a nod, the words fell out of me. “I promise.”

I had no way of knowing that was the start of a whole new life.

[kaaaaaaarf]

20 asks for fic writers

Thank you for tagging me, @fruityindividual, @lynxindisguise, @butcherbacterium & @spindrifters <333

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

14

2. what's your total ao3 word count?

56,757

3. What fandoms do you write for?

HP Marauders.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

The Killing Time (unwillingly mine) aka murder husbands

Now I'm Spreading Your Legs (with mine in between) aka the original hatefuck

soft like silk chiffon aka silk slip Remus

back when we were dinosaurs aka museum

Rolling In The Deep aka divorced sopping wet wolfstar

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes, of course!! I love getting comments, they sustain me. I need them to live.

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

Oh, hmm. I try to give all my fics a somewhat happy ending. I guess my blood is singing with your voice, which is my Midsommar au...I think you can guess how that ends.

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

I think that museum will probably win this once it's finished, but for now I would say I Knew Your Love Before I Knew Your Name and You Grew Tall (I Stayed The Same).

8. Do you get hate on fics?

So far no. I have received some weird feedback before, but nothing hateful.

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

hahaha Listen. When I started writing fic I was like "I will never write smut, it's too hard to do it right." and then the first fic I published was my original hatefuck fic. 🤷 In fact, I think I'm best known for my Hatefuck Extended Universe series.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I have not, I don't really think it's for me.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of. Like Lynx said, I think there are a lot of themes and motifs that float around the fandom so inevitably you're going to find something that is similar to yours. I have had people reach out and ask if they can write something inspired by my fic or like, with a similar theme (murder husbands) and I really appreciated the asking.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not yet! I don't know how I feel about it...there's no way for me to ensure that they have kept the story the same, ya know? I guess it would be a case by case basis.

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

B, Kels and I started a sort of Miami Vice AU, but it sort of fell to the side. It was fun to collaborate, but we collaborate on every fic we write anyways, so.

In general, I don't think I'm the right person to co-write with because my muse is so fickle and comes and goes. I wouldn't want to let anyone down.

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

Wolfstar at the moment! I will always be an everlark shipper though.

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

I have had a wolfstar girldads au sitting in my notes app forever and I would love to write it, but the muse never sticks around for long. I also have a soulmate au that I started but will likely never finish. I think my take is unique, but I've just never been able to figure out how I could make it work.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Oh, I guess I have a really good grasp on the characters I'm trying to write, and I think I'm also good at humour. Also if you need a flowery metaphor, I'm your girl.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

World building. I'm just incredibly lazy and not that imaginative. I also have terrible grammar. I use em-dashes to hide that fact that I have no idea how to correctly use a semi-colon.

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

I mean I would do it, but only if I had a friend who could proof-read for me. The last thing I want to do is write something in another language that takes a native speaker out of the fic entirely.

The title of my fic In ár gCroíthe go deo is Irish, but it's also a song title from Fontaines DC so I didn't have to worry about that so much.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

This one! Marauders. I've only been writing since April.

20. Favourite fic you've written?

The ones I'm most proud of are The Killing Time (unwillingly mine) and back when we were dinosaurs.

no pressure tagging: @kaleidoscopexsighs, @grimjobs, @vajazzly, @crushofdoves, @greenvlvetcouch, @sommerregenjuniluft, @cancerravenclaw, @facewithoutheart, @sheisraging , @achilleslikespeas, @hihimissamericanbi, @colgatebluemintygel and @thefairylights

[wizardmaster94]

Hard To Grasp Without My Webs Ch. 1 'before the bite'

Remus Lupin/Sirius Black, Regulus Black/James Potter, and other background relationships (Spider-Man AU)

Summary: Remus had a good life, a fantastic life actually, until he was bitten by a radioactive spider. Ever since then he had to lie to his family and his friends about almost everything, saving the entire city of London didn't come without a cost. A very heavy cost at that. He'd do anything to turn back the clock and stop himself from being bitten but there was nothing he could do but learn to accept his double life and still try to hold onto his life outside of the mask. Remus was never very good at juggling.

Word Count: 3k

Note: idk if shari's exists outside of washington but it is basically like denny's!!! also, i start my fall classes literally in like 7 hours so idk how often i will be able to update sorry :[

Warnings: none in this chapter

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

Remus sighed as he chewed on one of his many pens, his leg bouncing out of anticipation. Nervousness ran through every single of him of systems, giving him the false sense of wanting to throw up all over the place. The nerves weren’t for himself, for once, usually they were but not this time. They were for his best friend, in the entire world mind you, Mary. She was in the middle of a very important meeting with the Dean of the school, Dumbledore, discussing her future plans after she’s finished here. Mary always dreamed of getting into a high-end University but the chance of getting in on an essay and submissions of her work alone was very slim so she needed the help from as many people she could possibly get. The Dean seemed like a good choice, and that was the matter they were speaking about at the current moment. They attended a quite fancy private school called Hogwarts, it was for particularly gifted students, mainly in the arts or sciences, though they had quite the impressive rugby team that swept the floor with all the other ones in the area. Many students ended up going to an arts University, which was Mary’s dream to do one day.

It had been over 10 minutes before Mary quietly stepped out of the office, a slight frown o her face as she hung her head. Remus immediately knew what had happened and he sprung to his feet, wrapping his arms around Mary tightly to comfort her. She let out a small and quiet sigh before pulling out of his grasp and pushing her hair back with her hand. Suddenly she wasn’t frowning anymore but rather- she was laughing. Remus was confused, she looked like she was on the verge of tears just a moment ago and now she was grinning and holding onto Remus for support from how much she was laughing. “Oh, Remus- how I love you!” She managed to speak between giggles.

“Sorry- I tried to pretend like things went bad but you’re just too adorable and sweet! Remus,” Mary suddenly placed her hands on Remus’s upper arms, who was still very confused at the moment. “I got an interview with them!”

Suddenly it clicked in Remus’s mind, and he too sported a wide and manic grin as he wrapped his arms around his best friend once more, picking her up and spinning her in circles. “That’s fantastic, Mary! I’m so happy for you,” he set her down gently. “We have to go tell everyone the good news!” He beamed.

Mary nodded enthusiastically before letting her feet touch the ground again and followed Remus to the cafeteria where all of their friends certainly had to be. Remus practically buzzed with excitement, but Mary was radiating it, even causing a few random students to smile as they saw how happy she was, it was so contagious. The two quickly made their way to their usual table inside, pushed far into the corner of the cafeteria so the group could gossip without the fear of the said ‘gossip’ didn’t overhear. All of their friends looked up, they’d all been impatient to hear the news already, but now they were squirming in their seats as they waited for Mary to spill the obviously good news.

Their friend group consisted of Remus and Mary themselves, they’d been friends since forever it felt like, growing up right next door to each other since they were born, the two quickly formed a bond like no other, platonic soulmates if you will. Then there was also Lily, who was one of the prettiest girls you could ever have the pleasure of seeing with your own eyes. She was sweet as can be, but also rightfully downright terrifying when she needed to be and her and Mary made the best couple in the history of the entire world, at least to Remus. Marlene was someone he was quite close to as well, though they didn’t get to hang out often due to her being in such an important position of the rugby team, always out at practice it seemed like these days. And of course, there was James and Peter, they grew up next door to each other just like Remus and Mary did, the two got along great, practically the same person just in different fonts and one was in big bold letters while the other was a calm and soothing italics. Then there was Sirius, Sirius Black, the boy Remus was so madly infatuated with since the day they met. He too was childhood friend with James and Peter, but they didn’t meet until the three of them were all around 7 years old and were superglued at the hip ever since.

But Remus met Sirius when he was 13 and couldn’t get him out of his head ever since that day in English and he walked in with James and Peter, laughing and smiling that gorgeous smile he’d grown to love so much. He knew then that it would be his life’s mission to make Sirius smile and laugh like that until he died, thinking of that beautiful sound and face as he did. Of course, Sirius didn’t know this. No way would Remus ever dare to confess his feelings, he knew how it would go. He’d confess and then he’d hear that perfect laugh, but not out of shock, but out of disgust and horror that Remus would ever think he’d have a shot with Sirius.

Remus wouldn’t dare ruin what they had, he’d rather have him as a best friend then to not have him in his life at all. So, that was the way it was going to be, and he tried to make peace with it, but every time that laugh rang through his ears the peace would get disrupted more and more. Remus tried to not think about it too hard these days.

“So?! How did it go?!” Sirius beamed, almost standing up fully from his seat from excitement.

Mary chuckled and smiled before doing a little jump while laughing. “I got an interview!”

Everyone immediately started smiling, clapping, and cheering for their friend, they knew how much she wanted this and knew how much she deserved it out of all of them at the table. It caught the attention of a few nearby tables, but they all shrugged it off, this was usual behavior from them. “Congrats, Mary!” Peter smiled.

Lily got up and wrapped her arms around Mary, pressing a kiss to her cheek and leaving a faint red lipstick kiss on her cheek. “I’m so happy and proud of you, sweetheart! That’s amazing,’’ Lily looked like she was on the verge of tears out of happiness for her girlfriend.

Sure, an interview sounded like nothing, but that meant they read her essay and looked at her designs she submitted, and they liked her creations enough that they wanted one final check before accepting her into the school. Mary was attending a fashion school to be a designer; she was aiming for this goal since she was 3 years old and she got her first Barbie doll and went to work making her dresses from colored paper and markers. Remus vowed to be her personal photographer at every runway show she had, that’s what got him into being a photographer actually, that was the reason he attended Hogwarts, also because he was one of the brightest minds at the school when it came down to science.

Everyone congratulated Mary until lunch was over, but even then, they didn’t even really stop there. “It’s Friday, why don’t we all go out tonight to celebrate? We can go to Sheri’s; it’s been far too long since we last all went together.” Peter suggested, mouth almost watering at the thought.

“Mate, we were there just last month before school started back up.” James laughed, wrapping an arm around Peter.

“No, he’s right, James. That wasn’t all of us, Marlene has that rugby meeting, remember? So actually, it’s been around 3 months since it was all of us.” Remus added matter-of-factly.

“That’s right! Yeah- Merlin, that meeting was so useless. Me and Dorcas were the only ones who showed up and coach still made us stay and then, made us sit through all the information a week later for all those who missed it!” Marlene huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

“At least you got some time with Dorcas, eye?” Sirius giggled and wiggled his eyebrows, nudging Marlene with his elbow.

He was met with a glare that sent shivers down his spine, if looks could kill, he’d already have a tombstone planted in the ground above him. Everyone knew how badly the two girls wanted each other, except the two girls themselves of course. They’d been rivals for many years now, even though they were always on the same team every time, no matter what sport either did. Plus, they would never stop talking about each other to their own respective friends, always ‘her and her stupid legs! I mean- who needs that much leg? It’s unfair, that’s what it is!’ that, and ‘her hair is so long and flowing through the wind when we play, it’s so distracting’ that. No one spoke for a few moments, all of them remembering the time they felt like they just died at the hands of Marlene’s cold stare. Soon after though, it was settled then that they’d all get picked up by James with his mum’s car around 6 that evening, he was the only one with access to a car that could hold all of them. It was a mini-van, and even though James didn’t have any biological siblings, she still got it because of just how many friends James had. Plus, someone had to haul around the junior football team to games every weekend.

***

Around 7 o’clock was when the group of them showed up at their beloved favorite restaurant, a heap of giggles falling out of the car doors and through the entrance, not stopping until a waitress walked up to them and started asking what they’d like to drink. She was quite gorgeous, her dark tan skin and long white dreads reaching her hips, decorated with cute beads and other charms, matching the few silver piercings in her face. “Good evening, my name’s Pandora and I’ll be your server this evening. May I get you lot started on anything to drink?” Her voice was soft and calming.

Sirius’ eyebrows furrowed; he knew this girl, but it wasn’t quite clicking. “Pandora…” He mumbled to himself before his eyes went wide.

“Pandora! You go to Hogwarts, right? You and Reg are mates,” Sirius snapped his fingers together as if he just solved some huge mystery.

Remus placed his hand over his mouth to hide his slowly growing smile, he couldn’t control it! Anything Sirius did sent butterflies to his stomach, even when he was behaving like this. “Mhm,” Pandora hummed before snickering a bit. “Since we were 11, I was just over last weekend, Sirius.”

Sirius flushed as he suddenly remembered. “Oh- well, uh…yeah no, I don’t have any excuses for that other than I might actually be part goldfish.”

Everyone at their table and Pandora laughed at this, even Sirius, though he was mainly laughing out of embarrassment. “Oh, Sirius, it’s a good thing you’re gorgeous.” Marlene giggled, patting his hand from across the booth.

That’s how their evenings usually went when they all hung out, they’d laugh, smile, poke fun at each other, and just everything and anything else they could think of. These nights were what they all always looked forwards to, especially after being so stressed with school starting back up a month ago and just dealing with annoying classmates, they needed this. They didn’t leave until past 09 o’clock but no one wanted the night to end quite yet, it was Friday, what did they have to lose? “I reckon we go to the park, maybe play on the playground! I doubt there is any little kids hogging the swings like usual,” Mary suggested as they all climbed into James’ mum’s car.

“I’d pay to see Remus ride the rocker!” Sirius laughed, already enjoying the mental image.

“Oh, come on, those thigs are made for toddlers! I’ll bend it half backwards if I get on it,” Remus whined, really not feeling like causing destruction to a playground tonight. “Make Lily do it!”

“Hey! Who said you could volunteer me?” She barked before going back to her phone, taking pictures as they drove so she could add them to her story later.

“Oh, come on…it’ll be funny! You’re literally a giant, come on,” Sirius dragged out the ‘n’ both times as he nudged Remus with his shoulder, giving him the puppy dog eyes.

Unable to resist Sirius a second time, he just sighed and gave in, instantly feeling grateful for the choice as Sirius beamed and whispered a little ‘yes’ under his breath excitedly. He didn’t get why Sirius wanted to see him on the rocker so bad, but if it made his best friend happy, then so be it. Thinking about it, Remus would probably do anything Sirius asked him to do if it meant even making him happy for just a split second. Remus would do it without hesitation. Unless it was getting on the rusted, old, child sized rocker on the even more ancient and probably haunted-ass playground. Remus would probably aways hesitate to that if he is ever asked again.

The group soon pulled up to the park around 10 minutes later, immediately climbing over the measly little fence as they shared giggles amongst themselves. It wasn’t the first time they had done this, and they hoped it wouldn’t be the last time they got to do this all together as a group. Certainly not though, they all still had a year of school left before they all moved on to get higher educations, even then, they all swore to never loose contact with each other, no matter what. Even if they don’t speak anymore, to at least keep each other added on Facebook, at least. That was a promise they made their first year, and it just grew as more people got introduced into their tight knit group.

A few minutes later all 7 of them were running around like little kids, it wasn’t cold enough yet that their time in the night had to be cut short. They played tag, hide and seek, pushed one another on the swings, and of course, all took an endless number of selfies and pictures of each other doing stupid things someone over the age of 7 should be doing at a playground but no one cared, they were just having fun! James eventually did hurt himself through and so did Peter, at the same time of course, because they weren’t looking and ran into each other head on, knocking foreheads together as their backs hit the harsh wood chips. “Ouch! Potter- why is your head so hard?” Peter groaned, rubbing his head gently with his hand.

James couldn’t help but burst out in laughter, his preteen boy humor slipping out as Peter spoke. He watched as Peter rolled his eyes and groaned even louder as he realized what he had said and done. “Why do I even bother with you anymore,” Peter laughed finally, standing up slowly and trying to wipe the wood chips off his back that stuck on annoyingly.

Lily walked over and helped him out, she found herself giggling a bit too, though she hated it when she actually laughed at James’ stupid jokes and this time, he hadn’t even said anything but laugh! That was the most embarrassing part to herself was that fact. Sirius helped James off the ground who was still laughing, though it was less about the joke now and more about the fact he’d been running and crashed into Peter, that was the funniest bit now. Remus kept laughing, barely able to keep himself steady as he lost his footing over the lip in the concreate, in an attempt to save his face from planting into the sidewalk he twisted sideways, landing in a very thorny bush. “Ow…” he moaned, feeling dozens of tiny thrones scratching and nipping at his skin through his sweater.

Sirius and Mary both immediately rushed over to Remus to help him get out of the bush, both wincing as they saw little spots of blood forming in some spots around his skin and hands, surely throughout the rest of his body too. “Okay, I think we should call it a night, huh? Before anyone else gets hurt,” Lily spoke softly, giving both James and Peter a once over before doing the same to Remus.

Everyone nodded, all of a sudden feeling quite tired and uncomfortable in their outside clothes, all craving to get into their comfy pajamas and curl up underneath a blanket until late morning tomorrow. Amongst all of the chaos that unfolded quite quickly that evening and the pain still attacking Remus as he slowly walked and shuffled back to the car, he hadn’t noticed, well he did but didn’t care, the sharp pain at the nape of his neck, it had to have been a thorn stuck in his clothes or a wound just now opening itself up to the surface, obviously not a bite from an extremely radioactive spider that had taken home in the very bush Remus fell into. Obviously not that, because that would be the worst thing to happen to Remus in his entire life, all because that damn spider.

Remus would never be the same after tonight and neither would his friends and family, they’d never be able to live a normal and happy life all because that stupid spider lived in that thorn bush. And Remus of course, had to have fallen into it. If he had known what would soon follow the bite, he’d taken the possible broken nose any day, he in fact often fantasized about it late at night. Just what his life way have been if he wasn’t cursed that forsaken night.

this is also posted on ao3 under 'starloulou' !!!

[skylarmoon71]

Clark Kent (Smallville) Short Story - Chapter 23

The entire encounter feels unreal.

You’re gazing at the marriage license that’s framed on the wall.

Matt and Gail Morgan.

You never thought you’d have the chance to ever see them like this. You try to take it all in. The house that you literally grew up in. Not much has changed except for the furniture and some adjustments to the exterior. It’s apparent that Harry bought the house so you would have some part of your parents with you.

“So you really are my daughter.” Matt asks.

It’s going to take a moment to grasp, but he can’t deny the familiarity. It’s almost like he’d recognized you the second he saw you despite never meeting you.

You nod.

It’s impossible for this not to feel strange. You understand. You’re also surprised that they are both taking it so well. You fully expected that they would run the second you tried to tell them where you’re from.

What you’ve been through.

It’s obvious that your mother is aware of your father’s supernatural abilities.

Apparently your earlier assumption was wrong. You hadn’t just jumped to an alternate reality. This whole time it seems that you've been stepping through different points in time.

Somehow you ended up in the past.

“I..I traveled here from the future. I was trying to control it. I’ve been bouncing around the universe all week.”

Once again, just saying that out loud feels crazy, but your father smiles and your mother rubs her belly.

“You know when he told me he was a mutant I thought he was just trying to impress me. I guess you do take after your dad.” Gail says.

He smiles.

“I told you she did. My little bean is a prodigy just like her old man. It’s only been a week and she’s already time leaping.”

Your brows furrow.

“Time leaping?”

He nods.

“My abilities, our abilities.”

He corrects, gesturing with a smile.

“It allows us to move from any space in time. We alter the natural laws of the universe. It’s genetic. My great grandfather used to write notes about our powers. Where they came from. According to my dad, our family was given this as a gift for a selfless deed. A great sacrifice.”

Just the idea is remarkable.

“That’s incredible.”

He nods.

“As magical as it sounds, our powers do come with a cost. Every time I’ve heard it the story changed, but the essence of it stays the same. Our abilities are meant to help others. To heal. If it’s ever used to exploit others then the user is said to face great consequences. They’d be stripped of their abilities.”

Your expression falls, because that sounds exactly like what happened to Aaron.

They notice and Gail reaches over, taking Matt’s hand.

This entire time you’ve had these powers just waiting to be unlocked. Aaron had the same and not once did he try to bring them back. To save them. There’s a bitter feeling in the pit of your stomach. You feel like you’ve been robbed of so much.

But now, sitting there with your parents, you want nothing more than to confess it all. If this is the past, then you can change it.

You can change everything.

“Mom, Dad you-”

He took your hand, shaking his head.

“You can’t change the past.”

Fear rushes over your face.

“I-I can!! You just said that I’m supposed to help! I’m trying to help, let me help!!”

“I can’t. You’re not supposed to alter events. Every gift has a rule. I know you understand that.”

You wish you could deny it. Feign obliviousness, but you know for a fact that he’s right. Who knows what would happen. It didn’t stop you from hoping.

Looking down, you squeeze his hands.

“I’ve always wanted to meet you..both of you.”

Matt wears a broad smile.

“I always knew you’d grow into an incredible woman. You’re just as strong willed and beautiful as your mother.”

His hand moves to your cheek, and you look up, unable to truly stop the tears this time.

“No matter what happens in the future, we’re proud of you. Everything that you’ve accomplished, even if we weren’t there to see, I know that you’re destined for incredible things.”

The tears are gushing down at this point, and he wraps a hand around you, your mother doing the same. They both hug you and at that very moment, you can almost feel the extent of their love, as if they’ve been with you all this time.

“It’s time for you to go home.”

It’s a whisper.

You’d like nothing more than to stay there forever, but he’s right.

You sob, holding on tighter, because you can feel it. This time it isn’t so much a pull. It’s like you can visualize where you want to go.

Where you need to go.

“I love you both so much.” You express.

“We love you too.”

The words feel like a song, and you close your eyes, this time willing yourself forward, because you know exactly what’s on the other side. 

[ramblersaccount]

18

In 2020, like much of the world, I experienced a lot of change. However, it felt somewhat less disruptive for me personally than for many others. Yes, the global pandemic turned our world upside down in a matter of days, but it was also the year I turned 18 and was supposed to transition into a young adult – Aaliah, version 2.0, with newfound independence and cooler vibes. I had anticipated a grand transformation in the way people perceived and treated me. I imagined myself becoming more sociable, attending parties, and embracing a more carefree lifestyle, no longer reliant on my parents for permission. Well, as it turned out, that's not quite how things played out. *Cue the sad trombone*

But that's perfectly okay; I could undertake the "Aaliah transformation" right from the comfort of my own home. TikTok had already gained considerable popularity as a social media platform before the pandemic, and I had recently created an account. The platform was rampant with self-proclaimed "self-care" gurus offering advice on how to take care of yourself during lockdown. They covered everything from skincare routines and dietary tips to picking up new hobbies. These content creators were there to both entertain and educate the masses. I found myself saving videos on the best recipes for weight loss, effective at-home skincare remedies, and guides on discovering my personal "aesthetic." Before I knew it, I was comparing myself to the people I saw on the app, wondering why I couldn't look more like them. Unfortunately, this remains a habit I struggle with to this day.

At that time, I weighed 115 pounds and really only had one proper meal a day. Even before the pandemic, I rarely had breakfast or dinner but would grab a sandwich or a snack after school and before my sports practices. Now that I was spending my entire day at home, my eating habits started to change, and I developed a fear of becoming "too big." I was a self-conscious teenager, plagued by worries about whether I was good enough.

My school was relatively small and predominantly Hispanic. In my grade, I could only recall about seven Black students, with me and one of the boys having the darkest skin tones. I also had a bit of a tomboyish style. This combination of factors made me feel somewhat less attractive than my peers. Additionally, I sometimes felt as though I was pigeonholed into the category of the "angry dark-skinned social justice warrior." 

I had never been in a relationship, and it seemed like no one had ever shown genuine interest in me, so I felt the need to reinvent myself. Despite my best efforts, I began gaining weight, and to my surprise, I actually liked it. I had always had curves, but now they were more pronounced, making me appear older and healthier, and I thought it suited me. I started experimenting with makeup and trying out new hairstyles and clothing, and I had mixed feelings about the whole process. Each new style I tried seemed to meet with resistance from my parents, making me feel like nothing ever looked quite right on me.

My excitement soared when I received acceptance to Lincoln University. Located in Pennsylvania, it meant I would be on my own, and being an HBCU (Historically Black Colleges and Universities) meant I'd finally get to experience being around more Black people than I ever had in my previous schools, truly immersing myself in American Black culture. I knew I'd never fully grasp it, coming from a West Indian household, but I was thrilled to be around people who looked like me.

When I moved into my dorm, the pandemic was still ongoing, so we had to quarantine for about a week. But after that initial period, college life began to unfold just as I had envisioned, at least for the first week. I hung out with a random group of people initially, only to never talk to them again, as it turned out. However, I embraced the clothing I wanted to wear and felt confident, albeit with a sense of artificial confidence. Strangely, every time I stepped out of my room, I felt a subtle tightness in my chest. Were my hand movements awkward? Why did I make eye contact with that person? They probably think I look out of place. These thoughts weighed on me with every step I took.

In time, I found myself leaving my room only to eat and occasionally get some fresh air. Surprisingly my anxiety about people had nothing to do with COVID and everything to do with my self-esteem. Luckily my room never felt like a prison; it was simply my sanctuary. I oddly never felt lonely, even though I spent most of my time by myself. I would read, watch TikToks, practice my dancing, paint, and do anything I wanted. I even tried out new recipes using a little toaster I definitely wasn't supposed to have. I felt free and content in my self-imposed solitude.

The only thing missing was my family, the food I loved, and the familiarity of my city. Lincoln was in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by farms. There were only fake Italian restaurants and Domino's for dining options. The cafeteria's ethnic food could only hold me over for so long. I missed my mom's pelau and the ability to buy doubles. I longed for visits to the deli and taking the train. Living by myself made me happy, but I wished I could do it back home. 

Reflecting on it now, I regret missing out on the opportunity to socialize, but I am grateful for the time I had to be with myself. In hindsight, I see that it was essential for my personal growth. During that time alone, I discovered a deeper understanding of myself and learned to appreciate the journey of self-discovery. In moments of self-reflection and solitude, we often uncover our true selves, which can grow and flourish as we become more self-aware. Life's paradox is that while we seek connections with others, we must also connect with our inner selves. This inner journey helps us become more complete and better at forming meaningful connections with the world. 

[ainyan]

WIP Wednesday

[This is the second chapter of my University AU. Whereas the first chapter focused on Kal'istae, this chapter focuses on Thancred. Here is the first section.]

He’d almost made it to class; the door to the lecture hall was within view when a pair of slim arms slid around his waist, fetching him up short. He hissed a curse under his breath as he heard her warm laughter and felt her lips against the back of his neck. “There you are.”

If he had to be brutally honest, her voice still sent shivers down his spine - and not necessarily in a negative way. One of Sharlayan’s foremost vocal students, he had a feeling that when she finally hit her prime, she would give F’lhaminn a run for her money. Years of training had honed a gods-given gift into a powerful weapon - one she wielded as deftly as any surgeon might his scalpel.

It had taken years to work out from beneath the snare of that voice - and, he admitted, her frank sexuality - but he’d managed. He’d be damned if he’d let her reel him right back in. aReaching down, he gently unhooked her hands and stepped out of her embrace, turning to see her pouting down at him.

She was an undeniably pretty girl who had turned into a beautiful woman. Had she been more subtle, more clever, she might have managed to sink her hooks in him too deeply for him to escape. Thank all of the gods that subtlety was not a part of her internal makeup. “Hello, Varienne,” he replied politely. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m expected in class.”

“Come on, Thancred,” she sulked, wrapping her arm through his and clinging tightly. “I’ve been gone for a whole semester - surely you can miss one class to… catch up with an old friend.” Her smile left him with no illusions as to how she wanted to ‘catch up’.

Deftly he snaked his arm from her grasp and stepped back, one step closer to his goal and safety. When she would have approached, he retreated further and she stopped, brow furrowing in perplexity. “Varienne, I have class,” he repeated, “and I have no intention of skipping it. Welcome back, I hope you had fun in Ishgard, but we’ve been over this a million times. There’s nothing between us but the past.”

She stared at him. “Why are you being this way, Thancred? We’ve always been each other’s plus one, and I’m certainly not seeing anyone. I know you’re not.”

Stung, he scowled. “How do you know I’m not?”

Her pale blue eyes laughed at him. “Have you ever had a girlfriend, Thancred?” At his grunt, she shrugged. “You don’t date. You fuck. You fuck really well,” she added slyly, “as I have plenty of reason to know. And while someday you may get tired of visiting all the flowers like the busy little bee you are, I doubt that day has come yet.” There was an odd bite at the edges of her voice.

“Much to your chagrin,” he murmured, and her quick glare told him his shot had hit home. “And there you are, Vai. I’m not interested in leading you on - or being led around by you. We had a great deal of fun, but it’s time we - and by we, I mean you - moved on.”

Her pale eyes grew flinty. “I don’t recall you being so rude or uncouth before, Thancred.”

The hells of it was, he generally wasn’t, and acting so towards her now was taking all of his theatrical ability. “We were friends once, before we were lovers. We could be again. But I’m not interested in rehashing old times with you, Vai, and I’m definitely not interested in being tied to you or anyone else.”

Her lips tightened, eyes growing even harder if possible. “Now why don’t I entirely believe you?” she asked, her voice soft but edged with steel.

“Believe me or not, ‘tis the truth,” Thancred replied, his own ire plain. “I’m happy being a free agent, same as I have been since the first time I discovered all the wondrous things about women.”

The glint in her eyes was mostly anger, but there was hurt, too - genuine enough, he imagined, and felt a twinge of guilt. Only a twinge, though. She’d brought it on herself. “And does that extend to your best friend’s girlfriend?” she asked snidely.

Ah. As he’d suspected. “Kali and Jacke are very happy together,” he replied evenly, “and I doubt even were I so inclined, I could give her what she wants or deserves. But that is neither here nor there,” he added, cutting her off even as she opened her mouth, “because she’s my friend, and that’s all.”

She backed up a step. “So you say,” she muttered sullenly. “Go on then, before you’re late. Be responsible,” she sneered, drawling the word as if it were an epithet. “If you change your mind, you know how to find me. Just don’t wait too long,” she added as a parting shot over her shoulder. “You’re not the only one who knows how best to scratch my itch.”

“Then go find one of them,” he muttered under his breath, quickly retreating to the lecture hall where most of his classmates had already gathered, taking their seats. He ducked into the crowd and took the first available desk he could find that had several others sitting nearby. He wouldn’t put it past her to sneak in and try to start something, if only to get him in trouble.

Petty did not begin to describe Varienne Lavereux. And he was of no mind to play her twisted games this time around.

As the professor stood up and began to speak, he shoved her from his mind and turned his attention to class, pulling a notebook from his satchel and setting it on his desk. Pen poised above the table, he listened to the lecture with half-lidded eyes and lost himself in the learning.

His first true love.

[berrylover0571]

Fuck it it's time to vent my geeky Star Wars posting bullshit:

In no fucking universe outside of maybe a parallel reality within the Star Wars continuity are the fifth ever the good guys and should they ever be considered the good guys. The dark side unequivocally is a bad path that hurts everyone involved, and no amount of military might or Supreme Firepower can outrun the cosmic power of the sentient life force of the universe. There's no such thing as Jedi plot armor, Rose is not a bad character, you just fundamentally misunderstand what's plot armor is and what a bad character is.

The reason why Jedi plot armor supposedly exists is because Jedi are the good guys and they need to succeed, even when they fail fuck up and betray what they are supposed to do in the prequels, they're still unequivocally the better choice compared to the sith. The reason why is because the Sith want to eliminate anyone who opposes them, create a Galaxy built on might makes right philosophy. And the best part is, Jedi plot armor does not exist, there are bad jedi, fundamentally bad Jedi who do not understand the ideology of their own religion and utilize it in a weaponized manner against people, and they end up getting their just fucking desserts in every single instance they exist. From the bastard who decides to embrace the dark side because he thinks it's balance in Jedi Fallen order, to pong krell weaponizing the Clones against each other, they get their Just Desserts and are swiftly and justly dealt with. The reason why Reva survives? She forsakes the dark side she has embraced. The bad guys lose because they try and dominate people though and then attempt to dominate people because they are cowards and conquistadors and try and one up each other. We literally fucking see this in episode 8.

If you find it boring that the good guys win because the Star Wars equivalent of God is on their side, then go to a different universe and enjoy something else. I cannot express how much of a baby thing it is to bitch about the good guys winning. You literally have an entire Trilogy and TV show dedicated to the bad guys winning in the end, you're going to get another fucking one in acolyte. Imagine seeing wonderful stories, beautiful art, epic scores, probably one of the best illustrations of modern mythology in our lifetimes, and bitching about how the good guys win. If you want the bad guys to win go to Warhammer 40K, you get all the fun shit you want and more, because clearly you want to think about nothing but military tactics and cool evil Mystic space bullshit. This is so God damn frustrating, how could you watch 10 movies, several cartoons and TV shows, and still walk away with the wrong conclusion? How can you Huff your own goddamn paint that much?

Darth Vader's tragic! Not cool, tragic!

As is Darth maul, Darth tyrannus, they're all betrayed in the vainglorious attempt from a Mystic fascist to maintain an immortal Empire that is a delusion. By the time he gets to power he is a delusional monster that has no grasp on reality and an entire cult dedicated to his worship.

I utterly and deeply despise the Sith because they destroyed beautiful and wonderful people with complex stories who could have healed so much sooner than they did in order to build a massive Empire that crushes people under its foot under the vague gesture towards peace and freedom. The only freedom under the Empire is the freedom to die. Everything else is fought for.

How could you watch Andor and walk away with the idea that the clone wars were fine and that no one was manipulated and that one side was good? How could you walk away with anything other than a very heavy hatred for the machinations of war and a desire to destroy them?

Never mind the fucking dark side, how could you look at the jedi, who are in pretty much all Canon media depicted as pretty sensible and stable people, who give a shit about everyone they love including the Galaxy and it's strangers, and walk away with the idea that they don't and they are emotionless monsters?

Star Wars fans quite literally cannot grasp the idea, the very simple idea, that war is bad and that these giant machinations as cool as they look are fucking Cosmic level Horrors crushing you underfoot in the attempt to subjugate you?

Why in God's name do you think the good guys have smaller ships which look much more lived in and with far richer histories? There's a reason why the enemy ships are clean and the good guy ships are dirty, it's visual storytelling in its simplest form.

[effectivesociety]

Imagine your teacher sat you down and offers you a project

. She leans down to you and the people at your table and says “I have to make you aware of a difficult assignment you guys were given by the school. Look I do not think this is entirely fair but it’s a part of the school system and there’s nothing I can do about it. On the upside, if you or anyone else at school completes it none of you will ever have to do another homework again, there will be no more detention and unlimited recess. But look you do not have that much time, if you don’t complete it before you graduate you will be expelled not only from the school but this planet. We think there may be other schools but honestly, we have no idea.”

You sit and think to yourself. Wow, that doesn’t seem fair but it’s obvious what needs to be done. The assignment needs to get completed. Luckily it’s not just you, the entire school has been given this task. So you go around and ask your classmates what they think of the task. To your surprise many students didn’t even know the task was possible to be completed, I guess this had been the way the school worked for centuries, and students always got expelled at the end, that’s just what happened. People told you that that’s just how the school system worked, and that unlimited recess would be unnatural, and people should be forced into detention all the time. In fact, all the seniors in the school were being forced into detention now before being expelled. You personally knew the school system was messed up, but now realize it’s not going to be easy to convince everyone.

Just then you heard about this kid named Devilen, apparently, he keeps distracting everyone with jolly ranchers and pizza parties. People then choose to believe that the school system is ok so they don’t need to deal with the fact that jolly ranchers and pizza parties every night are distracting them from the assignment.

Life’s Assignment

This fairytale, as you might have guessed is a metaphor for the life you are living today. Being expelled from school is a metaphor for death. Detention is the metaphor for the failure of the body, the slow rot, the loss of movement and ability as one grows old. Senior is quite literally a metaphor for a true senior. Of course, Devilen is a reference to the devil with jolly ranchers and pizza parties representing artificial dopamine including social media consumption, watching sports, and unhealthy habits.

It’s funny after all, we have all heard stories of heaven being for those who earn it, and hell is for those who disregard it. It seems all too peculiar that in the real physical realm we live in this prophecy is playing out. To drink and to lust without control, Religion for defeating death wasting one’s life could lead to a true exit of it, while a focus over the short period of this crazy part of humanities expansion could mean the difference in humanities spread in this universe. Everyone has the task, few fully grasp it, many are listening to age-old stories of the difficulty of the assignment, while the few see the assignment, the race to it, the achievement of it, the story they will tell, and the people they will work with, as the most beautiful thing that they could have ever hoped for.

WE are a few of those people, and what a glorious mission we are on.

“He who has a why to live for can bear almost anyhow.” Nietzsche.

“One day death will die” I remember very well I heard this phrase I was watching a philosophy conference and suddenly these words froze me. I frowned with great amazement and only these words over and over again like an endless melody in my mind. That phrase changed the way I see death forever. – Estefani Serna

 Philosophy has been one of my passions since I was a very young girl. The love of knowledge has led me to analyze life from various points of view, and some (or most) have not been very “pleasant.”

If you still don’t know the path of philosophy, but you’re one of those who think in philosophy you can get answers and some comfort to your pain, let me pat you on the back. (Nothing further from reality) I like the expression that philosophy only serves to break your balls because, in a way, it is.

Philosophy takes us down from our golden cloud, makes us step on the ground, and sometimes kisses hell. That is the price we have to pay for knowledge, but I assure you that there is no way and greater satisfaction than walking along this path.

Once you make up your mind, you turn on your lamp and start to get out of the labyrinth, and there is no turning back. Philosophy would be Ariadne’s thread that helps us escape the maze of the minotaur.

When we question the society where we live and leave our comfort zone, we begin to doubt whether the things presented to us as “natural” really are.

One of the most studied topics of philosophy is death. I do not think there is any philosopher who has forgotten to write or even dedicate a little text to such a controversial subject.

In philosophical terms, it seemed that death is irretrievable. And some existentialist philosophers mostly thought that death should be embraced with peace of mind because it is the end of all human suffering. But, is it like that today?

“I hope you don’t hate me Schopenhauer, I love you.”

Anthropology confirms that the most important characteristic of human beings is their fear of death. And precisely this fear pushed us to gain the advances in medicine and technology that we have today.

Some of the new philosophers have changed their perspectives on death, and the reason why we have new points of view about the world is that science has progressed a lot. Many problems and diseases from previous centuries became a page of history.

Even in the Christian story of Jesus, when he was on the cross, he said with pain: “father, why have you abandoned me?” Jesus of Nazareth didn’t even want to die.

The truth is that nobody wants to die. We are not ready to do it. Our survival instinct holds on to life.                                                                   

Something about Plato’s cave myth is exciting; besides being timeless, it explains how the one that comes out of the cave stops seeing the shadows reflected on the wall by the sunlight changes and can see everything completely different. But they do it little by little as their eyes get used to the light.

Einstein said people were crazy if they kept doing things the same way expecting different results. Do you want to be as ignorant as those prisoners who live in the cave thinking that their realities are those shadows that shake on the wall?

We have the duty of observing life and society from new points of view. Stop being afraid and use philosophy. Unlearn the concepts we have been taught as natural and analyze them closely.

Most people have spent their whole lives ignoring things, locking themselves in their cavern of superficiality, drowning out of work, spending the entire day watching TV. They are being very indifferent to the world where we live because only in this way we get rid of taking our share of responsibility and having a quieter life without making great efforts to think or question. As one sage once said, “ignorance makes happiness”.

Yes, I know you will think this all sounds cliche, but people are still not aware of their power in this world. We complain and hope that a magical change will fall from the sky, and one day we will wake up, and everything will be different, doing nothing for it.

Wake up!  This isn’t going to happen; if you want a real change, walk and look in the mirror, start with yourself.

As Kant explained in Critique of Pure Reason “We see things, not as they are, but as we are.”

He ironically changed philosophy entirely without leaving the small town where he was born.

[swtki]

Boss - C.D

Pairing: CEO! Cedric Diggory x Intern! Fem! Reader

Summary: You fucked your boss, thats it.

Warnings: fluff, swearing, mentions of copulation, About a five year age gap (reader is 23 and Cedric is 28), alcohol.

A/N: not me just now posting this

When I was informed that my intern application had been accepted, I was ecstatic. It was my dream to work in the Aurors office, to fight the evil trying to destroy our way of life. Naturally, I went out drinking the night before - which granted, wasn't an amazing idea in the first place. I planned to have a few drinks, then grab a taxi for home. The tall, lean, brunette man sitting next to me was a later addition to the itinerary.

"Drinking to forget the demons, or celebrating?" he said, swirling his whiskey.

"Excuse me?"

He smiled, "It's just that usually people only come to a bar when doing either of the two."

"Oh," I turned my body towards him, "Celebrating, I suppose.". He smiled and nodded, taking a slow sip of his drink. "And you? Which is your reason?" Upon further inspection, I noticed he was dressed in a suit, but had taken off the jacket.

"Demons, I've lived a long time. Seen a few things."

"You can't be more than thirty, and obviously you do well for yourself. Businessman, perhaps? A wife, kids, a brilliant car?" I questioned.

"Not even close," He scoffed, "Twenty-eight, I've had the most experiences with near death than anyone you'll ever know. I live in an average flat, I don't own a car, nor do I have anything resembling a wife or kids." I sat there quietly. "So, what is it that you're celebrating...." he signaled as if he were asking for my name.

"Y/N, I start my internship tomorrow."

We talked for the rest of the evening, and he invited me to his flat. It eventually led to me waking up next to him in bed at two am, and blindly stumbling to my own home. Usually, one night stands weren’t my forte; Cedric was different. I didn’t know his last name, but I knew how he sounded - how he tasted.

My heels clicked on the linoleum floor of the ministry, I would start off in the office, filing for aurors and such. Even to assist them was an honor. My smile was wide as I entered the well lit office. A woman rushed by, her cup of coffee floating a few inches behind her. She saw me standing there, rather misplaced and stopped.

“Can I help you dear?” she said with a raised brow.

“Yes, I’m Y/N L/N, I’m the new intern.” The woman’s face relaxed.

“Ah- yes we were just talking about you! I’m Macy - I work in the same department as you actually. Come along, lets see you to your station.” Macy strutted away as I quickly followed behind, only stopping once we reached a small wooden desk in a separate room.

“This,” She pulled the chair out and motioned for me to sit, “Is your desk - its right next to the library so you can put together files more easily. My desk is over there.” She pointed her long red fingertips towards a decorated space; While mine had absolutely nothing, hers had pictures and intricate pens. “Oh!” she exclaimed, “they didn’t put your typewriter over here - lazy bastards.” With a swish of her wand, she brought me a slightly rusted device.

“Thank you, Macy.” She smiled and we started on my training. What to put wear, when to drop off the files, how to drop off the files, and so on. I looked at the clock as it struck five, the time flew by so fast that at first I thought it was broken.

As Macy and I walked out of the office together, I saw a fairly large office, blinds drawn down as much as possible. “Hey, whats that room there?” I pointed.

“Oh - thats Mr. Diggory’s office. I guess a case must have been rough, haven’t seen much of’m today. Probably meet him tomorrow, just needs to reset ‘s’all. “ I nodded and kept up with her, stopping once we reached our respective transportation.

As I walked in the next morning, I noticed someone blocking the door to my department’s office. He was tall, lean, slumping against the frame as if this were a solicitation friendly area - it wasn’t.

“Excuse me, I’d really like to get to my desk can you maybe-“ He turned around and with him my entire universe shook. It was him, it was Cedric. He stepped aside, not giving me the faintest of recognition that he had in fact been inside my guts only a few days before. I quietly walked in, my entire body feeling cold and stiff. I couldn’t quite place the feeling; Was it embarrassment? Hurt? I wanted to know so I could eradicate it.

The days passed and I succesfuly managed to avoid being alone with him. If we weren’t alone we couldn’t have the “talk”. I thought I was safe until I decided to stay a bit later than usual, packing up my stuff just as the last person had left, or who I thought the last person was.

I looked up when I heard three solid yet soft knocks on the door. My jaw went slack as I saw who it was.

“Got a minute?” he asked.

“I suppose…” my voice was quiet, why was I so nervous in front of him? He walked over to the desk beside me and leaned on it.

“You haven’t talked to me since - since that night. I woke up and you were gone, I thought I’d never see you again.”

“Well - maybe it would have been for the better, Mr. Diggory-“ He leaned forward slightly.

“Please, call me Cedric when we’re alone. I want you to be my equal when in private. And no, I don’t think it would have been for the better. You- you’re brilliant you know?” I hummed in response. “Y/N, I want you to be more than a subordinate. I want to take you to dinner - to do all the parts we skipped before.” I bit my lip, hesitantly.

“I need to….I need to think on it.”

“Right.” He said quietly, shoving his hands in his pockets. A pit formed in my stomach, had I just rejected him on accident? Was it possible my soul mate stood a few feet from me and I was in the process of fucking it up? He dropped his composure a bit. “Well, I’ll be off then. Have a lovely night, Y/N.” He said my name so well, so smooth. Like the night we first met, he was so natural yet so put together. He turned to walk out of the door, not hesitating for a small second. My thoughts ran wild with every step he took away from me.

“Fuck.” I hissed under my breath, opening the door and walking out to the hall as fast as I could. I spotted him - waiting for the lift. “I don’t,” He looked up from the floor, “I don’t have anything for tea tonight - plans I mean. I’d like to take you up on that offer.” My hands grasped themselves, thumbs twiddling as I saw him smile and start to laugh.

“You,” He stepped closer to me, leaving the tile where the lift was located, “Sure like to make this hard for me.” He lifted my hand to his face, leaving a soft kiss on the back of my hand.

And thats how I became the girlfriend of Cedric Diggory, the man who won the Tri-wizard tournament. It turned out, I had in fact been standing next to my soulmate the entire time.