#tumblr deleted my fucking tags so now I’m rewriting them

[pupcuck]

JINGLE BELL COCK !

ft. leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags. p in v, uncle/niece incest, somno

notes. MERRY CHRISTMAS!! this is very messy and rushed i haven’t been able to write properly lately so forgive me for the repetitiveness and clunkiness!! ignore typos as always :3 feedback n rbs always appreciated !!! this is reallyyy sloppy and I’m embarrassed so I may go back and delete and rewrite in a few days time 😭

tumblr has started to remove fics that use tw non-con, tw incest and any nsfw tags in general. for this reason, as i’d like my fic to appear in the tags so i can have the same reach as other authors, please understand that this fic contains dark content under the cut. reading this comes at your own risk.

“Woah,” Leon's knees almost buckle when you barrel into him, “Pumpkin, wow,” He takes you in, settles his hands on your hips, and it might be inappropriate ‘cause your mother glares at him over your shoulder. What did she want him to do? Grab your ass? Could’ve, should’ve, would’ve. Just doesn’t wanna get put on a list of some kind. “You’re so big now.”

“Yeah?” Your cheeks split with a sweet smile, “I missed you, uncle.”

“God, you’re so big I can’t believe it,” He gives you a once over, he’d like to catcall you to show you how he feels, Leon refrains from doing so. “I remember when you were a kid, always sat in my lap ‘n said you wanted to marry me.”

“Awww,” A gloved hand comes to pat his cheek, you take the tip of the fabric between your teeth, taking it off finger by finger, “I can do that again if you’d really like, uncle.” Your nails scratch his scruffy chin, press your finger into the divot he hates so much, then you stare right at it. Don’t look at that, god. Totally messed him over. Shit fucked up his golden ratio.

“What're you lookin’ at, pumpkin?” He shifts from foot to foot, moves his flight bag from one shoulder to the other.

“Just never seen you with a beard,” You shrug, beaming at him once more. Okay, not the chin then, thank fuck. “It’s cute, uncle, makes you look older.” Leon doesn’t know if that’s good or bad, though he feels his spinal disk shrink with each passing second.

You turn on your heels when his sister-in-law, fine as ever, says your name, “We should go before she gets pissy.” You tell him cheekily, taking his hand in yours, and you’re so big now he can’t believe it. A whole lot of tit, hip, and your ass ain’t too shabby either. Leon’s justification is that he’s only a man, can't help himself when he sees a pretty girl, even if said girl is his niece. He’s an honest guy, gotta give his brother props for marrying such a smokeshow, even more credit for knocking her up. ‘Cause she popped out an even hotter girl, younger, brighter, and your tits sit prettier.

Their family stands on crumbling foundations, when he’s around his brother, Leon’s five seconds away from blowing his brains out at any given moment. He doesn’t know why people question his suicidal tendencies, he’s more than willing to show them. Snow crunches under his boots as he navigates the path leading up to the front door. The layer of glossy red paint has chipped away to reveal the mahogany beneath. It’s been that long, huh?

“I’m in college now, I have my licence and everything, uncle, I wanted to visit you in D.C. but I couldn’t get ahold of you,” You chatter to him, tugging at your laces and propping your shoes up on the shelf near the door, make the move to grab his suitcase, but Leon swiftly moves it aside. “I can carry it, I’m a big girl now.”

“No, you’re not,” Leon frowns, to him you’re a baby. An undeveloped prefrontal cortex and a soft spot on the top of your head. Yeah, you got a rack now, sure, he wants to fuck you now - doesn’t change a thing.

“Okay, well did you bring me a present?” You trail after him, and you really are still a baby.

“Yeah, you’re my favourite girl, I bought you lots.” He’s not sure if you’ll like it. Colouring books, dolls, plastic jewellery. He’s a bit of an idiot. Didn’t think about how long it’s been.

“Can I open them now?” You seat yourself next to him on the couch, knee bumping his.

“Later, pumpkin, I promise.”

“I want to transfer to Washington.” Wine trickles over the edge of your cup, Leon soaks it up with a napkin, dabs at your face when a rivulet dribbles down your chin.

His brother’s knocked out in their dad’s old armchair, it’s beyond saving, but he’s cheap. Your mom retired to bed a while back, they argued over something trivial, a cheeseboard or some shit, and with that it leaves the two of you.

“Yeah? You got friends out there or what?”

“No, but you’re there, uncle.” You grin, batting your lashes so pretty he gets without popping a viagra or two. Three. He needs three minimum. “I could come stay with you, right?”

Fuck no, under no circumstance should he be allowed within fifty feet of you. And here Leon is, bumping knees, brushing fingers like you’re lovesick teens on a first date. That’s just not right, is it? He’s a decrepit old man on his way to getting a senior bus pass, and he’s your uncle and all. Can’t really go around popping boners over family members.

“I work too much.” Leon says coolly, sweat dripping from his temple, drumming his fingers against the table. “Hey, you wanna open your presents?”

“Yes!” You nod with wild enthusiasm, like a bobblehead, cute ones you keep on the dashboard. Leon would love to take you home with him, display you on the mantle like a China doll, show you off like some rare artefact. Just can’t, he’d end up doing something awful, peeking in on you showering— or worse he’d start sleepwalking, get into your room- “Go get them then, uncle.”

The paper is pink, the shade you used to adore as a young girl, the colour you’ve since painted over in your room. He got that professionally wrapped, big bow on it and all. Leon’s not good at making things look pretty. It’s easier to assemble a gun than it is to wrap presents. Your name is scrawled on the tag in cursive writing that belongs to none other than Claire, she insisted on doing so, felt inclined after seeing his chicken-scratch.

“It’s for me, you shouldn’t have, uncle!” You snatch it out of his hands, Jesus, had more manners when you were a kid. Once you tear through the paper, you blink down at the plastic princess costume jewellery. Clip-on earrings, fluffy mules that are much too tiny, the whole lot. “Oh, wow, well, it sure is nice.”

“Pumpkin,” Leon starts, “It slipped my mind that you’re a big girl now, I wasn’t thinkin’ and I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” You placate him with your smile, “I’m just glad you’re here.” Cheesy, still makes him swoon.

“We can go shopping ‘fore I go back, I’ll buy you whatever, yeah?”

“I don’t need that,” You shake your head, eyes flitting from his lower half then to his lips. He’s making shit up in his head now. It’s late, Leon should go to sleep, doesn’t wanna start kissing on you and end up in court. “Oh, you’re going already?”

“I’m tired, pumpkin.” My dick is so hard it’s cutting off all blood flow to my brain, my pants are squeezing it so tight I’m gonna contract sepsis and that shit will fall straight off, I don’t want my dick to fall off, pumpkin, hope you can understand my reasoning. Leon hopes you can see the desperation in his eyes, that you can see the sentiment he’s trying to get across.

The bed creaks with his weight, and it’s the same dusty, bed-bug ridden shit his brother’s had for years. He jerks off, blows his load on his stomach, too worn out to clean it up. Falls asleep with his hand down his pants. Then Leon starts having wet dreams like he’s twenty-one again, of your petal lips, of your hands on his dick, your tits, how your thighs look when you sit. Warmth engulfs his cock, and it’s so real, he’s so sure you’re right there, sucking him off like a good girl. You’re cute like a sex doll, and it’s unfair that he has to put on this uncle act. Used to come natural to him when you were a kid, but it’s just different.

Only when Leon lifts his hand does he come into contact with skin, with hair, and a human. At first, he thinks it’s the dog, one of the three. Then he feels small hands parting his thighs further, the familiarity of your smile warming his skin.

“Pumpkin.” Leon rasps, and it’s not quite warning, just a tone that says keep going, but this is fucked up, doesn’t mean I don’t want it though. He thanks you for making the first move.

You pull off with a wet pop, kissing along his Apollo’s belt. “I want to come to D.C. and stay with you,” You say between fervid kisses, “I want to be with you, uncle, you’re handsome and I like you.” Your confession is feverish, he wonders if you realise the weight of your words. Can’t go around telling lonely old men that you like ‘em.

“I’m your uncle, pumpkin.” Leon states simply, ‘cause he’s an adult and he’s collected, but you can keep pumping his dick like that, he really don’t mind.

“No one would know,” You kiss the sticky tip, pre smeared over your lips like lip gloss, tongue poking out to taste him, dipping into his leaky slit. “I could be your girlfriend.” Leon doesn’t even know you, he knows the little girl you once were.

Leon’s too old for that shit. Girlfriend boyfriend talk. “I’m too old to be dating, pumpkin.” He cradles the back of your head with his calloused hand, guides you to base of his shaft, your tongue tracing the vein that runs along the underside of his cock.

“Yeah, but you’re not too old to marry me, are you?” You’re a clever girl, giving him a cheeky smile as you sit up and clamber into his lap.

“What’s gotten into you, pumpkin?” Don’t stop, pumpkin. Same thing. He hopes his dick says enough, standing proud as you lift your hips, wet hole stretching to accommodate his fat tip. Leon can’t see your face, but he shuts his eyes and thinks about it, how your lips would part so pretty, and you’d toss your head back, sweat making your skin all shiny.

“I just really like you, uncle.” One way ticket out of this shitty town, away from his shitry brother, away from your narc bitch of a mom, free food, free housing - Leon understands your motive. Truly, he does, and he can’t find it in himself to give a damn. If you pretend to love then it matters all the same.

“Okay, then sit on it, pumpkin.” Leon urges, firm hands finding purchase on your hips, forcing you down on his cock till you take all of him to the hilt. The head bumps your cervix, and Leon is in love with you. Thank fuck he came back home, thank god, thank Claire for pushing him to the point of booking a flight. “You wanna marry me?”

“I told you, didn’t I? Promised I was gonna marry you when I was a kid.” You press your tits flush to his chest, lips ghosting Leon’s. “I wanna marry you so bad, uncle, you’re all I want.” And Leon can’t help himself, doesn’t mean to let go so early, the coils of heat in his belly turn searing, and he empties himself into you with a groan. The quiet noise of disappointing you let out as his cock softens inside of you is adorable.

“You gotta get used to that if you marry me, I’m old now.” He strokes your head, holds you tight, refuses to let go now that he’s got you.

“I can deal with it, uncle, as long as I get to be your wife.”

[cosmal]

𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 — 𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐌𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

note — this is for @sparklingsin spookinktober!! it was queued to be posted on halloween but tumblr deleted it!! so I had to rewrite it :((( so I'm sorry that this is so late and so terrible!! I tried my best to rewrite it like it was fr. i do genuinely hate this now, i’m sorry.

summary — eddie comes back after a week and sees you in your angel costume. he has to fuck you right then and there.

warnings/tags — fem!afab!reader, she/her pronouns, smut, mdni, piv, fingering, needy!reader

wc — 1.8k

“Steve, have you seen Eddie yet?” You stand on your tiptoes to get closer to his face, leaning over the breakfast bar that separates the two of you. 

Steve probably yells too eagerly. The music is loud, but you’re not exactly far away, “Y/N like I said fifteen minutes ago, he’ll be here at 9 o’clock.” 

“What’s the time?” You laugh. Winding Steve up is always fun. 

Steve sighs like he’s annoyed. You know he’s really not, “8:45.” 

“Awesome. I’m gonna go sit on the couch until he gets here.” You tell him before spinning on your heels. The feathers of your angel wings tickle his face as you turn and Steve wrinkles his nose. 

“I’m sure you will, Y/N!” he calls before you turn the corner. 

And you do exactly that. You’ve waited for Eddie to get back all week, what’s fifteen more minutes? By the time Eddie arrives, the wiry angel wings on your back have grown a little itchy. You’d take them off if you weren’t excited to show Eddie your costume. 

Picking at a loose thread on your frilly, white skirt, you don’t even notice the pair of knees in ripped, black denim, hovering over your own. Eddie leans forward to nudge your leg with his and you startle. 

“Hey, sweetheart.” Eddie does that signature smile of his, it almost fries your brain and you forget to react. 

“Oh my god, Eds!” It’s a blur of feathers when you leap from the small couch. Pushing your arms over his shoulders and leaning your whole weight into him. He almost topples when he wraps his own arms around your back. “Eddie,” 

Eddie’s mouth finds its home in the juncture of your neck like it always does, breathing in your lost scene and pressing his lips to your skin. “Y/N.”

He pulls away, but not before you give him one last squeeze, holding you out at arm's length. “God, baby. You look so fucking hot,” he groans. 

You turn your hips until your skirt swishes, “You think?” 

Eddie reaches around to fiddle with one of the feathers, smoothing it out between his thumb and pointer. “Shit, yeah.”

“Where’s your costume?” you ask, poking him in the chest until he rocks on the balls of his feet. Heavy boots thump along with the bass of the music. 

“I’m in it,” he laughs. 

“Yeah?” 

Eddie swishes like you did but the only thing that moves is his leather jacket that stiffly flaps around his waist, “Yeah. Your boyfriend.”

You roll your eyes like you’re actually not amused by his answer, “You wear that every day.” 

“Well, you haven’t seen me in it for an entire week.” He leans in to peck your cheek. Twice for good measure. You grasp his jacket in firm hands and hold him close.

You hum, “Yeah. Missed you.” 

Eddie leans in again to snake his arms around to give your ass a squeeze, bunching your skirt in his hands. You’ve forgotten where you are for a moment when he says, “Wanna show me how much you missed me?” 

Pretending to act like you don’t want Eddie more than anything at this moment would be harder than telling him exactly what you want — so you don’t. You run a hand down his chest, over the cotton of his shirt, feeling the bumps and divots tentatively until your reach his waist. Hooking a finger around a belt loop to tug him closer. 

“I think I do.” you smile. 

Eddie groans, “Shit,” 

You can’t even pretend to be surprised at how quickly it takes Eddie to drag you to the nearest bathroom. His insatiable need has you giggling the entire way there. Pushing through strangers and ignoring the pointed look Robin shoots you from the bottom of the stairs.

Once you’re inside, Eddie fumbles with the lock on the door while you tug at his free arm, “C’mon, Eds,” you whine.

Eddie cheers when he gets the door to lock, turning to lift you up and onto the basin. The ceramics are cold where it touches the bare skin on your legs and you gasp. Eddie is quick to catch any noise with his mouth when he leans in to kiss you.

“Fuck,” kiss, “angel,” kiss, “you look so hot.”

Your laughter peels from within you and you’re huffing into his mouth, “I thought I was the one who was supposed to be showing you how much I missed you.”

He pulls away to lift your skirt up so it pools around your waist, tugging your panties down until they stretch over your knees, “Just sit there looking all pretty, that’s enough for me, baby.”

Eddie lets you do as you please, placing a firm grip to stable yourself on his shoulders when he traces the tip of his finger up your slit. Grazing down to your entrance to gather the slick that’s already begun to pool on the counter.

“So messy,” he coos, exploring with his finger to push through your pudgy folds, “Missed this pussy, angel.” 

You lean forward to press the top of your head into his shoulder, wrapping a hand around his bicep. When he finally slips a finger inside you, you let out the tiniest gasp and your hand tightens in its grip until the leather of his jacket squeaks. 

You angle your head up to leave a line of lazy kisses along his neck. Your hot breath and tiny gasps are a whisper against Eddie’s skin. He pushes a second finger in, now middle and marriage, and you hiccup against his skin. Eddie pushes in further, determined to get you to make more pretty noises that get him all worked up. 

“Eds,” you pant uselessly. More tiny gasps. 

“Y/N,” he almost mocks, exploring deeper inside your weeping hole. Slick traces down his palm and threatens to dirty his sleeve. If Eddie has ever cared about that, he’s never shown it. 

You rock your hips against the bench to try and get closer to his hand, his palm pushing into your clit. The stickiness of his thumb and pinky thudding against your skin echo in the tiny bathroom. 

Eddie can sense your neediness, “Slow down, baby.” 

You grip the hair around the base of his neck which only causes him to groan out. “Need,” you pant. 

“What d‘you need, hmm?” Eddie asks, pulling back to check you over. Using his free hand to brush the hair from your eyes. You blink at him slowly. 

“Fuck me, Eddie. Please.” Your eyes are terribly pleading and Eddie stills, deep-seated inside you. “Missed you- need you, Eds.” 

Eddie can see you working yourself up and kisses you on the highest part of your cheek. Pulling his hand from you he says, “Yeah? Need my cock?” 

“Please.” 

“You’re so, very polite,” he coos.

There’s a metal zzz of his zipper unravelling and the shushing of his jeans being pushed down just below his ass, before he’s tugging at his cock with familiarity. A familiarity that has your stomach aching. 

Eddie wraps his wet hand around the fat of your thigh to tug you closer to the edge of the basin and you yelp, bracing yourself on his chest. 

Once you’re close enough, the ruddy tip of his cock presses into your clit and you jolt, head lulling into the juncture of his neck. Eddie wraps his arms around your back and holds you close, dotting kisses over your clavicle. His teeth scrape and nip playfully until goosebumps raise your skin. 

“Ready?” he asks as he runs his cock down your slit to line up with your entrance. 

“Uh-“ you stutter, wrapping your legs around his waist, hooking your ankles together, “Uh-huh.” 

Eddie sinks in and you have to squeeze your eyes shut. “That’s it,” he groans, breath trembling, “Fuck.”

You squeeze him closer like it’s possible and gasp when the air is forced from your lungs at the proximity. Your hands tremble around stiff leather and your hips ache when he rocks in to the hilt. Filling you completely. 

“Ah — Eddie,” you gasp, harder when he’s rocking in stronger. 

Eddie starts to move, slow and tentatively, rolling his hips into your wet heat. Spreading your legs further apart and your underwear slips down onto the floor.

“Please,” you plead, “harder.” You dig your knees into his side. 

Eddie grips your thigh to hold it up and closer to him and when he feels as if he’s not hitting the right angle, he hooks his arms under both of your legs to lift you from the counter. 

Gasping, you sink down onto him, keeping your arms and ankles hooked around his body. 

Eddie moves to grasp at your ass, squeezing fat between his fingers to keep you upright. Lifting you up and you help him settle back down until you find a perfect rhythm. 

“So,” Eddie grunts, hard to be heard over the sounds of skin slapping and your pitched-up moans. You’re also lucky the music outside is loud enough to muffle anything. “so wet, sweetheart.” 

You hum what sounds like an uh-huh, trying your best to meet his movements. Eddie’s grip is tight and it stings. Pain turns to pleasure when he starts to hit the spongy spot deep inside you. 

Eddie’s doing his best to fuck you onto him. Especially when your pelvis burns and your arms ache, going limp against his frame. 

His grunts mix in with your Ah ah ah’s, Eddie has no free hands to smother your noises so he plants his lips to yours, catching any sounds. 

“Eddie,” you say against his lips, hot and wet, “M’gonna…” 

“Cum f’me, baby,” he says, speeding up. 

When he’s repeatedly hitting your sweet spot at the perfect rhythm, the coil in your core snaps, bleeding through your abdomen until you’re clamping around Eddie—tensing up in his hold. 

Weak and panty, Eddie throws you back down to the basin, hips stuttering inside you. 

“Fuck, where can I?” 

“Inside,” you say. No, beg. 

“You sure?” he groans. 

You nod your head, clamping your twitching walls around him and that’s all it takes. Dragging, now slowly through your gummy heat, his own cum sobbing from your hole when he’s finished. 

He’s pulling out, slowly when he watches your face crumple, keeping your legs hooked around his sides. Placing a wet kiss against your damp hairline, he says, “That was amazing- You’re amazing.” 

“I know,” you grin, resting your legs down until your knees click. 

“Mmm,” he kisses you again, “M’never leaving for that long, ever again.” 

“Never,” you agree. 

There’s a beat, that’s not very silent, filled with the party that’s still thrumming. Loud chants and chatter fill the bathroom from the crack under the door. 

“We should really go home,” he says. 

“I think so,” you hum, “I think I heard about ten people knocking on the door.”

“Shit,” Eddie snorts. 

“Shit.”

[nooshywrites]

so uhh it’s been almost over a month since i posted anything on here and i just wanted to apologize for not posting and leaving randomly. i’m trying my best to keep up with asks / dms / tags / replies and i’m sorry for not responding if you’ve dm’d or tagged me or sent something to my inbox. i just haven’t had the energy or motivation to reply to a lot of stuff lately. there are only certain people i’m actually talking to right now, which makes me feel like a really shitty person because i feel like i’m ignoring people who are trying to check up on me and make sure i’m okay. but thank you so much for the love and support, i genuinely appreciate it. i really miss being on here and interacting with you guys. it’s like 3am here and i’m really sleep deprived but i feel like you deserve an explanation, so i’m going to try my best to say everything best as i can.

so most of you following me know i just made this blog not that long ago because my old one was being attacked by some toxic fans from the creepypasta community and my account was deactivated by tumblr so i came here to continue writing. i posted like three things before deleting everything on my blog because i needed a break for my mental health. after my break i said i’d start posting again, which hasn’t happened.

maybe like a few weeks ago i had a falling out with one of my ‘friends’, who was a creepypasta content creator and one of my first friends on here. they convinced me to write stuff about my rewrites of the Laughing Jack story, but they became very toxic and narcissistic towards me. they insulted me trying to cover it up as helping me, and then tricked me into almost letting them use my rewrites of characters in a story they basically forced me into being okay with it when i wasn’t. they’ve had a big impact on my mental health, along with turning another of my friends against me for the purpose of getting back at me and fucking with my feelings because i left and they can’t walk all over me anymore and they aren’t happy about it. i won’t mention their name in this post because i don’t want to start anything up with them, to be honest i don’t want anything to do with them, but that’s one reason i haven’t been on here much.

i’ve also realized my passion for writing got mixed up with my need for acceptance and attention. i panicked whenever posts flopped and i didn’t get any notifications. i guess i’m just scared of not being wanted, my anxiety and depression and past abuse sort of mixes in with everything and hurts me a lot.

this is cheesy sounding as fuck but like, i feel like i live off your love and support. of course i’m doing this for fun and because it’s what makes me happy, but then i have days when i’m just so attention starved and i don’t have a lot of people to help me with that and so i come here to get the love and attention i desperately crave, and when i have days where i do nothing and receive nothing, it triggers some unhealthy feelings and episodes that hurt my mental progress. i feel like it’s unfair to you guys and that i failed you by not being here and not responding to asks and dms. i’m really sorry to those who have reached out to me. i wanted to respond asap but the days keep going by and i haven’t felt like i can keep up with anything.

so here’s my plan. i’m going to take an actual break for myself. i don’t know how long, maybe a few weeks or a month, to take care of myself and sort out my issues so i can be here and not feel shitty and be able to interact and be with you all like you deserve. because you guys literally deserve the world, especially @glassartpeasants and @immortal-velociraptor for sticking with me through all this. i love you guys so much and i’ll be back soon.

— 💕 Nooshy

[itsallyscorner]

For Tom x

Pairing: Tom Holland x singer!reader

Summary: You have a surprise for Tom:)

Warnings: none, just pure teeth rotting Fluff:)

A/n: Hello my loves! This is literally a rewrite because I accidentally deleted the original version of this story on Tumblr RIGHT before I was gonna post it😭 Anyway here it is, I hope you all like it! Ally x

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

look at my sunshine🥺

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

Your giggles filled the hallway as you lead Tom into your makeshift studio. Since you were quarantining with him and his mates in their shared home in London, you were miles away from your crew and studio. Which, yes, made it difficult to record an entire album on your own—but it did give you the creative freedom to do whatever you pleased for the album.

The boys had their own creative outlets; for example putting together a puzzle or having a movie marathon. While you found those activities enjoyable, the inner singer in you couldn’t stop thinking of beats or coming up with lyrics in your head. You needed the studio—you needed to bring those beats and lyrics to life before you could forget them. So with the help of the houses’ tech lord himself, Harry made it possible for you to have your own little studio in the spare guest room of the house. There, you spent endless days writing and recording things like harmonies and building melodies. Little did you know that this would lead to the creation of your sixth album. Now a couple months later, your latest album is currently in its final stages and would soon be released to the world.

Tom adoringly watched your figure, which was drowned in one of his oversized jumpers, excitedly skip towards the guest room. As soon as you were both inside, you rushed to close the door and eagerly pushed him to sit on the edge of the bed.

“What have you been up to, lovey?” He teasingly asks you. He knew you were up to something, he just didn’t know if it were bad or good.

Your figure was bent over the desk where your laptop was located. Turning over your shoulder you tell him, “It’s nothing bad, I promise!” You’re met with an amused grin on his blush pink lips.

Gathering your laptop into your arms, you move to sit beside Tom on the bed. He curiously leans forward, trying to get a glance at what’s on your screen.

“Nuh uh, it’s a surprise, Thomas.” You playfully scold him and gently push his face away from your laptop. He responds with a pout against your palm before pressing a kiss onto your skin. You continue to click around on your laptop, looking through your documents for the specific file.

Meanwhile, Tom shuffles further up the bed, getting comfortable. He notices the new distance between you and him and decides that he’s unsatisfied with the additional inches. He choses to snake his arms around your waist and lifts you up, happily placing you on the empty and lonely space on his lap. Laying down on his back, he takes a moment to admire the way you look in his jumper. It was a few sizes bigger than you and stopped right above your knees. The jumper may have looked good on him, but it looked absolutely perfect on you.

“You look so cute in my jumper.” He hums, hands lazily rubbing up and down your thighs. Your nose scrunches up as you lightly slap his chest; your silent way of saying “shut up” whenever Tom would say something that made you blush.

You finally find the file you were looking for and place your laptop on your lap. You nervously glance at your screen, biting down on your lip out of habit.

“Ok, so I did something.” You started. Tom squints his eyes at you, “That sounds like the beginning of a really bad something.”

You huff, “I just told you it wasn’t anything bad! Do you want your surprise or not?”

Tom chuckles and grasps onto your thighs, “Yes—yes, sorry, keep going.”

“So you know how I’ve already finished my album?” You question him. Tom nods, staring up at you while you sit on his thighs.

“Well, I wrote a few more songs that were supposed to be on the album. But I don’t know, I felt a bit greedy and decided to keep them for myself.” You explain. Tom raises a brow at you, “Baby, you don’t have to feel guilty about keeping songs to yourself. If you don’t want to share them, you don’t have to.”

“No, it’s just that, they’re about you.” You pause, staring down at your fingers that fiddled together. “Like I wrote them specifically for you to listen to. I wanted to include them on the album, but it just didn’t feel right to share something that was meant only for you.”

You place your laptop on the bed and turn it so the screen is facing Tom.

“So...as a solution, I made you your own album.” You were too busy avoiding his stare, that you missed the twinkle in Tom’s coffee colored orbs. He carefully sits up, his arms around you getting tighter, as he pulls you closer into his chest. Tom ducks his head down to yours, nudging your nose with his to get you to look at him. When your eyes finally meet, the lopsided grin on his features grows wider.

“You made me my own album?”

“Yeah.” You shyly answer. Tom softly coos at you, cupping your face and pressing a chaste kiss onto both of your cheeks.

“You are the most precious thing in the world, sunshine, I swear.” He squishes your cheeks together and began to cover your face with butterfly like kisses. Sweet laughs erupt from you, the sounds making Tom’s heart swell.

You stuff your face in the space between his neck and shoulder, using it as a place to hide from his lips. Instead, Tom opts to lay his kisses along the side of your face, your neck, and your shoulder.

“Lemme kiss you!” He whines. You chuckle at him, finally moving away from his neck. His attention darts towards your lips more than once, prompting you to lean forward and connect them with his. Tom’s lips were soft against yours, like clouds or cushiony pillows. The kiss was short and sweet; though it didn’t prevent you from feeling the adoration and passion he felt for you in that moment. In fact, he felt it all the time, but right now, his love for you was coursing through his veins.

He finally pulls away, leaving the taste of him linger in your mouth. “Can I have a listen?” He motions his head towards your laptop beside him.

“Go ahead.” Tom’s arms unravel from your waist, the area they once occupied left cold and yearning for his warmth. He uses one of his elbows to hold himself up and the other to control the touchpad. His eyes scan the file.

For Tom x

someone like u

test drive

worst behavior

main thing

He glances at you, “I start with ‘someone like u’, right?” You reply with a quiet “mhm”.

Tom clicks on the link. The opening notes of ‘someone like u’ begin to play followed by your angelic voice. You hear him release a content sigh, making a small smile to form on your lips. His arms make their way around you again, this time holding you closer against him. He rests his head on your chest and sneakily presses a kiss onto your neck. You fondly run a hand through his curly hair and rest your chin on the top of his head, listening to the songs you’ve made for him.

The two of you listen through the album in one go with no stops. You found joy in Tom’s reactions towards every song. Sometimes he would make little comments or sounds of shock whenever he heard you hit a certain note. He nodded along to the beats of ‘test drive’ and ‘worst behavior’, dancing around in his seat and making you join him. This time, you didn’t miss the twinkle in his eyes when he listened closely to the lyrics. ‘Main thing’ got him the most, leaving him with a goofy-lovesick grin plastered onto his face.

When ‘main thing’ came to a close, the room became silent, leaving Tom enough time to process the four songs you wrote about him and the meanings behind them.

You were the first to speak, “So did you like it?” You scan his face looking for any signs of dislike.

Tom’s eyes widen, “Are you kidding me? That was bloody fantastic—that was the most amazing thing I’ve ever heard! I’m obsessed with it, oh my god!” He expressed, arms moving around as he spoke.

His face was radiating with happiness, “You are the most talented and loving woman in the world. And I honestly don’t know what I did to deserve you or your love—but I just love you so fucking much.”

“I love you so fucking much too, you dork.” You laugh, pecking his lips.

“No, but seriously, thank you so much. I know you’re used to writing songs, but the fact that you actually took the time to write songs about me means a lot. They’re just a bunch of songs, but they mean the world to me and I cherish each and every one of them.” He admits, taking one of your hands and placing it onto his heart. Your palm feels the faint rhythm of his heart beating against his chest.

You tilt your head at him, mirroring the smile on his face, “I’ll always write songs about you. You somehow manage to inspire them anyway.”

Tom smirks, “Well I am Tom Holland.” You snort and roll your eyes at his humble brag.

“You’re still a dork, Tommy.” You comment.

Tom shrugs, “I’m a special dork because I’m your dork. Therefore making me superior to the other existing dorks—there’s a difference, darling.”

“And where did you come up with this hypothesis, Mr. Holland?” You question him, playing along with his antics.

“It’s Tom’s Theory.” He answers with feign seriousness. You burst out laughing, “Oh is it?”

Tom leans down to your laptop and restarts his album. “Yes, and now Tom’s Theory, believes that we should listen to the album again until I learn all the lyrics to every single song.” He proclaims.

“Babe, you don’t have to—” Tom stops you, “I’m dead serious.”

It was going to be a long night.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

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Tom Holland + characters Taglist

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[julemmaes]

Let Me In - October 2nd

Nesta Archeron x Cassian

Prompt sent by @noorismee (I’m sorry Tumblr kinda sucks and deleted the ask, I hope it’s just a one-time thing cause I could go insane)

“I didn’t get soaked wet through walking to your house for you to say no to pizza. I have beer too. I know you’re sad, so let me in.”

A/N: This was so cute to write and I really really miss my friends right now, cause I’ve just started uni and I don’t understand how many things works so I haven’t seen them in a very long time and writing about them is always kinda emotional. I hope y’all enjoy!

p.s. yesterday I made a mistake, cause I put the acotar general tag list instead of the tog one, so, sorry for the ones who found themselves there eheh

Word count: 2,587

Nesta wanted to cry. She wanted to cry so bad.

She had tried to take this exam four times in the last year. Twice in the winter session and twice in the summer one. Everyone had reassured her that the fifth time would be the good one, that this time she would be able to pass it with full marks.

"I'm sure you'll be the best in the class." Elain had told her only the day before.

So when she had arrived home, today, and had opened the email with the rankings and saw that she had failed again, she had screamed in frustration.

She grunted and dropped her head on the table, banging her forehead hard enough on the wood to make a loud thump. She rubbed her hands over her eyes, yawning and jerking when a flash of lightning lit the room as if it were daytime. She put her hands over her ears, waiting for the thunder and staring at the raindrops racing on the window glass, and when the noise stopped, she started reading one of the billions of theorems she had been studying for months.

She turned the pages until she found the chapter on the Fourier series and started to rewrite everything she needed to assimilate every little connotation of the theory so that she could apply it in practice.

She had been flipping through the book for hours, writing things and doing calculations that she knew by heart now. How was it possible that she knew everything so perfectly when she was at home and when she found herself in front of the test sheet, she forgot the logic behind it?

She picked up the phone to see the time and saw that it was ten forty-nine. She would not go to sleep until she had solved all the problems in the book.

A message appeared on the screen just as she was about to turn it off and she raised an eyebrow seeing who the sender was.

She had immediately informed him when she knew that she had failed the exam again, but then she hadn't waited for an answer and had put her phone aside.

Scrolling through the dozens of notifications - most of them from her best friend - she saw messages from her classmates asking her if she had passed.

When she got to the bottom of the list, she grimaced.

‘Did you eat?’

And a few minutes later, ‘Nesta?’

‘If you don't answer me within an hour and a half, I'm coming to your place.’

And then, exactly ninety minutes later, he had sent another message saying: ‘You asked for it. I'll be at your's in twenty minutes, half an hour max.’ followed by a strangely threatening text, ‘I'm pissed.’

Nesta grinned, muttering to herself, "Joke's on you, I won't open the door." and returned without too much thought to her math book.

Five minutes passed before she heard someone aggressively knocking on the door. She sighed, lifting her eyes from the numbers and pondering whether it was better to let him in or let him die outside in the cold and frost. She was about to get up, tell him that he should leave, when Cassian knocked harder on the door. She frowned.

"Arche! Open the fucking door, I'm freezing out here!" shouted the boy. Nesta laughed, looking at him through the peephole and leaning her hip against the wall.

She spoke loudly enough so that Cassian could hear her through the door, "And don't you think you should have asked my permission before coming here and busting my balls?"

She heard him snort and could imagine him closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose, "Nesta, please," he seemed exasperated, "open this door and let me feed you."

Nesta raised an eyebrow, chuckling, "Feed me? What am I? A dog?"

"No, you idiot." he laughed on the other side, then, in a more serious tone he asked, "Have you eaten something?"

Nesta hesitated, "Sure."

"I can hear the bullshit from here." a little pause, "Come on, open up."

She opened the door slightly, watching him step forward and Nesta closed the door ajar, shaking her head, "Cassian I have to study." if she had let him in she wouldn't have been able to do anything.

His hair was damp and his usually dark-grey jacket was now black.

"Cassian," he repeated in a mocking tone and making a disgusted face, "what? Are you mad?"

She shook her head puffing, tapping her foot on the ground repeatedly. He followed the movement with his eyes. Looking back at her face, he said, "Even if you were, you wouldn't have the right to. I'm not the one who ignored his best friend all day." he put one hand on the door and pushed it, holding the pizza with the other.

When Nesta struggled to keep it closed again, Cassian laughed. They both knew very well that if he wanted to force his way into her apartment, he would have no problem doing so.

He took one look at her and made what she called whipped-dog-eyes, "I didn't get soaked wet through walking to your house for you to say no to pizza. I have beer too. I know you're sad, so let me in." She noticed only in that moment the bag hanging from his fingers. She leaned forward to help him hold it. She hated plastic bags so much, they always stretched out to cut off her hands when she had to carry them around.

Then she metabolized his words and opened her eyes wide, "Did you come on foot?"

She opened the door, stepped aside and let him in. Cassian trotted into the apartment, shaking his jacket off and passing the pizza to her, who moved so as not to get wet, "Are you crazy? It's four degrees outside and it's pouring."

He looked so pleased to finally be inside the house that he didn't seem to hear her.

Nesta placed the food and beer on the kitchen table, careful not to wet the books. She hurried to put everything aside and when Cassian came in and saw what she was doing she tightened her jaw. Nesta noticed.

"What?" she asked abruptly, "Everyone has their problems. You are a fool for leaving the house at ten o'clock without an umbrella and walking for half an hour in the middle of a storm and I am trying to make sure I have a future by studying, and if I have to do it in the evening, that's not going to stop me".

Cassian shrugged, "Az stole my umbrella and my mom needed the car."

A twinge of pain tightened her heart.

She shook her head, "Wait here, I'll go get you a dry sweatshirt, I should have one of yours."

He nodded and Nesta saw him as he started cutting the pizza, taking what necessary and setting the table. When he came back he was shirtless and was rattling his hair, squeezing it into the sink.

She froze on the kitchen door, admiring how the muscles on his back tensed with every slightest movement. It was not the first time she saw him without clothes, there had been many occasions, but it was rare for him to undress in front of her in such intimate surroundings. She cleared her voice, drawing Cassian's attention.

He turned towards her, smiling at her and Nesta thought she was going to die. It wasn't the usual cocky smile he usually gave everyone, it was sweet and sincere. She handed him the sweatshirt without saying anything and sat down.

The first bite of pizza - although it was gummy and cold - was an explosion of happiness in her stomach. She closed his eyes, moaning and took another bite out of the slice. Cassian sniggered, watching her as she finished her first slice.

"Geez, it's so good," said Nesta, with her mouth full of food. Cassian had an amused expression on his face. He nodded his head to the cartoon, "Have some more."

Nesta didn't hesitate and threw herself on the pizza, filling her plate. They ate in silence, enjoying each other's company. She thanked him only when she had cleaned the plate with the last crumb. He had belittled the whole thing by waving his hand mid-air, just saying that she didn't need to thank him, that it was his job to make sure she survived through this exam session.

When Cassian leaned forward on the table to grab a bottle of beer, Nesta stood up, grabbed the bottle opener and handed it to him. He was about to open the second one, when Nesta stopped him, "I'm not going to drink Cass, as soon as you leave I'll go back to studying and you know what alcohol does to me."

Cassian laughed and opened it anyway, pushing it towards her, "Come on Arche," she did not move and looked him in the eyes more serious than ever, "if you put it like that," he took back the beer and the smile died on his lips. He moved his gaze toward the window, "But I'm not leaving".

She moaned, "What the fuck, Cass." she put her hand in her hair, raising one leg and putting her foot on the chair, leaning her chin against her knee.

"I'm not leaving and I don't want to hear your lame excuses about why I can't stay" he looked at her and the worry in his features made Nesta stand at attention.

His tone became more gentle, "What happened today?"

She wiggled her head for the millionth time, frowning, "What do you mean? Nothing happened," and before he could answer her, she added, "except that I failed the mathematical analysis exam for the fifth time."

"Nes..." he passed his hand through his hair, unwinding it and dropping little water left and right. His eyes never left her face, looking for any sign that would give away her apparent calm.

"Cass." she repeated with the same tone. How could he be so good at reading through the lines? Lines that she hadn't even written, considering how good she had been at ignoring him all day long. She figured, that was also a clear sign that something was wrong.

Not even Tomas, her boyfriend, could understand that something was wrong and she had explicitly texted him "I don't feel very well, I'd rather be alone for today" to which he replied with a simple "Ok, talk to you tomorrow".

Maybe he didn't even care what was bothering his girlfriend so much. Surely he would have been angry, though, when he found out that Cassian had spent the night on her couch.

Cassian sighed, also putting down his beer, "You know, you need to talk about anything, I'm always here."

Nesta felt a lump forming in her throat, so she nodded weakly, not trusting her voice.

He looked into her eyes for a few more seconds and when she could no longer hold his gaze, she turned to her books, staring at the sheets of paper that came out of the pages.

"So," said Cassian, changing the subject for her sake, "what don't you understand about mathematical analysis?

She turned to him in surprise, "These aren't things you would understand."

She wasn't trying to insult him or make him feel less intelligent than she were, but the subjects that were studied in the third year of a math degree course required a broad knowledge of previous subjects. Subjects that Cassian would never have even approached while studying foreign languages and literatures.

"Oh, I know, I don't have a sufficiently developed brain for those things, but you need to be distracted and since you want to study so much, maybe you could repeat it to me." he smiled at her, getting up and standing in front of her, pointing to the living room with a nod of his chin, "Couch?

Nesta stared at him, wondering how it was possible that Cassian was her friend. She nodded, following him into the living room and sitting in front of him, her legs bent under her.

The second she opened the book, the black letters on the white pages seemed to cross over. They seemed to dance, not allowing her to read. She would have been able to explain it without reading, but fatigue was taking over. She closed the book, staring at the cover.

"Everything okay?" he asked with a hint of concern in his tone.

Nesta closed her eyes, carrying a hand over her eyes. Her breath started to tremble. She did not want to cry.

She felt Cassian move on the couch and then he hugged her, "Sweetheart?" he stroked her hair, while Nesta took the book out from among them and dropped it on the floor. She clutched to his chest and took a deep breath. The warmth of him seemed to relax her little or nothing and Nesta only wanted to stop feeling this icy cold that seemed to have been poured into her bones.

"I miss my mom," she whispered.

She heard Cassian swallowing, "I figured," he said in an equally silent tone, holding her tighter, "It's normal Arche, her anniversary is approaching."

Right. The anniversary of Amanda Archeron's death would be in a couple of weeks.

Nesta was convinced that Tomas couldn't even remember the month of her mother's death.

"She was so good. She graduated on time. She did everything perfectly. And I'm here and I can't pass this stupid exam," she said against his chest. Her mother went to the same university, she attended classes in the same halls. She had graduated with the highest grades.

Cassian moved slightly, placing his hand on one of her cheeks, caressing her just under the eye. He had a determined look in his eyes and when he spoke, Nesta knew she wouldn't be able to talk back.

"You managed to get this far for a reason. You are not stupid and the test you are trying to take is not easy. Your mother was a genius, it's true, and I understand that you think you are expected to do the same, but no one is going to use such a thing against you," he reassured her. "We are all on your side. The only one who doesn't believe in you, it seems, is also the only one who should." he smiled sweetly at her.

Nesta moved, fleeing that touch so familiar, so comforting.

"I'm sorry." she murmured.

Cassian was still hugging her, "For what?"

"For making you worry, I should have called you and told you right away. You wouldn't have had to come all the way here." she looked him in the face and found an amused expression there.

"I would have come anyway, Nes. Only sooner."

She smiled at him and hugged him again.

They watched an action movie until two in the morning, hugging on her couch. They didn't go to class the next day, staying locked in the house, eating all the junk they had managed to buy on their little trip to the mini market down the street.

Cassian had also managed to convince her not to touch the books for the day and it had taken a while for her to accept.

She just needed her person.

Looking to her right, she stretched her feet over his lap and he smiled at her.

She was kinda screwed.

acotar tag list (if you wanna be added/removed just send an ask or dm me)

@tottenhamboys20 @sjm-things @kris10maas @awesomelena555 @sannelovesreading @queenamydien29 @ireallyshouldsleeprn @messyhairday-me @ncssian @observationanxioustheorist @my-fan-side @booksstorm @maastrash @sayosdreams @thedarkdemigod @courtofjurdan @thewayshedreamed @ladywitchling @nahthanks

[inactive-shroomiehomie]

K!nktober Bingo Pt. 1

Square: Vibrator Warnings: NSFW (obviously) Pairing: Nevada Ramirez x Reader Word Count: 1257

A/N: Hey hey! This is my first ever smut! I hope it’s to everyone’s liking. Also, apologies for being so late, tumblr decided it was going to delete the first one of these from my drafts so I had to rewrite the WHOLE THING. Anyway, feedback is always appreciated and happy reading!

It irritated you. Nevada hadn’t touched you in over a week now. He’s either away on business or busy getting drunk at his club. At first you suspected that he had been getting his sexual fill from someone else, but Miguel reassured you he hadn’t been. The man is at his side constantly, so who better to ask than Miguel? Plus, if you asked Nevada directly, that would be an instant fight. So, you devised a plan.

Nevada told you he was going to be early today after a lunch meeting. Which left you with plenty of time to pick up one of his favorite bottles of whiskey,go pick out a new lingerie set and make a stop by your local adults-only store. Walking in there was enough to make you blush. You kept your head down as you browsed through, trying to find the perfect thing for tonight. 

When you reached the vibrators, something caught your eye. In a tightly sealed package, there was a bright orange egg with a long wire at the end. And attached to the other end of the wire- a remote. You pulled the package off the shelf and brought it up to the counter. You payed for it without even glancing at the cashier and made your way back home. 

Nevada better pay attention to you tonight.

-

While looking at yourself in the bathroom mirror, you adjusted the way your brassier sat on your chest and fluffed out the fringe on the sides of your panties. The white lace leaving nothing to the imagination. You didn’t bother with too much makeup, just some mascara to highlight your eyes and a light brown lipstick. 

As you adjusted your hair, you heard the door open and slam shut.

“Mami, I’m here.”

You cursed under your breathe, not expecting him to be back so early. You double checked everything one last time and exited the bathroom.

When you entered the living room, you found Nevada looking at the bottle of whiskey you bought him. He obviously hadn’t saw you yet, because he started pouring himself a glass. 

“Hey ‘Vada.”

“Hey, where were y-”

The look on his face when he turned around went from relaxed to almost feral. You slowly strolled over to him, every small step you took you made sure to drag out. Nevada eyed your chest, watching the way it moved every time you did. When you reached him, you pushed your hands from his stomach and up to his chest. His hands went right to your hips, still trying to take you all in.

“Oi, carino, what’s the occasion?” He breathed out, leaning his face closer to yours.

“No special occasion.” You breathed back, leaning into him as well but moving your face to his neck. You kissed his pulse point, making him moan low in his chest. “I’ve just really missed you lately. And now that you’re finally here...”

You lifted your head up from his neck and Nevada groans in annoyance. His large hand went straight to your ass and squeezed hard. You bit your lip to suppress a moan, looking him dead in the eye as you did.

“I’m gonna show you what else I bought for us today.”

��Oh yeah?” He asked, as if begging for you to tell him more right then and there.

You took his hand off of your ass and dragged him into your shared bedroom. On the way he started to shrug off his clothes, obviously making sure to throw his signature jacket over a chair before working on his belt. You let go of his hand when you hit the bed and turned around to him.

“Close your eyes, ‘Vada. If you wanna see the surprise.” You cooed.

He rolled his eyes but closed them anyway. You took out the bag from the store and started to unwrap the vibrator. You popped the battery in that came with it and stuck it into Nevada’s hand. As soon as you did, he opened his eyes. Once he realized what it was, he licked his lips.

“Thought you would like that.” You laid back on the bed and spread your legs apart, rubbing your fingers over your clothed core. “You got full power over me, Papi.”

“When do I not?” He growled, peeling off his shirt and crawling to you on the bed. 

Nevada leaned down, biting the waistband of your panties and pulling them down to your knees. The whole way down, his gaze never left yours. You made an audible whimper, rubbing yourself even more.

“You just can’t wait, huh? My baby’s so impatient.” He made sure to leave a trail of kisses and bites up your body as he inched back up. “You’re already so fucking wet for me.”

“Well that’s what happens when you ignore me for so long..” You moaned out, hand flying to grip at his hair.

Nevada caught your hand and glared at you. You looked up at him and bit your lip. Striked a nerve, didn’t you?

“Ignore you?” He laughed softly in disbelief, “Oh, carino, qué equivocado estás.” 

Nevada pressed your arm into the mattress and pressed his fingers into you. With how wet you were, he slipped right in and boy did he hit the right spot. Your back arched and your jaw dropped in a silent scream. He started at a slow but pressured pace, almost rocking into you. And with every thrust of his fingers he continuously grazed the spot that could have you over the edge and he knew it.

“’Vadaaaaa..” You cried, your free hand gripping the sheets so hard you thought they tore.

“Go ahead, baby, scream my name.”

After a couple more thrusts he removed his fingers, making you whine at his absence. 

“Don’t you worry, I’m not ignoring you. Nevada taunted, bringing your words back up from earlier before sticking the vibrator into you. You hummed lowly at the way it filled you. It felt amazing, but it was nothing compared to Nevada himself.

Without even giving warning he flicked the switch on the remote and the egg started to vibrate inside of you. You didn’t even realize how deep it was until it powered on. You started to squirm in pleasure, making Nevada move his hand to your hips to hold you in place. You cooed and moaned, arms flailing in the sheets for something solid to grab on.

“You look so beautiful like this, you know that?” Nevada crawled on top of you, his face hanging over your chest.

He slid your bra straps down your shoulders and latched himself onto one of your nipples. The overload of pleasure made you squeak in surprise, especially when he bit down. It wasn’t enough to cause serious pain, but the mixture of sensations was enough to bring you to the edge.

“Nevadaaa... I’m so close...” You whimpered, your mascara building up under your bottom lid.

“Go ahead, let it go, Mami.”

You shoved your hands into his hair and gripped him against your chest. As your nails dug into his head the knot in your stomach unraveled and you came hard, shuddering against Nevada.

As you came down from your orgasm, Nevada removed himself from your grasp and turned the vibrator off. He sat back on his haunches and watched you; Panting and whimpering. He reached into his underwear and gripped himself, a the sides of his lips tweaking up a bit.

“Now it’s my turn to show you what I got for you.”

- - - - - Tags: @thatesqcrush​

[shadowdianne]

Alright, so @delirious-comfort tagged me in something about wips and SHAME. That's what I got. Sure there was something else thrown in there but bottom line: shame! xD She, brilliantly, went for WIPS in the sense of works that have never seen the light and who knows if they ever will -please, I want to know what half of them are about, you evil- Since that's basically impossible on my end of things I'm just gonna go for unfinished stories and call it a day since they are -technically- works in progress

Painted Voices -SQ- Oh boy, 2015. I don't even remember what I wanted to do with this one. It was at the time there were a bunch of stories with either one of them being blind or deaf and I tried to jump into that. I'm ashamed of it and certainly will delete this because I'm sure it sucks and I was an idiot about the whole thing.

The recognizable stranger -SQ- 2015 as well... I remember this one. I have mixed feelings about this but I will simply state that I don't remember what I wanted to do with this one. I was the: What if these two met prior to the events of S1 that existed back in the day.

Words unsaid -SQ- Technically I wouldn't count this as a wip but A03 is marking it as such so I'm going to stick with it xD FixitFic. I used to do a bunch of those with every new episode or so. Eventually, however, I stopped writing them in a single series. I remember having someone telling me that it bothered them that I did it like that and so I started posting them as separate one-shots and I guess I forgot to close the thread of this one.

The missing page -SQ- 2015 againnn, honestly, I don't remember what I wanted to do here. I believe it was about Regina going back into the book or in time and just seeing things from an outside perspective. It was also the time when writing Daniel and Emma as the same person -sometimes Emma having Daniel's soul within her some other times in a more convoluted way- was a thing. So if I remember correctly this was my take to that.

A forgotten promise -SQ- The witcher au before the witcher turned mainstream xD Ah, I'd have loved to finish this one. It required a lot of work and I was in the middle of my uni years and the feedback was... uh. Let's go with uh, so I started to have second thoughts, think it was rubbish and halted it altogether. [For context sake the small amount of ego I DO have tells me to point out I was churning 4 to 7 prompts per day at the same time] I would probably erase it entirely if I tried to do anything with it now so I'll just leave it there.

It feels like magic -SQ- Ohhh, remember when we all did magic realism? I loved that. On this one Regina was transformed into a cat because things and the story revolved around Emma buying her as her familiar. It has 13k posted but I think I wrote like 30k beyond what I ended up posting. Same story: I started to think it was shit; cornered myself into a panic attack and never finished it xD Tag yourself: Dianne doesn't end up their wips edition

Sateen memories -SQ- No fucking clue what that one was about

I'm not afraid of the dark -Princess Rover- It was going to be a rewrite of a bunch of lore back in the Shannara Chronicles all the while shitting on canon and the books but didn't happen.

What you want -SQ- Emma is the Dark One, Hypersexualization of the character. If you have heard me rant loud enough you know I prefer teasing. I got bored.

Nothing is true, everything's permitted.-SQ- The AC au! I also have mixed feelings about this one due to THINGS. It involved lots of studying because I wanted to make an accurate enough portrait of the historical momentum I was writing about. This was in 2017 so whilst I don't remember exactly I know I was working two jobs plus uni so yeah, nah, I didn't have the mind to write more than the prompts I was doing at the time xD

There is no hex or spell I could unlearn with you by my side -SQ- The HP AU. I basically stopped due to -points at JKR- and that it was a series of drabbles so it was linked to the amount of prompts. I remember it was the time Tumblr did an inbox purge, lots like half the prompts, most of them for ever so... it just sits there.

Of magic and prowess -SQ- Steampunk! It was supposed to be the second part of And the cogs are ticking if I'm remembering correctly. Very short and sweet, 5 chapters. I got 11 eleven kudos, 2 comments, about 15 asks stating that they rather wanted me to keep writing prompts than whatever I was doing with this and I said fuck it. Yeah, yeah, the vitriol I have inside is not lost to me.

Tiny nothings -SQ- Same thing as some fics above this one. I started doing lost moments but I ended up migrating it to single oneshots. This one is set in S6 so added to the previous explanation I would also add the: S6 was a pain, one.

Hidden truths -Rizzles- It was a prompt(?) but I was never too sure about my ability to write Maura and my brain shortcircuited.

Deipnon -SQ- Actually this one is co-written. Life happened. Nothing more. -I hope you are doing good Eva, love you lots-

Lost words -SQ- One word prompts. Same story than before really: I wrote them solely on tumblr, someone told me to re-post them on a03, I did, I then got anons telling me that it bothered them, stopped altogether.

The miller's daughter -SQ- Ohhh, I used to love this one. Rewriting of... something I guess xD Enchanted Forest based, total AU but trying to give a Grimm-esque perspective. 2016... who knows what I did xD Again, overworked is the answer.

But I know this night you will come -SQ- Well, actually this one was a trio if I'm remembering correctly... yeah, Regina, Red, Emma. Dunno, is this time to state that I've discovered I'm demi? lol. I'm not sex-repulsed but it bores me to tears writing about it. Give me teasing and I will write a full novella out of it. But sex is *yawn* for me when writing about it.

Ghost of you -SQ- Ohhh Emma!ParanormalInvestigator! I have a bunch of those. There was a mirror, a very angry Queen and far too much worldbuilding to fit into a tiny story. Yeah, I also see that pattern xD

Arcadia -SQ- The only fic I will ever be ashamed that I didn't finish to the point of self-destruction. I actually wrote it, I then lost the files, corrupted, gone, puff. But then I didn't rewrite it and then I felt self-conscious and then... shame.

Beyond -SQ- 2019 Probably one of the last de facto prompts I accepted. I wasn't feeling all that good about my writing. I think I was basically trying to jump start something that had died. I would have loved to finish it. Honestly.

Annnd, that's it! Tagging @rubikanon for this one <3

[soft-black-teabag]

You do know that minors follow you, right? I don't think the conversation you were having earlier was quite....appropriate

Now, I really appreciate when people point out my flaws, like, I really do, because it gives me the opportunity to get better and I am so so thankful for it.

But like, just...give me a break?

Like, it's not even the first time someone says I'm inappropriate but let's talk about what is inappropriate about me:

I know, I use a lot of bad words, but I swear that especially when talking to the younger of us, I try to avoid them if not...extremely necessary to make my sentences hilarious.

Smuts? I even stopped reblogging them on my main account, but I still reblog them on my side blog because authors needs reblogs, they needs to be shown to others and some smut writers are my friend, I can't just stop supporting them out of the blue, I can't and I won't.

Inappropriate conversation? I am used to do a lot of dumb jokes when I'm with my friend, but now I reduced them drastically where I am on tumblr, I even try to stop the babies when they try to make me have an hard-stan crisis, I swear that I literally avoid them the most I can or write some things in the tags.

But like, yeah, they are minors, some things are not appropriate for them but, like, this is my blog? And there are my friends?

I love all of my babies with my whole heart and I want to make it a safe place for all my babies, but, please, I am begging you, tumblr is supposed to be my safe place too.

This is supposed to be the place where I can feel safe too, this is supposed to be the place where I can feel free to say my opinions, this is supposed to be the place where I can just be myself and stop worrying about others, but now people come here and tells me that I shouldn't talk like that, I shouldn't reply like that, I should do this, I should do that.

I am not a public figure, I am just a fucking seventeen years old girl, flash news, I have flaws, I make errors, I talk dirty, I am not perfect, I have insecurities and even if I know that you didn't mean to hurt or make me angry and I'm just being an extra dramatic bitch, but, we were literally talking about the crotch of a guy because he posted a photo where it was the only thing you could see.

We were just joking about him posting a pic that had fuckboy vibes and they were just joking around with me like they always do, I answered in a sarcastic weird way, paraphrasing the phrase in a confusing way because it was 2 am and it got weirder that it should have.

Now really, I really really want to accept criticism and grown and all, but I don't...I don't even know why you criticize me so much for it, I really don't want to sound like an asshole but if someone doesn't like the topic they could just scroll past? Or if I really am that bad you can unfollow me.

And I really hope this doesn't sounds aggressive, because it's not supposed to be aggressive, but I'm really tired, full of stress, and you have no idea how many times I deleted and rewrite this, while I'm supposed to be listening to the physic teacher.

Did I went overload? Yes, totally yes

So yeah, sorry anon, I'm probably going to delete this later

[ahumansvoid]

The unofficial Follow up

Tumblr is a fucking nightmare. It deleted this entire thing when I edited the fucking tags.

Anywho.  This is a follow up to Commander Fox Deal With A lot which itself is a follow up to my Interviews fic. 

I call it unofficial because a) I’m not sure if this is really how it’ll go within the Interviews Universe and b) If this happens in the Interviews Universe, it’d be after the Anakin follow up (That I am still writing, Anakin doesn’t like me okay? He’s a dama bitch whenever I try) Hence I’m not putting it up on AO3 right now.

But I still want to share it because idk how long the Anakin follow up is gonna take and I like what I wrote. And am rewriting this verbatim because someone reblogged this so thank you because I didn’t want to figure out what the fuck I wrote up here.

Also, if you don’t want to read those two fics but want to try this one out, all you really need to know is that the Coruscant Guard has become a Daycare. Other than that, this is a pretty independent work.

Now Idk what I wrote down here so bear with me if you’re rereading this after April 4th because this has some slight changes I’m sure. Also. I edited the thing here so, let’s hope I remember my edits.

Characters: Commander Fox, Clone OCs

Words: 870 (or somewhere around there)

Warnings: Mentioned Character Death.

Mando’a translations:

Vod -> Brother

Di’kut -> idiot (lit. someone who forgets to put on their pants)

Utreekov -> idiot, fool, emptyheaded

Gar mirsh solus* -> your brain cell is lonely

Jorbe** -> Reason

Ade -> child

*The one on Mandoa.org is actually Kaysh mirsh solus (His brain cell is lonely) but Gar means your and I figured it’d work. Let me know if it doesn’t.

**Yes I named a clone ‘Reason’ in Mandoa. Take a guess at what’s notable about him.

Now the story

“Explain. Now.” Fox really wanted to know what Ink and Hive were thinking. 

Both troopers shuffle a bit, glancing at each other, before Hive starts talking, “So, the safety lady came by to check if our base was safe for kids because the Chancellor wanted to be certain. We knew it would be so we didn’t care, but it wasn’t. The lady gave us a day to clean up before she came back to ascertain it was safe. It is now. But there were dangerous things in reach of the kids that no vod would leave out. So, Ink and I went through the security footage to see what di’kut was leaving dangerous shit around.” 

Ink takes over the story, “It was one of the Chancellors aids. She had come down and put dangerous stuff in easily accessible areas for children. It was deliberate. So,” Ink shrugs, “we bugged the Chancellors office and set up hidden cameras. We needed to know if he was telling her to or if she just really hated kids.”

Hive cuts in, “While we recorded everything, we set it up so it only triggered our comms when she went into his office. And when she did, we got this recording,” Hive holds out a holorecorder and turns it on. An image of the Chancellor and one of his aids came to life, paused for a second before Hive played it.

”And?” The Chancellor prompts.

“I set up everything you told me to. Their daycare will be shut down before the days out.” The aid states.

“Good. Leave.” With that, the aid leaves the office. 

And the recording stops. 

This still does not explain the actions those two had taken. Fox looked at both for more of an explanation.

Hive speaks up first, “We went through the recordings later and found him in an upset over the daycare not being shut down. I don’t have it on me but he was talking about maybe sending a bounty hunter to attack the base. Make it unfit for kids. We couldn’t let that stand, vod.”

Fox sighs heavily, “Let me make this clear. You two assassinated the Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic because he threatened our base and daycare?” Fox really wanted to make sure he was hearing this correctly.

“He debated to himself on whether to attack the base when the kids were here!” Ink protests.

Which, while a good point, changes little. 

Fox groans, “You two are true utreekov. Seriously, gar mirsh solus.”

Both troopers were silent, but were clearly upset with the insults. But not fighting them.

First smart action from both of them. 

Would it of killed them to go through more of their recordings from the Chancellors office?

Fox and Jorbe had gone through it and found some rather damning footage.

Fox pulls out his own holorecorder and played a clip that Ink and Hive’s bugs and cameras had picked up.

Chancellors Palpatine stands up from his desk and goes over to a holocaller, pulling on a robe and pulling the hood up to hide his face. After pressing the call button, Count Yan Dooku appears. 

“Lord Sidious how might I be of service?” Count Dooku asks.

The Chancellor answers, “There will be a Jedi battalion lead by Master Gallia at Bo’lim. Win the system, she will not be able to call in reinforcements.”

Count Dooku bows, “Of course, Master.” with that, the holocall cuts out.

Fox shuts off the holorecorder and levels the pair of troopers with a Look.

“Did General Gallia-”

“I requisitioned reinforcements and changed certain travel plans for other battalions so she’d have backup.” Fox states, it had been one of the first things he’d done upon hearing that, “Now, please explain why you assassinated our Chancellor who was a Sith Lord and working with the enemy?” Fox’s voice was hard. He wanted these two to get with the program. They weren’t. He was not happy.

He rarely was. But that was beside the point.

“We assassinated him because he threatened our ade.” Ink states.

Fox sighs again. Seriously?

“You two are fucking morons.”

“Are we in trouble?” Hive asks.

“Yes you two are in deep trouble for assassinating our Supreme Chancellor who was committing treason against the Galactic Republic.” Fox was pretty sure his sarcasm wasn’t coming through his anger, but he really didn’t care. “The fuck do you think?”

Hive’s answer was hesitant, “No?”

Fox sighs heavily, “You’re both on latrine duty. Get out of my office.” 

It wasn’t really a punishment. Not the one they should have gotten for assasinating the Supreme Chancellor.

But Palpatine had been a traitor to the republic. Jorbe was leaking the illegal footage, making sure it had no connection to the Guard.  

Soon everyone would know the Chancellor was a traitor.

And a Sith Lord.

Fox probably should of punished Ink and Hive harder.

 If anyone found out it had been them and all they got was latrine duty?

Fox would be decommissioned with them. 

But he couldn’t bring himself to punish them more.

The Chancellor was a Traitor to the Republic Fox was sworn to protect.

Also.

Fox really hated the man.

[imnotlaughingbro]

Mark Me | Part 1 | Christopher Velez

Details: 3,400 Words | Italics is a memory | Smut, Unprotected Sex, Swearing | You & Christopher are both tattoo artists competing to be the new owner. 

Part 2 of Mark Me 

This turned out much longer than I thought it would be...It was just going to be some smut and then the idea of them both being tattoo artists came up and it just rolled from there. Also took so long because somehow Tumblr Drafts decided to delete half of it and I had to rewrite it 😞Anyways hope you guys like it 💖

Tags:(Not sure who to tag so tagged a few, so sorry if I missed anyone)

@dad-ee-drea @cncogirl18 @cyaneaa @savloveschrisandjoel @chrisbvelez @tie-me-up-velez @ella-se-vuelve-loca @cncwoah @fullprunerebelstatesman @my-only-angelle @emsy55 @kinkvelezx

Photo Credit: @christophervelezsworld

“And that’s another one for me Velez” you smirk as you take the chalk in your hand and mark another point next to your name. You stare at your extra point triumphantly with your hands on your hips and a smile beaming on your lips.

“You are getting way too cocky” you feel Chris’ breath against your ear and you jump away from him in surprise, you didn’t even hear his footsteps coming from behind you. His giggle echoes throughout the tattoo parlour and the few remaining customers all turn to stare at the both of you as Chris continues laughing at your dramatic leap.

You blow a strand of hair out of your face and turn to face Christopher, now clutching his stomach with one hand and wiping the tears away from his eyes with the other. 

“You won’t be laughing so much when I win this thing and I get to tattoo the words ‘jackass’ across your forehead!” you threaten him. 

“Oh I will be laughing alright, I will be laughing when I get to tattoo ‘Christopher Velez’s Property’ on your ass, princesa” He gives you that devilish smirk and it takes all your willpower not to punch him in the face. 

It’s been 29 days since you’ve made that bet with Christopher. The stupid bet that would end up with one of you getting a shiny brand new tattoo. 

It all started when your boss sat you both down and informed you that he would be retiring soon and either you or Christopher would be taking over the store as new owner. 

“Well the obvious choice is me” Christopher chimes in before you can even process the information. 

“Are you serious?! I have been here way waaay longer than you have” you throw back, looking at your boss with as much seriousness as you can muster. 

“More clients request me to give them tattoos therefore I should be appointed new owner” 

“That is absolute bullshit and you know it Velez!” You stand up so you can for once tower over him. 

Christopher stands up as well to show his own defiance. 

Your boss lets out a big sigh and stands up as well. 

“You know what? I knew this would happen with the two of you. Let’s make it interesting then. I will give you both 30 days and by the end we will see which one gets more clients. Whoever wins this can be new owner” 

“Deal!” you hold out your hand immediately to Christopher, completely and utterly convinced that you would destroy him and confident that the future of the tattoo parlour would soon be in your hands. 

“Hold on...let’s make this much more interesting” Christopher raises an eyebrow and you almost shiver because you know that whatever is next to come out of his mouth will be some fucked up plan that only he could come up with. 

“Whoever wins also gets to tattoo whatever they want and I’m saying whatever they want on to the loser’s body” You stare at him, completely slack jawed, the gears slowly turning in your head as you process what just came out of this idiots mouth. 

“Fuck no”

“Awww....my little baby scared? You want to give up already? You ready to call me boss, I definitely wouldn’t be opposed to that” he kneels down to your height and his lips turn into a little pout and his big brown eyes stare into yours, all one big mockery. Stupid Velez and his stupid face. 

You grab his hand and shake it hard. 

“Prepare to get the worst tattoo of your life” you tell him. 

“Well if it’s coming from you then it definitely will be” he banters back to you. 

Your face flames red and you almost raise your foot to kick him in the shins. But before you can start beating his ass you stomp off, determined to win this and show Velez who is the real boss. 

Ever since then you both have been practically selling yourselves to every customer that walks through the door. Christopher winning the majority of the female clients with a little flirting and soft whispers in their ears. You much preferring to win yours by showing clients your past tattoos and the fact that you have been a tattoo artist for over 10 years compared to Chris’ measly 7 years. 

You look up at the clock, 2 more hours until closing time and with Chris finishing up his last tattoo means that you will both be even again on points. You nervously drum your fingers against the counter and stare down the door, waiting for one more customer to walk in, just one more and you will win.

“Stop it, Chris” a soft feminine voice interrupts your daze as you look behind you to see Christopher helping his female client out of that chair. One hand on her waist and the other holding her hand as he pulls her up with ease, the muscles in his arms tensing and clearly on display in his white singlet. 

You roll your eyes and turn back to staring at the door as Chris moves to the cash register to take his payment. The girl gives Chris one last look over and mouths the words ‘call me’ to him before exiting. 

“And that’s how you do it” Chris comes up beside you and takes a seat at the counter. 

“Just one more and you’re done for” you whisper back not even turning to look at him as you will all your energy into bringing another customer into the store. And like magic, the bell on the door rings and you practically jump up to greet the new customer.

A guy walks into the store and your jaw drops because he is one of the most  stunning men you have ever seen. Freshly dyed fire red hair, gorgeous caramel skin and tattoos scattered along his defined arms, you have to stop yourself from drooling. 

“Don’t mind her she drools like that sometimes” Chris speaks up from behind you and holds out his hand to the guy before you. 

You blink a few times and start to feel your face getting red as the guy takes Christopher’s hand in his own and shakes. 

“I’m Chris, What can I do for you?” 

“I’m Richard...And this lovely lady?” he turns to you and holds out his hand, you place your hand in his and Richard turns your hand around and plants a kiss against your knuckles. His lips soft and warm against your hand makes your face blush a deeper shade of red. 

“I’m Y/N” you manage to choke out as Richard stands back up but continues to hold your hand, his thumb rubbing against your knuckles where his lips just were. 

“Did you want a tattoo or what?” Chris’ voice becomes full of irritation as he stares down at Richard’s hand still lingering on your own. The sound of Chris’ anger pulls you out of your little daydream and your hand out from Richards. 

You look over at Christopher and his whole body is tensed, his relaxed and friendly manner taken over by something now completely different that you had never seen before. 

Was it jealously that you were seeing before you? Christopher Velez actually being jealous because some guy kissed your hand and held it for too long? You couldn’t believe what you were seeing right now. 

“Chill bro, I just want a small tattoo with my babies name. You think you can handle that, Mami?” Richard turns back to you and smiles. 

“Of course” you answer back. 

You have to stop yourself from doing a little dance. You did it...You’ve fucking won! You can’t help but give Christopher a smirk before grabbing Richard’s hand and pulling him towards the chair. 

An hour and many flirtatious words later you are finished with Richard’s new tattoo of his daughter’s name on this inside of his bicep. You look down and admire the fresh tattoo before wrapping it up for him. 

“Thanks Mami” Richard leans over and plants a kiss on your cheek and you don’t think you can turn any more red than you already are. With all this flirting and touching all afternoon and Christopher being all jealous and staring daggers into Richard’s back any time he makes you smile, you can’t help but feel a little worked up over these two guys. 

You walk Richard to the door but before he leaves, he slides a piece of paper in your hand. 

“Call me and maybe we can go on a date without your guard dog staring us down the whole time” 

You let out a little laugh and smile at Richard before he walks away. You shut the door, turn the lock and flip the store sign to closed. 

You walk over to Christopher who is still sitting where you left him, his eyes staying on the chair where Richard just was. 

“Guess I’m your boss now” you almost sing to him in victory. He doesn’t laugh and you can feel your heart sink a little, the happiness you felt from the victory draining. 

“Bet’s off, you can have the store but I am not letting you ink me” Chris looks up at you. 

“What? No way, you have to, you made this stupid bet” you whine at him. 

Chris gets up to go around you towards the door but you block his way. 

“Awww....my little baby scared?“ you tell him recalling the exact words he taunted you with a few weeks ago. 

A smile spreads across his face and Christopher shakes his head. You breathe a sign of relief as the Christopher you know returns. 

“Fine, just not the face, you know that’s my main selling point” he rubs his jaw and grins at you. 

You grab his hand and pull him towards the chair but before you can push him down to sit, he turns back around to face you with his hands up. 

“Look I think we should just lay out some ground rules here” 

“Freaking hell Velez suck it up” you say back to him before placing your palm directly on his chest in an attempt to get him to sit back on the chair so you can start. 

Underneath your hand you can feel his heart thumping against his chest, his defined muscle tensing and hard against the thin white fabric of his singlet. Neither of you move for a heartbeat and you turn your head to look at him. 

Chris lays his hand over your own and begins to lean down, his head tilting at an angle that could only mean one thing. With a panic you push him down on the chair so he falls back and his back hits the chair with a thump.

A shocked expression crosses his face before he begins to laugh, quietly at first that cute giggle of his which in seconds turns into a full fit of laughter and you can’t help yourself but laugh with him. The room now filling up with the lovely sounds, if anyone walked past the store windows right now they would see two crazy people in a fit of laughter. 

Finally containing yourself and Chris biting his lip to stop from laughing, you sit down on the roller chair and begin setting out your equipment. 

“Whew...That was a close one” Chris says in between his final fits of laughter. 

“Yeah, don’t know what you were thinking there. Hand please. ” you say before holding out your hand for his. 

He holds out his hand grudgingly and you place it down in front of you, palm facing up and his bicep on display. You look over your tools in front of you and before you begin you close your eyes starting the ritual you do every time you start a new tattoo. 

You take a deep breath in and count to ten, willing your heart to relax, your hands to become steady and your mind to become clear. 

When you open your eyes, you see Chris. His eyes staring deep into yours and his breathing laboured. You both stare at each other in silence, neither of you wanting to break first. 

“If you don’t stop me, I’m going to kiss you” 

Your heart skips a beat and that ritual you just did to relax and prepare for the tattoo has been completely thrown out the window with the words that have just come out of his mouth. 

You run a nervous tongue across your bottom lip, wetting it because it’s become suddenly dry. Chris’ eyes immediately watch your tongue, a certain hunger now apparent in his stare. 

All it took was a second and Chris uses the hand that you were holding to tattoo him to pull you towards him. His other hand finds its way to the back of your neck and his lips connect with yours. 

Just a press of your lips at first until it became all too consuming and the kiss turns into a full making out session. Chris’ tongue slips into your mouth and you swear you can see stars. Your hands roam over his chest then to  his arms feeling the muscle underneath until finally they settle in his hair long enough for you to tug as your tongue finally decides to fight his own for dominance. Chris moans into your kiss as you take his bottom lip in-between your teeth and pull slightly and you swear that moan is the sexiest thing you’ve ever heard. 

You pull away from the kiss and a little whimper escapes Chris begging you to stay. You smile at him and move around the chair so you are now in front of him rather than on his side. You begin to undress for him starting with your jeans sliding them down your legs and leaving them on the floor. Your hands find the hem of your shirt and you slip it off easily and throw it behind you. You stand there before him wearing just your panties now wet from all the kissing and you thank your lucky stars that you decided to wear a nice bra today. 

“Are you just going to sit there and watch me or you going to undress?” you ask him placing your hands on your hips and taping your foot in fake annoyance. 

With a signature laugh, he easily slides his singlet over his head and tosses it behind the chair. He unzips his jeans and tugs them off while still sitting in the chair and you laugh as he does a little wiggle to get them off his feet. 

Chris now sits there watching you and you can clearly see his semi-hard cock bulging from underwear. Without another word you get up on the chair and straddle him, your legs on either side of him and his hands find their way to you. You settle yourself down above him and through your damp panties you can feel his hard cock underneath you, you almost let out a moan just from that alone. 

Chris places a kiss on the top of your breast just above your bra, his face now aligned directly with your chest because of the way you are sitting above him. His soft sweet kisses trail up and down leaving goosebumps on your skin while his hands roam your body. His touches ever so gentle as if you could break at any second but you grow weary and needy with every second that passes and he isn’t inside you. 

With a quick intake of breath you grab his hand and guide it to your panties. Chris looks up at you and a playful smirk plays across his face. Using his index finger he starts to move it up and down your panties, pressing against your wet pussy, the thin fabric in the way and making you more frustrated with each stroke. 

“Please Chris” you beg him and any thought of common sense leaves you when Chris pushes the fabric of your panties aside and his finger touches your pussy, his finger coming in contact with your wetness and begins to glide up and down your lips. 

He moves with precision his finger finds its way up and down the lines of your pussy as if he was trying to memorise it. Chris finally slips his finger inside you and you have to grab on to his shoulders or else you would collapse. The wetness of your pussy allowing him to pump his finger in and out of you easily. 

Chris’ other hand finds your ass and begins to move you, your hips circling on top of his hard cock while his finger continues to work on your pussy. Moans escape his own mouth as your body moves above him and putting pressure on his cock. 

It takes almost all your willpower to pull his hand away from your pussy. 

With a smile he brings that finger up to his mouth and sucks on it, licking and working his tongue to drink up the juices from your body. 

“You taste fucking delicious” he tells you and you can’t help but kiss him. You bring your lips to his and taste yourself on his tongue. While your mouth works on him, his hands tug his underwear down and you finally can feel his cock against your pussy without any fabric in the way. 

You look down and marvel at his cock, large and thick and dripping with pre-cum. You bite your lip at the thought of him inside you and he seems to be thinking of the same thing because he grips your waist and lifts you easily. 

“Are you sure about this?” he suddenly asks you, his voice turning so soft and gentle. 

Your eyes meet his and you nod before planting a kiss on his lips. When the kiss begins to deepen, Chris lowers you onto his cock. The wetness of your pussy allowing him inside effortlessly. You sit down on his cock and you stay there feeling him hard inside you. 

Neither of you move both trying to adjust to this feeling, your nails dig into his shoulders and you start to move your hips for him. You start slow at first circling and testing the motion of him inside you. 

With your hands on his shoulders you start to lift yourself up and down his cock. 

“fuck” Chris mutters under his breath as his hands grip your waist. 

That one word unwinds you and you start to move faster, using his cock to bring you closer to climax. Your moans fill the room and Chris finds your lips to silence them. 

Chris’ hands find their way from your waist to your ass. Grabbing your ass tight he takes over. He thrusts into you faster, your body jerking up and down, the kiss turns feverish as you both get closer. Your nails dig harder into his shoulders almost drawing blood and you can feel your core tightening as Chris continues to fuck your pussy hard and fast. 

Chris pulls away from the kiss to bring his mouth to your neck, his lips sucking and pulling at the skin in a way that you know will leave a mark, his mark on you for everyone to see. 

“I’m so close” he moans against your skin. 

You pull him close and whisper into his ear. “Cum inside me Papi” 

Those words were his undoing because as you finish whispering in his ear, he bites down on your neck and his cock begins to twitch inside you. He brings his hips off of the chair to meet your own, his cock slamming inside you deep and you cry out his name as your own climax is reached, seconds later Chris finds his own climax and his cum fills your pussy dripping out of you and onto his lap. 

His hands find their way to the side of your face and he brings his lips to yours, he kisses you softly such a change from the heavy make out session earlier.

“You know you are not getting out of this tattoo right?” you whisper against his lips as you both try to catch your breath. 

You can feel his laugh rumble in his chest and his hands now on your thighs squeeze. 

“Yes, Boss” He mocks with a smile before pulling you down for another kiss. 

You could definitely get used to this. 

[raeofalbion]

tagged by @marcceh - I’m sorry this is so long, I’m incapable of talking about writing in a small amount of words.

Author Name: deathofaraven on fanfiction-specific sites; I’ve been considering changing it but it’s been my username since 2009, so there’s no point. I think it’s some version of I.Ravencrow on other writing sites.

Fandoms You Write For: Fable and BBC Sherlock currently; Tom Becker’s Darkside occasionally; DMC, Batman, Death Note, Kuroshitsuji, Harry Potter, shit I’ve written for a lot of fandoms and can’t remember them all because I deleted the fics from my profiles, and most of LJ Smith’s work previously.

Where You Post: mainly on Ao3 now, but I occasionally post on FFN and on Tablo

Most Popular One-Shot: Hiraeth, which is apparently my third most read and second most kudosed fic on Ao3?? Idk how that worked out, but I’m so glad readers have enjoyed it.

Most Popular Multi-Chapter Story: A Marriage of Inconvenience, to absolutely no one’s surprise--it’s the first in a series, it’s a really old fic (originally written in 2012), it’s the fic I moved to Ao3 for (specifically because I’d rewritten it in 2015/2016), the reason I got a tumblr account. It was kinda...the start of a lot of things, so it’s sorta fitting it’s the most popular I’ve written. I’d like to...eventually fix more things about it (or do a version that I feel is more complete), but I’m proud of it. It’s my baby. I’m glad it’s still going strong.

Favorite Story You Wrote: Nope, no, not picking sides. They’re all good children; I’m proud of everything I currently have up and I enjoy rereading 99% of them.

Story You Were Nervous to Post: Oh, hmm...I’m generally nervous 95% of the time when it comes to posting, but I think I was most nervous about No More Heroes and Ghosts. NMH is almost entirely headcanon-based but set in canon, which is something I usually avoid doing; usually I save hc-heavy fics for AUs, but the hcs suited the prompt so well that I couldn’t really help it. As for Ghosts, it was the first time I’d really made an effort to break into a new fandom in...years and there was a lot of really sucky stuff happening at home at the time so it just felt like a huge gamble for me--I went from writing characters I know so well to characters I didn’t really...know (still don’t feel like I entirely know, though I’m enjoying getting to know them) and, on top of that, was dealing with some...I guess some fear there’d be backlash for abruptly jumping into the fandom despite how much shit this fandom gets sometimes. Luckily both NMH and Ghosts seem to have been received pretty well--there’s things that I’d change about both, but I’m really proud of them and they no longer make me nervous.

How Do You Choose Your Titles:  I scream into the abyss until it sees fit to grant me inspiration for a suitably pretentious title. Or I go with something that sums up the theme or directly relates to the prompt. Song lyrics as a last resort. MoI’s name came from an in-game quest title, though, so...like...anything that fits?

Do You Outline:  Sorta? If it’s a one shot I like to go in totally blind except for whatever vague idea I want to write. If it’s long, I like to have a very vague outline. Usually a summary or a slightly more detailed idea plus where I’d like the characters to be emotionally or what I’d like to happen at certain plot points. The plot points are usually the focus so I like to at least have a map of where they start and where they end and whatever happens to the characters in between those points just happens. I mostly ignore the outline.

How many of your [BBC Sherlock] stories are…

Complete: 6; 4 on Ao3 right now, 1 on tumblr that’s too short to transfer, 1 that’s not going to be posted.

In-Progress: Y’all wanna see something stupid? It’s me. 28. (And that’s ignoring the contents of my prompt list that haven’t technically been started.)

Coming Soon: Possibly another half dozen? Can’t be certain. I always seem to finish Sherlock stories very randomly and very abruptly, so it’s a mystery to everyone involved. I blame my Sherlock muse; he takes great pride in being an absolute bellend during writing. And during not-writing.

Do You Accept Prompts: I shouldn’t, but I abso-fucking-lutely do. Send ‘em. No guarantee I’ll get to them any time soon, but send ‘em anyway if you’d like me to do them. (I’d prefer prompts/requests be sent off anon so I can talk with the prompter if any issues come up or if I need extra inspo, but I’ll still make an effort even if anon is on...you’re just leaving a lot more of the story in my hands and up to my random interpretation.)

Upcoming Story You Are Most Excited to Write: Hmm...they’re all exciting in their own way? A lot of the AUs I’m excited to write because I’m curious what people will think. I’m also really excited for Three to just be over because I’m kinda tired of working out the logistics of it and tired of rewriting it. (And I’ve also never posted a fic like this before. So.)

Tag Five Fanfic Authors to Answer These Questions As Well*: 

@jamlocked @grayrosegarden @weweremadeforeachothersherlock @sincerelyjimlock @johnlockedinwarstan No obligations for any of you, if you don't wanna do it! ^^

* I know it says 5 and specifies Sherlock as the fandom, but if anyone who follows me wants to do this and just...changes the fandom to your main fandom, I’m totally up for that and you should 100% tag me so I can go snoop at what you’re writing. ^^

[aj-the-satyr]

All the Questions......

So Tag games...... Used to do ‘em a lot then kinda fell off writing for a while and then it got quiet. Well now I got tagged in 3 of those 11/11/11 things. You know the ones answer 11 questions, ask 11 more to the 11 people you tag. Well I’m not going to tag anyone other than the 3 people asking @writersblockandapotoftea @carrotgirl-1 and @rosewinterborn and say thankyou for doing so. So here goes..... the goat tries to get through all 33 questions.

1) Do you hide any secrets in your books that only a few people will find?

Hmm.... I suppose that I have a habit of making the names of both things and characters have deeper meanings. Like Grigory Zmeya, his last name means snake and he is a snake shifter type person. So stuff like that.

2) If you could ask one successful author three questions about their writing, writing process or books what would they be?

Not sure about this. I’ve read interviews with many authors where they have dispensed their advice and advice is not a one size fits all thing but I would lie to ask more personal things like favorite characters, Least favorite scene to write and most surprising side character. Stuff like that.

3) Do you have a library membership?

Nope.

4) Ebooks, yay or nay?

Used them and they are fine but I am the old school like to have the physical book in my hands kinda goat.

5) What feeling do you want your readers to get from what you write?

Wow, deep question. Enjoyment? Other than that I’d like them to have feelings for different characters, to pick favorites, to hate some and love some. I suppose I’d like my characters to be memorable but I will settle for the “That was Good” feeling after reading, even if nothing gets carried with them.

6) What time of day are you most productive?

Considering how many times I’ve written my snippets after 10pm and into the wee hours of the morning, I’d say then.

7) What is your writing Kryptonite?

Myself really. There are times I just get conflicted about my writing and rather than just let it flow and let the characters lead I will find myself deleting things and starting over many times. I’m trying to do that less but it’s hard sometimes to just let go and see what happens at the keyboard.

8) Which scenes are your favorite to write?

Huh....... I’m a dialogue heavy writer trying to get more description into my scenes so I favor just talking but am trying to change that a little.

9) What comes first in your development/outlining process plot or characters?

Well considering I don’t outline anymore (Used to waaaaay back) It would have to be characters. Make the characters and pop them in a setting. Plot will happen, hopefully.

10) What is your favorite novel to film/TV adaptadion?

Comic books count right? I love the Constantine TV show. Shame it got cancelled, love the fact they brought the character back for Legends of Tomorrow and the fact he might be getting his own show again is awesome. Love Constantine.

11) Do you think yourself as more of an artist or entertainer?

Neither really. Not something I’ve ever thought about, since you are asking me to think about it...... entertainer??

Right onto the second set of questions gonna add a read more break here to avoid taking up huge chunks of Tumblr real estate and for those people that don’t really care what this old goat has to say

12) Play fuck, marry, kill with Gandalf, Aragon and Arwen.

Er........ Kill Gandalf.... no wait he’ll come back for revenge..... Kill Aragon..... man that would be hard to do..... Kill Arwen then? But I wanted to marry her.......... Man...... Kill Aragon with Gandalf’s help, fuck Gandalf as payment and then go off to marry Arwen. Problem solved.

13) If you had to set fire to a famous building, which one would you set alight?

The Vatican?

14) If you could bring someone back from the dead who would it be?

It would be Sandra, a friend I made for a brief time on the internet who I RP’d with and had a good rapport with. She died of cancer at 20 I think, it’s hard to think about. I do always remember that I talked to her through her brother in her final days and managed to make her smile, something her brother told me she hadn’t done for weeks. Crying typing this. Yeah. Fuck yeah I’d bring her back and let her live her life. Fuck Cancer.

15) Which fictional Universe would you go into?

Star Trek. No need for money, could sit at a cafe and write all day. Great.

16) Where would you go if the world ended?

Hell. Oh wait that’s not what you were asking. Er...... nowhere. No point if it’s all gone is there? I’d stay here and still be a loner. Wow..... fun goat answers.

17) What’s you alignment?

Chaotic Neutral.

18) Lovecraft or Shelly?

Er....... as much as I love Cosmic Horror Mary Shelly was one of the most badass goths there has been. Plus the whole creating the sci-fi genre as a fuck you to Lord Byron. She is amazing and doesn’t get enough respect.

19) What’s the weirdest food you have eaten?

Sea Urchin or deep fried shrimp heads not sure which I think was weirder.

20) How do you want to die?

Die? I’m immortal. Or is that immoral? One of those.

21) Who is your least favorite character to write?

Probably The Professor since he’s a homophobic bigot who killed his own son’s boyfriend (Though he claims that was merely an accidental oversight of his grander plan) since he is not a very nice character at all. Makes my skin crawl.

22) What’s your favourite fairy tale?

Can’t say that I really have one. None of them resonate anymore, neither the grimdark originals or the fluffed up modern takes. I do however enjoy the book Dragon’s Bait by VIvian Vande Velde which is about a 15yr old girl who is put out as a sacrifice to a Dragon and ends up allying with the dragon and seeking revenge.

One more set. Almost there with the goat interrogation.

23) When did you know you wanted to be a writer?

Probably in University where I started writing a little something called “Space Gerbils” and was sending it out via email to about a dozen internet friends. They were hooked, I thought it was garbage but voila! The spark ignited. Heavily got into tabletop RPGs at the same time so that probably helped my desire for storytelling.

24) What book/Book series have you always meant to read but have not yet?

The Long Earth series by Terry Pratchett and Stephen Baxter. I have a boxed set of them all but I just haven’t cracked the cover yet.

25) Who’s you favourite writer? 

Published? Either Sir Terry Pratchett or Eoin Colfer. But a special shoutout goes to @yuutfa for Caster. They are a wonderful storyteller and got many an emotion from me while I was reading an early draft.

26) What was your favourite book as a child?

It is one that sits on my shelf this very moment. It is called “Science Fantasy Stories” and is a collection of short stories that I read many times over as a child, back when I would consume a book a day almost.

27) Favorite music to work to?

Soundcloud generally has my back but it does sometimes throw up the odd track that makes me question if its algorithm has developed some sort of twisted intelligence Black Mirror style.

28) Hogwarts House?

Ah..... this question. I’ve read the books, saw a couple of the movies (Did not like the movies) and enjoyed every step of the way. I bought my first Harry Potter books when they were selling the first 3 as a set so I jumped in to see what the fuss was about. Never once have I thought about what House I would be in. Never. So Imma gonna say Slytherin.

29) Hobbies?

Writing?? Generally I play vidja games. Current faves being Monster Hunter World (PC), Endless Legend (PC) and Crash team racing nitro fueled (PS4) and I also daydream scenes with my characters in them. Trying to get back into reading regularly again.

30) Where do you draw Inspiration from?

Everywhere I guess. From random conversations to ideas had after playing games, watching TV or reading books. Sometimes I’m not sure where the inspiration comes from but I am just trying to let myself go at those moments, run with it. Who cares if The Simpsons already did it? Truly new ideas aren’t new anyway. (Except maybe for theoretical physics, that shit is bananas) I mean one of my characters basically declared themselves to be a God (At least in my head) after I read an article on Retrocausality. Inspiration can come from anywhere. Use it!

31) What do you consider your aesthetic to be?

Look I can barely spell that word you want me to have one as well?

32) Favorite mythology?

Favorite mythology of AJ the Satyr................

33) What do you think influences your work the most?

My co author?? But seriously working things out with them has been very helpful but also there’s this little writing discord that I’m part of that is really welcoming and a great source of inspiration and ideas. But all in all I think Neil Gaiman influences me the most when he answered a question about how he does it. He told the person asking that you just write everything down that happens in the first draft and then when you go back and rewrite you make it look like you knew what you were doing all along.

Right. One Goat, 33 Questions. And I won! Not tagging anyone else but I want this to get me going on these tag games. I can’t just hide in the dark corners of Tumblr anymore. I must face the light! Has @notanotherhour done this yet??

[corpus-chorus]

A dev’s insight to tumblr’s updates

Alright guys. I’m sorry to make this long-ass discourse post when I’d really much rather just be doing my art reblogs and basking in my warm community, but I feel this needs to happen, because a lot of you may not be aware of what goes into updates like this.

To be clear - I’m not making any comment about the color change itself. It doesn’t actually bother me, seems kind of silly to flip a lid about when there’s plenty of extensions to fix it if you don’t like it, but I get the annoyance of having something familiar change into something that makes you uncomfortable, especially with no warning.

But then I started to see a bunch of rants on how shitty this update is when there were so many bugs that needed to be fixed instead, and I just need to take a moment to address app development in general, because y’all seem fairly misinformed about the whole thing.

So let’s get one thing straight - bug fixing is not easy.

Yeah, that sounds like a copout, doesn’t it?

But let’s talk about how bug fixing works, alright? Because there’s a couple of things we gotta look at when considering changes like this.

How much code is needed to fix the bug? Yeah, this one’s pretty straight forward, right? How many lines of code do the devs have to write to fix whatever’s broken? Except you’re forgetting the time it takes to find the bug in the first place. And this isn’t about popping into one file and looking through the lines until you see what’s broken. Bugs aren’t just typos. Bugs are NOT easy to find. Generally, if I’m working on a bug, and it takes me 4 days to fix, 3 of those days were probably spent just defining exactly where the bug came from and the places it exists. And that’s with me being super familiar with the codebase. If I didn’t already know that the core value displayed on the groupings page was coming from the hciReplacements inspector (out of 30-some inspectors), which is pulling data from the hagi, which is pulling and calculating data from the clip model, of which I know the exact layout, it probably would have taken me double or triple that time. And now, on top of that, what if the bug is an extreme edge case no one thought about when they built the core code? I might have to rewrite the entire functionality of the thing that pulls all that data, and holy hot hell is that gonna take some time.

How much QA effort is required? Contrary to popular belief, no, developers don’t just make bug fixes and immediately push them out to the app. It’s gotta be tested, usually by some sort of QA/QC team. And, fun fact, QA can take longer than the development did. Because the QA team is looking for EVERY POSSIBLE USE CASE of the exact thing you’re working on. Every single possible way a user might interact with that. That takes a skilled worker to think of all of those possible use cases (and spoiler alert, they’re human, so they still fuck up sometimes), and it takes them time to find them all.

But ON TOP of that, you also have a LOT of unexpected consequences to code changes. Maybe you just needed to update to cores count so that it’s the total cores on a node instead of total cores per processor, but you didn’t realize that another part of the code was assuming that value was cores per processor, and congrats, you’ve screwed the values all through the rest of the app.

And that’s just a data example. You can make critical errors if, say, you rename a value, and miss one of the places that value’s used, so now that value doesn’t exist in that specific scenario, and congratulations, you’ve actually caused your app to crash if the user follows a specific series of actions, and oops, looks like that set of actions wasn’t one QA thought of, so now users get to find it instead. You were just trying to fix a little data bug, and you’ve now broken the entire app. Good job.

How old is the codebase? Why is this important, you ask? Well, if you’re not in the industry, you may have never been introduced to the idea of “legacy code”. Legacy code is, to over-simplify, old code. It’s code that’s been around for a while. It’s code that dozens of people have had their hands in and is therefor a bit of a mess, no matter how hard you try to keep it clean, or how well organized your team is. Because maybe Eric built that one file really well to start with, and Suzy made some great additions to it, and Tom just made a few bug fixes, but he names variables a little differently, so Jason didn’t realize that the function he needed already existed when he went to build it a few months down the line, so now there’s two versions of the same thing, one used in one place, one used in another, and when Meredith goes to fix a bug related to it, she doesn’t realize she has to fix it both places, and wow, that is a bit of a mess, isn’t it?

The codebase I’m working in currently is about a year and a half old now, maybe a little more. When our first version was released, our codebase was 51,714 lines of code long. As of today, it is 357,932 lines long. With new features on the horizon, it will continue to grow, and the web of dependencies tangled through the codebase will get bigger and more complex. This is just a fact.

So keep in mind that that’s an app that’s about 1.5 years old. Tumblr was launched in, what, 2007 or something? That’s 11 years. 11 fucking years of coding, of dozens, if not hundreds, of people contributing to the codebase, in their own coding style, with their own knowledge levels. This is like if a team of 100 writers was working on a fic series for 11 years, and they didn’t all get to work together, and not everyone took notes. You’re gonna have plot holes. You’re gonna have inconsistencies. Shit’s gonna be messy.

And then there’s the pinnacle question. 

How much do the devs care? How much you wanna bet a lot of the devs on this site started out with a genuine passion for it? How many do you think worked long past the hours they were getting paid for just to make sure they were making something they could be proud of? How excited do you think it used to make them to release new features, and get to see it make people’s lives better?

When you care about a project, you think beyond the exact task you were given. You think about the impact every line of code you write is going to have. on the users. Because you want the users to enjoy the app. You want them to be happy with it. You want all the work you put into it to mean something.

When you care, you make less bugs. When you care, you don’t get lazy and just make temporary fixes. When you care, you put your heart and soul into your work.

How much heart and soul do you think the Tumblr devs want to put into this site at this point? When every single update, every single effort they put in, is met with criticism and hatred? When they’re told that nothing they do is ever good enough? How much do you think the devs care about getting everything perfect and on time and working themselves to tears on this site when they know damn well that the second they release an update, it’s going to be met with nothing but hatred and ignorant people treating them as if their hundred of hours of effort were stupid?

If I was a dev for this site, I’d hate my fucking job.

So let’s review. When you ask for bug fixes, I promise, there is someone on that team very concerned about addressing that bug fix. When you complain that tags are borked, or searching is shit, or whatever you get frustrated with that day, I promise, some dev is already working their tits off trying to find exactly what it’s going to take to fix that for you.

But understand that, that ask? That ask that might seem super simple and straight-forward to you from your comfortable couch? But it might take a team of devs working ungodly hours for months to be able to do. It might carry risks as high as accidentally deleting posts or banning blogs or breaking the entire bloody site. So they wanna spend some time and get that shit right so that you’re not stuck with something even worse than the bug they were fixing.

The people working on these bug fixes are human beings. We seem to remember that about everyone else in the goddamn world, but not the people who work tirelessly to give us the very site that we’re having these conversations on right now.

This update? Yeah, it might seem trivial to you. It might seem like they’re “wasting their time” with “stupid bullshit” when they could be fixing bugs.

But let me make it very clear. They’re trying to fix the bugs. They’re trying to stop the porn bots (and oh, fucking boy, I could make an entire post just about how insanely difficult that is, because some of you people seem to think the devs are fucking GODS or something). And maybe this update is stupid to you, but I can tell you right now, having this update right here is not the reason these things are not going to be fixed tomorrow. This is the frontend team making an aesthetic change - I promise it didn’t stop the backend team from their tireless work to fix the tags.

so tl;dr Fixing Tumblr’s bugs is not some simple, do-it-in-a-month, just-get-more-devs fix. And tearing into this release is doing nothing but reminding the probably very tired dev team that their work means absolutely dick to a large portion of ungrateful fucks on this site.

Complain about bugs. Tell Tumblr about their bugs. Make sure they know. And then sit the fuck down and wait - they’re fucking trying.

[jennycalendar]

2018 fic writing roundup

tagged by @catty-words​ !! thank u darling

i have this lingering suspicion that the 92k mess that is imperfections has a tendency of bumping up my word count, but also i’ve been writing particularly A Lot this year. so. yikes. this’ll be a mess

Total 2018 Word Count: 465,233 (so uh. yikes squared?) Total 2018 Hits: 16,798 Other 2018 AO3 Stats: Kudos: 1,592; Comment threads: 457; Bookmarks: 186; Subscriptions: 121.

Total 2017 Word Count: 171,640   Total 2017 Hits: 9,156 Other 2017 AO3 Stats: Kudos: 841; Comment threads: 172; Bookmarks: 126; Subscriptions: 40.

Links and Titles to 2018 Works (buckle up kids)

ten questions for new year’s eve (6,669 words) lonely s4 giles meets jenny on new year’s eve. basically fluff laced with some light angst, which i think set the tone for most of my writing this year

forever (4,738 words) some assorted femslash ficlets from tumblr that i immediately forgot about after february. it of course got buried under a deluge of jenny fic but there’s still some cute stuff there! i had a lot of fun in particular writing about bb willow and the beginnings of her attraction to girls

she’s your destiny (9,560 words) AHHHHHH I FORGOT I WROTE THIS. blessings of writing This Much. soulmate au with buffy/willow and giles/jenny where like. none of them are soulmates but they fall crazy in love anyway.

the happy-ending bouquet (3,851 words) set in 2018. giles and jenny have been married for something like 15 years and are still very happy and in love. basically just an endless deluge of fluff

personas (2,729 words) hhhhh i hesitate to count this as a 2018 fic, because i technically posted it in summer 2017 and then deleted it for reasons unknown (even to me). but there aren’t enough fics that explore jenny’s fractured sense of identity and her broken heart and i love my girl so much. so. wrote that.

something real (2,173 words) my valentine’s day fic!! a friend and i share the headcanon that jenny would have finally shoved her way back into giles’s heart if not for the love spell throwing her off, so. wrote a fic where that happened, albeit somewhat angstily.

direct, but not unwelcome (4,478 words) this fic always makes me cringe, a little; the office verse was written largely for faith and tara, and writing giles and jenny in it was a decision i don’t entirely like (mostly bc there really is no narrative place for either of them). but it has a few good lines ig?

putting a ring on it (2,370 words) giles and jenny proposal fic!! a little wobbly in places imo but still so fun to write. those two deserve all the fluff

the second choice soulmates (6,942 words) the inevitable faith/tara sequel to the soulmate au!! i had it planned from the second i started writing the first fic in that series, and i had a lot of fun with it. in which faith and tara have to deal with their soulmates being in love with each other, and end up falling in love themselves.

nightmares and the aftermath (1,205 words) the first fic i wrote in the ripper au! ripper has a nightmare; jenny talks him through it.

the inherent complexity of falling in love (3,519 words) more soulmate au nonsense!! this time with solely giles and jenny!! 

let’s stay together (857 words) i say that this is “a series of vignettes in which ben, ann, and leslie are dating” but really it’s just one. i’ve kept it in bc i really wanna write more than one. ben/leslie/ann is such a blessed ship and there are no fics for it! which is ridiculous! because they really should all be dating!! leslie has two hands y’all

moments of connection in an uncertain world (3,351 words) the olivia/jenny fic that set that amazing ship on its course. set in asoue; jenny’s identity in the narrative is ambiguous bc jenny’s identity in every narrative is ambiguous. mystery bicon

amends (remixed) (2,988 words) i’m like 99 percent sure i spite-wrote this fic after watching amends bc that really seems like something i would do. in which ghost jenny makes sure buffy, angel, and giles all know that she doesn’t blame them for a single thing.

it’s a family affair (11 chapters) jenny, married to giles and mom to two daughters, loses her memory. i meant for this to be an exploration of jenny and giles’s relationship + jenny as a character, but with hindsight i feel like i kinda rushed it. maybe someday i’ll come back and expand this a little?

maybe i’m in love (24 chapters) CRIES. this fic was posted all in one day and got buried under the deluge of fic i wrote this year and i am still so sad that it remains forgotten. even by me. like i forgot it existed till now. but it is the treasure of my heart and i am still not sure what i can possibly do for calendiles day 2019 that will even come close to “slow burn giles/jenny series rewrite in script format.”

dragonslayers (8,048 words) i go back and forth between whether adding a sequel to a sappy-happy-ending fic was actually needed, but i had a lot of fun writing jenny and anya and tara being friends and adopting a dog. those girls deserve so much better.

tech support (1,315 words) jenny works at angel investigations, and giles meets her when he and buffy drive up to la to get a book. unabashed fluff.

family ties (2,294 words) giles introduces jenny to his dad and the aunts. i had giles call himself “rupert” for the entire fic and forgot to explain why i made the choice to do so (and there was a damn good reason!!!) so every time i see this fic....Regret™

i like you (992 words) the product of me realizing “wait, i never wrote a fic about my Very Specific Headcanon that giles and jenny had sex after school hard!!!” and then going ahead and writing that fic. not explicit; lots of giles and jenny being dumb and in love

take me now! (3,460 words) the sister fic to my other jenny/olivia fic! in this one, jenny’s a watcher and olivia’s the sweet librarian who has her all blushy.

the grieving process (9,771 words) this fic! was! such a trip to write! i wanted to write something where giles’s s6 issues were confronted. originally i wrote a jenny’s-alive fic where he goes to her place in la after leaving buffy in tabula rasa, but the mood of that fic was miserable and hostile, so i changed things ever so slightly. and then it became “giles goes to jenny after buffy dies,” and that transitioned into “giles actually finally gets to have an outlet for his emotions,” and then it became a very soft fic that i love very much.

unsolved mysteries (1,704 words) a modern jackaby au! where jenny cavanaugh has trauma-related anxiety and eats pretzels w jackaby in a hall closet! surprisingly soft.

the cleanup crew (2,968 words) post-ted; buffy calls jenny and giles in to help her with ted’s robot body. because that ep was a hot mess and too many things were tied up too fast.

princess charming (2,754 words) written thanks to a throwaway line from the grieving process! about jenny saving fred in pylea! @theforestlesbian​ mentioned in a review that this fic came off as “the adventures of jenny” and that was the best compliment ever.

untraditional, unconditional (4,223 words) ripper au! ripper and jenny get married! i don’t think i will ever write a better calendiles wedding than this one.

gettin’ bi (1,215 words) jenny and giles come out to each other. that’s really it.

intimacy (1,058 words) some root/shaw fluff. g o sh at some point i really should finish poi huh

the battle’s done (and we kind of won) (5,026 words) post-chosen; jenny inexplicably comes back from the dead, and giles works thru the messy aftermath of s7.

chaos, vengeance, love (1,412 words) giles’s exes talk over his grave. (and yes, i do mean jenny and ethan.)

buffy summers, muggle-born (6,075 words) buffy goes to hogwarts! this was meant to set the scene for a loosely connected string of fics, but i could never decide whether i wanted them to be chaptered fics or oneshots. i do have like 3 large chapters saved to my computer, tho :/

a eulogy (920 words) jenny calendar, as told by how she’s remembered.

survivors’ guilt (4,690 words) in which giles dies instead of jenny, and jenny and buffy deal with it poorly. my only problem w this fic is that i really wish i’d explored the messy aftermath of what might have happened if jenny had brought giles back. 2019 project y/y?

regarding honor and honesty in the workplace (43 chapters) CRIES IN JENNY/LILAH. given that i did not shut up about this fucking fic for a good 3 months, i don’t think it needs a summary.

maybe we could have a thing (3,184 words) giles and jenny’s first date!! canon told us they went out beforehand and it really did need to be ficced.

the most important words (2,753 words) passion fix-it! how many of these have i written dfshlsdhdf. anyway, by some lucky stroke, jenny doesn’t die, but she’s understandably kind of a mess. giles tries to help.

that brown-eyed technopagan (2,821 words) ripper au! willow has a HUGE crush on jenny calendar, who in this ‘verse is in her senior year at sunnydale high. lots of high school shenanigans.

seven new and very bad songs about jenny (8,597 words) another ripper au fic, this one about what it takes for ripper to finally give in and kiss the girl.

love of mine (282 words) one of the two fics i have written that involves giles grieving jenny. angst abounds.

the adjustment period (4024 words) i wanted to write about how weak vamp jenny is for her gf, so i returned to the grand romantic gestures ‘verse and explored that. femslash calendiles!!

love, scotch, and late-night parties (2,539 words) the aftermath of eyghon in the ripper au. jenny wants to be smothered in attention from ripper; ripper wants to give jenny the space he thinks she needs. basically the exact opposite of canon with the exact same inability to communicate.

father and son (3,761 words) in which ripper examines his relationship to his dad, and worries about treating his new son the same way. (spoiler alert: he obviously does not.)

imperfections (46 chapters) TECHNICALLY i added a few new chapters in 2018. i stg i’ll at least get closer to finishing it this year.

happily ever after (2,005 words) set after the dire king! jenny and jackaby being dumb and in love and experimenting with “the mechanics of ghost-human relations.”

cardboard robot (2,097 words) ripper au: halloween edition! ripper gets a pumpkin stuck on his head and sings about jenny, who Definitely Doesn’t Like Him What Are You Talking About Shut Up.

tea, with honey (3,295 words) a modern jackaby au, where jenny’s trauma really is trauma with no ghost metaphor. jackaby, darling of my heart, is still just as sympathetic.

very really married (6 chapters) THIS I WILL FINISH IN 2019. FOR REALS. i have too many unpublished chapters on my laptop to NOT finish it. set in s1; giles and jenny get drunk married in las vegas pre-canon. which, of course, adds a whole new level of complexity to both of giles’s new jobs.

coping (2,611 words) i really wanted to write about jenny and eyghon, bc there are like 0 fics that address the absolute mess that canon throws at that woman. so i did. very angsty with no clear happy ending, bc that’s what happens when you write canon compliant fic about jenny calendar.

yours (2,747 words) my first foray into writing phryne and jack! and, if the 4k-and-counting wip is anything to go by, definitely not my last. 2018 brought me a lot of things, but watching mfmm all the way through was definitely one of the best.

family ties (2,640 words) catch me crying about river and the ponds for the rest of my life, probably. centered around river’s graduation from luna university and her relationship with her parents.

decently clothed (1,516 words) lots of dumb calendiles fluff!! based on a paragraph from a btvs novel; jenny and giles go clothes shopping. it’s exactly as cute as it sounds.

making things right (1,060 words) passion fix-it that came to me when i thought “what if jenny survived, but didn’t even care that she’d almost died, bc what really mattered was that she’d fixed things with giles and buffy?? lmao how badly would that fuck giles up, knowing that she placed earning his trust over her own life???” and then i wrote it bc i love pain

bless her soul (6,294 words) s3. jenny comes back wrong. lots of explorations of the guilt that buffy, giles, and angel harbored for jenny’s death, with none of the pain of using jenny solely as a mouthpiece for evil. so like. amends done right.

dear friend (1 chapter, so far) a you’ve got mail calendiles au that i really do intend to work on some more in 2019.

haunted (15,622 words) WHAT a note to end 2018 on. a (mostly) non-supernatural au in which jenny, after an intense & awful trauma, leaves sunnydale and buys a ridiculously inexpensive mansion in england. why was it so cheap? because giles, the ghost who lives there, has been scaring off buyers. naturally, jenny is not easily rattled.

Favorite Fic: it’s hard to choose bc i wrote so many but for now i’ll pick bless her soul. writing the-first-as-jenny and playing up scooby guilt while still getting to bring jenny back for a happy ending??? that was just so much fun.

Hardest Fic: very really married. absolutely. i was in a v weird place while writing that fic, so that certainly didn’t help, but that fic has been giving me Trouble since i started writing it.

Do You Plan to Take Prompts in 2019? always!!

What was the best thing about 2018? friendsssss!!! i’m entering 2019 with a lot of solid friendships, which really wasn’t the case in 2018. 

What was the worst thing about 2018? tbh the answer will always and forever be “my mom” until i am out of this house

Any last thoughts for 2018? how the FUCK did i WRITE more than half of the fics i have posted on ao3 in THIS YEAR ALONE. 55 FICS. i’m REELING.

Goals for 2019

finish the cheesy au g/j multichapters i started

maybe start work on a detective au sequel? i miss that ‘verse

more ripper au fic!!!!!

more jenny/olivia!!!

more jenny centric fic in general like It’s What She Deserves

SOMETHING about jenny and angel. i talk big talk about how much that dynamic fascinates me but i only ever touch on it in fic. it’s never the central focus.

finish the phryne/jack fic i’m working on, and maybe...tentatively...write more?

[caramell0w]

Ready to Comply

Parings: Bucky x Reader

Summary: You are taken captive by Hydra and Bucky becomes your protector

Warnings: Language, Angst, Torture (both Bucky and reader)

A/N: This is an ask I got about doing a Beauty and the Beast with Bucky. I don’t like doing rewrites of movies, so I made it unique and added elements of the movie to it. Hope you enjoy!

A/N 2: So this is the 2nd time I’m posting this because I’m a dumb ass and deleted the original. So sorry about that everyone! This one should be good now. Also a big shout out to @blog-lady-vi (who Tumblr won’t let me tag) for the correct translations! I’m not retagging people in this one. Thank you all to those of you that like, commented and reblogged my original. Sorry I deleted it!

Translations: You don’t have the balls - У тебя яиц не хватит Fuck you too - Ты тоже иди нахуй

Word Count: 3581

If you like my fanfic, check out my books

Masterlist

I’m running as fast through the trees as my legs will take me. The distant sound of dogs barking reminds me I’m not safe yet. I pump my arms and legs, willing my body to push me forward out of danger. Faster, move faster damn it! The barking gets louder and the shouts of men increases. I can’t be caught. Hydra will never let me live if I’m caught. My future holds torture and ultimately, death.

I see a clearing up ahead of me and push harder and faster, hoping to get out into the open where someone might see me and rescue me. Coms went dead over five minutes ago, I’m not even sure if my team has survived the mission. I turn to look behind me and see the dogs are closing in. My legs feel like jello and my chest hurts so bad from the exertion I feel as if I will pass out.

Just a little more, almost there! I thought about turning around and aiming my gun at the soldiers and dogs chasing after me; but what would that actually do? There are many more of them than of me and I would just run out of bullets. The opening is so close I can taste freedom and then I see him, the Asset. The Winter Soldier, waiting for me at my only exit to this God forsaken forest. He has his gun trained on me, and I know he never misses his target.

I skid to a stop a few feet in front of him and turn so I’m running parallel to the opening. His eyes, while hidden underneath dark glasses are trained on my every movement. I’m his mission and unless I die; there is no chance of escape. I’m not going down without a fight though, screw that! I stop running and turn my gun on myself.

“Stop, or I shoot,” I say, cocking my gun.

“У тебя яиц не хватит,” he replies, his voice muffled by his muzzle.  

“Ты тоже иди нахуй,” I respond and smile.

The sound of the dogs barking is deafening now as they are nipping at my heels.

“Soldat, take her down now,” a soldier commands. The Winter Soldier takes a step forward and I take one back, followed by another. My back brushes a tree and this is it. This is how it all ends, cornered like a broken dog. My finger itches to pull the trigger. In an instant he has his gun in his hand and he shoots at my leg. I look down expecting pain and blood; but I see a small dart instead. Fuck. I drop to my knees, the world above me spinning, and everything goes black.   

I wake up some time later, could be hours, could be days; I’m really not sure. I’ve been stripped down to just my stealth suit pants and my tank top. No guns, no communication system, no watch. I look around at my small cell and at my deathbed. It could be worse, I could die on the cold cement floor curled up. Now it’s the waiting game.

I stand and walk to the bars that are holding me in my tiny prison and look into the cell next to me. He’s there, caged like an animal as well. How fitting for a killer.

“Soldat.” I command his attention. He turns his head in my direction but makes no move to answer me.

“Where am I?” He stares at me, eyes glued to mine and shoulder length chestnut hair hanging in his face. “I asked you a question Soldat. Where am I?”

“He won’t talk to you. He doesn’t report to you.” A booming voice says as he walks down the hall to my cell. “If you want to talk to him so bad I can make sure he breaks you for the answers we need.”

“I should have shot myself when I had the chance.”

“We’ll see about that, Y/F/N. In the meantime, I believe you might just be our next Asset. We have a lot of work ahead of us, and we have a lot of work to break you.” I back away from him, I’m terrified and he knows it. I see the glint of amusement in his eye and the smug smile on his face.  “Oh yes, you are going to be fun to break. Better try to get some sleep, you won’t be getting any for awhile.” He turns on his heel and leaves us alone.

I feel the tears form and wipe them away before they have a chance to fall. I will not show weakness, I will not cry here. Think Y/N! I look around me for anything that could be used as a weapon or any means of escape. I’m frantic and I’m spiraling out of control with fear.

“Stop,” he says quietly, his voice sounding raw.

“Not in a million years. I’m not going to become an assassin like you. I’m not going to kill innocent people for these sick freaks, like you! Do you even know how much of a monster you are?” I place my hands on my hips and glare out at him.

“Yes.” He turns his back to me and drops his head. He sounds so defeated, so broken that I want to reach out to him.

“What happened to you?” It’s the only thing I can think to ask. Does he even know? Did he choose this? No, who would choose a life like this.

“I don’t remember.”

“Does it hurt?” I already know the answer, I’m positive it does.

He turns and his blue eyes lock with mine. “Yes.”

I’m strapped down to a chair, beaten and bruised; but still in one piece. I am alert enough to know I’m surrounded by at least ten men, all watching with amusement written on their faces. This is sick, they are getting joy of out of this. In the corner I see the asset watching me intently, his eyes never leaving me. I look over at him and plead for help with my eyes. I won’t say the words, I refuse to give them the satisfaction.

I am hooked up to some kind of IV and they are pumping me full of something. I struggle at first; but it is futile and I give up quickly. It’s easier to let the drugs run through me. It’s almost like anesthesia. I know I have a fat lip and bruised ribs; but I don’t seem to care.

“Are you willing to tell us now?” A man asks as he pinches my chin hard between his thumb and index finger, making me look at him. My eyes are glassed over and I gather as much spit as I can and get him right in the eye. He backhands me. My head snaps to the side, my eyes water and my ears are ringing. I open and close my jaw trying to get the ringing under control. “Turn it on.”

Someone forces a mouth guard into my mouth and I feel an electric shock jolt through my body, over and over again. I hear someone screaming in the distance and realize it’s me. I feel like I’m having an out of body experience, watching everything from afar. Finally the pain stops. My head is buzzing and my breathing is labored.

“How about now little girl?” I whimper. I can’t get the words to form from my mouth. I’m screaming at him in my head; but my lips haven’t gotten the memo. “One more time for good measure. Turn it back on.”

“Sir,” another man starts but he cuts him off.

“Now!”

The pain is back and it’s worse, I scream as loud as I can, my body shakes and my throat and eyes are burning. This is so much worse than torture, so much worse than I imagined. I focus my vision and it lands on The Winter Soldier. He has moved forward into my line of vision and I center myself with his face. This is how he is helping me. He is trying to keep my grounded. The machine stops again and I pass out.

I’m vaguely aware of someone carrying me back to my cell and gently placing me on the hard mattress. “No, stop.” I keep repeating the words quietly to myself over and over again. I feel something cold against my forehead and I jerk away from it. I open my eyes and see the soldier sitting at the edge of my bed, his hand tracing a pattern on my face.

“Get the fuck away from me,” I tell him, scrambling for the wall behind me.

“Please.” It’s all he says. It’s a simple word; but the meaning is much deeper, I know it is.

“Why?”

“I want to.” He pats the bed next to him and I move a little closer. “Lay down.” I do as he asks and he lays down behind me. My muscles tense as I feel his warm body behind mine and his cool metal arm draped over my waist. “Sleep.” My body understands his command; but my brain is having a hard time with it. It’s going a mile a minute and I can’t shut it down.

“How long?” I whisper, hoping he understands my question.

“I don’t know.” He pulls me a little closer and sleep finally pulls me under.

I wake up screaming only a few hours later and sit straight up. The soldier is kneeling over me and holds my face in his hands, locking my eyes with his. He helps ground me and I nod my head, letting him know I’m done screaming. The adrenaline finally kicks in and I’m sick as a dog. I empty what little I have in my stomach into the toilet and stand on shaky legs. He watches me; but makes no move to help for comfort me.

“Sleep.” He says, motioning for me to come back to the bed.

“No. Answers. I want answers, not sleep.” I’m not sure he will comply; but it’s worth a shot. “How long have you been here?”

“I don’t know.”

“Are there others like you?”

“No.”

“Have they tried before?”

“Yes.”

“What’s your name?”

“I can’t remember.”

Those three little words were like a gut punch. I can’t remember. How horrible for this man. He has no memories of his life before Hydra, nothing happy to think back on and remember. No friends, or family.

“Will you keep me safe?”

“The best I can.”

That was the best I could hope for. I know if they give him a new mission that involves taking me out I’m done for. I just hope he can remember who I am long enough to get out of here; or until I get rescued. They have to be looking for me right?

The few weeks go by agonizingly slow. I spend most of my day hooked up to an IV being tortured and then thrown back into my cell with him. He holds me through my screams of pain, and he helps drive away the nightmares that plague my mind. He is no longer the monster I met, he is someone in just as much pain as I; and I think he needs this comfort just as much as I need it. We have formed a bond; and I know he won’t hurt me. This is the closest to love I think he has experienced that he can remember, and the thought makes my heart ache.

They’ve started torturing me with the sanme trigger words they use on the soldier and he has been locked in his cell the past few days because of it. They don’t want to reset him in the process of breaking me.    

“Longing.” I feel my heart rate accelerate; my body is anticipating what is coming next. The man saying the words smiles when he sees the change in my demeanor.

“Rusted.” I’m fighting the feeling of losing control over my body. I struggle in the chair and huff, the mouth guard muffling the noises.

“Furnace.” My eyes roll to the back of my head and I begin convulsing. This is the furthest they’ve gotten with me and my body seems to want to listen to them. Noises become faded and I’m hardly aware of what is going on around me. Fight this! Don’t let them win!

“Daybreak.” I pop open my eyes and look around the room. My body refuses to move, but I’m fully alert; I’m fighting the effects of the words.

“Seventeen.”

I scream and pull at the restraints. “Let me go!” The machine turns on and I am trapped in the daze of the pain. My body convulses under the pressure of the machine and the blood curdling scream that leaves my lips makes my throat hurt.

“We’re getting closer, we just need a little more time.” I hear the men talking like I’m not even in the room. I’m drenched in sweat and I just want to die.

Where is my team? Why haven’t they found me yet. I’m lifted by familiar arms and carried back to my cell. My soldier is there protecting me. I turn my face into his chest and nuzzle down into the comfort he brings.

“Soldat, stop.” He stops walking but does not turn to face the men. Please, don’t let them figure it out. I don’t want them using the soldier against me. “Drop her off and come back.” I look up at him and he nods. He resumes walking towards my cell and deposits me on the bed.

“Please don’t go to them. They are going to use you against me.” I go to touch his face and he pulls back.

“I have to.” He slams the door behind him and I curl up on my bed to wait. Are they going to send him back to break me himself, or are they going to torture him to get to me. The thought of either makes me sick. I let my exhausted body and mind fall into nothingness and sleep like the dead.

I wake up a while later and the soldier is leaning against the door, arms crossed over his chest and his foot bent at the knee, resting on the bars behind him.

“Who’s Steve Rogers?” He asks. It’s a simple question; but I can see the gears turning in his head.

“Why?”

“Who is he?” He asks, pushing from the wall and striding towards me.

Realization dawn on me. “You’re Sargent Barnes aren’t you?” He stops moving and stands still as if he is frozen. “Steve calls you Bucky. He’s told us all about you, what a good man you are.”

I growl rips from his throat and he is on me in an instant. His hand wrapped around my throat and he pins be against the cement wall. I wrap my fingers delicately over his metal wrist; but I know he won’t hurt me. I can see the war raging behind his eyes. “Who the hell is Bucky?” His face is inches from mine and his eyes are feral. “Answer me.” He commands.

‘You are. I was on a mission, working for Steve, when you captured me. I work with the Avengers, and Steve is one of us.” He relaxes his grip on my throat and I reach out to touch his face. My fingers dance along his cheek bone and he nuzzles his face into my touch. “Bucky, we need to get out of here. How do we escape.”

“We can’t.” He furrows his brows, deep in thought. I can tell he is trying to remember something and the look is gone in an instant.

“What’s your mission Bucky?”

He growls again, something snapping inside him. “I’m not Bucky. Stop calling me that.” He tightens his grip around my throat and my breathing becomes labored.

“Don’t do this Bucky.” I gasp, trying to get more oxygen. “Let me help you remember.” The world around me goes fuzzy and then black. I’m not dead, I can feel movement around me; but I’m not able to move either. I regain consciousness a small while later and I’m alone. The door to my cell has been left open.

I carefully get up and open it, the creak of the metal ringing off the silent walls. I look up and down the corridor and when I see it’s empty, I begin my ascent to leave this hell hole. I hear screaming and I freeze. It’s a blood curdling scream that I’ve become accustomed to over the past few weeks, expect it isn’t mine. I turn to look at the cell across from mine and it’s empty. Bucky!

All the hairs on my neck and arms are standing at attention and I know I can’t leave him. He doesn’t deserve this any more than I do. I run down the hall to the room of torture and I look in through the small window. Bucky is strapped down and is being wiped. The stream of electricity running through his body making him jerk in his restraints. I know he left the cell door open for me to escape, it’s his way of letting me go. They know what he did and he is paying for it.

I take a deep breath, knowing even if I run that I’m not getting out of here alive; and I push open the door. “Stop!” I yell as loud as I can. Someone powers down the machine and everyone stares at me. I don’t look at any of them; my eyes are locked on Bucky’s, my protector. “Let him go.” My request is met with a few laughs and some eye rolls; but I ignore them; taking a few steps closer to the Soldier.

Someone points a gun to my head and I continue my walk, closer to him. “Bucky? Can you hear me?” His eyes don’t leave mine; but he doesn’t answer me either. “Soldat?”

Recognition flashes and he nods his head. My protector isn’t here right now, he’s been replaced with the killer; the beast. He is released from his restraints and he stands, looming over me. This is it, he’s going to break me here in front of all these people. A small sob works its way past my lips and I bite my lip to keep from showing my fear.

“I love you Bucky. I’m so sorry.” I wrap my arms around his waist and press my face into his chest. I keep repeating the words over and over; trying to pull him from his trance.

Something happens then that surprises me and the men around us; he wraps his arms around me and bends down to whisper in my ear. “I’m getting us out of here.”

I look up into his eyes and I see the fire behind them. He’s enraged and he’s on a mission; his own mission. One by one the men in the room are slaughtered. He grabs a scalpel from the table and slices someone’s jugular, blood spurting out everywhere. He grabs my hand and we make our way out of the room, towards the stair to freedom.

Men drop as we swiftly pass them, making our way further into the compound. We get to the last landing before the main floor and I can see daylight streaming in through the windows. I haven’t seen light in a few weeks and it’s a welcome sight. We pick up our speed, taking the steps two at a time, his hand never leaving mine. I hear a loud crack and Bucky goes down, pulling me with him. No! I look behind me and see someone in full tactical gear racing towards us. I look down at Bucky and he’s been shot in the leg. Make him immobile; but don’t kill him. That’s what they are doing.

“Bucky, please I need you to get up. You can’t stay here.”

A loud shattering noise comes from above us and a few people drop down. I recognize Steve and I want to cry I’m so happy. He is going to get us out of here. The other men with Steve take care of the on coming Hydra agents and Steve points his gun down at Bucky. I jump up in front of the barrel, shielding Bucky from him.

“No Steve, he’s not a threat to me. It’s Bucky.” I place my hand on the barrel on the gun and lower it.

“Bucky?” He asks looking over my shoulder at him. I kneel down and help him stand. He leans his weight on me and I wince in slight pain. “Let me take him.” Steve offers his arm but Bucky holds me tighter.

“It’s fine, I’ve got him.” The last thing I want is for Bucky to go back into Soldier mode to keep me safe. “Bucky,” I turn my attention to him, “Steve’s not going to hurt you or me. He’s one of us, one of the good guys. He’s going to get us out of here; we’re safe.”

He nods in understanding and we slowly walk out the front doors to the waiting quinjet. I help strap him in and he takes my hand in his, rubbing his thumb on the back on my hand. I close my eyes, knowing I’m safe; that we’re safe.

[gontagokuhara]

“hey connor, what the hell is happening with jump?

+aka, for those of you looking for answers.

fair warning this is a very long story, and it isn't a very nice one. for the sake of not being a huge asshole, i'll refrain from mentioning the other party by name/url/ao3 handle/whatever, because i'd rather not send the dogs after this person like they were for me.

and to those of you who have been following me since mid-to-late august (around when this whole thing started) (and, coincidentally, when jump became the most popular fic in the dear evan hansen tag on ao3, but we'll ignore that little detail), you might know who the other person is in this whole situation. i know most of my friends do, and for my friends and otherwise please don't go after this person. don't reblog with their name or fic title or whatever, because the point of this post is to serve as an explanation for why jump is going down, not start a manhunt for this other person.

i digress.

around mid-august, i began receiving comments and a few asks regarding a chapter of jump (28, to be specific). in essence, they were saying that i had "ripped off" a certain plot point of a certain fic, which. to be honest i didn't think a whole lot of? because the messages i received didn't say anything about what i had ripped off, just that i had done it.

it came to a point where i messaged the author of this other fic and briefly explained the situation, and made my case. i got a response sometime the next day and it wasn't one i was hoping for.

which, of course, i've accepted that at this point - people think i did plagiarize. the author of the other work thinks that i did. i know that i didn't, but i need to acknowledge and accept that a lot of people think i did.

what i didn't accept was the "term" i was given - to put a note on the chapter in question crediting this author for the "original idea."

which, you know, was offensive to me - because jump had always been my idea. despite what was being said, i knew that i hadn't read the sections of the other fic that i was accused of stealing, before i had published my own chapter. so i couldn't have taken the idea, if that makes sense?

i didn't respond to the other author's message, and that was wrong of me. i know that that was shitty of me to not offer a response, and there isn't really an excuse for that? but it happened, and it was shitty, but.

for the most part, things quieted down for a bit when i posted chapter 29, and i rather naively assumed that things had permanently gone quiet. i'd made an incredibly long statement in the end notes of the chapter, and i said that if anyone wanted to say anything further they could feel free to pm me, because it was counterproductive to yell arguments at each other through my inbox. funnily enough, no one took that offer and messaged me, but i can't say i'm surprised. without the shield of anon, people tend to not disagree so violently.

after 30 got posted, however, things sort of exploded.

immediately people took it upon themselves to leave nasty comments and asks in my inbox, which hurt but at this point i had come to expect it from the whole situation.

sometime after that, the callout was posted.

which, of course, made me freak the fuck out.

what was worse was that i found it on accident; someone reblogged a post of mine with something nasty and i was confused so i checked their blog, and. well.

it had the title of my fic all over it, it was in the main tags, and i knew immediately when asks started piling up that none of them were going to be good. and they weren't. i haven't gotten death threats a whole lot, but that day was definitely a peak in me receiving them.

there was.....a lot in the callout, and it took me a good few hours to get myself to a state where i could read it without freaking out again.

this was early on in the post, where i was accused of shot for shot rewriting sections of a certain chapter of this other fic, when, again, i hadn't read it until chapter 28 was posted and chapter 30 was long since drafted and in the process of being written, but. (the bit of the sentence that is cut off reads "however, as the author of [fic], chapters 28 and 30 read like-")

note how no proof of this is provided, or anything beyond the chapter numbers.

this next bit is from the pm i received from them, and it's interesting in how it reflects the author's...i dont know how to describe it. i suppose arrogance is the best word i can find? for them to insinuate that their work is so well known enough that even if people haven't read it, they'd know about it.

(cut off sentence: “at the very least, the final chapters of [fic] are pretty-”)

the same sentiment is reflected here, in the callout.

the callout also points out that there's no indication of where i got the plot for jump, and that's because i made up the plot. the idea to kickstart the story i got from a prompt blog (here, if you're interested) and it states very explicitly in its terms of submission (here) that anyone submitting an idea for a prompt gives full permission to anyone to use it, credit unnecessary.

so that isn't exactly a 'gotcha!' point.

the last bits of the callout talk about me being rude to fans and making vague posts on tumblr, which. no proof provided so i, again, have no idea what they constitute as rude or vague.

it was.....a lot. and i had no idea what to do. i was scared, and i didn't know how to deal with having the fans of some 26 year old coming after me like that. i shut off anon, and i took a break of a day or so from tumblr, and that was pretty much that?

until two weeks ago, when i received this email from archive of our own:

so, things had obviously escalated. things had moved from calling me out publicly, to moving to get my work deleted. it messed me up pretty bad, and for a while i was freaking out.

after a day or so, a few of my close friends (one of which who has had prolonged access to both the jump writing document and the planning document) and i emailed ao3 with our appeals. i don't currently have copies of my friends' appeals, and all that is in mine was essentially what i've said publicly, with a few mentions of previous incidents. after a two week wait period as they reviewed my appeal, i received this email last night:

it strikes me how again, it's said that i shot for shot (or rather, replaced synonyms and the like) took this fic, but then again i'm not given specific instances, and then in the same paragraph it mentions that "whether you intentionally plagiarized or did it subconsciously after reading their fic, you are still responsible for the content." i don't understand how i could have taken scenes one by one and replaced synonyms, but also "subconsciously" plagiarize?

and, better yet, how can i plagiarize something i hadn't read until after the accused chapter was posted?

let me just say that i don't know for certain it was the author that made the complaint, but i would bet a whole lot on that possibility. even if it wasn't them who made the claim, they have to be notified because it involves their work. so.

and that's essentially where we're at now. jump is being deleted on november 10th, one way or another. and i am so, so angry.

i understand wanting to protect one's work. it's the reason i've maintained my innocence, and appealed to ao3. i want to protect my work from accusations i know aren't true.

but to have something i've worked so hard on for nearly seven months ripped from my hands? it's not fair. it's quite honestly bullshit.

this isn't meant to convince any of you one way or another of what happened, because you can all think for yourselves. whether you believe me or not, at this point it doesn't matter, because jump has already been sentenced to its fate.

but i know what i did and didn't do. i wouldn't still be fighting this if i wasn't sure of my innocence.

i'm angry. i'm going to be angry for a long time. this whole situation has made me fucking hate even looking at my writing anymore. what would possess someone to go so far as to get my work deleted, i don't really know.

as the author has stated, no one really "owns" fanfiction. so what gives them the right to take my work away from me? my accomplishments?

i hold no ill will towards the other author, but i hate this situation and i hate what they've done. i hate that there is someone in their mid twenties out there who has taken it upon themselves to take away a 17 year old's passion project.

am i bitter? yes. and i'm not apologetic for it. i didn't plagiarize anyone in regards to jump, plain and simple. no matter what anyone else says, i know the truth, and the people i care about know the truth, and i can't do a thing about anyone else, so it doesn't really matter.

a few friends have asked for me to make jump available by other means, and i'm considering it. because even though the hits and comments will be deleted, as its always been, jump has been for my own enjoyment. for me to tell a story i think needed to be told. and just because it's being cut short doesn't mean it still isn't worth telling.

if i do make it available elsewhere, i'll let people know. but this is where i leave you for now.

like i said in the beginning of this stupidly long post, please don't go off and attack this author. i'm angry, but taking it out on them will do nothing. it will only make things worse. jump is being deleted, and no amount of nastiness will change that. so we may as all just be nice.

if any of you have anymore questions, feel free to message me or send me an ask. anything general or non-specific i'll answer in asks, but if you have anything you'd like clarification on in regards to specifics, please message me privately.

and. um. i guess that's it?

thanks for reading. i’m sorry. i wish they hadn’t taken it this far.