#i lied i wrote those two fics not that long ago

[hungharrington]

Thinking about Steve cumming quickly - like under 30 seconds of thrusting because he's just so in love with you he couldn't help it

He hides his face in your neck afterwards all embarrassed and you rub his back to bring him back down from the intensity of it all

To add to this - he also has certain triggers that make him cum immediately.

You say you love him, he cums. You scratch at his tummy/happy trail, he cums. You gently pull on his hair, he cums.

My apologies if these thoughts have already been given but it's all I've been thinking about this morning 😭😭

a most delicious ask i’ve been hoarding 🫶 i LOVE all these thoughts i’m sry i didn’t get to incorporate all of them !! is this hot? idk…. but it’s got sum love in it tehe MDNI this entire blog is 18+

Look, Steve Harrington doesn’t have his reputation for nothing, okay?

He’s a ladies man, through and through. He knows exactly what he’s doing with his hands, he loves getting his face in between a pair of thighs, and perhaps most importantly, he is not a minute man.

Steve Harrington has stamina.

At least, he certainly thought he did— but that was before you. But in his defense, nobody told him that sex is a hundred times better when you love the person. A thousand better if they love you back.

And, god, does he fucking love you.

You’re a dream— all laid out on the bed beneath him, chest bare and eyes soft and heavy. Your lips are sheened with spit and all kiss-bitten and Steve has no doubt he looks the same. Kissing you never gets old. His cock throbs, aching for some friction and just begging to be buried inside you.

“Well?” You say, somewhere between a tease and a breathy gasp. “What’re you waiting for?”

Your fingers slip into the waistband of your panties but Steve is quick to knock them away, replacing them with his own hands. He grins up at you, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Can’t let you do my favourite part now, can I?”

You giggle. With that his fingers start to trail down your naval, slow and sensually, dragging the fabric with them. Your hips move to accommodate him and your breath hitches as he drags them down your thighs that part as he wrangles them off your ankles, inviting him in.

Steve nearly groans at the mere sight—a hot surge twisting in his tummy that goes straight to his cock. God, he must be losing blood with how much blood is rushing to harden it up. Or maybe he’s just too enamoured with you and that’s enough to make him breathless. Either way, he’s aching.

“God, baby,” He says, voice gravelly. “Just look at you.”

His hands shift up from grasping lightly at your ankles up, up, up, til he’s nudging your thighs apart further. His dark eyes flick up to your face, his expression one of hunger.

“Y’so pretty, honey,” He coos.

You flush, feeling somehow more naked at his compliment, knowing he’s being sincere. Reaching up, you drape your hand around his neck and urge him forward slowly, pressing up to scrape your lips against his.

“Oh, yeah?” You breathe, your lips twitching up at the obvious way Steve’s breath catches in his throat. “Which part of me’s so pretty?”

Steve chuckles, his gaze switching between your own and says, “All of you,” before he kisses you like he’s starved of the taste of you.

Breaking the kiss, he leans back and his hand disappears into his bedside table for a condom. He makes quick work of it, pausing to give himself a firm squeeze around the base as he does— fuck, he’s going to bust the moment he gets inside of you if he doesn’t take a moment.

But you’re so damn hot — and eyeing him with a heavy desire that makes his tummy hot. He’s not sure he can wait.

He shifts himself up and settles on his hands on your thigh, pushing it back further so he can line himself up and sink in tantalisingly slow. Your cunt is warm and wet, drawing a whiny moan from his throat, and Steve’s head drops into the curve of your shoulder in an instant.

“Fuck,” He hisses, hips flexing to hold back from pushing himself all the way in—a near impossible task considering the breathy little noise you make. God, fuck, fuck, he can’t move another inch or he’ll lose it. “Fuck, baby, you feel so good.” He gasps.

Your arms looped around his neck tighten, pressing your chest up against his as you make a noise of agreement. You begin to mouth lazily up his throat, feeling the throb of his cock between your legs like a heartbeat, burning hotter and hotter.

“Cmon, Steve,” you whisper, nibbling at his earlobe. Steve keens, his hips shoving forward bit more as he tries to contain himself. “Want you to fuck me,”

He makes another pitiful noise that he’d probably be embarrassed of if he wasn’t so gone. He follows your instructions quickly, shifting his hips so he can start slowing fucking into you. It’s lewd, soft wet noises sounding as he builds up a rhythm, sinking himself into you over and over. Pleasure drools through his gut.

“Stevie,” you pout, panting lightly. “Can’t— can’t see you,” You tug on his hair lightly, trying to encourage his face out of hiding but only succeeding in making him whimper. His cheeks burn hotly but he forces his face up, kissing along your jaw as he does.

His eyes crease open as he pulls back and Steve keens at the sight of you, his plush lips parting in a soft pant. Fuck, what was wrong with him? Normally he’d be still murmuring filthy things into your skin, marking up your neck while his hips roll into you, all does that feel good? and oh, it does when you moan in response.

Instead, he’s the one coming apart and beyond his words. You scrape your hand through his hair again and leave it cupped sweetly on his jaw, your eyes watching closely. Swatching your thumb across his cheek, you moan lightly, “Wanna -uh- wanna see your face, baby— love your pretty face,”

Something tightens up in Steve’s tummy, heat flourishing up his spine and he whimpers loudly, the roll of his hips turning the rapid, jerky thrusts in a moment. Skin slaps against skin and you make the cutest noise at the change of pace. It feels so good—too good. He feels too close, his pleasure scratching the edge of release.

Then you stutter out a breathy, “I love you, Steve,” and the coil in his stomach snaps without warning.

Steve gasps loudly and his entire body tightens, his face burying itself in you neck as his hips fuck into your snug cunt desperately. He all but collapses onto you, his hands curling around your waist tightly as he lets out a string of pathetically whiny noises, coming undone far too quickly.

It takes a moment for you to realise what’s happened— to figure out exactly why Steve suddenly sinks him cock into you with fervor and is whimpering in your ear. He’s trembling lightly you realise, as your arms sweep down his back, letting him fuck through his orgasm.

The pleasure of it drags out and by the time it tapers out, mortification begins to set in. Steve’s only glad he’s hidden his face so you can’t see his flaming cheeks. Fuck. Fuck. He’s never finished that fast before.

“I’m so sorry, you just feel— and you said—” He starts, voice sounding wrecked.

“Don’t apologise,” you interrupt sweetly. You stroke down his back soothingly and Steve can’t help but shiver. He groans loudly.

“Don’t apologise for finishing after 1 minute like a 16 years old virgin?” He asks, going for sarcastic but failing with the embarrassment tinting his tone.

You can’t help but giggle, hand still sweeping over his back comfortingly as you say, “I don’t think that was even a minute, babe.”

Steve groans louder, attempting to press his face further into your neck and nipping at it when you laugh a little louder. You’re being way too sweet about this. Steve’s not sure he can ever show his face again.

“I’m banning you from saying ‘i love you’ in bed,” He says, the words muffled against your skin. You huff another laugh, grinning, and comb your fingers through his hair.

“Boo.” You pout, knowing he’s joking completely. You’re still throbbing and aching for him to keep moving but you know you only have to be patient. He’ll fuck you just as you need it. “You’re no fun.”

“I used to have stamina,” He whines. “What have you done to me?”

You chuckle again, turning and pressing a kiss to his temple as best you can. “Turned you full loverboy. Soon enough, any time I say I love you, you’ll pop a boner.”

From within you, you feel the soft twitch of his dick and Steve’s breath hitches again. He finally digs his face out of your neck, a serious furrow between his brows. “Don’t even joke about that!”

#after many many moons…. a wild jay appears #i lied i wrote those two fics not that long ago #sorry it’s more lovey and less subby! #i’m in my lovergirl era almost always #anon #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve x reader #jay writes #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader smut #steve smut #wrote this while high so if there’s mistakes take it up with my manager

[shadowsingercassia]

Stupid Headache

Cassian x reader

Fluffy

Summary: you wake up with a headache so your mate, the war general Cassian takes care of you

Warnings: implied smut (only two mentions don't get excited), inappropriate language (only one curse word idk it just didn't stick in any of the story)

Ignore any grammatical errors, please

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You open your eyes and are greeted by blinding sunlight, coming through your and your mate's shared bedroom.

A moment later a sharp pain hits you. A headache. "Great, a stupid headache" you thought. Little did you know, your little message went down the bond.

The bathroom door opens and your mate's head pops through. "Goodmorning gorgeous. Need anything?" Cassian asks, his tone impossibly soft.

He had just gotten out of the shower. A towel is wrapped around his hips a bit too low and with another towel he was drying his dripping wet hair.

You squint your eyes because of the light. "Can you please close the curtains?" you moan as another wave of pain strikes.

The corners of Cassian's lips tilt upwards. He gently places down the towel he was holding and walks to the balcony window. His hands grab the curtains and drag them closed.

Then, he kneels down the bed beside you and places a soft kiss to your forehead. "My beautiful mate" he whispers.

Your heart melts with those sweet words. You start to remember how you two became mates. You did that occasionally, as if you can't really seem to believe it. Deep down, you thought you didn't deserve him and he constantly tried to comfort you, but you didn't budge.

The mating bond snapped a few months ago when Cassian came home, after Rhys sent him to the Illyrian camps for some weeks and you had ran to make something for Cassian the moment you felt it. You had grabbed his hand and led him to the kitchens.

Cassian had practically exploded of happiness. You, his mate.

After that, the mating frenzy took place. You two haven't left the bedroom for three weeks but you couldn't lie, the sex was great.

Now, you lied in bed and Cassian was stroking your cheek, kneeled by your side.

"Let me go put on some clothes I wouldn't want you getting ideas now, would I?" he teased and you couldn't help but giggle. Your mate always liked to tease you.

After he put on grey sweatpants and a black tunic he props himself on one elbow next to you.

"Want me to get you some tea from Madja, sweetheart?" he asks and his hand finds your cheek again. He strokes small circles with his thumb.

"Yes please" you reply, while pain comes in long, dizzying waves. Cassian leans in and gives you a peck on your lips. You both smile, butterflies dance in your stomach.

How lucky you are to have a mate like Cassian. Who cuddles you to sleep, takes care of you when you're not feeling well, worships you like you're his godess.

Once he came back you had drifted off to a peaceful sleep. Cassian places the tea on your nightstand and kisses your forehead.

He pulls the covers up to your chin and lays down next to you. Shit, he forgot he had a meeting with Rhysand. Fuck the meeting Cassian thought Rhys will understand.

He cuddled you for the rest of the day. By early afternoon you woke up and found Cassian next to you. He was asleep, some strands of hair falling on his face.

Your headache was still there. You eventually turned around and found the tea on your nightstand. Stupid headache you thought playfully as you drank the tea, smiling widely at your mate's sleeping form

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Author's note: hi everyone today I had woken up with a severe headache and thought of this scenario. It's probably not the best and I would appreciate any feedback on my writing. I deeply hope you enjoyed reading this fic. I also accept requests!

Love, Cassia

I can't believe I just wrote a fic! (even if it's very short)

#cassian #acotar #velaris #a court of thorns and roses #headache #fanfic #cassian x reader #cassian fluff #cassian acotar #cassian x you #cassian x y/n #cassian imagine #acotar fluff #acotar fanfiction

[jungkookstatts]

Massage Envy

[Summary]: Jungkook’s been stressed these days. What’s a better way to relax him other than a massage?

[Theme]: Established relationship!AU

[Rating]: 18+, explicit content, blow job, slight ass play, fluff if you squint, lots of making out, very sensual lovin’

[Word Count]: 4,939

[Author’s Note]: This is so descriptive 😀. I wanna say this was one of the first fan fics I wrote…at least of JK. So, bare with it. I tried to edit my terrible writing as much as I could ㅜㅡㅜ

[Masterlist] [Taglist]

“Feel good?” you question as you dig your thumbs into your boyfriend’s shoulders. You sigh happily, knowing that the man beneath you is receiving some form of release, as your fingers circulate into his honey skin. The knots in Jungkook’s muscles completely unravel beneath your fingertips, and you’re determined to unravel every last one of them for the rest of the night. He deserves it, anyways.

You wanted to give your boyfriend relief after the hell he put himself through this week. Jungkook knew it too – his body was too spent to deny help at this point, and the only person he is comfortable with seeing himself this way is you. So, of course, he readily gave himself to you, allowing you to rub away at the damage and replace it with your tender touches.

Jungkook groans in response to you, languidly nodding his head against the pillows. Sitting just below his ass, you press his body further into your shared mattress as you continue to work your hands lovingly into his skin.

Your boyfriend lies face-down on his side of the bed; his long, black hair is fanned out across the silk cover of the pillowcase, creating a little black halo of hair around his skull. The room is somewhat dark, only Jungkook’s table lamp lighting up the small corner of your shared bedroom. The light perfectly reflects the shine of his hair, and you can’t help but admire how well taken care of it is as he shifts his head into a non-verbal “yes”.

“I lovfe yhou sooooo much, bahbe–” Jungkook muffled against the pillow, his face totally smushed in the depths of the fabric. He sounds completely relaxed – voice scratchy and spent – as he allows himself to completely surrender to your touch.

Flustered at his confession, you work your thumbs harder into the knots on his shoulders, loving the way he immediately tenses and then relaxes as you smooth out the tightness within them.

Jungkook came home from practice today tense as a board. His muscles were rock hard, he couldn’t seem to sit still or take the time to breathe correctly, and he had a headache so frustrating and annoying he looked as if he was going to cry.

For the past few days, the man’s been training nonstop, working his body to the breaking point on one day and then working past that point on the next. You knew telling him to just “calm down” or “take a break” would fly right past his head – in one ear and out the other. It is not very useful advice, either. But you’re not good with words, and you didn’t have the right ones to say at the moment, either.

Your boyfriend is stubborn and is probably the most meticulous perfectionist you know; finding a way to comfort him when he is like this is not easy. He almost always goes his own way to get things done, refusing to allow anyone to interfere or help. Jungkook has told you before that it is like receiving a punch to the face when someone notices he looks off or thinks that he needs help with something he has been working on really hard on his own. He wants to appear strong and capable, regardless of his condition. Especially to you.

It has gotten better over time, though. The longer you explore each other, the better he feels about reaching out to you for comfort or help. You love seeing the transformations the two of you have overcome within yourselves since starting a relationship all those years ago. You two have really changed so much.

The smile on your face as Jungkook willingly slumped against you at the mention of a massage reminded you of that change. How, if you were to ask him if you could give him one because of his state a few years ago, he would have totally missed out on the opportunity. But now, he completely embraces your help, your concern, all of you, and all of himself – flaws and all.

“Love you, too,” you chuckle before leaning down to kiss his shoulder affectionately. Reaching for the peach-scented body oil on his nightstand, you quickly pop the lid open and tilt the bottle over his back. The oil slowly trickles onto his skin, the shallow lighting making the liquid on his honey skin all the more self-evident. It tempts you as it slides down his back in slow, thick drops.

“You need to take better care of yourself, babe,” you reprimand him as you spread the oil down to his lower back. “You can’t continue to improve if you don’t listen to your body.”

You watch the pinkish oil smear between your fingers as you touch his skin. The intimacy of the moment and the low lighting of the room makes something within you stir. Giving each other massages isn’t a foreign task between you two. In fact, they’ve developed into small mannerisms of affection in your relationship. They usually shift between gentle rubs on the shoulders while waiting for the other to finish up some online work, a hand massage whilst holding hands, or a tummy rub after eating one too many king-sized spicy ramen bowls. They are small gestures that both you and Jungkook admire.

But something about this massage – right when he needs it the most – makes the butterflies in your tummy relentlessly flutter their wings. The fluster it creates within you prompts you to circle your thumbs deeply along the outer muscles of his spine. Judging from the way he physically jolts as you work the area, you assume that the muscles there were abused the most over the last few days. You keep that in mind as you continue kneading his back.

“Mmhmmm – ahh jagiya — right there,” he groans, dismissing your earlier statement. The way your hands have found nearly every sore spot on his back has Jungkook completely blissed out. It feels so good – almost orgasmic, even – when your fingers rub away at the tension he ignored for so long. It has him thanking the heavens for your wonderful hands and simultaneously cursing at himself for not acknowledging them more in the past.

He must worship them later, he’s decided.

Listening to your boyfriend, you move your fingers firmly down near the lowest parts of his spine, which evokes an even deeper moan from his throat. You can hear it loud and clear, even though the front of his body is pushed like a brick against the sheets as you work your hands on him. It’s so deep, it sends heavy shocks throughout his entire body (and yours).

Sitting on top of him, you can’t help but blush. You aren’t a rock – of course, his moans would spark the dirtiness within you to flush your cheeks into a dark hue. No matter the innocent intent you had prior to the massage, you can’t deny your boyfriend’s reactions to your touches make your pussy ache for more.

He sounds so sexy and raptured. The way he groans when you hit the spots he can’t reach, and the way he whines when you massage the spots that are the tensest – all of it has your cheeks hot and your thighs feeling like jello. You wonder if he can feel the pool between your thighs grow with each moan that physically vibrates through his body and straight to your core.

But this massage is not about you, and these dirty thoughts have no place here. Especially when you’re trying so graciously to knead his muscle-y, hot, tense, sexy back with domestic care. Yep, they have no place here. No place at all. Even though the angle you sit at gives you the perfect view of his toned ass. In fact, you have the perfect view of his entire backside. With every massage against a sore spot, his thighs flex underneath you and unknowingly lift you higher until they relax again.

It’s all too much…his back, skin, ass, thighs, arms… the way he whimpers and moans and tenses from your fingers alone. How can you stay innocent when sounds so sweet underneath you?

You can’t help but want to please him in a different way now – still with your hands, and still to bring him to the pit of relaxation. Just…in a different area…for a different part of the brain.

Your stare wanders around his back. His broad shoulders are wide and stretched out for you, his forearms resting just underneath his pillow while his biceps poke out from the pillow like a triangle, supporting his head from underneath. The skin of his shoulders teases you with memories of when they had the reddest of scratches and the purplest of love bites covering the large surface. You have to make him feel that kind of good tonight. Maybe even better.

Challenging him, you lift your ass off his upper thighs and bring your lips to the very base of his neck before kissing the skin there softly. It’s feather-light, testing the waters before you dive in. You can feel the goosebumps appear under the hand that still works his muscles at his lower back. The other slowly slides up the side of his chest with ease. With the help of the oil, your hand against his warm skin slides like silk underneath your fingertips, feeling his body underneath you slowly and sensually.

Jungkook shivers as your mouth hovers above his skin, waiting for what you’ll do next. He gulps as you make your next move, sucking on the skin you just kissed. Your tongue is so hot and wet, lapping and sucking at his skin with slow passion. He whimpers underneath you, loving the way your touch turned from moral to intimate.

Jungkook would be lying if he said the whole experience wasn’t just as sexy for him, too. You turned him on from the moment you sat on the back of his thighs and dripped the hot oil onto his back. Your heat is so obvious to him – your heartbeat thumping through your pussy, gathering more heat against his thighs with each garbled moan and whimper that left his mouth. You are basically dripping through your night shorts. Although, he cannot tease you for it, because his own cock painfully pokes against the fabric of the mattress as you sit on his ass.

Your hand pressing on his lower back parallels the motion of your hand on the opposite side, just underneath his arm. Both glide to his upper back with the help of the oil as you begin to kiss down his spine. You manage to find a place between a few pecks against his spine to whisper, “Turn around for me,”

And he does in a heartbeat, immensely determined to feel you on his lap. Jungkook doesn’t know if he can wait anymore. He wants to feel you brushing against his length as you spread oil all over his chest and abs. He wants your hands on him again, to feel your fingers torture his skin and keep him begging for more. The thought alone has blood rushing straight to his already straining cock in his tight boxers.

Once settled, you softly plop yourself right on top of his dick, sending him a smirk whilst his jaw tightens at the feeling of his cock resting beneath your core. Jungkook looks at you with need, his bottom lip tortured underneath his front teeth as he watches you start to move your hips tremendously slow against his.

You can feel the way his dick twitches when you place your oily hands firmly against his lower abs, slowly moving up toward his nipples. You rest your hand flat on his chest, trapping his nipples between your index and middle finger. Jungkook lets out an airy grunt as you leisurely bring the two digits together, gently pinching the sensitive buds between them. Jungkook’s breath hitches in his chest as you start to move your fingers with his nipples trapped between them, the sensitivity exciting him beyond belief.

Your hands leave his nipples and continue their northern journey up to his clavicles, then to his neck, and finally his jaw. Softly holding his face in your hands, you lower your face to his. Jungkook’s eyes close in anticipation, his face gently pressing up towards yours, expecting to be kissed. He whines when you antagonize him with just a light brush of your lips against his.

Jungkook breathes deeply against your mouth, exhaling in torment and inhaling with the highest level of self-control he can muster.

“Please,” he begs just above a whisper.

Eyes closed and a tortured wrinkle between his brows, he waits for your lips to break the tension. He is so patient and willing tonight, so you decide to reward him with a firm press of your lips to his, moving against his soft mouth surely.

You can feel the vibration of the moan he lets out from his lips smacking against yours. His voice travels straight to your core, prompting your hips to circle his own faster in search of friction.

Jungkook swipes his tongue against your lips, feeling the desire for your tongue to dance with his own. His hands come up to your jaw, holding you in place against his mouth as if you’d run away if he didn’t hold you there himself.

Jungkook grunts at the way your hips harshly grind against his. He wants more of you – he always wants more of you – but his head is too fuzzy with pleasure to think straight. You’re kissing him stupid.

His body acts on its own, his large hands moving from your jaw to under your night shirt. Hot palms follow his desire to feel you as he cups the area just under your boobs, thumbs swiping back and forth against the skin underneath them. He can feel your heartbeat thumping rapidly underneath his palm, prompting him to lightly circle his thumb over the aroused area of your breast. Jungkook’s mouth still moves in tandem with yours as he tweaks your nipples in between his fingertips.

Jungkook groans at the way you gently bite on his lower lip before trailing your kisses down to his neck. He only gets louder when you find his sweet spot before he can even process the fact that you’re sucking on his neck. Jungkook’s head falls back onto the pillows as his hands move down to grip your ass in his hands. Groping both cheeks firmly, he pulls them apart before grinding them down harshly onto his bulge, giving one of them a harsh smack out of his pure arousal.

You attack his neck, forming bruise after bruise on his precious skin. Your boyfriend flushes his body into yours from pleasure. You want to wreck him so badly. Feeling evil and lustrous, you bite his sweet spot hard, overcome by the man underneath you. Jungkook’s mouth falls open at the feeling, head pressing further against the cushion of the pillow.

Still kissing his neck, you reach for the bottle on the nightstand, pop the lid open with your thumb, and tip the bottle over his chest. The oil runs all over his tanned skin, slowly covering it with a teasing glow over his chest and abs. Raising your head, you stare down at the man beneath you lovingly, looking into his eyes with lust as you continue to grind on his cock firmly.

Your hands venture from his chest to his clavicles, shoulders, arms, and hands, and then back to his pecks, stopping briefly to play with his nipples again.

Jungkook’s breath hitches in his throat as you roll them between your fingers, his eyes fluttering slightly as he tries his hardest to keep eye contact with you.

Impulsively, his hips buck into your own when you come down to suck one into your mouth, licking and biting at the sensitive area of his chest. Jungkook tries to control his breathing, he really does, but it feels so good. Too good. And you haven’t even touched his dick yet.

Grinning at the way his chest uncontrollably tightens from your mouth, you reach for more oil before dripping the liquid down his abs. It trickles over his pack, the six defined rolls acting as hills when the oil attempts to slip over each one.

Picking up the pace, you move your hips faster against him. You watch his eyes flutter closed, enjoying the way your thinly clothed core rubs against the front of his Calvin’s. His cock is completely hard and throbbing against you. You’re driving him mad with everything that is you. He could cum right now if you’d let him, but he knows better.

Fingers spreading the oil across his abs, you enjoy the way your boyfriend’s eyebrows fuse together in pure satisfaction. Jungkook’s head feels dazed and light when you begin to kiss him on the skin just below his ear.

“Look at me, Jungkook,” you whisper against the cartilage of his ear.

Jungkook shivers at your voice in his ear, listening to your breathy sighs against his skin, feeling your wet lips kiss him from his ears to his neck, to his chest, all the way down to his clothed dick behind his black boxers. He stares at you like you asked him to, watching you intensely as you rest between his thighs, lightly kissing his covered shaft.

Jungkooks fists ball the sheets beside him, his head falling back at the feeling before quickly returning back to your gaze.

“Please,” he begs you again, cheeks flushed, ears red, and breath heavy from the teasing you have given him. He tries his best not to buck his hips at you, channeling the desire in his throat instead, swallowing harshly and waiting patiently to be touched.

Jungkook groans when he watches your mouth lick from his base to tip on the thin fabric, tongue teasing his cock.

“Nghhh–” he whines, briefly tilting his head back again in an effort to keep his control. “Fuck, please, baby. I need you so bad.”

Wrapping your lips around his clothed head, you hum deeply against him, sending shocks of ecstasy throughout his entire cock. Jungkook’s thighs tense at the feeling, trying to direct the pressure to his legs instead of having it tempt his vision from falling back again. He needs you, and the only way you will give him what he wants is if he does what is asked of him.

“Okay, baby,” you finally give in, chuckling a little when he sighs loudly in relief. He truly doesn’t know how long he is going to last in your mouth, but he knows for a fact he’s probably going to have one of the best orgasms of his life from just your mouth alone.

Hooking your index fingers under the waistband of his boxers, you slowly and gently tug them down his legs and onto the floor, watching his cock spring up in excitement.

The sight has your mouth watering immediately – dick red and angry, just asking to be sucked on. Licking your lips, you softly cup his balls in one hand and grip the base of his cock in the other. Jungkook’s head falls back, biting his lip so hard he swears he will bleed. His fists scratch at the mattress, trying his best not to release from finally being touched in the area he’s been begging for release from.

“Watch me, Jungkook, or I’ll stop,” you command, giving his balls a squeeze.

“Okay–ffuckk–o-okay,” he moans, quickly bunching up the pillows behind his head to get a better look at you. Jungkook gulps at the sight: your lips are so wet, basically drooling on his cock. Your hands grip his dick in the way he loves best, your face so determined to give him pleasure. He’s never seen anything so goddamn sexy before in his life. And to think you’re all his…the fact makes him go absolutely insane underneath you.

You lick at his tip teasingly, keeping eye contact with him to make sure he’s not taking his eyes off you. Jungkook stares back at you with drunken eyes. He’s flushed and obedient to whatever you do to him, ready for you to play with his pleasure.

You can’t help but give in, teasing him again with your tongue along his frenulum, lapping it up and down on the sensitive fold.

Your hands slowly pump the base of his cock, palms gliding well with the help of the oil from earlier. You don’t go all the way up to his tip, just to edge him further.

“G-god, you’re so fffucking mean,” he laughs tightly in his chest. He’s struggling, but it only makes you smile, loving that he knows that you’re the one in charge tonight.

Looking at his chest as you move your mouth from his frenulum to the tip of his head, smiling at the way he tries to keep his calm when you slick your tongue up and down across the most sensitive part of him. Lips wrapping around his angry tip, you suck him harshly as your wrists flick slowly up and down the rest of his cock, twisting all the way up to your mouth and back down to the base.

“A-ahhh, j-jagi,” Jungkook whines, hands trapping your hair tightly in his fists.

You stare at him the whole time, watching his face go from frustrated to pure euphoria as he struggles to keep his eyes open. After a few more strokes of his cock, one of your twisting hands leaves his dick to skim your fingertip across the skin connecting his balls to his shaft.

Your tongue delves further down his dick, your mouth following afterward, sinking down onto him completely, your nose nudging the skin of his pelvis.

“Nghhh..!” he nearly shouts, legs tensing – almost kicking – against the bedding.

Jungkook’s eyes come back and forth between the back of his skull and your face a few times before you swallow his top at the back of your throat. At this point, his grip on your hair is so tight, your own eyes start to roll back in pleasure.

Jungkook moans so loudly into the empty air of your bedroom that you feel your own slick start to uncomfortably drip down the side of your thigh. Your cunt is pulsing and hot, begging for friction as you deliver pleasure to your sweet boyfriend.

He is just so sexy like this, struggling to follow your demand whilst receiving euphoric pleasure. Your pussy can’t take it anymore, and you suddenly find yourself reaching your free hand down past your night shorts, circling your clit as you trace the outer rim of his ass with your other hand.

Swallowing a few more times around him, you bring your mouth back up to his tip only to sink back down on him again. Gathering a semi-quick pace to fuck him with, you watch his face and thigh muscles contort in euphoric unison. The finger gently plays with his ass coming back and forth between his balls, shaft, and ass as you bob your head up and down on him, your tongue swirling around him altogether.

Jungkook is going absolutely mad, whimpering and moaning as you continue to wrap him around your pretty little finger, watching your beautiful face fuck him with your mouth willingly. Just cause you want to.

It takes everything in him not to say "fuck it" and buck his hips violently into your mouth. He fights his pleasure and your set rule in a bloody war between obedience and desire. You can tell with the way his eyes struggle to not find purchase at the back of his head, and the way his dick twitches in your mouth every so often. His reactions have you rubbing at yourself harder, and before long, you moan into him as your slick gathers around your fingers.

Jungkook hadn't noticed you started touching yourself until now. The slick from your pussy snaps in the air as you harshly rub your fingers against yourself. Jungkook's eyes trail from your face to your hand, circling yourself fast and hard between your legs. At the sight, his thighs tense harshly against you, threatening to close around your body and trap you tightly between his legs. His toes curl at the sight of you touching yourself, the scene so sexy that his cock twitches uncontrollably in your mouth. Pushing a finger into his ass from the loss of eye contact, you watch his eyes and head go back completely, giving up on your request as your finger finds his prostate.

"Ahh, ah—mGHhhh, ba-baby...gonna cum. I'm gonna cum—" He moans euphorically. Jungkook pushes your head down onto his cock quickly, his hips bucking upwards into your throat.

He thrusts into your mouth now, completely disobeying himself and your word. But after seeing you touch yourself just from sucking him off, he can’t listen to anything else but his desire.

You choke against him, tears forming at the edges of your eyes. Jungkook's head seizes deep into the cushion of the pillows, neck tense and strained as he completely empties his balls into your mouth, the hot thick ropes of his release filling you up. You take all of him, refusing to waste a drop.

You keep trailing your finger in, out, and around his balls and ass as you suck his cum into your mouth for what felt like a full minute, watching him pant and moan your name incoherently as he does so. You take it all graciously, enjoying the way his gratefulness for you shows in the way he continues to release himself.

Lifting your mouth from his cock, you rest your forehead against his upper thigh as you whimper and gasp against him. Not soon after, your cunt gushes all over your fingers, letting it soak your panties and shorts. You moan against his thigh while your fingers work through the last few waves of your orgasm.

The two of you breathe harshly against each other for a few minutes. Your bodies sink into the mattress heavily, allowing yourselves to take the time to catch your breath. That is until you break the silence with a shy giggle.

"What's—" He rasps, clearing his throat before continuing. "What's so funny?"

You hum, kissing his thigh lovingly before looking up to his fucked-out face. "You made me cum my pants."

"Heh," He smiles, leaning his head back against the pillows again, giving you a sickeningly hot view of his neck. You watch his Adam's apple move up and down from his next words "Yeah, well, I think you gave me the best head I've ever received in my life. Didn't think sucking cock would make you cum that hard, though."

"I always feel like that when I suck your cock," You smirk, to which Jungkook eyes you, telling you not to make him horny again. You chuckle before climbing up his body to kiss his lips.

Jungkook can't help but smile against you, though still completely dazed from his orgasm. He doesn't care in the slightest that he can taste himself on your lips. He only cares about the way your lips slowly tuck into his in soft, drawn-out motions.

"I love you," You mumble against his cherry lips.

"I love you, too," He smiles sweetly, tucking your hair behind your ear. "Thank you for taking care of me. I know I can ignore self-care sometimes, but I'll try to be better. For both you and me."

Smiling at his words, you kiss the tip of his nose before nuzzling your face into his neck, breathing his familiar scent deeply.

"Although, if I get that kind of treatment every time I go overboard..."

You pinch his shoulder, eliciting a sexy chuckle from his chest.

"Shut up, loser. Acknowledge my massage."

Jungkook turns himself into you, pulling you closer into his chest whilst laughing deeply in your ear, his breath lightly tickling the side of your neck.

"Your massage was wonderful," He whispers, kissing your forehead sweetly. "Let me give you one next time, yeah?"

Taking a deep breath against his chest, you tightly wrap your arm under his, hand coming to grab at his shoulder. Jungkook hugs you as you tighten around his body. His fingers gently trap your chin between them, moving your face up to his.

Jungkook stares at you questionably, waiting for a response. He looks at you with one eyebrow raised, and the other relaxed. The tiny mole underneath his bottom lip is extremely visible from where you stare up at him. His cherry lips tempt you yet again, swollen and red from harsh tugs delivered against them earlier this evening. You watch his dark brown eyes stare down at your own puffy lips. He gives in first, letting his lips feel the velvet of your own. Jungkook sighs into you, rubbing your back soothingly as he swipes and brushes his lips against yours like honey.

Pulling away, you look at his face, feeling an overwhelming amount of love surge through your entire body. He keeps his eyes closed, basking in the feeling of your body so close to his.

"I'd like that," You whisper against his cheek. Jungkook opens his eyes again, tugging his lips upwards as he slowly nudges his nose against yours.

After a few more moments, he gently scoops you into his arms, lifting you up in his strong hold, before carrying you to the bathroom to clean you two up.

----

[End. Do not copy. Original work of @jungkookstatts , 2023]

#jk #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jeon #jeongguk #jungkook x reader #jungkookxreader #jungkook fanfiction #jungkookfanfiction #jungkook fanfic #jungkookfanfic #jungkook x y/n #jungkookxy/n #jungkook x female reader #jungkookxfemalereader #jungkook imagine #jungkookimagine #jungkook oneshot #jungkookoneshot #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #btsfanfic #bts imagine #btsimagine

[mrsnegan]

Hey I was wondering if you could do a fic with Negan who is addicted to the reader’s thighs and chest? 🥵🥵🥵

[Hey! I'm so sorry for the long wait, here's a little thing I wrote for your request. 🤤🔥]

Warnings: a bit of angst, smut, a bit of fluff, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, unprotected sex, a bit of cumplay

"Damn baby, I love you", Negan breathed against her neck, peppering her skin with hot kisses.

"Don't you lie to me, you're just desperate to fuck me, that's a difference", she answered a bit breathlessly, trying her best not to believe all those delicious words coming out of his glorious mouth.

"Why so sassy, Y/N? It's the fucking truth."

She pushed him away a bit to look into his eyes. She wanted to believe him, God forbid she wanted so desperately to be loved by him, but his mouth had spun lies in the past, how could she trust his words in a heated moment like this?

"How should I prove it to you?"

"Funny you're asking, maybe start with dumping your wives, then we can talk again about love."

She could see the desire in his eyes fogging over with anger, then, as fast as she had noticed it, it was gone again. He looked tired now, though somehow still adoring her scowling face.

"You know I can't do that, not now anyway. I need to keep that image up, need to lead those peoples. Now more than ever. But I do fucking love you, Y/N, believe it or not."

Her eyes drifted towards his lips, then up to his eyes again. She desperately needed to believe him, even if she had doubts about his words. In his gaze she could swear she saw what he truly felt and that his words were coming straight from the heart. So she sighed, taking his handsome face between her hands to press a kiss onto his lips.

He hummed approvingly, deepening the kiss while pushing her backwards onto her back.

"Let me at least make it up to you, I know how much you love my tongue", he spoke between kisses, his hands already busy with pushing her skirt up which she had solely put on for him.

"You're so full of yourself, Negan", she answered, but enjoyed how his fingers were tracing her thighs upwards.

"Oh darling, you soon will be fucking full of me too."

She wanted to respond to his foul and self-assured words, though his fingers possessively gripped the flesh of her thighs, pushing them apart to better settle between them.

"You have no fucking idea how much I love your thighs. So fleshy and mine." With his strong grip he was sure to leave tiny bruises, but Y/N couldn't care less.

With his signature smirk, he looked at her, before he again kissed the tender flesh of her neck, his hands travelling from her thighs towards her chest. He groped her breasts through her shirt, letting out a gluttoral sound.

"And your tits, they're out of this damn world. So round and also all mine."

Punctuating the last two words, he also pushed up her shirt, baring her breasts to his heated gaze because she had forgone a bra for a reason. His tongue was fast to close around one of her nipples, sucking it into his welcoming mouth.

The moans now leaving her were delicious sounds in his ears, so he continued his ministrations with her other one, switching between her breasts.

"Fuck, Negan", she groaned, feeling her panties dampen by the second. She wanted so desperately to feel him, the power he had over her made her feel dizzy.

"Yes, baby, I love the sounds you're making", he commented while making his way downwards, pushing her skirt as well as her underwear down her legs in one go.

"Yeah, let me see with what I'm working here." His hands parted her legs again, her bare pussy on full display.

"Fuck Y/N, so wet for me, need to taste you", were his words before he delved right in, licking a broad stripe from her entrace to her clit, hugging her thighs tightly on either side of his face.

"Shit", she exclaimed moaning, her hands immediately flying into his hair. He pleasured her like a god, eating her out passionately like he hadn't just tasted her a few days ago.

Her thighs trapped his head between them while her orgasm approached fast. He didn't even use his fingers, his tongue alone brought her to the brink. When she tipped over, she screamed his name, seeing stars.

"Mhm fuck, I just love it when you cum so hard you nearly crush me with those gorgeous thighs", he muttered breathlessly with his deep, sexy voice, biting her inner thigh playfully. His beard glistened with her juices, he looked utterly irresistible like this.

Negan kissed his way back up her body, helping her out of her shirt on his way which left her naked in front of him. Sitting back on his bed, he admired her body, biting his lip at all the dirty thoughts running through his head.

"Where are you going?" she asked when he stood up from the bed.

"Just taking off my clothes. Damn, you're so impatient."

Taking his time, he stripped in front of her while not once breaking eye contact. Despite her orgasm, Y/N was still hungry for Negan, so him undressing slowly felt like some kind of torture. She watched his cock springing free from its confines, all hard and ready for her. Licking her lips, she got up and onto her knees in front of him, intending to return the favor with her mouth obiently open, but Negan had other plans.

"Fuck, as tempting as that looks, gotta fuck that pussy now, I can't wait any longer."

He took her hand, helping her up, and guided her back towards the bed. But instead of pushing her onto it, he lay down himself, motioning for her to straddle him.

With a grin, Y/N followed him, sinking herself down as soon as she had crawled over him, a deep sigh leaving her mouth at the fullness she felt.

"Fuck, still so tight for me", Negan complimented, enjoying the feel of her velvet pussy around him and also the view. Her breasts moved with every determined bounce of her on top of him. His hands came up to them, kneading them lovingly.

"Fuck, you're so touchy today", Y/N commented, her hands finding a home on top of his while her movements never faltered.

"What can I say, I fucking love your tits." His touch got stronger, thumb and index finger of each hand twirling her nipples, a rich moan spilling from her lips. "I love how they feel, how they look. I love how you squirm for me when I touch them." He looked up at her, gifting her with the first deep thrust upwards. "And I sure as shit love how they look covered in my cum."

Y/N groaned at his dirty talk and movements under her, riding him faster to chase another orgasm which was building rather rapidly. "You feel so good."

Negan grinned at her, eyes fixed on her face. Over time he became a master at reading her body and he could see she was close. His hands left her breasts to find a home on her hips, helping her move above him, determined to bring her the most pleasure possible.

"Shit, harder, please", she uttered breathlessly and Negan delivered. He thrusted upwards a couple of times until the waves of bliss crashed over Y/N, leaving her a panting mess on top of him.

"Fuuucking hell", Negan groaned, still thrusting into her to prolong her pleasure. But he couldn't take it any longer, his own release building deep inside of him.

"Up", he uttered, helping her lift her body off of him. She collapsed next to him on the sheets, still panting helplessly, when he positioned himself next to her chest, stroking his cock with fast movements.

She watched him with hooded eyes while he came, roaring a litany of curses as his cum shot onto her chest, covering her breasts in pearls of white.

It took long moments for both of them to catch their breaths. Negan had collapsed next to her, laying on his side to better look at her.

"Damn, you look absolutely gorgeous with my cum on your tits."

She smiled at him lazily, her fingers dancing through his release, smearing it across her chest.

"I love how that feels." Her right index finger came up to her mouth to suck it clean. "And I love how you taste."

Negan nearly roared at her, wedging himself between her legs again and pinning her hands above her head.

"For fuck's sake, why do you always have to be such a fucking tease?"

"Because you love me for it."

"I definitely do. And you love me for all the naughty things I do to you."

She then smiled at him warmly, her fingers, still covered in his cum, stroking his cheeks, a gesture so absolutely filthy and sincere, it described their relationship perfectly.

"Yes I do. But I also love you for so much more."

---

Taglist: @murphslass @negans-attagirl @you-a-southpaw-doll @toxic-ink

#negan #negan x reader #negan smut #jeffrey dean morgan #negan fanfiction #jeffrey dean morgan smut

[bidisasterevankinard]

Sev...eral Sentence Sunday 🎸

tagged by @wikiangela @giddyupbuck @fortheloveofbuddie @ladydorian05 thank you all <33333

enemies to lovers singers au cause i didn't have new bra fic(I'm lazy and fall into rewatching hard)

“We already have some fantastic lyrics by this talented dude,” Buckley hits him on the shoulder with his fist.

“Yep, and we have some incredible music by my talented bro,” Eddie hits him hard too.

But they both continue to smile at Taylor and the public.

“But why did you fight to inspire each other? Is that some kind of new way for inspiration to hit people?” redhead continued and Eddie wants to strangle her for putting her nose on the things she shouldn’t.

“It wasn't a real fight, we were just screaming to each other staying too close,” Buck says, sounding so real and looking like an angel with his pure blue eyes that even Eddie almost believes him. And he was the one who had a fight with Buckley seconds after Greenway made photos.

“We’re writing a song about break up, so we needed some break up inspirations. Like fights, crying, giving each other `clothes you left a week ago`,” Buckley quotation marks in the air and making sad kicked puppy face, “to inspire different emotions people feel in break ups and well remember what is like, right Eddie?”

(more under cut)

Wow, Buckley is fantastic with making stories, maybe in another life he can be an author. 

Well, as a songwriter you of course should be a good storyteller, so Eddie really doesn’t understand why he’s surprised. Buckley has fantastic lyrics in his songs. “You’re on your own kid” alone is an incredible example of how talented Buckley is. One of the main reasons Eddie hates him. 

He should be better than him and it's hard to admit that your enemy is so talented.

“Yes, we both of course had our stories with love and break ups, but it was long ago and we needed some new emotions. Also it really helps you to recharge when you can just scream at your friend not real things and feel like a new person,” Eddie continues lies and Buck nods at his words.

“Oh, yes. Like to scream looking in his big brown eyes. You can’t imagine the emotions when those sad chocolates look at you when you give him,”  Buck puts hand on his heart and makes a face like he’s crying, “your hoodie you asked me to give back”. I literally cried for an hour after and felt like someone broke my heart. I wrote the first chorus in the next hour after,” Buck sends another smile to the public when they cheer it.

“So you two are just friends who write a song together?” Taylor asks this like she doesn’t believe a thing, but Eddie doesn’t care, it’s not about her to believe. Main thing the public believes.

“Yes, we’re really good buddies,” Eddie says and stretches out his fist towards Buckley and he hits him. Well, they sell all these lies perfectly. 

Tagging if they want to share : @911onabc @alyxmastershipper @transbuck @cowboy-buddie @lover-of-mine @heartshapedvows @bekkachaos @buddierights @housewifebuck @thewolvesof1998 @wildlife4life @hippolotamus @devirnis @loserdiaz @spotsandsocks @monsterrae1 @spaceprincessem @userdisaster @mandzuking17 @gayarthur @bigfootsmom @jeeyuns @forthewolves @the-likesofus @eddiediaztho @jobairdxx @useramor @rogerzsteven @watchyourbuck @elvensorceress @buck-coded @rainbow-nerdss @paranoidbean @pirrusstuff and anyone who wants to share

#enemies to lovers singers au wip #my wips #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #evan buck buckley #buddie wip

[assaily]

Been a while since I’ve posted anything fic related, but I’m not sure if I’ve ever talked about this fic before. 

The basic premise is the Handler/Commission put some kind of kill switch in Five that would slowly destroy his body planned obsolescence style in the event that he ever successfully defected. It’s essentially a sickfic and another one of those no sparrow, no season 3 au’s bc i wrote this a year and a half ago and the season wasn’t even out yet. I found it again this morning bc I finally had some thoughts for it after all this time. 

Anyway, here is some gratuitous angst and Diego cuddling Five. CW for mild suicidal ideation.

---

Five looked miserable. Pale and shivering, he looked so frail and small, so old and young at the same time. Diego wasn’t a fan, he didn’t want to be in the room any longer than he had to. The space heater next to the bed was blasting like a Mojave wind, and still Five shivered quietly on his bed.

Five didn’t complain, not even to inform them he was cold. He hadn’t complained this whole time, and maybe that’s what was getting to Diego. Five was miserable, it was obvious he was hurting, it was obvious he was struggling just to stay conscious enough to mechanically munch on his peanut butter crackers. But he didn’t say a thing. 

A cracker was left half-eaten between two fingers, his head drooped and his eyes slipped shut. He slumped into himself, still shivering. Diego frowned, slapping his knees as he stood from the armchair. “Alright.”

His voice startled Five, likely having forgotten he was there again. He flinched, head popping up, bloodshot eyes confused and darting before landing on Diego’s face. The relief was palpable, his shoulders slumping, something relaxing in the pinch of his expression.

“Diego,” he croaked.

“Yeah, just me bud.”

“Are you leaving?” He tried to make it sound like an innocent question, tried his damndest to keep his inflection flat, Diego could tell. But he could also hear the quiet fear burbling beneath it.

“No,” he lied, and almost sat back down again. 

Five nodded and seemed to remember his cracker. He nibbled on the corner of it again, his arm shaking with that little effort. “It’s not stale,” he remarked, hardly above a whisper. It was the third time he’d said that about the cracker and every time it struck at something soft in Diego’s chest.

“Fresh crackers, just for you.”

“Fresh…” he rolled the word around in his mouth like he was tasting it. “Where’d you find them?”

“The store on fifth.”

Five nodded slowly, processing. The last two times that was the end of the conversation. Diego hoped it would be the end of this one too, but then Five looked over at him, a stark confusion breaking through the dead-eyed exhaustion. “Isn’t the roof…?” he made a fluttery motion with his hand, dropping crumbs into his lap.

“Roof is fine, Five.”

He shook his head, brow pinching. “No, I remember it collapsed.” He paused, Diego at a loss for how to answer. “There’s a pharmacy on tenth, it still has stuff. There might be medicine there.”

“We have medicine for you,” Diego said, gesturing at the table with the small battery of bottles atop it.

Five looked over at it, expression falling blank as he failed to process something. He stared for too long, unblinking and unmoving, that Diego figured he’d lost him again. Lights on, but no one was home. 

“I hurt,” Five sighed at long last, breaking the silence and his stillness with another shiver.

Diego chuffed a surprised laugh. “I bet you do.”

“I’m done,” he said softly. “I don’t want to be here anymore.”

Diego swallowed down the lump that jumped into his throat. Five didn’t complain, not about the pain, the confusion, the exhaustion.

Five shivered again, cracker forgotten.

Diego couldn’t stand it anymore. “Okay, okay.” He needed to do something, anything to help. He couldn’t just stand there watching Five in misery, watching over him as he got worse and worse, as even the pills and syrups and whatever pain meds Mom tried to give him failed to do a goddamn thing.

“Are you still cold?”

Five looked up at the question, considering him for a solid ten seconds before nodding clumsily. “It’s winter,” he said as if that explained everything.

Diego didn’t have the heart to tell him it was the dead of August. “I’m cold too,” he said, reaching down to turn the heater off. Diego was sure Five didn’t even know what the damn thing was but his shivering took on a new ferocity the moment the coils darkened. He looked confused, lost and as Diego approached the bedside, suddenly defensive. His arms curled over his chest, jaw clenching, pulling himself back as if he could get away from Diego.

“You’re not--” he started, aborted with his mouth open, eyes darting around the room. “Wait, I don’t--”

Diego crouched at the bedside, realizing he was looming a little. “You’re okay, it’s just me.” He reached out, careful to keep his palm up and gesture slow. Five watched his hand, pulling back from him as he tried to touch his arm. “It’s just me,” he repeated.

Five didn’t complain, and he never talked about why he was so damn untrusting of them in his confused state. Diego didn’t want to think about who could have planted that mistrust and why. He knew why. He’d spent enough time with Lila. He’d met her mother. The first person Five interacted with in decades. Diego would have trust issues too.

“Diego,” Five said flatly, more an affirmation than anything else.

“Yeah.”

“What are you doing here?”

He almost wanted to know where ‘here’ was for Five. Somewhere cold, somewhere beyond the end of the world, somewhere lost in his own past. “I’m here to save you.” It sounded stupid coming out of his mouth, feeling it burn in his eyes.

Five paused for half a second, something in his eyes growing sharper than it had in days. Then he laughed, a single mournful guffaw that threw his head back and nearly toppled him back into his pillows. “Save me?” he asked, incredulous. “How? You’re dead, remember?” He smiled wide, shoulders shaking with more than just cold. “You’re dead.” His mirth turned to grief in a second, his expression twisting into honest fury if he’d had the strength. “You can’t save me,” he spat. “I have to save you.”

Diego reached across the bed and put his hand over Five’s arm. His skin was cold as ice, his wrist sharp and bony under Diego’s palm. “You already saved us.”

Five’s anger was smothered by the touch on his arm, his entire attention drawn to it. He opened his mouth, but only a half-aborted burst of air made it out.

Diego didn’t waste time. With the heater off, Five had nothing keeping him warm and Diego didn’t dare let him go now. “I’m cold, too.” Diego said again, catching Five’s attention back to his face and voice.

“I’m cold,” Five said, and Diego couldn’t tell if he was saying a truth or just repeating the last thing he heard.

“Let me in there, then.”

“Huh?”

Diego didn’t wait for him to figure it out. He half-stood, slipping his shoes off and dragging back the covers in one move. He pulled himself under the blankets, one arm around Five’s shoulders, the other making sure his brother was still covered.

“What are you--” Five realized half-way through the sentence that Diego was warm. The question forgotten, Five pressed himself into Diego’s side, shivering fiercely. “Oh,” he sighed, hands finding warm places to shove themselves into.

“Yeah, thought you might like this better.” Even though the old man would never admit it in his entire life. Neither would Diego. No one was home to see this blatant display of affection, so Diego could deal. He was pretty sure Five wasn’t going to remember a thing about this later.

He flicked the half-cracker to the floor, got himself comfortable, Five slumping more and more of his weight against him. His shivering was easy to feel, his whole body so cold. This wasn’t normal, and it settled uncomfortably in Diego’s gut. He wrapped his tiny older brother in his arms, tucking him against his chest to lay on the pillows together.

It took a while for the shivering to subside, took even longer for Five’s breathing to ease and his body to relax. “Diego,” he whispered, so quietly Diego nearly missed it.

He hummed, letting it rumble in his chest so Five could hear it where his ear was pressed against him.

“Diego,” he said again, and that was all. Nothing else to it, but Diego understood this time. An affirmation of gratitude in a whispered little tone, hidden every time he said their names. He’d fought so hard for them, and now Diego couldn’t stop imagining him when he was actually thirteen, alone and starving and whispering their names, putting everything into surviving so he could see them again. So he could come home.

It wasn’t fair that he couldn’t even have that.

Diego held him a little tighter, frail and bony and so, so cold. “You’re gonna be alright.” He was going to get better.

“I won’t tell anyone,” Five said softly, still below that careful whisper.

A laugh burst from Diego, surprised and a little wet. He swallowed the burning lump in his throat and closed his eyes so the tears would roll away and get lost on the pillow. “Thanks.”

“Don’t cry over me.”

Diego couldn’t answer that, couldn’t hold him any tighter, he could already feel his bones creaking. “You’ll be okay.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Go to sleep.”

“I’ll wake up,” he promised.

Diego let out the breath he was holding like a balloon, eyes clouding. “Shut up and go to sleep.” It wasn’t even a fear, he refused to acknowledge it.

“I’m not worth… all this.”

“Shut up.” Diego gripped the back of his neck, too hard at first, making Five tense. He softened his hold, kneading his thumb into the muscle, feeling Five’s heart fluttering that awful off-rhythm beat against his fingertips. “Were we ever worth all that?”

“Yes,” he answered without hesitation. “You were.”

Diego shook his head, his chest aching, scratching gently into Five’s scalp. “You’re a part of this family, too.”

Five didn’t answer. He didn’t rebuke, didn’t affirm. Diego could feel him thinking about it, and hoped somewhere in that muddled little head of his that he’d at least internalize that. How could someone who loved so hard think he deserved so little in return. It wasn’t fair.

No more fair than how hard Five had to fight, only to die a few months after achieving it all. No, Diego refused. Five wasn’t going to die. Not yet, not this year or this decade. Five did everything in his power to protect them. It was time someone stepped up and did the same for him.

#in case it wasn't obvious i have a serious soft spot for Diego taking care of a semi-delirious Five #i mean Five being taken care in general but this specific flavor of it appears to be a favorite of mine lol #tua #the umbrella academy #fanfic #fic snips and bloopers #tua fanfic #tua fic #Five Hargreeves #my stuff #my fics #planned obsolescence #i considered saving this for masked author/artist coming up but i doubt this will be any condition for AO3 by may #and i feel like i'd get clocked so fast posting something like this #also i have a shit memory and i already had a planned obso tag so now im worried i;ve posted this before and have simply forgotten #if i did tumblr ate it #hope y'all enjoy :)

[choicesficwriterscreations]

CFWC Writer of the Month - July 2023: AlwaysMyChoices

Each month CFWC highlights one of our talented fanfic writers, and this month’s writer of the month is @alwaysmychoices. We hope you will enjoy learning more about them and their work below! The writer is selected at random. More info can be found on the navigation page.

Quick Links:

Tumblr Blog: AlwaysMyChoices Blog Masterlist

How do you want to be known on Tumblr? May

1- When did you start playing Choices? What was the first book you played? 

I started playing The Royal Romance in December 2017. I have no idea how I found the app, but I was obsessed with that story. My memories from this time are super vague -- I know there was a connection between Cordonia being based on Montenegro and Croatia (two countries I studied abroad in the next summer), a well-placed advertisement, and a Christmas vacation where I was snowed in with too much time on my hands.

2- When and why did you join Choices fandom?

I joined the fandom in January 2018 because I desperately needed to talk about the Royal Romance. I didn’t have any friends who played (and was embarrassed to share), so I started off liking posts from my “real” account (which was a Sims account) and then made this as a “side blog.” Later, that Sims account got abandoned, which is why all of my likes come from a different Tumblr.

3- How did you pick your blog name? 

I had three criteria -- it needed to be (1) somewhat punny, (2) dramatic and angsty, and (3) tangentially related to the game. Though I was a Royal Romance stan, I wanted to give myself room for growth, so I didn’t name my account anything to do with the book. The name I really wanted was taken, so I settled for AlwaysMyChoices. But honestly, I love it now.

4- Pull up the first post in your archive, and tell us about it!  

My first post is expressing my disappointment that the Royal Romance’s Book 2 wasn’t angsty enough -- and that perfectly sums up my account. Four days later, I posted my first Choices fanfic.

5- How long have you been writing fanfiction?

13 years. I started writing in 2010 on Fanfiction.net for Percy Jackson. I was very, very young, and it shows in those initial works -- which is pretty ironic because this was the phase in my fanfiction career where I had the most success. I got millions of views on some of those stories, and they’re objectively terrible. After about six or seven years on that website, I went to college and ended up taking a hiatus. I wasn’t inspired to write anymore, which was pretty devastating at the time. Finding Choices brought back my passion for writing fanfiction.

6- What is your favorite Choices book, and what is your favorite Choices book to write about?

Here’s the thing -- I love Open Heart, but The Royal Romance has to be the best. Are there flaws? Definitely. Did the series go off the rails? Eventually, yes. But TRR understood pining. It knew that the readers wanted tender moments with LIs, but they also wanted pain. We wanted tropes, but we didn’t want it to feel tired. We wanted incredible supporting cast members where even the tiniest background player was well-crafted and interesting (and the villain was iconic). We wanted growth and well-structured arcs, and surprising twists. Plus, the LIs checked all the boxes -- the prince bound by duty, the lover’s best friend, the supportive friend turned lover and the woman who had been through pain but always saw the best in people. I wish I could go back and relive that magic.

At the time, I loved writing about TRR, too, but I’ll admit that Ethan Ramsey was made for angsty fanfiction.

7- Share the first fanfic you wrote with us. Do you still like it, or would you change it if you were writing it today?

My first fanfic for Choices was “Come to Bed.” This was when I still wrote in the first person, which feels like a lifetime ago. As for my thoughts, it’s fine. I wouldn’t do anything differently, but I also probably wouldn’t publish it. When it comes to my Choices fics, my biggest complaint is that they’re often too tied to a moment. I wrote them because I read a chapter in whatever book, felt overcome with emotion and inspiration, and put that into my word processor. They’re my reactions more than a story, and aside from a few angsty quotes or steamy scenes, I generally forget about them when the moment passes.

To be honest, I totally forgot about “Come to Bed.” I thought my first story was “Prove it,” a much steamier TRR story. 

8- What is your favorite fic that you’ve written?

A Weekend with Dr. Ramsey is my legacy in this fandom, and I’m happy with that. I’m proud of that series. But if it had to be a single fic, it’s either “Him” or “Never Had a Chance.” Both are pairings I don’t often write (Ethan x Tobias and MC x Drake, respectively), and both stories focus on these grand, explosive loves that burn up too quickly but eventually settle into comfortable, platonic admiration. It’s the kind of love that lingers long after the romance has died. 

9- Do you have a fic that you didn’t expect to be well received, but it was? What about one you expected to be but found could use a little more love?

I never expected my Ethan & F!MC "Calling to Say I’m Marrying Someone Else” headcanon to blow up. That was such a pleasant surprise, and I love it to this day. As this fandom has dwindled, engagement naturally decreased, but I have to admit I hoped for a bit more love on “You’re a Devil.” Sexy pining at a Halloween party? The color red symbolizes danger and decadence they can’t accept? I still think it’s great.

10- If you could write only angst, fluff, or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why? 

Angst. I love reading fluff and smut, but I’m really in the zone when I’m writing angst. For me, that’s when characters become something bigger than an idea -- they’re growth and change and cathartic and tragic and triumphant. If I never wrote angst again, I don’t know how I’d ever find that feeling anywhere else.

11- Do you ever recognize yourself in any of your MCs or in your writing?

Oh yeah. My MCs are generally versions of me with some exaggerated character flaws -- pride for Collins, indecision, and stubbornness for Charlie. I’m not as messy as my MCs, but at my core, I think I want to be.

12- What element of writing do you struggle with most?

Consistency. My issue has always been finding that inspiration and holding on to it. I’m very dependent on the “flow” of writing. When I’m in it, everything is easy -- the dialogue is effortless, the descriptions are perfect, and the pacing is impeccable. When I’m not in it, I’ll write the same thing over and over until I give up. I have a bad habit of letting inspiration come in all-consuming waves without any safety net of pacing or discipline. If I burn out or get distracted, it’s all over.

Oh, and length. Those stories are always way too long.

13- Do you have any neglected work you really want to finish?

Omg, yes, all of it. I need to finish With and Without, but I know I’ll be devastated when I do. Then, there are the dozens of notes on my phone, reminding me of all these new stories I’ve abandoned.

14- If someone you know in real life (who isn’t involved in fandoms) asked to read your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you recommend they read first? 

I am super weird about keeping my fanfic life separate from my real life. It is a barrier I very rarely break, but when I have broken it, I’ve run into the same problems -- because it’s fanfiction, I give no exposition. So, if you’re reading it without any fandom knowledge, you’re lost. With that in mind, I think I would give them a quick recap and then give them “A Weekend with Dr. Ramsey.” It would kill me to be that vulnerable, but I think it’s the best reflection of this account. 

15 - Are there any writers (published authors and/or fanfic writers) who influenced your writing? 

So many! Particularly in the fandom, I’ve learned from so many creators. Early on, I remember @boneandfur and @heauxplesslydevoted were such big TRR influences for me. So many amazing creators have deactivated -- even someone who taught me my entire bullet point format for HCs. Now, I’d say I’m pretty inspired by @jerzwriter, @terrm9, @utterlyinevitable, @the-pale-goddess, @mvalentine, and @queenbirbs. I’m definitely forgetting so many amazing people!

16- Which one of your stories would you most like to see as a movie/series? 

I would love to see A Weekend With Dr. Ramsey adapted into a mini-series with a devastating ending. 

17- Do you write original fiction? 

Yes, but not as often as I wish. Fanfiction has always been easier for me because I have somewhere to share it. Without that, I find I end up losing steam and forgetting about it. I do, however, have a phone full of story ideas, and one day, I’m determined to do them justice.

18 -  What other hobbies do you have?

I am a big reader, an occasional bullet journaler, a dog lover, a movie buff, and a fan of British mystery shows. 

19 - What’s your favorite emoji? 

The eyes emoji 👀It’s one of those amazing emojis that adds nuance to a text, and I use it way too often.

20: BONUS - tell us anything you’d like (if you want to).

____ I am truly so grateful to be part of this fandom. I know I’m not good at being in the fandom -- I disappear, I suck at answering, etc. But I truly love this group and am so happy to be part of it.

#choices fic writers creations #cfwc writer of the month #playchoices #choices the stories you play #writer of the month #alwaysmychoices #july 2023 #choices fanfic #playchoices fanfic

[ineffablyruined]

In Defense of an Angel

I know this has probably been done before, but I'm working on a fic at the moment and found myself needing to puzzle out where I think Aziraphale is coming from in that last 15 minutes. He's catching a lot of heat in the fandom right now, even from me initially I admit, but I think I understand more after trying to put myself in his head. It got a bit long, so I've put most of it under a Read More.

We all generally agree that there was zero chance that the Crowley we all know and love was going to be allowed back into Heaven, right? At the very least, he would have been memory wiped and reset as the innocent angel we saw Before the Beginning, and at the very worst, Metatron would have permanently destroyed him before actually welcoming him back. I mean, this face isn't the face of someone who is going to just let Crowley come back to the fold, no matter what lies he's about to tell Aziraphale.

But, sweet summer's child Aziraphale, religious trauma and all, has no idea that the Metatron has exactly zero intention of letting Crowley accompany him to Heaven.

So when he says, "The Metatron said I could appoint you to be an angel," he means it. You. Not the angel you were. Not some innocent carbon copy from millennia ago.

He fully, completely believes Crowley will just be Crowley, but as an angel. He doesn't believe Crowley will have to change at all. And why should he?

Because Aziraphale is keenly aware that you don't have to be good to be an angel. Look at him. (Thanks to @saryasy for all the perfect gifs)

He's spent most of his existence being a terrible angel, just like Crowley has been an absolute disaster of a demon. They are cut from the same cloth.

And if the Metatron is going to make the angel who lies over and over again to God, to archangels, to himself, into the Supreme Archangel, then surely there's room for a demon who regularly engages in truly good acts as well, right?

And it's the solution to all of their problems. They will be on the same side, not just in their eyes, but in Heaven's eyes, and in God's eyes. They won't have to hide anymore, won't have to be so careful about admitting they are even friends, can be something more. Because now it won't be Romeo & Juliet.

They can be together. Properly together. Doing good the way they've always done, together. Importantly, without the risks! Crowley won't have to worry about retribution from Hell. There won't be any from Heaven because Aziraphale will be the Supreme Archangel and no one can tell him no.

And that's why he's so confused that Crowley's saying no. And he tries.

Because Crowley can't possibly understand or he wouldn't be saying no.

But then he does. He says he understands, that he understands better than Aziraphale does, and the answer is still no. He says no. And what can Aziraphale do with that?

He's been rejected. And there's nothing else to say.

Then it gets worse. Crowley points out, "No nightingales." And we can see that they both know exactly what that means. For Crowley to point that out and to kiss him after rejecting him feels, at best, manipulative and, at worst, downright cruel. Aziraphale just offered a safe way for them to be together, and Crowley wants no part of it if it isn't the way he wants it - just the two of them going off together - even when he knows and has been explicitly told over and over again that Aziraphale doesn't do running away.

And if Crowley is going to be cruel with his words and actions, then so can Aziraphale.

And he knows - HE KNOWS - what those words are. How they call back to the other times they've gone their separate ways. And he says them anyway. Because Crowley hurt him and he's going to hurt him back.

He's spent lifetimes reading books, collecting them, coveting them. Of course he can wield words as deftly as any weapon.

(Sorry for the emphasis there, but I'm particularly proud of that turn of phrase. I wrote it for a fic I'm working on and it's what made me do this whole thought exercise in the first place.)

FWIW, he then immediately regrets it when Crowley leaves. See this post highlighting all the times Aziraphale just keeps looking for him in the fallout.

#good omens meta #gomens meta #final 15 minutes #good omens spoilers #go2 spoilers #go2e6 #good omens #aziraphale #character study: Aziraphale #go2 #fic planning #aziraphale gifs #ineffable idiots #the divorce #good omens s2 meta #goodomensmeta #good omens season 2 spoilers

[archiveofthelibrarian]

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Manwion had hair of silver, which at night, reflected the starry sky yet glistened gold when Laurelin waxed. His long silver waves was adored by all, Quendi and Ainur alike, rivaled only by the gold-silver hair of Artanis which was said to have captured the very essence of the Two Trees.

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Love and Glass

Prologue

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Inspired by my conversation with @animatorweirdo as anon here.

I have conflicted feelings about this. One one hand, I love the idea and can't get it out of my head. On the other, my execution of this is questionable. So I am throwing it into the void of internet.

I tried to mimick the style in which Tolkien wrote to convey this idea's whimsical and dreamy feel in my head. Alhtough I am not sure I have succeded. Again, this is not beta read, so feel free to point out any mistakes. I

Masterpost for the fic can be found here.

DISCLAİMER: I do not own anything you recognize. This is a fanwork for entertainment purposes and should be regarded as such.

Word count: 432

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Long ago, before the rising of the Sun and the Moon, all newborn elves would be brought before the Valar so that they may receive a blessing from those who crafted Arda.

With time, there grew a great love for elflings in the hearts of the Valar. And though they all loved the elves, there was no greater love than the one Manwë and Varda bore.

Their love was so great, that they wished to love a child of their own, and though they knew it was against the vision of Eru, they set out to work.

With the help of Aulë the smith, Manwë and Varda took their love, poured it into Aulë's work, and then shaped and molded it into their desire.

Finally, a child resembling an elfling came to be from the work of the Valar. Though he looked as any elfling would, he had no free will or fire of his own.

Eru, who saw the great love Manwë and Varda bore for this creation for their's, allowed him to live and have a fire of his own.

But this wayward behavior of Manwë and Varda could not go unpunished, so he allowed the child no name of his own, save for Manwion, meaning son of Manwë, so that he may know when he is called.

Blinded by their love for the little child they would call their own, Manwë and Varda paid no mind to it.

But everyone else did.

The rest of the Valar pitied him, the Maiar shed tears him and the Quendi looked at him oddly, for the Quendi valued their names above all their possessions.

But Manwion understood none of this, for he was a being of innocence and wonder. He could not understand any darkness or malice.

But that did not matter in a world pure and untainted.

What none of the dwellers of Aman, save for Fëanáro, understood was that nothing in this world could last forever.

Soon, Melkor was released from the Halls after his three ages long imprisonment and he started his plan for revenge.

No one noticed as he sowed lies and discord among the Noldor. No one until he stole the holy light and the precious prince.

Melkor, who was renamed into Morgoth, destroyed the Two Trees with the help of the spider Ungoliant and kidnapped Manwion.

As the Valar and the Vanyar wept for their loss, the Noldor took action. With their spirits ignited by Fëanáro's passionate speech, they started their journey to the eastern lands of Beleriand.

The dead bodies of the Trees stand in Ezellohar still but no one knows what happened to their joyful, pure prince Manwion.

Not even the Dark Lord himself.

#silmarillion #silmarillion x reader #silm #silm x reader #silm fic #tolkien fanfiction #Manwë #manwë súlimo #varda #varda elentari #modern girl in middle earth #gn reader #modern person in middle earth #melkor #morgoth #the valar #love and glass #love and glass prologue

[flowers-of-io]

Fic Rec Friday #2

Provenir

by @allteacher

Read on Ao3

Esila, and stories, and consequences.

Rating: Gen | Word count: 2,043

Warnings: Canonical Character Death

Sometimes she forgets she is still growing. She has been aging faster, after they left the Distributary, but compared to humanity the pace is still glacially slow. Here she is, child and woman, wise and famed and impatient and young. Esila is carried over the crowd of Awoken, those that have fed on her stories for centuries, and becomes their voice once again. She already loves this place as much as she loves her people, and that is exhilarating and frightening.

This week’s fic rec is one of the first works of Allteacher’s that I read. Maybe I’m so soft about it because it’s a story about a storyteller, about a girl and then a woman and then a legend; about how a writer looks at the world in wonder and fishes out the crumbs that then become tales. A teacher-child with ink-stained hands, Distributary-ancient but not overburdened by wisdom. And oh the prose is so ethereal and Dreaming City-esque, I mean—“glacially slow”!!!!! I’m absorbing the language through my pores!!!!

The fighting grows worse, and Esila turns inward from a perfect world towards a more perfect one. She is older now, old enough to explore without a babysitter, though with the Theodicy War her mother seldom lets her past the garden gate. So she makes her own path out of the gates, writes her way down the old hunt-paths long ago abandoned in favor of richer prey. She learns to walk where she could not go before: under the Crystalline Lakes, into the jewel-caves of the Andalayas. The stars become a carpet and she buries her face in them when the funeral barges throw up smoke. Here she does not need to think of politics and debts and death. Here she can dream of the stars.

I remember reading this paragraph for the first time and having such a vivid image in my mind. “Writes her way down the old hunt-paths long ago abandoned in favor of richer prey”!!

Here she is: dual-ringed, two-sided, spinning stories to close the divide between her people. She cannot heal the wound, but she has spent centuries learning, growing, teaching. She can show her people how to look elsewhere, how to reach outwards.

On the last day Esila sits in the Hull and tells her mother she loves her until the connection severs. In that last frantic second she promises her mother she will write. The last thing she hears from her mother is a laugh, a promise to write back.

This is also a story about a mother and a daughter—and isn’t it interesting how Esila, the famous historian and storyteller, whose life and death was a tale in itself, is being titled “Esila, daughter of Sila”? It’s her bond with her mother that defines her, and it’s handled so beautifully in this fic.

During their journey, Esila sits by the window in the common room and writes every fable, every story, every legend she was ever told. She asks the others for the stories they were read as children, records them, marks the differences that show between tellings. When her hand cramps too badly to write she takes the quiet moments to mourn for her mother, who will outlive her. She thinks of her home, the day they left, the day they were almost shot out of the sky. Esila hopes her mother feels her daughter, alive, in her joints. She hopes her mother will not feel her die.

Oh another thing I love is the little namedrops of characters mentioned in the lore like, once. I had to look up Owome on Ishtar, and maybe that’s just me, but I find it incredibly satisfying when I have to google a name mentioned in a fic and find they’re actually a canon character. Fr his could be an entry in The Dreaming City lorebook.

Esila daughter of Sila grows and ages slowly but is still so young, so lighthearted. On the second solstice Azirim comes to her and lies and she knows it but he reminds her of one of the first stories she ever wrote, about a Corsair who shot a man with her bow and traveled the Distributary doing good in an attempt to repent. She is not Sanguine, but she adores a tale of redemption. 

She agrees to listen. She will die for it. This is history in action: the consequences of her mercy.

History in action… A tale of redemption... The consequences of her mercy… Delightful, delightful.

#izzy's bookshelf #fic tag #fic rec #allteacher #awoken #esila

[freeuselandonorris]

hello freeuselandonorris! i’ve asked you for writing advice/ideas a couple of times (POV decisions and something in Nov, can’t remember exactly what it was), and i find your advice so helpful (/srs) so i hope it’s not annoying i’m asking again lol.

i find i can only write when i have extreme motivation, like an idea literally possesses my brain and the words almost write themselves - gonna out myself here, the last thing i wrote was the water inflation fic i appropriated from you; it just took over my mind and i wrote/edited it in like two days (though the speed is for sure because the entire plot was essentially your idea lol).

basically, i have lots of ideas but it’s hard for me to actually think of scenes in specific, and then i just end up not writing at all. do you have a method for coming up with a progression of a specific scene?

i am doing a horrible job of explaining my q lol so for example, my current wip involves interview panels/youtube collabs etc, but i’m finding it hard to write those because it’s so different from anything i’ve tried writing before. what do you do in those kinds of cases?

sorry for the ramble and if this makes no sense, love u 😭

hiiii lovely anon (or semi-anon lmao) you are not annoying in the SLIGHTEST, i love talking about stuff like this and it makes me really fucking happy to know that my self-indulgent rambling about writing is occasionally helpful to read ❤️

SO. i have two pieces of advice on this one, speaking from my own experience because for a very long time i was also like this and would write in fits and starts and felt very like i had to ~wait for the muses to bless me~. it’s actually something i was taught at a writing course i took years ago now and it sounds so blah and obvious when you first read it but if you stick with it, it works. BRIEF DAILY SESSIONS.

aka, you write a tiny little bit every day. if you can’t commit to every day, say five days a week (but every day is better). i do NOT mean write 1000 words a day or spend three hours doing it or freak yourself out or beat yourself up or abandon your social life or your responsibilities! the idea is you just pick a time that feels feasible (i started off with 15 minutes a day and i think this works well) and you commit to doing that every day. it doesn’t have to be anything good. it can be 15 minutes of you describing lando’s eyelashes in minute detail. it can be 15 minutes of notes for a plotline. it can be 15 minutes of dialogue you KNOW is shit and wooden and will be getting deleted the minute you get to the edit stage. doesn’t matter. just do your 15 minutes.

what this does is it breaks the hold your brain has on this idea of “oh no i have to be INSPIRED before i can possibly think of writing”. at my course they compared it to musicians practising scales, or athletes doing training. we could think of it like drivers doing their sim runs. they don’t just turn up on a race weekend and expect to be great, they have to keep their eye in.

side note: it’ll feel horrible at first, you’ll hate it and resent it and everything you write will feel awful. stick with it. if you miss a day, it doesn’t matter, you haven’t failed, just start again tomorrow. if you miss a week, you haven’t failed, start again tomorrow.

this is more of a long-term thing, so for your specific piece and the issue you mention about progressing a scene, the way i get around this is to start by writing the bit(s) i CAN imagine. so for instance here, you’d write one interview scene, or one youtube collab scene. even if it’s just a little bit of dialogue, or a couple of paragraphs of like, oh i can see oscar rolling his eyes and lando sees it and gets annoyed but he can’t say anything because there are cameras on them… or whatever. just write that bit. then leave a blank space in the gdoc and write the next bit. don’t worry about the order or anything.

once you’ve written all the little bits you can think of, read them through and you might be able to see links between them, like — oh that bit could follow on from this bit up here, or these two bits could kind of go together. reorganise stuff a bit, chop it up, get rid of anything that doesn’t work (copy it into another document called ‘cutting room floor’ if you don’t want to fully get rid).

THEN write yourself some notes. go through your bits and bobs and in between them, just write stuff like [SOMEHOW THEY GET FROM THE FILMING TO THE HOTEL ROOM???]. don’t just write [SOMETHING HAPPENS HERE], you need to give yourself little breadcrumbs to follow. so like there you go, okay, so they need to be in a car or a lift or some sort of transitional space (you see these crop up a lot in my fics — lifts, hallways in hotels, the backs of taxis). or if they’ve started off talking about one thing and you want them talking about this other thing by the end of the scene, write [THEY CONTINUE TALKING ABOUT LUNCH UNTIL IT GETS AWKWARD AND THEN THEY SOMEHOW END UP TALKING ABOUT OSCAR’S CHILDHOOD]. okay, so it got awkward. how did it get awkward? write that bit. what happens after it’s awkward? does lando double down or try to gloss over it? write that bit. how does oscar react to that? write that bit. etc.

in essence, don’t try to see the entire thing at once because you’ll paralyse yourself. give yourself a direction to aim in, and a place to start, and then just focus on the next bit until you get from A to B.

and if all else fails, find a nice pithy line to end the scene on, use an asterisk scene break and start again somewhere else 🤷

SORRY THIS IS SO LONG i really hope i didn’t bore the hell out of everyone afkjeskfjkldsj but yes THANK YOU AGAIN and i hope this is useful in some way!! you can do it i know ittttt

#writing advice #fic meta #answered

[kasshole69]

truly, madly, deeply - 1

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader, Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff, (eventual) Natasha Romanoff x Reader, (eventual) Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: You’d been living a good life, well as good as it could get with how full of lies it was. Why? It was the only way to get by when you were an unmated omega with an uneasy past. That's all flipped on its head when you see a matching soul mark on two certain avenger, leaving your lies to crumble right in front of your face.

A/N: ayo i’m finally posting this lmao, i read a a/b/o fic on ao3 that wasn’t all about sex (not that those are bad) and it literally took over my life for a few weeks and it wasn’t finished so i wrote my own! a main focus of this fic is reader having a condition called touch deprivation. the name describes it well and it’s described in the fic (this was also based on another a/b/o fic) anyways! i hope you enjoy, second chapter will be posted after this so if you enjoyed please let me know!

also there are two ocs that only affect the beginning of the story and will kinda become absolute

chapter 2 chapter 3 ao3

The day had started out simple enough. Wake up, eat breakfast, go to work, come home, eat dinner and sleep. A routine you’d grown accustomed to. A routine that usually involved you talking to your roommates Lexi and Brooke when you were home. You’d known Lexi since you moved to New York about 3 years ago, meeting because you both needed a roommate. With you both being omegas, it worked out perfectly. You remember the days when she would talk about how she couldn’t wait to meet her soulmate, and lucky for her, she didn’t have to wait too long as she met Brooke about a year after living together. Instead of having to move out, or have Lexi and Brooke find a new place, the three of you lived together and it worked perfectly. Rent was less expensive, and the three of you were able to help out one another. You also thought that they felt bad for you, thinking you were forever going to be alone with the lie you’d told them.

The last thing you needed in your life was someone to depend on. Especially not someone you didn’t even know. You’d spent the last years of your childhood forced to be with someone, someone who didn’t care for you like he should, and you’d be damned if you’d do that again by meeting your soulmate. You knew how it went when omegas, like yourself, met their soulmates. The second you meet your soulmate, your body immediately becomes attuned to them, knowing that it needs them. Your body puts itself through unending pain whenever you're away from them for too long without being bonded. If you were to ever meet them, it would also mean the end of the freedom you have.

How does one avoid fate though? Well you’d come to learn that most people learn about their soulmates through word of mouth. So you’d cover up your soul mark and tell people your soulmates had died. While it wasn’t the most humane thing to do, it kept you safe, kept people from asking questions. Of course you’d told Lexi and Brooke the same sob story but didn’t bother hiding your soul mark from them since you were living together and there was no point.

So when you came home to Lexi shouting at you about how you had other soulmates, you froze like a deer in headlights.

“Oh my gosh Y/N! This is so exciting! And two Avengers too? Isn’t this great!” Lexi exclaimed whilst holding your hands and jumping up and down.

“We already called Avengers Tower, they said that we can come by tomorrow to meet them,” said Brooke, coming in just behind Lexi.

You were still in the middle of processing all this when Lexi started showing you the news articles. Avengers Wanda Maximoff and Natasha Romanoff reveal that they are soulmates! What does this mean for the team? With a close up image of that stupid mark you had on your wrist. In a way this was a blessing, now you knew exactly who you needed to avoid. All you need to do now is find a way to convince Lexi and Brooke not to make you go up there.

You decided to play dumb. “I don’t think that’s the same mark, mine looks like a different shade of red.”

“What? No, you guys definitely got the same marks,” said Lexi while giving you a confused look.

“I don’t know, maybe it’s best that we don’t go up there just in case. Wouldn’t want to get my hopes up, you know?”

“Shouldn’t that be the reason you do go up there? Just in case they are in fact your soulmates,” said Brooke giving the same look as Lexi.

“Exactly! What’s the worst that could happen?”

“I’ve got stuff to do tomorrow anyways, probably wouldn’t have enough time to make it there anyways,” you say as you head to your room not wanting to get into a big argument with the two.

“What’s so important that you can’t meet your soulmates?” Lexi asks almost angrily.

“Literally anything else.”

In a much softer tone Lexi carefully asks, “What?”

“I’ve just-,” how were you supposed to explain this to them? Getting into your past would just lead to more questions. The best solution? Another lie, “I don’t want to meet them, being the soulmate of an Avenger comes with a lot of risks and it would probably be safer for me to keep my distance. Aren’t they in a pack anyways? They should be fine without me.”

Lexi and Brooke give you a shocked look, with the former deadpanning. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am! I feel completely content! I don’t need them, and since they aren’t actively looking or know that I exist, they won’t need me either.”

You can tell neither of them know what to say, Lexi is opening and closing her mouth like a fish while Brooke has a deep crease between her brows trying to decipher what you’ve just said.

“Please, can we just keep this between us?” you plead with the two of them.

They share a look of concern before looking back at you with pity. Lexi finally says, “Alright, if that’s what you really want. Are you sure you don’t at least want to meet them?”

“No, I’ll be fine living my life and they’ll be fine living theirs. No need to upend everyone’s lives over something as silly as soulmates,” you say as you start to walk towards your room.

“Soulmates aren’t-“ Lexi starts before you quickly cut her off so as to not start another argument.

“Thank you guys! Goodnight!” you say as you slam your door shut.

Universe just had to send you a curveball, but thankfully it seems you hit this one out of the park. Not only are the two people who know about your soulmates are sworn to secrecy but you know exactly who to avoid. Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff, should be easy enough to avoid since the Avengers are currently living at the new compound in upstate New York.

Now all you gotta do is stay updated on the Avengers whereabouts and continue to live your life. Since you now know who your soulmates are and that they are relatively easy to avoid seeing as the media keeps a keen eye on them, you feel very secure. Before you never knew when you would run into your soulmates, constantly living on edge.

Although, you could definitely see an appeal to being their soulmates. Two unbelievably strong women with stunning appearances wasn’t something you were complaining about. Even with that, the media was not making it easy to like them, especially Wanda. Saying things like she is a loose cannon and is not in control of her powers. While it’s a given to not believe everything you read or see on the internet, it only helped solidify your desire to stay away from them.

And with that life moved along. Everything was normal, aside from Lexi giving you petty remarks every time you asked for a favor saying things like, “if you would just meet your soulmates I bet they would be happy to do this for you” or “why don’t you ask your soulmates?” It grated on your nerves but it was better to just live with it than let get into an argument with Lexi, especially when she knew who your soulmates were. You didn’t know if she would go that far, but you weren’t taking any chances.

As time went on though, you started to be in immense pain. First it was just tingles all over your body, kind of like your body was a big bruise. The pain would increase when you made jerky movements. It would gradually get worse, feeling almost like you were burning all over. You were calling off of work more and more because some days it hurt too much to even move. Lexi and Brooke noticed and offered to take you to the doctor, but you refused. Whatever this was would pass, it just needed time.

Today however, you felt like you were going to die. Your boss had already said you were calling off far too much and that if you missed one more day you would be put on suspension. So despite it feeling like you should be in a full body cast, you got up and got ready for work. The clothes felt as if they were poking your skin and your feet on the floor felt like you stepped on legos the entire way down the hallway. While the hallway was only a good 6-7 feet but it took you 10 minutes to get down it. Every time you bent your leg it felt like it was bending the wrong way, like you were purposely breaking your legs every time you took a step.

Lexi and Brooke looked at you as you made your way down the hallway and could immediately tell that something was really wrong with you. Despite you having been in excruciating pain these past few months, you’d done a decent job of covering it up. Only ever letting it show when a particularly sharp pain hit you.

Lexi rushed over to you helping you walk to the kitchen asking, “are you okay? Don’t tell me you're going in to work today.”

It took you a second to answer because moving your jaw was a painful task in itself, “yes, i’m fine.”

“You sure? With the pace you were going down that hallway you won’t make it to work until next week,” Brooke stated in a smart-ass tone.

You gave Brooke a dirty look before doubling over in pain.

“Y/N we really need to take you to the doctor! This is not normal!” Lexi exclaims whilst helping you keep from falling over from the pain.

“No, I’m-“ you start before you feel another rush of pain. You had probably hit the ground at this point, with the pain in your head and abdomen felt as if you were being stabbed. You can hear Lexi telling Brooke to do something but you can’t make it out, the pain being the only thing you can focus on. You open your eyes to look up at Lexi but it’s so blurry and you just want to close your eyes again. You think you can make out Lexi saying something to you but you just can’t keep your eyes open. As you close your eyes the pain starts to dissipate as you pass out.

#wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda x reader #natasha x reader #abo au #omegaverse

[rogueshadeaux]

STASIS ➳ An inFAMOUS: Erosion mini-fic

I wrote the first bit of this in December before publishing Erosion, when I was still feeling/figuring out what tale I wanted to tell. It’s a portion I refuse to edit, so excuse any issues — I love that I was able to return to this sure of what I want Jean’s story to mean, and combine the two pieces into one. It means a lot to me.

See y’all next Monday!

The crash of the waves and the roar of the wind did nothing to eclipse the sound of screaming in his mind.

A simple text. I love you. Three sweet words he made sure to repeat to them again and again when the silence lasted just a bit too long, when the pauses felt like they needed to be filled. A mantra he wanted them to remember, to keep ahold of no matter where they went; no matter what, I have my father, who loves me. There was no sadness to the reason, no ill-raised childhood or lack of an emotional father to drive him. Quite the opposite, in fact; he strived to be as open and thoughtful and honest as his own parents. He knew his children would be disadvantaged, growing up with only him at their side, but that gave him nothing but drive to repeat those three words at any given chance; he wished to ensure they never knew a lack of love, even as they lacked a mother.

It wasn’t rare to hear the words back, but it was uncommon for those three words to be said unprompted first. Perhaps it was the holiday spirit, something overtaking his daughter’s heart as the sun set on Christmas Eve. It was enough to make him smile at least, as he checked his phone while trapped in near-standstill traffic as the pair approached Seattle. Barely a quarter-mile away was the less-congested turnoff towards Salmon Bay, towards home. Towards his family. There was a relief to it all, a yearn to retire the night with some cheesy Christmas movies and a return to traditions he had left behind for fear of risking those two he said I love you to most. For going home now was more than simple decompression, but a restoration of the person he abandoned at those shores all those years ago.

There was a harmony to returning to the cliffs of his clan, to the tides of his tribe. Pieces of him shattered years ago on that chilled August night, and only now did it truly feel like he could pull the shatterings together and glue them, creating a new mosaic that proudly shined his truth. The I love yous he’d promise away came unrestricted and unconditional because he feared they would feel the isolation he did when the clock would tick long past midnight and the stars would give away to the blush of dawn. When the years were younger and the lines less traced into his forehead, there were three he promised his love to — but fate and hate tore one away, and he buried so many pieces of himself that he felt more scar than skin as he reeled in the epilogue of loss. He had to, if he were to keep the other two safe.

When the truth came uncovered and his lies undone, there was an underlying fear that his deception wavered their trust in him — that his love would be thrown into question as well as his lies. That never happened. In fact, it gave him the chance to unconditionally resume to love the parts of himself he shooed away. The choice to share was ripped away from him, but perhaps that wasn’t a bad thing; it forced him to ratify reality, to share with his children the parts of himself he yearned to every day since they opened their eyes. He became more than their guide to life, but their guide to power as they mirrored him in more than features now. This spanned beyond how his son’s eyes would crinkle like his, or how his daughter seemed to jut out her jaw in thought just as he would during his studies; because now parts of them were welded to his being in ways no other parent would experience.

So returning home held meaning in more than one form now, something he was itching to return to — until that call.

They abandoned the truck right there in the stagnant traffic, letting it stay idling mindlessly as they rushed north. Past the interchange, past the dozens of vehicles and solid red brake lights. They glared at him in bursts like the eyes of a beast, pupils of demons that always seemed to hunt him down no matter how hard he ran.

And ran he did. Eclipsed in pink and blue, he ran, begging any god out there that was willing to listen that he wouldn’t be too late again. Not this time he begged the sky above and the water below his feet as they met the Sound and he ran above it. Don’t let me miss my chance this time.

The structure grew on the horizon, glinting in the light of the setting sun. A wave taller than the trees, a tsunami in standstill. Eugene’s creatures screamed behind him at the sight as He Who Dwells led their charge, Delsin their beacon of light as he ran closer and closer to Salmon Bay. That wave was enough of a glimmer of hope. They were fighting. They were still fighting.

The wave came crashing down, ripping against the surface of the water and rocking the world under Delsin’s feet as its power rushed towards him like the blast radius of a nuke. His steps faltered and he fell under the surface, the shock of the cold winter waters making him inhale a lungful of liquid. He reached out to call to the water as it sent him spiraling and pulled it to him, ribbons of pink and blue abandoning him for frothing fluid and allowing him to rise again, to break the tension of the rocking waves and try to find his footing against them.

Eugene had gone forward and met the battle with vengeance in his eyes, years of unspoken hatred lashing out with harsh strobes of hard blue light, sighted against the one person that caused him pain throughout the years. There were others fighting in broken armor, trying to battle the demons and failing in their fight.

None of that mattered to him. None of it except for a flash of silver in the sky that moved to meet him as he stood against the Sound. A pillar of steel grew at his side and his son landed on the platform white as a ghost, barely able to make a noise. “Dad—I tried to grab her but she—”

“Where’s your sister?” He demanded over the roar of the waves and the screams of the hellions. Brent glanced around like he couldn’t believe the scene, like he was questioning all that was occurring.

“Delsin! You need to stop the tidal waves before they flood Seattle!” the wrought voice of He Who Dwells screamed.

Delsin repeated, more stressed, “Brent, where is your sister?”

His son’s eyes met his, and that was the moment the chill of the world around him sank into his bones, for he knew that expression. He wore it time and time again as he grappled with the effects of sudden loss.

The next hours were a blur; assigning his son to guard the doors that held his people, following the pull of the wild waves and straining to hold them back in Elliot Bay, where his world was rocked years ago. Was it fate’s cruel humor that his daughter would fall like her namesake? Or had Delsin damned her to her sentence when he wrote that name on her birth certificate?

No. He refused to accept such a fact until he saw her himself.

The fight was all but won when he returned to the shores of Salmon Bay, Eugene now himself and standing over the corpse of a woman who haunted them both, concrete speared through her own chest in a final act of defiance. Delsin didn’t care about that; all he cared about was that Jean had not surfaced in the time he stilled it, and he screamed her name to the waters again and again like a siren wailing a sad tune as he dove under, searching for another corpse.

Christmas passed a day of mourning, Delsin refusing to leave the waters of the Sound as blue-steeled angels swarmed its surface as guardians, aiding in his search. Brent had spent the morning frozen in front of the fire until he was handed a small parcel with Jean’s handwriting on a sticker in front: to Asshole with a heart etched in the negative space over the double s. No. He refused to open it without her. She was the only gift he truly craved.

The sun traveled across the horizon until the waxing moon took its place, the half itself seeming to grieve with a dimmed light. A silhouette would shoot through its gleam every now and again as Brent joined his father in his efforts, staring down in the vast black water and praying its emptiness was nothing but a trick of the eye. Eugene was there in bursts, insisting they come inside while he cleared the area of any proof of that witch’s existence. But they refused.

The first night was fruitless. The second was restless. And by the time the sun began to set 72 hours later, it had become hopeless.

Not that the passing time registered to Delsin; none of it mattered. Not the way his eyelids screamed to close, not the soreness in his biceps, not the screams of his empty stomach. He was sure the only reason he wasn’t dehydrated was because he was continuously absorbing the Sound’s dark waters. Perhaps if he pushed enough, he could drain it entirely and perhaps, then, he’d be lucky.

But was it really luck when he was beginning to wonder whether she’d wish to be buried or cremated?

Of course, he knew the answer; it came almost a year ago when his children had the conversation, unaware of how hard he gripped the counter while trying not to imagine that moment. “I want to be cremated, the idea of being worm food scares me. Maybe have some ashes put in art,” she said. “Some big mural right in the middle of downtown.”

Brent laughed, he himself saying something about wishing to be pressed into a gem and shoved into a sword. “What do you want, Dad?” He asked.

Delsin had thought for it to to happen far before either of you pass.

The 28th came on high winds and cold snow, throwing it all around into a blinding and deafening haze. It beat the thermals out from under Brent, whipped Delsin’s chilled hair into his eyes until tears pricked in their corners. Not that that was the only reason; he was losing hope. He had lost another body to the embrace of the Sound. He had been too late to help someone just within reach yet again.

He breached the waters again, gasping for breath and sweeping his slick hair back. The wind pierced through the sheen icy water on his face and made his teeth chatter, left him shivering in place as he frantically looked around the surface. As if the answers would be hidden in its ripples.

But the gusts were so loud, he failed to hear his son's calls until he circled over him like a vulture. “Dad!” He screamed over the winds. “Dad, over here!”

And he whisked away with the pull of the air, leaving Delsin to pull himself atop the Sound’s waters and chase after him.

He could feel it before he saw it; a deep churning in the waters, one that pulled him aside as he ran like a turntable. It was all being directed to a swirling vortex, a circular undercurrent that wasn’t meant to happen in an estuary.

Despite the chill of the ice water on his skin, it was the first time Delsin had felt the fire of being alive in the past few days.

“Go get Eugene, now!” Delsin screamed up into the air before the thick liquid came out from under him and he fell below the surface, the cold doing nothing but shocking more determination into his system.

He kicked and pushed and swam deeper into the dark waters, begging for this to be it. Even when he couldn’t differentiate the reeds from the waves any longer, he pushed. But that blindness didn’t matter, not as he went deeper; something thin seemed to absorb the last of the light to itself, forming a sheen bubble that frothed around—

Her.

There she was, floating freely in a stasis that held her in a gentle embrace. There were so many parts of her that seemed untouched; the hat on her head, the crease of her jacket. Delsin could barely tell the difference between her silhouette and the Sound’s shadow but he just knew, deep in his heart, it was her — especially as he breached the frothing bubble to enter the lukewarm waters and took her in his arms. She felt nearly as weightless as the first time he ever held her, and yet all he could think of was the heaviness of her condition.

Eugene was there the moment he burst through the Sound’s waters, sputtering from holding his breath for so long as he looked down at Jean. His Jeanie, his daughter, who’s head lulled against his chest.

It was there that he noticed the severity of her condition.

Her lips had left their pink for the deepest blue, bits of white frost adorning her temples that slowly melted as the harsh wind hit them. He couldn’t differentiate what purple in her skin was from the cold or the bruising, but there was no mistaking the ever growing swirls of red blood that stained the water around them.

Eugene’s hand immediately felt for a pulse, and murmured as he timed it, looking up to meet Delsin’s eyes. “She’s alive, but barely,” He said.

Advanced regenerative abilities wasn’t the miracle it sounded like; a conduit still felt the pain, the sting. They would bleed all the same and succumb to injuries too great for their powers to heal.

Delsin looked back down; there was a stillness to her face he didn’t like. The blue of her lips and the gray of her cheeks reminded him all to much of Abigail in that one moment he could bare to look at her corpse to identify it.

“Delsin.” His friend said, pulling him out of the flashes. His eyes were earnest but frantic when he looked up.

“Help her,” Delsin begged. Even the wind couldn’t hide how his voice broke.

Eugene’s face steeled. “I have your permission to do anything?” He asked of his friend, knowing the weight of his request.

Delsin glanced back down to run a hand across her forehead, the movement staining it deep pink. He looked to his hand which was covered in blood, and then up to his friend to nod.

“Anything,” he said. “I can’t live without her.”

Jean was gone from his arms in a flash, snatched up by an angel as it veered east towards Seattle. Eugene was next, arms tucked around the hold of a minion as the water under Delsin solidified and he rose to the surface, his son close behind as the ran to see, with bated breath, if there was anything the Doctor could do to reverse her injuries, or if it was too late.

#infamous erosion #infamous second son #infamous OC #Delsin Rowe #sucker punch productions #IM BACK BABEY #LETS GO LETS GO LETS GO #I blame this on doot saying ‘oh idk if I’m gonna write’ and then throwing a piece at me when I was busy with childcare #bastard man #jk ily handsome #had to rush to get it done lmfao but it is HERE #anyways 7 days. I’m sitting in front of your bedroom window with my hair over my eyes like the girl in the ring. I’m so excited

[tantai-jin]

fic writer meme!

thank u rachel @fruitdaze for the tag!!! <3333333

1. How many works do you have on Ao3?

23 since 2016 lmao,, i don't remember exactly how many i posted on lj from 2012-2015 but it wasn't a ton, probably 10-15 that were like 50k altogether

2. What's your total Ao3 word count?

124,765

3. What fandoms do you write for?

it's been all over the place since 2020 lol but p much only chinese media like danmei novels, movies, cdramas. used to write kpop rpf but prob won't return to that even tho i still like and follow many groups

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

给你给你 (yunfei)

换一世身份姓名; heaven to myself (canglan)

not-that-small talk (tell me honestly) (bts yoonkook LOL)

새벽 rush hour (yellow light, slow) (bts taegi LOL)

捡一个梦; reach for a dream (canglan)

5. Do you respond to comments?

i usually do, although i'm often quite late LOL i have a couple fics where i didn't reply to all the comments after a certain point and then i just stopped 😭 or if they are a guest user or only leave emojis as a comment then i don't reply? but ofc i see every comment

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

uhh i feel like the only thing i wrote that is complete and has an angsty ending is 捡一个梦; reach for a dream bc it was a missing scene from an angsty arc of the show. or lol jk same scenario applies to 余光 (remnants of light) bc it takes place before the end of yuwu and not in one of the happier moments

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

either 给你给你 or 换一世身份姓名; heaven to myself bc they're both disgustingly sweet and affectionate at the end

8. Do you get hate on fics?

nope! either i am writing for tiny ass fandoms or like, my fics don't get enough traction to attract haters LMAO

9. Do you write smut?

not a lot... the incomplete bingqiu au i posted has the most explicit scenes so far but i am still too shy writing it. i have to practice so that i can write more than 3 sentences of sex in a single day and actually finish the wips i started 😭

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

i have before! nothing crazy tho bc it was just kpop rpf and it would be like, two idols from the same company that have interacted multiple times! lmao. sometimes i think abt crossovers for cdramas that are relatively tame such as: two actors that have been in the same drama multiple times are reincaranted and those 2+ dramas are their different lives... but it's so niche in eng speaking fandom and i haven't fully written one out yet. also does it count as a crossover if u put characters from story A into the setting/setup for story B bc i do that a lot but i think that is fairly common at least for ppl to imagine

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

i don't think so... again, my fics do not get a lot of traction so i don't think it's likely lmaooo

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

i think there was an exo one translated into russian a long time ago but i don't even remember which one lolllll it might have been on my livejournal

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

not a whole fic yet but ive brainrotted a plethora of aus with friends before such as but not limited to mingqian actors au with lianzi (very intricate with multiple variations) and a Bunch of cdrama and yuwu stuff with another friend :')

14. What's your all time favorite ship?

i cannotttttt pick only one but ummm in the last yr-ish it's been a rotation of tantai jin/li susu + mingye/sang jiu from cyjm, mingqian from liu yao, xilian from yuwu (🤪)..... bingqiu from sv (always).... i should stop for now that's Tew Many. but i think once i finish spl, changgu will also be up there

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

i feel like i'm cursing myself by typing this out but perhaps the bingqiu i posted one chapter of..... even if i could write all the p With p parts that i wanted to include, i was also a little stuck on the ending and idk if i would be able to write it in a way that doesn't feel like a cop out or just weak in general 😢 but i do like that au and i think my writing for it so far was p decent... so who knows...!

16. What are your writing strengths?

i think i am pretty good at dialogue that sounds 1. natural and 2. true to the characters! i try really hard to make imagery sound original(ish) and evocative, and to make a character's Yearning palpable

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

intricate plot, action, sex (takes me forever to write and haven't done it in as much detail as i would like to tbh)

18. Thoughts of writing dialogue in another language in fics?

i love it! i did it a little in my yunfei fic and instead of directly translating the line of chinese right there i just included the meaning in the next line of dialogue, like "what do you mean [thing they just said]" + i did it like that bc the tone of it just felt so much more natural to me in mandarin for that specific convo. not that it was something untranslatable (it wasn't) but it just felt comfier to me. i also like the thing ppl do where you can hover over the text and it will show the translation but idk how that html works HAHA someday i would like to give it a go

19. First fandom you wrote for?

exo.......... lmao

20. Favorite fic you have written?

overall i think it would be typhoon season (my incomplete but not abandoned cisswap girls ximang in hk) ! i had it fermenting in my brain for like 8 months before i wrote it, which meant i had figured a lot of the stuff for the beginning out and it was much easier to write than normal since i was not deliberating so much in the moment. i think the pacing for it was good and the reveals of backstory were placed well, and i think i adapted the characters well too even if it's only a first chapter and they haven't done a lot yet. i wanna write them again but it's been rly hard for me to think abt that specific au for many months lol. i also think my recent yzy gegedidi fic had a lot of yummy scenes even if i see some flaws in some parts of the fic's progression... but i spent enough time on it already so i will not go and fix it anymore 😌 peace

i think all my writer friends were tagged already...... this tagline (like a bloodline) will end with me

#my blah blah #the funny thing is that ive posted 9 fics since 2020 and they are from 7 different fandoms #which makes it so that if i talk abt fics like this i don't think a single friend fully knows what i'm talking abt more than 50% of the tim #i am just jumping from place to place and vibing. there are so many good shows and books and movies and games etc to watch and read and pla

[the-power-of-stuff]

yes you GET it!!!!

i love the idea of live actions sokka’s blatant sexism being almost triggered. it comes out when he’s agitated and has been shown up which i think would translate better to live action than just straight up jokes like in the cartoon. i think we’re in an age where misogynistic remarks are made more out of anger than in old timey jokes

“the pride she feels about being a guardian for her village ends up damaging his pride” completely!!! not only do we get to see her as the badass warrior that she very obviously is, but her drive beliefs and motivations behind what she does and who she is are so clearly laid out.

my biggest gripe with the episode was definitely the lack of buildup for sure. and the kiss. not that sukka were ever really slow burn, but that constant distance where they would meet intermittently and have those intimate moments made it feel like they were

maybe that’s something that can be not so much rectified in the next season, but worked on? because if their first kiss came about so quickly, i feel like the conflict of them next time they’re together should be greater than sokka’s overprotectiveness. or maybe it should be played up more - which i guess it will be as their whole arc that episode was condensed to twenty minutes. idk!!!!

ooo i like your predictions!! i feel like if they go with a year or so time jump then maybe it’ll go more similarly for them in s2? sure, they kissed when they last saw each other, but there’s been some time since then.

sokka’s been involved with yue, and i’d like to think amidst her travels with the kyoshi warriors suki has had time for a fling or two herself. they were each others first kiss, their first encounter with someone from the opposite sex their age, and while it clearly meant something to them, they were younger.

idk though, that’s me trying to rationalise their first kiss being so early. i’ve been interpreting their kiss as yes, definitely a romantic one, but also as a thank you from suki for, like she said, showing her the world. for being that last big push towards her leaving.

i’m rambling now so sorry for another long ask!! but on a slightly different note, i’ve seen some float around the idea of the suki and the kyoshi warriors having their own sort of mini subplot in s2 to do with the dai li.

i’m not 100% sold on this idea yet, but i thought it would be an interesting angle to have two groups/organisations that kyoshi founded at conflict. if done right it could just alter where the kyoshi warriors find appa without changing much else.

here’s the link that i saw posted on the atlatv sub - https://knightedgemedia.com/2024/02/suki-deserves-her-own-original-subplot-in-netflixs-avatar-the-last-airbender-season-2/

anyway thank you for such a detailed response! i love your blog so much and always appreciate how much detail you go into even answering lil old asks like mine <3<3

and i’d definitely be interested in reading a reimagining of the ep from you👀👀 no pressure tho!!!

Ooh, thank you for sharing that Suki theory! I do love the potential for building out more of the Kyoshi Warriors' storyline and explaining what they got up to between leaving the ferry station and discovering Appa. In the episode where they're crossing the Serpent's Pass, Suki mentions that she's heard the Fire Nation is working on something on the other side of the lake that they don't want anyone to know about, so clearly she's privy to some gossip at her ferry job. I always thought it would be neat if she and the Warriors decided to leave the ferry station to investigate, and that's how they ended up in the forest where they found Appa. But the idea of tying the Kyoshi Warrior's adventures into the Dai Li's conspiracies could be a cool way to pull Suki more deeply into the main story.

I wrote into a fic a while ago that Suki and the other Kyoshi Warriors got fed up with the bureaucracy of the ferry station and how trying to "maintain order" actually ends up being harmful to people (e.g., the lady in charge would rather force a pregnant woman to walk across a deadly pass than help her find her stolen property or otherwise get her onto the ferry), and it ends up being sort of eye-opening for them that the Fire Nation aren't the only ones doing harm in this war. (And in my story, that's ultimately why the Warriors end up leaving.) I think it could be interesting for the LA to delve more into this aspect of how the Earth Kingdom is dealing with the war, and it seems like the kind of thing that could fit with the darker tone they want the series to take. But however they end up doing it, I'd love to see them develop more of an explanation for why the Warriors are where they are when the find Appa!

Also I had a lot of fun thinking about a different take on the second episode of the LA. Got me through a dentist appointment lollll... Throwing my thoughts under the cut!

Okay, I’m totally stealing your idea about Sokka’s latent sexism coming out when he's provoked, cuz I just think 1) it makes sense as a defense mechanism for a guy who's feeling insecure in himself, and 2) it raises the stakes for him and Suki. XD

So! We keep “you’re trespassing on sacred ground!” and Suki being the one to tackle Sokka. I would’ve liked to have seen a little bit more of an action sequence during the ambush, so we (and Sokka) get a real taste of the Kyoshi Warriors’ skill. 

The Kyoshi statue glows, they have the village hall meeting. Sokka’s eyeing Suki the whole time with grudging interest. Suki notices and looks at him narrow-eyed, tilting her chin up at him and then looking away abruptly. She’s not sure how she feels about him yet.

Afterwards they walk, and Sokka does his whole, “I’m my village’s protector, too,” thing, to which Suki responds, “I don’t see how that could be true if you’re here.” Sokka stumbles, says something like, “Yeah, I mean, good point, it’s just…this was more important.” And then Suki gets heated (what could be more important than protecting your people??) and gives the Kyoshi Warrior spiel. 

That evening, Sokka rants to Katara and Aang about it. Katara’s like, “Sokka, it doesn’t matter, just let it go,” and Sokka’s all, “It does matter! Just because we’re here with Aang doesn’t mean our village isn’t safe! I worked hard to protect us all those years and— and anyway, helping Aang helps the village!” But inside he’s also thinking, “Have I let my people down? Or did they not need me that badly in the first place?”

The next day, Sokka storms over to the dojo, sees the Warriors practicing, and scoffs. “Fans? That’s your weapon?” and Suki’s like, “Excuse me?” Sokka goes, “At least I trained with real weapons—” “Real weapons, huh? Fine, let’s see it, then.” Sokka’s a little taken aback but he pulls out his club, they get into a stance, Sokka attacks, and Suki easily disarms him with her fans. “Well, Southern Water Tribe warriors are more known for hand-to-hand combat—” Suki immediately puts her fans away and gets into another stance. Sokka grits his teeth and attacks again, but Suki tackles him much like she did at the beginning of the episode. She’s hovering over him and he looks at her and his look of shock becomes a little sad. “I’m a bit out of practice,” he says, and Suki straightens, crosses her arms, and says snarkily, “Feel free to come back when you’re better prepared.”

Later, he comes back and Suki’s like, “Ready for a rematch?” but he gets on his knees and asks to be trained. Suki’s very surprised and just stares at him for a while. He apologizes. “Truthfully, there isn’t much need for warriors in my village…” And this strikes a chord with Suki because it’s not like there’s much need for warriors in her village, either (seeing as how they've kept themselves out of the war)… So she agrees to train him. But she says, “If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it right,” and pulls out a spare uniform.

After Sokka gets dressed he looks at Suki and asks, “Face, too?” “Of course.” And he tells her—but sincerely; not bragging, this time—that he actually knows about putting on facepaint because of the SWT warrior paint. And this time when Suki asks him to demonstrate, she's also being sincere. He starts putting on the Kyoshi Warrior paint, and she helps him, and oops! romantic tension.

They train. Suki is strict but there’s still a lot of closeness and touching. We get to see Sokka use the fans. We get to see Sokka almost best Suki before she gets over her surprise thirst and overtakes him. But then she’s still all “oh shit he’s hot” so she gets up. Training’s over.

I loved the delivery of, “Thanks, um…you’re a great teacher.” “And you’re an excellent student.” So I’m keeping that. Suki acknowledges Sokka’s role as his village’s protector. Sokka, sadly, “Can’t protect them if I’m not there, can I?” And Suki looks at him earnestly. “I’m sure that you made sure they were safe before they left.” “Why are you sure of that?” “Because we’re warriors. And it’s what I would have done.” Enter “you’re the fiercest warrior I’ve ever seen” and “truth is I envy you” spiel. They share an intimate look, like maybe they’re about to kiss, and then the bell rings.

I also really, really loved the moment where Suki goes, “The bell,” and Sokka, all dreamy and lovestruck, says, “You hear it, too?” because OMG what an adorable sap. So I’m keeping that, too. 

They go kick ass together. Sokka jumps in front of Suki to save her from a fireball with his fans. And as much as I like the idea of Suki getting to see a manifestation of Avatar Kyoshi right before her very eyes, I would actually take that part out because for a lot of thematic reasons that I won’t get into here, I prefer Aang and Katara realizing they should retreat to draw fire away from the island, rather than being told they have to leave. And because of that, Sokka and Suki’s goodbye has to be hurried.

While they're ducking for cover, Sokka apologizes again. "Suki, I'm sorry... For treating you like a girl. I mean...you are a girl, but for treating you like just a girl. I mean, a girl who isn't a warrior. I'm sorry for treating you like girls can't be warriors—"

Suki smiles and shakes her head, then kisses his cheek.

"Thank you, Sokka. For showing me that there's more out there."

He gapes at her.

"Now get out of here! We'll hold them off.”

He escapes with Aang and Katara, and while they're flying away on Appa, Sokka pulls off the headdress and runs his thumb over it thoughtfully. Aang says “Nice dress, Sokka,” and Sokka looks up and says, “It's a warrior’s uniform.” 

~fin!~

(I, too, enjoy the sort of slow burn way their relationship develops in the animated show, so I definitely get how you feel about the lack of buildup, Anon. So if it were my rewrite, I would keep that aspect in. ;))

Thank you so, so much for your asks!! I'm having a blast answering them, and I'm so happy to hear you enjoy my blog! 💗💗💗Feel free to keep 'em coming if there's anything else you wanna talk about!

#natla #natla spoilers #sukka #live action atla #netflix atla #spoilers #sokka x suki #suki x sokka #answered asks

[secondgenerationnerd]

This is gonna be so fucking sad but I'm curious ... How did Lian find out about her parents' death, who told her, how did she take it (I know she was sad but like did she break down or what)

…I wrote a fic about this a few years ago…but I wanted to redo it so….suffer.

I cried writing this as a heads up.

——————————

Nothing like target practice to take the edge off finals. Walking to the living area, Lian checks her phone. Dad had said he’d be back in a few days, but she hadn’t heard from him. Probably nothing, just Dad getting distracted by the job. She shoots him a quick text before shoving the phone into her pocket.

As she enters the living area, something’s…off. Her teammates can’t take their eyes off the uninvited guests—Jason Todd and Donna Troy. Lian’s godparents, her dad’s exes. Sure, she more than anyone knows how scary the two can be, but to her? They’re as normal as the quiver on her back. So why does everyone look sick?

“Uncle Jay? Aunt Donna?” The moment they face her, the moment she sees their expressions, her stomach sinks. How many times did she give a civilian that same look? “Who died?”

“Lian.” Her aunt takes a steady breath, “We should speak privately—“

“Who. Died.” Lian barely hears herself over her pounding heart. But seeing the others flinch at her tone, at least it’s not showing. She might not have Irey’s sweet face or Mar’i’/Milagro’s diplomatic skills, but she’s a performer. She knows how to use her voice. “Jason. Peter. Todd. Who. Died.”

Wait. Why are they here and not—

“Your parents.” Jason’s rumble of a voice freezes time.

“…That’s not funny.”

“Lian—“

The young archer steps back, yanking her phone free, “That’s not fucking funny!”

With shaking hands, she dials her father’s number. Please, Dad, pick up.

This is Roy Harper. If I missed your call, probably my daughter’s fault. (Dad!) leave a message and I’ll hit you back.

“Baby Doll,” A large hand rests on her shoulder, “He’s not going to pick up—“

“Yes. He. Will!” Breathe, Baby doll, her mother’s voice soothes, you have to breathe. Mom. Lian dials the ‘emergencies only’ number. Mom always picked up. Always showed up when Lian called this number. The one thing she can always count o—

I’m sorry the mailbox has not been set up. Please try your call again later.

“Lian,” Donna moves closer, “There was a fire.”

Lian tries to ignore them. Dialing the number over and over.

I’m sorry the mailbox has not been set up. Please try your call again later.

Jason’s rumble again, “Your mom was being chased. They caught up with her.”

I’m sorry the mailbox has not been set up. Please try your call again later.

“Your dad went back inside to save her—“

“You’re LYING!” Phone dropping to the floor, Lian shoves Jason backwards. Despite his bigger build, Jason still staggers back. “YOU’RE LYING! HE AND MOM ARE FINE!”

“We confirmed with DNA.”

“SHUT! UP!” Lian covers her ears. It’s not true. They’re playing some horrible joke on her. Mom and Dad are going to come into the room any second. Acting like nothing can touch them. Nothing can-

Mar’i’s soft, understanding voice that breaks her, “Li.”

The tears come fast, blurring her world as she falls to the ground. Someone catches her. Someone holds her close as she screams and screams and screams. Wordless, thoughtless pain burning her throat. This can’t be real. It’s not real. It can’t be.

But it is.

The thought brings a fresh wave of pain, fresh screams and tears and pleas for her parents. They can’t be gone. They’re still young, long lives ahead of them. Lian still needs them. She needs more nights with Dad, goofing around as they cook dinner. Needs to tell Mom she didn’t hate her. Why did those have to be her last words to—

Last words.

Because she’d never talk to her parents again. Never smell Dad’s aftershave again. Never see Mom’s Chesire Cat grin, exactly like her own. Never hug them again. Never tell them she’s engaged or pregnant or any of the other life shit she thought didn’t matter. Now it does and they’re gone.

It’s not the screams that worry the others.

It’s the moment they stop. Lian laying motionless in Jason’s arms. Dark eyes a thousand miles away. If it weren’t for the rise and fall of her shoulders, they would know if she was alive…

…Even if they can see she doesn’t want to be.

#lian harper #lian nguyen harper #jason todd #donna troy #roy harper #jade nguyen #tw death #omega squad #arsenal #chesire #little red hood #the red hood #wonder girl