#all this to say you go sad past me this *is* weird and niche and u did ur best
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a very weird hamlet comic ft. the lyrics to mitski's first love/late spring I did during senior year of art school
#hamlet#procreate#comic#tw nudity#watercolor#hamlet art#mitski#the actual brief was like a two page comic with text and multiple characters I think? something like that#I got this assignment literally the same day we had put my cat down so I went to class over zoom#and uh#did not know how to process that grief so extremely niche and weird comic was how I went#I worked so hard on trying to make the reader feel something with it#and it got so torn apart in the eventual critique for being uncomfortable and 'gross' which was very humbling bc it was not what I intended#I actually don't remember the crit being in person#but I do remember crying after so maybe it was zoom#all this to say you go sad past me this *is* weird and niche and u did ur best#anyway thanks for listening to the lore#perhaps more hamlet stuff soon#requests welcome for lit art always
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I've seen a lot of people complain on tumblr about how Worm fanfic is nothing but altpower Taylors. It's not a complaint without merit, I've been hearing it since 2017. Hell, it's something I complain about a lot too. It's true, the fandom is filled with crappy altpowers that really add nothing. But to an extent, I always feel I should push back a little against it.
Even if I do advocate for just writing your own thing, there's a really good reason so few people do. There are a good amount of Worm fanfics out there that use original characters, niche characters, or do a wild take on the premise. Not a ton, not the majority, but a good amount.
But nobody reads them.
Rank is probably one of the best stories in the fandom. Long, filled with original charscter's, and with an interesting focus on a PRT officer working in San Fransisco. It's got an amazing scope, working from when Leviathan attacked Kyushu all the way to Gold Morning and has so many brilliant setpieces and bits of world building. It's earned its spot as one of the best, if not the best, story in the fandom.
It pulled in a paltry amount of comments and likes over the years it was being posted.
I remember when I first entered the fandom, there were already people warning new writers that, while it would be cooler if you wrote about someone other than Taylor, that you'd be getting a fraction of the views. And it sucks yeah, but it's the truth. I've seen a lot of writers over the years get discouraged because stories they love and put a lot of time into just get ten likes and maybe one comment an update. A good friend of mine will only pre-write her OC stories because the absolute lack of interest is so disheartening its caused her to just give up in the past.
And it's not like people who critique Worm Fanfics for being filled with shitty altpowers even really read this stuff. Say what you will about the Cauldron discord, but it's one of the few places I've seen people push HARD for others to read this niche weird stories, and even then there's pusback or luke warm reception. It's sad to see people talk shit about altpowers, but just not really check anything else out but that in the first place. It's just as bad as if you were only reading them.
Check out stories trying something original! Luz Mala, Rank, Agent of Cauldron, City of Bones and Teeth, Diary of a Professional Knock-off, Fault, Lend Me Your Ears, Mouse Trap, Sunspot, Nightcrawler, Raccoon Knight; and those are just the ones I can name off the top of my head! There are a lot out there waiting for you to find!!!!
And how to fix it? Well, I'm not sure if there is a fix. If anything is going to work though, at least be the change. If you aren't someone whose actively reading and commenting on new fics about OC's or similar, well, what incentive is there for people to write them? Sure, a love of just creating something might push you to post, but if you feels like you're just shouting into a void, it might feel better to just not shout at all.
If you want people to write good stories, give them a reason to actually do it.
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I don't understand people who come to your blog and tell you to get a job and stop making art based on a show for kids. Like, what's wrong with them? 💀 People can't have a job/study a career and having passions at the same time?
It's so easy to ignore and keep scrolling down...
How unhappy somebody has to be with their life to bother others on the internet? How miserable somebody has to be to invade someone's safe place on the internet and send them hate and calling them cringe?
The way these kind of people behave makes me think they are just envious by seeing a person making art or content related to their favorite things in the world...
Btw I really admire you as an artist! Your art is so beautiful. I love the style, the colors, the symbolisms, the lore and the little details you add to make it unique!!! Please, keep going. You are a big inspiration for many in the TTTE fandom💚🚂
thank you for the kind words, val! I dunno what's with their mindset -- people make gijinkas of kids medias like mlp and sonic and cars all the time, but when it's ttte, it's suddenly weird? I'm not angry or sad! I'm just wondering why. ttte's lore is interesting too and it's been a thing for almost 80 years. it's easy to ignore haters, in my experience. I've had many run-ins with such people in the past, and to be honest I'm no longer discouraged. they wanna play with me? I'll play too! the key is to not let them win -- they say those words casually in hopes that it'll impact you severely. get what I mean?
it's an unspoken rule in the internet that if your niche content escapes your personal circle/fandom, outsiders are bound to be caught off guard by it, spread it anywhere they want, or even call you unsavory things. especially if you have a pretty sizeable following. unfortunately, that's a risk you have to be ready to accept. you gotta defend yourself, but don't lose your cool. act like the bigger, more civil person so the other can be more at a disadvantage and look more like a fool. classic debating tactics (also it's kinda fun at this point like remember skipo123 from january)
not to mention, the amount of people that love and support me immensely outweighs those that hate me and my interests. a thousand to one, even! that would be unfair to my supporters for me to just feel down from one insensitive comment, no? let's all hold hands and have fun! let's unlearn shame together :]
#asks#verypsbfan019#love your art too val!!!! keep doing what you're doing#so glad to hear that I'm an inspiration to you HEHEHEH.....
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You do realize Harry fought actual adult death eaters who were mostly pure bloods and won? Oh no, wait now you are going to blame the book being children's even tho you spend all your time talking about the said book nvm what's funny to me is that you are out here acting Voldemort was actually given any depth in canon. He was literally written as an one dimensional villain with sad past and now wants to take over the world. WOW SO MUCH DEPTH. Absolutely not generic. There is a reason why Draco has more fans; even though Voldemort is the main villain. He. Wasn't. Developed. If it wasn't Harry Potter, Voldemort would barely have any rep. Hell, even before 2020 Voldemort barely had any fics dedicated to him. He used to be really niche. He was an one dimensional character and saying he would react to this situation like this because I know more is weird because dude has barely any lines. Also, pure bloods canonically aren't really much. So it's obvious Harry is going to win, especially in a time travel au after he fought a war. But okay you do you. Just you thinking JKR didn't fumble hard trying to write a good villain with Voldemort is funny. Just because you project onto Voldemort, doesn't automatically makes him a genius villain who never tripped. All the "great" things we know about Voldemort is through the narrator/Dumbledore dictation. We don't see Voldemort ACTUALLY living up to the hype. Maybe go reread the books, instead of fanfics about pro pure blood shtick. Bro, in the books all Walburga did was scream like a lunatic and that was her character. That's it. Your hate for Molly Weasley was funny too. You hate someone who's trying her best to help everyone with actual human flaws that is actually well written but somehow like Walburga black who's one personality is. just screaming dirty blood? Like holy fuck molly has flaws that makes me really less fond of her but at the very least her whole personality is not just shrieking and advocating death to a group of people because their blood is dirty. I feel like you read too much fanfics.
harry only won because voldemort instructed them specifically not to kill him. also, im not talking about survival fighting, im talking about formal duels. in a formal duel, harry would lose to them.
i never said voldemort wasn't one-dimensional you illiterate fuck. and i still talk about hp even though it's a childrens book because i like it.
voldemort obviously isn't a good villian because harry won in the end lmao. i never said he was.
you say i make up stuff as if tomarry isn't utter fanon. like.. yeah, no shit i make stuff up. so do you. but the stuff i make up aligns to how i think canon voldy would be, unlike you who insists harry is suuuper duuper powerful 🙄. you do you though. just... not in my askbox, yeah?
yeah, walburga was a bitch. i still like her though. the fictional characters i like has no bearing on what i accept in real life, or else i would not be a voldy fan account 💀
i dont like molly because she annoys me. being pureblood isnt real, but being annoying is. cope.
#anon.ask#its so funny I'm accused of reading too much fics when im struggling to even find one that vaguely interests me
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I didn't really know who to send this to and was just going to let it rot in my brain, but you commented on the lurker situation and it got me into a weird rabbit hole and made me kinda realize something a little tangential but I think still relevant. Maybe I'm old, but it seems like the attitude around fandom has shifted in the past decade or so from a collective of like minded people sharing and creating together, to a creator/consumer relationship that mirrors influencer culture. It's all transactional now. And that makes me sad tbh. Like participating in a community is so much fun and lurkers or those who just consume without engaging are really missing out, but also I hate seeing fan work creators getting treated like content farms. If you write or create art, nowadays that seems to define your fandom identity, it becomes your (unfair) barrier for participation and validation, and you're ostracized or forgotten and replaced if you can't continue to clear that hurdle for whatever reason. There never used to be this huge gulf between fandom creators and the other members, in my experience at least. It's like people now think they only have 2 options: be a creative person and provide a steady stream of free content (for an audience that expects/demands it from you) or mindlessly consume and only ever watch to the sidelines. But it's not true! Participate! Be a hype man! Curate your favorite fan content! Do something! Fandom is supposed to be more socialism, not capitalism! And maybe try to see the writers/artists as fellow fandom members first and content creators second. Like, you'd probably be frustrated too if people who you thought were your friends expected you to always be the only one to put in any effort to the relationship and then just ignore you if you asked for anything in return. It feels bad.
Nah, in a way I kinda feel the same. Sometimes I think I must be old because when I was younger and writing was primarily on quizilla/ff.net/LJ fics always used to have lots of comments, people would comment on each individual chapter and there were always bookmarks/faves etc.
In a way I want to say the shift in fandom has meant that people are more inclined to be lurkers now, or sites like tiktok/twt have made it easier for people to lurk. Or it could be that because there are more websites and years worth of content that it’s now easier to find fics and consume them mindlessly without worrying where you’re going to get your next fix.
But then there are sites like wattpad, and I know that everyone seems to hate wattpad for various reasons, but honestly I feel like the way their site works is ingenious. It gives people who read fics the ability to comment on each paragraph of the fic, enabling them to almost “live react” as they read through. And then you can still leave a little comment at the end or discuss in the comments with other readers/the author. And if you go on there now, you’ll see the sheer number of comments some fics have.
I also think that if you’re in a smaller/niche fandom you’re more likely to get more meaningful responses/engagement for your content. I used to write for Z Nation for example, which is an extremely small community and I got maybe 10-50 notes on a fic but more than half would be people commenting or simply interacting with me? Because people were grateful to find fics for their fave fandom? Whereas Bakugou there’s a million Bakugou fics so why should someone bother interacting with anyone when they can just scroll to the next one?
So it’s websites like that which make me think it’s partly that fandoms and the way we receive content has shifted, but I also think it’s people being selfish and ungrateful too. Because they just want to mindlessly consume and they don’t think about the living, breathing person behind the screen.
But for me personally, I’ve made some of my best friends by commenting on/reblogging their fics or just talking to them? So it’s like why wouldn’t you want to interact with people who are the same as you? Who enjoy the same things? Or why wouldn’t you want to do something so simple (and free) that could make someone’s day?
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What do you think of Adrien redemption fics, and would you ever write one?
Wow I kind of spun out on a tangent so here's the teal deer and you can read the full word vomit under the cut:
More power to the writers who enjoy such things, but personally I'm just not interested at this point, so unless it's a side plot of a Lukanette story, I wouldn't seek one out to read, nor would I write one myself. The closest I really have is Something Just Like This, where all three characters work things out not always amicably, which I tend to think of as a prequel to All in the Family, where Adrien becomes the most welcome third wheel in history. At this point in time though, I'm just tired of Adrien and all the drama, canon and fandom, that comes along with him, and I don't care enough to put the effort in.
Since I've said it in the discord I might as well say it here--if I ran the world, I would have had Adrien take all his sad about being left out in Season 4, and decide he's going to be such a good hero that LB won't need anyone else, and he'd go off to get Su Han to teach him Mirakung Fu or whatever it is and actually step up to help LB and prove he can be the partner she needs--and maybe learn along the way that it's okay not to be LB's everything and that relying on other people is actually a good thing, he doesn't have to be perfect to be important. (That plot is free to anyone who wants to use it, feel free, drop me a link so I can see what you do with it.)
Now that I've written the longest run on sentence ever, here's the actually wordy stuff under the cut. 😂
I don't think Adrien's irredeemable, in fact I don't even think he'd be all that hard to redeem, but...let me think how can I put this, because I don't want to be like love square/Adrien stans are evil because they are not. They're just people who like something different than I like and that's totally okay. Ship and let ship.
But there are a vocal number that are, shall we say, annoying. Because of that it becomes a bit of a pain to write anything because you're always going to get comments trying to argue with you (spoiler alert: I'm not looking to convince anybody nor do I care that people on the internet think I'm wrong, so I don't debate in the comments) or that sound snobby and judgey. In the past I did write Adrien into several fics and I always got weird comments on them, and the nicest ones were along the lines of, "I'm glad you don't make Adrien a complete jerk like a lot of Lukanette writers." That's not horrible, but it's also not super encouraging. Thanks, I guess? I stopped getting those comments nearer the end too so maybe people changed their mind as the story went on. 😂 (Which is fine! A very sincere thank you to anyone who quietly stopped reading and didn't leave me anything to let me know. Totally fair.)
Honestly I had similar problems with the one true salt fic I started, where a lot of the comments were just griping about the series without actually addressing my story at all, and that's kind of a bummer for me (if anyone reading this left a comment of this type please don't feel bad, I'm not saying this to guilt you, this is all about my personal preferences as a writer and none of you are mind readers).
There are a lot of things I don't like about the series, and some that occasionally make me confused or angry enough to rant about it a little bit here or on discord. At the same time, reading constant ragging and complaining about the series just depresses me. So many salt discussions spiral into this dead end of "it's such a waste what they've done and everything is awful," and there's no where to go from there. It's not going to change, and there's nothing we can do about it, and I don't like ending up at the bottom of the pit. I do this for fun and I'd rather focus on the things I like. I will be finishing Live With It, but clearly salt just doesn't make me happy, so it's not going to become my niche anytime soon.
So ultimately my reasoning boils down to, it wouldn't be fun for me, I don't think there's a huge audience out there desperately wishing I would write one, and life's too short to read or write fic that bores you. Adrien will be just fine without me.
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I'm screenshotting and pasting this ask because for some reason I can't add the mature label to the original ask and it's very necessary for this post!! Thank you for the ask anon <3
Who bottoms feels like a good place to start, so I am going to say something fully unsurprising to anybody who's ever viewed my blog: Kyle bottoms. Exclusively. I am someone who hates being like 'x is wrong' but I simply cannot get behind Kyle topping Stan. It goes against style as a whole thematically for me. More power to those who can see them that way, but I personally cannot.
I see them that way because Stan's role in the series, consistently, is one of Kyle's protector. It's brought up in Cherokee Hair Tampon, in Stick Of Truth, in Cartmanland; Stan is always the one that Kyle can fall back on, and I think that dynamic would transfer into their sex life. Kyle trusts Stan to take care of him, and Stan gets personal fulfillment out of doing so; hence, they would both get off on Stan 'taking control' of the situation as the person topping typically does. Everything style does throughout the series in relation to protection is building up this dynamic, and when they're older and that tense rope finally snaps, it's hard for me to imagine they don't instinctively fall into the roles of Stan topping and Kyle bottoming.
AS FOR SOME OTHER SMUT HEADCANONS:
- Stan would cry during their first time. He's very sensitive!! He starts sniffling once he's in and Kyle's like omg you baby come here (he's VERY touched) and he like wraps his arms around Stan's neck and holds his face close and they stay like that for a while.
- Kyle is generally more experimental during sex, and when they try new things it's probably because he suggested it. Stan just goes with the flow; he'd do whatever Kyle wanted him to tbh.
- Stan has big dick energy. We all know it's true.
- They 100% absolutely would roleplay Stick of Truth in bed, and they would use all these terrible cheesy euphemisms about swords and sheaths etc. There would really be no explaining it to anybody who walked in without context because of how weird it is.
- They're both very possessive of each other!!!! No threesomes or any branching out in that way imo; they would probably never ever recover if they found out the other had slept with anyone else/even THOUGHT of anyone else. They are #problematically codependent.
- Kyle loses his virginity to Stan, while Stan would lose his to Wendy. They're both always a little sad about that.
I have many many more thoughts about this but I'm trying not to be weird on main so these are the less niche ones. Thank you for the ask!!
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🌦 « dakota johnson. cis female. she/her. 33. » was that FIONA MILLER walking through the doors of amorelux ? i heard they just moved in to apartment 605 from NEW YORK CITY and work as a record store owner. they seem eccentric & loyal but don’t get on their bad side ! they can be sporadic & irresponsible which makes sense since they’re a CAPRICORN. you know they’re home when you see a flash of having a smoke on top of a balcony with cool air surrounding , sitting on top of a kitchen counter while eating ice cream from the tub , & pulling out a duct tape wallet from high school.
hi hi ! i’m sim and i’m super uper excited to be here ! i’m playing a pretty new character and it’s gonna be so much fun to develop her with all of y’all ! a few things about me - my tummy be hurting , i bearing noise cancelling headphones , and i talk about traffic a lot ! i’m a more hc type of girl so below find a bit about fiona’s bg but mostly a bunch of fun little hcs ! if you’re interesting in plotting hit me up on my disco ( sprite#7124 ) !!
@amoreluxintro
PINTEREST - WANTED CONNECTIONS
background
fiona is from nyc born & raised ! she’s a pretty big trust fund baby but had a falling out with her parents during college. she was ultimately cut off completely and basically had to learn life skills at the age of twenty one. she was on her own , without her parents trying to live her life and let’s just say it got pretty funny. once she needed to find a new income she decided to work for the place she was basically always at - the championship vinyl. as time went on her relationship with the owners ( an older couple ) became stronger. they both easily became a parental figure to fiona and she basically owed who she was to them ! as of recent the owners wanted to expand the shop across the nation to seattle. BUT the catch was they asked fiona to essentially own and overlook the shop over there. kinda like caring on their legacy ! and ever since she’s been in seattle and working over at championship vinyl and living at amorelux !
parallels: nick miller ( new girl ) , max blum ( happy endings ) , charlie kelly ( it’s always sunny ) , eleanor shellstrop ( the good place ) , steven hyde ( that 70′s show ) , ben wyatt ( parks & rec ) , robyn brooks ( high fidelity )
headcanons
fiona does ballet ! she might be a clutz but it’s the one thing that suck around with her from the past
honestly is able to take care of herself , but has a niche way of doing so ( e.g, she’s gotta shake the prndl a bit before turning on her car
is the biggest music and movie geek. her favorite artist is fleetwood mac and her favorite movie is house bunny.
literally only owns margarita glasses in her studio , so when you come over expect water in a marg glass
always has mismatched socks , always. at this point when she does laundry to makes sure she pairs them mismatched
every other day she probably wears her shirt inside out and only notices when someone points it out at the shop
never really acts like she owns championship vinyl. she is always there from morning to night , working behind the register and walking around
eats popcorn like its her life. has the big old costco one but like 4 of them at all times
go to drink is a glass of whiskey bc she’s a weirdo
the bangs are her personality
she’s a big planner person but she doesnt just keep one. she has like 5 , one at work, one by her bed, one in her car, one with her at all times. oof
blow up - with all those planners she fr be forgetting a lot of things
listens to the twilight soundtrack when she’s sad :/
doesnt own an umbrella and refuses to buy one .. i kNOW WEIRD RIGHT like babe you’re in seattle
her favorite color is orange because she felt bad not a lot of people liked the color
always wins thumb wars - not sure why or how but she slays
added lol to the end of every sentences thru text like it’s a punctuation mark
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assorted post-atc test day ramblings and blogging ahead (sorry idk how to do a readmore lol)
The past few days have been so unforgettable I haven't been able to stop thinking about it all... I literally feel reborn, like a totally new person starting a totally new chapter of life! I haven't felt this happy in a long time, that sort of happiness that's mixed with so many other intense emotions and makes your head spin a little (my favourite). I mean the day of testing was absolutely brutal, like nothing I've ever experienced before, but honestly it was so invigorating - and definitely very motivating after passing everything lol. I'd been having some serious doubts about whether I could do it, feeling like my weird brain would sabotage me and prove that I wasn't cut out for the only dream job I've ever had, so yeah lmao I did quite enjoy the ego massage of doing really well and not even finding the tests super difficult.
Outside of the testing there was so much that was just... intoxicating in the best way. Travelling solo for one, cos I think that's one of the greatest things on earth, but really it was the people that I met that just filled me with such a feeling of, well, I guess love? As an aromantic I struggle with the idea of love, but personally this is my equivalent; a love of humanity and human connection and sharing the same experiences while coming from such different backgrounds. It's probably inevitable that you'll bond if you're thrown into a room together to do ridiculously intense assessments all day, but genuinely I've never felt so excited and chill and myself around literal strangers like I did this week. There's always so much hiding when you're queer/trans/brown/ND in majority cishet/white/NT spaces, but there was something about being around other people with the same weird niche interest that was fucking liberating.
I mean, this was the first time I've ever met other people (especially other people of my own age!) who are also nerdy about not just aviation, but air traffic control specifically - like, in day-to-day life you talk about this stuff and most people are like "ummm okay u do u", but holy shit... to be able to infodump to people who are also interested in the very same thing and ACTUALLY WANT a conversation about it is incredible! (Which yeah, is sort of sad when you think about it cos what a low bar, but society is just anti-autistic like that ig.) We just *got* each other on that level, and makes me hunger even more than I already did to be in this world because this really fucking proves to me that this is where I belong tbh.
There's also something so electrifying to me about random brief connections like this, when you know you'll probably never see them again (aside from the other people who got into the next stage of interviewing, ily cya in a few months!). Definitely not the first person to say this, but there really is a level of honesty and openness that this kind of experience creates that is legitimately beautiful to me. We spent hours partying together and sharing so much conversation, no small talk in sight, just learning about each other. The next day I was hopping from city to city with this one guy as we tried to navigate our way to the airport (there was a storm that had shut down almost all transport) and even that, although stressful, was a fucking adventure and I really sort of loved it and we got pretty deep into some fascinating chats. And like I literally asked some random people if I could take the last seat in their Uber cos I overheard they were going to the airport too, and that is not something I EVER thought I could do as someone who's often too scared to approach people in public lol.
Depression has been telling me for the past year that I'm not capable of shit, so this was the biggest and best fuck you to that because oh my god I actually CAN!!!! I can do shit!!!! It may not all seem like much to others, but I'm actually proud of myself and am seriously riding on this high rn. I'm treating this as a new lease on life and I'm gonna keep this energy going as much as I can, because my future is seeming more and more like a thing that will actually happen. I just like... ugh I love all the people I met so much in a way that would probably sound weird if I told them, cos it's not really "love" but just absolute awe at the whole experience and how amazing people can be. Intoxicating honestly is the best word I can use to describe it.
Also literally the first person who said hi to me on the test day was a fellow gay lol, I guess the gaydars of aspiring ATCOs are just that good ;) Anyway onwards and fucking upwards, next stop is the interview and then...? The thought of it is too much I can't even write it down lkjdfsdajkfljkdkjdlkj
#do i have a tag for my own writing/posts idk#i think i need an atc tag on my blog tho for all this nerdiness so#atc#oh and also what i said about being myself n feeling accepted applies to allllllll my avgeek mutuals on here <3#genuinely appreciate you so much#such a friendly welcoming corner of tumblr that makes me smile every time i log on hehe
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I somehow have been applying a “yolo”.. but my god, the weird? purchases I have been doing as of lately.
I wish I had more of a social life (kinda sad,, lol, I know) to spend my money in those situations... but truly, besides “priority needs”... I rarely spend this much alone. Of course, the situation would be highly different if it was easier to sustain my hobbies w/o the use of the internet (aka, “get on that public transport, Sandy. you need to go downtown”)... but you know.
So... basically... I have bought merch of fave characters, doujin (old and a little more recent), old CDs, an old Shojo Beat issue... all in the past 4 months. It doesn’t look like it, but shipping expense is (as always) eating most of it away (with few exceptions, an old Perfume album and that SB issue I mention, were thankfully bought in a local sense, bless). And the thing is... I kinda don’t want to stop? but I know it’s hurting my wallet since I really cannot be doing so frequent.
THANKFULLY, I have a couple of working gigs coming, as well, and I asked for advanced payment because, duh.
I wish I could write all my dilemma and doubts about this whole stuff. My brother is worried that I will get worse, in the sense that I will not be satisfied and the like. Honestly, that’s my same worrisome thought at the moment. There’s much stuff I can get of some of my niche old interests... and there’s specific things I wish I could get, but at the moment, I haven’t presenced that much of a miracle of them appearing under my radar (again, in some cases) or, heck, in a rather accessible price... For example, doujin are rabbitholes... I do know my niche interests and I’m quite looking specific stuff about them, like rare romantic pairings and platonic/familiar relationships that attract my attention... and I’m quite lucky/unlucky that these tend to be quite a few in comparison... lol... which also makes it impossible to get what I want, too... but also, like... OTL
I think I’m being silly in worrying about this, but also, I don’t want to be addicted to the whole thing being at the tips of my fingers. I think my saving grace of sorts is the fact I barely spent much since 2020 (basically, the start of the pandemic helped)... and just after mid-2022, I’m kinda riding that horse to the horizon... but also my sin on this is that work hasn’t come my way as much as I want to (also, kinda been “vestida y alborrotada” with a couple of projects... but that is just out of my hands, which, fun)
My brother also doesn’t like me to say this... but sometimes I feel I don’t deserve doing or getting this. My thought on it is more on the vein of “saving for major emergencies, especially health stuff since, lmao, I’m not insured since I’m a freelance/informal worker :’D”, or “I could be saving to get a new powerful computer, maybe a tablet, a DRAWING tablet... or, who knows, a trip to one of my overseas choices... or maybe a car”... and my unstable working line is also one of the factors for this (besides uncertainty about the future... I KNOW I shouldn’t be a fatalist in that sense, but, BOY, OH, BOY... do I have news for you :))) ). Do I really deserve THIS kind of a treat? I can do a coffee, bread, and maybe candy. THESE? Old anime merch and the like?
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Dear Fran,
Well its been a bit hectic hasn't it? That whirlwind trip to install at ANCA with you all was so nice. I know you were stressed but I was having a great time. I do enjoy thinking about how people move through space and interact with it. I’m glad there was at least one shelf that sparked conversations about height and viewing, and I think it only enhances the connections your works have to those tomb niches below the earth...so! A success to say the least!!! How have the workshops and the weekends been by the way? Its just such a weird location that I’m curious about visitation.
Speaking of things being hectic and feeling rushed and the sense on impending doom, me too. I had the horrid realisation last week that I’m halfway through my 6month contract at the Biennale and now I have to start advocating for myself to stay. This is an immensely hard task, and one that I struggle with. I hate having to ask for things that I want or need, it truely makes me squirm and feel so icky and revolting. Not to mention that I’ve been having a few imposter syndrome flair ups and thats not helping my mood. I guess you could say I overdid it that week in CBR and then coming back to Sydney and going straight to work. I think I’ve burnt out a bit...
Another thing that I’ve been realising over the past couple of weeks is that the shock of dad’s death has worn off, and now I’m just incredibly sad. Its like a forlorn monster just slumbering inside my ribs at the very top there, just above the heart. A greyish-purple fuzzy, droopy thing. On the plus side I no longer feel concussed! WOO! A major win in my books. That was fucked.
Anyway I was thinking about the exhibition and your work and how this time last year we were gearing up to start this blog with Mayspace. I was thinking about all the digital works I made as part of that and how fun it was, so I just started playing an image of your work. I chose purple and orange because they seemed very you colours....I know you’ve seen some of the others but this little video (I hope it works oh god) was one of those experiments. Of course it ended up a kaleidoscope type flower. Naturally.
I am a bit bummed out about the exhibition at Belco arts being pushed back to 2024 but maybe its for the best? I guess i just wanted something with a tangible outcome to aim for, to kickstart my drive again. Also re your piece, I love the bronze glaze too and I hope you’ve entered it! I think things like that are great platforms for trying out new ideas because you get such good feedback.
Take care and chat soon!
xxxxx Zoe
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youtube & use lube
part 7 of my netflix and chill collection!
summary: You can’t believe this is Jungkook’s preferred sick day treatment; YouTube, cuddles, and an ugly amount of lube.
warnings: smut in the forms of nipple play, handjobs, spit kink, face riding, unprotected, flavored warming lube, riding, praise kink, soft femdom, missionary bc his eyes are pretty, tit sucking, more jk has an impreg kink, oh and this is all subby kook
rating: mature (18+)
miscellaneous: domesticity baby!! fluff, soft scenes /.\, jk is sick:((, doyeon is A Doctor, yn sees an opportunity and she grabs it, surprise ending <3
word count: 8.7k
notes: finally…. 7 parts later and we get ~✨💓sub kook💓✨~ this was honestly my fave to write I think because I was obSESSEDDD with his softness and yn leading hehe /.\ also yeah we time jumped 6 months bc uhmmm 😎 story progression also here’s [ THE KOOK U SHOULD IMAGINE FOR THIS 😡 ] also if see a typo ummm no u didn't .
let me know what u think! a simple ask goes a long way <3
Despite what past experiences may dictate, Jungkook’s body is actually quite resilient. It’s due in part to his obnoxiously healthy lifestyle; avocado breakfasts, gym rat tendencies, and a normal person’s circadian rhythm (you could never relate). He lives the life health professionals can only dream of writing down in their notes, so careful of his well-being that it’s almost annoying. Of all the habits you help him break, the rituals he sometimes forgets, his health is never one and it’s actually one he ropes you into quite often. The ladder accident last summer had truly been an odd occurrence, and for a while after, you doubt anything else will ever happen to him.
And then winter comes.
Now, Jungkook, with all his superior bodily systems and strict lifestyle, is still not immune to the common cold. So when he comes down with a stuffy nose, a saggy frame, you’re not too surprised. It’s right after New Year’s, which you had spent it at one of Taehyung’s classic overcrowded parties this year, shivering on a rooftop as he kissed you silly under the fireworks, so one of you was bound to get sick. And you were sick for Halloween, so it’s only the universe’s way of leveling the playing field when he gets sick after New Years.
What does surprise you is when he doesn’t bounce back right away. Usually, Jungkook’s high caliber immune system has him in tip top shape about two days later. But this time around, it takes a while. In fact, it takes longer than usual, and you don’t realize until you’re coming over on a Friday night, met with an unusual silence at the Jeon household.
As you slowly grew accustomed to your life out of school, you and Jungkook accepted that you didn’t really have time to be glued to each other’s hips at all hours of the day. It was only natural that sometimes you had too much work, were too tired, or were just not in the mood to visit each other. That was fine, and you’ve come to quite appreciate this new routine, because it only made your heart flutter faster than before when you did see him next. You don’t have to see each other everyday, and that was fine; it was part of growing up together (and growing old together, your sappy heart says).
But today, this separation ends up being your downfall. Jungkook first showed signs of a cold on Monday, and now it was Friday and you hadn’t heard from him in two days. You’re beginning to suspect he’s come down with something severe— maybe that strain of the flu that he forgot to get vaccinated for this year —or even worse, dead.
Luckily, Jungkook isn’t dead, just sadly slumped across the end of his bed, nose a bright red and hair a tangled mess. “Oh no,” you frown, but there’s not an ounce of distress in your voice, because boy, was he cute.
He groans at the sight of you. “Don’t look at me,” he whimpers, hands fisting the sheets. “I’m ugly.”
You bite down on a smile, hang your bag on the hook behind his bedroom door. He’s barely making an effort to stay on the bed, clinging to the side with such powerless hands. “Absolutely hideous,” you play along, arms wrapping around his middle. Registering your touch, your support, he immediately releases what little grip he had and almost sends the two of you tumbling to the ground. “My poor baby,” you croon, manhandling him back into the comfort of his sheets.
Perhaps the reason you believed Jungkook was so immune was because, well, he never let you see him sick.
He was picky about his presentation to the world, always wanting to show his best side. And well, you were in that world. Hell, you were probably the main person he wanted to show off for (not to toot your own horn), so he avidly avoided showing you his unpleasant sides. Even in college, when you had been practically stuck to his side, he had always made a big deal of pushing you away when he was sick, calling off dates and hiding away at his house.
You sort of knew why. Namjoon had told you once that Jungkook when drunk was the equivalent of a needy, whiny baby. You could attest to that because wine drunk Jungkook and vodka drunk Jungkook were quite the experiences to haul home. And apparently Jungkook when sick was more or less the same. He was all doe eyes and pouty lips, magnified by his weakened appearance. He was adorable.
He’s wearing a lot of layers, but it’s still winter so you don’t think too much of it. Dark long sleeve sweatshirt, the front tucked into some cute brown and black checkered pants. You see it as just some casual at home attire until you reach for his covers, hand brushing his hair from his face, only to find it ice cold.
“Oh, you’re freezing, honey,” you frown, for real this time. Jungkook whimpers, snuggles into the sheets you pull up to his chin. He dozes off soon after, pouty lips chapped to hell and back. You reach for your chapstick, deciding to get one good use of it on your own lips before contaminating it with Jungkook’s sick germs. Even in his sleep he’s a good boy, rolling his lips together after you’ve applied it on him.
With Jungkook knocked out, you pad back downstairs and into his kitchen. You can more or less infer that he’s come down with something a little more intense than a cold. His skin was cold, and his nose was runny, but, oddly enough, he wasn’t sweating. You decide to consult a professional.
“The little gremlin is sick?” Doyeon repeats, a comforting buzz in your ear as you get to work making Jungkook your famous Get Better Soon Soup, idly waiting for the water to boil over. You confirm. Doyeon, legend that she was, accidentally sat an entire physiology class one semester (and passed), so this is the closest you’ll get to a doctor friend. “Hm,” she says, “what’re his symptoms?”
You press your phone between your ear and shoulder, clattering around Jungkook’s kitchen for ingredients. “Runny nose and colder than your ass that one time you passed out in the snow,” you supply. “Oh, but not sweating.”
Doyeon hums over the line, tells you to give her a second, and disappears. “WebMD is saying fever, but you said he’s not sweating?” You confirm again. “Throw him in front of the heater and make him sweat then. He has to burn it out somehow.”
“I can’t do that,” you sigh, pausing when you hear some vague sound from around the house. It’s not Jungkook, so you return to your call. Anyway, Jungkook’s house is, like, perfect. Always warm when need be and always cold as well. You don’t even think he knows what a space heater is. “He’s sick sick. Like, can barely hold himself up sick.”
She scoffs. “And I care why?” You huff, go to scold her for their weird rivalry, but then she’s moving on. “Babe, just give him some pain relief and call it a day.”
“Fine,” you mumble. “Wait, can you look something else up for me?”
Anyway, Jungkook probably has a fever, except it’s weird because he’s not sweating it out. He wakes up about an hour later, but this time he’s more self aware. He eats his soup and takes the medicine you offer him. Afterwards, he can’t go back to sleep so he huffily asks for his iPad and begins watching some weirdly specific YouTube videos you don’t think you’ve ever seen him watch before.
You have absolutely no idea what he’s watching, some niche videos of guys in Singapore turning random forest areas into underwater pools? You don’t know. Jungkook seems interested, though, for all of ten minutes until he falls asleep again.
He’s still cold, poor baby, nose like an ice cube that just won’t melt. You find a heating pad you left over in his closet and place it on his chest. Your thought process is that if his heart, the source of all energy, was warm, then certainly the rest of him will warm up soon enough. Yeah, you missed the last three seasons of Grey’s Anatomy; you were a little rusty.
So with Jungkook fast asleep and nothing else to do, you assume the age-old, patriarchal task of cleaning around the house.
His house was usually neat and tidy, mostly as a result of Jungkook’s virgo manifestations, but even those varied. His living room tended to be spotless, but his personal office was a different story. But with him having been out of it this past week, the entire house is littered in tiny garbage that would make Normal Jungkook burst a blood vessel.
There’s a pile of Reese’s wrappers in the downstairs bathroom, on the sink next to his toothbrush. The sight makes you sad, because your poor boy must have been struggling if he was eating candy in the bathroom, where he… uses the bathroom. And then that thought makes you even sadder, thinking back to all the times he was sick and alone, fending for himself out of his weird embarrassment of showing normal body functions.
You had thought he was cute when you first arrived— he still was —but he was also so weak and frail, bulky muscles rendered useless by whatever bacteria was attacking his body, making him sleepy and in pain for god knows how long. With a resolute nod, you sweep all the wrappers into the trash and decide to do your very best at helping Jungkook get through this sickness and bounce back better than ever.
Before leaving his bathroom, you ransack his cabinets, deciding he probably keeps most of his antibiotics here. It’s a spot you never really snoop around, because Jungkook always keeps a fully stocked basket in his closet filled with your typical necessities— from conditioner to pads to nail polish remover, he kept it all. And furthermore, you always tended to use his upstairs bathroom anyway, so that’s where your toothbrush and the like were kept. There was really no need for you to ever look through the downstairs bathroom’s cabinet. So the downstairs bathroom cabinet is practically the other side of the world to you, a culture shock so strong it has you plopping down in front of it to thoroughly sift through.
He’s got a disgusting amount of hair products, none of which you actually think you’ve ever seen him use, and a maniacal amount of tooth stuff. Now, you were quite possibly the biggest proponent for dental care, but this was ridiculous. Four packs of floss on reserve, and about three cases of those dental picks. A whole family pack of toothbrushes and one of those cute little cases for his retainer you’ve seen a few times.
So overwhelmed with his ungodly stash of dental hygiene utilities, you almost miss the pretty pink tube hidden in the very back corner.
You’re thinking it’s some makeup primer you left before that he mistook for moisturizer, probably dumped it with all his other things, only to find out you are very, very wrong.
Sensation Warming Lubricant: NOW! in strawberry flavor
You blink.
Lubricant? Jungkook was using lubricant? Strawberry, sensation warming lubricant?!
Somewhere in your mind you had convinced yourself that Jungkook was a simple man, a lotion at his bedside drawer type of man. He had you for the last one and half year, and you two fucked like rabbits, so you hardly doubt he was jacking it alone these days. And even if he was, why on earth was he so specific about the type of lube he uses?
You turn the bottle around, eyes scanning for an expiration date or something of the like, only to find that the copyright symbol was under this current year. The year that had just started, like, two weeks ago.
Oh, so this was new.
You turn it over, eyes scanning over the warnings like it’ll tell you something about your boyfriend you don’t know yet, some other hidden secret that he’s maybe held from you. Granted, owning lube isn’t really a big deal, but the fact he’s got it so hidden away (not really, it was casually sitting beside his sunscreen) was definitely something to zero in on.
Strawberry flavored, you read again, warming, stimulating, edible? Forget his weirdly extensive floss collection, you had stumbled upon something amazing in here, the goddamn Hope Diamond among snooping girlfriend finds. You’ll confront him about this later, you decide, when he’s back to normal and not whiningly calling your name from upstairs. You pocket it for now, tucking it into your cardigan pockets for said later interrogation, and bound up the stairs to him again.
He’s sitting up in bed like a very angry and confused toddler, brows furrowed sharply like he’s mad. Actually, he just can’t see, the light from the hallway blinding him, so you shut the door and flick on his bedside lamp for him instead. “Hi, honey,” you coo, sitting down on the edge beside him. He’s still waking up, leaning a little too heavily into your palm when you cup his face. “How’re you feeling?”
“Terrible,” he rasps out, but he’s definitely looking better than before. You don’t know if you imagine it, but there’s this slowly accumulating sweat that forms along the base of his neck. “Please don’t leave again,” he says softly, droopy eyes glassy.
Something shoots straight to your heart— an arrow from Cupid himself! —that makes you stroke his cheek tenderly until his eyelids are fluttering shut again. “I won’t,” you promise, feeling around for his iPad. He doesn’t seem like he’ll fall back asleep, sitting up with more strength than he had that morning.
You end up climbing behind him, let him be the little spoon you know he secretly craves to be, as he watches his weird YouTube videos again. His body is so warm against yours, but his skin is still so cold. If what Doyeon had said was true, it’s no wonder he’s kept the same sickness all week. The rhythmic sound of machetes hacking at the earth and water trickling through bamboo pipes grows on you, makes you fall into a sense of comfort behind him, arms tracing circles over his chest.
It’s a mindless habit, one you actually do a lot. Most of the time, it’s when he’s at his desk and stressed out, your masseuse hands making an appearance to soothe the muscles in his neck and chest from being hunched over for so long. Even now, your fingers unconsciously press into the fabric over his pecks, tickle up his sternum until he’s melting against you.
It takes one quiet whimper from him to let you know exactly how he’s feeling. “Everything alright?” you inquire, halting your movements over his chest. Jungkook nods shakily, head lolling forward. The nape of his neck calls to you, whispers for a kiss that you tenderly bestow upon it. It makes Jungkook jolt, another pretty sound leaving his lips at the press of your warm lips against his sensitive neck.
“No more,” he mumbles, rolls his head around until it’s resting against your shoulder, giving you a clear view down his chest. You slide your hands back up from where they’d gone stiff just around his ribs, let them palm over his pecs. Jungkook’s hips buck, a minuscule movement you almost miss.
His heart thunders like the inside of a horse race track beneath your palm, breath picking up just from the simple motion of your hands on his chest. It’s on the fourth circle around his pecs that you feel your pinky briefly catch on something. “Poor thing,” you sigh, running the pad of your pointer finger over the hardened nipple that peaks beneath his sweatshirt. “Is this what was bothering you?”
A shaky exhale in response, hands tightly clutching at his iPad and beloved YouTube video genre. “N-No,” he denies, but you chance a peak at his face, where his lips are bitten a rosy pink color, its slightly muted sister rushing down his cheeks, over his neck.
You press the lightest of kisses to the side of his neck, and he shivers. “Need me to take care of you?” you purr, trail your hands down his chest towards where the hem of his sweater sits. You run your finger over it twice, before moving to slip your hand beneath. Your fingers brush along his abs, contracted tightly at your touch, and slowly make their way back up his chest.
Fingers find his pebbled nipples, a gasp escaping his lips. “Does this feel good?” you ask softly, pinching the swollen nubs between your fingers. Jungkook groans, body arching just the slightest as you rub his nipples, tug and twist them until he’s a whining mess. “Need you to tell me, honey,” you encourage, lips ghosting over his neck.
The second kiss has him flinching as well, head rapidly turning the other way as you slowly kiss over his neck. “___, please,” he pants, knuckles pale on the sides of the iPad. You're afraid it’ll snap, if not from his grip then from the way he pushes at it, like he’s breaking a wooden board over his knee. It’s still on YouTube, playing another video from the same collection, volume competing with Jungkook’s tiny sounds.
Pressing your lips to his neck, you kiss along it slowly, reveling in the lovely noises that Jungkook produces the more you rub his nipples, lower body squirming animatedly before you. Your kisses grow wet for a short period, suck purple blossoms across his skin until Jungkook is quivering like a leaf. “E-Enough,” he begs, voice a wobbly mess that is so light and airy.
You grin, giving his rockhard nipples one last flick before sliding your hands down his chest, over his stomach to toy with the elastic of his pants. He inhales sharply, iPad nearly snapped in half mid video. Ready to play with him some more (and slightly afraid for the future of his tablet), you reach out a hand to move it away, set it off to the side.
But Jungkook doesn’t release it. In fact, he clings to the damn piece of tech tighter than before. “Hmm?” you murmur, bottom lip brushing against his neck once more. “Not letting go, sweetheart?”
He shakes his head, soft crown of curls bouncing from the movement. “Can’t, can’t,” he shivers. His knees shift back and forth, move between being casually spread and flush together. Like he’s hiding something, using the iPad and the videos on screen as cover. You tug at his wrist and Jungkook shakes his head again.
You change tactics, hand sliding around his wrist instead. The other travels up, up, up, comes curling around the base of his neck. Jungkook whimpers, tilts his head back for you cutely at the first brush of your fingers against his Adam’s apple. “Thought you were my good boy?” you ask, eyes zeroed in on the tremble of his lower lip.
Jungkook exhales shakily, a rather torn expression crossing his features. “I am,” he insists, fingers still tight “I am your good boy.”
You smile, stroking the front of his neck softly as you lean down to press a kiss against his cheek. “You are, aren’t you?” He whimpers. “Then let go, honey,” you murmur, hand on his wrist giving another experimental tug. Still, his grip remains solid. “Jungkook,” you snap, “let go.”
“Y-You’ll laugh,” he cries, yet his grip slowly weakens. It’s with a swift tug that the iPad tumbles to his side, presses against his hip, and shows you the raging hard-on that stirs beneath the front of his cotton pants. Pressed nearly beside your ear, Jungkook shivers.
Ever so slowly, your hands return to their place around his waist. “Why would I laugh, sweetheart?” you mumble, marveling at the way his cock twitches and jumps beneath his pants before you can even touch it. His shirt is hiked up just above his abs, your hands tenderly stroking over the skin beneath his navel, but it’s got Jungkook writhing. “Hips up for me,” you instruct.
He shakes even when he pushes himself up, knees wobbling as you slip your hands beneath his waistband and tug them down his thighs. Afterwards, his legs flop forward flatly, spread out with his beautiful swollen cock on display against his hip.
You trap it at the base and Jungkook mewls, hands fisting the sheets now that his beloved iPad has been snatched away. It’s still playing his videos, interrupting his saccharine moans with corny ads every few minutes. A hand snaps up to join, opposite of yours, until your fingers are entwined around his dick. How romantic, you think, discreetly rolling your hips back against the mattress. “Gonna help me make you cum?” you ask instead, give him a light squeeze that makes him jolt.
“Uh huh,” he responds, feathery.
You reward him with a kiss to his cheek, reaching up to brush away the hair that’s begun sticking to his forehead. In the very back of your head you recognize this as being good for his fever, but the rest of you is more concerned with the pretty pout on his lips. “Hold tight for me,” you smile, releasing his cock to press your finger against the very tip of his cock where a pearly drop of precum has begun forming. “So pretty, Jungkookie,” you praise, teasing the length of your finger over the slit on his head. It has that juicy droplet coating your finger, gliding seamlessly over and over again.
The simple touch makes him buck, has him blindly wrapping an arm around your bent knee that was pressed to his side this whole time. He squeezes around you rather weakly, the majority of his strength going to holding his cock tightly like you’d instructed. He’s such a good boy for you, trying his absolute best, even when you’re very obviously overwhelming him.
You roll the flat side of your finger over him, his mushroom tip slowly growing more and more slick as he produces more precum. It’s shiny, fits perfectly between your clasped fingers when you squeeze around his head. Jungkook’s breath turns labored.
He’s always so well kept down there, skin so smooth and free of hairs, and you know he does it because he wants to impress you. “So pretty, baby,” you hum, acknowledging his efforts. Your praise makes Jungkook moan, suddenly fucking up into his hand. It’s accidental, because he hisses at the drag of his dry palm around his relatively dry dick immediately.
“Hurts, hurts,” he whimpers prettily, lower lip caught between his teeth.
You frown, slide your wet fingers down the base of his cock until they’re wrapping around his and Jungkook’s little gasps even out. “I’m sorry, baby, you gotta be patie—“
Something presses against your hip, something distinctly hard that you had hastily picked up from his bathroom cabinet earlier, and a whole new door opens before your eyes. “Hold still for me,” you tell him quickly as you release your grip around his cock. Jungkook wails at the separation, but you’re more concerned with wrestling the tube out of your pocket with one hand. It’s heavy in your palm, turning over until that big fat label on front comes into view again.
Jungkook explodes at the sight. “Wh— Where did you find that?” he stammers, cheeks ablaze. “I-I don’t know where that came fro—“
You ignore him, hold the bottle of lubricant over his stomach as you uncap it, a gooey pink substance spilling over into your hands the moment the lid pops off. Jungkook is still rambling away about the origins of the bottle, as if you care. You set the bottle on his tummy, the cold plastic makes him shiver. But you know what’s not cold? The warming lube in your hands that only takes three rubs of your palms to activate.
You latch down like a crazed animal around his cock. With both your hands fighting to grip at his cock, you’re pressed closer against Jungkook, lips against the shell of his ear.
The initial touch makes him sob, back arching and legs kicking at the sheets piled at the foot of the bed as your slick hands track the lube over his dick. “No!” he cries, hands wildly reaching out to grab whatever he can as you slowly get to work pulling him off. “I-I can’t, __, I can’t.”
“You can,” you coo, watching the translucent pink substance coat his cock, join his sticky precum.
Maybe you get overexcited in your efforts, forget Jungkook is the way he is right now because he was still a little weak from his fever, but you go crazy on stroking his cock. One hand lingers around the base, squeezing and rolling over his balls, palm pressing against the hardened sac and squeezing there too. The other focuses at the tip, does most of the actual stroking over his cock. His head is leaking precum now, every stroke and squeeze making him shudder and push out another drop, until it’s mixing with the lube to form a sticky sweet substance that you wanna lick at so bad.
So you do.
You release one hand to curiously bring it up to your face, turning it over and around as you examine the stickiness on your fingers, the fat drop that unintentionally drips onto the front of Jungkook’s sweatshirt. He sobs at the sight of your lips around your fingers, squirms and bucks into the hand still on his cock until he’s embarrassingly coming. “I’m sorry,” he wails, hands fisting the sheets, fucking into your hand like a virgin. “I didn’t— I didn’t mean to.”
You draw your hand away, watching in slow motion the cum that just spurted from his cock come dribbling down the slowly softening length now. “Oh, sweetheart,” you croon, hands on his tummy. The bottle of lube slips to the side, meets the still playing iPad at his hip. It’s sticky and gross to touch him like this, especially when you know Jungkook hates being unnecessarily dirty, but you can’t stop yourself from softly caressing him, soothe him after such a hard-hitting orgasm.
Honestly you had thought he would hold up a little more, let you get in a few more strokes, but he must’ve been more sensitive than you thought. “I’m sorry,” he cries again, head lolling to the side to meet your gaze with watery eyes.
You tilt his head to the side, angle him just right for you to bestow your first kiss of the night against his little pout. Jungkook hiccups, melts against you as you slowly guide him through the kiss. He’s sloppy and shy, moves nothing like your normal Jungkook, and that fact alone has you slipping your tongue past his lips. He doesn’t fight back, just lets you play with him and sighs all delicately against your mouth.
There’s something about this, his soft and submissive attitude, that has you pulling away to look at him. Big brown eyes, glassed over with unshed tears, and plush lips that call your name. And yet.
“Open,” you murmur, hypnotized by the way that tiny mouth moves.
“Huh?” Jungkook flushes, but he’s so good, he’s your good boy, and does so anyway. Lower lip quivers as he parts his lips, stuttering exhales creeping through as you purse your lips, let the saliva collect on your mouth, before rudely spitting into his. He flinches, whimpers softly, and swallows. He looks at you with these expectant eyes, like he wants to hear how much of a good boy he is, so you do exactly that.
You brush his bangs away lovingly. “Aren’t you just so good for me,” you purr, revel in the way his eyes flutter shut at your touch, like you could never hurt him, and you won’t.
As sweet as the moment is, there’s a raging fire in your core begging to be stroked, and your hyperfixation on Jungkook’s mouth lets you know there’s only one way to chase the feeling. “Up,” you tell Jungkook, who whimpers sadly when you finally escape from behind him.
But you don’t get too far, settling beside him on the bed until you’re looking at the damage you’ve caused from the front. His skin is sticky in some places, pink sheen of the lube decorating him from your incessant touching. Pants around his thighs, shirt against his chest. His face is flushed, all the way down to his chest and up to his ears, so rosy and pink all for you. He shies away under your gaze, drops his head to his chin bashfully.
You grin, shuffle forward to turn those pretty eyes back towards you. “Messy little thing,” you tease, slotting your mouths together again. Jungkook moans this time, lazily kissing you back. His lips move in slow motion, trembling hands reaching for your face to cup, your name falling from his lips when you pull away slightly. “Need you to help me out now,” you murmur, hand on his jaw. “Can you do that, honey?” Jungkook nods hurriedly, eyes foggy and on your mouth. “Lay back.”
He does so, rushes to lay against the pillows until he’s flat on his back. You get to work on your clothes, shed your cardigan and languidly tug your top over your head in the way you know makes your breasts bounce. Beneath you, Jungkook whines at the sight. “You too,” you remind him, wiggling out of your jeans. At your instruction, he begins fumbling with his clothes, pants and underwear haphazardly thrown over the edge of the bed.
By the time you’re naked, you’re met with a rather amusing sight.
In his haste to take his clothing off, Jungkook seems to have gotten himself tangled in his long sleeves, shirt awkwardly bunched up around his wrists and twisted over some. You chuckle. “Help please,” he asks so politely, shaking his arms back and forth above his head. But you’re genuinely confused as to what he did, because one of the sleeves wraps around the other, pins the bulk of the fabric to his skin, and then the other wraps around that. A mess you don’t bother dissecting, simply climbing over him. He complains, of course, soft huffs you wave off.
“Don’t need them anyway,” you shrug, can’t help the lovesick look you send him when you brush his hair away for the umpteenth time. Jungkook leans into the touch sweetly, rosy cheek pressed against your palm. “Lemme see your pretty little tongue,” you order, pussy clenching when he does as told and rolls his tongue out for you, tip pressed against his bottom lip. “Good boy.”
A soft whimper, and then you’re shuffling over him, pretty doe eyes watching with amazement when you finally hover over his face. “For me?” he asks so softly, so sweetly.
It’s a question you’ve heard him utter countless times before in similar settings, always with a cocky grin and mean eyes, ready to send you to hell and back with his tongue or his cock. But it’s different now, big shiny eyes looking at you like you’re the greatest thing to ever happen in his life, so pliant and demure beneath your touch like he lived to serve you.
“All for you,” you assure him, get comfortable, and slowly lower your pussy over his face. His eyes flutter shut immediately, pink tongue ready for you by the time your dripping cunt nears his face.
You can’t help the moan that tears itself from your throat, a soft cry as he begins lapping against your folds. He’s so tender, so careful. It drives you crazy. Hands above his head squirming as you slowly grind your pussy over his face, more mindful than usual because he was so delicate tonight, like a baby bird that shivers with the simplest touch.
His tongue is smooth, circles around your clit. He nudges your bundle of nerves back and forth a few times, sends an initial wave of tingles down your spine, before taking it between puckered lips. His slurps it into his mouth, where it’s so hot and wet, it makes your grind stutter. “Oh,” you pant, reaching down to tangle your fingers in his hair. “P-Perfect,” you mumble.
The praise makes his features twist up cutely, mouth desperate to get more out of you. “You like that?” you gasp, holding his head still as he runs his tongue along your folds. Jungkook nods, eyes glazed over as he messily begins eating you out. “Like when I tell you you’re a good boy, Jungkookie?”
He lets out a broken whine, the vibrations shooting up your spine and making you shiver. Tongue pressed in at your entrance, prods gently like it’s his first time (it’s not) and he’s gauging your reactions. “Oh baby,” you shudder, fingers tightening in his curls.
He looks like an angel beneath you like this, halo of curls artfully splayed across the sheets, arms knotted above his head. Big pretty eyes that make you want to lay down and be his bitch instead, their power just so strong even when he’s whining and whimpering against your pussy like this. His tongue dips into your cunt, makes you buck against him by accident. “I’m sorry, angel,” you breathe, so caught up in your thoughts that the name just slips. It makes Jungkook’s cheeks flush a pretty pink, arms tug at their makeshift restraints. But his brain is scattered, torn between releasing himself, eating you out, and being shy.
He settles soon enough, ends up just sticking his tongue out flat for you to grind against, using the grip in his curls to drag your pussy over his face. His scalp feels warm, sweat clinging to his hairline. He sighs endearingly against you, and it’s that final puff of warm air against your folds that has you coming, cum dripping over his lips and chin sinfully.
When you finish, you quickly get off of him, lay down beside him. Jungkook is panting softly, tongue peeking out to taste the cum that splattered against the corner of his lips. “You were so good for me,” you praise, idly dragging your finger across his skin, collecting your cum on the tip.
Jungkook looks at you with a heavy gaze, knotted wrists slowly returning to rest over his abdomen. “Can you… Can you call me that again?” he asks hesitantly, so shy and polite.
“Hm?” you ask. “Angel?” His lips part, an awfully aroused look crossing his features. You smile, press your cum loaded finger against his lips and he opens, sucks around your finger and moans. “My pretty little angel,” you purr, slowly thrusting your finger in and out of his mouth. Before you can stop yourself, you’re leaning over to kiss him again, swallowing his cries in your desperate need to taste yourself on his tongue. Jungkook is more active this time around, daringly challenging your tongue with his before ultimately giving up, languidly following the pace you set for the kiss. You pull off with a pop, leave him dazed and trailing after your mouth cutely.
You pat his cheek once, offer him a tender smile, before moving to get up and clean up. Jungkook whines at your departure, and it’s only once you’ve sat up that you realize why.
Half hard cock at his hip, fattening slowly but surely. Instantly, it’s like the post-orgasm fatigue is yanked away, pussy throbbing at the sight of your angel and his cock, swelling from eating you out and kissing. He was too good to be true.
“Oh, you poor thing,” you sigh dramatically, shifting onto your knees at his hip to look at him. Something pokes your leg; it’s the stupid iPad playing his dorky YouTube videos that you click off and chuck to the other side of the bed. You had had enough of that by now.
He’s not at full mast yet, and he’s not getting there quick enough for your liking. So you take matters into your own hands. (Besides, what was stopping you tonight? Certainly not this soft, pliant Jungkook.)
Kneeling between his legs, you reach for the forgotten bottle of lube, squirt a fat glob into your hands, then decide that isn’t enough and squirt it directly onto your chest. Jungkook watches with wide eyes, lower lip caught between his teeth. “What— What’re you doing?” he stammers, can’t even sit up with his hands held together. “__, y-you don’t have—“
Squeezing your breasts together, you slip his cock between the crevice, watch as his angry head comes out on the other side so easily, so slippery. Oh, this was gonna be post-work, shower-time, spank bank material for months.
Jungkook sobs, loud and unfiltered at the sight, expression torn as he watches you slowly work your tightened breasts down his quickly hardening member. “T-Too much, too much,” he cries, squirming and bucking beneath you. “I-I’ll come—”
“Don’t,” you snap, stilling your moments to flick your eyes back to him. His head is rolled back, jaw strained, but when he manages to lift it up and look down at you, there’s tears that streak his cute face, trails that glisten when the lowlight of the lamp hits him just right. “Don’t fucking come yet, Jungkook.”
He sniffles weakly, more tears spilling from his eyes. “But I— it feels,” he blubbers, knotted hands reaching down for the base of his cock. You slap it away. “___, please,” he wails, face flushed from all his conflicting emotions.
Ignoring his cries, you get back to work, moving your upper body to and fro to simulate the thrusting motion he is too weak to do himself. He whimpers pitifully, more tears leaving his eyes when you lean down and spit on the head of his cock when it emerges next, make it join the rest of the ungodly fluids painting your chest. Honestly, you’re certain it’s that damned strawberry flavored, sensation warming, edible lube that makes this experience so enjoyable, so mind-blowing.
Jungkook seems to agree, stuttering out a messy whine. “Feels weird,” he snivels, only to be cut off when you release him from in between your tits. Immediately, he begins lamenting the loss.
Slowly, you ease him back in. You’re beginning to understand the intensity of that damned warming lube, because with each glide of his cock between your breasts, it’s like a tingle of nerves sparks within you, insides folding in on themselves as they channel all their energy to that one area of hastily spread lube. It feels so good and wet and messy, Jungkook’s whiny sniffles only fueling the experience. His cock twitches dangerously, and you flash him a glare. “Jungkook,” you warn.
“I’m sorry,” he weeps, thrashing back and forth as if that makes it any easier. “I just— I want,” he chokes, hips bucking into the suction you’ve created between your boobs. Tentatively, you stick your tongue out, let his tip brush against it on the next thrust. Jungkook curses, a feral groan escaping his lips. “Wanna fuck,” he seethes, “now.”
It’s but a slight peek into his regular personality, his normal mannerisms. But something about it now annoys you. In fact, it pisses you off, seeing him be so complacent and sweet just to try and overthrow you at the last second. And it’s with this same train of thought that you release him, climb over him like a crazed sex demon, and press your hand to his throat.
“You're supposed to be good,” you spit, scowl turned on him and it immediately has Jungkook drawing back with his tail tucked, falling into line as he should. “You’re supposed to be my angel tonight, remember?”
Jungkook nods, big round eyes looking at you like you’re insane, but the cock that presses against your ass tells you that he likes it. “I-I’m sorry,” he stutters, shrinking back into the mattress. Sticky hands around his throat, probably make him warm and tingly, but all you can think about is those pretty eyes. Sensing your wavering emotions, he takes advantage by tilting his chin forward for you cutely, pink lips trembling as he silently asks for a kiss.
You release him.
“Stupid angel,” you huff, mouth against his. “Gonna make me mad if you don’t act right,” you remind him, pushing his sweaty curls away from his face. He whimpers against your mouth, let’s you play with his hair as you calm down. He’s a blushing mess beneath you, every inch of him flushed and warm and sweaty.
You shift back and are met with his still rock hard member against your ass. You touch him appreciatively, reaching back to stroke him with a half-assed grip. It makes him moan nonetheless, pulling away from your lips to mewl against your shoulder. “Wanna fuck?” you hum, curling your hand over the tip like he likes, watching his head roll back against his pillow at the sensation. Jungkook groans, doesn’t seem to hear you now. You try again. “Wanna fuck my pussy, baby?”
“Yes,” he gasps this time, jolts when you press the tip of your finger against the slit on his head, plug his cock from releasing any more precum. “Please, please,” he begs, the hands on his chest straining against the shirt he still hasn’t managed to shake off.
One last kiss is delivered to him, a chaste one against his pout that makes him whine. “Whatever you want,” you purr, line him up.
Your hands are still sticky with the lube and so is his cock. Everything is sticky; his cock, you folds, your tits, his neck. It’s a big sticky, slippery mess, but you can’t even be annoyed because everything feels so good. Your tits tingle from whatever they put in that damn lube, nipples rock hard and extra swollen today, like if you don’t touch them you’ll die. You sink back into Jungkook’s throbbing cock, and the second his cock spreads the lube along your walls, you’re jolting because it just feels so damn good.
You can’t believe this is Jungkook’s preferred sick day treatment; YouTube, cuddles, and an ugly amount of lube.
His cock pushes past your folds, fits snugly inside of you just like it belongs. It still feels like the first time, feels like your first day where he was so perfect and sweet. Part of you wonders what would have become of you two if he had reacted like this that day, soft and whiny, when you first prepositioned him. Maybe the sexual aspect of your relationship would be entirely different today, maybe you’d be one the always leading.
But… you’re not sure if you’d want that. Leading is fun— hell, you’re certain this moment will be what you get engraved on your tombstone —but you were a pillow princess at heart with occasional dominant tendencies. You drool over this moment now, but if he asks for this again tomorrow you might actually bend over and die. It was a lot of work, keeping the energy going, and you find yourself having this newfound sense of respect for Jungkook as his cock slips past your folds.
Anyway, when you sit on his cock, fingers teasingly tightening around his throat, Jungkook’s eyes are weirdly focused on your tits. He’s been doing that a lot lately, losing his mind by just staring at your tits. On some occasions he puts them in his mouth, gets possessed by some titty loving monster and sucks on them until you’re trembling. It’s fine because it’s quite frankly a huge ego boost, but something him now makes you want to pick at him for it.
“They’re yours to taste, angel,” you hum, slowly rolling your hips over his fat cock. Jungkook whimpers, softly ruts up into your heat the next time you press down. “Tell me what you want,” you exhale, a breathy moan.
He doesn’t say anything, just drops his mouth open for you with a trembling lower lip. Tongue peeks out, eyes glazed over in his lust, looking every bit like those hentai ads he hates so much. But you fulfill his wishes, help him sit up until he’s flush against your chest. His awkwardly bound hands get squished in the middle, and he says, “m-my hands...”
“I’ve got you,” you soothe, undo his self-made restraints and toss them to the side. Immediately, he’s wrapping his arms around you, pulling you flush against him to latch his lips around your breasts. “S-Slow down,” you whine, hands on his biceps as he sucks your tit into his mouth, twirls his tongue around your nipple. He’s good with his tongue even when he’s sick.
He pulls off with a pop, ragged breathing only making you more sensitive as it fans over the thin layer of saliva he leaves on your tits. “Tastes like strawberries,” he groans wondrously, head against your chest. You use the lull to get back to fucking yourself on him, but Jungkook’s got other plans. He rolls the two of you over, pins you beneath him with his hot and sweaty body. “I’m sorry,” he moans as he begins jackhammering his thrusts into you.
Your back arches, legs thrown around his waist as the sudden change of events. “Fffuck,” you heave, “harder, angel— gotta fuck like you mean it.”
Jungkook shudders, hands looped around the small of your back. His cock rams into you over and over, each glide of it against the walls of your pussy making you unravel in his arms. His lips latch around your other boob, suck and suck like he’s expecting something to come out.
That’s when it hits you.
“N-Nothing there,” you tell him, arms wrapped around his shoulders. His lashes are wet, eyes pinching tighter at your reminder. He pulls away almost to protest, but then you’re guiding him up to your face, hot breath mingling with yours. “Nothing there because you haven’t given me a baby yet,” you murmur darkly, watch the emotions flood his features as you tap into that taboo kink of his.
He chokes, grinds his cock into you and holds it there. “I-I didn’t,” he sniffs, “we never— you never said,” he whines, “...you wanted one.”
You cup his face in his hands, feel slightly mean for the pride you get from his tear stricken appearance. “I do,” you purr, lazily kissing him. “Want one if it’s from you. Don’t you?” He nods like an antsy puppy, quivering against you as he slowly and shallowly ruts into you. “Don’t you wanna see me like that, angel?” you egg on, hands looping behind his neck, idly playing with stray waves and curls. “Tummy so big and swollen because you did something bad, because you couldn’t pull out.”
Jungkook sobs, pulls you impossibly closer until the head of his cock is missing your cervix repeatedly. One of your legs is pressed nearly to your chest, hip tight from the force in which he holds you. “I-I want,” he agrees, more tears spilling down his cheeks.
You smirk evilly, kissing the corner of his mouth gently as he slowly picks up the pace of his thrusts. “Then fuck me hard, Jungkookie,” you demand, “fuck me full of your cum.”
Jungkook nods with a sniffle against your shoulder, fingers tightening against your skin as he slowly but surely begins nailing you into the mattress. He’s a good boy, always, because he does exactly what you tell him to. Uses those bulky muscles to hold you down, makes it impossible for you to move as he pistons his hips, cock sheathing itself inside your cunt.
Every drag makes you unconsciously clench, the raw feeling consuming your thoughts. His cock is so big and wet today, certainly due to that stupid lube from beneath his cabinet. Your entire pussy feels like it’s on ecstasy, stupidly geeked up by that lube, and you’re sure Jungkook’s cock feels the same. It makes the glide so much better, so much easier, each ram of his cock feeling so easy. “Oh, fuck,” you whimper, nails digging down his spine. Jungkook is a sobbing, sniffling mess against the crook of your neck, absolute gibberish falling from his lips.
But you’re no better, tongue seemingly set on a chaotic rampage to validate every single one of his fantasies. “Gonna fuck me while I’m pregnant?” you pant against his ear, fingers tugging at his hair. He doesn’t offer more than a strained cry, thrusts momentarily falling out of rhythm. “You would like that, huh? Fucking me when you’re not supposed to. You’re so bad, Kook-ah,” you gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head. “Only pretend to be an angel but really you’re just a dirty, little pervert.”
He wails loudly, slams his hips so hard into you that it makes you sob as well. “N-No,” he blubbers, tears against your skin. “I’m good— I’m a good boy,” he stresses, fingers bruising their prints into your skin.
He presses so close, cock practically making your stomach bulge, but neither of you see. “Dirty angel,” you spit, yank his hair back roughly until he’s forced to look at you with that watery gaze. “So horny you’re willing to get me pregnant.”
Jungkook cries out, snaps his cock into you like he’s trying to break you in half. “No,” he heaves, tears dripping down his cheeks and onto yours. “I-I-I’d do it right,” he defends weakly, hips losing their demonic pace as his orgasm sneaks up on him. “Ma— Marry first… then, b— ba— bab—“
You swallow his words with your lips, kiss him like you’re on the verge of death in a desperate attempt to hide your tears from him. They paint your cheeks in stark strokes, trail down your skin and make everything blurry, but so does your orgasm.
You come first, heart and body trembling at his unexpectedly sweet words, as you become a whimpering, teary mess beneath him. Jungkook follows, cries out your name one last time as he busts inside of you.
Sticky and gross, he falls onto the pillow beside you. Poor baby is so tired, curls covering half of his face, but lips cutely puckered against the pillow. He’s sweaty as hell though, which you now vaguely remember was your original goal with all of this so you count this as a success.
You think he’s fallen asleep, sitting up slowly and reaching for that t-shirt that bound him together earlier to clean up. He shudders when you run it against his skin, obviously still overwhelmed. You shift around the bed in search of today’s MVP. “Where’s the lube?” you mutter to yourself.
Jungkook groans. “YouTube?” he asks, voice dry as all hell.
“No, honey, the lube we used,” you respond, running your hands over the sheets for any signs of the pink bottle.
“Want YouTube,” he mumbles, lets you swaddle him up in the blanket again. You roll your eyes and reach for the forgotten iPad that had long since tumbled to the floor. When it turns on, that same video from before is on pause so you don’t bother changing it as you hand it back to Jungkook. “Nice,” he murmurs, “underground water slide.”
You snort. “Weirdo.” He glares cutely, eyes barely open at this point. “Watch your YouTube.”
“Use your lube,” he sasses back softly, nonsensically, and then rather anticlimactically passes out.
There’s something soft in your chest, something so big and overwhelming, that has you bending over his sleeping figure, mouth brushing against his. “Hurry and get better, angel,” you whisper, wish on it with all your heart.
To no one’s surprise, you get sick two days later. Doyeon laughs and laughs for hours about it, tells you that’s what you get for using sex as medicine. But Jungkook’s back to normal, which means he stays over and coddles you to death.
“Hurry and get better,” he says, spoon feeding you your famous Get Better Soon Soup that you passed on to him. “I have a question to ask you.”
There’s a little black box in his downstairs bathroom cabinet that you swear you’ve never seen, but Jungkook knows you’re lying.
It fits perfectly.
epilogue
She scoffs. “And I care why?” You huff, go to scold her for their weird rivalry, but then she’s moving on. “Babe, just give him some pain relief and call it a day.”
“Fine,” you mumble. “Wait, can you look something else up for me?”
Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.
#bangtanhq#networkbangtan#goldenclosetnet#jungkook smut#jeon jungkook smut#jjk smut#jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook#jjk♡#jungkook x reader smut#bts smut#mine
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001 franmaya?
it is time. i have my computer. let's do this.
When I started shipping it, if I did: I would love to say that I have been a franmaya shipper from day 1. I really would. But, honestly, in game, there isn't much there. I do absolutely eat up all of their in-game interactions, but I didn't see the potential of them as a ship until I joined Tumblr (~sept. 2021) and was delightedly enlightened.
My thoughts: Y'all know I could talk about franmaya all day and all night if I could. I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again. The parallels. The potential chemistry. Capcom is foolish for not letting them at least end up as FRIENDS. Come one. Let us have this one.
What makes me happy about them: I think that Maya’s lightheartedness and Franziska’s professionalism compliment each other perfectly. I think that Franziska could do to lighten up a bit and Maya could do to buckle down a bit. I also think that post-AA3, Franziska has learned a lot to let people be themselves, and Maya is the perfect example of someone who is unabashedly themselves. It’s simply *chef’s kiss*.
What makes me sad about them: Oh babe. The poor girls are BAD at acknowledging their trauma. If they got together, they’d have to go through some serious therapy before they would be willing to be open with each other about everything. Maya is open with Phoenix about her stress and inner turmoil regarding becoming head of the Fey clan, but that little snippet is just the tip of the iceberg. (Note: I haven’t played SOJ yet so perhaps she acknowledges it in the future? Knowing Capcom, probs not). And god knows Franziska would rather be caught dead than admit she needs help handling her feelings. It would be a very emotionally closed off relationship if they didn’t get help.
Things done in fanfic that annoys me: I haven’t read a ton of franmaya fics (just cause I haven’t been able to find a ton of them, but thank you to everyone who has sent me them in the past!) but in general, I hate it when Maya is portrayed as stupid or naïve. That girl has seen some shit. She worked closely with a lawyer for a number of years. It’s incredibly unrealistic and frustrating for Maya to be a stupid girl. Come on now.
Things I look for in fanfic: God, I’m a sucker for soft feelings-confessions fics. I love it when Franziska is forced to face the music and buckle down to admit some feelings. I love it when Maya giggles and gives Franziska her first kiss. IT’S ALL SO GOOD. I read this one fic where Maya helps Franziska dye her hair over the years (whichever one of you mutuals who sent it to me should link it below) but by god it was the perfect franmaya fic.
Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: I’ve seen some Franziska+Ema ship stuff out there, and while I don’t actively ship them, I’m certainly not against it. As I type this, maybe I think Maya+Ema wouldn’t be a bad pairing either? So, Ema gets two girlfriends. Three if you count Kay.
My happily ever after for them: Franziska takes a job as the head of Interpol and Maya leaves the Fey cult clan and they get to travel around together and spoil Pearls and Trucy and spill tea about all their friends. And also make fun of Edgeworth. Obviously. I am such a “franmaya lesbian aunts who induce the gift rapture on holidays” truther and I’ll say it until the day I die.
Who is the big spoon/little spoon: They switch. They both like to be the big spoon and then pout when they’ve been big-spooning for too long. Truthfully, their favorite cuddling position is Maya snuggled up to Franziska’s side with Franziska’s arm slumped over Maya. You know the one.
What is their favorite non-sexual activity: Fighting. Maya goes and does research of some really weird and niche conspiracy theory, learning everything there is to know about said conspiracy theory, crafts perfectly airtight arguments about these nonsense subjects, and then pops into Franziska’s office like “hey babe. did you know we’re actually living at the center of the Earth encased a technological troposphere with false climate control and day/night cycles.” Franziska, despite her best efforts and her numerous years picking apart arguments, never stands a chance.
THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU for asking! Send me more, people!
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Not Enough - Oikawa (Haikyuu) x Reader x Gojo (JJK)
Summary: Your relationship with Oikawa feels more like a curse than anything else as it comes to a close. (~4.2k words) or tl;dr gojo is mr. steal your girl
Warnings: breakup, idk Gojo is a warning, cracky angst?, pegging mention, yandere themes
A/N: Ngl I’m patting myself on the back for making a crossover fic work somewhat LOLLLL, you can roll your eyes if you want this is hella melodramatic.
(if you wanna commission more niche things, you can always dm me <3)
---
“I-I think it’s best for us to end things here, Tooru...”
Oikawa’s fingers tightened around the cell phone in his hand at the sound of your shakily delivered proposition, and further at the abrupt pregnant pause thereafter - not because he was angry, nor afraid, but out of an all-encompassing confusion.
Two things were wrong with this situation. First of all, it was late enough for you, thousands of miles away, that he was genuinely surprised that you were still awake in the first place and the fact that your voice was thick with tears was particularly upsetting, implying that you’d been up all night before you decided to call. Second, you had to be feeling unwell because you were talking pure nonsense.
He must have not heard correctly. You wanted to ‘end things’?
End what? You and him? That couldn’t possibly happen.
Moments passed, maybe even a full minute, and Oikawa stood perfectly still in spite of the uncomfortable combination of a weightless sensation in his legs and a feverish pounding in his chest as he tried to let himself understand what you were saying. Suddenly lightheaded, he realized he had been holding his breath while you remained quiet on the other end of the line. Maybe he was hoping for you to fill the silence, but he knew you wouldn’t offer anything additional; he could tell from the single soft sniffle that betrayed your sadness.
He sucked air into his lungs.
“I... don’t know what you mean,” Oikawa replied, his voice steady even if his body wasn’t.
You continued.
“I don’t think I can do this anymore. It’s really hard… and I get so lonely, and I know it’s wrong, but sometimes it hurts to see you so happy without me…”
Your voice was smaller still, enough that he strained to hear you past the rush of blood past his temples. For a moment, he considered pretending he couldn’t hear you say such unpleasant things just so that he wouldn’t have to deal with the reality unfolding in front of him in this disdainfully sunny early afternoon, while he stood in the middle of the hallway right outside of his high rise apartment.
The fact that you had finally given up on him after all this time.
In a small way, Oikawa couldn’t blame you. While he had been gone chasing his dream, the emerging star had just as quickly been running further away from you day by day. He knew this was mostly his fault: he called you less frequently and whenever you did talk, the conversations were shorter and less substantial until you and he both felt like your interactions were a simple chore, a checkbox on his never-ending to-do list.
But yet, he could and would absolutely blame you. Long distance was hard but you had promised you’d stay by his side, hadn’t you? You’d promised him, rain or shine, through drought and storm. What could possibly be the issue now?
Even if you hurt, it would only be temporary, and he could always make up for it in full or even twice-fold. In fact, he was on his way to come see you in person this very second; it would just be mere hours before his flight would depart. Coming suddenly on holiday like this was meant to be a surprise, and his suitcase beside him was filled with gifts and souvenirs for you that would, at least partially, assuage your hurt.
At least he thought. Maybe the issue stemmed deeper, starting with the very fact that you weren’t such a fan of gifts - what you really craved was loyalty and quality time - and that too, he had chosen to ignore. Because it was easier to love you the way he wanted to love you, rather than the way you wanted to be loved.
You were often indecisive anyway. Did you ever truly know what you wanted?
“___, stop being silly. I love you -”, he paused at this last declaration for emphasis, gauging your reaction, of which you gave him none, then continued, “-and I’m coming to see you before the sun sets tomorrow,” he insisted, a stern edge in his voice to further supplant the denial that was keeping him able to breathe. Strength returning to his limbs, he resumed his path to the elevators, dragging his belongings behind him.
You were silly. You missed him and you were delirious from loneliness and sleep, and that’s why ridiculous things were coming out of your mouth, that’s all it had to be, he figured. End things? What you had was something precious and irreplaceable. Nothing could be better than what you were together.
It would be you and him for life, at least to him.
Unfortunately for you, that ideal had long since perished.
Any other time, you would have paused, your breath hitching in your throat, your heart pounding as you conjured up the image of your Tooru coming to be in your arms once more, to cross the vast distance and be yours again as it should be. He’d be quick to show you that he chose you over crowded gyms full of adoring spectators, a perfect set, the rush of victory, or a pretty Instagram model.
Any other time before, but time had run out with both you and him unsuspecting, in a flash of clear blue eyes.
---
A few months earlier...
“I’m not interested.”
Your voice was flat and so was your expression. Muttering a soft ‘excuse me’, you walked past the tall young man who had taken the fact that he’d helped you reach an item on the highest shelf (despite the fact that you were still somewhat tall, you still had struggled), as an invitation to follow you around the grocery store.
The stranger had started off indiscreetly at first, and you had to admit, when you’d passed him in the aisle, you had given him a double-take, and it wasn’t just because you were wondering how he could see the food before him with a black blindfold wrapped over his eyes, so you hadn’t thought too much of it. He was admittedly handsome - at least the lower part of his face was - and his relaxed voice and posture as he reached over and handed you your box of cereal reminded you just a smidge of your Tooru.
Your Tooru wouldn’t be caught in that nondescript dark ensemble, though.
Saying “thanks” and continuing on your merry way should have been enough. But instead, this same man had immediately started walking besides you as you pushed your cart as though he knew you, making comments about your groceries.
“I’m not particularly fond of eggs, but they’re a good source of protein.”
“You seem to have a sweet tooth, just like me!”
You probably should have been concerned about this man’s mental state, but he didn’t exactly seem harmful or delusional, just weird. But you were almost done with your shopping trip, and now he was in line with you with a single bag of chips in his hand, and it occurred to you for a while that this stranger might try to follow you home.
“Do you need something, sir?” You told him in exasperation.
He furrowed his eyebrows in mild confusion, still a smidge too close behind you and raised his bag of chips. “No, I’m fine.”
“Why are you following me?” You finally said, bolder than usual in this semi-crowded grocery store. You had had enough of being polite and you’d tried very hard so far. Today had been a long day and you just wanted to cook a meal and sleep, not argue with strangers.
“Oh, I was trying to be friendly,” he replied, shrugging, as though that were normal behavior, and thus here you were, switching lanes abruptly while making it clear to him that he needed to leave you the fuck alone.
Checking out of the store with your items occurred without incident but you had to admit you were both irritated and confused about that encounter, and again, while you didn’t exactly feel malicious intent or really any sort of ‘creepiness’ from the young man, the behavior was nevertheless alarming. You surreptitiously glanced over your shoulder just to make sure he wasn’t still in sight, only to catch him walking in the other direction, whistling again with the single bag of chips in his hand, now paid for.
Again stunned, you found yourself lost in a stare for a moment, a million questions in your head.
What was he trying to accomplish? And most importantly, how could he see with that blindfold?
What did he look like without it?
Quickly realizing your questions were getting absurd, you decided that whether he was attractive or not was a completely inconsequential thought, because the fact of the matter was that he had to be clinically insane. Absolutely.
With that thought in mind, you texted a friend briefly sparing the least salient details.
Call me in about thirty minutes if I don’t call you first. I’ll fill you in later.
Just for safety’s sake, but thankfully, you didn’t think you’d ever seen him again.
You may have brought up your odd encounter to Tooru that night, if he had managed to return your call.
---
“Go to sleep, I’ll talk to you when I land tomorrow. I love you, ____.”
Before you could protest, the line cut off abruptly and you lowered your phone to your lap. Now it was no longer just your voice wavering, but your entire body trembling as you sat over the side of your bed. You lurched forward, the pit of your stomach heavy with guilt.
Your Tooru was coming to see you and for once, he was the last person you wanted to see.
---
You had left your home a little later than usual but given that you would rather die than miss your morning coffee and croissant, you still stopped by your neighborhood bakery.
Noting that the line was a little longer than expected, you queued up, humming softly to the beats of your favorite song, not registering that the man standing before you had turned slowly in your direction and was now smiling down at you.
“Fancy seeing you here again.”
Your eyes furrowed as you looked up, then almost yelped in surprise when your eyes registered the same white-haired stranger who had stunned you at the supermarket lined up just two paces before you.
What the-
Of all the coffee shops in this city, why here? The hairs on your neck stood up on end, worse when he decided to keep speaking.
“Let me buy your coffee,” he proposed, tentatively. “Only condition is that you have to drink it with me.”
Today, the strangest of strangers almost looked normal; rather than a blindfold, his eyes were hidden by a dark pair of sunglasses and his hair had been allowed to fall into a slightly windswept cut. He was also dressed less eclectically, in a loose-necked long sleeved shirt and a pair of fitted dark jeans.
Like this, you could call him fashionable. He was definitely forward, at the very least.
He was obviously flirting and normally you would have a curt prepared answer for him, but the manner in which he leaned forward, smirking with hands on his hips, again felt too familiar. Like Tooru, who had forgotten to call you back and instead sent you a quick text that promised he’d get back to you.
If he remembered.
Before you knew it, and almost embarrassed as soon as it left your mouth, you blurted out, “I… have to go to work.”
It wasn’t a lie but for some reason it came out like one. Perhaps because what you would have normally said was, “I have a boyfriend,” without giving him a second look.
He frowned nevertheless.
“That’s too bad,” he finally said, letting out a loud sigh, excessively dramatic for the situation. You stared at him, dumbfounded, and he suddenly clasped his hands together, preparing to say something else but the barista had called for the next customer.
He made a motion for you to go before him, and flustered, you obliged, giving the barista a look that implored for help in any way he could offer it. The barista knew you well enough to ring up your order before you even asked for it, but not well enough to sense that the man behind you was actively harassing you.
“I can buy my own coffee, sir,” you murmured once you saw him rummage in his pockets and pull out his wallet while the barista went off to toast your pastry.
He grinned widely.
“Call me Satoru.”
---
“A drink for you, sir?”
The flight attendant’s voice betrayed a hint of irritation under her sweet tone of voice, hinting that she had been waiting for him to answer a while, and Oikawa realized that he had been staring at his phone for a lot longer than he expected. He flashed her his classic pearly whites before nodding, but the wheels in his head were still turning.
A mere couple of hours into the first leg of his flight back to Japan, he had taken to poring over his last few conversations with you.
Conversations that, at least from his end, had become pressured, short, and at times, he had been downright dismissive.
But he loved you - you had to understand that! It was a lot to manage: being available for you but also giving 150% of himself to the game.
So what if he missed your calls but kept his Instagram up-to-date? So what if he was a little bit too cozy with his fans (and known to be so)?
There was always you, and you were supreme. He’d do anything for you.
“Wine?” The attendant offered him the higher octave in her voice making it clear that Oikawa had managed to charm her back into her retail persona.
Maybe a glass, but he’d limit his drinking. He wouldn’t want to disappoint you when you met.
---
You were shocked.
Satoru stopped a car that was meant to crush you, and you were still trying desperately to comprehend what had just transpired.
You were possibly too eager to escape that coffee shop, to get away from the young man whose presence both unsettled your stomach and made your face grown warm, that you’d hurried out into the crosswalk, somewhat complicated drink and slightly crisped pastry in hand, and right into the path of a car hurtling through a red light.
You didn’t have time to scream or rarely even time to drop your drink, but the impact of your carelessness and preoccupation, between him, being late to work, wondering why the fuck your boyfriend had yet again forgotten to text back, never came.
Instead, the car seemed to halt to a stop almost immediately before you, before him who now stood before you with lips held into a neutral expression, and one hand in his pocket. Even if time seemed to stop for a split second, the force that should have struck your body didn’t, instead hurtling around you in a terrifying gust of wind.
But you were safe.
There was a shatter of glass windows as energy redistributed and the car took the brunt of the shock, and airbags deployed, engulfing the driver who could have possibly ended your life.
When Satoru finally turned to you slowly, looking at your cowering form, you finally caught a glimpse of piercing blue. For once he wasn’t smiling, and he was suddenly much more terrifying than anything else.
As though the mask had come off.
He didn’t ask if you were okay. Instead, he asked you to control your grief.
---
You shouldn’t be able to love anyone so much that your heart breaks repeatedly.
Something about you had to be pathological - it couldn’t be normal to feel the pain of separation this acutely. It was just a long-distance relationship, even if he was just getting more famous and less available by the day.
You shouldn’t wake up wondering if you could still breathe without him.
You shouldn’t.
---
“I’m a sorcerer,” Gojo revealed as he stirred a warm caramel latte, as though he had said the most natural thing in the world.
You tilted your head over so slightly, knit eyebrows betraying your confusion.
“... Like a circus performer?”
The repetitive turn of his wrist halted almost immediately and he looked at you, the constant smug smirk immediately awash from his features.
“Do I look like I belong in the circus?!” He half-exclaimed, half-whined, as though you were the only patrons in this bustling coffee shop. Part of you was bent on saying yes, but you kept mum yet staring at his face in distress, you find yourself stifling a giggle.
Now that he’d saved your life, you felt (and probably erroneously so) obligated to at least indulge him in coffee, and your curiosity about the young man sitting before you a whole day later now waffled between morbid and genuine.
Cursed energy? Leaking from you? Sorcery?
He cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair once he realized you were more entertained by his distress than anything else, crossing his arms and raising his legs on the table. You stared at the bottom of his shoes with mild disgust but instead focused on his face.
He really was like your Tooru, the boyfriend that slipped away from your reach in your nightmares, causing you to wake in a cold sweat. You shook the thought of your head, a quick barely perceptible movement, and crossed your own arms.
“You’re sad enough that I can sense it, which despite the fact that I am obviously quite gifted, can be a bit of an issue long term.”
“Why would it be an issue to you?”
“Because grief creates spirits and spirits are a pain in my ass.”
You furrowed your eyebrows again.
“So you followed me because you thought I was sad?” It sounded far fetched enough but absolutely on brand for a weirdo like the man before you. You took a sip of your tea - you’d picked chai for this… meeting. It wasn’t a date.
He grinned, an elbow rested on the table propping up his chin as he leaned back towards you.
“No, it’s because I thought you were beautiful.”
---
For the first time in a year, Oikawa’s first step back on Japanese soil did not immediately bring him joy but anxiety.
It was odd for him to feel anxiety, this unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach, but of course it would dissipate the moment he saw you.
But first, a warm shower in his new hotel room. Then he’d go to see you.
It felt odd not to have you waiting for him, your million dollar - no, priceless - smile on your face, so he could kiss you dramatically in the midst of all watching to again reassert that you are his, and his alone.
But you were upset, and understandably so.
So he would come to you, as a good boyfriend should.
---
“I have a boyfriend,” you told him immediately and indignantly, as you got up to leave. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you I’m not interested.”
He didn’t rise as fast as you did, watching you calmly instead as you balled your fists in irritation. It’s so shameless how he flirts, you thought. He’s so bold and rude and even if he’s a ‘sorcerer’ as he claims, there’s no spell that he can cast onto you that will make you leave Oikawa for him.
Not your Tooru, whose last Instagram post features a beautiful, tan, large-breasted and bikini-clad woman you’ve never met.
“Where is he then?” Satoru said in a low voice. He didn’t necessarily mean to cut but it did anyway. A lump formed in your throat.
“Overseas.”
---
The sound of chirping crickets is surprisingly loud for this part of the city, Oikawa considered, as he made his way towards your apartment building. It was an atypically warm evening for this point in the spring and he briefly mused if that is what excited them. Maybe they were cheering for him. They sounded a lot like the crowds if he closed his eyes.
He also hoped you had room for the gifts he carried with him, the most important of which was a Cartier bracelet he would hand to you once he departed, with a solid gold T for Tooru.
If he was on the search for fame and glory, he had to spoil you too, right?
To think that you were so angry with him that you had not yet contacted him since he had landed.
He knocked on your door finally, noting the shuffling of too many feet towards the door. This was the right door. He didn’t understand. Did you have friends over?
He called, and you didn’t immediately pick up.
---
“You have to leave!” You hissed. The statement was a plea and it was a command and it was a curse.
The blue of Satoru’s eyes was less electric in the dim moonlight, now more of a cool ice. Bare naked like this and barely visible save for the cracks of the illuminated city through your blinds, he was unfairly beautiful, as though he were carved out of marble. Again like your Tooru. Like, not better.
But still, he was there when Tooru wasn’t.
But Tooru was there now, knocking on your door, having traveled thousands of miles despite the fact that you had broken up with him just yesterday.
It was too little, too late.
But you didn’t love Satoru. He was just a band-aid for the loneliness that wrung agony out of you.
Right?
“I don’t want to leave,” your makeshift lover replied, flatly.
Your glare was sharp and instant, but Satoru matched your look, less pointed but unwilling to sway.
An unstoppable force, no different from the day he’d saved your life.
But he’d caused the problem in the first place, hadn’t he? Would you have run out so carelessly if not for him?
Your voice softened as you slipped on your clothes. The fight was lost before it started.
“Please? I… I can’t do this to him.”
Only a plea was left.
Your phone started to ring and your throat felt as though it would close up.
“___?”
Before you knew it, you heard your front door open and your heart dropped into your throat.
---
“What the fuck-”
Blue eyes were cruel.
Oikawa prided himself on his height but Satoru was taller, and his smirk was wide, while Oikawa’s face was ghostlike, devoid of any appreciable expression. Stunned.
“So you’re the boyfriend?” His voice dripped with mock amusement and he patted him on the shoulder before swinging open the door wide, letting Oikawa into his own girlfriend’s apartment, only to stand face to face with you whose feet seemed glued to the floor in shock.
“I.. T-Tooru..”
“Are you fucking serious?!”
His voice came out as a cry and his tears hot and fast. You never thought you’d see him crumple so fast, for you, for anything.
Your mouth opened and closed, and your hands shook but again, you stayed planted to the same spot while Satoru, still shirtless (but at least with the decency to have worn a pair of pants before answering the door), settled himself on the couch.
Before you could open your mouth to find a word to defend yourself to your sobbing boyfriend, your visitor let out an exaggerated yelp.
“____, you really showed no mercy on my asshole, did you?” he jeered. Then covering his mouth, he made a gesture of ‘Oops.’
What could you do?
Oikawa looked like he would stop breathing any second. He wanted to fight and maybe scream, but what use was that?
You had broken up with him yesterday.
You approached slowly, attempting maybe a touch, anything that would make your mistake less grievous.
You’d only been seeing Satoru for several weeks to… you weren’t sure why, really? Tooru was the one you loved. And to see him curl up like this… someone who was normally so proud...
You were disgusted with yourself.
“Tooru-”
“You said you’d wait for me.”
It was shocking how quick he rose, broken dignity, gifts and all.
“Tooru!”
He turned to leave, while Satoru contented himself on picking the earwax from his ears. It was easier to be like this, insufferable, than to gracefully accept the idea that his object of affection loved someone else.
He’d coveted you from the day he’d met you.
“Tooru!!!”
You were running after a man who gave 150% to everything, yet again.
Everything but you.
But had he at the very least given you 100%? You weren’t sure.
Oikawa was the last person who could accept the thought of someone else. You weren’t sure if he’d call you ever again. You weren’t even sure you wanted to break up.
Cursed energy. Maybe you didn’t just leak cursed energy. Maybe you were just cursed.
Heart shattering to pieces once Oikawa was no longer within view, you made it back to your room. Satoru was there waiting, and you couldn’t see the look in his eyes, but his arms were open, and so you fell into them.
#oikawa x reader#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#oikawa tooru x reader#commission work#crossover fic#haikyuu x reader#jjk x reader#haikyuu x jjk#mae.writing
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I spent a month reading harry potter fanfics and here’s what I learned
So for the past three and a half weeks, I’ve been doing basically nothing but reading Harry Potter fanfics and now I kind of just want to talk about them. No one cares but future me will! I tend to get caught in obsessions fairly easily (for instance, two months ago was comic books and last month was video editing and then k dramas). I’m feeling like my Harry Potter obsession is fading which makes me really sad cause it was a fun ride. I went from Drarry to Hinny, time travel to alternate realities, obscuris Harry to Dark!Harry, MCU AUs to Doctor Who AUs. I must’ve read more than 50 fics.
I’ve learned that I hate Dumbledore
Snape makes for a great mentor but I will only like him with proper character development
also where did Snape being Draco’s godfather come from? I don’t think this was in the books? I’m not angry, just confused
I read a fic that was so sad that I was physically unable to finish reading it -- actually I read two of those, one of them was a DID fic and the other Voldemort adopted Harry
the Voldemort one is quite possibly the most tragic thing I have ever read and even though it’s been two weeks I still haven’t been able to recover -- I was only halfway finished too GOOD LORD
another fic I read that was so fucking depressing was a time loop situation where Harry literally couldn’t get out of and it ended tragically
obscuris Harry is interesting but I really only like the ones where Newt is actually involved but I couldn’t find any finished ones
I don’t like it when Harry’s appearance changes, it throws me for a loop
there was this one where Harry got sent back in time and his figure got disfigured and so he didn’t even appear like himself anymore
I just find it odd for Harry Potter not to look like Harry Potter, idk
I also have a headcanon that his hair is very curly rather than shaggy
I haven’t been able to find a fic where Harry goes back in time to the Marauders era and has the right amount of angst but the right amount of fluff
I’ve read some good ones where the Marauders travel to Harry’s time but like,,, it isn’t quite what I’m looking for? I’m gonna have to write it, aren’t I?
this doesn’t happen with irondad fics, literally everything you’ve ever wanted you can find it there
I read one where Harry did go back in time but she (fem!Harry) didn’t really interact with her parents or the Marauders that much, she became friends with Regulus instead
Regulus should’ve been in Gryffindor
I’ve not only read fics where Draco has been a Ravenclaw, Slytherin, but also a Gryffindor. I haven’t found one where he’s in Hufflepuff
I’ve read fics where Harry’s in every single house - the Ravenclaw one might be my favorite so far, it had to do with him going to a different timeline where there’s another Harry and he’s a major dick
Hufflepuff Harry one was funny, but it got distressing cause Dumbledore didn’t trust him and tried to get him expelled
actually the Hufflepuff one made my heart hurt cause Harry was put in the body of a Harry who isn’t the boy who lived and barely spoke and was basically like an even more traumatized Neville
Slytherin Harry is everything to me and he should’ve been in Slytherin
Ravenclaw Draco is something that can be so personal
I’m tired of reading Year One fics, I get it, there’s a stone, let’s move on
Year Four fics are my favorite however, there was one (which is my favorite) where Harry’s a necromancer and in the graveyard scene he calls corpses from the graves alive to help him get out of there it was so cool
I am partial to Harry/Draco but Harry/Luna is cute
there was a Pokemon Harry/Luna one that’s adorable and I’ve read it twice already
I like when there’s a ton of lore involved
especially Hogwarts lessons - like ancient runes can fucking get it, I love runes fics
there was an MCU AU one where I read Harry didn’t have his magic anymore, not as potent as it was, but he did have ancient runes
LISTEN I tried to get into Dark!Harry but after that Voldemort adoption one I can’t do it anymore, I will start crying literally right now -- he just wants to be fucking useful! He just wants to be loved! Is that too much to fucking ask for?
however Harry doing dark!magic but isn’t actually on the dark side is cool
Death Eater Spy Draco! It makes me distressed but also I am so here for it!
Jenkins if you’re out there I love you (if you get this reference I love you)
I read a ton of Avengers adopt Harry when he’s younger but I don’t care for younger Harry fics, I prefer when he’s a teenager and I don’t have to read the first few years at Hogwarts, it can get repetitive
Give me all the angst with Harry being a horcrux please, I’m living for the drama
Lily is not a fan favorite weirdly enough, when the Marauders are in fics she’s usually not there which is unfortunate because I just really want a good Harry/Lily bonding moment
one of the saddest fics I read was where harry, luna, hermione and neville find themselves in an alternate dimension where Lily and Remus are married and alive, James is a dick but has other kids, and every single person that had died in their world is alive
I don’t like it when there’s Ron bashing, he’s one of my favorites, but if I have to, I’ll read some of them
there was this Sherlock fic (listen, I went in fucking deep, it’s been a weird month) where fem!Harry is on the run from the Ministry because I don’t actually understand and Ron and everyone is out for blood for her
Eleventh Doctor/Harry is a pairing I was not aware of but I actually kind of love?
Master of Death Harry is fucking OP and I love him for that
mcu aus is something I never knew I needed
Holly Potter and the Midlife Crisis is fucking everything
So is On Punching Gods and Absentee Dads, I realized it was the same author when I read in the author notes that the author was going to some volcano convention thing and I was like this is way too niche for it to be a coincidence
I’ve read Tony is Harry’s dad, Loki is Harry’s dad, Harry is just weird friends with Thor, ones where Natasha is Harry’s aunt
listen everyone is related to this boy
I will not read a fic if it doesn’t involve Harry, he’s my boy, he’s my love, I care only about him and him only I’m so sorry
you know that meme where people say nobody’s favorite character is harry potter, the titular character? Well meet me! He’s my favorite!
in battle of hogwarts fics, Remus almost always dies. Why is that? Why do you guys hate him so much? It’s always half and half for Fred, I never know if he’s going to live or not
In all of the good fics I’ve read I saw in the collections area of ao3 the same collection and I was like! You get me!
if it says Gammily’s Bookshelf on the fic, it’s gonna be a really fucking great fic let me just tell you that right now
Parseltongue gets me so riled up, I fucking love Parseltongue, it’s so cool
there’s a reason I usually filter out non/c*n but I decided to let it flow and I ran into a few that fucking d e s t r o y e d me why do you guys read shit like this, it broke my heart
that being said I read one that was really nuanced and actually really good but it’ll never be finished and I’m very mad about that
Either we have a better understanding of how goblins could be utilized than JKR or we’re just ignorant of how powerful they can be
weird coincidence that I’ve read two completely different fics where Harry thought having a threesome meant kissing three different people
Dumbledore’s a bitch and I hate him, every fic I��ve read so far agrees with me
there is a person out there that is CARRYING the bucky barnes/harry potter pairing on their back and I hope whoever that is knows how much I appreciate them
remind me never to click on a fic that hasn’t been updated since 2015 ever again, C’est La Vie I will miss you so
this is just a fucking quarter of the harry potter fics I’ve read but thanks for reading if you did, let me know if you want to know some of the titles
#harry potter#harry james potter#fanfiction#aus#alternate universe#reading#fics#fic recs#marauders#wolfstar#drarry#parseltongue#mcu#marvel cinematic universe#doctor who#my posts#ruth talks#rutherford's reviews#ao3#archive of our own#the marauders
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2021 Fanfic Meme
Tagged by @101flavoursofweird and @asa-liz, thank you!!
Word Count: 45346
Works on AO3: 9 new ones and 3 updated stories that were started last year
Pairings written for:
Clark/Brenda
Clive/Flora
Katrielle/Ernest (just if you squint)
Fandoms I wrote for:
Professor Layton
The Great Ace Attorney
Most popular story:
Seabird, a story about Clive being adopted by the Tritons has done surprisingly well considering it still only has three chapters!
Funniest:
Elixir of Rust has a few funny moments with Dahlia and the other robots in St. Mystere; I enjoyed making her react to the wackiness of St. Mystere with irritation (while not acknowledging that she’s pretty wacky herself fdjhkfd)
Story I’m most proud of:
I still really enjoy rereading Lighthouse, which is a Clora story set during Unwound Future. I like how I managed to make it canon-compliant(ish), but still make Clive and Flora’s bond stronger than it was in the game. I also like how I was able to include a lot of foreshadowing to Clive’s betrayal, while still showing that he has a lot of sympathy for Flora’s situation and really relates to her, as both of them are overlooked by the professor in favour of Luke.
Saddest:
I wrote most of Almost Lost a year and a half ago, so I’m not sure if it counts, but it is pretty dark and sad; I was Going Through It at the time I wrote it, so it makes me a bit sad to read it and think about that time.
Least popular:
Probably my weird crossover chapter of Puzzles Left Unsolved where Clive and Ashley Graydon from The Great Ace Attorney meet. It’s super niche though and it’s an unfinished plot idea, so I was expecting this.
Most Cringe-Worthy:
I’m trying not to think of any of my stories as Cringe anymore, but there’s a pretty second-hand embarrassing moment in Welcome Home where Clive and Flora have a Moment and are hugging and the professor walks in right at that moment dfjhkfddf...
Favorite Opening Line(s):
I like this opening section from Good Enough:
Dear Big Luke
To Clive Dove
Dear Clive
I can't get it right. I don't know what I'm supposed to call you. I've tried so many times to start this letter, and, well… I'm just going to write, and I guess that whatever I write, that's what I'm meant to say to you.
Favorite Closing Lines(s)
I like this abrupt/cold ending from Almost Lost:
They cling to each other, too terrified to let go, their sobbing drowned by the torrents of rain.
Top Scenes from Anywhere You Would Choose to Have Illustrated
Maybe Clive and Flora peeling potatoes together in Welcome Home dhkjfddf I liked having them talk and get emotional and teary-eyed over such a simple task. Any Clora moments from any of my stories would be wonderful though, or anything at all.
Story I haven’t yet written, but intend to:
A whole lot haha. But my first immediate plans are to write some stories for Clora Week coming up in January. I also have an AU where Clive loses his memory during Unwound Future that I’d like to work on turning into an actual fic. I also had an idea for a drabble collection where Flora interacts with each one of the St. Mystere villagers one-on-one that I’d like to start at some point.
Fic-writing goals for 2022:
I want to complete more stories or at least update them... I have so many started and I really need to fix that. I especially want to make more progress on Good Enough, since it’s my epic Clora story, haha. I would also like to be able to write some stories for other fandoms, including Rapunzel’s Tangled Adventure. It would also be cool if I could try varying my writing style a bit, like using past tense more often, or trying something from a first-person point of view.
Tagging @teaofdestiny, @dazais-guardian-angel, @northelypark and @gemstoneslesbian if any of you are interested!
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