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katsu28 · 9 months

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through the lens

pairing: jamie tartt x reader

summary: a richmond win, a trip to ola’s, and a camera is all it takes to find out how jamie tartt really feels about you

warnings: swearing ofc, reader is afc richmond's team photographer, 2.5k

a/n: humbly inviting begging anyone and everyone to drop ted lasso requests from this list or this one in my inbox <3 i write for jamie, roy, sam, dani, and isaac! now pls enjoy the result of my jamie tartt brainrot

The atmosphere in the locker room was positively electric.

AFC Richmond was fresh off their first win in a very long time, and everyone was beyond ecstatic, buzzing with residual adrenaline and pride on a game well played. All the players were in a huddle in the center of the room, jumping at each other with nothing but pure joy in their eyes.

All you could do was try your best to capture the moment without getting in the way of the festivities, which you somehow managed by climbing up onto one of the benches in front of the lockers as you snapped picture after picture of the team getting their celebration on. Nobody really paid you any mind throughout, until you turned your camera on one Jamie Tartt, who was already looking right at you the second your viewfinder focused on him.

He beamed, lifted his hand up in a small wave, and for a split second you thought he might’ve started to make his way over to you, but he was caught on the shoulder and redirected by an overjoyed Dani Rojas. You swiveled away from Jamie and towards where Colin and Isaac had started some sort of chant that you could barely make out over the ruckus.

Focusing on them gave you the chance to let your heart rate settle back down after sharing that split second moment with Jamie. It was pathetic, really—pining over someone like him.

More of a silly little crush than anything, you knew it would never lead to anything because you’d rather a sinkhole open up in the middle of the road and swallow you up than tell Jamie that you liked him. But that didn’t stop your feelings for him from growing. He’d come back to AFC Richmond someone different—sweet and empathetic and the biggest supporter of his fellow Greyhounds—which made it that much harder to keep your crush under wraps.

Hell, Keeley had figured it out within weeks of his return and accidentally let it slip to Roy. He’d very gruffly assured you that he hadn’t told a soul, but you were sure that the whole team knew about it by now. Everyone except Jamie. You’d never been so glad for his thick head.

“Alright, I know y’all are excited about the win, I am too but listen up!” Coach Lasso’s voice cut through the commotion, hands waving over his head to get his players’ attention. At the drop of a hat, every single one of them fell quiet, eagerly awaiting what their beloved coach had to say.

You were looking forward to it too, not only because a Lasso signature speech was always a great opportunity to get raw, unfiltered photos of the team, but because he always had something positive to say, no matter what the outcome on the pitch had been. The amount of love and care Ted Lasso had for his players was his strong suit, and it showed in everyone’s respect for him.

“I’m real proud of what all y’all did out there on the pitch tonight. I know I say that after every match and I mean it every time, but this one is just a little bit sweeter. I appreciate every single one of you boys more than you could imagine,” He continued, looking to address each person. They looked like kids again, giddy with glee as they soaked in their coach’s praise.

You took shot after shot of everyone in the moment, so enveloped in your craft that you didn’t notice someone had come to stand beside you until you let your camera hang. That was when you noticed Jamie, inching closer with an innocent look on his face until he saw you looking down at him.

“Hiya,” He said, playfully nudging your leg with a cheeky smile. “Gettin’ a good view up there?”

“Shouldn’t you be listening to your coach?” You shot back, fighting the urge to pick your camera back up and take a shot of his lopsided grin and stupidly endearing twinkle in his eye as he looked up at you.

“Nothin’ I haven’t heard before.” Jamie shrugged, but he turned back around to look at Ted.

Even though he wasn’t paying attention to you, it was hard not to pay attention to him. That was a problem you’d increasingly been running into, not being able to focus when Jamie was around. You thought you’d had it under wraps, but it seemed like you’d developed a sixth sense for whenever he wandered into your vicinity. And lately, that sense had been pinging a lot more than usual.

Maybe you were reading too much into things, but it seemed like Jamie had been popping up everywhere you went in the facility. Granted, it was mainly the pitch and the locker room hallways, but it flustered you all the same. One brief conversation about even something mundane like weekend plans or the weather paired with a smile and a cheeky wink before he disappeared around a corner and you were left wondering what you’d been doing in the first place.

Ted was closing out his speech by the time you’d remembered you were actually supposed to be doing your job right now. You jerked out of your thoughts, snapping a few photos of the coaching staff before he finished up for the night. “Now go ahead and let loose, golden goose!”

“I’m pretty sure it is geese, Coach,” Sam chimed in, giving him a good natured smile.

“You know what I mean! Go have some fun, celebrate, all that jazz. But not too much fun because I expect to be seein’ y’all bright and early tomorrow morning for practice. Remember, the early bird gets the worm! See, I know I did that one right.” With that, Ted waved the team off, retreating back into the coaches’ office with Coach Beard on his heels and leaving them with all their pent up energy.

“Sam says we’re all going to Ola’s to celebrate!” Bumbercatch exclaimed, drawing a roar of approval from the rest of the team.

“You comin’ with us?” Jamie asked you hopefully, tilting his head to the side a bit. Warmth bloomed on your cheeks at the prospect of him wanting you to tag along. “Catch the festivities, give the people what they want?”

Oh. He was asking because you were their photographer. Not for the other foolishly hopeful reason you were thinking of. Of course.

“Yeah, I’ll tag along. Gotta catch you boys in your natural habitat, don’t I?”

Jamie’s mouth lifted into a cool smirk. “‘Course you do. You can catch a ride with me, if you want.”

“Oh! Um, only if it’s not too much trouble.” You could only hope you didn’t sound as breathless as you felt.

He nodded, extending a hand up towards you to help you down from your perch. You accepted it maybe a bit too eagerly, because your step down from the bench put you a little closer to Jamie than you’d planned, barely a few inches between the two of you. You swore you almost stopped breathing when his chest brushed against yours as he inhaled a sharp breath. You forced yourself to meet his gaze, and it almost looked like he was as stunned as you.

You both mumbled an apology, words tumbling over each other messily as you stepped apart. His hand flew up to rub the back of his neck sheepishly. Yours went straight for your camera, busying yourself with a few random buttons as if it were a defense mechanism. Neither of you could look at the other for a good while, not until you got into Jamie’s car and were on the way to Ola’s to meet the rest of the team.

“So. What’d you think of the game?”

“S’good! You did great, Jamie,” You exclaimed, excited now. It was true, Jamie had been on fire tonight with a goal and two assists. “All of you did great.”

“Should I pose for ya next time? Give ya a proper action shot?“ He sounded only half joking. “M’trusting you to make me look good, y’know!”

“Posing is overrated. I like the shots I get when you lot get out there on the pitch. They’re natural.”

“But what if I make a stupid face when I pass the ball? Those can’t be any good.”

“They’re called candids, and I happen to think they look better than your promotional shots.”

“Bullshit! I looked sexy in those shots and you know it.”

While he wasn’t wrong, you had a point to prove now. Taking a deep breath, you counted to three in your head before picking your camera back up, swiveling in your seat and snapping one, two, three pictures of him.

Jamie’s brow furrowed at the shutter clicks, giving you a confused glance over in your direction. “Oi! What’s that for?”

“That’s a candid.” You said simply, ignoring your heart pounding a million miles a minute against your ribcage. You flicked through the photos, pleased to see that they’d come out just as you suspected—perfect.

“Not even getting my good angle, some photographer you are,” He muttered, giving his head an overexaggerated shake.

“All your angles are good, Jamie,” You scoffed. “And you don’t need me to make you look good, ‘cause you’re doing it just fine on your own.” You didn’t realize what you’d said until a beat later when he looked extremely delighted, but every part of what you said was true.

Even caught off guard and driving, Jamie Tartt looked unfairly good. The lights off the dashboard washed over his handsome face in a warm light, making him look softer than the harsh lights of Nelson Road did.

On the football pitch, he was tough and cocky, mouthing off to opposing team with the sole purpose of getting under their skin, and the lighting reflected that. He was Jamie Tartt, a striker with a right foot kissed by God, one of the greatest footballers in Richmond history. In this car, here with just the two of you, he was at ease. His guard was down, his facade gone. He was just Jamie Tartt, a boy from Manchester. That was the Jamie you’d grown some not-so-small feelings for.

Ola’s was definitely quieter than any pub in Richmond would’ve been, though you suspected that the team rather enjoyed it this way. They loved and appreciated their fans, but it was nice to be surrounded by friends as opposed to being gawked at the whole night. Even so, someone had turned on music with a heavy beat that thumped through the restaurant and everyone was having a good time.

It was the perfect opportunity to grab a few more quick shots of the team and you took it gratefully, milling around the place for a bit snapping pictures here and there before coming back to your seat to flick through everything. You had to see what you could give the PR team to put on Richmond’s socials.

A pint of beer slid in front of you drew you away from your camera, but it was mostly the smiling Jamie who’d slid into the chair next to you. He leaned in a little closer to be heard over the chatter of the restaurant, bracing his arm on the back of your chair.

“D’you ever stop working?”

“Meaning?”

“Nothin’ bad! I just mean…every time I see ya you’re nose deep in that camera, barely get t’see your face.”

“The point of my job is to see your face, not mine,” You joked, growing more nervous at the way he was looking at you, like he meant he actually wanted to see your face more instead. Jamie’s expression softened into something fond, knee bumping against yours gently, fingers brushing against your shoulder. His touch sent a feeling not unlike static shock through you, racing through your veins and sending your heart thundering loudly in your ears.

You were suddenly aware of just how close he was to you and leaning closer still, so close you could see a smudge of dirt from the pitch on his neck that he’d missed, the flecks of gray in his blue eyes.

“S’shame. Got a face too pretty to be behind the lens all the time. Prettier than mine, even.”

“Stop it,” You mumbled, but there was no real force behind your words. Jamie thought you were pretty. It made you feel giddy inside.

“No, you stop it. You’re stunnin’.” He insisted, looking entirely sincere.

“You’re just saying that.”

“M’not. I mean it.” Jamie shook his head vehemently. You pressed your lips together, denying it still. “You don’t believe me. Here,” He was quick to grab your camera off the table carefully, leaning back a bit and hitting the shutter button determinedly. You’d barely managed to stretch an arm over your face before the flash went off. He squinted at the tiny screen, studying it for a few seconds before smiling proudly.

“Think I finally know what’s so good about those candids you keep talkin’ about. That one’s a keeper.” He was firm in his words, turning the camera around to show you the picture he’d taken. Part of your face was obscured by your outstretched hand, but you could see most of your smile and a gleam in your eyes that you didn’t know you had until this very moment. You liked it.

“D’you wanna go on a date with me sometime?” He asked hopefully, fiddling with the edges of his shirtsleeves. Warmth flooded your cheeks in an instant. “A proper one, where I can come by yours and ring your doorbell and give you flowers and all that shit.”

“Someone give Lust Conquers All a ring, ‘cause Jamie Tartt is a changed man!” You shouldn’t have been cracking jokes right now. It definitely wasn’t the time, but you couldn’t help yourself. It escaped before you could take it back.

But Jamie just rolled his eyes playfully, shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah, alright, have a laugh. You didn’t say yes.”

“I also didn’t say no.” You pointed out, scooting a few inches closer to him. He returned the gesture, sliding towards you until your knees pressed together. You were inches away from each other, again, but this time it was different. This time, you knew how he felt about you.

“That’s still not a yes.” He said softly, so quiet you wouldn’t have heard it had you not been as close to him as you were right now.

You leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek and his eyes fluttered shut. “How’s that for a yes?”

“S’good. Missed the mark though. Should be more like…” He trailed off, sneaking a quick peck to your lips before grinning sheepishly. “That.”

“Sneaky boy.” You rolled your eyes, but your tone was anything but annoyed. “Good thing you’re cute.”

He preened at your compliment, giving a little self satisfied smile. “And a good photographer?”

“Decent. If football doesn’t pan out, maybe I could make you my assistant.”

“That mean I get to spend all day with you?”

“If you can handle it.”

Jamie’s lips quirked up into a soft smile and he kissed you again, a little longer this time. His hand moved up your shoulder around the back of your neck tenderly, a blooming warmth against your skin. “I’ll manage.”

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post new fics :)

#someone tell me to go to bed #jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt fic #jamie tartt x fem!reader #jamie tartt fluff #jamie tartt one shot #jamie tartt imagine

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communistkenobi · 5 days

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Hi, genuine good faith question if you'd like! How is TOS racist? It was my understanding that the OG Series was like, huge for equality in media?

I’m speaking primarily about the content of TOS itself, not its historical impact - I understand it had various historic firsts in terms of having characters of colour in respectable roles, which I’m not dismissing. My experience with the discourse on here surrounding the show is that people front-load these character representations as emblematic of the show’s progressive politics. Which, if we want to go that route, TOS was contemporary to the US civil rights movement, which provides us with a handy measuring stick to see how TOS actually grapples with race, not just the presence of characters of colour themselves. I'm going to be kind of defensive in this explanation, not towards you specifically, but because I have had this conversation with people online many, many, many times, and so any defensiveness on my part is in anticipation of arguments I know will come up as a result of making the basic claim that a show made in America in the 1960s is racist. I'm also going to be copy + pasting from an older post I've made on the subject since it's been a while now since I've watched TOS so some of the details are fuzzy.

Like okay, the premise of TOS is that the Enterprise, as an ambassador of Starfleet/the Federation, is seeking out new alien life to study. The Prime Directive prohibits the Enterprise crew from interfering with the development of any alien culture or people while they do this, so the research they collect needs to be done in an unobtrusive way. I think this is the first point at which people balk at the argument that TOS is racist or has a colonial conception of the world - the Enterprise’s mission is premised on non-interference, and I think when people hear ‘colonial’ as a descriptor they (understandably, obviously) assume it is describing active conquest, genocide, and dispossession. Even setting aside all the times where Kirk does directly interfere with the “development” of a people or culture (usually because they’ve “stagnated” culturally, because a culture "without conflict" cannot evolve or “develop” beyond its current presumed capacity - he is pretty explicitly imposing his own values onto another culture in order to force them to change in a particular way), or the times when the Enterprise is actually looking to extract resources from a given planet or people, I’m not exactly making this claim, or rather, that’s not the only thing I’m describing when calling TOS racist/colonial.

The show's presentation of scientific discovery and inquiry is anthropological - the “object” of analysis is alien/foreign culture, meaning that when the Enterprise crew comes into contact with a new being or person, this person is always read first and foremost through the level of (the Enterprise’s understanding of) culture. Their behaviour, beliefs, dress, way of speaking, appearance, and so on are always reflective of their culture as a whole, and more importantly, that their racial or phenotypic characteristics define the boundaries of their culture. Put another way, culture is interpreted, navigated, and bound racially - the show presents aliens as a Species, but these species are racially homogeneous, flattening race to a natural, biological difference that is always physically apparent and presented through the lens of scientific objectivity, as "species" is a unit of biological taxonomy. Basically species is a shorthand for race. This is the standard of most sci-fi/fantasy genre work, so this is not a sin unique to Star Trek.

Because of this however, Kirk and Co are never really interacting with individuals, they are interacting with components of a (foreign, exotic, fundamentally different) culture, the same way we understand that a biologist can generalize about a species using the example of an individual 'specimen'. And when the Enterprise interacts with these cultures, they very frequently measure them using a universalized scale of development - they have a teleological (which is to say, evolutionary) view of culture, ie, that all cultures go from savage to rational, primitive to advanced, economically simple to economically complex (ie, to capitalist modes of production). And the metrics they are judging these cultures by are fundamentally Western ones, always emphasising to the audience that the final destination of all cultures (that are worthy of advancing beyond their current limited/“primitive” stages) is a culture identical to the Federation, a culture that can itself engage in this anthropological mission to catalogue all life as fitting within a universal set of practices and racial similarities they call “culture.”

This is a western, colonial understanding of culture - racially and spatially homogeneous people comprise the organs of a social totality, ie, a society, which can then be analysed as an “object,” as a “phenomenon,” by the scientists in order to extract information from them to produce and advance state (ie Federation) knowledge. The Enterprise crew are allowed to be individuals, are allowed to be subjects with a capacity for reason, contradiction, emotion, compassion, and even moments of savagery or violence, without those things being assigned to their “race” or “culture” as a whole, but the people they interact with are only components of a whole which are “discovered” by the Enterprise as opportunities to expand and refine the Federation’s body of knowledge.

Spock is actually a good example of what I'm talking about, because he is an exception to this rule - unlike the others in the crew, his behaviour is always read as a symptom of his innate Vulcan-ness, where his human and Vulcan halves war for dominance in his mind and character. Bones (the doctor, one of the main cast) constantly comments on Spock's inability to feel things, that he is callous and unsympathetic, ruled by Vulcan logic to such an extreme that his rationality is a form of irrationality, as his Vulcan blood prohibits him from tempering logic with human emotion and intuition. Now you can argue that Bones is a stand-in for the racists of the world, that Spock proves Bones wrong in that he is able to feel but merely keeps it under wraps, that Vulcans are not biologically incapable of emotion but merely live in a socially repressive culture, but this still engages in the racial logic of the show - Vulcans are a racially-bound species with a single monolithic culture, and Spock's ability to express and feel 'human emotions' is the metric by which he is granted human subjectivity and sympathy.

And on the flip side you have the Klingons - a “race” that is uniformly savage, backward, violent, and dangerous. In the episode Day of the Dove, where Klingons board the Enterprise along with an alien cloud that makes everyone suddenly aggressive and racist (this show is insane lol), the Enterprise crew begins acting violent and racist, but the Klingons don’t change. They aren’t more violent than before (because they already were fundamentally violent and racist), and they don’t become less violent when the cloud eventually leaves (because they are never able to emerge from their violence and savagery as a social condition or external imposition - they simply are that way). Klingons are racially, behaviourally, psychologically, and culturally homogeneous, universally violent and immune to reason, and their racial characteristics are both physical manifestations of this universal violence as well as the origin of it. The writers and creators of TOS are explicitly invoking the orientalist idea of the “Mongolian horde,” representing both the American fear of Soviet global takeover as well as blatantly racist fears about “Asiatics” (a word used in the show, particularly in The Omega Glory where a fear of racialised communist takeover is made explicit) dominating the world.

This is colonial thinking! Like, fundamentally, at its core, this is colonial white supremacist thinking. Now this is not because TOS invents these tropes or is the origin of them, it is not individually responsible for these racial and colonial logics - these conceptions are endemic to Western thought, and I am not expecting a television show to navigate its way outside of this current colonial paradigm of scientific knowledge. I’m also not expecting an average person watching this to pick out all the intricacies of this and link it to the colonial history of Europe or the colonial history of western philosophy/thought. But this base premise of Star Trek is why the show is fundamentally colonial - even if it was the case that the crew never intervened in any alien conflict, never extracted any material resources from other people, this would still be colonial logic and colonial thinking. The show has a fundamentally colonial imagination when it comes to exploration, discovery, and culture.

I think a good place to end is the opening sequence. The show's first line is always "Space! The final frontier." I do not think the word frontier is meant metaphorically or poetically - I think the show is being honest about its conception of space as an infinitely vast, infinitely exotic frontier from which a globally Western civilisation (which the Enterprise is an emblem of) can extract resources, be they material or epistemic

#tos.txt #< have more posts in there also

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forcheol · 3 months

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reader being quiet cos they had a bad day and coups trying to cheer them up 🥺

this man would turn into the biggest clown to make you laugh fr 💯

warnings: hyperventilating due to crying (idk if this is a warning but put it down just in case)

"honey, i'm home!" seungcheol sings as he enters the house, keys jangling as they spin around his pointer finger. he slips off his shoes, hangs his coat up and walks to the living room only to find you snuggled up in a layer of blanket, blank eyes boring into the tv screen.

"hey, doll," he whispers as he saunters over to the couch you're on. a large hand goes to stroke your hair, he's towering over you and you instantly move into every pass of his hand that smoothens your hair.

when you push his hand away, he's confused. did he do something wrong? did he miss something important? he never misses anything due to the events he has recorded on his calendar, though.

he watches curiously as you sit up, pulling the blanket along with you as you wiggle into the corner of the couch. and as you stare at him, he knows what you need. you just need him. the glossy eyes of yours give it away, even though you tried so hard not to show any negative emotions.

tossing his keys and phone on the coffee table, he doesn't hesitate to quickly but carefully place himself next to you. as soon as his hand tugs you onto his chest, into his arms, the tears in your eyes fall. thick, hot tears rush down your cheek and linger at your chin, some soaking the material of his blazer and white shirt. he didn't care if you cried into his suits, never did and never will. if he could be the one for you to lean on and let out your tears, he would do anything.

"i'm here. let it all out, doll."

that's all he whispers as he rubs your back and runs a warm hand over your hair, just sweet words to comfort you. through tears, you explain to him yet his heart squeezes everytime you take a big gasp of air or when another fat tear escapes your eye, he wipes every single tear and whispers 'breathe, sweetheart, i got you' when you begin to hyperventilate.

once you're done explaining, you can't help but let out a huge shuddering breath. at this, seungcheol presses you into his chest further, heart almost breaking at the sound.

"i'll get you some water, hm?" he tries to slip out of your arms but you tighten your hold in protest, "you need to hydrate after crying all those tears, silly."

well, you were a little thirsty after all that so you allow him to grab you a glass of cool water which you drink up surprisingly fast. seungcheol takes the glass from you and swaps it for his phone, tapping around, "let me show you something."

you track his thumb as it swipes through his phone before it settles on a picture of soonyoung looking into the camera lens, he held a croissant in one hand with chocolate smeared around his lips, "he said he misses you."

it makes you giggle and you don't see it but seungcheol is smiling so fondly at you. but your smile fades a while later, remembering the events of your horrible day.

it doesn't go unnoticed by seungcheol at all. being an attentive person, he notices many things about you. he notices the way the tears reform in your eyes, the way you yank lightly on his blazer sleeve and bury yourself back into his broad chest.

"oh, my baby."

gently, he takes your face in his hands and brings you close to his own to stamp a kiss on your cheek, then the other, your nose, your forehead. he doesn't stop until he pulls the sound of laughter out of you. he doesn't stop even when you scrunch your face and sniffle a little after your tears had stopped.

"i'll get that horrible guy for you, i'll teach him a lesson so he doesn't ever mess with my sweet girl again."

"you wouldn't hurt a fly, cherry," you laugh a little because you know seungcheol isn't the violent type.

"hey, i'd do anything for my silly girl."

"silly girl? you're my silly guy then."

and all he can do is chuckle at your words, squeezing his arms around you.

he wouldn't hurt a fly, yes, but he'd go to the ends of the earth for you.

here's the soonyoung pic i was talking about hehe (i know he isn't holding the croissant, just go with it >_<). hope you enjoyed this and if you did, please consider reblogging/commenting and liking <3

#hani: asks #scoups #scoups x reader #scoups fluff #scoups imagines #choi seungcheol #choi seungcheol x reader #choi seungcheol fluff #choi seungcheol imagines #seventeen #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff

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retellingthehobbit · 11 months

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Tolkien Webcomic Recommendations!

I know people here follow me for my webcomic adaptation of the Hobbit. So I thought I’d share recommendations for my favorite similar Tolkien comic projects, in case people are looking for other Tolkien webcomics to read! :D

My recs will be mainly Tolkien comics that adapt portions of the original books, just with their own unique spin on them.

1. Sam and Frodo Comics, by Molly Knox Ostertag

Ostertag is probably the most well known artist on this list! She is a professional graphic novel artist who does gorgeous adaptations of scenes from Lord of the Rings, read through a queer lens, in order to tell the story of Frodo and Sam’s love for each other. This is mixed in with comics based on her own Tolkien-inspired writing. I’m focusing on comics in this rec list, but I’ll add that Ostertag has also written a lot of engaging prose fanfic with illustrations.

“Sam and Frodo Comics”

“In All the Ways There Were” (illustrated prose fanfic adaptation)

2.Lord of the Rings Book Canon Comics, by @yambits

Yambits does beautiful adaptations of scenes from the original lord of the rings books that do not appear in the New Line Cinema films, hewing very close to the original prose, and focusing on the love between Frodo and Sam. I especially love the way they depict the magical temptation of the Ring.

“Ithilien,” an adaptation of Frodo & Sam’s encounter with Faramir

“In the Lair,” an adaptation of Sam & Frodo journeying together into Shelob’s lair

“The Tower,” an adaptation of Sam journeying to the tower of Cirith Ungol to rescue Frodo

“Escape from the Tower,” an adaptation of Sam and Frodo leaving Cirith Ungol to journey into Mordor

The Ringbearers, a comic about the One Ring reflecting on the resilience of hobbits

3. Sansukh the Webcomic, by @fishfingersandscarves and @determamfidd

Sansukh is a well-loved Bagginshield fanfiction that is now getting a webcomic adaptation co-created by the original author. The premise is that after his death, Thorin Oakenshield is not able to speak to his surviving loved ones, but can influence them in subtle ways; he uses this power to help inspire Gimli to join the Fellowship of the Ring and protect Bilbo’s nephew. From there the fic becomes an “adaptation” of Lord of the Rings, retelling the trilogy through its new lens until the very end.

This is a bit of an outlier on this list because it’s an adaptation of a fanfic that’s an adaptation of the books, rather than an adaptation of the book. However, if you’re into the Hobbit fandom/Bagginshield, I recommend checking it out! It’s also one of the few comics on this list that is currently updating. :)

@sansukhcomic (tumblr blog)

Chapter one

Original fanfic the comic is based on

4. The Ainulindalae from the Silmarillion, by Evan Palmer Comics

People who know me, know that I’m *usually* not a big Silmarillion person. However!

Comic artist Evan Palmer did a gorgeous adaptation of the Ainulindale. This section of the Silmarillion describes the elven myth of creation, the ancient years where the world was created through a divine magical song. Palmer’s Fantasia-inspired expressive watercolor art really helps bring this section of the story to life!

Full comic

5.The 1989 Hobbit Comic adaptation, by Chuck Dixon and David T Wenzel

This is another outlier because it’s a physical comic book, rather than a webcomic- and unlike all the other recs this is an “official” adaptation produced by an actual publishing company rather than a zero-budget work made by an indie creator working alone/with a partner. I’m unsure if it can be found online.

It’s an adaptation of the Hobbit that hews extremely close to the original book, making practically no changes at all. It has very gorgeous watercolor illustrations! ( It’s been a big inspiration for me on my own little comic adaptation of the hobbit shsjd.) This is also the only comic on the list I’ll offer critique of, because it’s the only one made by an actual company with a budget— so I’ll say that because of page limits imposed on the comic many of the pages can feel overcrowded with prose, and emotional beats/comedy beats sometimes aren’t given the time to properly land. At times it feels less like a comic adaptation and more like reading the original prose of the Hobbit accompanied by some very beautiful illustrations. But if that’s what you’re into it’s great!

It’s a fun well-illustrated read that I recommend. I’m not sure where people can find copies; I stumbled across it in my library, so they’re definitely still around.

If anyone has additional tolkien comic recommendations,especially ones that can be found easily online, feel free to add them to this list! : D

#the hobbit #lord of the rings #lotr #the Silmarillion #Tolkien #sansukh #the hobbit comic #retelling the hobbit #webcomics #middle earth #webcomic recs #not chapters #misc #let me know if I’ve written anything incorrectly in this post and all correct it!#(if the comic authors see this)

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deramin2 · 5 months

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Bell's Hells had a mental health crisis on the eve of their deployment to the global crisis front lines, and went to a HAG for help. Protected only by being with her granddaughter (mob boss's granddaughter core). Specifically one who delights in voyeurism of bumbling awkwardness and failure. She treats people like her own personal soap opera. Allura said she's known to feed off misery. They tell Mori her intervention could influence the entire fate of the gods and the world.

FCG makes a deal with the hag and ASKS to have their memory wiped so they'd get to be surprised about what happens. Likely the payment was them being sufficiently interesting and dramatic for her because they implicitly trust her to help them.

The hag then tosses a magic lens into an ordinary feywild ravine with three magically enforced rules: they must bring her the lens to win. If they speak truths, a path will appear upwards. If they tell lies a new thing will go wrong for them. She then watches them escalate her high-stakes truth or dare game into telling each other their rawest internal shit they were keeping to themselves but were coloring their feelings. Fair or not. They do this remarkably willingly under her trap.

Then she sets them up on a video game platformer challenge where you have to physically navigate a path overa casm blind protected only by your friends in co-op chat looking the map. She sets up thunder hornets nests to punish themIf they have natural human reactions of concern. They win two rounds and then lose one. So she makes a new rule that they can take the loss (and unknown consequences) or try one more time but instead of it being safe game rules it's now potentially deadly. They agree. This time they win through expert teamwork and suppressing their emotions.

Last the hag sets them up with a game of TF2 vs. a spy team but no one knows who's missing. They have to capture three briefcases while KNOWING some of their team mates are working against them. Orym has to execute those contingency plans while uncovering whose a traitor and who's actually on his side but as sketchy as usual.

This is what they've all discussed as their nightmare scenario. This is what they are so afraid to go through that the misery is tearing them apart. She's forcing them to go through the thing they least want to face. As a practice run. Because the fear underneath is not just of betrayal, but failure. That if they can't work together they will fail to save the world, and thus everyone in the world. What's that really look like if that happened and you could lose for real? And not know what happens to them if they fail.

Some A+ reality TV content produced by Mori Entertainment. They might win an Exandrian daytime Emmy. Look at all that abject bubbling missery being created. An incredible feast willingly given. All they have to do is be normal for them in her vicinity and they basically asked her to feed off them as a favor to try an unsanctioned new therapy method on humanoid subjects. If she does nothing to hurt them except giving them games they asked for, she still gets a gourmet meal.

Nana Mori is simultaneously being a doting grandmother and a terrifying fey nightmare and Bell's Hells are like "please grandmother I think your death traps could fix me."

Will dopplegangers fix them? That remains to be seen. Depends on how they handle it. But they'll have a trial run to know for sure. That gives them time to break for real or adjust. Mori IS the fate stitcher, and thread came to her begging to be sewn. She plucks the strings that she finds most interesting. And whatever else they are, Bell's Hells are very interesting.

#critical role #critical role spoilers #critical role meta #critical role campaign 3 #Bell's Hells #Nana Mori

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sandraharissa · 6 months

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Giving Silco a bad eye and making this his symbol was such a genius idea, like it’s so delicious on so many levels.

For one it really adds to his look/design. Fans would often joke that he looks like a rat, which is fair and funny, but imo the goal of the designers was to make him look like a shark. He’s got this peculiar nose that gives his whole head roughly the shape of a shark snout, he’s got the broken teeth that look like triangular shark teeth, and then there’s the eye, which has no eyelid and never blinks, exactly like a shark’s eye.

(see Jinx gets it)

Then, on the topic of no eyelid, he obvs never blinks with that eye which gives the impression of constant surveillance and being all-knowing. This ties nicely into the eye being his symbol, the image we see of the open eye that never blinks that is present on all the locations he owns/has influence over/oversees. That was most definitely a part of Silco’s Undercity that he established, keeping ppl in line through fear. It’s reflected in his own man refusing to cooperate with Cait but instead of insulting her or claiming loyalty to a cause he says ‘he’ll kill me’, then we also see it with Babette (who I’m certain knew everything but wouldn’t risk it for Vi and so essentially lead Vi to Sevika/her death) and Huck. It’s most obvious with Marcus, how he thought he could do what he wanted (‘rescue Vi’) against Silco’s interests behind his back cos he’ll never find out, but he does find out eventually which puts Marcus and his daughter in a Situation. This is how Silco does business. (Babette knew and didn’t want to find herself in a Situation in the future imo, telling Vi nothing of value, sending Vi away in a way that wouldn’t cast suspicion on herself and wouldn’t tie Vi to the location of her brothel and essentially leading her to Sevika so she could retroactively claim loyalty even if found out.)

In general the eye imagery is often connected to seeing more than others, the third eye and knowledge. All apply to Silco through his ideas of independence and a unified nation that were revolutionary for the Undercity and ahead of its time. Most notable is the moment when he talks to Vander about Zaun, he looks in the distance as tho he can see it in front of him meanwhile others can’t. Here I could also point to other things like him understanding/being right about the Council like ‘I just need to scare them’ and also the thing Silco himself thinks of as a secret knowledge he possesses aka his monster ideology.

Lastly to me the eye in a big way represents his trauma. It’s literally a wound/disability that is the result of the traumatic event in question but metaphorically it also shows how ever since the traumatic event he’s never been able to see the world in a normal way again but that from then on the way he perceives the world is always filtered through the lens of his trauma. And that is the eye that never closes. But I also think it’s very fitting to give him the one bad eye but keep the other eye normal. I’d say it’s a fair assessment of Silco to say he lives with one leg in reality and the other in his delulu land.

And that also creates a nice contrast with Jinx whose designed so that her right eye is covered most times but just by her bang which could symbolize that she has blind spots and that her ability to see reality is obstructed but otherwise her both eyes are normal. But then she reaches her final form with the shimmer eyes, and even tho from a distance it now looks like she has got the bad left eye, in reality both her eyes are ‘trauma eyes’ now and she can’t see reality for what it is anymore.

#silco #arcane #jinx #my:arcane #silco and jinx #arcane worldbuilding

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catpriciousmarjara · 10 months

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Tell me: Is He Gay or In a Sherwani?

Imposition of western norms in fandom analysis of Asian characters

With the rising popularity of Indian cinema sparked by the recent success of RRR on international platforms as well as the easy availability of multiple streaming services, in addition to the appearance of South Asian characters in prominent roles in western, particularly US media, I've begun to see some concerning 'analysis' posts online. So I thought I'd address something I found common in most of these takes.

Guys, characterizing your blorbos as queer is great and all, love it, but you're making a fundamental mistake by making their clothing choices the foundation for your queer headcanons, especially when it comes to male characters. Do not apply existing western cultural ideas regarding male clothing onto South Asian characters and their dressing please.

The vast majority of the clothes being used by people in various online spaces as 'evidence' of a character being queer(gay or bi mostly) are just normal Indian clothing for men, like daily wear. A top being pink or a character's wardrobe being mostly pastel means absolutely nothing...cos Indian clothing tends to be colourful in general and the tendency to ascribe colours masculine and feminine qualities is considerably less in the subcontinent. I'm not saying it doesn't exist, but generally not a concern.

There's also this pervasive idea that colourful clothing = flamboyance = queer and that itself is something many people have already pointed as a deeply flawed way of thinking and a stereotype. Furthermore, even if you do lean into the archetype of queer men being flamboyant, subscribing to the 'stereotypes exist for a reason don't they?' school of thought perhaps, there's also the fact that ideas of what is considered flamboyant change dramatically across different cultures. What is 'flamboyant' for someone might just be normal for others. Like maybe pink or purple or yellow might be considered too much, unmanly, emasculating etc in the US or something but they're just perfectly normal colours for men to wear in many, many cultures.

It's the 'Is he Gay or European?' principle. Did you characterize this Indian character (or any South Asian character really) as queer because of their canonical behaviour and portrayal, or did you just see their clothing and decide they're queer because being well groomed and having a colourful wardrobe is a character trait you exclusively ascribe to being queer?

Like guys, I like Chaipunk like the rest of you, but if you consider Pavitr queer just because his costume is a lot fancier than the others' (An actual take I've seen multiple times) without taking into account his cultural background....¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Let me make this clear, I don't think people need a ten page analysis to imagine their fave as queer. Headcanoning a character as queer can have any reason ranging from 'I said so and so it is' to 'this is my light character analysis that makes a masters thesis look shabby' and they're all valid and an integral part of the fandom experience. What I am annoyed at are these so-called 'well-researched' theories that did not make the slightest effort to look into South Asian culture and simply transposed their western bias onto Indian media and confidently make flat out wrong judgements and mislead other people. Clothing based sexual identity determinism is the least of it. That I can at least understand through the lens of a habitual process built through years of analyzing crumbs of queer representation available only through queer coded characters and symbolism such as clothing choices being the only way to see an aspect of yourself portrayed in an aggressively heteronormative media ecosystem. I do that too, because media is tragically heteronormative everywhere. But the rest? Its just straight up misinformation and misrepresentation touted as truth.

Its the same with relationships between men. There are plenty of cultures where skinship between men is not unusual and dynamics and nuances tend to be vastly different from western representations of male friendships. In xianxia and wuxia fandoms you can see this same problem in a different font when outsiders, most often the western side of the fandom, try to apply their own standards and morals onto the original work and try to interpret it through a lens it was never supposed to be interpreted through in the first place, except maybe for comparative analysis. This practice itself isn't a major problem, its natural for people to apply what is familiar to them to try and understand something new. But when this is also accompanied by them foisting their personal interpretation and analysis as the 'correct' one and trying to impose it on the fandom as a whole, it escalates into a powder keg situation as you can imagine.

Again, not saying that western parts of fandoms are the root of all evil or anything like that, gods know how toxic netizens can be. But in this specific situation, where people try to impose western ideals on to non-western content and assumes the universalism of their own principles and value systems? Indeed an issue to be addressed.

#ATSV #South Asian Characters #Desi characters #South Asian culture #Desi Culture #Fandom analysis #LGBTQ+#Brown culture #Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse #Pavitr Prabhakhar #Hobie Brown #Chaipunk #RRR #Miss Marvel #Tagging Miss Marvel and RRR only because they're in the intro-two pieces of media that are good examples of the increased attention-#on South Asian characters and Indian cinema #Not included in the body of the post except under umbrella terms like South Asian character/South Asian media & other such categories

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yangsharperavery · 9 months

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so here's the thing...

i've written about this topic a few times during and after season 1, but the carmy and sydney of it all remains a highly contested and discussed topic. even after season two.

what i find so truly fascinating is that chris storer and joanna calo and everyone involved with the creation of this lovely, well constructed show absolutely could have created the duo they work SO hard in the press to convince viewership they intended.

if they really wanted sydney to be a psuedo/standin sibling for the one carmy lost, or the brainy, determined business partner that comes in to orient a sinking ship...

there are a couple hundred ways they could have managed that and made it abundantly clear that's what the angle was within the dynamic between carmy and sydney.

instead... we have all this very overtly (and covertly) romantic, potent and simmering subtext regarding the nature of their relationship and what they mean to one another, their effect on each other and their seemingly endless potential.

in a whole host of ways there are a number of scenes that literally don't make sense without the lens of the undercurrent of feelings or reverence or romance or something that exists between them beyond the intended business partners/co-creatives.

there are ways to narratively parallel sydney as a mirror and equal and peer of carmy's void of all ambiguity and romantic tension and any energy of awkward longing or confusion.

but that's not actually what we got. i've been consuming television media for most of my life. i've watched hundreds of shows; shipping has never been a requirement for my viewership or interest.

which leads me to believe that there's either a bunch of deflection/dismissing happening for a very distinct reason. or there's been a bait and switch planned from the beginning.

you would literally have to remove 75% of the nuance within carmy and sydney's interactions for the stictly platonic claims to make sense and effectively land.

you'd have to go through and remove various staging, shot selection, editing, music choices and sometimes entire scenes to accurately convey original or "intended" messaging.

to completely eradicate the liminal space of subjectivity between them.

why is carmy talking about tina looking like sydney with that distinct expression on his face when they all wear that apron?

why are they being awkward at the lockers like it isn't customary for coworkers and business partners to go out after work for dinner or drinks or whatever (literally evidenced by tina this season)?

why is sydney mentioning jealousy at all when it comes to carmy's relationship? especially when it makes perfect sense for her to be upset with him for not pulling his weight?

why is sydney entering into carmy's life for the first time and deciding to stay, the second time, something that literally brings him out of his panic? when it could have been him cooking, his drawings, his staff, his gf. ANYTHING else.

they effectively made sydney an emotional, mental and energetic tether for him in that scene. for what reason? business partner ones or????

why do they bicker like an old married couple? is that customary for creative collaborators and coworkers?

why superimpose sydney, parallel her doing something the audience saw carmy do last season, and then show her going about her night while he's by contrast, with his girlfriend? why show a random closeup of a meaningful tattoo on her shoulder? no thematic significance beyond the grind of the restaurant world and career ambition?

why is there an obvious awkward breaking of energy after a highly vulnerable and tender moment between the two of them under the table? why does sydney noticeably fidget/adjust herself/her apron when he walks away to get her gift?

there's actually a hundred instances of these questions you could ask over the course of the two seasons when it comes to them.

so the reasoning behind the shipper pushback is baffling and a bit laughable.

some people bring into question, perhaps this is just the natural chemistry that jaw and ayo bring to their characters bc they're obviously good friends.

which... sure. i guess. but even that begs the question, you wrote and shot and constructed a story a specific way and then your two actors sort of bled on and expanded the material in a very obvious way you didn't expect?

cool, cool. so again... you're surprised that could lead to viewership seeing something deeper than mere platonic business partners?

that's shocking and surprising to you?

no way.

especially considering storer and calo have commented on how close jaw and ayo are and that their dynamic is different than the one she has with ebon and lionel. which is hilarious bc she adores ebon and has been out of the country traveling with lionel (and some other people from odd future.)

so clearly they all enjoy each other, are friends and get along.

but why even make that note of demarcation regarding jaw and ayo's dynamic and STILL be like "oh yeah, we didn't write or mean for them to be a romance " you're shocked that people SEE something given your storytelling and their obvious connection that even you, the creators themselves remarked on?!?!

there's a picture from the golden globes of ayo holding jaw's mom's hands during his acceptance speech. like they're really besties.

but i'm sorry, they can't bestie themselves into what carmy and sydney clearly exemplify on our screens without an entire framework at their disposal. because they're talented and professionals.

so if the writing is saying something, then it's intentional.

maybe the intention was to have their characters skirt and skate on the periphery of each other.

maybe it was for things to be awkward and weird and undefined or hectic and toxic.

maybe they weren't ever gonna have some relegated idea of a shipper's happily ever after.

people have feelings that go unexpressed and undefined. people fall in love and then don't end up together.

maybe the slow burn fizzles out, maybe it explodes or implodes, maybe one of them self denies, maybe they both do.

maybe it will or won’t be addressed directly or covertly. that's actually not a requirement for its existence.

to act like there isn't something true and obvious and visceral that exists between these characters is frankly like asking those who watch your show not to use their eyes and their brains.

impossible.

#sydcarmy #the bear fx #carmy x sydney #carmy berzatto #sydney adamu #let's act like we can all consume media and hold various elements and arcs and constructs within our minds

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sailorblossoms · 4 months

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When Simon describes first seeing Agatha, he's like "I've never seen anything so beautiful." The whole paragraph stands out to me as "the vibes are wrong for you to be talking about someone you're dating" because he's essentially an 11 or 12-year-old (in the memory) imagining what it feels to be like the pretty girl he's looking at (as opposed to conveying desire, which he doesn't do). But all of that isn't the point here (and I've talked about it a lot anyway).

What I'm thinking here is more along the lines of "if he's saying he has never seen anything as beautiful as Agatha, where does Baz fit into the picture?"

Well, if iirc the crucible making them roommates is the earliest memory he has of Baz, so we could say he hasn't seen Baz yet when he says that about Agatha and call it a day. But we can go further.

When Simon shares this thought, he has yet to figure out how attraction feels. He doesn't know yet! CO starts and he's still not figuring out when he's feeling it or how it even looks like. "I've never seen anything so beautiful" could be said about a place, about a thing. It's not "I've never seen anyone so beautiful" or "I've never seen a more beautiful girl." You could say "I've never seen anything so beautiful" about a person, but without context, you would probably assume this is being said about a place or a thing, and with context, it further plays into how Simon sees this more as a concept (her beauty is seen as strength, as a way to be special, as a tool to get acceptance... in that sense, beauty is almost "a place to go") rather than something that sparks (romantic or sexual) desire. "I've never seen anything so beautiful... I want to be as beautiful as the thing," in short.

With Baz, outside of exposition writing (describing how he wears his hair, for example) Simon enters that "fantasy mode" when he's seeing him through the lens of roles ("he looks like a gangster" or something) but he can't help himself from going "how dare he be attractive and romantically desirable" (which is not ever how he describes Agatha, he describes as aspirational at most).

We also have this: "He floats out over the moat and lands on the other side. It’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen." If this is the prettiest thing, then that means nothing he has seen before is as pretty. "The prettiest thing I've ever seen" can also be talking about a place or a thing, but this is commonly used to talk about someone you have feelings for. It's commonly used in the context of desire or infatuation or romantic love. Way more common than "I've never seen anything so beautiful." (Personally, first thing that comes to mind with "prettiest thing I've ever seen" is a guy talking about a woman he loves or is attracted to). Also, it occurs to me that when Simon first sees Agatha, he was new at school and probably not doing shit. In this scene, Simon sees Baz when he's in his role of hero, in the middle of a fight, and that's when he stops everything, jaw on the floor, probably drooling a little, to look at Baz doing his thing. And it's the prettiest thing he has ever seen. It encapsulates how tellingly distracting Baz is (while Agatha is the opposite of distracting, she's barely in his mind)

#simon snow #baz pitch #simon snow trilogy #snowbaz #carry on #baz x simon #baz grimm pitch #awtwb

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mamahersh · 1 year

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Mamahersh’s Post-MAG-200 Fanfic Recommendation Mega Thread

@a-mag-a-day

In celebration of us finishing The Magnus Archives (even if I admittedly fell off around S2 and have been mostly lurking since then), I have compiled all of my fave post series fics for your enjoyment! I will be grouping them in some big, general categories, which I’ll list above the read more here. Depending on the size of this post, it might start looking a bit like that “Do you like the sky?” post But I can assure you that I have read all of these and can give them my stamp of approval!

If you finished the series and were wishing for your best boys to finally be happy, then boy howdy do I have some fanfiction for you!

Time Travel

Somewhere Else

AUs

Uncategorized JonMartin Fluff

By these categories, we should hopefully cover all the recommendations I have, and I hope you all find some new fics! (or enjoy rereading fics you haven’t enjoyed in awhile)

TIME TRAVEL

where there’s a will, we make a way by bubonickitten

"So, what does happen if an Eye learns to See within itself?

What happens is this: the Archive Beholds the Watcher – and the Watcher blinks first."

________________________

Jon goes back to before the world ended and tries to forge a different path.

Probably my fave time travel fic in this fandom hands down; it is also currently the longest whilst still unfinished. While I try not to recommend unfinished fics that I am uncertain of their return to activity, this is a big exception and personally I love everything about it! It’s got Jon dealing with trauma through the lens of his speaking only in Statements, Martin being saved from his downward spiral into the Lonely way earlier in S4, Georgie actually sticking around, Basira having a better grasp of the situation and being more understanding about it, and everyone generally sticking close to character while managing to buck parts of the narrative. I cannot recommend this fic enough, and I very likely already did back near the start of S5.

Something’s Different About You Lately by thesnadger

Jonathan Sims has been head archivist for just a few months, but he has memories of holding the position for years. He remembers monsters, and darkness, and the end of the world. Somehow, he'll have to keep everyone safe from what's coming. Meanwhile, his assistants can't understand why their prickly jerk of a boss has gone sappy all of a sudden.

So TMA time travel fics that focus on Jon going back tend to come in two varieties. There’s the “Jon’s mind goes back and replaces himself/inhabits his past self’s body” and then there’s the “Jon physically goes back so there’s two Jons”. The first two on this list are of the first variety, and if I remember right this was one of the first I ever read. However, I recommend this one specifically because this has an amazing ending. Like, it might just be me, but many of the endings in these feel relatively unsatisfying because there’s magically a third option where Jon comes out unscathed while saving his S1 archives crew from the Horrors. For whatever reason, it was incredibly satisfying having a fic that didn’t shy away from the options presented in S4 and S5 and I love how they characterize everyone in this one as well.

100 Seconds to Midnight by starspangledbread

Jon and Martin find themselves back in 2011 after attempting to release the fears from their reality. The world is the same one they left behind, but now something has come back with them. They have a chance to destroy the fears once and for all, but it proves harder than expected. Who knew that the best laid plans could be thwarted by nosy co-workers, office romance, the inevitable learning curve of being a time traveler turned grifter, and the refusal to believe in subtlety?

Did someone say Extinction!Jon? This also is a part of a series, though the true sequel to this one is currently unfinished (though it should eventually be completed and only has one chapter to go). An excellent romp, I definitely recommend if you’re looking for something kinda dark, some comedy, a little OOC, and Martin being able to embrace his crime side in the name of saving the world.

Yesterday is Here by CirrusGrey

"Who the hell are you?" Jon could feel his hands shaking. The man laughed, taking a step forward and raising a hand to point at him. "I'm you, from the future!" he said, then swayed, eyes going unfocused, and collapsed to the floor in a dead faint. -------- Post-season-four Jon and Martin time travel back to the season one Archives.

Written by my fave (and most prolific) JMart author, we have a perfect example of the other kind of time travel fix it fic in the form of Jon physically travelling to the past to try and save the world. As expected by someone I am calling my fave JMart author, we’re going to be getting double dose on the JMart. I highly recommend if you’re looking for something that starts a little bittersweet, but then ends in copious amounts of fluff.

Reverb (Series) by Wolftraps

Undoing the apocalypse would have been enough for Jon, if all his people survived. Without them, Jon's only recourse is making it so it never happened in the first place. He's going to do better this time.

Summary from the first fic in the Reverb series, I highly recommend the first two fics in this series for different reasons. “The Reverb in These Holy Halls” is a great time travel fic that takes some really interesting turns by the end and unlike most fics actually has Jon try to keep Tim safe by keeping him out of the Archives pre-S1. However “Gossip” I recommend if you enjoy those fics formatted to look like official communication of some kind. It’s got people outside the Archives trying to figure out what’s wrong with them during the events of the first fic, and while it would be very confusing to read without the first fic, I’d almost say it’s worth it if you aren’t feeling the tags on the first one. Really fun and entertaining, you can’t go wrong with either one.

The Triumph of Galatea (for Acis is transformed) by TheOestofOCs

Statement of Hazel Rutter.

Jon couldn’t stop reading.

The Fears, however, are a bit more powerful than Jonah gave them credit for. Jon opens the door, but the world can’t hold what’s on the other side.

Time falls through, instead. Past becomes present, and the future is undone.

Statement begins.

Another fic I definitely recommended back at episode 160, but is well worth the second recommendation and/or re-read. Time Travel, but what if Jon could control as well as go into the dreams of the assistants/other Eye aligned people instead of just his victims’ dreams? Very good, even if unfinished, though the author seems likely to finish someday. Check out their other work as well, it’s all very good and has my fave Circus themed fic written to date.

a map of what matters most by gruhukens

“Is that a body,” Tim blurts before he can stop himself, rising to his feet. Martin looks, if possible, even more scared.

“He’s alive!” he hisses, almost defensively. “It’s not - it’s not Gertrude again, I didn’t kill him, he just – I don’t know what happened to him, I just found him in the stacks like this.”

“And you dragged him up here?” Tim says, and then registers several things at once – the build, the hair texture; the little round scars peppering a pair of thin hands and an awfully familiar face. “Wait, is that Jon?”

----

Jon stumbles back into an earlier Archive, looking for a way to fix the world. (Or, mom says it's my turn for the obligatory time travel au)

Directly inspired by CirrusGrey’s fic that I recommended earlier, this is another: Jon travels physically into the past fic. This one though is far more bittersweet than “Yesterday is Here”, but still an excellent read and does a great job at fleshing out the relationships between all the characters.

Saving the Universe: For Dummies by GhostChoir

Finding a man bleeding out in the alleyway was not what Elias wanted to do today. And he certainly didn’t mean to befriend him. But things never did go how he expected.

****** A Post-MAG200 Jon meets a 1970s Elias, an Elias from before he was corrupted by Jonah. Together, the two of them learn to cope with grief, drink more tea than any two people should be able to consume, and commiserate over shitty bosses. Oh, and just for the hell of it, they stop an apocalypse along the way.

Now for a change of pace: What if Jon time travels to the time of early Gertrude and Elias pre-Jonafying? A very good fic is what! While it’s been awhile since I read this, I do remember it’s quite good and deserves a chance. Note: this is NOT Jonathan/Elias, so my apologies if you were looking for that, but it is two very lonely men getting to just have a reliable friend in times of trouble.

A Little Game of Cat and Mouse by Paptato

“Jonah Magnus.” The cloudy silhouette snarled as it’s hand clamped tightly around Jonah's ascot. That was indeed his name, but Jonah couldn’t begin to fathom what he did to have it spat out with such hatred.

But nonetheless, Jonah was a gentleman and he would kindly address the angry figure as politely as possible, “Yes, and you are?”

“What?” The form spluttered as it slowly came into focus. Ah, yes. That probably wasn’t the proper response to being held at gunpoint by a random stranger. Must have been the blow to his head.

(Or in which Jonathan Sims goes back in time and tries to pull a Terminator, but fails and Jonah Magnus finds a new mystery to solve.)

This is that Jonah Magnus/Jonathan Sims enemies to lovers fic your friends warn you about in a good way. It’s not done, but I think it’s still being updated very slowly. Even if all I ever read is the currently released 11 chapters, I will consider it my one exception to my dislike of Jonah/Jon. As you can probably guess by the description, it’s a time travel fix it where Jon gets shunted back in time to when Jonah was still very human and still trying to figure out the Fears. The Web keeps Jon from explaining his circumstances or anything to do with Jonah’s future in particular, but this is a good thing and they both get to learn how to be more human in a world that previously was very antagonistic to those goals. It’s got a heavy dose of comedy, plenty of romantic tension, and lots of both surprising and unsurprising cameos. If you enjoy Dracula Daily, you’ll probably enjoy this imho.

Déjà Vu by CirrusGrey

Sasha remembers being unmade. Tim remembers being Unknown. Jon and Martin remember being unwound. All of them think they're the only one. -------- The S1 crew wakes up in the past with memories up till the moment they died.

So, here’s another one that’s got quite the spin on it. As you can see from the description, this one is where S1 crew all get their minds sent back in time to the time right around Jon’s first statement if I remember right. Another CirrusGrey fic, so it heavily leans on JonMartin, but otherwise it’s a wonderful exploration of the four S1 characters and ends on a very hopeful note!

oh my darling, just a moment of your time by IceEckos12

The Institute is visited by a pair of time travelers, and Jon has an important question for Tim.

Have you ever had a oneshot that just kinda guts you unexpectedly? While this might not do this for everyone, this is an amazing oneshot that gets right the point. I love it a lot, because of all of the fics where future and past meet each other, it very rarely if ever is addressed that past Jon was a douche. Or well it is but past Jon doesn’t necessarily have a character moment from it. Here he does, and despite the briefness of the fic, the author does an amazing job of giving Jon and Tim a moment while making an almost critique of the TMA time travel genre. Highly, highly recommend, and it won’t overstay it’s welcome if it doesn’t end up being your thing.

The Severing of Webs by chlodobird

After Jon kills the world, he travels back in time. Once there, he gets ready to change the future, to save his Assistants, and to watch as everyone learns to hate him again.

Unfortunately, the tapes wrap around him like a fly caught in a Web—he can't move. He's trapped reliving the original timeline, stuck acting out his past actions like an actor rehearsing his lines.

Sasha will die. Tim will die. Martin—

(Jon screams inside his mind, and someone hears him. Fate is not as immutable as he fears.)

This one is a brand new one! While basically all of the others on the list have been out/updating for over a year at this point; this lengthy oneshot just released this month. tbh, very excellent, which is why it has made the list. Also, quite the twist on the usual premise, where being sent back into his head is actually a bad thing this time. Ends with a giant pile of fluff, but who would I be if all my time travel recommendations were not also fix-its?

Somewhere Else

it will be this, always by bluejayblueskies

Jon coughed again, and blood stained his lips and blood stained Martin’s hands where they pressed against Jon’s back and blood stained the floor beneath them and help, they needed help.

Martin doesn’t remember shouting. He barely remembers the faces that had surrounded them, wide-eyed and terrified, all utterly unfamiliar.

Jon and Martin wake up somewhere else. Jon begins a slow path toward physical recovery, and several important, long-put-off conversations are had as they begin to navigate a new world that they hadn’t thought they’d be alive to see.

So, I’m sure you all have gathered that I have qualms with how much disparity there is between canon and fanon Jmart. This fic is painful, but is the most in character depiction of post 200 JMart fallout I have ever read. The ending is very cathartic, and takes a “realistic” approach to what happens to Jon and Martin as they begin to navigate their relationship after they both had betrayed each other so thoroughly in the leadup and culmination of MAG 200. If you don’t want them immediately making up, this is the fic for you. They get there, but by all that is good do they take their sweet time getting there.

Out There, Somewhere by Artyphex

"I'm sorry, you were found alone."

Jon survived the apocalypse and now will go to the end of this new, unfamiliar world to find Martin again.

So I think I’m just getting all the angsty ones out of the way first lol. Another slow burn, this fic is Jon’s recovery in the new reality while he also searches for what happened to Martin. Since I don’t post the tags, I will say this ones does feature “Eventual Happy Ending”, and I do promise that both Jon and Martin made it to the new reality and lived. But Jon and Martin both get to pine and cope for a while before that happy ending tag comes into play. It’s incredibly well done and explores their characters really well. Personally, I kinda enjoyed the Reddit saga because people mistaking Jon’s pleas for Martin as an ARG is very typical internet and 100% I would have bought into that at age 13.

Of course I need a therapist. I need ten therapists, working round the clock building me a bionic coping mechanism. We have the technology. by MartinKBlackwoodESQ

A story set somewhere else.

I’mma be real with you all, if I believed that characters could write and publish their own fanfiction, I would be halfway convinced the name is accurate. All joking aside however, this is a “crack treated seriously” fic but with characterization so on point I can consistently hear the voice actors when I read this. Admittedly, it’s made easier by it being written in transcript formatting, but if you’re looking for a hilarious time where TMA is suddenly is turned into a buddy cop adventure where Jon and Martin go to a universe where the Fears hadn’t been till their arrival, and they have doubles that already exist there who are living fairly normal lives till the TMA Jon and Martin crash land into their reality... Well this fic is one I cannot recommend highly enough. It also has a sequel, and it is also well worth the read, even if it appears to be on a bit of a break in it’s updates.

Worlds like phyllo pastry by neworld

After episode 200 Jon finds himself alone in a world very much like the one he left but fractionally different. It's so similar he finds versions of his former friends existing happily in the world. Unfortunately they have never met him in this universe and have no idea who he is.

This one’s unfinished, but personally it’s well worth the read as is. Not sure how I feel about the most recent chapter, but the story up till that point is a really fun spin on “Jon and Martin get shunted to a new reality” where Jon learns how to feed in a way that doesn’t cause problems facilitated by the new reality, and re-meets all the people who he lost till this point and has a very silly antagonistic relationship with his alternate self. While fic might be more of a guilty pleasure, it still is written in such a way that I would rank it high enough for this disorganized list.

Death Is The Easy Way Out by traveller19

After having killed Jonah Magnus and ended the Change, Jon and Martin should finally be able to rest. Rest, however, proves impossible when Jon falls ill. What's more, he begins having vivid dreams of their dead friends - Tim, trapped in the destroyed Archives, and Sasha, trapped outside of them. As Jon's condition quickly worsens and the line between dream and reality begins to blur, love is all he and Martin have to hold on to, because hope is a dangerous thing.

Did someone say sickfic??? But for real, this fic has an amazing balance between an A plot and a B plot, and keeps both at the right level of tension throughout. While this is a sickfic heavy one, it also features Tim and Sasha as ghosts trying desperately not to be. There’s also a lovely sequel and plenty of fluff by the end, but this is a rough ride. ALSO, if you or a loved one had covid / any respiratory illness that caused them to be hospitalized with pneumonia and it could be trigging to read incredibly on the nose descriptions of that experience, this fic is not for you. Or very cathartic. :/

Castaways by CirrusGrey

Welcome to the Castaway Foundation, a nonprofit organization dedicated to providing a safe and secure landing to those lost souls banished from their home worlds by the influence of Fear.

If you wanted saccharine JMart in a new reality where they get therapy and meet old friends from different realities, this series of (mostly) one shots is for you! As you’ve probably come to expect when I suggest CirrusGrey, the writing is fantastic, the ship dynamics are exemplary, and the character are on point. There is so much to say about this series, but mostly, if you want Jon and Martin healing and then settling together and becoming the stereotypical married couple, then this is it. It’s not done, but it is wrapping up, and I hope you all if you haven’t seen this yet enjoy it as much as I do. And for those long time readers who have been reading it longer than I’ve been in the fandom, here’s your friendly reminder that it exists.

Do Before I Die by SupposedToBeWriting

Somewhere Else, Jon can't seem to shake the strange apathy that now plagues his life. Everything reminds Martin of the end of the world. For a change of pace, he and Martin rent a campervan and go on a road trip. Their mission? To fulfill the 'bucket list' Martin made when he was eighteen and lonely. Jon's looking forward to the beach.

Jon and Martin go on a Road Trip accross Britain. It’s just a wholesome and hurt/comfort as it describes. An excellent romp, and the character studies are wonderful. The Planetarium still sticks with me.

ours is a distant shore (series) by pantsoflobster

“If they ever found out about us, we could make things really complicated for them," Jon said. Martin gave a thoughtful hum and then a loaded pause before he said, “Or simpler.” “What?” “We could, you know…” Martin then made mischievous eyes at him in lieu of expanding. “What?” Jon said, thoroughly lost. “Wouldn’t it be a bit fun to sort of... nudge them in the right direction?”

Months after they arrive Somewhere Else, Jon sees himself in the shop.

Summary is from the first fic in the series, this is a fun little romp for those who hated Martin’s defeatism over his and Jon’s relationship in MAG199 and want to see what would happen if instead he accidentally kick started an alternate version and his and Jon’s relationship Somewhere Else. It’s all very silly, tho the last fic does lean more into the hurt/comfort tag than the previous two. Over all though, if you’re looking for a little crack, a lot of fluff, and Jon and Martin being silly this is a good time.

Written in the Stars Will Have to Do by GentlemanCrow

“Yeah well, god knows why, but he thinks you hung the moon, so you might try treating him at the very least like a human being once in a while.”

It was such a small thing. Small words for a small feeling cloaked in a chintzy veneer of idiomatic dismissal. A trembling little bird cupped in his scarred and battered hands and smothered. Or so he thought. Sometimes trembling little birds turn out to be phoenixes, and those who looked to someone else to hang the comfort of a wise, silvery moon in the sky already have the hammer and the picture wire at the ready.

As far as Jon was concerned, the moon only rose on their Somewhere Else because Martin deigned to pull the strings every night, not him.

This is another one of those JMart Somewhere Else fics masquerading as a Safehouse fic that made me want to cry. It’s just, so wonderful, and once again we have themes of healing, but this time through getting a hobby and sharing it with your significant other. The writing is lovely and really gives off the stuffy academic musings I would expect being in Jon’s head (which we are for the duration of this fic) but adds a layer that I didn’t realized I needed till I read it.

On Errantry by ZaliaChimera

Somewhere Else, Jon and Martin discover that their new home has a very special sort of guardian, and Jon seeks judgement from an unexpected source.

They do say that cats purring can heal...

A cute one shot that deals with Jon’s lingering guilt from S5; this is a wonderful tale from Somewhere Else featuring a giant Cat, Martin being supportive, and Jon trying to reconcile his second chance. Very sweet and fluffy, guaranteed!

Lost, Unfound, But Not Forgotten by Elynn

They didn’t find bodies. Or anything pointing to where they may have gone. In the center of the rubble, what Georgie assumed to have once been the top of the tower, was a puddle of dried, crusted blood, and the outline of bodies in the dust and scorch marks. And she knew that wherever the Fears had gone, Jon and Martin had gone with them. The last victims, snuffed and dragged away with them. --- In the weeks after the Eye-pocolypse, Georgie Barker begins the painful process of mourning her best friend.

So, I know I’m very focused on Jon, but I have one fic of Georgie here that’s 10/10. Post 200, Georgie and Melanie eventually goes to clean out Daisy’s cabin of Jon and Martin’s things for Basira (or something like that) and Georgie finds a journal of Jon’s that he kept whilst there. It’s just as bittersweet as you’d imagine, but it’s fantastically cathartic to read and in our MAG 200 feels, this is a good one for closure.

Not Quite Somewhere Else by hawkfurze

Or you can find it on Tumblr HERE

A special entry to finish out this section, I have a long running comic from Tumblr user @hawkfurze who made a TMA x Infinity Train crossover. While I had not watched the show previously (only seen the trailer/pilot from back before it got picked up by CN), the comic is still easy to understand and explains the Infinity Train parts in such a way as to not need any prior knowledge. I highly recommend this comic for anyone who wants a visual treat delving into the relationship and psyches of Jon and Martin as they try to escape into the next reality.

AUs

Two Graves by SupposedToBeWriting

Jon sends the fears far from Earth and flees London, leaving the others to assume the worst. He settles in a small village and opts to live there quietly until he dies, a self-imposed penance. This plan is foiled when the first former Avatar shows up - and Jon realizes that every domain-keeper in the apocalypse still has some faint connection to him.

After a year of being a shoulder to cry on for confused and distraught former Avatars, Jon leads a moderately happy life. He has a flourishing garden, a cat, and some company. All of that comes crashing around his ears (or his head) when a familiar face shows up to his cabin, demanding answers.

This fic is in my top 5 fics of TMA fandom. No contest. It has some of the best healing from MAG 200 for Jon and Martin and tbh the world I’ve seen. It’s got that incredible hurt/comfort and the ending makes me cry tears of joy every time I read it. If you read any JMart fic on this list, please read this one if you can only read one. While I was tempted to put this in a different category, this seemed like the best place to put it.

What Comes After by Mornrandir

More than a year after the apocalypse, the world is starting to move on. Georgie, Melanie, and Basira have learned to move on and get back to living their lives. Then Martin reappears- without Jon- and they have to learn to begin again.

A series based around the initial above description, each entry in the series follows the healing of first Martin, then Jon, then both of them together. While I am a Jon-centric woman, if you are of a more Martin-centric leaning, this first fic in the series should scratch that itch. The final entry is very sweet, and the second definitely has a unique reason as to why Jon shows up so late to the after-Fears party.

The Watcher’s Cows by lenioia

He still remembers the first cup of tea Martin brought him. That’s where it began, not with the dog incident. A sweet and strong blend, reasons for appearance unknown, how could it taste so good, also unknown. Jon stares at what will be the last cup between them. His miserable parting gift. Where it’ll end.

Alt Mag 200, or in a slightly kinder universe which differs by exactly one cup of tea, Martin is the one who switches plan last minute, and Jon’s last half-backed scheme, for once, works.

An AU splitting off MAG 199/200, where Jon’s plan actually happens, but instead of it being quite so bleak he finds a new path with the help of Martin. I know the original ending of the series is probably the most hopeful one realistically, but we all enjoy our fixits here, so this is a really sappy “by the power of love” Jon and Martin save the universe and still get to live in it AU. Highly highly recommend, and it finished within the last 8 months, so it’s “on the newer side” as it were. If you haven’t read it, give it a shot, and if you’ve read it and it’s been awhile now’s a good time to read it again.

The Eyespot Chronicles (series) by SupposedToBeWriting

To Martin Blackwood's surprise, he wakes up in the ruins of the Magnus Institute. He thought he would be dead. The world is back to normal, the Entities are gone, and everyone realizes that it's finally over. The only sticking point is that Jon isn't exactly the Jon that went into the apocalypse. Never one to give up, Martin is determined to make a life for himself and his boyfriend. Even if he is a giant moth.

Summary taken from the first in the series, this trilogy of fics covers Jon and Martin’s attempts at healing in a world that remembers what happened. The first fic focuses entirely on Martin’s struggles, the second on Jon’s, and the 3rd (as you might guess) focuses on them both. The series is excellent, and if you’ve got the fortitude for canon-typical emotional constipation after having just experienced MAG-200 it’s well worth the read.

Another Guest for Mr. Spider by Dribbledscribbles

Jon isn't eating his statements like he should.

Mr. Spider doesn't like it.

Written in transcript format, this AU considers the idea of what if the Web was more hands on it it’s approach to getting Jon to Become more monstrous; or at least not starve himself out. Incredible read, you need an AO3 account though. But I have never been that spooked by a Statement or encounter before I read this fic. If you DO NOT like spiders on you or in your mouth and you don’t like reading about it either, potentially hold off on this fic, or at least skip from where Mr. Spider says “Open your mouth. Do not move.” to when he says “Wash it down with this. Now.” But yeah if you didn’t get enough spider trauma from canon, this fic gives it in spades! (And if you want Mr. Spider getting his comeuppance, you get that too ;) )

Illicio by ThatOneGirlBehindYou

As the new Archivist debates between life and death, the Eye ponders on what to offer him in order to avoid an encore of the unfortunate situation with his predecessor.

-----

Gerard Keay opens his eyes at what feels like fuck-ass in the morning, inside a room with far too little space and far too much dust.

A long form AU of what if Gerry Keay was brought back by the Eye to convince Jon to stay on team Monster if you will. Goes all the way through MAG-200, has some great twists and turns, and manages to turn into an “Everyone Lives AU” as well. While it is currently updating, it’s updating every week on Saturday till it finishes, and she only has 2 chapters left. If you’ve managed to never read this, now is certainly the time for it! It is Jon/Gerry/Martin, so if that’s not your exact cup of tea I’d still say give it a shot.

we should ride this wave to shore by ClarionGlass

“archives research & statement envestigation” Timothy Stoker renamed the group “drinks drinks drinks” Timothy Stoker changed Sasha James’s nickname to saucy sash Timothy Stoker changed Martin Blackwood’s nickname to martini kart Timothy Stoker changed his nickname to stonked stonked: so how bout it lads saucy sash: oh god. A TMA group chat fic where the worst problems they have to deal with start with "h" and end with "angovers"

Right, I don’t tend to read chat fics, I’m going to be honest with you all. I have two exceptions and this is one of them. It goes interesting places, the characters are not completely OOC, if it they are at least it’s consistent OOC and not in a grating way. But in all seriousness, I recommend this because of how it ties in with MAG 160 and 200; as well as how the sequel deals with canon S5. The sequel isn’t finished and is slow to update, but I am still recommending at the very least the first one. It’s a good romp and I highly recommend.

Ask an Exec: How to Navigate Cultish Colleagues, Soul-Stealing Bosses, and the End of the World at Work by shinyopals

I've recently been unexpectedly promoted to lead a department in my organisation, wrote the anonymous emailer.

As there was no one working here when I arrived, my manager, who is head of the organisation, had promised me the choice of my own assistants. However, without warning, he simply presented me with an additional assistant. This new assistant’s first act on his first day was to let a dog into the office. It took several hours to catch and clean up after this dog and it has only been downhill from there. I admit I'm not entirely sure what to do with this assistant now I'm stuck with him. I'm hoping you have some advice?

Kind regards, New Manager

Abigail Bailey runs a successful management advice blog. One frequent contributor is from a workplace with some... issues.

While this isn’t quite an AU and is basically canon compliant, I’m putting it here because it’s a “what if Jon was an avid seeker of advice on a management advice blog?” AU. It’s beautifully formatted, and features very in character interactions. If you are a sucker for the TMA trope: how do normal people react to the weirdness at the Institute, then this is a great fic for you. I know it’s probably one of the most popular things to have hit the Jonathan Sims tag on AO3 in recent months, but this is just me reminding you all it exists and well worth the re-read.

JMart Fluff

Author CirrusGrey

Literally anything by them. I think I probably recommend them every time I talk about JMart, but I think on AO3 they are both the most prolific and one of the best writers for the tag. Pick almost any fic they’ve written for TMA and it’s probably JMart. There’s too many fics of their’s to recommend, so I’ll just link you straight to their profile and you can go swimming from there lol.

Jon’s Moving Castle by IceEckos12

Martin Blackwood may not have a perfect life, but he does have a good one. That is, until a series of magical encounters leave him with an unfortunate curse. Out of other options, he goes to the wizard who lives in the moving castle for aid.

Life never goes how he intends it to, though.

Basically Howl’s Moving Castle, but with a TMA spin. You don’t need to have seen the movie to understand what’s going on, and honestly while it sticks fairly close to the movie, it doesn’t stick so close that it feels constrained by it in places where it wouldn’t make sense in the AU they’ve set up. It’s a very sweet JMart fic with a satisfying conclusion.

The 101 Kidnappings of Jonathan Sims (and Other Inconveniences) by beetlejoos

Martin Blackwood never applies for a job at the Magnus Institute. The universe seems determined that he meets Jonathan Sims anyway. But is it Fate, or something more sinister, that keeps bringing the two of them together?

Right, this mostly crack treated seriously. It’s got hurt/comfort, but it’s fairly light hearted throughout. As one could guess by the title and description, Jon is repeatedly kidnapped and brought to wherever Martin is living/working at the time. While it’s not done yet, and not on a schedule, the chapters that are out thus far are well worth the read. That and there’s some cute fan art for it that’s linked to in the end notes. But I recommend this because it’s got that vibe of S1 Jon meets S1 Martin outside of the Institute and romance (eventually) happens. Very fun read if you haven’t read it yet.

i think we’re alone now + alone-verse (series) by milliganopen

Just a couple of guys breaking into a basement. What could go wrong?

Getting trapped in your apartment with your boss, that's what.

Season 1 re-imagined if Jon and Martin had been trapped by Jane Prentiss together.

Initially I recommended this back when we had hit MAG039/022 because it was a great AU to Martin’s Statement where Jon also gets trapped in Martin’s apartment during Martin’s no good very bad 2 weeks of worm siege. HOWEVER, the author has since continued this series and is slowly working their way through canon one season/fic at a time. They’re currently on S3, and I am definitely keeping an eye on it for whenever the next update happens. If you haven’t had the time to check it out, it’s got some very good JMart moments, and their relationship manages to move faster than a glacier.

Fate, or Something by HermaeusMora

"You can't be serious." Jonathan Sims raises his eyes at last to properly look at Georgie, expecting her to laugh and make some quip about finally getting him to put the damn book down, at least.

"Well, I am," she shoots back.

He sets his book aside and turns fully towards her, betrayal clear on his face. "A blind date, really?"

Jon makes the frankly terrible decision to go on a blind date with one Martin Blackwood. Fate ensues. AU where Jon and Georgie are still friends, Georgie likes finding dates for her friends, Martin doesn't work at the institute, and everyone is just a bit happier while canon spooky stuff goes on in the background. Takes place juuust barely pre-canon in the beginning but catches up quickly. Inspired as usual by the wonderful conversations with my friend RavenXavier/somuchbetterthanthat.

A fun AU that challenges the idea that Jon and Martin are incompatible a la MAG199. Excellently done and well worth the time to check it out.

Diary by luftballoons99

Not for the first time since they ran away together, a camera reel of all the things they don't know about one another whirs behind Martin's eyes, and he can't help but look at all the sprawling magnetic tape and wonder if they’re going to wind up a romance or a tragedy.

or: Office parties, garage bands, and the joy of being known.

A bit of a bittersweet mostly fluff oneshot focused on Jon and Martin having a night in at the Safehouse and talking about good things from their pasts. (Warning, the sequel is rated E(xplicit) for a reason, so I am only recommending Diary. Both are stand alone however.)

Weaving My Heartstrings by arms_full_of_hyacinths

At least he was someone. Someone who could deal with the spiders. That was probably the source of the nerves unspooling like magnetic tape to fill Jon’s stomach with buzzing static butterflies.

Yes, Martin was much bigger than a spider. He was probably the kind of person who cupped them in his hands and talked to them as he walked them out into the garden, which shouldn’t be giving Jon a burst of warm feeling at all, since his preferred method of spider disposal was simply to squash them on sight.

Martin likes Jon almost as much as Jon hates spiders. When a statement from an institute employee sends them spiraling into the center of a complicated web, they'll need to rely on each other if they want to make it out alive.

Bit of an odd suggestion to close us out, but this one is a fun almost episodic plot about an original Statement and the shenanigans Jon and Martin get into trying to research it. It’s very good, features some very on point S1 Jon and Martin along with a bit of a fast forward on their relationship throughout.

And with that, I’ve probably overstayed my welcome lol. I hope you found something new to read! If not, I at least hope that you had fun rereading some old faves. This has taken me a day or two to compile and format, so I hope you all enjoy in whatever capacity that ends up being! Happy end of A Mag A Day, and it was a joy walking alongside you all. Congrats to A MAG A Day blog owners on all your hard work for the last ~210 days and with this post I wish you all a very fond farewell.

#a mag a day #the magnus archives #mag 200 #tma fic rec #fic rec #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jonmartin #jmart #georgie #melanie

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mazeinthemiroh · 1 year

Note

i’m deep in my feels rn haha could i request a soft little skz reaction where their s/o puts a lot of thought into learning about their interests and stuff? i want the skzers to feel special and appreciated cos they are :(

stray kids reactions to their s/o putting effort into their interests

genre: general

word count: 0.7k

warnings: none

pls like and reblog if you enjoy! feel free to request anything <3

bangchan

channie is a workaholic and so his interests lie with what he is working on at the moment. he would absolutely love it if you took an interest in his work, and will even run you through how to compose a song, write lyrics, produce, etc... he might even let you make a song with him on the side for fun! i mean, it's not impossible. he's made a whole song on one of his lives! so doing it with you should be easy, and really makes him happy.

lee know

minho has quite a few interests but the one that dominates his heart the most is, obviously, his cats. he can't help but speculate on different toys he should buy them and whether they need any supplements or different meals. he loves taking care of his babies ;-; so when you take an interest in his fluffy children, his heart simply melts. it's definitely important to him to that you get on well with his cats because he loves them so much <///3

changbin

binnie's main interest is working out. which, of course, is not for everyone. if you are the type of person who likes the gym just as much as he does, he would love to share his time at the gym with you! if you are not the type to usually go to the gym or don't regularly work out, but still try your hardest to get involved with that interest of his, changbin will be really flattered and make sure he will help you and make your gym experience worthwhile, since you're doing such a nice thing for him.

hyunjin

hyunjin would probably appreciate his s/o doing this the most. he likes feeling understood. but also, he spends a lot of time on his passions and interests, in particular, his art so they have become really important to him. they are a part of him. so the fact you want to get involved in what he loves? he's over the moon. he would love to teach you how to do certain techniques and even share his hobby with him.

han

han loves getting into new things to watch, especially anime! forget sleeping, he's bingeing the new episodes of what he's currently watching atm. he loves it when you get involved with the shows he's watching because it means he has someone to completely rant about the plotline or openly simp over a character with someone who knows what he's on about. it makes him feel like he has a voice and he can express how passionate he feels about a character being killed off in the third episode because wtf?? he needs someone to talk about this with!!!

felix

this gamer boy would LOVE it if you joined him playing video games. he's so invested in the storylines of certain video games and will get so excited when you ask him about it and genuinely take an interest. and he will happily tell you all the things he knows. he gives you advice on what each of the characters does and which is the best character in his correct humble opinion. will be super excited to play these video games with you and will really appreciate you being interested in what he loves.

seungmin

seungmin has been getting into more artsy stuff lately. he likes photography, for instance, and likes to get outside and look at the world through a different lens other than his own eyes. he would love it if you were to join him on a little photography date uwu. ALSOOOO reading dates are totally his thing. he loves burying his head in a good book, and having you taking an interest in his hobbies means that he can share these peaceful moments with you.

jeongin

jeongin is a fashion lover. we know how well he dresses and how his style is always on point. even if you are not so keen on passion but find ways to make his interest feel understood, he will love you even more. like sometimes you will get him an expensive item of clothing or maybe even suggest going clothes shopping with him. he likes it when you ask for advice too, so he can put his fashion knowledge and expertise to good use!

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corruptedroses · 1 year

Text

— Glory, glory what a hell of a way to die

ask box open | commissions open | hit the tip jar | Patreon | masterlist

Fandom — Honkai Star Rail Pairing — Svarog/fem! reader (no pronouns used) Summary — One thing may not fit, but there are other things that can Content Warnings — fingering, size difference, robosex, dirty talk (badly), photographed during sex (pls I promise it makes sense) Word Count — 1,085 Author's note — inspired by this image, to be cross posted on ao3. I'm just horny

@teabreakpancakes

“My copulatory appendage is the size of your thigh.”

Your face burned in shock as Svarog spoke his findings, sitting across from you as if it were any conversation about things such as the weather, or maybe the situation with Clara. But no, this man — robot — had just informed you that his penis was the size of your thigh, and looking down at them, your cup rested on top of your right one between your hands, you knew that was no easy feat.

Yeah, that thing probably couldn’t fit inside of you— “I could take it.” The words came flying out of your mouth before you could even think of stopping them, feeling as your throat closed in on itself far too late. The lens of his eye flickered. ��Did you just take a picture?”

“Affirmative.”

Your face buried further into your hands, ears burning with heat as you shook with laughter. Of course he would take a photo of something like this, it was something that he would want to remember, want to bring up in conversation when he wishes to disregard something, but yet you heard his whirling, peeking through your fingers to stare at the red dot that was his eye.

“Analysing…” the robot started, your hands slowly coming down to rest back on your lap again. What was there to analyse? What was there to even look at when he couldn’t even fit his co— “analysing complete.” Knocked out of your thoughts by the robot as he leaned forward, you knew that if he could breathe, it would fan over the entirety of your face at this point, especially as he raised a hand to your cheek, almost seeming to be measuring the size of his palm to your face. “While my phallus may not fit you,” oh god, you didn’t want him to use phallus again, “my fingers can, it will, however, be a tight fit.”

As his fingers came to show themselves in front of your face, wide and thick, you blinked once, twice.

“I can work with that.”

It had taken some liquid courage and a few minutes checking that Clara wasn’t home before you found yourself on the robot’s thigh, your fingers bunched in his coat as his fingers slowly worked you open. He had been right about them being a tight fit as not only was one finger inside of you enough to make a tight squeeze but two was enough to make you gasp, your body trembling as he eased them in. Even with your slickness, even with lube, it was strange and so very cold as he slowly eased them in and out of your hole.

“Your blood pressure is elevated.” The robot said, able to feel your pulse through your throbbing, aching cunt as he teased your walls, dragging the warming metal across your insides. You were unable to speak, on the other hand, your fingers flexing against the fabric of his coat as you softly mewled and whined. It was so good, you felt so full.

His thigh pushed upwards, pushing his fingers further into you with a gasp. A flicker of his lens was made.

“You look attractive like this.” If you were of the sound mind, you would’ve taken the moment to realise that it had been an attempt of flirting, though his thumb made its way to your neglected clit, sampling some of your slick as he massaged the needy bud. “Do you enjoy this?”

“Svarog…” You barely were able to mutter, eyes squeezing shut as you melted into his hand, “keep doing that. Good.”

“Affirmative.” Even if he was a robot that required no need for sexual intercourse, you couldn’t help but note at the way he held you, almost experimental, even as he had two of his thick, long, cold fingers deep within your cunt. Every gasp, every whine, every moan that sent your face rolling forth into the fur of his jacket, they were all saved into his memory bank, all of them saved into a little folder so deep inside that it would take weeks, months to find if anyone were to compromise him. He wanted to draw out those little moans, those little whines, they were enough to send his circuits into overdrive, especially when you would call his name.

Was this what humans craved, to have someone under their submission? Svarog could only stare down at you, taking photo after photo, video after video, especially where you sat on his fingers, dirtying his metal with your sinful, lewd juices. He wanted to have this imprinted in his memory bank forever, to see you drooling, cross eyed, gasping his name.

“Do you like this?” A long dormant part of his circuit awakened, a massaging feature that a scientist had installed for long nights in the lab turned into something more sinful as he felt his thumb begin to vibrate, those low, soft moans and gasps becoming higher pitched, feeling the way you clenched around his fingers. He didn’t need an answer, even as you tilted your head back, your hips beginning to grind down on his hand.

Your heart, your pulse, it was beating faster and faster, able to hear the way it pounded in your chest as you grinded, you circled your hips, you pressed your throbbing clit against his vibrating finger. More, more, humans always wanted more, he would give you more.

He would throw you off the bouts of pleasure if it meant seeing your face, your body, contort into this pleasure over and over, skin slickened with sweat.

His free hand, the one that had rested against your spine the entire time, slowly slinked its way up your shirt, cold fingers brushing against hardened nipples that pebbled under his touch. Pinching one, he heard the way you whined, hips stuttering to a halt as you twitched and groaned, your cunt clenching around his fingers so tight like a vice as you squirted all over him.

Mission accomplished.

Slowly beginning to pull his fingers out of you, watching you gasp and whimper, his calculations saw this being the end, saw this being the only time line that could exist. But you were an anomaly in his data, especially as you stared him directly in the eye, still heaving in gulps of air as you kept a hand on his wrist, pushing his fingers back inside.

“We’re not stopping until you will fit inside me.”

Another photo saved to his memory bank.

#hsr x you #hsr smut #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail smut #hsr svarog #hsr svarog x reader #hsr svarog smut #hsr x reader #honkai star rail #svarog x y/n #hsr x y/n #svarog #star rail #oneshot smut #smut oneshot #reader insert smut #x reader smut

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faithforgottens · 1 year

Text

𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒚𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆.

from the writer’s desk: i’d tell you i started this a year ago after deciding i needed closure on post - crying on newport beach about how i’m incapable of being loved but that would mean me unloading all over the dash, and nobody needs that. i’m just a girl, out here projecting like tomorrow’s not coming, and thought i’d share. please know that i love carol, i just had to pick a character that i didn’t have strong emotional attachment to in order to play my villain. motivation to continue this would be much appreciated, thnx. summary: you’ve been stuck in carol’s web for nearly four months now, and you need a distraction before you go postal and commit a capital crime or worse, tell her you love her. fortunately for you, natasha’s willing to offer her services. contains: college!natasha x female reader —— warnings include toxic relationship dynamics that involve infidelity, gaslighting and cheating, marijuana use, alcohol consumption, nsfw content [ fingering, dirty talk ]. → inbox status: OPEN don’t repost my works anywhere.

INCOMING MESSAGE FROM — SATAN 💬 am i gonna see you tonight?

INCOMING MESSAGE FROM — SATAN 💬 :(

INCOMING MESSAGE FROM — SATAN 💬 hellllllooooooooooo??

INCOMING MESSAGE FROM — SATAN 💬 I WANNA SEE U I MISS UR PRETTY FACE

INCOMING MESSAGE FROM — SATAN 💬 pls come tonight. it would mean everything to me

You’ve never claimed to be smart.

In fact, you’re pretty sure you have to fall on the opposite end of that spectrum in order to bother showing your face tonight at the behest of Carol fuckin’ Danvers. Satan. It’s the work of the goddamn devil pulling you from the clutches of your apartment’s comfortable silence where you’d be much better off riding through the nuanced gut-punching waves of disappointing Carol guilt instead of the hell storm that is being played once again by Carol guilt. You even put on eyeliner for such an occasion, because if you’re going to get fucked over (either physically, emotionally, or both), you might as well look good doing it.

Her name’s still lighting up your phone as the Uber drops you off at the curb, boasting a flood of pictures on Snapchat that illuminate the awaiting scene inside of the frat house through blurry streaks of glass bottles and marijuana smoke and the pale expanse of her neck where a glint of her gold necklace flashes is promised to you to do as you wish, leaving behind bruises or lip prints. It’s an enticing picture painted for you. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think maybe tonight will be the night she tells you she’s free from the clutches of Maria, her perfectly sane girlfriend that you’ve only ever known through Carol’s jilted lens, and that she’ll even let you climb her like a tree in front of her friends.

Lucky you.

Except you do know better. In the pit of your stomach, you know the reality is that you are in closer proximity than Maria, which therefore makes you the most convenient piece of ass at Carol’s disposal, that Carol believes — and is likely right about how — you’re still wound tight enough around her finger to make you drop to your knees like a good little girl, blinded by her golden halo of hair and the whiskey-soaked taste of her lips and ready to excuse her shit treatment of you. That even feeling like you have her for the beat of a butterfly’s wings is worth your sanity. And despite it all, it isn’t enough to keep you away. It’s not enough to exile the parts of a masochistic heart beating in your chest that somehow loves her, even if the only part of you she loves is your willingness to show up for her.

Carol’s fraternity is co-ed, which means that between all of the brothers, their social circle extends to the farthest corners of the university — they consume a fair bit of your own, considering you have at least two classes a semester with Bucky, sit with them at Wanda’s softball games (mostly so you can talk shit about your high school ex that made the team), and rent study rooms at least once a month with Thor, Bruce, and Val to spiral into late night insanity while you all contemplate the meaning of life and attempt to memorize vocabulary words. You slip in through the door, bass thudding into your molars and the heavy blanket of smoke and sweat covers your bare shoulders as you weave your way through the house.

“Look who finally showed up!” Behind the counter in the kitchen is Sam Wilson, running position as makeshift bartender. You detour long enough for a vodka and Diet Coke, stopping next to the barstool that Bucky’s perched on. He tucks you underneath his arm for a side hug, other hand tipping his own solo cup back as he tries to drain the last bit of liquor down his throat.

They’re good friends to you. It’s why you hate doing this dance with Satan — because at some point, you feel that there’s going to be a tectonic shift between the two of you that dredges up a rift in the concrete and you don’t know who will be left on your side. You don’t know who you’ll be able to look in the eye and lie to about Carol, who would pick you over her. You don’t even know if any of them would believe you or would write you off as crazy as you’ve been writing yourself off as of late.

You tell yourself that you’re trying, goddammit, to shove that piece of yourself back into a locked drawer and enjoy the company of your friends.

“Anybody seen Danvers?” you pitch as nonchalantly as you know how, planting your elbows down onto the granite of the counter while you watch Sam mix your drink. He goes heavy on the vodka, which you quietly appreciate.

Bucky snorts. “Yeah, we’ve seen her alright.”

“She’s in the dining room trying to rally everyone into a round of strip beer pong,” Sam explains. “Last we saw, she got her shirt stuck in the chandelier.”

“The face of class, this fraternity,” you tease as Sam hands you your drink. He can’t help but laugh, a jovial, guttural noise that makes you smile, even though your stomach is currently in your throat.

You bid them farewell and snake through the living room, trying to avoid the furniture or the bodies of other people and almost always fail in avoiding both at the same time as you carve out a path to the dining room. It’s densely packed, which forebodes the game of beer pong that the boys mentioned. You try not to cut your elbows into the bones and flesh of others to make your way through, but your adrenaline is humming at the thought of seeing Carol, the thought of her body glowing in the house lights and the cut of her physique out on display for anyone, including you, to openly ogle without abandon.

“Goddamn, Danvers!” someone yells mirthfully. “Keep it in your pants!”

Whistling down to one thought, one track, your mind lasers in and you’re positive that the sharp point of your elbow nails T’Challa directly in the ribs as you finally make it to the inner lip of the circle around the dining room table. It’s desperate. You know it’s desperate. You'll care about it later, you’re sure, but for now, all that’s on your mind is her.

“For the love of fuck, I—” Someone stumbles back into you, dark hair in frizzy waves and the bill of their baseball cap nearly jabbing straight into your nose. Wanda Maximoff spins around, her eyes lightening up at the sight of you as she grabs onto your wrist to stable herself. “Oh! Hey, babe,” she says with a smile. “Didn’t know you were coming.”

“Me either,” you tell her, trying not to be blatant as you scan for Carol. “Carol didn’t tell me until last minute.”

“Boo,” Wanda pouts, before turning to yell over her shoulder, “Danvers! Fuck you!”

“Get in line!” Carol calls back, and your head locks in on where her voice comes from. Your stomach plunges into free fall when you see her: as promised, she’s standing around in her sports bra and jeans, white teeth glinting and blonde hair curling around onto her tanned shoulders, biceps on display and her arms snaked around — her.

Maria Hill, in the flesh, pressed against Carol’s side and her chin balanced on Carol’s shoulder as Carol makes a shot one-handed that successfully lands in a cup on the opposite end of the table. Carol cheers victoriously, and Maria kisses her cheek, and you notice that Carol’s hand on Maria’s side drifts down towards her ass.

All of Carol’s messages swim inside your mind, the ones where she assures you that it’s all real, that she and Hill are done, that Hill’s holding her back, that she’s felt things for you since the moment she laid eyes on you and just knew; the ones where she paints a beautiful picture of a future with you, the same picture she’s just doused in cheap spirits and ruined for the dozenth time. Your drink suddenly tastes like arsenic, heavy and uneven in your stomach, the room shrinking and heat crawling up your neck in an uncomfortable panic. You are going to be sick.

Wanda’s voice comes through in the midst of the ringing in your ears. Fuck you, Danvers.

It takes you a moment to realize that Wanda’s voice isn’t just a reverberation inside your mind, but is right in your ear. “Hey!” She calls your name again, and you finally snap your attention back to her. She scans over your face for a moment, eyebrows folding in the center of her brow. “You alright? Where’d you just go?”

The shock is fresh on your face, salt water from the crashing wave that’s irritating your eyes — you refuse to let yourself cry, here in front of everyone, because all that’s going to do is open the door to a conversation you don’t want to have, incite a fight with Carol that you’ll surely lose, leave you feeling even lower than you do at the moment. You shake your head, trying to shake whatever emotions that aren’t nonchalant off of your face. “Noth—nowhere,” you stammer, voice an octave higher than usual. Wanda’s perplexity only deepens. “More crowded than I thought. Got beer-splashed.”

Wanda breaks into a smile, seemingly buying your excuse. “C’mon, what’d you expect?” she ribs. It’s a loaded question, and if Wanda wasn’t Wanda, you’re sure it’d be enough to light your rapidly shorting fuse. The thin strain in your falsified smile must give something away, because she softens the slightest bit and wraps her arm around yours. “Let’s go downstairs. I’ll kick your ass sideways in pool.”

You appreciatively take Wanda’s out, allowing her to guide you away from the Carol show and the crowd of people you have steeled yourself in order to not cry in front of and head with her towards the basement, which the frat has renovated into a lounge space with a giant television, sectional that is infamous for its hosting of The Threesome, and the pool table. It hasn’t garnered quite the same audience that the beer pong game has, but less people means you feel slightly less suffocated. Carol’s still got her foot on your throat, but down here, it’s easier to maneuver and act as though you haven’t just had yourself made a fool in front of everyone without them knowing.

Relieved for the little things, like elbow room, you sit down on the arm of the sectional and take a long drink from your cup — if you’re going to survive the rest of the night without your tail tucking between your legs (and you’re determined to further your self-sabotage by going the extra mile to ensure Carol knows she fucked up, even though it’s likely she doesn’t care) you’ll have to be drunker than this. Wanda adjusts her hat on her head and picks up a pool cue, glancing back over her shoulder at you. “Want someone to show you how it’s done?” she teases.

You lift your cup in acknowledgment, smile shedding off of your lips. “Go for it.”

As Wanda weasels her way into the current game of pool, you do a quick intake of who all’s downstairs. There’s a few of the brothers, a few of the brother’s dates, people that are otherwise background characters designed to make campus seem at capacity but not so many people that no one would notice if you threw up in the corner or worse, started crying. You purse your lips around the rim of your solo cup, scanning the company around the pool table. Wanda sidles up next to another one of her brothers, poking her with the pool cue. “Nat!” Wanda whines. “Give me room.”

Natasha Romanoff shuffles out of the way with the roll of her eyes. “Poke me with the stick again and it’s gonna go somewhere less than ideal.”

Wanda flicks her middle finger upright before hunching around the shape of the pool cue. “You don’t scare me, Natty.”

“Your funeral.”

Your eyes follow Natasha out of the way, and she feels their weight because the next thing you know, you’re off the cliffs and deep somewhere inside the greenery of her eyes. They’re pretty eyes, you idly note, and you find yourself mulling over Natasha Romanoff, as a person, as a concept, as Natasha. She’s the oldest of the girls in the fraternity, a senior to your junior, and she’s been around for so long that it’s hard to remember a time when she wasn’t there. It’s hard to imagine a room without her in it, a constant fixture on the mantel that you don’t even bother acknowledging it anymore.

She cocks an eyebrow at you after what’s sure to be a long moment of staring, and Wanda, who is unfortunately more observant than you’d like to believe, begins laughing. “Am I interrupting this little staring contest?”

Natasha smirks. “I could win a staring contest and kick your ass at the same time, Maximoff.”

“Show off,” Wanda grumbles as she passes the pool cue over to Natasha. She then looks at you, and whatever grumpiness dissipates, her shit-eating grin returning. “Now, you on the other hand,” she preludes with a gesture towards you. “There’s no way.”

You drain the rest of your drink and discard the cup off to the side. "You talk a lot, Wan,” you inform her as you walk up to the side of the pool table. Wanda just grins as you turn to Natasha, gesturing for the pool cue. “Let me have a go.”

Natasha acquiesces and passes you the pool cue, giving you the space you need coupled with a low nod of encouragement. There are a few clusters of balls around the table and you’re trying to eye up a shot that’ll give you not only a handful of points, but will get Wanda off your back — even if you are grateful for the timing of her diversions.

Unfortunately, it’s not enough; you can still hear the laughter and music through the walls from upstairs, a raucous noise that scatters your train of thought. Is it Carol? What’s she doing? What’s she whispering into Hill’s ear? Does she know you’re even here? Does she care?

Probably not.

You take the shot without thinking, balls ricocheting off the sides of the pool table. Wanda barks out a laugh. “Really? That’s the best you’ve got?”

“Just getting warmed up,” you say stiffly, handing the pool cue off.

Wanda’s face is alight with amusement, nodding slowly as she moves around the pool table for her next shot. “Okay.”

You’re too far in your head, and you know it. You’re content to linger on the outskirts of the game while everyone else that Wanda goes about recruiting takes their turn. It’s a few minutes or an hour before the cue ends up back in your hand, like a rickety sort of clockwork that is unexpected but also entirely predictable. You assess the situation and find a decent enough angle now that the game has progressed, significantly so.

You bend over slightly, eyes fixed on a blue ten that’s not too far from the cue. Before you can make the shot, you hear someone behind you muttering. “Do it like this.”

When you glance over your shoulder, it’s Natasha, only a few inches from where you stand, hands hesitating before she reaches out. “Back up,” she guides, her hands stationing on your hips and forcing you to take a half-shuffle of a step backwards. “And lift your elbow like this.” You’re clay and she shapes you how she wishes, her touch feather light. “Okay. Now try.”

You do exactly as she says, pool cue shooting from your hand and colliding with the cue ball. The ten you’ve had your eyes on sails into the pocket without any interference.

“Nice shot, sweetheart,” Natasha says, her voice ghosting along the back of your spine. As you straighten up, you glance behind you, noticing the faint grin along the curve of her lips.

“Well that wasn’t sexual at all,” Wanda comments with a low whistle as the pool cue returns to her grip. “Do losers get laid still? I wouldn’t know.” With a toothy flash of a grin, she draws the cue back and makes another shot — you’re not entirely focused on her efforts, thanks to the gravity of Natasha’s sights still pressing deep into your skin.

Wanda talks a big enough game that she recruits nearly everyone standing around the pool shot to give it a go, which provides a window of opportunity for Natasha to brush a hand along your shoulder and steal you away. “Up for a smoke?” she asks, and you nod. You allow her to lead the way out through the basement’s French doors, slipping outside into the backyard where the sky is dotted with stars, the air smells only the slightest bit cleaner, and the music is nothing but a dull pulse from inside the house.

Natasha steers you away from the patio where other fraternity brothers and their guests are sitting around, enjoying their drinks and laughing amongst their idle, stoned conversations around the fire pit. You follow her into the grass, trailing around the side of the house until the two of you don’t have any other company aside from each other and Thor’s knockout rose bushes that he takes great pride in.

She leans up against the wall, hands fishing in the pocket of her jacket for her lighter. For someone who’s devoted the rest of their evening to shooting metaphorical (or even literal) middle fingers in Carol’s direction, you’re still too far on edge to be nonchalant about any of it. The quiet is all consuming, maddening inside of your buzzing mind. Natasha produces a joint, embers burning on the end as she lights it and brings it up to her lips. You’re left to watch as she takes a long, casual drag, a cloud of smoke billowing from her lips on the exhale. Her wrist then extends, offering the joint up; if there is such a thing as too eager, you’d be the poster child for it, the way you pluck it from her fingers and take a hit.

“Something on your mind?” she asks, her voice a low drag of gravel against the muted bass thud inside of the house. You open an eye and glance over at her, her green eyes burning holes through you as she watches.

“Eh,” you mutter half-heartedly with a shrug. “Not worth it.”

You pass the joint back to her after you take one more drag, your eyes fixed on the steady stream of smoke that you forcibly control the exit from your mouth. It’s nice to have control over something, you think, even if it is, to some degree, just seeing how long you can hold your breath.

“Seems like you could use a distraction,” Natasha comments, fingers idly rolling the joint between her fingers as smoke still curls from the tip.

You laugh, a low and guttural noise that’s passive at best. “Yeah, probably.”

Natasha turns so her entire body is facing you, and it doesn’t register, the way that she’s looking at you, until you feel her brush your hair off of your face. Your eyes fully open, somewhat surprised by the action, watching her carefully. Natasha’s a lot of things, but gentle isn’t one you’d readily associate with her. It’s almost like she’s handling you like glass, waiting for the right moment to shatter you. It’s a hiccup in your chest, a strange feeling washing over your body.

“Let me distract you, then.” She says it simply, like it’s the most logical conclusion to arrive at.

“Nat, what...”

“C’mere.” One of her hands encircles your wrist, guiding you closer. You follow wordlessly in her guidance, unsure of what she’s doing or what’s to come. She takes another hit of the joint, her eyes glowing the same way the end of the joint does, a low burning fire that seems to grow hotter the longer your eyes are connected.

The hand holding your wrist slides up your body until she’s cupping your jaw, her thumb darting across the expanse of your face to swipe across your lips in a prompt to open them. She lowers the joint, bringing her face inches away from your own as her mouth forms a perfect circle and releases smoke. You’ve shotgunned weed before, but never at such a close proximity. Natasha breathes out and you breathe in, eyes fluttering shut at the intimacy of the moment.

“Gonna let me distract you some more?” she whispers, and you barely register yourself nodding before her lips capture your own. Her mouth is plush and soft but nothing about her is gentle anymore — this is where she forces a spiderwebbing crack across your surface, the deft way in which she manipulates your lips to do exactly as she’d like, her tongue skating across the skin and opening your mouth to allow her access. You can’t help but to sigh into the kiss. She is exactly what she claims she is: a distraction, a welcome reprieve, and the golden halo around Carol’s head seems fuzzy and jilted now.

Natasha kisses you like she’s trying to set you on fire; at some point she has absconded the joint and ground out its remnants into the mulch, both her hands cupping your face as she boxes you in with her legs and adjusts the two of you so your back is now flush against the wall. “How’s this?” she murmurs against your ear, lips starting a descent down your neck that is feather light and the gentle scrape of her teeth.

“Very... very distracting,” you stammer out, fingers curling into fiery red hair.

“Good,” Natasha hums, her mouth vibrating over a particularly sensitive spot on your collarbone that causes your grip in her hair to tighten. “Pretty girl like you shouldn’t be so far in your head.”

You nod, thankful for the reward of her body pressing against yours.

“What d’you say?” Her voice ghosts over your skin, and for a moment, you’re not sure what it is she’s asking. It takes a moment, the weed and the liquor clouding your mind, but the dig of Natasha’s blunt fingernails into your hips and the graze of her teeth along your skin serves as motivation. “Huh? What d’you say, princess?”

“Thank you,” you gasp, the feeling of her mouth tightening around your skin wet and hot sending a glimmer of electricity down your spinal cord. Natasha chuckles, a dark and melodic noise that buzzes through your body.

“You’re welcome,” she croons. “’S that all you needed? Or do you need more?”

More. It’s the knee jerk response you have, the way your world has narrowed down to just her and the scent of her heady perfume and each individual curve of muscle is now flush against you. Your eyes open only to see Natasha grinning like she’s the fuckin’ devil.

Maybe you were misplaced somehow.

Natasha’s hands drag over your sides, up and down roughly as she kisses you and forces your legs farther apart so she’s able to snake one of her thighs in between them. She rucks your top up on the edges, fingers brushing over your skin in a delightful contrast to the cool evening air. Natasha is hot, her touch burning and singeing the skin wherever it moves. She’s painting you out of ashes and making you into something beautiful, something uniquely her own. Her hands slip underneath your shirt and you feel one hand trail upwards, fingers wrapping around your breast before squeezing. It elicits another tiny moan from you, which Natasha swallows down with a kiss. “Shh,” she hisses against your lips. “Be quiet.”

You arch into her touch as her fingers slip beneath the cup of your bra and pinch your nipple tight, another squeak of pleasure groaned into her mouth. It only encourages her further, the other hand of hers moving in the opposite direction. “Want me to touch you?” she whispers in your ear while you press your mouth into her shoulder, breath warm against your ear and her teeth just barely missing your earlobe. “Bet you’re not distracted now; only thing you and that pussy are thinking about is me, huh?”

“Fuck, Nat,” you mumble into her skin.

“Yeah you are,” she replies with a shit eating grin, your head tilting back until it roughly meets the back of the wall as her hand goes up your skirt.

You’d been meticulous prior to coming over, thinking on whatever lone star trailing in the sky that you’d be seducing Carol tonight; you’d purposefully worn your skimpiest pair of underwear just to show her what she could have if she was with you. It’s only when you see the look on Natasha’s face, the way her pupils dilate and her jaw slackens the slightest bit as her fingers skim in between the folds of your thigh and vulva and feels lace that you feel something resembling satisfaction. “You came ready for a distraction, princess,” she grumbles, moving your underwear to the side and swiping her fingers through what is now sheer want dripping from you. “Fuck, you’re wet.”

“N... Nat,” you whine, squirming around in the pursuit of pressure. “Touch me.”

She places the tip of her finger at your entrance, just barely teasing it in. “Ask nicely, honey.”

The words spill from your lips without thought. “Please, Nat, please touch me, fuck m—” She cuts you off as she slips her finger inside of you and you all but rocket up the side of the wall at the feeling. Her free hand, still underneath your shirt, wrestles out from beneath the fabric and is slapped over your mouth to muffle whatever noise you make.

“Thought I told you to be quiet,” she says between her gritted teeth. “Here.” She presses her index and middle fingers against your lips and you acquiesce, opening them wide enough to allow them to slip in. “Suck.”

You do as you’re told, happy to oblige as she begins to finger you. There’s nothing soft or sweet about the way she fucks you; she adds another finger and finds a steady rhythm, curling each time she’s knuckle deep inside of you just so she can be rewarded with you humming around the fingers in your mouth. It amuses her to some extent, the way her eyes have darkened and her mouth is slightly agape. She knows exactly what she’s doing, and considering how tight you are wound, you’re not going to last long.

"Clench around me, pretty girl,” she hisses amongst the other litany of dirty things she’s whispering in your ear. “Such a sweet pussy, does whatever I ask it to; what if I want this pussy all to myself? You gonna let me have it?”

You nod, Natasha withdrawing her fingers from your mouth before she hauls you in for the filthiest kiss of your life. “Fuck,” you whimper against her lips. “Yours, Nat, your pussy.”

“Yeah, I know. This is my pussy now, all tight and hot and wet and desperate just for me. This was what you needed, wasn’t it? Needed me to fuck you silly until you forget how to put one foot in front of the other.”

“Please, Nat, gonna...”

“What?” she teases, her thumb flicking across your clit and you know that she’s doomed you, mind and body barreling down a track that there is no return from. “What, baby? Use your words.”

“Gonna come,” you manage to get out, and she fucking laughs.

“‘S right,” she agrees. “Gonna make this little pussy come all over my fingers, since I’m the only one who can. That right?” You nod; her fingers tighten in your hair and pull your head back so your neck is exposed for her. “C’mon, baby, wanna see you make a mess on my hand. Come for me like a good little slut. You know you want to.” You do, you do, and everything is bordering on the edge of too much the way Natasha is sucking your neck and rubbing tight circles on your clit. “Show me who’s pussy this is. Come.”

Another few thrusts and flicks of your clit and you are gone, Natasha bringing her mouth back to yours to swallow the keens and cries of you hitting your climax. The brick wall underneath you scratches at your shirt but it is a heavenly feeling, losing control underneath Natasha. She just smiles when she pulls away and you slump into her, perfectly sated.

“That was hot,” she says with a wicked grin, pulling her fingers out of you. She doesn’t break eye contact as she brings them up to her lips, sucking your taste off of them. Her eyes alight with pleasure, a contented hum reverberating from her vocal cords. “Thanks, pretty girl.”

Beat that, Danvers.

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