a clever title here

about me

I write fanfic.

Right now, I’m focusing on Loki/Reader one shots. They’re mostly smut.

Okay, maybe they're exclusively smut.

I also suffer from periodic James Conrad brainrot.

You can find my work on Tumblr and AO3. I do not post fanfic on any other platforms at this time. Please do not repost my work on other sites.

I don't have a tag list—it’s just a little too much for me to keep up with.

I don’t take requests, but my asks/DMs are open if you want to chat!

My updates are erratic. I am a slow-ish writer and I have a small child, so it can vary quite a bit.

Since we apparently have to say this now: I do not consent to having my work uploaded to AI or chatbot software.

my fics (on Tumblr and AO3 only)

one-shots

Surrender (Loki x Female Reader)

Movie Night (Loki x Female Reader)

Overtime (One Shot Series) Overtime (Loki x Female Reader) Daylight (Loki x Female Reader)

Unraveled (Loki x Female Reader)

Safehouse (Loki x Female Reader)

A Girl Back Home (One Shot Series) Wildest Dreams (James Conrad x Female Reader) Come Back, Be Here (James Conrad x Female Reader)

Captain’s Orders (James Conrad x Female Reader)

two-shots

Close Quarters - Part 1 | Part 2 (Loki x Female Reader)

four to five shots

Conquer - (Loki x Female Reader)

multi-chapter

For not the first time, you find yourself wishing that Baran hadn’t won that grant. Baran is always winning grants—she is one of those people who is so pleasantly persuasive that you don’t even realize that she’s making a pitch for something until you’ve already signed the check and agreed to run the bake sale. It is very good that she uses this power for grant writing and not, say, starting a cult or a multi-level marketing company. Unfortunately, her most recent grant writing efforts had secured the funding necessary to send two PTMC attendings to the annual ACEP conference in Philadelphia: you and Jack Abbot.

You and Jack Abbot in a car. For almost five hours. Driving to Philadelphia.

You are kind of hoping that once you get there, he’ll have a bunch of networking stuff and briefly forget that you exist. It would be totally plausible for him to be very busy meeting up with old friends from med school or connecting with other doctors who enjoy dangerous outdoor hobbies and have a workable plan for surviving the apocalypse. You try to envision yourself sharing a meal with him, but the only scenarios you can come up with are all wildly embarrassing. Most of them seem to somehow involve you accidentally spilling an entire bowl of soup over your head, like you’re in a deeply fucked up shampoo commercial.

The soup thing probably means something weird about your psyche, but you decide that you already have enough to worry about.

“You feel the bulge in his pants” - implies that you are feeling some guy’s penis, may be sexy depending on context