[written during the DDoS attack on Ao3 in July 2023]
You keep refreshing the page, even though you know that's making things worse. You keep checking Down Detector, like watching a tea kettle boil. You're getting antsier and antsier by the minute.
You shake your fist at the screen. This has ruined your entire day. Possibly even your entire week, your entire month. What are you going to do without your favorite smutty hurt/comfort WIP?
What indeed.
"I want my AO3!" you yell. "I would do LITERALLY ANYTHING to have AO3 back!"
Suddenly, there is a flash of lightning inside your house, then a cloud of silver mist. When the mist clears, standing there is something that looks like your blorbo, completely naked.
"Howdy buckaroo," they say. "I'm here from the Internets."
"Can you fix AO3?" you ask them. "Please?"
Calling you "buckaroo" should have been your first clue what was about to happen. Instead of fixing AO3, they walk over to you and give you a big kiss. Then they grab you by the hair and shove you against your computer desk. "You said you would do literally anything to have AO3 back. So I'm going to give you a good pounding."
As much as you want to fuck your blorbo, you know somehow this is the personification of the AO3 shutdown - the avatar of an angry god - and you're not entirely thrilled with the idea that you have to in order to get AO3 back. And yet, you bend over willingly, and after a few thrusts you start to get into it, rocking your hips back as your blorbo fucks your hole, smacking, slapping, pounding, making filthy wet slurping noises.
"That's right. You with your disgusting smuts," the AO3 shutdown sneers. "I'll give you disgusting smuts IRL!"
"Yes, more!"
But even though you're enjoying being pounded in the butt, and you hope this is what will get AO3 back, a part of you is still defiant. "Who owns this ass?" the AO3 shutdown yells.
"AO3!" you yell back.
The AO3 shutdown spanks you, and then pounds you even harder.
The AO3 shutdown pounds you for hours and hours. It's the hardest, longest pounding you've ever taken. Through the haze of sexual pleasure mixed with pain, you start to hallucinate things like going outside and touching grass.
At last it's over, both of you finishing at the same time. "That was great, buckaroo," the AO3 shutdown tells you, and pats your ass before giving it a firm slap. "Till next time."
"I don't think I can take a next time."
"MUAHAHAHAHAHA!"
The AO3 shutdown disappears and after you clean up and put your pants back on, AO3 is online again. Yee haw!