#200th fic of the year!!!!!!

[rockingrobin69]

Joy

It was cold in the office. He made himself tea, more to wrap his hands around than for drinking—but it smelled nice, heavy and strong, and Draco was still a little weak willed, when it came to it. A sip, and then another, and soon his hands will be cold again. A tiny smile: not for long. It was ten to, and Harry said he’d be back by four.

Draco rolled his eyes, but the sigh still slipped. From the window he could see the last hint of sunset, a remnant in gold and pink across the edge of a darkening cloud. Could almost feel it, a tingling in his fingertips, not from the cold. From this—the office was quiet, everybody was already on leave. Just the two of them in. And the fish: all four, doing swimmingly, even though Draco had recently learned he’s been overfeeding them.

Never mind. He’s learned—quite a bit, actually. Learned how to change the water cooler (bend with your knees, not your back), how to untangle a paperclip mess (and how to string a daisy-chain of them to crown Harry with after everyone’s gone: ‘king of the workaholics’). How to type without looking at the keyboard (or at the door to Harry’s office, always open); how to politely tell someone over the phone to fuck off, how to prioritise an endless mountain of tasks, how to submit the accounting paperwork in a way that didn’t make him want to cry. How to tilt his head just enough, to say ‘Yes, Mr. Potter’ in that tone that makes Harry’s throat seize. Working in an office sure was an edifying experience. And Draco was all about the learning, now.

He took another sip—the tea’s gone cold. He’ll make another. Perhaps two, and take one to Harry, when he’s back. Watch him slide into his chair, rub his eyes on a sigh, look up at him with that little smile. ‘For me?’, and then, ‘brilliant, thank you, Draco’. Maybe even a fond little ‘oh, you’re perfect. Come have a seat? We have some time’.

They did. Everyone was home, only the two of them in, them and the fish. And the whole evening spread open, and Harry made that soup he kept threatening Draco will simply have to try. The paperwork was all done: files bound and alphabetically organised, photo-copied with colourful post-it notes on all the most important bits, made easy. Draco swallowed the smile, tried not to feel too—it was silly, but still sort of nice. Sort of—good.

The office was getting dark. Draco kept most of the lights off; only the twinkling set of fairy lights some knucklehead hung around their desk dabbed the world around him in colour. Now that the sun had set, he could barely see a thing. A cup of cold tea, a stack of paperwork. The fish tank in the corner, glowing little blue blobs, all four. Draco had been overfeeding them, but they were still swimming strong. Strong. He was weak, when it came to teas and to Harrys and to wisps of sunset still golden, nearly vanished. But he was learning. Different shades of highlighters, misbehaving staplers and never enough pens. From one copier error to the next, being a person, being here, being… Draco.

There was something to it. He didn’t know how to put it into words, sitting in the nearly-dark office, alone with the fish, but not for long. There was some sort of… bubbly, giddy feeling. Funny and a little off and a little warm. Joy, maybe.

A little end-of-the-year present for my dearest @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm. Friend, you are, quite literally, a never ending source of joy: everything you make, share, let us glimpse at, contains multitudes of it. Of life, of love, of you. Thank you. I admire you endlessly, and love you with my whole entire heart.

[melanieph321]

Here we go y'all, my 200th Ruben Dias fic!!! 🎉🎉🎉

This is a 10 part series where all chapters will be available on my Wattpad, Tumblr, and Patreon for free!

Three chapters will be released weekly where my members on Patreon will have access to all three chapters right away. However, parts 1, 2, and 3 will be available for all right away!

Now...without further ado I give you:

Ruben Dias x Reader - Summer Fling Part 1/10

Part 2 Part 3

Summary - Reader has landed a research job at a marine biology lab in Portugal. She is, therefore, staying with her sister and her sister's Portuguese boyfriend for the summer holidays. There, she meets Ruben Dias, who is on vacation with his friends after the 2024 Euros. However, the two meet under the circumstances in which Ruben believes that Reader is a prostitute.

Enjoy! ☀️

Your flight from Sydney, Australia, to Faro, Portugal, took 27 hours and 35 minutes. Yet, your jet lag from that flight lasted twice as many hours, including two bottles of melatonin drops.

"Does that stuff even work?" Your sister asked, as you unwillingly got up and out of bed to endure another nightly dose. She was occupying the bathroom upon your entry, doing her makeup, preparing for yet another night out.

"I don't know Maki, you tell me." You hissed. "It says here on the bottle that this stuff is supposed to help me fall asleep, but here I am talking to you."

"Gee, Y/N. It was just a question."

"Well, no more of those. I need to get my sleep schedule back before I start work this summer."

It wasn't by choice that you applied to a Portuguese marine biology lab to do your international research. Your sister has been living in the country for three years, as another one of her schemes to piss off your parents. Moving in with her for the summer meant free housing, a blessing for a broke student like yourself.

"Relax Y/N, you're not starting work for another week. How about you take this time to enjoy your stay here in Portugal, you know, have a bit of fun?"

"And how exactly will I do that?"

"Come with us to Albufeira."

"Us?"

"Yes, Diogo and I."

Diogo was your sister's infamous boyfriend. He was infamous for the plethora of times that he had broken up with her, only to beg for her forgiveness days later. And as always, your sister would eat it up, taking Diogo back in a heartbeat.

"He's the love of my life Y/N, get over yourself. '' She said, seeing the grimace you pulled. "Besides, he's got a job that pays well, and that's all I've ever wanted in a man."

"Wow, way to be pretentious, Maki."

"I don't even know what that means. But what I do know is that you're coming with us to Albufeira."

"No. I refuse."

"Come on, Y/N. I told mom and dad that I was looking after you this summer."

"No, I told mom and dad that I was looking after YOU this summer."

She shrugged. "Same thing."

"It's really not." 

"Yes, it is. It means that we need to stick together, through thick and thin." Your sister brought up her hand, urging you to pinky swear. You rolled your eyes but did not leave her hanging. "Through thick and thin." You nodded.

"Great!" She squealed. "Now....do you own a pair of G-strings?"

"What, no. Why would you even ask me that?"

"We're going to Albufeira baby. It's basically the Ibiza of Portugal."

"Right."

"We're gonna have so much fun!"

"Yay." You sighed, longing for the ability to sleep again. 

Part 2 Part 3

[matrixbearer2024]

Suffering

Are you really even living? Or simply surviving doctor? When had immortality turned from a blessing into a curse? More importantly, did you really even care? Or did you only care because you're now all alone?

AKA; Ford internalizing now that he's alone and invulnerable to the sands of time. The same can't be totally said for his mental state though. After all, he's only human.

Songfic based on "Suffering" by Amelie Farren written for my Time Lord Twins AU!

I'm very delulu for my AU- so have a sneak peek into Doc's future with this song fic I wrote. I have three distinct moments for Stanford as the Doctor in my timelord twins AU:

the Doctor that neglects — when he was young and was only a Doctor thanks to his PhDs

the Doctor that regrets — present, where I normally create content for him and where his blog and RP are currently situated

the Doctor that forgets — the far flung future where he outlives everybody and completely embraces being a time lord

I'll be tagging these posts accordingly, but I'd love to talk about his lore much more if you guys are interested!

The sun had long dipped below the edge of the cosmos, surrendering to the sea of stars that now spilled across the boundless sky. Within the TARDIS, Stanford stood against the vast backdrop of that eternal night, the hum of the ship's machinery a constant, soothing drone beneath the cacophony of his thoughts. The silver pill case in his hand reflected the light of a nearby console, gleaming with a sterile brightness that made his skin crawl. He turned it over between his fingers, contemplating the small white tablets that represented his fragile tether to equilibrium.

  I've thrown aside my worries, but the cares they bite me back. I'm taking twenty vitamins a day, for the iron I lack.

  Stanford grimaced, the corners of his lips pulling downward as the familiar bitterness welled up in his throat. He tilted his head back and swallowed the pills dry, feeling them scrape down his throat as if rebelling against their purpose. Sustenance without substance, that was his life now. He no longer needed food to keep going, no longer needed the simple pleasures of living— he only indulged when he could remember to, when the aching loneliness hadn’t numbed his senses entirely.

  I don't need food I don't need sleep, don't tell me that I'm wrong! I don't know what I'm doing— But can you please just play along?

  The first decade had clawed at him with relentless, gnawing grief. Each year afterward seemed to find a new way to hollow him out, chiseling deeper into the marrow of his being until there was nothing left but the echo of old anguish. He would lie awake in the captain’s chair or pace the TARDIS halls, every footfall a metronome counting out regrets. Days would bleed into each other, a palette of shadows smearing over any sense of time. He’d stopped counting birthdays after the 200th, the last one he’d shared with Stanley.

  Why count when the numbers stretched toward an infinity he wanted nothing to do with?

  My head is made of flowers, and my body made of steel. Cause I can't think— Can't hear— can't feel!

  Stanford’s fingers flexed, muscles tightening and releasing as if testing the reality of their presence. The memories surged forward like a wave, unstoppable and suffocating— hands covered in grime and ash, eyes stinging from the smoke that rose like specters around him, the taste of iron sharp on his tongue. He had touched the stars, commanded them, until they burned him to cinders. His mind was an overgrown thicket now, vines of regret and bitterness weaving through every synapse, thorned reminders of a past he could neither escape nor amend.

  When he closed his eyes, he could see them— faces etched into the void, voices calling out in anguish as they fell. Each step, each choice, stained his path with crimson guilt. He felt like a monument to grief, immovable and ever-decaying.

  They say a picture's worth a thousand words, but I disagree. I can't imagine anything Cause I can't see!

  The doctor let out a breath that shuddered its way past his chest, eyes straying to the holographic stars projected across the TARDIS library. What he once chased with fervor and ambition had turned into an unyielding prison. The titles of “healer” and “teacher”, which once filled him with pride, now felt like weights dragging him deeper into the abyss. What good was saving worlds when he couldn’t save his own heart from splintering?

  I won't break the ice though what else Is there to do? Cause suffering in silence is better—

  He could scream, tear at the walls and curse the very fabric of the universe, but he didn’t. The tears had dried up centuries ago, leaving him a stoic effigy among the whirring consoles and glowing monitors. The charade was familiar— a smile that never reached his eyes, words measured and wrapped in carefully crafted ease. He was an actor in the greatest tragedy ever told, where the curtains never fell.

  Than suffering with you.

  The doctor’s gaze dropped to the leather-bound journal resting on the armrest of his chair, untouched for days. The pages within held maps of stars, sketches of constellations, and annotations written with a frantic hand, desperate to capture even a fragment of meaning. The room around him felt cavernous, echoing with memories of Dipper’s quick wit and Mabel’s bright laughter. He could almost hear them, almost see their shadows darting between bookshelves.

  But it was only him, just him, marooned in this endless stretch of time.

  So I jumped out with a parachute, but the ground caught me off guard. Karma for the rules I break, the ones I disregard.

  The temptation to go back, to step through rifts that bent reality and visit those moments, was irresistible. He’d done it before, left the TARDIS hidden among the trees and traced the familiar paths of Gravity Falls with trembling steps. His heart would clench as he watched past versions of himself and his twin squabble over nonsense, the cheery voices of his grand niece and nephew not long to join. Their voices carrying over the wind with the kind of ease that only came before everything shattered.

  I can feel the tension rising. What fate is worse than this? Stuck between the ones I love—

  He’d watch them, hidden in the shadows of his own memories, a ghost to a life he once lived. Cosmic rules be damned. He’d listen to the echoes of their laughter until it felt like it would break him, that painful, beautiful sound that underscored just how far he’d fallen. But even then, he would not dare approach, would not dare alter a single second.

  And the ones I miss.

  Stanford’s eyes shifted to the flickering flames of the library’s fireplace, its light casting restless, dancing shadows across the room. The orange glow did little to warm the chill embedded in his bones. How many Fords, across how many dimensions, would have craved this? A sanctuary lined with knowledge and power, the respect of entire galaxies balanced on a single whispered name— ‘Doctor.’ And yet, it was all as hollow as the space between the stars.

  My head is made of shrubbery, and my body made of stone. Cause I can't for the life of me— reap what I have sown!

  He tightened his hold on the armrest, the leather creaking under his grip. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. It never should have come to this— sailing across time, trapped in a machine that hummed with its own form of loneliness, while he wore a mask that no one ever questioned. It felt like being both the sculptor and the statue, shaping and trapped by the life he’d carved out.

  They say a picture's worth a thousand words, but I disagree. I can't imagine anything, 'cause I can't see!

  The weight of immortality, once so alluring, now coiled around him like iron shackles. What did it matter if entire legions paused at the utterance of his name? What did it matter if beings far beyond human comprehension flinched at the sight of him? It meant nothing without the echoes of laughter, without the warmth of shared stories and the unspoken understanding of his family’s presence beside him.

  I won't break the ice though what else Is there to do? 'Cause suffering in silence is better—

  He filled the silence with companions, short-lived stars that burned bright and fizzled out too quickly. They were there, and then they weren’t. Time was relentless, wearing them down to memories while he stood unchanged. Each one chipped away at him, left him a little more hollow. His only true constant was Stanley, and even he didn’t know the full story. Ford wouldn’t let him, couldn’t let him see that far into the dark.

  Than suffering with you.

  The TARDIS thrummed, a soft, sympathetic sound that vibrated through his bones as if it, too, mourned the lives they’d shared and lost. Ford exhaled, the heaviness in his chest pressing down like a stone. He could carry this, he would carry this— because if there was one thing he’d learned in all these centuries, it was that some battles are never meant to be shared. Some wars are fought in silence, against an enemy that wore your face in the mirror.

  And if the burden grew too heavy, well— he was the Doctor. He would bear it alone.

  He had to.

  I try to sink and never float.

  Some days, the weight was manageable, a familiar companion that settled over him like a well-worn cloak. But tonight, the burden felt insurmountable, pressing against his chest until each breath tasted sharp, like the metallic tang of blood from battles fought too long ago to matter and yet too vivid to forget.

  Stanford’s eyes turned to the viewport, where the stars blinked back at him with their indifferent light. Once, those points of light had been symbols of promise, of adventure and uncharted paths. Now they were cold eyes watching as he drifted— an eternal voyager, bound by his own choices and the mistakes that clung to him like barnacles on a shipwreck.

  Cause my head is underwater.

  The doctor’s fingers found the edge of his sleeve, gripping it tight as though it could anchor him. The silence roared in his ears, the kind that made old wounds ache with the sharpness of fresh cuts. Memories of splintered wood and that familiar bite of ozone filled his senses. The frantic fight, the blinding light, the hole that had torn through his chest— a wound that should have marked the end. He let out a shuddering breath, feeling phantom pain coil around him like a serpent.

  I’m here by choice by my own hand.

  The most damning part was knowing that every fracture, every scar, was carved by his own hand. He’d walked into the chaos willingly, driven by an insatiable need to prove something— to whom, he couldn’t even remember anymore. A need that had led him to make choices that, at best, haunted him and, at worst, had cost him everything.

  I’m a lamb sent into slaughter.

  He ran a hand through his hair, disheveling the silver strands that had once been a youthful umber. The weight in his chest grew heavier, spreading through his limbs. He remembered the moment he’d sealed his fate with a handshake and a grin, signing away pieces of himself to a demon who promised everything and gave nothing but ruin. Even now, the jeers of that one-eyed triangle haunted the corners of his vision, mocking him with every beat of his undying heart.

  I’m aware of my own body.

  Every nerve ending screamed in protest as memories flared to life. The repair box’s nanobots— an endless legion that buzzed beneath his skin— worked tirelessly, a ceaseless reminder that he wasn’t wholly his own anymore. Some days, he could almost feel them moving, an itch he could never scratch. His hands curled into fists, knuckles turning white as he resisted the impulse to claw at the sensation, to rip it out and make it stop.

  I can feel beneath my skin.

  But he didn’t. He never did. The discipline of centuries held him captive, a slave to his own stoic facade. He swallowed hard, letting the tension dissipate as much as it ever could, settling like sediment at the bottom of his soul. The fire’s light flickered over his features, casting deep shadows that made his face look carved from stone.

  I can wash away my insecurities.

  He stood abruptly, the sudden motion sending a wave of dizziness through him. The doctor steadied himself against the back of the chair, eyes closing as he drew in a breath. The act was as much a ritual as any he performed— a way to wash the fractures of his spirit, to convince himself that he was still whole. But deep down, he knew.

  But can’t wash away my sin!

  No amount of time, no act of heroism, could ever cleanse the burgundy that stained his hands. It was a truth that gnawed at him, a constant shadow that whispered during his moments of quiet. He turned toward the shelves, running a finger over the spine of a book he’d read a hundred times but never truly absorbed. Knowledge without purpose— just like him.

  They say a picture’s worth a thousand words, but I disagree! I can’t imagine anything—

  The holographic stars in the library blinked and swirled, shifting constellations that once spoke of wonder and exploration. Now, they were a cruel reminder of all the places he’d been, all the faces he’d left behind. He raised a fist, hesitated, then let it fall to his side. He couldn’t even find the anger to break the illusion.

  Cause I can’t see!

  His vision blurred, not with tears— those had dried up long ago— but with the weight of exhaustion that pressed down on him like a vice. Every accolade, every whispered praise, fell flat, their meaning washed away by the tides of time and repetition. The applause of civilizations felt no different than the hollow sound of silence.

  I won’t break the ice though what else Is there to do?

  The cold chill crept into his veins, a familiar companion that had shared his endless nights. Yet, he dared not crack the veneer he’d cultivated— that smile, that reassuring nod. It was a mask, as impenetrable as the TARDIS walls. To break it would mean shattering the delicate balance that kept him standing.

  Cause suffering in silence is better—

  Stanford’s fingers brushed against the journal again, the touch almost reverent, as if it held the answers he’d long given up searching for. The one story he couldn’t write was his own— each word caught in the tangle of what-ifs and could-have-beens that ensnared his mind.

  Than suffering with you!

  He swallowed back the ache, pushing it down to the depths where it simmered and seethed. To bear it alone was better; it was safer. The doctor would stand, resolute and silent, a guardian of time burdened by its cruelest truths.

  And as the night deepened, the stars outside continued their silent vigil, unmoved by the man who carried the weight of universes in his lonely fractured heart.

Tell me what you think about these two! I've got more drabbles in store for them aside from the content already on both their blogs @gftimelord & @gftimelordstwin! Also posted here on Ao3!

[lovethytendytenderly]

In an effort to write more, here’s an inventory of everything I’ve written and that I’m (currently) potentially working on

Fics (ao3 link)

Melt Your Headaches - sub!Tristan/Doms!Ek+Tanger -> flashfic Tristan slips a little bit into subspace after the win

Reasons To (Not) Kiss Him - Ned/Jars -> remix fic based on the poem of the same name

When The City Goes Silent… - Ned/Jars or platonic Ned&Jars -> prompt fill: really needed a hug sort of hug - set after the er1k loss

A Little More Touch Me - Teddy/Jars -> that time Ez had me feeling horny about vamp!Jars and also that one helmet video with shirtless Teddy. The titty touch one. Featuring my uniform kink and Tristan’s pads.

Thunder and Lightning - Sidgeno -> Cute kidfic featuring getting woken up in the middle of the night by a thunderstorm.

Calling Out to You - Sidgeno - Magic au prompt meme fill. First thing I ever wrote back in 2018. I will not reread in case the urge to edit/delete is too strong.

Not!Fics

5 min goalie nesting not!fic - Ned&Jars&Blomma - platonic comfort

In The Middle - girl!Sid/Tanger/Geno ot3 threesome contractgate fic idea based on a song

Goalies That Nest Together Stay Together - Jars/Tanger + Ned/Jars goalie nesting not!fic -> Jars wants to invite Ned into his nest, Tanger reminds him that words exist

Misc Fic bits (on tumblr)

Jars/Rusty - neurodivergence, stutters, and selective mutism

Ned/Jars Addams Family Au (wip)

Flower/Tanger -> Jars/Tanger - Teaching his goalie to fight

A softer SidTanger (double fill) - Can’t stop, won’t stop, not sure how to stop (unfinished/abandoned)

Ned/Jars Scott Pilgrim Au (au idea mostly)

The Core+Fights

Misc Prompt Fills

94. Hair Brushing/Braiding + 41. First Kiss -> girl!SidGeno, SidFlowerVero, EK/Tanger

53+70: Mutual Pining+Locked in a Room - The Core (SGT) not!fic /outline

6+43: Bookshop AU+Dance of Romance - POJ/DOC not!fic/au outline

2023 Spotify Wrapped Fic Summary/Prompts

13 It’s Alright -> genfic - summary

18 Go Easy -> concussion!era SidGeno not!fic

19 + 29 -> Mattdrai - summary + not!fic - aka I don’t go here but I do know how to write hatefucking

63 Flu Game -> Flower trade angst - outline/not!fic

73 Kill the Sun -> PO&Jars (Teddy/Jars) - fic outline/not!fic

Wips (not posted)

(some of these are being actively worked on/in-progress, most of these are on hold or semi-abandoned or not started)

Cursed!Tristan - Everybody stops listening so Tristan stops talking. Aka how long can I get away with not writing dialogue (flashfic I didn’t finish and now don’t know how to finish. In progress?)

Post-game locker room caretaking - service-top!Jars/Ned - post game locker room undressing+bjs written after one of the OT games in Ned’s start streak last spring + prompt fill for long showers. (In-progress. Locker room is outlined the shower prompt fill needs editing)

Choking On His Halo - to celebrate his 200th goal Jake sucks Tristan’s strap and then gets fucked by it. (On Hold- outlined) Inspo

Celestial Bodies - SidGenoTanger -> Kris-centric body worship. Pitch: Sid is the sun, Geno the moon, Tanger the earth cradled between them. (On hold - more of a vibe than a fic)

The angst miscomm TJE fic -> Teddy/Jars/Elvis - Teddy signed with CBJ in the off-season to be with Elvis (established ot3) and Jars angsts about being the odd one out in the trio stops talking with them. (On hold and not being written cause the entirety of the planning exists in discord voice notes Ez and I spent 4 days passing back and forth Nov 2023).

Creature Comforts (parent tag all for all goalie nesting fics, sometimes omegaverse)

Flower Nesting Fic -> Sid/Flower/Tanger - Flower angsts about his last game in Pittsburgh and ends up nesting on Pittsburgh ice. He doesn’t want to pick any of the wild but Sid and Tanger just so happen to be there… (technically started this last December when Flower didn’t have a contract for this year, haven’t really thought about whether I’ll change the timeline to this season or not). (On Hold)

Jars/Tanger -> I keep coming up with established Jars/Tanger add a third to Tristan’s nest. I should write Jars/Tanged nesting or Tristan’s first nest. (early planning)

Nesting fic was inevitable -> Ned/Jars -> idk I just think Ned and Jars should nest together, maybe Ned’s first nest in the major leagues (on hold while I stare at other fics)

Omegaverse Goaliecule Heat!Fic - b!Ned/o!Jars/o!Chopper+a!Bloom (omegaverse) - set during 2023 training camp. O!Jars ends up falling a little in love with his new backups and goes into compatibility heat about. Aka “who is feral bitey omega jars topping during his nesting heat?” aka “Everyone is experiencing so much gender except Ned who’s a beta.” (On hold until I can figure out how to start it. Might just skip straight to the sex)

Jars/Tanger/EK nesting fic aka feral bitey Jars drags both EK and Tanger into his nest so they stop dancing around each other (established Jars/Tanger) aka I think Jars deserves to be the bitey center of whatever is going on with tanger/ek. EK POV, set sometime last year, probably after the goalie goal (I have one whole scene written. It’s a complete scene but still, one. Theoretically in-progress).

Crisis!Heat+Nest aka where Jars went last spring (omegaverse) -> b!Ned/o!Jars + o!Jars/Everyone (gangbang) + o!Jars/a!Tanger (pinning) - O!Tristan goes into an early crisis pre-heat right before the Rangers game and then crisis heat-heat sometime during the Devils game. There isn’t enough time left in the season for b!Ned to help Tristan through it so instead of one alpha helping him through heat over the course of several days what if all the team alphas (and betas and omegas) help Tristan over the course of a couple hours in a group gangbang in the devs visitors locker room. Don’t ask. And then a week later when they’re home in Pittsburgh Tristan hits his regularly scheduled nesting period and drags the entire team into his nest for platonic cuddling. (In progress but I’m so bad at writing smut and multiple scenes T.T) Aka

Finished/Abandoned

Magic!AU -> SidGeno not!fic/summary - Sid isn’t magic, he’s the opposite of magic until suddenly he is and has been the whole time. angst&fluff. (Finished/abandoned)

Wishbaby!AU -> SidGeno - not!fic - what if Sid and Geno both wished kids out of the sky and then just kept adopting kids and then wished more together cause seriously why do stories stop at one wishbaby? (Finished/abandoned)

Hadestown AU - this one is just vibes. Geno is Orpheus, Sid is Eurydice, Mario is Hades, Jagr is Persephone. Idk I just like rotating this one.

Fangs ficlet -> Teddy/Jars/Elvis - I wrote ficlet set in Ez’s unfinished/unpublished ot3 vamp/human/vamp coffee shop au. (Finished/unpublished)

[grelleswife]

Hi! I wanted to ask your opinion on why you enjoy Kuroshitsuji if it isn’t too much to answer. Recently I have been feeling like I’m being ‘punished’ for enjoying Kuro because I always see people talking bad about it and Yana on twitter. 😅 I am well aware Kuro has a lot of issues but I really enjoy the characters and such but the opinions of people about the series kind of has been hurting me as a fan and thus I have been losing interest🥲 I was hoping I can talk to someone who is a fan of Kuro that can help give me some mindset or something. I have been drawing for Kuro for years so I’m quite passionate towards the series and Yana herself and but this has been bugging me. If you can’t answer this it is totally okay and you can delete this ask❣️

Hi, anon! That’s not too much at all! My apologies for the late response; I wanted to make sure I could sit down to properly get my thoughts in order before answering.

My love for Kuro was originally (and is to this day) rooted in the source material. The manga and anime introduced me to some of my most beloved fictional characters, including Miss Grelle—as attested to by my url! 😉 The story instantly had me hooked with its campy hijinks, tragic undertones, and forays into the dark corners of the human psyche. Even with the current lag in pacing, I’m excited to see where the Phantomfam’s adventures take us next! And, of course, I would be remiss without mentioning the artwork. In a visual medium like manga, aesthetics can make or break your enjoyment of a series, and Kuro’s Victorian steampunk flair is perfectly suited to my tastes, especially with the steady improvement in quality as Yana’s honed her craft over the years.

However, particularly during this dry season of short chapters and plodding plot progression, it’s the community that grew up around Kuro that nourishes my love for it the most. Naysayers condescendingly sneer that the fandom is dead, but the incredible art, funny memes, awesome animations, excellent fics (some of which outshine published novels I’ve read), insightful meta and more that I see across my dash and in the tags suggest otherwise. And when we come together (such as during past fandom weeks or @anewp0tat0 ‘s recent event to celebrate the 200th chapter) that display of talent burns even brighter. As a writer, building up lore in headcanons and fic or reading my mutual’s creative interpretations of Yana’s world is just as fun—if not more so—than engaging with the actual manga. That enrichment alone is enough to keep me invested in the Kuroverse for the foreseeable future.

The series also holds considerable sentimental value for me because it served as the catalyst for my queer awakening and brought friends and loved ones into my life who I would never have met otherwise. Even if the day comes when I put Kuroshitsuji on the shelf in favor of other stories, that positive impact will remain.

However, that doesn’t mean that the series or fandom are perfect. Yana’s sleazy past and irresponsible pandering to the gross side of the fandom are an unpleasant reality with which we must contend, as are the fujoshis, transphobes, and other creeps—some of whom proved to be a genuine danger to minors—who continue to give us a bad name. But those people who blindly label Kuro as wholesale trash and accuse all fans of condoning the problematic content merely betray their simplistic, black-and-white way of thinking. We cannot and should not sweep the objectionable aspects of the series under the rug, but we can interact with Kuro critically—recognizing and calling out the areas in need of improvement while also cherishing the best parts of this cursed butler manga. As long as you’re consuming media responsibly, and in a way that doesn’t actively harm others, then you have no reason to feel guilty. You sure as heck don’t deserve to be punished!

Ignore the haters as best you can, and try to focus on what first ignited your passion for Kuro; don’t let those jerks steal your joy. 😤 Alternatively, if you need to take a break from that onslaught of negativity and just rest for a bit, that’s fine, too! There’s no shame in stepping away to recharge, and you shouldn’t push yourself to participate in fandom if doing so is detrimental to your well-being.

I’m sorry to hear that you’ve been having a tough time over on the bird app, but I hope my answer was helpful and that Kurohell can continue to be a happy, welcoming place for you! 🖤

[bradfordchens]

posted my 200th tessjoel fic on the one year anniversary of writing for them so, you could say the brainrot is going well!

[sereia1313]

Dancing in the Rain

This was the last collab I did with Raz, so it's appropriate that it's my 200th fic on Ao3. I miss you my friend, I hope you're thriving.

Summary: The Lord of the West waited for no one, yet here he was, sitting on the damp ground and staring at a run-down well, waiting. Scowling, he willed himself to get up, to give up, but he knew he wouldn’t. He would wait until his bones turned to dust, if only to see her again.

To see her smile.

Read it on Ao3, Dokuga, and FFnet.

Sneak Peek

The three years after she'd disappeared had dragged, like he'd gone through another lifetime, one without light or colour. He hadn't understood at first and had forced him through the motions of rebuilding after the death of the spider.

Rin had been placed into the care of the elder miko after leaving her to her own devices at the shiro, and she'd fainted from malnutrition. Jaken had always been the one to look after her, and Sesshoumaru had somehow forgotten that humans require more sustenance than youkai.

His jaw clenched at the memory of the old woman berating him at Rin's condition. He'd only allowed it because she'd agreed to bring his ward back to full health.

Her parting shot about what the miko's reaction would've been didn't help matters. He'd already been perseverating on the woman—it was the reason he'd neglected Rin in the first place—but the shame he'd felt because of what she would've felt was new and agonizing.

He cared about what she thought.

Because he cared about her.

[nehswritesstuffs]

Siblings of Water

If all my years of reading One Piece has taught me anything it’s A) remember minor characters, and B) always check for a shown corpse.

6211 words; set post-Wano but also pre-whatever-the-flip nonsense our lads are in at the moment; if something like this ever went down I would freaking scream and idk if anyone in a five mile radius would survive; we need more good blood-siblings in this series because as of this posting the best blood-siblings have been, like, the Ryugu royals and two sets of Wano sibs unless I’m missing someone don’t try to lie to me about any Charlotte shenanigans (though really this has the side-effect of tons of adoptive siblings/found family that are excellent and I admit I am greedy and want it all); one of the most sensible and natural real-world equivalent languages for Law to probably speak is Northern Low Saxon you can’t change my mind I’m not getting out of this chair this has little to do with the fic but it is important to me; we also need Trafalgar Family angst so here we are; this is my 200th fic on FFN and that’s not only pretty cool but my 20th fic was also my first One Piece fic and that was even well before these jokers showed up in the story so idk what that says about a lot of things

Siblings of Water; After their adventures in Wano, the Heart Pirates stumble a quiet island that holds a very jarring surprise for their captain.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“Nuh-uh; you’re coming with us,” she said. She was standing in the doorway to his cabin, completely not-caring that he was giving her an absolutely murderous look from his position reclined on his bed.

“It’s festival season—I’m not going,” he replied. He tried to look as though he was going back to the highly academic tome of Magicks and Poshuns of Wano and Her Dauters, though in reality, he was simply trying to hide a copy of Sora, Warrior of the Sea from everyone’s prying eyes.

“You were barely at any of the parties in Wano.”

“I was obliged to attend in a nominal and symbolic manner,” he countered. “I’m all festivaled out.”

“Yeah, where you were there for five minutes before wandering off.”

“I enjoy wandering.”

“Wander the festival.”

“I can’t be guaranteed there shall be other adults there.”

“We’ll be there.”

“I know.”

Narrowing her eyes, Ikkaku made an extremely executive decision and stepped into the cabin and grabbed onto Law’s ear, tugging until he closed the book and got out of the bed. She pulled him through the submarine—to the shock of all their crewmates lingering just outside in the corridor—until she had him above deck and down the gangplank and on solid ground again.

“Now, you are going to go with us to the festival, and you are going to enjoy yourself, and you aren’t going to use wandering as an excuse to make your way back here,” she demanded. The rest of the Heart Pirates watched from atop deck, wondering whose will was going to win this time.

“It still doesn’t mean I want to,” he growled.

Ikkaku crossed her arms across her chest, unfazed. “Bepo!”

“Yes, ma’am…?”

“You’re in charge of making sure Law stays out here!” she said. The bear blanched.

“Now that’s not entirely fair,” Law noted.

“It’s fair,” she reasoned. “Stay with us, you’ll be fine. Try to run away and you’re getting sat on by an ass full of fur and Electro that also happens to have you wrapped around his little claw.”

“I am not.”

“We all are and you know this.”

A beat.

“I hate you.”

“You need to touch grass more often, you weird hermit-man.”

“I just touched a lot of grass for an extended period of time, thank you.”

“More often, dweebus.” She then glanced over at the rest of the crew, who shivered in response. “Let’s go, lads! Fun awaits!”

“…but what if someone tries to steal the Tang?” Law asked. Bepo walked up to him and put a comforting paw on his shoulder.

“No one other than Ikka can get the thing started properly,” he grimaced. “Sorry, but, we’re stuck.”

“We were able to work it before she joined up.”

“That was before she made the modifications. It’s mostly anti-theft measures, but if we’re the thieves…”

“I should have left you all on Strawhat-ya’s deck like orphan puppies.”

Bepo didn’t respond to that, which only made Law sigh in resignation.

“Okay, yeah, I’d never do that.”

“Glad you’re aware.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Festivals always made Law feel extremely uncomfortable. It reminded him of a time when he would rather study than anything else, sending a searing pang of guilt ripping through his heart. It all reminded him of then, of them, and he was doing his best to seem as disaffected as possible while still trying to figure out a way to speed-chess his way back to the Tang without any repercussions.

Well, at least the beer was decent. It was actual beer at that—Wano had fine native brewing traditions, but none of them resulted in beer. Law found himself huddled over a tankard of stuff leagues better than whatever swill it was that Kaido imported as his crew held him hostage in a picnic area, with them taking up two whole tables on one end, while a band set up on the other end near a stage. Stalls boxed in the varying picnickers and festival-goers alike, which made the particular pirate captain skittish.

“Relax,” Ikkaku smirked into her own beer. It was her first; Law’s third. “You look like a cornered cat.”

“I feel like a cornered cat,” he scowled. Bepo brought over another pile of soft pretzels for the table, which Law wordlessly shambled into bits with ease. Maybe he could get away with wanting to go back in another hour… “Whatever happened to a captain’s veto?”

“It’s because the captain knows that I could have either pulled him by the ear, or the earrings.” Ikkaku popped a bit of pretzel into her mouth and nodded—not bad. “Besides, it’s quality time with just us. It’s been a while since it was just us, all together, no other weirdos in the mix.”

“Yeah, come on, Cap,” Penguin chuckled. “You know, this is why you don’t get laid.”

Shachi choked on his pretzel bite so badly that Law had to get it out.

“Can we please save talk of my non-existent love life for, oh, I don’t know: never?” Law growled.

“All I know is that you’re Emperor material and got nothing to show for it,” Penguin noted. “You could be slaying anything you wanted, as much as you wanted.”

“I hate this conversation.”

“Our captain doesn’t seem like the ‘slaying’ type, though,” Clione offered.

“I really hate this conversation.”

“Yeah,” Penguin nodded, “you’re right—we’d need to recruit whomever it is to the crew, just so they can get to know each other first, then we let them on private shore leave.”

“I swear if this conversation goes on any further I am going to put up the biggest Room I can and drop you in the ocean.”

“You’re in luck, grumpass,” Ikkaku said. She pointed at the stage. “Looks like someone’s coming up to talk—she’s got a transponder snail.” Sure enough, most of the picnic area went quiet, waiting for the person that Law was flat-out refusing to look at out of sheer principle.

“Hi everyone!” a cheery woman said into her Den Den, voice amplified by the tiny snail. “For those of you visiting today, my name is Milla, and I’m one of the island’s resident doctors and chairwoman of this year’s festival!” She paused to let people clap, during which Shachi whistled lowly.

“Oooh, she’s a cutie,” he noted.

“…and probably too smart to be taken in by your dumb ass,” Penguin chortled. The pair kept elbowing one another as the chairwoman continued.

“I just wanted to extend a very warm welcome and thank you from the rest of the committee and island to you,” she said. “Festivals are one of the things that really keeps us going here in the Grand Line, punctuating our seasons in a way that the weather is incapable of doing. It was the same in the town where I grew up, in an icy Blue far away from here, though for different reasons, of course.”

“Huh… she’s from the North?” Hakugan wondered. Despite the fact Law was the one who rolled his eyes, it was Ikkaku who replied.

“The South Blue’s cold too, you know,” she said. She patted Law’s forearm, feeling that his muscles and tendons were tight under his shirt as he held the ale tankard. “Relax.”

“Festivals… really aren’t my thing…”

“You tried that—now stop being so tense and just enjoy some time out of the fart-box.”

“Now,” the chairwoman said, “I’ll sing you a song from that sea to officially open up our festivities. It’s an old one, but it has always warmed my heart after all these years. The music’s not the same, so bear with us, please, if you heard it before. Alright! Hit it!”

The music was slow at first, haunting and eerie—something very out-of-sorts for an otherwise-bright festival. It twisted and turned and reached deep into the crowd that was barely able to contain its excitement. The Heart Pirates mostly gave the chairwoman their attention, the entire orchestra silent except for a singular violin. Then another joined in, then a piano, and finally, the chairwoman herself in words just barely familiar to the Hearts. The North dripped from her voice as she sang a ballad of old heroes and exciting tales; a song of heartbreak and death; a tale of life and what horrors it brought. After the following chorus, the orchestra picked the tempo up slightly, bringing more instruments into the fray.

“Are you alright, Captain?” Ikkaku wondered. The Heart Pirates all looked at Law and saw that he was deathly pale, as though he was sitting across from a ghost instead of Uni. His hands—always surgeon-steady—were trembling and he was chewing on his lower lip.

Adjusting slightly, Law turned so that he could see the festival chairwoman as she continued her song. His eyes went wide and his breath hitched—no… it couldn’t be…

The very image of his mother stood atop the stage.

“Law…? Hellllooooo…” Penguin waved his hand in front of his captain’s face, failing to break him from the trance. “Oh, shit, this isn’t good.”

“Do you think maybe they sang this back where he’s from?” Clione asked. The crew at-large did not know much, but they did know better than to say the White City’s name aloud.

“Why else would he behave this way?” Shachi frowned. He tried snapping his fingers next to their captain’s ear—nothing. “We’re gonna have to take evasive action if this doesn’t stop.”

Then, suddenly, Law stood up, facing the stage and the chairwoman on it. He stared at her, eyes now resolute, watching her as she finished the chorus. His standing there was not out of place, as there were still many around and in the seating areas who were milling about and moving from stalls to tables, yet there was no one else who proceeded to do what he did upon the next verse and an additional strengthening of the tempo…

...Trafalgar Law started singing.

Heart Pirates and villagers alike began to stare, wondering about how he knew this song. His crew’s jaws all dropped at the sound of his singing voice; low and clear, it was one that invoked the idea that he might have even had training at one point—when in the hell did their captain sit with a vocal coach?!

As he continued to sing, Law began to walk up towards the stage. The festival chairwoman saw him and skipped a line of verse, though quickly collected herself and pretended to beckon him up to share the microphone snail with her. They reached the chorus and the band picked up the tempo again, the song now fully becoming cheerful and vibrant and full.

“I’m sorry,” Bepo squeaked, slackjawed, “but in all my years of knowing the captain, this is the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“I think this is the weirdest thing any of us have ever seen,” Shachi replied, “and we literally just helped take down two Emperors and an authoritarian regime.”

“He’s smiling,” Ikkaku marveled. “Holy shit he’s smiling… and no one’s about to die.”

“I… don’t feel safe,” Jean Bart muttered. His smaller crewmates all unanimously agreed—there was something that did not feel right about this entire thing, as though their captain might have been in a trance, or in some grave danger.

“Oh, no, he’s dancing,” Shachi groaned. The acute sense of horror that set in amongst his and the other Hearts’ very souls was palpable. “None of this is right. They replaced the captain with a fake…”

“It might be he never found the opportunity before…?” Bepo offered.

“The opportunity to folk dance?!”

“Oh, sorry…”

One more round of the chorus and the song ended, with Law and the chairwoman laughing while taking their bow together. The Hearts watched as their captain ducked down and whispered something in the woman’s ear, her expression startled as she took him by the hand and dragged him off the stage.

“Let’s give him fifteen minutes,” Penguin decided. “If this isn’t resolved by then, we’re going to have to take evasive action and get him back to the Tang for a debrief.”

“What if she’s killed him by then?” Uni asked. Penguin shrugged.

“Maybe Straw Hat’s accepting applications…?”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Still completely stunned, Law allowed himself to be dragged throughout the backways of the festival by the chairwoman. She hid their path behind stalls and tents as she ducked into a small tent, which was occupied by some other festival officials.

“I need to question this man,” she said firmly. The other two looked at each other, then at her.

“He knew the song,” one noted. “That was a pretty neat trick you pulled.”

“Yeah, and I need to talk to him about it, because random people here just don’t know near-extinct folk songs from the North Blue,” the chairwoman frowned. The other two shrugged at that and left, promising that they would not be disturbed. Once they were out, the chairwoman muttered lowly as she drew the flaps, making it so no one saw them either.

“You know,” Law stated in Northern, “I could honestly say the same thing about you.” He watched as the chairwoman spun on her heel to look at him and he felt an intense sadness creep over him again. This woman, wearing his mother’s face, able to sing a song he hadn’t heard in over fifteen years… it was a sick joke.

“Say it again,” she demanded. “What did you say on the stage?” He exhaled heavily

“I am the Law, you are the Lam.” He watched as her face went pale at the words. “You called yourself something else though…”

“Milla—it’s what I go by thanks to… you know… our name being dangerous.” She watched as he pulled off his hat and scratched at his scalp. Tears began to form in her eyes and her voice grew strained, croaking. “I… thought I forgot what Dad looked like… but he just looked like you.”

“…and you look like Mom.”

“Really…?”

“Yeah.”

The two siblings stood there in the tent awkwardly until Law quietly opened his arms, allowing his sister to crash into a hug. They both cried as they held each other, neither wanting to let go, nor wholly believing it was real.

“Lami… I thought you died.”

“I thought you died, Law,” she replied. “I saw what was left of your classmates… the Sister’s habit… I thought you were already taken away and buried.”

“No one severely hurt me, not physically, but I did get out to the countryside in one of the carts,” he admitted quietly. “When I got back to the hospital, it was in flames, so I did what I could to survive.” He held her at arm’s length and marveled at the fact they were even there. “How did you get out?”

“There was a man who came in before the fire and took me and some of the other kids; they probably would have taken you too had you stayed,” she explained. She then hesitated, wondering how to continue. “What do you know about a place called Punk Hazard?”

“More than I should,” he said lowly.

“We were taken there by the man from the hospital. He said that he was in charge of a program under Dr. Vegapunk meant to cure us, make us better. There was a doctor on the team who knew Dad and she started on me first, since my case was the most severe.” Tears were now streaming down her face in earnest. “She took it all out of me, Law! It was as if it never happened!”

“What did she do? What happened to the rest of the children? What…?”

She shook her head.

“After it was proven I was fully cured, she was killed for the Devil Fruit power that she used to do it, and all of us kids ordered destroyed as evidence. I only survived because her son, one of the nurses, smuggled me out.” She had to brace herself by holding onto the back of a chair. “Sorry… just… the very fact you’re alive right now and we’re talking… I…”

“Lami, my name has been all over the papers—I have one of the highest current bounties of all pirates—how did you not know I was alive?”

“I read medical journals, not the newspaper,” she defended. “Close I get is my coworkers leave me the comics section.”

“I have bounty posters.”

“I have literally been here the past five years, becoming a resident doctor and pouring my heart and soul into this place. If it happened during that, then I don’t know what to tell you.”

“That’s another thing,” Law noted. “Since when were you interested in being a doctor? I last saw you when you were five and you wanted to be a unicorn when you grew up.”

Lami shifted uncomfortably. “Like I said: I thought you were dead.”

He shook his head, a laugh on his lips. “Then you’re going to love what they call me.” A newspaper caught his eye and he picked it up; yes, it was the most recent edition. He found the bounty posters hidden inside and took out his own, passing it to her. She blanched as she read it, realizing exactly what it was her brother had become.

“‘Surgeon of Death’,” she read aloud. “Then you became a doctor too…? Just like Mom and Dad…?”

“At first I really just wanted to kill and destroy as much as I could after leaving Flevance, but by the time I had been cured, something had shifted.” He then looked at Lami, eyebrow raised. “How did the doctor on Punk Hazard cure you?”

“Devil Fruit,” she shrugged. “A twitch of her fingers and she could take me apart bit by bit without it hurting. She could even take things out of me without opening me up. Never did learn what it was called… but that doesn’t matter, because the Government I’m sure has it now, having a crony use it to make Pacifistas or something equally as horrible.”

Law shook his head and quietly opened a Room that surrounded her. “I wouldn’t say that.” He disassembled her right arm and she gasped, completely taken aback. “It must have slipped from their fingers, but I hear that it ended up in good hands.” He put her back together and she started to sob uncontrollably. She didn’t even resist when he pulled her into another hug, feeling more like they were children again than anything.

Then, without warning, Lami stopped making sound.

It wasn’t as though she stopped crying—oh no, she was still sobbing, borderline violently in fact—but as far as making noise? Completely quiet. He stared at her in silence, only to realize something: the entire time they had been in the tent, there was no audible evidence that they were in the middle of a festival.

“Lami?” She looked up at him and froze, realizing what had happened.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she sniffled. “I’m usually much better at controlling that.” She cringed as her brother grew gravely serious, as though everything relied on her answer to his next question.

“Since when have you been able to use a Devil Fruit?”

“Since I was about… I don’t remember… eleven…? Twelve…? I wasn’t paying attention because I was studying while traveling—thought it was a fancy apple.” It then hit her that he got her to unknowingly out herself, to which she scowled. “How could you tell it was a Fruit and not something else?”

“The man who saved me had your Devil Fruit,” he said. Law went to the tent flaps and looked outside—he couldn’t hear a thing until he psychically stuck his head out, retreating quickly. “I had no will to live, and then… he stole me from a pretty dangerous place too.”

“Then maybe, somehow, they both knew that we had to live in order to meet one another again… to give our names back their meaning.”

Law simply held out his hand, Lami staring at it warily. “Will you come with us, then? We could use a tactical advantage like you.”

“…but I’m not good at fighting.”

“…but you are good at this.” Law gestured with both arms at the tent surrounding them. “How long is the festival?”

“Until tomorrow night.”

“Think about it—we can afford to relax for another day.” He held out his hand again. “At least come meet my crew…?”

“Later; I’ve got… oh, shit, I’ve got things to do for the festival!” Lami panicked and went to exit the tent, only for her to be met with Shachi catching them as he was walking by. He started shouting at the two of them—despite the unknown silence—with Lami backing into the tent again as he approached.

“—and furthermore—!” He paused as he stepped over the threshold of the tent, blinking in confusion. “What the hell just happened? Where’s all the noise?”

“Nagi Nagi no Mi—Calm Calm Fruit—I can literally negate noise okay bye!” Lami skirted around Shachi and ran out of the tent, the noise barrier lifting as she went. Shachi watched her leave, then stared at Law curiously.

“What was that…?”

“Long story.”

“I’ve been around you for long enough—I got time.”

“Longer than we’ve known each other.”

“That’s… a long time.”

“Indeed.” The pair walked together back to where the rest of the crew was waiting nervously, all eyeing their captain in an attempt to figure out what happened. Law downed the remainder of his beer in one go and placed the tankard back on the table. “Drank, sang, danced; I think I’ve touched enough grass to earn the right to go back to the Tang.”

“I’ll agree with that,” Ikkaku nodded. They all watched as he stormed away, stride a bit too quick for normal. “Shit—looks like someone’s going to be grumpy all night. Let’s give him a bit, then grill him good.”

“That sounds dangerous,” Bepo grimaced.

“It’s what we have available to us, or else no one is going to enjoy this festival,” she shrugged. She popped a bit of pretzel in her mouth and sighed dramatically—traveling with a bunch of men certainly was tiresome sometimes.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

The very moment that Law returned back to the Polar Tang, he went directly into his cabin and locked the door behind him. It did not matter that he literally had the entire ship to himself—only when he was inside the safety of his private quarters did he break down and allow himself to sob in earnest, curled up on his bunk and allowing himself a weakness he rarely indulged in, for what was the captain of a pirate crew except for strong?

Hours passed and Law laid there, his entire body shaking in trepidation. After all these years, all this time, his sister was alive. She was here, in the Grand Line, and alive.

Trafalgar D. Water Lami was alive.

Two of them survived.

After everything that tried to silence them over the years, they were still alive.

Fuck, he couldn’t stop thinking that word.

Alive.

Suddenly, he was restless. Law quickly stood and began pacing in his tiny cabin. Rarely had he felt as though he was going to bounce off the fucking walls, but that’s where he was, and he needed to calm down. He stopped in the middle of the room and looked at his hands, remembering what it was she had said earlier.

…I… thought I forgot what Dad looked like…

A weight dropped in his stomach.

…but he looked just like you.

Slowly, Law turned towards the mirror that was hanging in his sliver of a washroom. His mouth felt very dry all of a sudden as the face staring back at him stripped away the very thing he did his best to not address all these years. He grabbed onto his chair and shakily leaned on it—fuck, oh fuck, why did this hurt? Why was this so hard? His chest felt tight as he reached for a box sitting on a shelf, gingerly placing it on the desk before opening it. He pulled out a pair of charred eyeglass frames and shakily put them on, the thin metal burnished and lens-less, confirming everything bearing down on him. His eyesight blurred as tears distorted it, knowing that she assured him of the cruel joke that he had been terrified of all these years.

He really did look like their dad.

“Captain…?” It was Hakugan, pounding at the door, startling Law as he took the frames off in a panic. “Captain, you’ve got a visitor!”

“Don’t fuck with me,” he growled.

“That’s why Penguin sent me, because I don’t do that shit, apparently.”

Law put the eyeglass frames back in the box and placed it back in the box. He took a deep breath and opened the door, seeing the unchanging expression of his crewmate’s mask. “Who is it?”

“That lady you were singing with; she’s insisting we let her talk with you.”

“Is she in the Tang?”

“No; top deck.”

“Then I’m going to need you, Clione, and Bepo to run crowd control and make sure that no one bothers us.”

“Shachi says she’s got a Devil Fruit…”

“It’s a silencer, nothing more.” He waited until Hakugan stepped aside before heading up towards the roof of the ship. There was Lami, standing by the gangplank, a knapsack over her shoulder and a duffle bag in her hand as the rest of the crew gawked at her. Law calmly walked up to her, hearing the noise of the crew fade away as he entered her space. “That was fast.”

“They recognized you,” she said simply. “My committee members might have pulled a coup and voted to relieve me of my duties so I can go sail with my brother.”

“Do they…?”

“One says we look alike, but I don’t think that at all,” she laughed weakly. “They don’t think we’re eloping at least.”

“Well, that’s good,” he shuddered. He could feel a presence behind him, who he knew to be Bepo not only due to Haki and long-friendship with the bear, but also due to the way his sister’s eyes lit up. “What is it, Bepo?”

“I’m sorry, but, what’s going on…?”

“Oh, yeah, the rest of you are here,” Law frowned. He turned towards the rest of the crew and motioned towards Lami. “She’s staying.”

“Uh… Captain…?” Shachi said warily. “Why is the island’s festival chairwoman staying?”

“Lami’s staying with us for a while,” Law stated, leaving no further room for comment. “Ikkaku, it looks like you’re getting a women’s quarters after all.”

“Yes!” the aforementioned engineer grinned as she pumped her fist. “Keep asking and good things will come!”

“You know that, statistically-speaking, it was only a matter of time before another woman started traveling with us,” Uni stated. “Women are half the world.”

“Yeah, but for some reason there’s only a fraction of us on the seas, let alone the Grand Line,” she fired back. “So, Lami, was it? You and I need to talk about how we’re going to build this room, because it’s going to be a very important haven when these dweebs start doing shit like running around naked on laundry day or when they decide to induce shedding on Bepo or start playing Rivet, Rivet, Better Skip It…”

“You’re just jealous that you never win because you suck,” Penguin smirked.

“I ‘suck’ because, reportedly, ‘fuck you’,” Ikkaku sneered, using liberal amounts of air-quotes. She then grabbed onto Lami’s upper arm and pulled her along, disappearing into the bowels of the Tang. The rest of the crew simply stared at Law.

“I thought we were only really recruiting people from the North Blue,” Uni mentioned. “Y’know, barring Bepo and Jean Bart.”

“She is.”

“She knew a song, Captain—that doesn’t prove anything.”

“It proves more than you know.”

“Was she from Flevance?” Everyone looked over at Jean Bart, who seemed reserved in his accusation, making the large man seem so incredibly timid. No one else said a word, instead turning their attention towards their captain.

Instead of responding verbally, Law simply went down beneath the deck, finding where Ikkaku had dragged Lami off to; they were in the mess hall, the former having pulled out an impressive set of schematics that were boggling the younger’s mind.

“You sure you’re alright like this?” he asked. She glanced up at him, very clearly as though she knew the blueprints were over her head.

“I think so…” She ran her fingers over a cutaway illustration and her brow furrowed. “I can do complicated surgeries and can identify any humanoid organ by sight alone, but this…”

“She’s like a surgeon, but for a ship, in a way,” Law shrugged. “What we do with people, she does with metal.”

“Then you’re also a doctor?” Ikkaku noted. “Nice. You and the captain will make a good team then.” She waggled her eyes at Law, who scowled at her grouchily.

“Lami is my sister,” he said, deciding to cut that off at the bud. Ikkaku froze in place, letting the information wash over her before slowly nodding.

“Does anyone else know this?”

“No.”

“Is anyone else allowed to know this?”

“The crew is, yeah, but remember: they are a bunch of dumbasses.”

“True enough.” She then glanced over at Lami, who seemed to be flushing pink in embarrassment. “Anything else I need to know about?”

“I ate a Devil Fruit that makes everything quiet and I love reading Sora, Warrior of the Sea and festivals are literally my favorite thing ever and have been since I was little.”

“That actually explains a lot,” Ikkaku chuckled. She gave Law a shit-eating grin, one that sent a chill down his spine. “Don’t worry, Captain; we’ll take care of your little sister, not a problem.”

“LITTLE SISTER?!”

The three turned towards the doorway to find the rest of the crew standing by the mess hall’s entrance, jaws dropped in astonishment. Penguin and Shachi were so moved, even, that they both started crying.

“You came through for us and got the crew a cute little sister after all!” Shachi sobbed.

“Yeah, Captain! We’ll treat her just as we would our own little sister!” Penguin added tearfully.

“Neither of you have a sister, which begs many a question,” Law deadpanned.

“Not to mention how in the hell they’ve been treating me all these years,” Ikkaku griped. Lami went and surprised them both, along with the entire rest of the crew, by going between them and bowing at the waist.

“Thank you for taking such good care of my brother all these years!” she said. When she straightened, her eyes were glassy and red-rimmed. “It’s been my dream to find someone from Flevance again, and for it to be my brother… you have no idea what it means to me!”

“Big brothers are the best, aren’t they?” Bepo asked cheerfully. Lami mirrored his smile despite the tears leaking down her face.

“They really are! Especially when you haven’t seen them in a long time!”

Bepo brought Lami into a tight hug and the rest of the Hearts cheered—a new younger sister! The captain’s younger sister at that! Things really were looking up.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Pudding had long ago accepted the fact that she was a hostage, waiting to be rescued. In fact, she was perfectly fine with the idea that she was perfectly helpless until at least one of her siblings arrived. Was it going to be an enjoyable reunion? Probably not. What she also knew, however, was that the two men that made up her guard were complete and utter thugs.

“Mommy’s dead—she ain’t gonna help ya,” the guard on the left grinned. She felt the undying urge to take a shower just from him looking at her.

“I have more powerful people behind me than just my mother, if you’re that set on her dying,” she huffed. “Katakuri is a very protective older brother, I’ll have you know.”

“If he can bother hunting down one little lamb while the rest of the flock is panicking in the power vacuum?” Right chuckled. “I doubt. Mommy and Uncle Kaido kinda played into our commodore’s hands.”

“Hmm… I doubt.”

“Oh, you’re gonna doubt a lot of shit once the commodore’s done with you, girlie,” Left chortled.

Ugh. So fucking cringe.

Just then, Pudding noticed that as the two guards moved to better face—and therefore better taunt—her, two women came into view. One with curly hair and the other with hair pulled back in a neat bun, they both were motioning for her to keep quiet. Neither of them seemed to give off the same vibe as the rest of the crew, so Pudding decided to play along. Well, how bad could it get?

“Uh-huh, sure, as though he’d even know what to do with me.”

Without making a sound, both women moved behind the guards, the one with the curly hair hitting them in the back of the head with an oversized wrench to knock them out. The other woman grabbed the keys and unlocked the cell, the keys refusing to make even a single clinking noise. She approached Pudding and touched her pointer and middle finger to the teen’s lips before beginning to work on the restraints.

“Charlotte Pudding, I presume?”

“…and to whom do I owe this rescue?” she asked. “You don’t look like you’re from the Family.”

“Let’s just say we don’t think that a cute kid like you should be with these gross molesters-in-waiting,” the curly-haired woman smirked. She gave Pudding a wink, then a pistol. “I’m Ikkaku, this is Lami. Our captain’s providing us a distraction as we speak.”

“…and how do I know that I’m not walking right from one den of crazies into another?” Pudding asked. The two older women glanced at each other and shrugged.

“I swear on my belching metal baby, the Polar Tang, that we’re actually pretty decent,” Ikkaku claimed.

“…and I swear on my Hippocratic Oath that I would not do anything to provoke harm, nor allow senseless acts to be committed towards anyone under my care, which you now are,” Lami stated.

“So, really, we’re weird, but in an ‘everyone is weird’ sense,” Ikkaku shrugged, “or a ‘our gruff captain is a secret comic book nerd’ sort of sense.”

“I have over eighty siblings—I think I can handle that,” Pudding deadpanned. She tied up her skirt and turned all three eyes towards her rescuers. “Want to cause some trouble on the way out?”

“You sure that’s fine to do with the crew of your mother’s killer?” Ikkaku wondered, eyebrow raised. Pudding simply shrugged.

“It’s either cause some trouble with you two, or…” she grimaced at the sight of her prior jailers, “I get into trouble with these guys. My options aren’t exactly great right now.”

“Then maybe it’s a good thing that we put extra bunks in the women’s quarters after all,” Lami nodded. She then quickly looked over Pudding with a glance—they didn’t hurt you, did they?”

“No…” The young Charlotte looked at her rescuers cautiously. “You seem pretty calm.”

“Regarding what?” Ikkaku asked. An explosion went off on the other side of the wall, shaking the room they were in. “That’s just the rest of the losers we sail with—nothing more.”

“No, I mean…” She hesitated, not really knowing how to broach the topic she kept so long a secret. “You aren’t freaked out over my eyes.”

“I’m literally one of two known survivors of a mass poisoning event that everyone else thought was a plague, so you’re in luck: we know what it’s like to be stared at by assholes,” Lami shrugged. “Besides, that eye of yours reads Poneglyphs, correct?”

“Supposedly…”

“Then you’re going to love what we’ve got waiting for you.” Lami gestured towards the door with her head as another rumble shook them, though not quite as violently. “How ‘bout it? Prove to your family you can do something without them?”

“…and what makes you think I have that sort of family…?”

“You said it yourself, kid: you’ve got over eighty siblings.” Ikkaku nervously eyed what she hoped was not the ballast tank and laughed awkwardly. “C’mon ladies, we should really get out of here before our cover’s blown!”

Another rumble rocked the ship and the three got going, headed back towards the miniature docking sub and away from the mess. They got out and Ikkaku sent a pulse through the water, letting Shachi and Penguin know it was alright to begin attacking the ship in earnest.

Mission accomplished.

[casualbirdscribbles]

casualbird's fanfic ouvre, by the numbers

so i recently published my 200th fic to ao3! wow i have too much time on my hands.

i knew, of course, that there were trends in my work, because of long-running brainworms, but i was curious to see how it actually figured out. thus: a statistical analysis of my fanfiction body of work.

first off: Percent Pornography

ao3 says that i have 114 explicit fics--but that's not entirely representative. i did kinktober one year, and posted each day as a new chapter of the same fic. however, each fic stands alone--so i actually have thirty more fics than ao3 says i do, and all of those are explicit.

thus, we have 144 explicit fics out of 230, which is 62.6%. a respectable ratio.

secondly: Transgenderification Beam

i write a lot of trans characters, so here's a breakdown of how many of my fics include at least one trans character.

ao3 says that i have 49 fics tagged 'trans character,' but again, we'll have to adjust for my 2019 kinktober project, which included a lot of trans porn.

accounting for kinktober, i have 61 fics that include at least one trans character, which is 26.5%.

this one might be a bit off because i'm not always consistent in how i tag for trans characters, but it works as a rough estimate.

thirdly, (Muffled Fire Emblem Series Theme Playing In The Distance)

i... like fire emblem. it's been my Fandom Of Center for like, ten years. but how Much do i like fire emblem?

taking my kinktober project, which was entirely fe3h fic, into account, it's a staggering 96 fics--which means that fire emblem fic makes up 41.7% of my body of work.

wow. i'm a weeb for real.

finally: Let's Go Lesbians

this is an area in which i'm admittedly seriously lacking. ao3 says i have 7 fics tagged f/f, 9 counting all of my kinktober work. that makes a paltry 3.91%.

those can be described as ROOKIE NUMBERS. gotta pump those numbers up.

i suppose that that can be a goal for my next 200 fics--i'm not planning on stopping anytime soon!

[majormiles]

the next fic i post on ao3 will be my 200th, i feel like i should maybe ?? make it a bit special or something?

im trying to think of all the things ive been itching to write for years but never done but rn my brain is blank lol. any ideas??

[pomegranate-belle]

7, 10 and 13 for the AO3 writers wrapped ask game?

7. Share a line/paragraph/snippet that you were especially proud of from a work this year!

I already answered this one with a different snippet but I’m never too humble to toot my own horn. Here’s a bit from Odds Are that I found incredibly funny:

The world was a coin hanging in the air — heads or tails, Matt? Heads or tails? A gamble. A choice. But if he was going to go around calling himself Daredevil, he might as well live up to the name and go all in.

“Foggy, I want you.”

For a beat, his heart hung over a precipice.

“Like… Biblically?”

10. What are your writing goals for the upcoming year?

It hopefully shouldn’t be too difficult considering I’m at 192 now, but I’d like to post my 200th work on AO3. I’d also like to finish at least one of my WIPs, lol

13. What fic are you most excited to post in the upcoming year?

Answered this one already here.

[x-neurotoxin-x]

heyo! i was waiting to send this after you post your 200th fic. well. 201th lol

i have been following your work since the very beginnings of your first fic. it has been astounding to see your skill in writing progress and how differently you've written dabi over the years. it's hard to believe that you once wrote him with only red hair lmao.

congratulations on your 200th fic! it's been a long journey for you, and it's been a pleasure to be a part of it.

-ailingAves/vjored on ao3

Omg thank you!! This is so nice, I'm flattered! <33

[banannabethchase]

Steady Love - also on AO3

~

Adam, with Nick as his roommate, starts off his sophomore year of college with a crush, actual friends and a whole lot of shenanigans. He ends it with, somehow, more.

~

Welcome to my 300th fic on AO3! I decided to combine elements of my 1st, 100th, and 200th fic on AO3 to create this one, and thus, a college AU involving 5 of my all time favorite ships across 3 of my most special fandoms. I hope you enjoy this continuation of The Rumor of Us for those of us who remember me from back then, and the continuation of the Quintis College AU I briefly wrote. Title from Look After You by The Fray, one of my all time favorite romantic songs.

~

“Page!”

Adam turns to see Nick throwing the basketball at him. He catches it and dribbles around the other team’s defense, which isn’t that impressive knowing who the defense is, and shoots.

The ball bounces off the rim and toward Nick, who makes the save and a three pointer.

“Yes!” Nick yells, dropping to his knees with his fists in the air. “I’m the effing king of this!”

Adam walks over and shoves Nick to the side with his foot. “Lucky shot,” Adam says, grinning down at him.

“Was not!” Nick scrambles to his feet. “I’ve been practicing my three pointers all summer.” He nudges Adam in the shoulder. “Anyway, we’re basically out of time for the gym. We only booked an hour.”

Adam checks the time on his phone. “Damn it,” he mutters.

“Are we done or something?” Toby asks. “Please say we’re done.”

“Wimp,” Happy says, grinning. “You don’t have to play next time, you know. I think I’d do better if you weren’t on my team”

“I do have to play!” Toby says, scrambling after Happy as she steps toward her bag on the side of the court. Adam’s kind of baffled he missed the insult entirely. “I have to make sure you don’t get yourself killed.”

“Toby, let’s be real here,” Happy says. “The only reason I play basketball is because you made me socialize with people other than you and the rest of the Cyclone, and you decided your roommate’s weird brother was the right call. You’re just mad I’m doing better with these friends than you are.”

Toby pouts. “Hey!”

“And I am not the weird one here,” Nick says.

“Bye, y’all,” Happy says, grinning over her shoulder. “C’mon, Curtis, to the showers.”

Adam rolls his eyes as Toby’s pout turns into unshielded excitement. They scamper away.

“They’re really weird,” Adam muses, dribbling the ball absently. “I like them.”

“Right?” Nick says. “Toby’s a TA, but he’s our age. He skipped a bunch of grades.”

“That explains some of the,” Adam shoots the ball and misses, pausing to find the right words, “socially awkward moments.”

“No kidding,” Nick says. He chases after the ball and chucks it back at Adam, who manages to make the three pointer this time. “There you go, dude. I knew you could do it.”

“It’s because he’s tall.”

Adam turns at a voice that makes his entire body light up. “Matt!” he says, trying to hold back before getting too weird. “Hi.”

Nick glances over at his brother. “What the eff are you doing here?” he asks, bouncing the ball. Adam fights the urge to tell him to shut up.

“You always make fun of me for not being able to play,” Matt says. He looks incredible; Adam’s never seen him in basketball shorts and a tank top. “So I figured I’d come and learn from the self-proclaimed best this year.”

Nick rolls his eyes. “You have awful timing. We only rented the court until five.”

Matt shrugs. “So, like, rent another hour?”

“That’s not how it works.” Nick belts Matt with the basketball, and Adam is impressed that Matt at least can catch it. He doesn’t dribble though. He just holds it in his hands. “Somebody else will have rented it out.”

“We could ask to share,” Matt says. With a quick flick of his eyes, he chucks the ball in Adam’s direction. Adam has to jump a little, feeling his shirt fly up as he does do, but he manages to catch the ball.

“You can’t – Matt, go away.”

“No!” Adam says. Matt and Nick look at him. “I mean, we could go to the outdoor hoops, right?”

“It’s ninety seven degrees outside,” Nick deadpans. “Let’s just go do something else.”

“Can I shower first?” Adam asks, wrinkling his nose. “I’m all gross.”

“I’m sure you’re fine,” Matt says, waving him off. “Dining hall should be serving dinner by now.”

“It’s five o’clock,” Nick says. “We – really?”

Matt shrugs. “I’m hungry.”

“Me, too,” Adam adds.

Nick sighs. “Whatever. Fine. Dinner.”

“I hope they have the pasta bar this time,” Matt says. And Adam knows, in that moment, with that smile Matt throws him, he’s doomed.

Matt flounces off to the pasta bar, almost skipping.

“Dude,” Nick says, elbowing Adam. “What is your deal?”

“Deal?” Adam asks, trying to keep himself from blushing. “There’s no deal. I’m – why?”

Nick stares at him. “You’ve hung out with Matt before and never been this twitchy.” He study’s Adam’s face. “Do you have a crush on my brother?”

“No.”

Nick’s expression goes from curious to annoyed. “You have a crush on my brother,” he says, definitively. “Oh, my god.”

“I – don’t!” Adam says. “And shush.”

“If you don’t have a crush on him, then I can say it as loud as I want.”

“No!” Adam says. “Damn it. Just – don’t tell him.”

“Are you gonna tell him?” Nick asks.

Adam presses his lips together and shrugs. “Maybe? I don’t know. I don’t…yeah.”

Nick sighs so deeply his shoulders slump. “If you make him cry, I have to kill you, you know that, right?”

“What?” Adam asks. “I’m your roommate!”

“Roommate and friend always comes second to brother,” Nick says, shrugging. “It’s biological. I am genetically wired to care about that dumbass.”

They look over, where Matt is very possibly flirting with the cook making the pasta, from the way he’s smiling and leaning against the counter. Adam can’t decide if he’s jealous or distracted by how good Matt’s butt looks in his shorts.

“Believe me,” Nick says, grabbing a slice of pizza, “I am the most annoyed about it.”

They grab some extra fruit and vegetables, because Adam’s mom’s voice is always in his head, and they find a small table near the hydroponics station.

“You ever get tempted to, like, grab a leaf of lettuce off of there and eat it?” Nick asks, shoving half the slice of pizza in his mouth.

Adam blinks. “No, but I am sort of fascinated at your impulse to eat public leaves.”

“They’re not public leaves!” Nick scoffs. “It’s lettuce grown by the college, and I pay tuition, so they are my leaves.”

Adam nearly stops breathing when Matt sits down next to him, like he doesn’t care Adam’s covered in sweat and his hair is a wreck. His heart is racing as Matt flashes him a smile.

“The pasta guy is really nice,” Matt says, mixing what appears to be something with vegetables and pesto. He shoves a giant forkful in his mouth and makes a face so pleased Adam has to turn away and take an unreasonably huge bite of pizza. “And he gave me extra pesto.”

“Yeah, because you were flirting with him,” Nick says, rolling his eyes. “God, you’re worse than Piper at that one party.”

“Am not!” Matt argues.

“The one when she stole all that toilet paper last year?” Adam asks, once he’s swallowed the pizza. “That was hilarious.”

“I was not flirting with him,” Matt says, and Adam doesn’t miss the way he flicks his eyes toward him. “Shut up. Eat your pizza, Nick.”

“Don’t tell me what to do!”

Adam snickers as the two of them bicker back and forth, finishing most of his plate before they get under control. Matt’s got his lower lip stuck out, Nick’s glaring, and Adam, mostly, is entertained.

“Are you two done?” he asks, because he wants to know what happens next.

~

By the start of September, Matt’s been to every single basketball court hour that they’ve had, and Adam is…technically handling it. The amount of times Matt has pulled off his shirt mid-game and Adam either missed a pass or immediately fell over is in the double digits.

He’s regaling his friends in class with the most recent story of Matt making a moaning noise during stretching when Annabeth and Piper both begin laughing at him mid-lecture, which feels excessive.

“Oh you legit like him,” Piper says, with a sharkish grin. “Pro tip? Act on it now. Otherwise you’re fucked like me and Reyna for the first semester of school.”

“Based on what I’ve heard before I’ve knocked,” Annabeth says, flipping to the right page in her notes, “nobody fucks like the two of you, but okay.”

Adam laughs as Piper rolls her eyes and slumps into her seat. “You all suck,” she grumbles.

They pass notes and tease each other through the lecture, which Adam would feel bad about but he scored a 95% on the first anthropology test and was only outscored by Annabeth, so he figures he’s fine.

Annabeth pokes him in the ribs when he snickers at a sex joke Piper makes.

“They’re going to hear you,” Annabeth says, scrolling her phone with one hand and taking notes with the other. “He’s not even using a mic now. And I really don’t want to get yelled at.”

“You’re on your phone looking up – oh, my god.” Adam leans back. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t see you putting lingerie in your cart.”

Annabeth smirks and shrugs. “Don’t look at my phone screen next time.”

By the time class is over, Adam knows he’ll be begging Annabeth for a copy of her notes, but he’s in good spirits to go for their basketball time.

“I gotta go,” he says, smiling at the two of them. “Basketball hour, you know.”

Piper immediately starts making kissy faces.

“It’s just basketball!” Adam says, suddenly wishing his hair was down to cover his likely pink ears. “He needs help with it.”

“You know what he needs?” Piper says, grinning.

“Don’t say it,” Annabeth says. “It’s a cheap joke.”

“He needs your dick.”

Annabeth and Adam sigh in tandem while Piper cackles.

“One of these days I’m going to tell on you to Reyna,” Annabeth grumbles.

“About what?”

“Bad sex jokes,” Adam offers. “Making fun of me.”

Piper scoffs. “She likes it when I do that. Reyna loves my stupid jokes.”

“Yeah, if you guys do go abroad,” Annabeth asks, adjusting her backpack on her shoulder, “you’ll have to learn a whole new language to make sex jokes in.”

Piper wrinkles her nose. “Reyna really wants to, but I’m not sure. She’s looking at France.”

“I’m sure there’s sex jokes in French,” Adam says, shoving his books in his backpacks. “Or you could just say ‘oui oui’ all the time and look like a dork.”

“Coming from you, that’s great.” Piper hits him on the arm with her notebook, grinning. “Go play homoerotic sports with your future boyfriend.”

~

The first set of tests by the second week of September hit, and Adam realizes he has a little collection of friends that makes him feel cozy, but a bit confused. He’s not exactly sure when his and Nick’s dorm room became the place where everybody hangs out, but he keeps trying to hide things like his teddy bear and his dirty clothes while Kenny and Piper try to kill each other in Street Fighter.

What’s even more difficult to manage, though, is Matt, sitting right next to him. On his bed. While Nick keeps glancing at him. Adam thinks that’s silly, because Happy and Toby are quite literally making out on top of his desk.

“Where’s Annabeth?” Reyna asks, yawning. “She and I have that Chem lab in the morning and I really want to go over our methodology.”

“Lame,” Piper says, twisting the controller and immediately killing Kenny’s character. Adam thinks that’s impressive, based on Kenny’s shriek of horror. “She and Percy are out on a date. She’ll be back soon.”

Reyna sighs. “She forgot to tell me. Jerk.”

“That’s because I was supposed to tell you, and I forgot, because I’m beating this wimp’s ass at every video game possible,” Piper says. She claps Kenny on the shoulder. “Actually, victory makes me horny. Reyna?”

Reyna snorts, but she jumps to her feet. “Why did I expect anything else?”

Piper throws a grin over her shoulder, short blue hair flying everywhere. “Later, nerds.”

Kenny’s still staring at the screen, open mouthed and miserable. “She beat me,” he says, horrified. He turns to Nick. “Why’d you – I brought my console here just so she could beat me?!”

“Piper’s weird, man,” Happy says, shrugging as she pulls away from Toby. Toby still looks super dazed. “Blame Adam. He’s the one who became best friends with her first or whatever.”

“Hey!” Adam says. He’s still trying to deal with the fact that Matt is pressed up against him. “She’s your friend, too.”

“That is beside the point,” Nick says, sliding to the floor. “Scoot over, Kenny. You can beat me.”

“It’s not the same if you let me beat you,” Kenny grumbles. “But, since you suck, I’d beat you anyway.” He hands Nick the controller.

“Hey, Hap?” Toby says, playing with the edge of her tee shirt. Adam rolls his eyes, meeting Matt’s in a knowing grin.

“What?”

“Your roommate’s out, right?”

She snickers. “God, you’re predictable.” She waves at them. “Later, everybody.”

The room is quieter, less intense now that it’s only the four of them, and Adam can feel Matt relax into his side. Nick and Kenny are fervently battling each other. Adam feels like this is a good moment. For what, he’s not sure.

“So,” Adam says, picking at a frayed end on the hem of his shirt. “How’re classes going for you?”

“Great!” Matt says, sending that megawatt smile in Adam’s direction. “Well. Pretty good, at least.”

“Only pretty good?” Adam asks.

“Yeah, math is kicking my butt,” Matt says, sighing. “I’m an ed major, so I have to take a class on how to teach math, which would probably be fine if I could memorize all the stupid vocabulary words.”

“I, um. I can tutor you, if you want.”

Matt turns to him. “You can?”

Adam nods. “I had a whole business in high school about it, but you’re my friend so I wouldn’t charge.” He smiles. “That sound good?”

Matt nods so hard his ponytail slips out. “Yeah!”

Adam leans behind.

“What are you doing?” Matt asks. He’s still smiling, though, so Adam thinks he’s in the clear.

“Oh,” Adam says, picking up the hair tie. “This fell out when you were nodding.”

Matt flushes the cutest pink Adam’s ever seen. “Thanks,” he says. Adam watches, probably too closely, as Matt ties his hair back up.

“So, um, how about tomorrow morning?” Adam asks. When he rests his hand on the bed next to Matt’s, the dip of the mattress makes his hand slide on top of Matt’s. Neither of them move. “For tutoring, I mean.”

Matt nods. “Yeah. That sounds good.”

Nick flicks his gaze over at Matt and Adam, frowns, and opens his mouth. But Kenny’s screaming in victory before he can say anything.

“Oh, that’s how it goes, baby!” Kenny yells. “Victory doesn’t make me horny, but it does make me hungry. Anybody want to go pick up pizza?”

They do. They get pizza and sodas and bring them back to the dorm room. Kenny and Nick hang in Nick’s bed while Matt’s with Adam on his.

Adam feels like he may just combust.

They put on Five Nights at Freddy’s, which Kenny insists will be good because of the game it’s based on, but Adam’s a little hesitant.

“They’re giant toys, Kenny,” Adam says. “How could they possibly be scary?”

An hour later, Adam is more than pleased that it’s actually scary, because Matt’s buried his face into Adam’s chest and is halfway in his lap. He exchanges a glance with Nick. And gets a smile back.

Kenny and Matt sleep over. And Adam thinks this might be what college is supposed to feel like.

~

Matt and Kenny leave after they get breakfast in the morning, but Matt reminds Adam of their tutoring date before he leaves.

“I’ll stop by around one?” Matt asks. “You know. Since we slept in.”

Adam nods. “Yeah, I gotta shower.”

Matt makes an interesting face, pressing his lips together. “Okay.”

Nick grabs his arm and yanks. “Dude!”

“What?!”

“You are in love with my brother.”

“Am not!”

Nick yanks harder.

“Ow!”

“You like him,” Nick says. “You like Matt. I know how weird you are about your bed, and you let him sleep on your pillow.”

Adam frowns. “I’m not weird about my bed.”

“You have to remake it every time you sit on it funny and you change the pillow case every time somebody touches it.”

Adam stops in his tracks and turns to Nick. “You noticed that?”

“Of course I did,” says Nick. “You’re my friend. It’s why I tell people, usually, to stay off your side of the room and not to touch your folders on your desk. But Matt walked in there and sat down, and you didn’t even react.”

Adam opens his mouth, but then steps forward and grabs Nick in a tight hug. “Nobody’s ever noticed that and been nice about it before,” he says, words muffled by Nick’s shoulder.

“Course, man,” Nick says, patting him on the back. “You’re my best friend.”

Adam won’t let himself cry. “I am?”

Nick nods, like it’s the easiest thing to say, to believe. “You are.”

Adam exhales. “Even though I have a crush on your brother?”

“I knew it!”

Adam laughs and runs back to their dorm with Nick chasing him, feeling at home with a group of people for the first time ever.

~

Around 1:05, Nick’s left for reasons he won’t tell Adam, and he’s got the room to himself. Matt’s not technically late, he guesses, since he’d said around one. But the possible anxiety of being stood up triggers his need to clean and organize. He’s in the middle of putting away his last few books into his mini bookshelf when there’s a knock.

He stands and opens the door to see Matt, hair in a neat little half ponytail, smiling at him.

“How’d you get in?” Adam asks. “Um. I mean. Hi.”

Matt, miraculously, laughs. “The RA here knows me,” he says. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah, definitely.” Adam moves so Matt can step by him, and his heart has never beat faster. Matt sits gently on the bed. There’s nothing in Adam that wants to move him or clean the sheets. It’s strange.

“I brought my homework,” Matt says, swinging his backpack to the floor. He pulls out a notebook and sets it on his lap, unopened.

Adam makes his way over to the bed and sits on his desk chair so he has a little extra space to set up on his bed. He shoves his glasses up his nose and forces himself not to look at Matt. “Um, so,” he says, clearing his throat. “Your class is kind of different than math that I take, since it’s learning how to teach math from it’s foundation. What are you stuck on?”

Matt blinks at him. “You know I don’t actually need help with math, right?”

Adam blinks and turns to Matt. “What?”

Matt’s smile is far too intriguing. “God, you’re cute.” Adam can hear his heart pound in his ears. “You – you’re smart, yeah, and I’m sure you could help me with everything. But I know the differences between subtrahends and addends and all that.” His eyes are too pretty under all those eyelashes. “I guess I wasn’t clear enough, but this was a ruse to hang out with you more.”

Adam’s mouth falls open as he looks at Matt, trying to process what all of it means. “You – hang out with me?”

“Without Nick, I mean,” Matt explains. “He always wants to tag along.” He turns to Adam. “This way we could have some time just us.”

“Just us?” Adam doesn’t know why he can only repeat the last thing Matt said. But Matt doesn’t seem fazed.

Matt nods, smiling. “I figured, after last night, you might like me too.”

Adam reaches out and rests a hand on Matt’s arm, trying to prove this is real and not a dream. Matt leans in and kisses Adam before he can process what’s about to happen. Matt’s lips are soft and warm against Adam’s, more than a dream. Adam almost falls over with how perfect it is. When Matt pulls back, his heart is racing and he can’t stop looking at Matt.

“Was that okay?” Matt asks. “I, like, have been trying not to want to kiss you for a really long time, and I almost did last night but Nick was there, and then you touched my arm and everything, so I figured –”

As much as Adam loves hearing Matt talk, he thinks he’s rambling and would appreciate being helped to quiet down. So Adam leans in and kisses Matt again, getting a cute little squeak of interest before he throws his arms around Adam’s neck. Adam breathes into it, leaning into Matt. He doesn’t know when he throws his arms around Matt’s waist, when he drags Matt into his lap, when Matt starts leaning into him, just that it’s happening.

Something about their combined weight is too much for the chair and it slides backward, the two of them falling to the floor. Matt giggles.

“Oops.”

“I think you broke my office chair,” Adam says, grinning up at Matt. “You are the worst person I’ve ever tutored, I think.”

“Am not!” says Matt, and Adam tries not to feel miserable at the lack of contact anymore. “Plus, it’s been, like, fifteen minutes, and it was a ruse I kissed you in the middle of, so that gives me bonus points.”

“I was going to tutor you the whole time,” Adam argues, and he adjusts his chair back up. It should be okay. “I just also wanted to kiss you.” He shrugs, leaning against his desk as Matt makes himself at home on his bed. “I was sort of worried the tutoring thing meant you didn’t think of me the same way.”

“Well, that’s just not true.” Matt stretches out in his bed, arms behind his head. Adam’s pretty sure he’ll have this image burned into his memory for the rest of his life. “I only started coming to basketball because Nick told me you were there.”

“So we have Nick to thank for this,” Adam says, grinning. He sits down on the bed, most of his weight still on his feet as he tries not to overstep Matt’s boundaries. “Good to know.”

“Adam?”

“Yeah?”

Matt’s grin goes a little devious. “If you want to come snuggle right now, it’s your bed. Or I can move. But you don’t have to sit so awkwardly in your own dorm room.”

Adam opens his mouth. “I – I’m not awkward.”

“You’re a little awkward, but it’s what I like about you.” Matt’s eyes are pretty and big, his smile honest. He scoots over and pats the side of the bed. “Come on. Forget math. Come snuggle.”

Adam carefully lowers himself into his bed next to Matt. They’re above the blankets, it’s the middle of the day, and Nick will probably be back from the gym any time now. It won’t go farther than either of them want.

When he settles, Matt turns over and cuddles into him. Adam automatically wraps his arm around Matt’s back and finally relaxes into the moment. “Hi,” he murmurs.

“Hi,” Matt says.

“Your hair smells nice.”

“Your sheets smell nice,” Matt says. It’s a sweet sentiment, but Matt’s face is shoved into Adam’s chest so he’s not sure how much of that sentence is real.

Adam doesn’t even know how to react. He’s spent weeks trying to get this moment to be anything near possible, and now it’s here in front of him. And he’s got no fucking idea what to do.

“Are you okay?” Matt asks. He scoots over, sitting up. “I’m going too intense, aren’t I.” Adam watches Matt curl up on himself. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re not too intense!” Adam blurts out. Matt tilts his head to the side. “I’m just sort of freaking out a little bit. Not because of you. Because I’m…me.”

“Because you’re you?” Matt asks, and he scoots back over to Adam. “That’s why I’m here. Because you’re you.”

Adam turns around, finding himself nose to nose with Matt. “I like you because you’re you, too.”

Matt tilts his face and they kiss again, soft, gentle, and intentional. Adam feels warm and cozy. He lets himself reach up and rest his hand on Matt’s waist. Matt scoots closer to Adam and sighs, sending a thrill of exhilaration through Adam’s body. He angles his hips away, because he isn’t willing to screw this whole thing up, and keeps the kisses under control.

He doesn’t know how long it is, only that he wants this to last forever, with Matt curled up in his arms, his little giggles, their brief breaks to talk.

“So, does this mean we’re boyfriends?” Matt asks, red faced and hair mussed after a particularly enthusiastic make out. “Just to clarify.”

“I – I hope so,” Adam says, and he feels his face heat up. “I’d like to, I mean.”

“Good,” Matt says. “Then we’re boyfriends.” He leans in and kisses Adam again, and it feels like they could do this forever.

Forever in a college dorm is impossible, though, and the door swings open.

“Have you talked to Matt? He’s not answering my texts.”

Matt and Adam separate, and Adam freezes. “Um.”

Nick breaks into a giant grin. “Oh, damn,” he says. “I knew it. I knew it. Matt, you’re as subtle as a freight train.”

“Shut up, Nick,” Matt says, but he pulls Adams arm more tightly around him. “Let me have some time with my new boyfriend.”

~

They come back from Thanksgiving break to a chill that only seems to be fixed by holding Matt’s hand in his. He’d missed Matt more than he realized possible in that week, and the way Matt had thrown himself into his arms when they saw each other that first Sunday afternoon they were back was more than he could imagine.

“Come on,” Matt says, pulling away. “Nick’s doing, I don’t know. Something to do with class, probably. Let’s go get lunch.”

“Diner?” Adam asks, taking Matt’s hand. “I tutored over the break so I have extra money.”

“Ooh, are you going to take me on a fancy date to the local greasy spoon?” Matt giggles.

“We can get really fancy and buy the real maple syrup when you drown your pancakes.” Adam pulls Matt in and kisses his forehead.

They sit at one of the shiny vinyl booths for two, and Happy comes over.

“You’re a waitress here?” Adam asks. “Since when?”

Happy blows her hair out of her face. “Since I realized my bike needs repairs I can’t afford, and I wasn’t willing to wait until summer.” She clicks her pen. “Alright, dorks. What do you want?”

Adam and Matt order pancakes and hashbrowns and all other things that will make the chill outside feel a little more tolerable. Matt sips his hot chocolate with a smile on his face.

“What?” Adam asks.

Matt shrugs. “I missed you.”

Matt’s in the middle of a story about how Nick got his hand stuck in the turkey when his mostly empty mug of hot chocolate flies to the ground and shatters.

“Oops,” Matt says, eyes widening. “Uh. Do you see Happy?”

Happy whirls around the corner. “What the hell was that?!”

“Hi, Happy,” Adam mutters, sheepish under her furious gaze. “We, um. Broke a mug.”

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, no shit,” she mutters. “Wait, pretend I didn’t say that. I’ll go get a mop, but go check in with the front to see if they have anything to clean up the mug.” She frowns at it. “I don’t think I’m allowed to tell you idiots to pick it up on your own, even though it was your fault to begin with.”

“Yeah, I’ll go check,” Adam says. “You can stay here, Matt. Keep your sneakers clean.” He grins a Matt.

“No, I’m coming with,” Matt says. “It’s my mug, after all. I should let them know I dropped it.”

They make their way to the front space of the diner with barstools and a window into the kitchen where…where Adam…sees…

Adam’s mouth drops open, and he barely has the sense to throw out an arm to keep Matt from stomping through the door to the kitchen, but it’s no use.

“I’m sorry,” Matt says, and Adam should probably not be turned on by how bitchy Matt sounds, “since when have you been banging Mox?”

Nick sighs and adjusts his shirt and hair. “Since, like, the beginning of the semester. Took you long enough to figure it out.” Adam thinks back to the semester – other than when it was time to sleep or play basketball, Nick was pretty gone. He’d put it up to hanging out with Reyna or Happy or something, but nope. “How do you know Mox, by the way?”

“Not important.” Matt says, leaning against the wall and folding his arms over his chest. “By the way, Mox is short for…?”

“Moxley,” the guy says, and his voice is sand and smoke in one. “Jon Moxley. You his big brother or something?” He sticks out his hand. “Shake it. I’m a cook, not a monster. My hands are clean.”

Matt throws a hesitant look at Adam, who shrugs, then shakes Mox’s hand. “Hi,” Matt says, still with a little frown on his face. “Are you – what are your intentions with my brother?”

“Jesus Christ,” Nick mutters, dropping his head into his hand.

Adam watches as Mox’s grin goes a little…weird. “You really wanna know?” Mox asks.

“I – no,” Matt says, blushing furiously. He grabs Adam’s hand. “We, um. If you hurt him, I’ll kill you. Just for the record.”

“Sure you will, sweetheart.” Mox winks at Matt.

“Hey!” Adam says. “Be less weird about my boyfriend.”

“You sure about that?” Mox asks. He’s weirdly confident, almost too casual, as he leans against the stove. Adam secretly hopes it’s on. “Anyway, I’m supposed to be cooking, so it’d be great if all of you left my place of work.” He smacks Nick on the ass. “Except for you, baby. You can stay as long as you want.”

Nick nods. “Yeah, goodbye, roommate and brother. I have someone – something – things to do.”

“I should have known you were out getting laid when you were late to our study parties,” Adam says, but he can’t make himself be mad about it. He grabs Matt by the bicep and turns, leading him back to their seat.

Matt fumes silently as he picks up the shards of mug without any hand protection.

“The hell are you doing?” Happy asks. “I told you to ask the front to take care of that.”

“Your cook is making out with my brother, so he appeared otherwise occupied,” Matt says, glaring down at the puddle.

Happy snorts. “Oh, you didn’t know? Oops.”

“You knew?!”

“Only so many times you can hear weird noises from the kitchen before investigating,” Happy says, mopping up the puddle. It’s mercifully small. “Plus, me and Toby tried to hook up in the supply closet and the two of them were in there last week.”

“And when did that start?”

“Me and Toby?” Happy asks. “Like, last year.”

“No!” Matt says, throwing his hands in the air. “The Nick and Mox!”

Happy pauses mopping. “Don’t know. Don’t really pay attention to things like that. Mostly I’m focusing on how to make people tip me more. Toby’s been teaching me psychology tricks.”

“I can guarantee,” Adam says, “telling people about your tip related psychology tricks is not a way to get them to tip you more. I’ll tip you, like, 25%, but that’s because you’re my friend.”

Happy grins. “Then it worked!”

Adam avoids the urge to tell her it didn’t work the way she’d intended, but he does leave the big tip.

As they walk back into the windy chill of the day, Matt ramps himself up again.

“I can’t believe Nick is – is sleeping with the diner guy!” Matt says, immediately going red. “I – this isn’t – why?!”

“Is this a classist thing?” Adam asks, walking down the street back to his dorm. At the very least, he knows it’ll be empty for a while. “Are you mad your brother for sleeping with a townie?”

“No!” Matt says, and his hair is getting in on the drama, too. “I – that’s – not it.”

Adam studies Matt’s face for a few minutes. “Oh,” he says grinning. “You’re mad because you had a crush on Mox first.”

“I – did not!” Matt says, but he won’t meet Adam’s eyes.

Adam flashes his ID at the desk attendant as Matt stomps ahead of him. “You did,” Adam says. “Oh, this would be so funny if you weren’t dating me.”

Matt gets to Adam’s door and gestures to it angrily. “Open the door.”

“Why?” Adam asks. “So you can tell me how bad you want Mox to fuck you?”

Matt whines and stomps his foot. “No, because I want you to eff me, okay?”

Adam pauses, key halfway twisted in the lock. “Come again?”

“I – I liked Mox, a while ago,” Matt says. “Okay? I did. I thought – shut up.” Adam turns away and keeps opening the door and decides not to mention he hasn’t actually said anything. He pushes it open. “You’re not allowed to talk right now. Let me explain.”

Matt shoves past him and throws himself on Adam’s bed. “Before Nick went here, Mox and I flirted a few times at the diner when I was a freshman and all, so, yeah. I kind of liked him. But then I met you at the beginning of this year, and now I like you.”

At least, that’s what Adam heard. Matt’s face is shoved into Adam’s pillow so he can’t be certain.

“I know you like me,” Adam says, sitting on the bed next to Matt. It’s strangely reminiscent of the night they kissed the first time. “I was just teasing.”

Matt rolls over. “That’s the thing, though,” he says. “I don’t just like you.” He presses his lips together, and Adam thinks he can hear his heart racing.

Adam leans in and kisses Matt without pausing to think about it, laying across Matt’s body. He – he can feel that Matt’s hard against him, and his entire body electrifies with it.

“You know what I’m saying, right?” Matt asks, pulling back and tucking rogue curls behind Adam’s ear. “I love you.”

Adam nods, head spinning with all of it. “I – I love you too,” he manages to say. He didn’t know he did, not yet, but now, with Matt under him, with everything.

He’s sure.

Their clothes disappear in favor of roaming hands and lips. Adam doesn’t know what’s going to happen next, but he knows he’ll say yes to anything Matt asks of him.

“Are you,” Matt asks, lips parted and eyes bright underneath Adam. “I mean, I want to – do you want to?”

Adam brushes Matt’s hair away from his face, suddenly so glad Nick is busy. “Yes,” he breathes. “Yes, anything, with you. I want to. But, um. I’ve never – I mean, I’ve, like, kissed. Obviously. And- well, it depends – what do you want to do?”

Matt smiles. “Am I gonna be one of your first times?” He reaches up and plays with Adam’s hair where it’s fallen out of the ponytail.

“First time,” Adam whispers. “When it mattered.”

Matt’s eyes widen. “Oh,” he says. “Oh, okay. If you want to slow down, we slow down.” He reaches up again and cups Adam’s cheek, and it’s so sweet that Adam almost loses it right then and there.

“Do you want to slow down?” Adam asks.

Matt shakes his head. “Not even a little bit. But if you want to slow – ”

“No,” Adam says. “I want – I want you.”

Matt exhales, eyes deadly serious on Adam’s face. “Okay,” he says quietly. “I’m all yours.”

Matt is immeasurable kind and gentle, talking it out with Adam, explaining what to do, all while their hands are lined and Adam kisses along Matt’s body.

“You – you’re incredible,” Adam mutters. Matt throws an arm around Adam’s neck. “You know that?”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” Matt says. “I – oh, okay. You’re doing so good at this.”

Adam feels himself turn pink. “I am?”

“So good,” Matt says. “And I’m ready, if you are.” He looks a little smug. “If you have what we need, that is.”

Adam flashes back to the beginning of the semester, when he, Toby, and Piper had found themselves at Walmart.

“I, um. I do.”

Matt’s face lights up with excitement. “You do?”

Adam nods. “Piper told me and Toby we were too – I think she said vanilla?” He feels his face burn pink. “She made us get a bunch of lube. Condoms.” He forces out the last word. “There’s a couple vibrators in there, too.”

Matt giggles. “Yeah?”

He nods. “She’s very persuasive, Piper.”

Matt stands and walks over to his desk. “In here?”

Adam presses his lips together and nods. “Yeah.

“Can I open it?” Matt asks quietly. “I know you don’t like people in your stuff.”

“You’re not just people,” Adam says. “Go ahead.”

Matt takes out the lube and some condoms, wordlessly looking to Adam, who nods. Matt’s always got a way of getting Adam’s heart racing like this.

“I’m ready if you want to,” Matt says quietly, coming over to the bed. He sits down on the bed, eyes on Adam’s.

Adam has to steady his breathing. “You are?” It feels too soon, or too fast, for Matt. He doesn’t want to over do it, but Matt seems confident.

“I just – tell me what you want,” Matt says. “I want to make sure you know, so I know, and so we, like, understand each other.”

Adam laughs as he slots himself in between Matt’s legs. “I want to fuck you, you idiot.”

Matt beams at him. “Okay. Yeah, perfect.”

Adam’s never felt like this before, when he and Matt connect. There are fumbling fingers and limbs, some laughter, pauses to kiss. His entire mind is consumed with how Matt looks and feels, how he tastes when they kiss, how he sounds when Adam tries a different move with his hips.

He’s watched a lot of movies. He’s read a lot of books. But none of the words spoken or written are enough to explain how this moment consumes him.

Matt’s little encouragements, praise, gentle touches, anchor him to the moment. Without them, he thinks he’d float away somewhere else.

“Matt,” he warns. “I – I think I’m…”

“That’s okay,” Matt says. “I, um, I can take care of myself after.”

“Definitely not,” Adam says. “I’ll take care of you as long as you want.”

Matt makes an interesting, irresistible little whine, and Adam can’t hold it back anymore. His mind and body coalesce into spinning, whirling bliss with Matt’s name on his lips, and he gives himself a few seconds to breathe. It feels real, overwhelmingly so, and he has to lean down to kiss Matt.

“Hold on,” he whispers against Matt’s lips. “I – give me, like, three seconds.”

“Take your time,” Matt says, beaming up at Adam, and god isn’t that a sight he wants to see every day.

Adam ties off the condom and chucks it in the trash can, then comes back to Matt. “So, um, I’ve never – like jokes with popsicles and whatever –”

“I promise,” Matt says, “whatever you do will be amazing.”

Adam ducks down and tries his best to get this right. He will admit it’s messy, but Matt’s got a hand in his hair and is squirming, which makes him think he’s doing okay.

“Adam,” Matt whimpers, “you’re – oh my god – you’re really good at this.” He whines and twitches his hips. Automatically, Adam throws an arm across Matt’s hips to still him.

“You have no idea how hot this is,” Matt pants. “I’m gonna – Adam, I’m about to –”

He has a decision to make. Adam picks up the pace and grins when Matt cries his name with a hand resting on the back of his head. It’s not exactly what he expected, a little startling, but it’s worth it to hear Matt breathless and giggling farther up on the bed.

“You’re glowing,” Matt says, smoothing his hand over Adam’s hair. “Like, you usually have a sunshiney thing going with the long blond hair, but you’re really glowy right now.”

Adam ducks his head, the intensity of the eye contact almost too much. “I am?”

“Yes.”

Adam lifts his head to see Matt with an angelic smile on his face. “You are, too.”

They kiss and hold each other, and Adam decides this might be his favorite moment of his life. It’s important to him to remember it so he can keep it as his favorite memory, too.

“So,” Adam says. “You excited to go back to classes tomorrow?”

“I can’t believe you’re asking about classes right now,” Matt laughs, draping a leg across Adam’s. “You’re such a nerd.”

“And?” Adam asks.

“And that’s what I like about you,” Matt says.

The last bit of the semester goes by too quickly – two weeks aren’t enough time to study, take midterms, and spend time with Matt. They go to a few smaller parties, lose to Kenny and Piper at every video game known to Kenny’s game collection, and stay up to late studying in the library until they get so giggly they get kicked out.

On his last day, two hours before his parents are supposed to pick him up before winter break, he grabs Matt as he’s leaving his last final.

“You done?” Adam asks. His last final was the day before, but their little group had a study party at Toby’s apartment the night before and he and Matt had had some time of their own afterwards.

Matt nods. “It felt good. Must be all that tutoring you gave me.” He winks, and Adam blushes.

“I can’t believe you called sex ‘tutoring’ in front of your brother last night,” Adam mutters. “Like, that was so transparent even Happy picked up on it.”

Matt shrugs. “And?”

Adam pulls him in and kisses him. “I love you,” he murmurs against Matt’s lips. “I’m gonna miss you so damned much.”

“Me too,” Matt says. “But it’s only a month, right?”

Adam nods. “Only a month.” They kiss again, then Adam reaches for his pocket. “I, um. I was hoping you could open your Christmas present now.”

Matt nods. “Okay.”

Adam did a terrible job of wrapping the picture frame, but he hands it to Matt anyway. Matt opens it carefully, unpeeling the crumpled paper with gentle fingers, and looking at it.

“It’s all of us,” Matt says, fingertips brushing over where he and Adam are next to each other in the cover picture of the photo album. “It’s the picture of all of us from the Halloween party.”

Adam nods. “That’s the first night we all took a picture together.” He brushes some hair from Matt’s cheeks. “Very found family of us. The rest is other pictures from the semester, so you – so you can look back if you’re lonely.”

Matt dives in and kisses Adam, arms thrown around his neck. “Thank you,” he murmurs. “This is the best gift ever.” He steps back. “Yours is in my apartment, though.”

“Oh!” Adam says. “That kind of gift?”

“Well, yes, that too,” Matt says, rolling his eyes with a smile. “But, like, the actual gift is in there, too. They wouldn’t let me bring anything into the test room.”

They walk, hand in hand, to Matt’s apartment that he shares with Toby, and Matt all but shoves him on the couch. “Wait here,” Matt says. “I’ll go get your gift.”

“Still feels like you’re gonna walk out naked and say I’m all you want for Christmas,” Adam yells after Matt, but he stretches out on the couch.

Matt comes back and holds out a smally, square box. “Here.”

Adam opens it and pulls out the keychain. There’s a picture of him and Matt at the top, and, below, a Spotify code etched into the metal.

“Scan it,” Matt says, bouncing on his toes. “It’s, like, a 2020’s version of a mixtape.”

Adam scans the code and sees a playlist called Adamantium.

“Adamantium?”

“Because you make me strong,” Matt says beaming. “It’s songs that make me think of you.”

Adam reaches up and yanks Matt down. “This is the best gift ever.”

He and Matt are really ramping up when the door crashes open with a bang and they pull apart to see Toby and Happy making out and running into the kitchen.

“Oh,” Matt says. “Alright, then.”

“Shut up,” Happy says. “You have an apartment, right Cowboy?”

“I – yes?” Adam says. “Cowboy?”

“You and the stupid fuckin’ belt buckles,” Happy says. “Out. I have a boyfriend to fuck.”

“I’m the boyfriend!” Toby says, and Adam is surprised he managed to bag such a smoke show as Happy freaking Quinn.

“We can go to your dorm,” Matt says, grinning. “I have it, unfortunately, on good authority that Nick is otherwise occupied.”

They fall together in Adam’s dorm, the lingering feeling of the last time until they see each other next sticking in Adam’s heart, but it’s good. It’s always so, so good.

And he’s always so, so in love.

Matt helps Adam pack up the essentials, and then Adam’s parents are texting to say they’re here. “Probably too soon to meet the parents,” Matt says, small smile. “Maybe next semester?”

“Okay,” Adam says, exhaling. “I’ll see you soon, right?”

Matt nods. “So soon.” He stands on his toes and yanks Adam in for what is clearly one final kiss, their hair messed up and hearts full. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Adam rests his forehead against Matt’s. “Thank you for being the best part of my semester.”

Matt tilts his head up and steals one last, perfect kiss.

~

Mini Playlist:

Nonsense - Sabrina Carpenter

Kiss You - One Direction

Look After You - The Fray

I Think I'm In Love - Kat Dahlia

[the-widow-sisters]

We’re Still Here

Summary: It is the anniversary-- the anniversary of the best day of Yelena's life. The day that Yelena's sister was brought back to her by some miracle, and the day that Natasha had felt like she had finally come home for the first time in over five years. And Yelena makes sure that they celebrate it in the place where it all began.

Word Count: 2444

A/N: WE MADE IT!!! The 200th fic for this series (it may end up switching order later, lol)!!! 😍😍😍😍 And a throwback to the first fic I ever wrote for these characters, lol 😂

Thank you guys so much for coming along on this wild journey with me 🥺💖 I've been through bumps and highs and lows and overall have had so much fun here since I started writing. I just can't believe the reception that all of my fics have received and all of the love that you guys have had to give. I truly feel so blessed and so fortunate to have such an incredible audience. You guys are amazing, and I just wanted to let you know how much I appreciate you 💗💗💗 Thank you, and I hope to be here writing for a while longer 💞

Also, I'll try to get the last chapter up for "A First Time for Everything" super soon! Life stuff has been kicking my butt lately, but I'm doing my best to pull through, lol

Thank y'all for reading, and I hope you enjoy! Until the next fic!

  “Take your blindfold off,” Yelena told her suddenly, her voice coming in from somewhere behind the redhead, and Natasha complied, pulling it down around her neck in one quick motion.

  Natasha furrowed her brow as she took in the sight of the entire place. It was a pretty little grove in the woods, and as beautiful as it was, Natasha was completely puzzled. She had no idea where this place was, and she quickly found herself wondering why she was standing out here in the middle of nowhere.

  Yelena had insisted on Natasha taking today off with absolutely no explanation as to why. Natasha had found herself amazingly not too busy, so she allowed herself to take a day off, curiosity filling her. She had wondered if Yelena might have wanted to have a day for just the both of them, cuddling and enjoying each other’s company.

  However, she was quickly proven wrong when Yelena had walked them to the compound and told her to get into a jet before giving her a blindfold. She had insisted on absolutely no peeking, and as much as Natasha did not like having her eyes covered, she trusted Yelena entirely, so she was willing to sacrifice her sight for whatever Yelena had thought of now.

  She had not even been afraid of Yelena pulling a prank. Something about the excitement in her eyes and the hope written in her face had disarmed Natasha’s suspicions.

  “Not that way, poser, turn around,” Yelena fussed good-naturedly, interrupting her thoughts as she suddenly grabbed Natasha’s shoulders and shifted her around to face her. Natasha could not help a small chuckle despite her confusion and Yelena moved to the side to allow Natasha to see what was behind her.

  To her shock, it was a picnic, and Natasha found herself utterly baffled and dumbfounded.

  “Surprise!” Yelena cried, and Natasha just blankly looked down at the blanket, basket, and food before her. Yelena’s face was lit up with nothing but the utmost excitement, her eyes practically glowing with love as she eyed Natasha. Natasha was honestly not entirely certain of what to say.

  She was completely unsure of what the significance of this entire thing was.

  However, given Yelena’s slightly falling face, she knew she was going to have to at least pretend to know until she could more fully discern the reasoning behind it.

  “This is… This is absolutely amazing,” Natasha expressed, meaning every word despite not knowing the reason. She was truly deeply touched by Yelena’s effort even if she did not understand it, and she felt nothing but the utmost fondness swelling in her chest as she thought of how sweet that her baby sister was.

  Yelena puffed up with pride despite the fact that her gaze lingered on Natasha as she doubtlessly tried to understand why Natasha had paused. Natasha tried to keep the loving smile on her face, and Yelena quickly let it go for at least a moment, moving to the basket as she gestured to it and the things, starting her excited explanation of all of the actual cooking she had apparently done.

  “I brought several peanut butter sandwiches for you, and some macaroni for me, and I cooked it all. And do not start. I know what you are going to say. ‘Peanut butter sandwiches is not cooking,’ but guess what? I got in the kitchen and used actual ingredients, so it counts,” Yelena explained, continuing on as she rattled off the dessert and drinks that she had brought.

  Most people did not get to see this side of her. The side that was so desperate for approval and the one that loved unconditionally and with all of her heart.

  So often, they saw the snarky, sarcastic side that was so quick to come to the surface so often, but Natasha was one of the lucky ones. She got to see the soft side that was so utterly and quintessentially Yelena.

  “What?” Yelena asked as she stopped her rambling, confused as she offered Natasha a onceover, and Natasha just shrugged, unable to help a small grin as she shook her head. Her baby sister was perfect despite how bumfuzzling she could be at times.

  “Nothing,” Natasha told her, and Yelena just raised an eyebrow before grabbing a peanut butter sandwich and holding it out to her.

  “Well, then, let’s eat,” Yelena told her, and Natasha moved to sit down on the blanket with Yelena, wasting no more time as she tried to keep up the act of knowing exactly what was happening.

  Yelena pulled out the container of macaroni and cheese that she had brought with them, tearing into it as she happily ate it, and Natasha bit softly at her peanut butter sandwich as she continued to wrack her brain.

  They sat in silence of a little while, Natasha just thinking it all through, and finally, Yelena looked at her for a moment, staring before finally speaking up.

  “What’s bothering you?” Yelena asked, and Natasha looked at her, starting to take in a breath to deny it, but she could easily tell that Yelena could see through any of her excuses. Natasha’s feelings must have been showing on her face, and she honestly found herself shocked at her slip-up.

  However, what would be completely imperceptible to most people was completely obvious to Yelena. Yelena was always able to detect Natasha’s deepest feelings, and while Yelena sometimes did not guess them immediately, she was able to understand it more quickly than anyone else that Natasha knew outside of Clint and sometimes Kate. It was one of the many benefits of their deep bond.

  But sometimes Natasha did wish that she could not tell quite so easily.

  “Nothing. It’s just… I guess I’m confused,” Natasha explained, hating to tell her, and Yelena furrowed her brow, just eyeing her as she waited for Natasha to clarify herself.

  Natasha swallowed, despising the fact that she had somehow completely managed to miss the significance of this day when it was something apparently so crucial in their relationship. Natasha prided herself on remembering every anniversary and every milestone.

  “What is all of this for?” Natasha finally brought herself to question, tilting her head just a little as she watched Yelena.

  Yelena instantly seemed far more solemn, but that love was still shining in her eyes. She looked down, poking a little at the macaroni before her in the bowl, the cheese sticking to her fork as she subtly tried to fit the noodles over the prongs of her fork. Natasha instantly felt regret bubbling in her stomach, guilt gnawing at her about not being able to keep her forgetting a secret.

  “It’s the anniversary,” Yelena explained, and Natasha gazed at her uncertainly, not sure what Yelena meant. It was not any birthdays or the anniversary of their time in Ohio. It was not even the anniversary of their reunion when they had taken down the Red Room.

  She knew it had to have something to do with Ohio, though. Yelena had flown them all the way out here in the middle of the woods, and it was extremely familiar. She knew it looked like Ohio, and it actually suspiciously looked like it was somewhere in the forest not too far from where her grave had been.

  Natasha just stared at her, hoping Yelena would explain as her mind raced to try to think of a potential reason. She honestly felt extremely ashamed of herself for forgetting something that was obviously this important to Yelena. Her stomach was falling to her feet, and she felt the guilt overwhelming her to an almost suffocating degree.

  Yelena swallowed, still messing with her macaroni as she quite obviously tried to conjure the nerve to explain to Natasha. Perhaps not so much the nerve, but maybe more so the emotional stability.

  Natasha resisted the urge to reach out and take her hand to offer reassurance, not sure what Yelena was thinking right now and honestly feeling too guilty to feel comfortable to do such things at this moment. She had forgotten something so utterly and deeply important to her baby sister, and she was wracked with torment despite not even knowing what that something was.

  “I didn’t expect you to remember, but I just wanted to do this because it was something really important to me,” Yelena started, inhaling softly.

  Natasha felt even more shame consuming her, horror within her for her negligence and her stupidity in forgetting.

  “I brought us here to Ohio. Again. Because,” Yelena trailed off, trying to find the words as she shrugged a little, letting out a gentle breath.

  “Well, because it’s the anniversary of the best day of my life,” Yelena admitted, looking up at Natasha at long last with tears in her eyes, and Natasha just stared at her, still slightly confused until it suddenly hit her like a ton of bricks.

  She must have meant that day.

  The very day that Natasha had brought herself to her gravestone in Ohio after being brought back to life by Steve returning the soul stone, hearing that it was a place that her baby sister supposedly frequented since Natasha’s death.

  The very day that she had to talk Yelena down from trying to shoot her because she thought she was some sort of cruel imposter there to play with her emotions.

  And the very day that she had held her baby sister in her arms so tightly and she had finally felt like she had truly come home for the first time in five years.

  No one else had been able to give her that feeling. Not Clint, not Steve, not Tony, and not any of the others. Just Yelena. Wonderful, amazing, sweet, perfect Yelena.

  Natasha swallowed hard, just staring at her, and Yelena looked back at her, nothing but the most adoration in her eyes as she gazed back at her. Natasha took in a sharp breath, hesitantly reaching out her hands as she extended them toward Yelena’s face.

  Yelena moved forward instantly, gravitating toward her touch as she always did, and Natasha took her cheeks in her hands, softly touching her as she looked into those gorgeous honey greens. They held Natasha’s entire world in them, and sometimes just knowing how much love was in Yelena’s heart that was given to someone as undeserving as Natasha made the redhead feel like breaking into sobs.

  “Vy - absolyutnoye sokrovishche. Ya obozhayu tebya vsem serdtsem,”1 Natasha expressed gently, nothing but the utmost love in her words as she expressed everything that she was feeling in the moment in the best words that she could possibly conjure.

  There were so many other feelings, too, but she could not quite even begin to think of how to express all of them. The words she had uttered just then were the core of those feelings, so she stuck with those for at least right then.

  Yelena’s eyes welled up with tears as she leaned heavily into Natasha’s grip, and Natasha moved her head forward, delivering a soft kiss to Yelena’s nose before pressing their foreheads together. Yelena leaned nearer as she used one arm to touch the ground and hold her up as she moved, and she used her other hand to softly touch Natasha’s neck, her fingers softly rubbing against Natasha’s baby hairs on her neck.

  “Ya tebya lyublyu,”2 Yelena softly told her.

  “Ya tozhe tebya lyublyu. Izvini, chto ne vspomnil chto-to stol' vazhnoye dlya tebya,”3 Natasha gently replied, mimicking Yelena’s tone albeit with more pain. Yelena shook her head in her grasp, negating Natasha’s guilt wordlessly. Natasha decided to shove it down for at least long enough to offer Yelena this affection, mentally putting a pin in it for later.

  They were quiet for a moment more, Natasha rubbing her thumbs along the planes of Yelena’s cheekbones and Yelena gripping Natasha’s neck as she ran her thumb along the side of Natasha’s throat.

  After a long moment, Natasha finally pulled back softly, and Yelena moved with her hands, whining just a little at the loss of contact. Natasha just raised an eyebrow, huffing softly as she looked at her gently.

  “The mac and cheese is probably getting cold,” Natasha pointed out, and Yelena instantly looked down at her food, realizing that Natasha was likely correct. She hesitantly moved back to start eating the remainder of it.

  “Y’know… Peanut butter sandwiches don’t get cold,” Natasha pointed out after a moment of silence. Yelena looked at her as if she had lost her mind, not knowing where Natasha was going with this.

  “Well, yeah.”

  “Because it’s not real cooking,” Natasha lightly teased, a smirk on her face as she purposefully messed with Yelena just a bit.

  She wanted to try to bring a bit of a smile to her face after the emotions of a moment ago. She knew Yelena had meant for it to be a happy outing, so she wanted to try to bring the tone back to the original intentions.

  Yelena instantly narrowed her eyes.

  “It is totally real cooking!!! Look, you get out the bread, and that is a real ingredient. You get out the peanut butter, and that is also real,” Yelena started to explain vigorously and enthusiastically.

  Natasha just huffed, unable to help her intense amusement as she watched her. However, as she continued to listen, she could not help but take in the sight of her and feel something far deeper and more emotional take over her rather than mirth.

  The sight of Yelena in that adorable ponytail and with those chubby cheeks so animatedly describing and explaining all of these things to her as she argued her point made her heart swell in her chest and just the barest bit of tears come to her eyes. She was so lucky, and she did not know what in the world that she did to miraculously get this perfect thing in her life after all she had done, but she was going to selfishly hang onto it despite not deserving it.

  “Natashka? What’s wrong?” Yelena spoke up, looking at her oddly, and Natasha tried to wipe a bit of the grin away from her face as well as make the happy tears disappear from her eyes.

  “Nothing… You’re just amazing,” Natasha admitted, meeting her eyes once again. Yelena’s face softened and her eyes turned a little glassy as she eyed Natasha warmly. Natasha extended her hand, her palm up, and Yelena took it firmly, squeezing gently despite her hold on her.

  This human in front of Natasha was her blessing, and Natasha would always be all hers.

(1) "You are an absolute treasure. I adore you with all of my heart."

(2) "I love you."

(3) "I love you, too. I'm sorry that I didn't remember something so important to you."

[thebroccolination]

I'm currently holding all my WIPs hostage until I finish the current draft of my book and let me tell you it's been brilliant motivation because I have never wanted to write fic so badly but I need to send this manuscript I've spent years writing out to agents soon or I will put my entire head in a head-sized volcano. Once it's finished and edited and the querying process has begun, then I can finish one of the 157 WIPs languishing in Scrivener and I will simultaneously post my 200th fic and get the word count for Kiranokira over 1M.

\:D/

IT'S GONNA FEEL SO GOOD

[makesometime]

Happy anniversary RQG fandom!

Not only is it 1 year since the finale aired - today is an anniversary of sorts for me as well: I have just posted my 200th fic in this fandom.

Over the past two and a half years I have written over 675,000 words for this wonderful podcast. That's a lot of words. A lot of time. And I've enjoyed every single moment of it.

Here are just over 3000 more:

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Zolf Smith/Oscar Wilde, Commander James Barnes/Howard Carter (Rusty Quill Gaming), Commander James Barnes/Howard Carter/Celiquillithon "Cel" Sidebottom, Azu & Oscar Wilde (Rusty Quill Gaming)

Characters: Oscar Wilde (Rusty Quill Gaming), Zolf Smith, Celiquillithon "Cel" Sidebottom, Azu (Rusty Quill Gaming), Commander James Barnes (Rusty Quill Gaming), Howard Carter (Rusty Quill Gaming)

Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Everyone is Alive Except Bertie, Anniversary, Reminiscing, Friendship, Reunions, Old Married Couple, RQGversary

Summary:

They’ve spent the anniversaries of their success in saving the world in myriad different ways. Together, apart, merrily, or full of grief for what might have been. It is a difficult time, and none of them would dare suggest that it must be marked in a particular way.

But ten years. Ten years feels like it should be noted.