#But I really struggled with writing this fic.

[sanjisleggy]

this love of mine (trafalgar law x reader) [pt1]

summary: Trafalgar Law’s sudden discovery of your past ties to Straw Hat Luffy and Fire Fist Ace leaves his emotions in shambles

a/n: it’s my first time writing for Law and i’m a bit nervous but imma try my best!! i’m basing my interpretation of his personality on his appearance so far in punk hazard + some fics i’ve read of him before ;;0;; i’ve been struggling with this for like almost 3 days now so imma split this into 2 parts and hope the second part isn’t as tough to write :’D 

contents: set during Sabaody Archipelago arc w/ spoilers (?) from Luffy’s childhood, Luffy’s older sister!reader, Law has to deal with his feelings and is a Mess, Ace is causing trouble without even being physically present, jealousy, insecurity, angst

wc. 1.5k

wanna be on my taglist?

part 2

i. 

as Trafalgar Law watches the infamous Straw Hat captain sucker punch a Celestial Dragon, the very last thing he expects to hear is you shouting the boy’s name.

“Luffy?!” you nearly scream, jumping out of your seat beside your captain. all of the eyes that were initially glued to the ruckus now turn to you, including that of Monkey D. Luffy; and it isn’t lost on Law how the furious scowl on the younger man’s face almost instantly morphs into a giant smile.

“(Y/N)!” Luffy yells in return as he waves his arms around wildly. “i can’t believe you’re here! you made it, too!!”

Law is vaguely aware of Shachi and Penguin whispering animatedly to each other behind him but he can’t really be bothered to listen to them right now, not when you so recklessly leap into action once the fighting begins.

he and Bepo watch silently as you strike guard after guard with your signature weapon–a long metal pipe–while you move in tandem with Straw Hat Luffy. it’s almost seamless, the way he and you work around each other’s moves, as if the other’s fighting pattern is almost engraved into your very muscles.

“woah, what the hell?” Shachi comments aloud. “i never knew (Y/N) was friends with Straw Hat. did you, captain?” Law only manages a loose shake of his head, a million thoughts running through his mind as he continues to observe how different you seem as you fight beside Luffy.

in all the years Law has known you, you’ve always struck him as a level-headed fighter and an overall extremely calm and collected person–it’s one of the many reasons he fell for you to begin with. and yet here you are, having leapt into action seemingly without a second thought, all for a boy Law didn’t even know you were associated with until right now.

“you guys don’t think she hid this from us on purpose, right?” Penguin suggests in a tone tinged with slight embarrassment, as though uncomfortable at the idea of even thinking you’d been wilfully hiding something from everyone.

“no… she must’ve had a reason…” Bepo replies, idly hugging Law’s sword as his eyes continue to trace your movements at the front of the auction house. he winces when you land a particularly harsh blow against one of the Celestial Dragon’s guards.

as the conversation awkwardly dies out, Law can’t help but feel the eyes of his crewmates looking his way almost expectedly. he doesn’t blame them, after all, it’s no secret you’ve been dating for quite a while now. if anyone was to be the most shocked at this discovery, it’d have to be him.

“and here i was thinking you were never gonna wake up,” an unfamiliar voice spoke as Law’s eyes fluttered open. head spinning, he groaned and tried to rub his face with his hands, only to wince when a sharp pain bloomed over his palms. “your hands got burned a bit. i don’t think they’ll scar but you shouldn’t try to move them so much for now.”

“who are you?” he croaked as he blinked away the blurriness in his vision and was greeted by the sight of an unfamiliar room. “where am i?”

“i’m (Y/N) and i don’t know where we are,” you replied simply. “all i know is that you almost died and i saved your life.”

“why?”

“do i need a reason?”

the sudden sound of a gunshot tears across the auditorium and is followed by a cacophony of gasps as all eyes turn to the stage where just mere seconds ago, one of the Celestial Dragons stood with a gun pointed at a mermaid. 

Law feels his heart sink when he realises what you’ve done.

standing on wobbly knees, you let your pipe fall to the ground with a loud clang. before you lies the unconscious body of a lady Celestial Dragon with her gun now sitting a few metres away from her unmoving hand. 

you’d moved without thinking after seeing the way Luffy and his crewmates shouted when the mermaid’s life was put in danger. the dots connected in your head and it gave you all the reason you needed to risk it all for his friend.

he is, after all, your beloved baby brother.

“(Y/N)!” two distinct voices cry your name at the same time as blood begins to pour out of your stomach, the warm red liquid seeping through your fingers as you clutch your wound in vain. out of the corner of your eye, you can see Luffy sprinting towards you but out of instinct, you scan the scattering crowd in search of your captain. 

the moment your eyes meet, you’re shambled into his arms. 

“what’s the matter with you?!” Law hisses under his breath before he lays you down carefully on the ground. “you’re never this reckless. why’d you–”

“hey! you!” Luffy barks, pointing a finger in your partner’s direction. in true Luffy-fashion, he completely ignores the countless guards and marines as they continue to charge towards him, only to get beaten down by his crewmates before they can even get close. “give me my big sister back!”

“SISTER?!” exclaims a chorus of voices, a combination of his crew and your own.

you can only manage a sheepish smile when Law glances down at you with a flabbergasted look on his face.

ii.

“you should join my crew.” he’d spoken so casually, as though such a proposition wasn’t potentially life-changing for a lone wolf like yourself. 

after you managed to find his crew mates and lead them back to your temporary hideout, you’d been invited onto their submarine with the offer to drop you off anywhere you’d like. unable to think of any place in particular, you decided to stick around for a bit and before you knew it almost six months had passed by.

“i mean, you’ve stuck around this long,” Law continued after realising you weren’t going to respond any time soon, “you must trust us to some capacity, right?” 

he’d hit the bullseye without even trying. 

you liked the Heart Pirates, you really did, but your journey from the very day you departed from your home island was wrought with hurt and betrayal. after countless encounters with scummy captains and their shitty crews, you swore you’d go solo until you could find one of your brothers again. it didn’t matter which: Ace, Sabo or Luffy. 

they were the only ones you could trust, after all.

the commotion dies down after a strong wave of Haki washes over the room, followed by the thuds of countless unconscious bodies unceremoniously hitting the ground. everyone turns their attention to the culprit–everyone except you and the man currently patching you up.

kneeling over you, Law silently sanitises and bandages your gunshot wound after ensuring there wasn’t any fragments left in your flesh. he’d been deadly quiet after Luffy announced to the world his ties to you as your brother and you aren’t entirely sure if this is the regular Law kind of quiet or the bad kind of quiet. something in you heart says it’s the latter and yet your boyfriend tends to your wounds so tenderly, as if he isn’t upset in the slightest.

once he’s done, he even helps you to your feet slowly and carefully, though still not saying a single word. 

after a while of watching the Straw Hats speak to an old man who showed up out of nowhere, Luffy comes running your way. it isn’t lost on you how Law’s shoulders tense up in response as he inches closer towards you until the back of his hands brushes against yours. 

“(Y/N)!” he laughs before throwing himself against you and pulling you into a tight hug. although it really hurts your wound, you can’t help but smile as he nuzzles his cheek affectionately against yours. “i’ve missed you so much! i can’t believe you’re here of all places! did you see my wanted poster? i have a super awesome crew now, you should meet them–”

Law observes as the Straw Hat captain yaps endlessly whilst you gaze down at him with a softness in your eyes your boyfriend foolishly thought had always been reserved solely for him.

“oh! and i met Ace in Alabasta and he told me to give this to you if i ever see you,” Luffy says as he rummages through his pockets before pulling out a ring strung on a chain. “Ace also told me to tell you that he misses you lots and hopes to see you again soon!”

Ace? surely it’s not Fire Fist Ace? what connection do you have with him, of all people? what else have you been keeping from me?

though, now that he thinks about it, Law never would’ve expected you to be siblings with Straw Hat Luffy, who’s to say you aren’t associated with other infamous pirates? since the day you agreed to be his girlfriend, he’d been under the impression he knows who you are, as you do with him, but now he’s not so sure anymore. 

gen taglist: @irethepotato @i-reblog-fics-i-like @grierpilots @appalost @hyper-fic-ation @dressycobra7 @38lyra38 @chaseyui @paraparakiss @krooschl @teewon @olliesoxenfree @misstraffy @riftmage27 @aletch @somatchajade

[hueningstar]

God I loved your fic!!;3 about giving a head while he plays LoL !.but I Have a request for uu can you do a dom reader and sub soob but Reader is younger than Soobin. and the rest is up to you!) Thank you and I Loooove your fics ^~^

Giving In

Summary : A younger, confident reader takes charge, exploring a playful yet dominant dynamic with a shy and submissive Soobin. The tension builds as boundaries are tested, leaving Soobin completely at the reader's mercy.

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A/N : Thank you so much for sending this request in and for loving my fics! I’m super excited to write this one because the dynamic sounds so unique and fun to explore! I’ll do my best to make it enjoyable for you (and everyone else reading)! And as always, thank you for your support—it means so much to me! 💕

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Pairing : younger dom!reader × older sub!soobin

Warnings : teasing, blowjob, kissing

MDNI

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You've known Soobin for years. He's always been the sweet, shy boy who blushes at the smallest things. But tonight, something's different. You're feeling bolder than usual, more in control.

You find Soobin in his room, bent over his desk, trying to solve math problems. His hair is slightly messy, his shirt rides up a bit, exposing his lower back. He's completely clueless to your predator-like gaze. You lick your lips, an idea forming in your mind.

You slowly walk behind him, placing your hands on his waist possessively. He tenses up, feeling your presence but not daring to turn around. 'W-what are you doing?' He whispers, his voice barely audible over the scratching of his pencil.

A wicked smile spreads across your face as you see Soobin nervously adjust his posture, sitting up straighter, his cheeks flushed. You lean in closer, your breath tickling his ear.

Soobin shivers at your warm breath, his heart racing in his chest. He tries to focus on his math problems, but your words keep distracting him. "I-I'm just having a hard time with these problems, that's all," He manages to stammer out, his voice trembling slightly.

You watch his Adam's apple bob as he swallows again. God, he's so innocent. You wonder how he'd react if you... 'Spread your legs wider,' You suddenly say, making him stiffen again.

Soobin's eyes widen at your sudden command, his immediate instinct being to obey. Slowly, he parts his legs further, his breath hitching as he feels the cool air brush against his inner thighs. He nervously glances back at you, trying to gauge your intentions. "Like this?"

Your eyes darken with lust at Soobin's obedient move. A husky chuckle escapes your lips as you admire the view. "Perfect," you murmured appreciatively. Your hands slide from his waist to his thighs, squeezing lightly. "Such a good boy, following directions so well."

His face turns bright red at your praise, ears practically glowing. A small whimper escapes his lips as your fingers trail along his thighs. "Stop it..." He says weakly, though his body betrays him, leaning back slightly into your touch. "I have... I have homework..."

A smirk plays across your lips at his cute attempt at protest. You lean in closer, your lips almost brushing against his ear. "Is that what you're really worried about? Your math homework... or what my hands might do next?" You trace patterns on his inner thigh.

Soobin's breathing grows shallow, his mind racing with thoughts he's never allowed himself to entertain before. His legs tremble slightly under your gentle touch. He swallows hard, his voice barely above a whisper, "Y-you're... making it hard to focus..."

You chuckle mischievously, your fingers inching higher up his thigh. "Is it? Or is it that my touch is distracting you from your homework?" You tease, your fingers getting closer to the hem of his shorts. "Tell me, Soobin..." You murmur,

"Would you still be struggling with math if I wasn't touching you like this?" Your fingers lightly trace the edge of his shorts, deliberately not going fully under. You want to draw out his shy responses, make him admit what your touch is doing to him.

Soobin squirms uncomfortably, his face a brilliant shade of red. He bites his lower lip, trying desperately to maintain some semblance of composure. "I-I don't... it's not..." He stammers, his words trailing off as your fingers teasingly brush against his shorts.

You watch his reaction closely. He's so innocent, so easily flustered. You decide to take it further. Your fingers slip under his shorts, touching his bare thighs. His breath hitches. You murmur, "Spread your legs wider, baby."

Soobin's legs tremble as he slowly parts them further, his face contorted with embarrassment and unspoken desire. His shorts ride up higher on his thighs, revealing more of his pale skin. You run your fingers higher, closer to his inner thighs.

His breath catches in his throat when your fingers nearly touch his most sensitive area through his shorts. He's completely vulnerable now, his body betraying every innocent thought. You can see how hard he's trying to maintain some dignity. "What... what are you doing..."

You smirk mischievously, remembering your past. "You know what?" You murmur, your fingers still teasingly close to his groin. "There was a time when I used to watch you..." You pause dramatically, watching his reaction. He swallows hard, waiting for you to continue.

You see his expression turn curious and embarrassed at the same time. He knows you're about to reveal something he wouldn't expect. You lean in closer, whispering, "Remember when we were younger and you'd sneak girls into your room?"

Soobin's eyes widen in shock and humiliation, his face turning an even deeper shade of crimson. He gulps nervously, realizing where this conversation is heading. "Y-you saw that?" he stammers, squirming uncomfortably under your piercing gaze and teasing touch. "I thought..."

You cut him off by pressing a finger to his lips, your other hand continuing to tease along his inner thigh. "Shh, you don't need to explain. I know exactly what you were doing with those girls in your room," You whisper, your voice low and sultry.

You smile knowingly, standing up and grabbing Soobin's hand to pull him up from the desk. "Come on, let's go to the bed," You instruct, leading him to the bed and pushing him down onto it.

He falls back onto the bed, heart racing as you climb onto it with him. He props himself up on his elbows, watching you intently. His thighs unconsciously fall open, revealing his obvious bulge through his shorts. You crawl between his legs, looking up at him with hooded eyes.

Soobin's breath catches as you kneel between his spread thighs, his cock visibly throbbing against the fabric of his shorts. He watches you, a flicker of nervous excitement passing through his eyes as he realizes what's about to happen. "Are you...?"

"Shh..." You hush him softly,already reaching for the waistband of his shorts "Let me..." You teasingly tug at his shorts, slowly pulling them down. His hard length springs free, already leaking precum.

Soobin bites his lip to stifle a moan as his shorts are pulled down, his hard length bobbing free. He's so turned on, he's already leaking. He watches you with heavy-lidded eyes, his chest rising and falling rapidly. "You're going to...?"

You nod, giving him a sultry smile. You lean in, wrapping your hand around the base of his thick shaft. You give it a slow pump, smearing the precum around the head. Then, without warning, you take him into your mouth, sucking him deep.

A loud, pleasured gasp escapes Soobin as you suddenly take him into your mouth. His head falls back, eyes fluttering shut. He grips the bedsheets tightly, hips bucking slightly as you start to bob your head, sucking him off. "F-fuck."

His hips start moving in rhythm with your movements, fucking your mouth slowly. He's making those adorable whimpering sounds that somehow manage to be both cute and incredibly sexy. His hands move to your hair, gently guiding you. "Jesus..." He whispers. "You're so..."

You look up at him, his cock still buried in your mouth. You gaze up at him with lust-filled eyes, sucking harder and faster. His hands tighten in your hair, fucking your face harder. "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!" He chants, his voice rising in pitch.

You keep sucking him off, his cock hitting the back of your throat over and over. Suddenly, he thrusts deep and holds it there, his cock pulsing as he cums hard in your mouth. You swallow every drop, continuing to suck him gently as he rides out his orgasm.

As Soobin slumps back against the bed, panting heavily, his face flushed and glistening with sweat, you gently pull away, licking your lips with a satisfied smirk. His wide, doe-like eyes meet yours, filled with a mix of awe and exhaustion.

“You did so well for me, Soobin,” you whisper, brushing your fingers against his trembling thigh. His cheeks turn an even deeper shade of red, and he hides his face behind his hands, letting out a soft whine.

“D-Don’t say that,” he mutters, his voice shaky, but the way his lips curl into a shy smile betrays his embarrassment.

You chuckle, leaning in to kiss his flushed cheek. “You’re adorable. Now, let’s clean up before you get all shy on me again.”

With a teasing grin, you stand, leaving Soobin breathless and completely at your mercy, already anticipating the next time you’d make him lose control like this.

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soobin is so breedable frfr

taglist : @soobunni

[yanderes-galore]

Venom won the fic poll so here's my attempt at writing him... them...? Sorry the second half is rushed... I honestly didn't have a plot in mind and just... let my mind wander.

I want to write Loki, Moon Knight, and Doctor Strange at some point for Marvel Rivals... but I'll be spacing out any other personal fics I do between requests. Like a little treat for my brain rot.

Lethal Protector

Yandere! Venom (Marvel Rivals) Oneshot

Pairing: Dubious

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Overprotective behavior, Possessive behavior, Violence, Blood, Murder, Kidnapping, Restraints, Clingy behavior, Dubious turned forced companionship/relationship.

No matter the universe, it's hard to get used to Venom. Symbiotes have always been seen as monsters, especially in this timeline displacement event. However... this version of Venom, is one of the only ones where he's become a hero.

Eddie and Venom are one being now. They are Venom and have pushed aside their desire to consume others. For the most part, at least....

They claim they're a hero now, a protector trying to fix the crumbling multiverse that threatens to harm you all. You have even gotten involved due to your timeline merging with all the others. Encountering Venom was a concerning meeting at first...

But you'll take any help you can get.

You already have enough to deal with. You're meeting people you thought you knew only to find out they're from a different universe at a completely different time. There's two Dr. Dooms fighting, Hydra's in contact with eldritch beings, Knull is waking up, Bast is corrupted, Loki's taken over, Dracula...

You had your hands full enough as is.

When you met Venom, like many of the other familiar faces you witnessed, you were tired. Like everyone you're struggling to find a way to stop all this warring. Dealing with a symbiote was the last thing on your list....

Yet... Venom wasn't your typical ball of alien goop. They have a host and are in sync with them relatively well. You had first encountered the beast on Klyntar in an attempt to help the Guardians get Knull under control.

Like most of the wildlife on this planet, you expected Venom to attack you.

They never did, in fact...

You caught the symbiote defending you from another of its kind.

Since then you accepted the symbiote around you. As long as the beast doesn't try to eat your face, you'll accept teaming up. Speaking with the beast even allowed you to learn more about them.

The host was named Eddie. Together with the symbiote they were Venom. While once a beast that tormented Spider-Man in their universe... their connection with Knull was severed then. This lead to some... individuality.

Venom was now considered a lethal protector. Lethal you could see from just looking at them. Although, protector...?

That was a new sight to you.

You had partnered with Venom across various new locations with many different faces. You never bothered considering them a threat. After all, there were worse things to consider.

It also meant you never quite had enough time to process the changes in Venom's behavior around you.

It was hard to tell when the beast was extra ruthless. While intelligent, Venom acted like a towering guard dog around you. Many other faces you've met tended to comment on how insistent Venom is around you.

Even Spider-Man, someone who's used to Venom chasing him down, asked how you managed to 'tame the beast'.

You don't really know how yourself. You simply fought alongside the beast at Klyntar. Ever since then, the beast has followed you around.

Downtime is something you cherish in times like this. It doesn't even seem like you can get that alone anymore. Not that you really want to be alone in the places you find yourself in....

You quietly sit down in a place so familiar to your own world... yet altered. It's all uncanny to you as you try to remember what home was. Before you can, a large presence slams beside you, startling your thoughts before it comes crawling over.

"We wish to know why you are so quiet?" The beast hisses, settling behind you. You feel the protoplasm of the beast shift beside you as Venom looks down at you. You sigh, calming the tension in your body.

"I just... miss home. I see so many traces of it yet it's never the same." You admit, glancing at Venom. "I'm tired of being in danger all the time... I don't want to be alone."

"You don't wish to be alone?" The beast echoes as though trying to understand your conflict. You nod quietly, exhausted.

"I never know who's friend and who's foe. Everything's all messed up and I don't know who I can trust!" You admit, barely picking up the subtle way the beast shifts closer to you.

"Do you trust us?" The creature hisses, studying you. "We wish to trust you."

"I..." You hesitate, having trouble looking into the milky white eyes of the symbiote. "Yes, Venom. I trust you. You... haven't eaten my brain yet, at least."

"We do not plan to eat your brain." Venom growls as if offended by the idea. "You are much too..."

A brief pause is heard and you tilt your head. You weren't expecting them to hesitate as they look at you.

"... You are... inedible. We cannot eat you. We do not wish to." Venom manages to respond. You can't tell if you're offended or not until the beast shifts closer, black body sticking to your clothes.

"We only wish to protect you. Won't you let us? We are friend... You may trust us." Venom hisses, tongue lashing as they press closer.

"Uh, yeah... Yeah, you can protect me... Just... stop touching me?" You ask, pressing against Venom's chest with a hand. You immediately grimace as the black goop nearly envelops you. The beast the chuckles a growl, nodding before pulling back.

"Fine... We will give you space." The beast grins, "For now."

Protection. Trust. You didn't expect that to be a slippery slope. With how Venom stuck around you, you didn't think he'd do anything... wrong.

You underestimated Venom's words, it seems...

After all... You said you couldn't trust ANYONE, right?

....

A slimy appendage swipes across your face as you wake from your temporary slumber. The smell of something wet and metallic tingles in your nostrils as you sit up. At least... You try.

Yet the beast's black tendrils tighten on your body, large white eyes staring down at you.

You struggle to remember what happened. Your head hurts and you keep feeling something wet hit your face. After that... It doesn't take long for you to realize a tongue is hitting your face.

You struggle immediately, the beast above you growling as it tightens its hold. You can now see it's Venom who is holding you hostage once your vision returns. You struggle... but the sticky symbiote won't let you go.

"Venom, What the hell—?" You freeze when you look around yourself. The area around you stunk of blood. Traces of the red substance covered the area as you pull at Venom's hold.

You smell it on them too, the stench making you freeze on the spot.

"Scared? We took care of it. You were in danger. Danger's gone now." Venom answers in a matter of fact tone.

"Danger...? What danger? Danger where?" You try to ask, Venom choosing to nuzzle your head instead of answering.

"Gone. Danger is gone. We said we will keep you safe." Venom answers, licking their teeth as they hold you in their claws and tendrils.

You look around to see where Venom brought you. It's an alternate version of your home, you can tell that much. It looks so different... especially with the amount of blood splashed across the ground.

"... Who did you hurt, Venom...?" You force yourself to ask, heart racing.

"Who does not matter. We got rid of the danger." Venom responds simply. "We brought you home, too."

"Venom—!"

"You said no one is trustworthy but us." Venom growls, "Why do you care? We are the only ones worthy of working with you."

"Let me go, now, I can't—!" You plead, only for Venom to roar and pin you. You feel yourself stuck on the bloodied floor, four sets of claws pinned beside you while symbiote tendrils coil around your midsection.

"We will not be letting you go just to see you nearly get killed again!" The beast roars on top of you, tightening their hold. "We plan to keep our promise. You said you miss your friends... You said you miss home. We're meant to be your friend, we took you home!"

The hold is tighter, suffocating, yet oddly comforting despite the gooey texture and uncanny environment.

"We shall be your friend. We shall be your home. We... shall be yours." Venom growls, tongue dripping with saliva as they stare you down.

"You... shall be ours."

Venom was not the threat you expected to be your downfall in this multiversal problem. Many who were dragged into this may very well die. Naively... You wished Venom would've focused more on the big picture.

Instead, to Venom, there was only one goal that mattered to them now more than home...

That goal was keeping you all for themselves, for protection... at least, you can only hope that's why.

[mournwatch]

Hi again. Long post incoming and I apologize. It's just because I have a lot of thoughts about this, as a trans guy coming at this issue from another perspective. I'm not trying to fight but sort of... sing in reprisal if that makes sense lol. I think that this data could really use the context of how many AO3 authors writing sexual content about transmasc/trans man people are part of our community themselves. Knowing who is invested in writing this content is a crucial part of understanding what these statistics mean. (It's my hypothesis that the majority are trans, but this is not something I have checked.) And if it is majority trans people, I believe what we are seeing is not the sexualization of trans men by chasers or fetishists, but people exploring their own sexuality through a safe outlet in a community where they feel comfortable to do so.

I understand that the actual concern is that regardless of who is writing this content, there is a worry about harm being done by fic perpetuating trans men being burdened with feminizing/ fetishizing stereotypes. We did talk about this before and I remember. I think the perception of this harm is complicated considering that fandom spaces are by nature subcultural, and in mainstream (progressive/liberal) culture lives the inverse stereotype of trans men being held to standards of traditional masculinity. Between these two stereotypes, we are all just trying to find comfort and authenticity and somewhere to see ourselves reflected back.

I struggle to find any representation of gay trans men at all in most mainstream media content, and that is also sparse and tends to focus on adolescents anyway. Like Annie Marks' trans son Ben in the TV series Good Girls. I think the only nonhet romance with a transmasc character that I can think of in a widely viewed TV series was Jim and Oluwande in Our Flag Means Death. It's a vastly underrepresented category when you consider fiction as a whole (which does matter when talking about fandom since these source materials are the primary motivator for fan fiction to exist to begin with.) And that makes me also feel like there's plenty of space for people to fill that void with their own creations and experiences. Especially original content! Something I absolutely love to see.

With this in mind, this is just speculation based on my own experiences, but I don't think this stereotype would be so prevalent if it didn't resonate with people on a deeper level. There is an allure to being irrefutably trans in every way, but still a valued and active player in the fields of romance and sex. And to simultaneously break down the way people need men in society to be but still be seen and respected as a man/transmasc regardless of how many of these signifiers get eroded away. Because in fiction, you can do that, and having that escape is powerful. But yeah, it's worth asking these authors directly about their own thoughts on it. I personally completely understand the demand for this, because the kind of characters that I would make to represent myself and my sexuality almost never make it to TV, film, or games.

It truly is a stressful position to be in to hear about how the very thing that helped me be more comfortable with myself, my body, and my sexuality is the site of pain for other people in the community that I love. And I think a lot of others dont mean to be a source of anguish either. I'm speaking up partially even because I want to soothe some anxieties that might exist about the intentions of the people who write this sort of content who are similar to myself, and put a friendly face to it in a way. I don't know if any of this helped because I know big walls of text are intimidating, but I hope something here was meaningful. Thank you for looking into this data in the first place.

AO3 statistics for trans men

I looked at three main categories of ao3 stats: number of explicit fics, ratio of M/M to M/F fics, and different types of sex listed under "additional tags" (vaginal, oral, etc). There are definitely more things that could be looked at but these are what I focused on.

Explicit rating

At the time I collected these numbers (they've likely already changed, fic authors publish stuff fast) there were 14,221,609 total fics on ao3. Of those, 2,569,913 fics were rated "explicit," or 18.1% of fics. There were 91,487 fics tagged "trans male character," and of those, 43,845 were rated "explicit." That's 47.9% of fics tagged "trans male character."

Nearly half of all fics featuring trans men are explicit, compared to about a fifth of fics overall. This indicates that trans men are heavily sexualized in fandom spaces.

M/M vs M/F fics

For fics in general, there were about 2.0 times as many M/M fics as M/F fics (6,822,062 and 3,439,600, respectively). For fics tagged "trans male character," there were about 6.0 times as many M/M fics as M/F (68,507 and 11,359, respectively).

When filtering for fics rated "explicit," the difference in ratios is even more significant. Explicit fics in general had about 2.2 times as many M/M fics as M/F (1,616,555 and 743,455), while explicit fics tagged "trans male character" had 8.6 times as many M/M fics as M/F (38,490 and 4,489).

Fandoms in general tend to lean more towards M/M relationships than M/F relationships, but this discrepency is much stronger when it comes to trans men, and I'm not sure what the reason for that is. Trans men are more likely to be non-heterosexual than heterosexual, but not necessarily more likely to be attracted to men than women (a lot of trans men are bisexual, pansexual, queer, etc).

Trans male characters are more commonly shipped with men than women, to a greater extent than the overall fandom preference for M/M ships over M/F, and I'm not really sure why, but it's definitely interesting.

Additional tags

For explicit fics tagged as "trans male character," the most popular additional tag by far is "vaginal sex" at 13,685 fics (31.2% of explicit fics tagged "trans male character"). Since this tag doesn't necessarily refer to the trans male character (it could refer to a cis woman being vaginally penetrated by a trans male partner, for example), I filtered for fics tagged as M/M. That resulted in 12,504 fics tagged "vaginal sex," or 32.5% of explicit M/M fics tagged "trans male character."

Overall, for explicit fics tagged as "trans male character," the most common additional tags referring to different types of sex were:

Vaginal sex, at 13,685 fics

Vaginal fingering, at 9,908 fics

Oral sex, at 9,147 fics

Cunnilingus, at 7,712 fics

Anal sex, at 4,590 fics

There definitely are trans men out there who enjoy vaginal penetration/fingering or receiving cunnilingus, and many of the fics tagged as such might be reflective of that fairly common* experience for trans men. That being said, there is a really heavy emphasis on vaginas and vulvas in explicit fics about trans men, and I find that uncomfortable.**

*I think? Unsure how common it actually is

**BEFORE PEOPLE START MISINTERPRETING ME: I'm not saying I'm uncomfortable with trans men who enjoy using their vaginas/vulvas for sex, or the existence of that kind of fic. I'm saying that fandoms in general tend to focus on trans men having vaginas to an extent that I'm uncomfortable with.

[benispunk]

Who's That Girl?

Chapter 18: More Than Roommates

Wade is getting tired of this slow-burn. It's his time to shine now. Or, Logan learns the truth about the center's rescue.

logan howlett x reader

TW: language, D&W.

A/N: hellooo!! chapter 18 is up (wtffffff???? already!!!!!) and I would say things ARE FINALLY interesting.....but are they really?? I was giggling by myself writing it...and there's still THREE chapters left. I don't want to let this story gooooo...hope you enjoy this chapter!🩷

→ this fic is inspired by the TV Show New Girl, Wade and Logan aren't Deadpool and Wolverine (no powers/mutant gene etc) but I did take most of their character traits and storyline!!

Masterlist /Previous Part

Logan’s first few weeks at the high school had been a mix of chaos and… cautious optimism. Everything felt new. The routine was unfamiliar, the building was different, the people were different, and numerous. This wasn’t the cosy place they had nurtured for years in an old building in the middle of the city, no…This was so much bigger. So much more serious. Logan felt like a fraud every time he put a foot inside the school. He was no teacher. He wasn’t like Hank or Ororo who had dedicated their life to this. He barely passed high school before he joined the army—not because he wasn’t good, hell he wasn’t dumb—life just had a way of pulling him down until he couldn’t stand on his own two legs. 

So, when he left the army and he was jobless, barely homeless, and most importantly hopeless, the center’s job ad for maintenance staff was a godsend. He didn't really care at first. He was just there to maintain the building and fix broken things when there were any. He was always there. He didn't give a damn about anything, he just did his job, was nice to the people at the center and left it at that. But the kids started to like him. At first, he pretended to push them away. But he knew these kids were there for a reason: nobody out there wanted to help them. A bit like him in the end, he thought. After this, Charles asked if he could keep an eye on some classes when the teachers needed to go somewhere for a few minutes. And oh boy, Logan didn’t joke around.

After a few months of juggling between being the center’s janitor and the kids’ babysitter, Charles came to him and asked if he wanted to be a little bit more than that. 

He hadn’t opened a school book in decades. His immediate answer was no. But Charles being Charles, he won. He always fucking did. For a year, Logan followed evening and online classes to become a teacher in the center. He’s still laughing about it today.

So, yes. Everything was new. And way too official. But some things remained the same—his students. They were still the bright, resilient kids he’d fought so hard for back at the center.

It wasn’t without challenges. Some struggled with the rigidity of the high school’s structure, missing the familiarity and intimacy of the center. Logan had calmed more than a few meltdowns, but he met every obstacle head-on with the patience and determination that had carried him this far. For every tough moment, there was a victory—small, but significant.

The quiet student who finally raised their hand in class. The one who cracked their first smile in weeks. The team effort during a group activity that ended with laughter instead of frustration.

They’re still here, he reminded himself often, a quiet mantra that kept him going. The center might be gone, but the heart of what they’d built wasn’t lost. His kids were still thriving, and somehow, so was he.

And then, there was Y/N.

Logan caught himself watching her more often than he wanted to admit. Whether it was during a quick coffee run in the teachers’ lounge or when she breezed past him in the hallway, her presence had a way of grounding him. She carried herself with a quiet confidence, her easy rapport with both colleagues and students reminding him why he’d been drawn to her in the first place.

It was becoming too hard to keep in check. She was everywhere. At home, at work. In his every thought…

So, it wasn’t always grounding. Not when he spotted her laughing with Tony near the science labs one afternoon.

From his vantage point, leaning against the wall with Ororo, they looked like they were sharing the kind of joke that left you breathless. Y/N tilted her head back, her laughter ringing out, and Tony, ever the charmer, leaned in with a grin that practically lit up the hallway. Logan tried not to let it bother him, but the twist in his gut told another story.

“Is this going to be a thing now?” Ororo’s voice cut through his thoughts, laced with a mix of amusement and exasperation.

Logan grunted, keeping his eyes fixed ahead. “What are you talking about?”

She smirked, leaning slightly into his space to whisper. “The brooding. You do realize Tony is married, right?”

Logan turned to her, caught off guard. “What?”

“Married,” Ororo repeated, clearly enjoying the moment. “Happily, too. And he’s got a kid. Adorable little guy—spitting image of his dad.”

Logan blinked, torn between disbelief and a sudden rush of relief he wasn’t ready to acknowledge. “Why are you even telling me this?” he muttered, attempting a nonchalant shrug. “I don’t care what Tony does.”

Ororo raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Sure you don’t,” she said, her tone teasing but not unkind. “But I figured it might save you some unnecessary brooding.”

Before Logan could respond, she sauntered off to her next class, leaving him grumbling under his breath and feeling more transparent than he cared to admit.

Later, Logan found himself in the teachers’ lounge, nursing a coffee as he unwound after a long day. Natasha and Tony were seated across the room, deep in conversation about some elaborate project Tony was planning for his engineering students.

“You know, Pepper keeps telling me to stop using the house as a test lab,” Tony said with a chuckle. “But hey, Peter loves it. He’s always asking me to teach him this or that.”

Logan’s ears perked up at the mention of a name. “Peter?” he asked, his tone casual, though he wasn’t fooling anyone. “That your kid?”

Tony turned to him, his grin widening. “Yeah, my son. He’s got my brains, poor kid, and his mom’s everything else, thank god.” He laughed warmly, clearly proud.

Natasha, sipping her coffee, raised an eyebrow at Logan over the rim of her mug, a smirk tugging at her lips. If Logan noticed, he didn’t let on.

“Didn’t know you had a family,” Logan said, keeping his voice neutral.

“Yup,” Tony said, pulling out his phone. “That’s Pepper and Peter. My world right there.” He handed the phone over, showing Logan a photo of a beautiful woman and a young boy with Tony’s unmistakable features. All three of them were mid-laugh, their faces glowing with joy.

Logan nodded, his grip on the phone tightening briefly before handing it back. “Nice picture.”

“Thanks,” Tony said, pocketing the phone. “I don’t wear a ring, though. Can’t keep track of them—lost my first one in the ocean, the second at a barbecue. Pepper just rolls her eyes at me now.”

Natasha snorted softly behind her mug, her gaze flicking between the two men. “That’s one way to keep people guessing,” she said, her tone light but knowing.

Tony grinned. “Hey, keeps things interesting.”

As Tony returned to his conversation with Natasha, Logan leaned back in his chair, sipping his coffee. The jealousy that had clung to him for weeks seemed to evaporate, leaving behind a quiet sense of clarity.

Maybe, just maybe, there was no reason to worry after all.

———

The apartment buzzed with the easy rhythm of a friendly dinner. Y/N, Logan and Wade had opened their home to their colleagues from the school for a casual evening—a mix of food, drinks, and laughter that made the small space feel warm and alive. It wasn’t extravagant, but it didn’t need to be. This was exactly the kind of night Y/N loved: simple, genuine, and surrounded by people who felt like family.

From his seat near the window, Logan watched the scene unfold. He didn’t say much, but he didn’t need to. The sound of conversation flowed around him, and he let it wash over him like a tide. But even if he tried to ignore it, his gaze kept drifting back to Y/N, like a magnet he couldn’t resist. She was everywhere at once—chatting with Natasha, laughing at something Tony said, checking on the food Wade had sworn he’d handle.

She made it look so effortless, but Logan knew better. He could see the little tells: the way she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear when she felt overwhelmed, the quick glances she sent toward him or Wade when she needed help. It made his chest tighten in a way that was both unsettling and oddly comforting.

How does she do it? he wondered. How does she make everyone feel like they belong?

Across the room, Y/N caught his eye for the briefest moment before quickly looking away. A flicker of something unreadable crossed her face, but it was gone so fast he wasn’t sure if he’d imagined it.

Wade, passing by with a drink, noticed Logan’s lingering gaze. “Subtle,” he muttered, smirking.

Logan scowled and took another sip of his beer. “Shut up.”

The evening had settled into an easy rhythm when the conversation shifted, almost inevitably, to the old center where Logan had worked.

“I still can’t believe it had to close,” Natasha said, leaning back in her chair. “It was such an important place for those kids.”

Y/N froze mid-bite, her grip tightening on the fork in her hand. She hadn’t expected this to come up, not tonight. Her heart thudded in her chest, and she quickly looked down, pretending to pick at her plate.

“It’s a shame,” Scott added, his tone sincere. “But it’s a good place we have now. Right, Logan?”

Logan nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Yeah, it’s a good place,” he said, his voice soft. “I think it’s what they needed. It’s…a new beginning.”

Y/N’s stomach twisted at his words. She felt the weight of what they didn’t know—what he didn’t know. She’d done everything she could to keep it that way, to make sure it wasn’t about her.

And then Wade opened his mouth.

“You know,” Wade interrupted, his grin practically announcing trouble, “there’s someone here who doesn’t get enough credit for all that.”

Y/N froze. Her heart lurched in her chest, her grip tightening around the edge of the table. She knew where this was going. She turned towards him, her hold on her fork tightening.

Wade ignored her entirely. “Come on, Y/N,” he said, leaning back with a smug look. “You’re the reason the kids ended up at the school in the first place. You fought for them when no one else would. Hell, Charles barely had to do anything. She practically forced him to make it happen.”

The room went silent. Every head turned to Y/N, who felt like she’d been caught in a spotlight. Her cheeks burned as the weight of their gazes settled on her.

Logan’s brows furrowed. “What is he talking about?”

“I swear, Wade,” she hissed, glaring at him.

“What?” Wade said with exaggerated innocence. “You deserve the credit. Why keep it a secret?”

Logan’s gaze snapped to Y/N, his voice quieter now as he repeated his question. “What is he talking about?”

She opened her mouth, but no words came out. Her heart pounded as she looked down at her hands, unable to meet his eyes. “I… I just wanted to help,” she finally mumbled.

Jean’s eyes widened as the pieces clicked into place. “You’re the reason the school took the center?” she asked, her voice thick with emotion.

Y/N gave a small nod, not trusting herself to speak.

Ororo was on her feet in seconds, pulling Y/N into a tight hug. “You saved them,” she said, her voice trembling. “You saved our kids.”

Scott joined in, his usual stoicism cracking under the weight of his gratitude. “You didn’t just save them. You saved us. That center—it was our home too.”

Jean hugged her next, her voice soft but full of meaning. “You gave them—and us—a future. Thank you.”

Y/N blinked rapidly, her vision blurring as she tried to keep herself together. She wasn’t used to this kind of attention, and it felt overwhelming. “It wasn’t just me,” she said quickly, her voice shaking. “It’s mostly Charles.”

“Don’t downplay it,” Ororo said firmly, squeezing her shoulder.

Natasha, leaning back with her cup of coffee, smirked knowingly but said nothing. She’d known this was coming and had been waiting to see how it would play out.

Y/N’s own colleagues looked equally stunned. Tony was the first to speak, raising his glass. “To Y/N,” he said, his voice steady. “The unsung hero.”

“To Y/N!” Clint echoed, grinning.

The room filled with cheers and clinking glasses, but Y/N could barely process it. Her cheeks burned, her throat tight with emotion. She felt a mix of embarrassment, gratitude, and something else she couldn’t quite name.

And Logan…

She was going to kill Wade.

Logan was still staring at her, his beer forgotten on the table. Something shifted in his chest, something he hadn’t been ready to confront. She had done all of this. She had saved the center. His home.

Y/N, still overwhelmed by the attention, avoided Logan’s gaze at all costs. She didn’t think she could handle what she might see there.

But he wasn’t looking away. And as he watched her fidget under the weight of everyone’s praise, he knew two things for sure:

She didn’t just light up the room. She carried it.

And he was absolutely, hopelessly, head over heels for her.

———

As the last of their guests filed out, the apartment settled into an unusual stillness. The echo of laughter and clinking glasses faded into the soft click of the closing door. Y/N lingered there, a warm smile and a few parting words of thanks on her lips as the final guest disappeared down the hall.

Her posture seemed relaxed, casual even, but Logan could see the faint tension in her shoulders, the way her fingers fidgeted with the edge of her shirt, and the almost unconscious habit of tucking her hair behind her ear. It was a tell he’d come to recognize—a sign that something was swirling beneath the surface.

From the kitchen, Wade busied himself with what could barely pass as tidying up. He clinked glasses together with unnecessary force, muttering exaggerated commentary under his breath, clearly more interested in the unfolding drama than cleaning. He knew he was in trouble. Did he care though? Absolutely fucking not. Logan, standing by the couch, barely registered Wade’s antics. His thoughts were elsewhere, tangled and sharp.

The truth of what Y/N had done had hit him harder than he’d expected.

As the door clicked shut behind the final guest, Y/N hesitated, her hand lingering on the doorknob. For a moment, she stood there, her back to the room, as though steadying herself. When she finally turned around, her gaze met Logan’s.

He stood just a few feet away, still as stone. His expression, usually so guarded, was raw with something she couldn’t quite name—uncertainty, gratitude, maybe even awe.

“So…” he began, his voice rough and hesitant, “you’re the miracle?”

Her cheeks flushed a deep crimson at the words. She laughed softly, a nervous sound, and tucked another strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t know about that,” she mumbled, her voice quiet. “I just… wanted to help.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, his brow furrowing as he struggled to put everything he was feeling into words. Her humility, her quiet determination, the way she seemed to take the weight of the world on her shoulders without asking for anything in return—it made his chest ache.

“You didn’t have to do it,” he said finally, his voice low and steady. “No one asked you to. But you did.” He paused, the next words sticking in his throat before he forced them out. “And I—” He stopped again, running a hand through his hair as he exhaled heavily. “Thank you.”

The sincerity in his voice made her breath hitch. Her lips curved into a shy, uncertain smile. “You’re welcome,” she said softly, her voice barely audible.

A heavy silence settled between them, filled with all the words left unsaid. Logan shifted on his feet, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. For a moment, it seemed like he might turn away, might let the moment pass.

Then, without warning, he stepped forward and pulled her into his arms.

Y/N froze, startled by the sudden gesture, her breath catching in her throat. But the embrace wasn’t rushed or awkward. It was warm, grounding, and spoke of everything Logan couldn’t seem to say aloud. Slowly, she relaxed, her arms coming up to wrap around him in return.

For a few moments, they stood there, the world around them shrinking until it was just the two of them. Logan’s grip was firm but gentle, his face pressed into her hair as he exhaled deeply. Y/N closed her eyes, her heart pounding in her chest as she let herself lean into him.

And for the first time, she let herself admit what she’d been so determined to ignore: Logan wasn’t just her friend or her roommate. He was something far more dangerous. He was the one who made her feel seen, safe, and alive in a way that no one else ever had.

Her feelings for him weren’t some fleeting crush or admiration. They were rooted deep, growing quietly until now, when the weight of his gratitude and the warmth of his embrace cracked open the walls she’d been so carefully keeping in place.

It wasn’t just the way he made her feel safe—it was how he carried so much of his own pain, his own battles, and still found space to be there for others. For her. Logan didn’t just share her world; he anchored it, even when he was struggling to stay afloat himself.

She loved him. And there was no pretending otherwise anymore.

In the kitchen, Wade rummaged loudly through a drawer, the clatter of utensils deliberately exaggerated. “Just looking for the… uh… thing,” he called out, his voice laced with amusement.

Logan pulled back slightly, shooting a glare in Wade’s direction. “Go to bed,” he muttered, his voice gruff.

Wade smirked, unbothered. “Sure thing, miracle man. Don’t let me interrupt.” With a mock salute, he disappeared into his room, the sound of his laughter trailing after him.

Y/N’s cheeks burned, but she didn’t move. Her hands still rested lightly on Logan’s sides, and his gaze remained fixed on her.

“Sorry,” Logan murmured, his voice softer now. “I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay,” she interrupted, a small, genuine smile breaking through her shyness. “I didn’t mind.”

His lips twitched into something close to a smile, but the emotion in his eyes—the gratitude, the affection, the unspoken promise—spoke louder than any words could.

And Y/N knew, with startling clarity, that her feelings for him weren’t something she could keep burying.

———

The apartment had finally settled into silence, Y/N had long since bid them goodnight, retreating to her room after the whirlwind of the evening. Her door had closed with the softest of clicks, but Logan could still hear her voice in his mind—the nervous quiver when she’d admitted what she’d done, the sincerity in her words, the vulnerability in her smile.

Now he stood on the balcony, the cool night air nipping at his skin. The cigarette in his hand burned low, more ash than anything else. He wasn’t smoking it for the habit—he barely noticed it was there. His fingers toyed with it absently, his focus lost somewhere in the city lights sprawled out before him.

The view wasn’t much, just rows of buildings and the faint hum of late-night traffic. Yet tonight, it felt infinite, a reflection of the mess swirling in his head. Y/N had done so much—more than he’d ever dared to ask of anyone—and she’d done it without hesitation. For him. For his students. The weight of it settled heavily in his chest.

The soft slide of the balcony door broke through his thoughts. Logan didn’t turn, already knowing who it was. Wade stepped out, a slice of pizza in hand, the door clicking shut behind him.

For a while, neither of them spoke. Wade leaned against the railing beside Logan, the faint scent of pepperoni wafting between them. He took a massive, obnoxious bite of his pizza, chewing with exaggerated fervor. The silence stretched, heavy but companionable, until Wade inevitably broke it.

“So…” he began, his voice carrying that familiar tone of mischief and expectation.

Logan didn’t look at him. He exhaled through his nose, his shoulders easing slightly. “I think I’m in love with her.”

The words came out quieter than he expected, but there was no taking them back. They hung in the air, raw and exposed.

Wade froze mid-bite, his eyes widening as if Logan had just confessed to committing a crime. A beat later, he choked violently, pizza crumbs flying as he slapped his chest with one hand, wheezing dramatically.

Logan didn’t so much as glance at him, his gaze fixed on the city beyond.

When Wade finally recovered, wiping at his mouth with exaggerated flair, he turned to Logan with a look of mock betrayal. “You—you couldn’t have warned me first? I almost died!”

Logan shrugged, his face unreadable.

“Oh no, you don’t get to shrug this off,” Wade said, pointing an accusing finger at him. “You just dropped the L-bomb like it’s nothing and nearly sent me to the great beyond in the process.”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “The L-bomb?”

“Love, brooding one! Love!” Wade gestured wildly with his pizza, his grin spreading wider. “This is monumental! My Super Bowl, my World Cup, my Oscars all rolled into one. I feel like I should give a speech or something.”

Logan rolled his eyes, but Wade wasn’t deterred.

“Let me tell you,” Wade continued, pacing the small balcony like a coach delivering a halftime pep talk. “You and Y/N? Adorable. The slow burn? Chef’s kiss. But come on, man, we’ve all been rooting for you two forever.”

Logan shot him a glare, but it lacked its usual bite.

“And don’t think for a second that I’m not already planning your wedding,” Wade added, tapping a finger to his temple. “I’m picturing it now—rustic theme, maybe some wildflowers, and me as the best man, obviously.”

“Wade,” Logan warned, his voice low.

“What? You think I’d make a terrible best man? I’ll have you know, I—”

“Wade,” Logan repeated, turning to fix him with a look that might’ve scared off most people.

Not Wade.

“Okay, okay,” Wade said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll stop. For now. But seriously, man.” His voice softened, the humor giving way to something more sincere. “Don’t mess this up. She’s special. You know that.”

Logan sighed, leaning against the railing as he turned back to the horizon. “Yeah,” he murmured, almost to himself. “I know.”

For a moment, Wade was silent, watching Logan with an expression that bordered on fondness. Then he clapped him on the shoulder, a little harder than necessary.

“Well, good talk,” he said, his grin returning full force. “I’ll leave you to your brooding. Don’t forget to invite me to the baby shower.”

Logan groaned, rubbing his temples as Wade slid the door open and disappeared back inside, humming a tuneless song under his breath.

Alone again, Logan let the quiet settle over him. He stared out at the city, the distant lights blurring as his mind wandered back to Y/N. Wade was right about one thing—she was special. And Logan knew, in the quiet honesty of this moment, that he couldn’t imagine a world without her in it.

He didn’t know where this was going, didn’t know how to put everything he felt into words. But he was certain of one thing: he wanted to figure it out—with her.

And, oh, how scary that thought was.

XXX

[academicdisasterfic]

Writing Interview

tagged by the inimitable @lqtraintracks 💗

What’s your total ao3 word count? 181,945

Your top 5 stories by kudos?

- Sourdough with 3692

- Half Awake with 1333

- In the Shape of Things to Come with 1133

- A Melody of You & Me with 1023

- Career Day with 866

Do you respond to comments?

I try, but honestly, I’ve spent the last two years so burnt out and exhausted that it’s fallen to the wayside. I read and appreciate absolutely everything and try to respond when I have the energy; I still get flutters at Ao3 comment notifications in my email and I am fervently hoping one day to make up the slack.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

lol I absolutely am allergic to anything but a happy ending: I’d say a tolerance for pain but it has a sequel so not quite! Some of my microfics are quite angsty.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

All of them lol - I think the one that makes me the happiest is Half Awake. Objectively A Melody of You & Me or Sourdough is much fluffier but something about the way H&D learn each other in Half Awake feels closer to my own idea of what finding happiness feels like.

Do you write crossovers?

Not yet! Never say never - I’m thinking all the time of how much fun it’d be to write Drarry in various other universes.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Yes and it’s hilarious to me every time. Girl who’s got the energy

Do you write smut?

I try but I am absolutely no connoisseur. I tend to write sex scenes more quickly & with less detail than I intend, but it’s something I’m working on!

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes and it made me so happy! It’s such a huge compliment.

Have you ever co-written a fic?

An absolute banger that will never see the light of day with @cavendishbutterfly

What’s your all time favourite ship?

There’s Drarry, obviously, but Wolfstar is equally as sacred to me.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I started writing a longer fic about three years ago that was intended to be a very slow burn friends to lovers and was kind of processing my own divorce. I think I just moved on, both in my own life and as a writer. I ended up using some bits of it for When the Flood Comes - the description of Hogwarts at the start and the Golden Trio’s dynamic is from that other fic, particularly the part where Ron wakes up and has to reassure himself that Harry came back from the forest.

What are your writing strengths?

I’m definitely a character focussed writer - I love writing dialogue and emotions, and I think that’s probably what I’m best at. I also love writing setting & atmosphere but I’m not quite where I want to be with it yet - that being said, none of my writing is where I want it to be, I’m chronically dissatisfied with all my words.

What are your writing weaknesses?

I am not a plot guy. I struggle with holding suspense over longer works and I think I rush too much. Sometimes I worry about being autistic and the way I express thoughts and emotions: I’ll read other work and think mine is too simplistic. I’m not very good with descriptions either, I don’t tend to describe appearances too much.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in fic?

Big yes!!! So many fic writers speak English as their second language and have to write in English all the time; I love seeing mother tongues being written in. I probably wouldn’t feel confident enough to write in a language I didn’t speak but I’ve seen people do it really well with betas who can translate.

What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

I think I’ve written everything I really want to - perhaps one day a short angsty Narcissa/Pansy, I’ve loved the idea of them for a while but I’ve not had the time.

What’s your favourite thing you’ve ever written?

My favourite fic I’ve written is When the Flood Comes - political intrigue was a new beast for me, but I loved writing it, and I also love Harry and Draco’s dynamic in it. Outside of fic, my original novel is my favourite overall, and I’m so proud that I finished it. I didn’t really believe that I’d be able to write a full novel until I actually did it, and it changed how I thought of myself as a writer. It’ll always hold a special place in my heart.

Tagging @cavendishbutterfly @saxamophone @saintgarbanzo @nv-md @sleepstxtic @oknowkiss @basicallyahedgehog @moonmanateee and anyone who wants to participate - I love reading these, please tag me!

[lqtraintracks]

Writing Interview

Thanks so much for the tag @starquestingfordrarry! <333

how many works do you have on ao3? 337

what's your total ao3 word count? 1,454,047

your top 5 stories by kudos

Right Hand Red (with freakin’ 40,662; sorry, I just noticed that it had ticked over the 40k mark and I’m flabbergasted and so grateful as well <3 )

Hung Like a Horntail

Slip Into My Lover’s Hands

Weeds or Wildflowers written with sdk / @unmistakablyoatmeal

check this hand ‘cause I’m marvelous

do you respond to comments? Er… yes?? Like, very. verrrrry. slowly. But I’ll admit that some will never get answered because I lose steam and then when I start trying again, I start with the newest ones. This might sound horn-tooty, which is not how I intend it, but with the number of stories I’ve written, I get a lot of comments. I’ve found it impossible to keep up, but I do my best, even if my best is sometimes a bit crappy. I do read and appreciate every comment I get though!

what's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending? I don’t really do angsty endings often. When I do, it’s usually a Prongsfoot or something. Of the Drarry fics I’ve written, I have one open ending but it’s still pretty hopeful, and that’s Burning the Ground. 

what's the fic you've written with the happiest ending? All of them. :D My goal in life is to get readers (and myself) to cry with joy at the end of my stories. Some standouts just from memory are Heart Like Neon, Bolts, Take You Home, Jasmine in Bloom, Right Hand Red, Blood and Fire, and The Most Splendid Thing. 

do you write crossovers? Maybe one or two over the last 25 years. So, statistically, not so much. 

have you ever received hate on a fic? LOL of course. :D But I don’t linger on those comments. They’re quite few honestly. 

do you write smut? No, never. 

have you ever had a fic stolen? Yes. 

have you ever had a fic translated? Yes. Quite a few have been. Not even sure how many languages, but I know there are several in Russian, Chinese, and I think both Spanish and Portuguese. 

have you ever co-written a fic? Yes! With the incredibly talented sdk, @the-starryknight, and @nv-md! (And one round robin with like 552 people lol.)

what's your all-time favorite ship? Drarry, my beloved. <3

what's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will? I don’t really have wips. I’m a chronic finisher. I did start something last year for a friend’s birthday and then pooped out. I ended up writing her a completely different pairing months later. And then I took some of the vibes and ideas from that unfinished fic and wrote them into other fics that I *did* finish, so… Cannibalism. Yeah. 

what are your writing strengths? LOL finishing things! :D Also: smut, for sure. Humor. Sort of achy, hot romances? My trademark is writing tenderness and filth simultaneously. I’ve gotten good at pacing things well, so that beats and arcs feel well-rounded and satisfying, I think. 

what are your writing weaknesses? Ugh, plot!!! Specifically non-romance-or-pairing-based plotlines are difficult for me. Heavy angst. Also stakes. I struggle to up the stakes for my characters enough to give a big payoff. I struggle to make my characters change enough or to effectively write that change in a satisfying way. (This applies more to my original writing than to fic, I think.)

what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? I’m not sure what the hot take here is and if there is one I’m missing it. My original novel has a Spanish speaker and he will sometimes slip into Spanish during conversation. I wanted to get that right, so I had a native Spanish speaker (hi @capipuff!) read it to correct my bad Google-translated Spanish. So I guess my thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in fic is, do your best to get it right?

what's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?  If I want to write something, I write it. :D 

what's your favorite thing you've ever written? Oof. Wow. I want to say my original novel, even though it’s also more flawed than my fic tends to be. It’s certainly one of the things I’m most proud to have written. <3 Usually my favorite fic is the last thing I’ve written and that’s true right now as well. I love The Most Splendid Thing. But before that, my favorite was probably Jasmine in Bloom, and before that it was Take You Home. Bolts is for sure in the running. Heart Like Neon is way up there as well. As is My Name in Your Mouth, because I love that Teddy Lupin with all my horny heart. 

Okay I'm going to tag some of you fine folks now: Ali, you're it! Also, @writcraft @shiftylinguini @phoebe-delia @wholahoop @saintgarbanzo @academicdisasterfic @citrusses @corvuscrowned @lettersbyelise and @magpiefngrl

[romirola]

Hey! First off, I just gotta say I love your work! The way you characterize everyone always feels so deep and full of thought, and it just adds onto the already interesting stories that you have going.

One character that I always enjoy reading from the perspective of in any fic is Babe, but one thing I've noticed is that there's not a ton done in regard to their dynamics with certain pack members across the fandom. While there are plenty of works out there featuring their dynamic with Asher (of course), Angel, Sweetheart, and sometimes darlin' and sam, I feel that there's rarely any exploration done with their dynamics with Milo and David. Longwinded preamble aside, I'm curious how you would describe your personal view of their dynamic with the two. Is there anything in specific you approach it with when writing?

Thanks!

Hi, Anon! Hey, thanks so much for stopping by and sending this ask. It means so much to me, and I really appreciate it. <3

Babe is an incredibly fun character to write and to read about. I love their tenacity and heart. I love their dry sense of humor, their ability to see the big picture, their courage, and even their vulnerability when the time is right.

As fun as it is to write bona fide Asher/Babe-centric stories, I also really enjoy mixing things up by having Babe interact with other members of the pack. Your question has been so much fun to think about!

I think one thing that's really important to note about Babe is that they are the FIRST unempowered mate of the Shaw Pack ever. That's a lot of pressure. To integrate into a world of magic is hard enough, but to be thrust into the role of beta-mate while trying to navigate this huge change in perspective? Babe strikes me as the type to want to know as much as possible, to fill in all those knowledge gaps as best they can, and to do so on their own because they don't want to be dependent on Asher. I headcanon that Babe can often be found at at the Empowered section of the Dahlia Library, studying as much as they can about not just shifter culture, but empowered society in general. They attend lectures, seek out classes, read on their own. Whatever it takes.

That's something I bring to bear on their relationship with David especially. Babe wants to be a capable, supportive mate to Asher. They want to make sure that his best friend and alpha views them as an asset to Asher, not a burden. So I think when it comes to David, especially early on, they often try to "prove" to him they aren't just some informed-idiot. (Apparently, they discover, that's a common phrase in magical society.) David always saw Babe as a wonderful addition to Asher's life, not so much for their knowledge (though he is often impressed by them), but because of their love for Asher. David sees the difference. Asher is more confident with them. He shares ideas more readily. He takes charge more frequently. He breathes a little easier. And David loves to see that. He never struggles with Babe, finding himself enjoying both conversation and silence with them. And lately, I've even gotten the chance to explore the deep connection I know David and Babe share. My current fic, The Prince Shifter, is an AU where I've cast Babe and David as cousins. Having that dynamic has really allowed me to explore a very comfortable vibes between them. AU and Canon, I think Babe has the guts to always tell David what he needs to hear, and David really respects that. They just... click.

When it comes to Milo, I think he and Babe hit it off right away, much to Babe's utter surprise. They know they come off as stony, stoic, even abrasive. It's usually hard for them to make friends, despite the friendliness and care lurking just below their surface. But Milo seems to take them in stride, never pushing for more than they are willing to give, yet very willing to meet them right where they are. It's fun. The pair really enjoy spending time together, plus Milo loves to see Asher fall in love with his person. There's a really small , brief moment in It Was the First Time (Things Felt Normal Again) where Babe helps Milo breathe as he suffers through a bout of "magic-stroke" (his post-Inversion injuries), and it's honestly a nice moment that I think demonstrates their bond.

Something I should probably also mention that underscores just how much Milo and David appreciate Babe: I headcanon Asher has had a string of truly awful partners. Users, cheaters, and worse. People who just took-took-took from a nice guy willing to give so much of himself over, and expecting nothing in return. It broke Asher's friends' hearts every time to see the relationship crash and burn, usually with Asher feeling devastated. David and Milo initially presumed Babe was going to be the same. Until... they realized, this was different. Babe was different. And they couldn't be more glad.

What do you think, Anon? That was long-winded, but I do so love the opportunity to talk about this stuff! Please do feel free to reach any time!

[lovemybluebully]

A Friend In Need

Inspired by my fellow Tumblr people again as seen here: 😊

https://www.tumblr.com/lovemybluebully/773754398203641856/and-if-in-another-universe-it-is-nicepool-who?source=share

AoA Wolverine is somehow stuck with Nicepool in his universe and although they are the most unlikely of duos it was just too tempting to write a little something with them. 🤣

It's nothing spectacular. Just a drabble really and not as structured as my other fics, but hope you enjoy it anyhow. lol

"Deadpool and Wolverine"-verse

Word Count: 1,829

Nicepool had been jabbering away all day nonstop and it was wearing on the last nerve of the cantankerous Weapon X.

In an attempt at scaring him into shutting up Wolverine lunged with all claws extended, knowing that Wade would get out of the way in time as this was a daily occurrence. But unfortunately, when Wade did move Wolverine got himself into a pickle. He'd thrown his full weight into that lunge and now his claws were lodged into the wall, and he couldn't pull them out.

Wade walked up behind him to glance over his shoulder to get a good look at the situation.

"Aw would you look at that. See what happens? If only you were a little nicer and not always trying to stab me. Kindness really goes a long way in- "

"Will you just shut the fuck up and let me think here?! It's your fuckin' mouth that's got me into this situation!

"Actually it was your questionable mental stability and unprovoked rage towards me that got you into this if you want to be accura- "

"Didn't I tell you to SHUT UP?!"

Wolverine is beyond annoyed that not only did he not succeed in getting Nicepool to stop talking, but now he's stuck in the wall and looking like a complete idiot. He starts snarling and jerking his arms to try to wrench the claws free, but they don't seem to budge. Wade just watches his struggle in silence for a minute before stepping forward to offer his assistance.

"I think this would be a lot more effective if we worked together. You pull while I pull you. Simple concept, right? Are you ready? Just let me get a good grip here..."

He reached out to grab his trapped companion under his arms when suddenly Wolverine jerks and immediately shakes him off.

"Don't FUCKIN' touch me! I'll deal with it myself!"

Wade failed to notice his uneasiness and thinks he's just being his usual ornery self.

"Nonsense Logan, everyone needs help sometimes and there's no shame in that. So no need for the macho loner bit and just let your pal, Wade, help you out."

Before Wolverine can protest the hands have gripped underneath his arms again and he's fails to hold in a very audible snort as the unfamiliar shivers run through him. He tries to control himself but is unable to resist as he frantically twists his body to try to get the hands off of him.

"Hey you, quit being stubborn and let me help. I know it's a hard concept for you to understand, but that's something that friends do for each other."

Wade doesn't relent and follows around with the writhing man, fingers digging in to keep their grip on the sides of his chest.

"Get your damn hands offa me! Let gohoho!"

Logan cursed inwardly as that chuckle escapes him, fighting to keep back a smile, but Wade had heard the outburst and looked at him in confusion.

"Did you just laugh? I've never heard you do that. Do you find something funny about this? How about letting me in on the joke, big guy? Geez, you're so squirmy. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were....."

Nicepool trails off as he finally realizes the source of Wolverine's unexplainable behavior with a predatory smile lighting up across his face.

"Oh I get it now! How did I not see this earlier?! You're just ticklish!"

Dread builds up throughout Logan's entire body with his first instinct being to deny it.

"No, I'm fuckin' not!"

"Oh yes, you fricking are! You know what? I think we should use this to our benefit. I'll bet you'll pull free in a jiff once I really start tickling you."

Logan's eyes almost bulged out of his head at hearing that.

"NO!! Just get away from me! I'm not fucking around, Wade! I will stab you for real this time!"

The fearsome Weapon X hadn't felt this feeling in a long time. It was panic.

"Aww well if you're going to do that then you're going to need the use of your claws, silly goose. And currently they look pretty stuck to me. Now let's get them out of there together so you can go back to stabbing to your heart's content."

All of Wade's fingers buzzed to life and began wriggling and massaging into the wide-open armpits as Wolverine roared out in anger and futilely tried to pull his arms down for protection.

Weapon X was unfortunately just as sensitive as any of his other counterparts, but he'd never had it used against him like this, especially when he was unable to really do anything about it. He is already sans a hand and being trapped like this is almost like he is now missing both of them since he has no way to defend himself.

All he could do was thrash about with his snarling and deep growls being the only thing keeping him from breaking into humiliating noises. The last thing he ever wanted was for someone else to get the best of him and he was fighting it with everything he had in him, determined to get free before the inevitable happened.

"This is such a good plan, wouldn't you agree? And I get to kill two birds with one stone here. I've always wanted to make you laugh. Even getting just a smile out of you has been Mission Impossible. You don't need to hold it back, you know? It's just the two of us here."

He dug around in his armpits for a few more seconds before he moved down to the ribs, causing Logan to snort from the unexpected change in spots as he desperately clung to keeping himself contained. The way the fingers wiggled into the sensitive places between his rib bones was almost unbearable, and to make matters worse and embarrass him even further, Wade had started to playfully tease him.

"Aww come oooon.....Let's hear it.....I won't die happy unless I know what your laugh sounds like...Coochie coochie coo.....I'm just going to keep tickle tickle tickling until you give it up...."

Logan couldn't stand being trapped there and having to listen to Nicepool's ramblings any longer as he attempted to tell him off through gritted teeth.

"I swear.....if ya don't.....shut your- "

This of course was a huge mistake.

Wade's hands flew down and started mercilessly kneading into Logan's taut belly as the typically menacing man's knees instantly buckled from the overwhelming tickling sensations. He was beyond disgruntled to realize that he absolutely could not take it.

Before he knew it, he had broken down into helpless laughter as he fell to his knees trying to get away, though it just put him in a more vulnerable position with his arms suspended at an awkward angle above him.

"Bwaahahahaha! Dahahammit! Cuhuhut it ouuut!"

Wade was now grinning from ear to ear as he leaned down to continue clawing at the man's stomach.

"There we go. See? That's not so bad. Oooh you're tickly all over, aren't you? We keep this up and I'm confident you'll be free in no time!"

"Fuhuhuckin' stahahahap-aahahahaha, y-you useless wahahaaste ohohof flehehehesh!"

"Useless? How could you say that? We're making great progress! I think I saw your claws move at least a millimeter. So do not fret, I'm going to put in all my effort. You can count on me!"

Logan found he could barely get a word in through his uncontrollable laughter as Wade's good-intentioned but tormenting fingers drove him wild. He positively loathed the fact that he had been reduced to such an embarrassing, helpless state and wanted nothing more than to wring Wade's neck for getting him into all of this. But that would all have to wait. First, he needed to get himself freed.

Logan pulled hard on his arms and began throwing his whole body weight in the opposite direction, feeling a glimmer of hope as the wall creaked from the exertion. Though he temporarily lost his momentum, squirming desperately and letting out some involuntary higher-pitched giggles once Wade's fingers dug into his hips on his lower stomach area. Naturally Wade was amused by his reaction and kept up his attack on the sensitive spots.

"Waahaadeeheeheehehehe! Nooohohohohoooo! Gonna kihihihihill yaahahahhahahhaahaah!"

"I don't think you will. You're going to be so happy that I helped you escape that you won't even be thinking about murder. You'll see."

Wade noticed that Logan had stopped trying to pull free and was now only attempting to pathetically curl up and guard his stomach, wheezing desperately from how hard he was laughing.

"Aw what's the matter? Is that too much for you? Did I find your weak spot?"

Even though he thought it was totally adorable how helpless the man looked he eased up and moved back to squeezing his ribcage as Wolverine found his strength again and staggered to his feet before he again was violently thrashing and yanking at his arms.

"Sssss.....Staaahahahahahaap! N-Nohoho mohore of thihihihiiis! Hahahahaahaahah! Juhuhuhust fuhuhuhuckin' leheheheeave me!"

Logan managed to pitifully gasp out as he squirmed like mad and put a foot against the wall to aid in his extraction attempts.

"I'm afraid that's not my M.O. I will never abandon a friend in need. I'm with you until the end!"

Nicepool smiled with blissful ignorance, unable to comprehend that his "help" was not wanted in the least while Logan was practically at his wits end.

"I'll gihihihive yahaha 'til the cohohount of- !"

As he uttered those last words his claws finally came free, instantly retracting into his body as the force of his struggle sent them both hurtling backwards with Logan landing on top of Wade, the weight of his bulk squeezing the air out of Wade's lungs.

As Wade regained his breath, Logan swiftly rolled off of him to stand up. He then reached down and grabbed Wade by the front of his suit, lifting him off the ground to growl ferociously into his face.

"I'm gonna give ya one, and only one warning.....Do not ever EVER fucking do that again."

"Is that a request or a demand? Because I think you could benefit from having a laugh every now and- "

"WILSON....!!"

"Okay okay, fine. No more tickles for the big, grouchy feral with the cutest giggle that I've ever heard."

Wade puts his hand up in the air in concession while crossing fingers behind his back. Weapon X seemed somewhat satisfied with that and roughly set him back down with a glare before turning to walk away.

"One warning, Wade. That's it."

He hadn't made it ten steps before he felt fingers dancing along his sides again, his eyes bursting into flames as he spun around with claws already deployed.

"You're fucking dead!!"

"It was wooooorth iiiiit!"

The last thing that could be heard were the snarls of one pissed off Weapon X along with Wade's screams of pain.

[agneslovestheinternet-blog]

FUCK YOU, don't leave me

Part Two: Three Weeks (Read Part One here)

Gally x Fem!Reader

3 weeks have passed since the incident that took your feud with Gally to fiery new heights. Apologies have been exchanged, wounds are healing, and you’re trying your very best to move on despite Gally’s recent bout of strange behavior. In the midst of his mounting distraction and your continued efforts to return to business-as-usual, you receive an order from Alby that has you questioning your enemy’s motives like never before.

Genre: enemies to lovers, spice (very briefly it’s mostly plot)

Word Count: 3K  Read Time: 12 Minutes

Warnings & Info: very light very brief sexual content, language, had to change the POV for this one it’s omniscient, movie!Gally, only Glader slang is shank, not the only girl in The Glade, nonessential OC’s added

Author’s Note: At first I thought this fic was gonna be a oneshot, then two parts, and now it’s honestly looking more like four. Hope y’all enjoy reading this one as much as I’m enjoying writing it; it really heats up in the next part (there’s smut lol);)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s been 3 weeks since the bonfire incident and every one of the days within them has been grueling for you. 3 weeks of apologies; to Alby, Newt, Elsie, Thomas, Ben, Lierale, Chuck and anyone else that had the misfortune of being near the bonfire that night. 3 weeks of waking up stiff from a night of sleeping in The Pit (Alby’s punishment). 3 weeks of evacuating the med-hut everytime Gally needed a check-up. 3 weeks of busy work and late shifts, trying to silently repay Clint and Jeff for their services that night by doing all the jobs they hate doing. 3 weeks of doing your own wound care. 3 weeks of staying out of everyone’s way and trying but failing to avoid the stares. And hardest of all, 3 weeks of having to come to terms with the fact that you’d finally gone too far. 

You had always prided yourself on only fighting Gally back in a defensive manner; only pushing back as much as he pulled you. But this stunt had thrown that streak out the window. Though it didn’t change the way you felt about him, you had to admit that scarring him permanently with an alcohol-fueled bonfire was hardly an appropriate punishment for slut-shaming and verbal harassment. 

For the first 3 days after the incident you were only let out of The Pit to go to the bathroom and shower. Alby had agreed to let you return to normal duties, if you continued to sleep in The Pit every night and didn’t socialize outside of work. But the main condition of your parole, (and the hardest one to fulfill), was an apology to Gally. It had taken place behind the Map Room, (a neutral location), and Alby had invited himself, Minho and Ben to keep the peace. Despite the countless apologies that had flowed from your lips like a never-ending tap, this one seemed to all but dry you up.

You had found it hard to meet Gally’s eyes at first, choosing to scan the bandages wrapped tightly around his strong arms, which were crossed in front of his chest. Your eyes finally settled on the prominent veins on the top of his left hand as you struggled to choke out the words.

“I’m sorry Gally,” you’d started, devoid of emotion. You lifted your head to meet his eyes. 

“You’re a dumb asshole…” Alby, Minho, and Ben moved in closer. “...but you didn’t deserve that,” you finished earnestly. 

“I am sorry that I hurt you. I hope it makes you feel better that I am also very hurt,” you continued with a dryer tone, motioning to the bandages wrapped around your chest and hands, a small smile tugging at your lips. Gally had returned it, against his better judgement. He looked to Alby, who gave him a reassuring nod.

“I’m sorry too, Y/N,” he said with a blank expression on his face.

“You’re the worst shank I’ve ever met…” Minho rolled his eyes. “...but I shouldn't have called you a slut. It’s not your fault all the guys around here only think with their dick,” he finished, using a softer tone that didn’t suit his defensive stance.

“And it does make me feel better, by the way,” he shrugged, nodding his head at the bandages poking out of your shirt.

“How about you shake on it?” Alby suggested cooly.

“No way,” you stated bluntly, your eyes narrowing as they never left Gally’s.

“Fuck no,” Gally scoffed, still staring at you. “The apology was painful enough,”

“Alright fine,” Alby conceded. “Get back to work. And if either of you come anywhere near each other, you’ll be living in The Pit until the next greenie comes up, am I clear?”

“Crystal,” Gally replied, finally turning his eyes to Alby’s face. You nodded slowly. Alby looked suspicious, but he waved his hand to dismiss you both. You both turned abruptly and took off walking in opposite directions, you towards the Med-hut and Gally towards his construction site. The three makeshift peacekeepers turned the corner to enter the Map Room.

“That was an apology?” Ben asked, scanning Minho’s expression for a hint of the same shock he was experiencing. 

“If I had nearly blown up The Glade, seriously burned someone and then tried to apologize to them like that, I think Alby would throw me to The Maze and lock the doors,” Minho just shrugged his shoulders.

“That’s the best we’re gonna get from those two. I’m just glad they didn’t try to kill each other on sight,” he countered, relieved it was over. After this apology, you and Gally had resumed your persistent yet unspoken agreement to never find yourselves near each other and any vague plots of revenge had died quickly, much to everybody’s relief. But it wasn’t exactly business as usual for Gally.

His 3 weeks have gone by a little differently than yours. 3 weeks of changing drainage-soaked bandages. 3 weeks of constant jokes about your outburst from his crew. 3 weeks of being watched like a hawk for any lingering retaliation plots. 3 weeks of being interrogated by his friends about his feelings on the matter. 3 weeks of daily check-ups in the med-hut by Clint & Jeff. 3 weeks of an extremely early curfew & a laundry list of extra chores set in place by Alby, who assured him that his role in the incident would not go unpunished. But he can deal with all of that.

The thing he’s having a harder time dealing with is how distracted he’s been. It’s so obvious that something’s bothering him that his crew has taken notice, his friends are concerned and even you can tell something’s not quite right. And that’s the thing that’s really been bothering him these last three weeks. The racing thoughts that are so out of character, Gally would rather fight a Griever barehanded than tell anyone about them.

The thoughts crept in slowly, like the beginning of a fever. He knew what he saw in the Med-hut that night and he knew his reaction. Arousal, obviously. He didn’t try to deny it to himself; that would have been pointless. But he did come up with a million justifications for it, each one weaker than the last.

I was drunk. 

He’d repeat to himself like a mantra. 

I was drunk and in pain and not in my right mind. 

He’d repeat with less confidence.  

I’m a repressed teenage boy who’s spent 3 years in a prison, most of that time with only other teenage boys. 

He’d continue, committing this list of contingencies to memory. 

That’s just a normal reaction for a boy to have when seeing a girl shirtless. It’s got nothing to do with feelings; it’s just human nature.

He’d think, coming up with some bullshit biological, animalistic, purely knee-jerk reason for the way his cheeks flushed while looking at you. The way he suddenly felt dizzy and not from the pain. The way his eyes widened and his thoughts immediately derailed into an X-rated movie.

I can’t fucking stand her. 

He’d always save this justification for last as it seemed to bring a finality to the matter. That just because he’s a warm-blooded male with the same instincts and needs as the rest of his species, that doesn’t change the fact that you’re the worst shank he’s ever met. So that was that. His mind had found an uneasy peace with it. Until the dreams started. 

They would come in flashes, just sensual tableaus that came right out of every abstract fantasy he’d ever come up with in the shower or late at night in his bed. Your lips on his neck, your hands gripping the coarse sheets of his bed, the feeling of plush skin beneath his hands, soft moans filling the warm air around him. He’d wake up breathless, all the warmth from his face draining to his boxers.

The fever was rising in pitch.

It was after these dreams that he’d thank the gods that his Keeper status got him a private hut so he could…take care of himself before heading off to work. But the thoughts would follow him throughout the day, spiking his body temperature each time they interrupted him.

“Watch it Gally!” a blonde-haired Builder hissed, ducking out of the way of the lumber he’d had slung over his shoulder that became a beheading hazard when he’d turned too fast. This was more than a week after the incident and Gally’s head had been preoccupied with the image of you on your knees, instead of his surroundings.

“Sorry sorry. My fault,” he’d mumbled back, trying to conceal the flush in his cheeks and cursing at himself under his breath.

“Gally the wall!” Newt had exclaimed five days later, pointing to the newly erected wooden structure that Gally had failed to notice while shoving his nose in the newest blueprints he’d drawn up. His head hit it with a hollow thump.

“Fuck,” he muttered, dropping his papers and massaging his forehead with his palm. Newt dropped his gardening hoe and jogged over.

“You alright mate?” he inquired lightly, trying to conceal the concern in his voice. If the ever-unflappable Gally had gotten to the point of literally running into walls, then there was definitely cause for concern.

“Yeah I’m fine,” Gally grumbled, shaking his head and trying to come to his senses. Unfortunately this accident had taken place in the middle of the day in one of the most trafficked areas of the Glade. And so the whispering had started. The strange glances his way during meal times, the ever growing mountain of well-meaning questions from coworkers and friends alike. The sentiment that Gally was for some reason, losing his mind, had even floated all the way into the med-hut, where you overheard it from Clint and Jeff.

“Yeah I don’t know, it's just weird. The shank’s a drill sergeant and now all the sudden he’s letting everybody off work an hour early?” Clint stated incredulously, wiping down a table that had been used to stitch up a nasty cut on a Builder’s arm a few minutes ago. The boy had come in an hour before sunset and Jeff had marveled in awe that he’d managed to convince Gally that a cut was enough of a reason to leave work early. The boy had responded, wide-eyed and with a hushed voice, that Gally let everyone out of work early, not just him.

“Maybe he’s sick. Maybe he’s been stung and this is the first phase of The Changing.” Jeff countered with a grin, emptying an armful of bloodied gauze into the fire.

“I hope not. Gally would make one hell of a Crank,” Clint scoffed and Jeff chuckled in response. You stopped pretending to go over the injury logs for the week behind the half wall that was obstructing your view of your coworkers, who you were shamelessly eavesdropping on. You rounded the corner quickly, intent on butting in.

“Gally let everyone out of work early?!” you asked dumbfounded. Clint and Jeff jumped slightly at your question and scanned your face for any trace of an outburst forming.

“Uh, yeah. It’s weird huh?,” Clint answered uneasily, still unsure of your motives. You weren’t exactly sure of your own motives so you gave a subtle nod of approval at his rhetorical question.

Why the hell would Gally let everyone out of work early? You’d seen him around the Glade with a dazed look in his eyes and you’d heard from Newt that he ran into a wall last week, but you couldn’t fathom what would be making him so distracted. You weren’t given much time to mull over the possibilities, as Alby suddenly appeared in the open door of the Med-hut, rapping curtly on the wooden door.

“Y/N, do you have a minute?” your leader asked calmly.

“Of course,” you responded quickly, trying to keep the panic flooding through your body at bay.

“Walk with me,” he motioned with his arm. You crossed the hut and followed him out the door, running through the list of everything you’ve done in the last several weeks, trying to find the discretion you were sure Alby was about to scold you for.

The sun was setting on The Glade, and it cast a distinctly romantic feeling into the air. You admired the orange and pink hues reflected onto the green grass and drank in the warm air that was punctuated by the excited chattering of your fellow Gladers in the distance, who were setting up for tonight’s bonfire. Your chest tightened at the thought. You knew you’d be the talk of the night and that everyone with a thirst for chaos would be hoping for a round 2 of your pyrotechnic prowess.

“So it’s bonfire night,” Alby broke the silence with a matter-of-fact tone.

“Yeah I know Alby. Don’t worry, I just need to clean up in the med-hut and I’ll be straight off to The Pit before it’s even dark,” You tried to get ahead of his warnings. But Alby was taken aback by this statement; he didn’t have any warnings to give. In fact quite the opposite.

“No Y/N, I want you to be there tonight,” You stopped dead in your tracks, your ears ringing slightly.

“What? Why?!” Alby tried not to be affected by your shock and continued with his well-rehearsed speech.

“I’ve spoken to Gally about this. If you two don’t go, the excitement about your incident from last month will only continue. It’s already all anyone will talk about. I know you’ve noticed that all eyes have been on you two,” he stated with a concerned look on his face that finally confirmed to you that he wasn’t joking.

“Of course I’ve noticed Alby, people call me “Firecracker” more often than my name. But if we go, it’ll be chaos,” you countered, your voice hissing slightly at the pronunciation of what was rapidly becoming your least favorite nickname. Honestly, you’d do anything to go back to your earliest days in The Glade, when a particularly cruel sect of boys started calling you “Suzy Swallows” after you’d eaten a banana at the breakfast table with a little too much gusto.

“If you both go and you both keep your temper in check,” Alby glared at you, “and you both stay sober,” he raised his voice slightly, punctuating the last word, “and everyone sees that nothing happens tonight then it will all blow over. If you don’t go, the gossip will only grow and we’ll just have to deal with it twofold next month. It’s better to rip the bandage off,” 

That last sentence was more to reassure himself than you. The Glade has to move on from this. It needs order to function and a female arsonist is the direct antithesis to that order. It’s bad enough he can’t seem to get a large sect of the boys to keep their hands off the very few girls; god forbid they all start thinking the best way to deal with that conflict is to set the place on fire.

“Is this an order, Alby?” You couldn’t think of any other protests at the moment. Alby did have a point; you and Gally not being there would almost certainly ensure that no one would be talking about anything else.

“Yes it is,” he retorted quickly. He quickly softened his tone. “Besides, you deserve a bit of a break, Y/N. You’ve been doing really good this past month. If everything goes well tonight, you can sleep in your own bed again and be free to do what you like after work,”

The sound of his praise elicited a sigh of relief that washed over your tense body like a wave of warm water. Alby knew you weren’t inherently stupid or destructive; just prone to bouts of occasional drunkenness and pigheadedness like the rest of the Gladers. He felt that your punishments had more than compensated for your crime and frankly he was starting to feel guilty every time he saw you timidly navigating your day to day activities with the demeanor of a kicked puppy.

“Ok. Let me finish up in the med-hut and get changed, and I’ll be there. Thank you, Alby,”

“You’re welcome,” he paused, a conflicted look on his face, as he pondered if he should mention one other detail of this arrangement. “You might want to thank Gally too. When I brought up this idea to him, he offered to stay in his hut and let you go tonight, but I refused. It seems despite your feud,” the corners of his mouth upturned in a slight smile, “he thinks you deserve a break, too,” Alby continued in the direction you’d both been walking in, still wondering if it had been wise to divulge that fact to you. He wasn’t sure if it would soften your anger towards Gally but he was confident it couldn’t make it any worse. You had remained frozen in place, bewilderment setting in rapidly.

What the fuck??

Gally had offered to do something…kind for you? He’d offered to sit out bonfire night, the one night a month in which he can let off steam by beating the shit out of greenies and getting his friends drunk, for you? You turned your head slightly, wondering if you were about to watch The Glade freeze over or The Maze come crumbling down, as the likelihood of those things happening seemed higher than the likelihood of what you’d just been told. You shook your head to clear the confusion and started half-running, half-walking to the Med-hut, finally letting the excitement of getting to do something fun for the first time in a month swell in your chest.

You never thought you would ever feel the sentiment that came to your mind next. It went against every instinct you had and all the history you’d established in your time in The Glade. But you couldn’t help it, the warm feeling of gratitude spread through your chest quickly and you found yourself muttering a very unusual string of words as you approached the Med-hut doors.

“Thank you Gally,”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tags: @katie-tibo @my-little-universes @vaille123

[wolfpants]

writer questions

Thank you so much for the tags, @houndsinhades @citrusses @arminaa8! I loved reading your responses! What a talented, thoughtful bunch of lovelies you all are.

How many works do you have on ao3? 72

What is your total wordcount? 821k

Top 5 stories by kudos:

Romp and Circumstance (Drarry) Pages of You (Drarry, Wolfstar) Forever Live and Die (Wolfstar) Led by Light of a Star Sweetly Gleaming (Wolfstar) Terrible People (Drarry)

Do you respond to comments? I read and respond to every comment! I'm not always timely with it (usually because I freeze up trying to figure out something to say other than a bashful 'thank you!').

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending? It's between In My Room and The Hollow. Probably The Hollow.

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending? Gotta be Pages of You. I wanted that fic to exude queer joy.

Do you write crossovers? Not yet!

Have you received hate for a fic? Sure. Plenty of times. In My Room seems to have caused a lot of contention, either for the character choices (they're teenagers, and they make a lot of mistakes, and not everyone is good all the time), or just for the way it's written.

Do you write smut? Hello, pervert.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I'm aware!

Have you ever had a fic translated? No. I'm boring and don't allow translations of my fics :(

Have you ever co-written a fic before? I'm currently in the process! It's been so much fun. I'm learning a lot about [censored]! @citrusses and I can't wait to share this with the world. Watch this space...

What is your all-time favourite ship? Drarry. Closely followed by Wolfstar, Dron, and Sirry.

What's a WIP you want to finish but don't think you ever will? *stares at WIP graveyard* I mean. I have a lot here. The sequel to In My Room isn't quite dead yet but it's not looking great. I also have a fairly hefty Drarry matchmaking romcom fic that I'm not sure will ever see the light of day...

What are your writing strengths? Outlining, organising, etc.

What are your writing weaknesses? Pacing, emotion, beginnings and endings (endings especially) I always struggle with. Letting my self doubt steal my pen away from me.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in another language? I'd only do this if I had a native speaker to consult/work with.

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written yet but would like to? I think I've written pretty much all HP ships I enjoy (and if I haven't, you will see them appear soon in Kinkuary...). But there are a few fandoms I'd love to write for! If I was brave enough...

Inception House of the Dragon Captive Prince Snowbaz

What's your favourite fic you've ever written? I think my writing was probably strongest at The Hollow. That's where I peaked 😂 But my personal favourite, story-wise, is probably Pages. I'm really proud of that one, and even though it has kinks and bumps in it, it's still my first Drarry, my longest fic, and the one I think I poured most of my heart into.

tagging @hoko-onchi-writes @the-invisibility-bloke @magpiefngrl @skeptiquewrites @sorrybutblog @toomuchplor and anyone who wants a go!

[sequinsmile-x]

Please could you write a one shot of Emily being stood up by a guy and Hotch is there to console her and accidentally tells her he loves her

(This may or may not be motivated by sad me who’s just been stood up and I’m really sad haha)

Love your stuff ❤️❤️

Hi bestie <3

I am so so sorry that this took so long to do. I hope you're okay and that you know the guy who stood you up doesn't deserve you!!

I hope you enjoy this! <3

(I know I promised some Emily whump but the fic wasn't behaving so I wrote this instead haha)

-x-

Everything's Here and Nothing's Lost

As she sits at her desk and looks nothing short of sad, her smile not reaching her eyes anytime anyone speaks to her, it worries him. Makes familiar doubt and concern creep up his neck, his skin burning with it as he tries to work out what is wrong.

AKA - the one where Emily has a bad day, Aaron checks on her and everything changes between them.

-x-

Words: 3.5k

Warnings: they are really, really, stupid in this.

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

There was something wrong with Emily. 

Ever since she’d come home from Paris, she’d been different. It was as if she was just about holding herself together, her ability to hide anything from Aaron gone the moment they’d made their deal that she’d tell him when she was having a bad day. Part of him had been surprised when she kept up her end of the bargain, when she’d done as he’d asked, the action itself a sign of how much she was struggling.

Since then, they’d got closer again, their friendship stitched back together until it was where it had been before she’d died to almost everyone but him. Before she’d pulled back from him and Jack in what he now knew was an attempt to keep them safe from Ian Doyle. They’d been getting close to something more than friends at the time, her constant support after his attack and then Haley’s death the bedrock he’d rebuilt his life on. She’d always been there - always bringing him and Jack meals and keeping them company with no expectation of anything in return. Jack had been drawn to her, always glued to her side and seeking her out in a way Aaron was strangely jealous of, envy he wasn’t proud of churning in his gut over the fact his son was able to show his love for Emily in a way he wasn’t able to himself. 

Shortly before she got what he now knew was a phone call that changed the trajectory of her life, they’d been working towards something more. Talking around the idea of going on a date as if they were teenagers in love for the first time, not adults who’d both seen more than their fair share of pain and heartbreak. When she suddenly pulled back - cancelling their tentatively planned date with what had felt like a hurried excuse even without the context of what was going on - he assumed she’d decided she didn’t want to date a single father, that she realised it was more than she was willing to take on. 

As he’d stood over her grave just a few weeks later, he’d felt guilty for that assumption, that he’d thought so little of her when he should have seen the signs something was wrong. He knew he was in love with her then, and that he had been for a long time. All the what-ifs and should have beens so suffocating he’d be torn from sleep most nights, breathless as if the weight of everything he’d lost and never had was sitting on his chest and the side of the bed she’d never even slept in achingly empty. He visited her in the hospital before she was moved. He held her hand and talked to her even though she wasn’t entirely conscious, and he kissed her cheek, three little words he wished he’d said sooner stamped against her skin. He’d told himself at her funeral, dirt from the soil he’d thrown on top of her casket caught in the cuff of his pants, that he’d make sure when he got her back, he’d be whatever she needed him to be - even if it was just her friend. 

Dave had told him more than once that he needed to move on, his smile knowing and kind as he told him everyone knew about him and Emily and how they had felt for each other, but that he needed to consider that it might be something that had simply passed them both by. He’d even encouraged Aaron to go on a date with the woman he’d met in the park when training for his triathlon, but it hadn’t gone anywhere beyond that. Every time she laughed or asked him a question Emily already knew the answer to, he felt as if he was doing something wrong, as if he was cheating on a woman he’d never even kissed. 

Emily had been his best friend for a long time, and it was strange for him to think that he once hadn’t trusted her, now she was the person he trusted the most. She’d shown him time and time again that she was the opposite of everything he’d assumed her to be when they first met, and he’d occasionally still feel a flash of guilt if he thought about it too long. She’d make fun of him for it now, smiling as she reminded him how he didn’t like her at first, a sparkle in her eyes that he thought had died with her when it was just the two of them. 

Today, as she sits at her desk and looks nothing short of sad, her smile not reaching her eyes anytime anyone speaks to her, it worries him. Makes familiar doubt and concern creep up his neck, his skin burning with it as he tries to work out what is wrong. He watches from his office as she gets up from her desk, her mug in her hand as she walks towards the kitchen. She walks away without offering to make anyone else a cup of coffee, her head down as she slips away unnoticed, and it forces him upwards, his hand reaching for his still mostly full cup of coffee as he heads out of his office, dumping the coffee into a potted plant on his way past. 

She smiles at him when he makes it to the kitchen, her eyebrow raised curiously as she looks at his mug, “You’re going through those quickly today.” 

“Oh,” he says, furrowing his brow as he tries to think of something to say that doesn’t make it seem like he’s checking up on her, “I didn’t sleep great last night, I need something to keep me awake doing his paperwork.” 

The teasing edge to her smile slips away and she looks concerned. It’s so achingly her to worry about him when she was clearly upset herself that he thinks in another world, in a world where she was his and they weren’t in the office that he’d lean forward and kiss her for it.

“Is everything okay?” 

He nods and reaches for the coffee pot, watching intently as she drops a tea bag into her mug, “Just one of those nights, you know.”

She hums and nods, “I do.” 

He waits her out for a few seconds, waiting to see if she’ll say anything else, but she avoids eye contact as she pours boiling water into her mug as if she’d worried she’ll spill everything the moment their eyes meet. 

“Em,” he says, using a nickname that was usually reserved for outside the office, a switch from using her surname that makes her look up at him, “Are you okay?” 

She nods before he’s even finished speaking, “I’m fine.” 

He sighs, “You know you can talk to me-”

“I said I’m fine,” she replies, snapping in a way she regrets immediately as she sighs, shaking her head at herself and swallowing thickly, “Sorry,” she says, looking around to make sure she hadn’t drawn any attention to them, “I didn’t mean to…” she presses her lips together, forcing a smile he’s seen her give her mother more than once, “I’m fine.” 

As she walks away, he’s somehow even more worried than he already was. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and sends Jessica a text, a plan formulating in his head as he walks back to his office. 

Can Jack stay with you tonight? There’s something I need to do. 

___

She huffs out a breath as she sits down on the couch, a glass of wine in one hand and a menu for her favourite Chinese restaurant in the other. Sergio jumps onto the couch and meows at her, nudging one of her hands until she drops the menu between them and scratches his head. 

“What shall we watch tonight, Serg? A movie? Or some reality trash?” She says, smiling when he meows again, “Reality trash it is.” She picks up the menu again and sighs when the doorbell rings, “Who the hell is that?” She grumbles as she stands up, throwing the blanket she’d put over her lap off as she goes. She’s only partly surprised when she looks through the peephole and sees Aaron, and she rolls her eyes as she pulls the door open, “I said I was fine.” 

“Hello to you too, Em,” he says, holding up a bag of food from the restaurant she’d been about to order from, “I bought your favourite,” he smiles as he holds up a bag with his other hand, “And candy,” his smile gets slightly wider as she struggles to hide her own smile, “Can I come in?” 

She sighs and stands back to let him walk past her, “Since you brought food, I guess I have no choice.” 

“I know how to work my way in here,” He chuckles and walks to her kitchen, placing the bags of food down on the counter before he starts unpacking it, “I got your usual order.” 

She has to suppress a smile at that, her lips pressed tightly together as it warms something in her chest, something she’d shoved down to the very bottom of it months ago. A vague hope she’d shoved in a box almost set free as the lid slips away at his gentle kindness. 

“Thanks,” she replies, walking over as she watches him get out plates and chopsticks - as aware of the layout of her kitchen as he was her own, “I just poured some wine, do you want some?” 

“I’ll have a glass,” he says, smiling at her in a way that never failed to make her stomach flip, his eyes sparkling with something that felt like hers even though it never had been. She nods and swallows thickly, desperately trying to push the feelings she’d ignored for months back down to where they belonged. Where she cultivated them, kept them safe and tried to stop them from blooming any further, worried that she was only ever one moment away from blurting them out and letting them shatter her heart on the way past. 

She was in love with him. It happened slowly. It crept up on her, kept its pace with her until it was right behind her, its warm hand wrapped around her neck. For a little while, she thought that maybe they could become something, that the shy smiles and the lingering hugs would shift into them being together like she’d wanted for longer than she cared to admit. They came close, and had even arranged a date, but everything changed when Ian escaped from prison. She knew if he found out how close she was to Aaron and Jack, he’d use that knowledge to hurt her, that he’d hurt them, and it was the last thing she wanted. She’d pulled back, made an excuse she couldn’t remember to cancel their date and she stopped spending her spare time with them. 

It hurt. It made her feel like she’d ripped her own heart out, the imprints of her misshapen nails puncturing it in a way she’d never recover from when Aaron tried to cover how hurt he was. 

He visited her in the hospital before she was moved for her safety. He’d sat next to her, his hand warm around hers when everything else felt so cold, as he whispered that he’d make sure he brought her home. She remembered very little about it other than his promise and the press of his skin against hers. The pain she was in and the meds that were supposed to fight it overrode everything else. 

Sometimes, she thought that he might have kissed her cheek. Fuzzy memories of his lips against her pallid skin that she could never quite place properly, unsure if it was real or a dream. 

He’d been her rock since she came home, providing the support she hadn’t known she needed or how to ask for. Part of her, a part that felt strangely optimistic, a hangover of who she’d been when she was young and nothing bad had happened to her yet, had hoped that they’d go back to where they were. There were moments when she thought that maybe they were getting there. He’d smile at her or do something like come to her apartment with food when she was sad and she’d think maybe he does still feel that way.

Then she’d remind herself that Penelope had told her he’d gone on a date with someone he’d met in the park, and it would hurt all over again. 

“Shall we go sit down?” He asks, handing her the food he’d plated up for her, and she smiles and nods, passing him the glass of wine she had no memory of pouring. 

He sits on the end of the couch that she’d long since considered his, and he smiles at Sergio as he sits down, scratching behind the cat’s ears once he’s got a free hand. “Hi, Sergio.” 

She smiles as Sergio lays down next to him, his back pressed against Aaron’s thigh, and she chuckles, “And you say he hates you.” 

“He pooped in my shoe, Em,” he says dryly, his smile letting her know he wasn’t annoyed and she laughs. 

“That’s his way of showing love.” 

“Whatever you say.” He laughs, bold and bright and goofy in a way she loves and he takes a bite of his dinner. They eat in companionable silence. It’s the kind of silence she’d missed sharing with someone, comforting and gentle in the air around them as they were happy to just be with each other, neither one of them feeling the need to make small talk as the minutes ticked on. Eventually, once they have finished eating, he puts his plate on the coffee table and takes her’s from her too, “You know you can tell me what’s going on, right?” 

She sighs, “Aaron-”

“You can tell me anything,” he says, his expression serious, something that looked too close to regret and guilt shining in his eyes that makes her feel nauseous. She knew it was her fault that he was worried, that he was likely thinking of worst-case scenarios and big secrets, “Even if it is that you were a spy for another government agency,” he smiles when she chokes on a laugh and shakes her head, “I’d be impressed you find the time for it though.” 

“It’s nothing like that,” she assures him, shifting so her knees are against her chest and her arms are around her legs, “I…” she sighs, her cheeks burning with embarrassment as she continues, “Penelope convinced me to let her set me up on a blind date.” 

She’d refused at first, firm and forceful as she said no, but eventually, her friend wore her down after one too many cocktails and a reminder that Aaron was dating someone else.

“Oh,” he says, a flash of what looks like hurt in his eyes that makes her curious and angry all at once, because she never would have done anything if he hadn’t done it first, “That's…how was it?” 

She scoffs, “Pretty awful considering the guy never showed up.” 

He furrows his brows, “What? He never showed up for a date with you?” 

His indignation makes her smile sadly, her lips pressed together as she shrugs, “Either that or he showed up, saw me and decided to leave,” she chuckles dryly, “I think for the sake of my self-worth I need to tell myself he just never showed up at all.” 

He squeezes his hands into fists at his side, anger flashing through him at the thought of someone hurting her like that, “Does Garcia know him? I could make sure he-”

“Aaron,” she says, reaching out to touch his arm, “It’s okay. I don’t want to date someone who is clearly a jerk anyway.” 

He nods, and swallows thickly, his gaze falling down to her hand on his arm, something about her touch making him feel brave, “I…I didn’t realise you were ready to date.”

She draws her hand back, only realising she is still touching him when he looks at her hand, and she clears her throat, “I wanted to try. And it didn’t exactly work out.” 

He looks up at her, “I guess I just thought when you were ready, if you were ready, you’d let me know.” 

She frowns at him, “Why?” 

He laughs humourlessly, “So we could go on a date?” 

She can’t help but laugh at the simple way he says it and she stands up, forced upwards by righteous anger as she starts to pace back and forth, “So you can fit me into your busy schedule?” 

Aaron frowns at her, “What do you mean?” 

“I know you went on a date with that woman you met in the park,” she says, her fury over the situation finally set free, “I thought we might be able to make things work, that everything with Ian hadn’t changed things for you, but it clearly has. And that’s okay,” she says, the crack in her voice giving away her lie, “I just wish you’d told me.” 

He stands too, everything slotting into place as he shakes his head, “Em, no-”

“I think you should go,” she says, swallowing thickly, her eyes burning with tears she refuses to shed in front of him, “I need some time-”

“Em, I need you to listen to me-”

“No, I’ve heard enough, I am done-”

She’s cut off as he surges forward and kisses her, his hands on her cheeks as he holds her in place. She melts into it immediately, her lips slotting against his as she sags against him, as if he was both drawing the life out of her and replacing it with something more powerful than she’d ever known. It was everything she knew it would be and more, and suddenly she knows he kissed her cheek in the hospital, the press of his lips against hers unlocking the memory in its entirety, the declaration of love he’d stamped her skin echoing around in her head. She pulls back, her breath stuttering around her lungs as she rests her forehead against his, unable to pull away even if she wants to, her body frozen in place. 

“I went on one date,” he says, his hands drifting from her cheeks down to her waist as he pulls back to look at her, “And that’s only because Dave told me I had to try to move on.” 

She sucks in a breath, hope sparking low in her gut again, “Really?” 

“Really,” he assures her, “I spent the whole time thinking of you and paid for dinner before I told her I couldn’t see her again. It wouldn’t be fair on any of us, including her, for me to date her when I’m in love with you.” 

She’s sure if she wasn’t being held up by him, she’d have fallen over, and she sighs in relief, tears she could no longer hold back falling onto her cheeks. She leans forward and presses her forehead against his.

“I’m in love with you too,” she says, laughing in a way that sounds almost hysterical, “I only agreed to go on the date Pen set up to try and move on.” She adds, and he kisses her again, and she wraps her arms around his neck, not wanting him to go anywhere. She knows it’s the start of something new, of the love she’d always been searching for without knowing it, and she hugs him when the kiss comes to an end, her head against his chest as he holds her close. “We’re idiots.” 

He laughs, and it passes from his chest to hers, the rumble of it a gift she can feel ripple out into the room around them, “At least we’re each other’s idiots.” 

She smiles as she looks up at him, her teeth sinking into her lower lip, “At least there’s that,” she says, her smile slipping into a frown and she sighs. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks, tucking her hair behind her ear, his touch soft and reverent. She leans into it as she replies, huffing out a breath as she shakes her head.  

“If Dave and Pen somehow made this happen by setting us up on dates they knew wouldn’t work out, I’m going to kill them.” 

He briefly tightens his hold on her, and he chuckles and shakes his head, unsure that Penelope would go as far as setting up Emily on a date that wasn’t to happen, but also aware he wouldn’t put it past either her or Dave. 

“Really?” He asks, smiling at her, “Because I think I might buy them a drink.” 

[hxrsheykisses]

OMGGG HAIIII, JUST FOUND OUT YOU HAVE A TUMBLR!! :3 👉👈

I really love your writing and overall just everything in the fic btw!! 💜💜💜 (Srry idk how to compliment)

Everytime i checked Ao3 and seeing you updated your fanfic, I couldn't but squeal cuz there's not much Eltingville x reader fanfics in Ao3 that's not smut or weird stuffs (I'm starved)

Srry for rambling but I just wanna let you know that I'm a fan,, 👉👈👉👈👉👈 <:3333 💜💜

AHHHHHH OH MY GOD THANK YOU!!!♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️ I am aware that nearly all the fics under the Eltingville Club tag are heinous…when I first came across some of those fics it just pushed me to make my own because what the heck💔 Even the ones that aren’t weird don’t fulfill me enough because I NEED to have a epic story that has multiple chapters! I NEED IT!!!

And it also encouraged me to make a tumblr account dedicated to the fandom because we need more. We need more eltingville content. I understand the struggle and the suffering when you’re really into a fandom but there’s hardly anything dedicated to it…it’s even worse when some of the stuff that you come around are downright heinous and that’s the only thing that you can get your hands on…it’s a sad world. So, I just knew that I HAD to do something about this…which is plan out the whole story months in advance and make sure to upload some LENGTHY chapters to keep my readers interested.

It’s also lowkey my dream to become that one popular person in a small fandom that everyone knows and loves. Like I love that. I love the thought SO MUCH AND IT MAKES ME WANT TO EXPLODE♥️♥️♥️♥️

I love seeing my readers follow me on platforms because it just makes me SO HAPPYYYYY!!! So I appreciate you, the others who came from my Ao3 account, AND the ones who are slowly making their way over here. With each comment it just makes my day better and I appreciate every single one.

Love you!! 💋💋💋💋💋💋💋

[floofanflurr]

Silly floofy silly floofy

Can you tell me about Sans + Paps + Frisky in the pirate au (raccoon me one) AND if you feel like it their relationship with their dear old crusty dad?

I need moooooore loooooore

Hehehehe

WOOHOO!! I SURE CAN!!!! Let's break this down :) (WARNING - THIS POST MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS FOR A FUTURE FIC OF MINE. That will take a long time to write tho, if I ever do, so...)

Sans: The quartermaster of the Sail La Vie - the Captain's right hand man. He's a lazy, laid-back kind of dude, and not one you would expect to be a pirate. When the Sail La Vie is docked, you can find him at the local taverns and houses of ill repute... After all, people drop the most important information when they're comfortable, and Sans is great at making people underestimate him.

He frequently runs small time cons. Shell games, melon drops, weighted dice... Afterwards, he gives the money back, or buys his victim a drink with their own cash. It's a good way to build up a friendly reputation. They don't even realize they were conned.

Upon shore or ship, Sans naps in the strangest areas. Crates and rigging, roofs and the ship deck. Even on the mast itself.

Everyone knows that Sans is entirely devoted to his brother, the Captain of the Sail La Vie.

...Sans is also working as King Asgore's Royal Judge under the table.

Asgore and Sans have an agreement - Sans will work for him if he leaves his brother and his father alone despite their crimes and desertion. It's a tenacious situation that only they are aware of. On this note, Sans is required to ensure the ship never targets monster victims - humans and mages are their only marks.

Sometimes, Asgore points them to human navy ships, and Sans ensures they're taken care of. They aren't a military vessel... but yet, things are more complicated than one may think. They aren't free from the crown's control. But Sans ensures that his crew (and his brother) will never know that.

Sans is under orders to collect mage souls. And to never, ever leave one living after an encounter. Otherwise, it's his brother and father's skulls on the line.

Papyrus: The Great Captain of the Sail La Vie! He inherited the hat from his adoptive father, Dr. W.D. Gaster. Papyrus is a boisterous fellow who took a while to fall into piracy, despite his father's own occupation. For a large portion of his childhood, Papyrus wanted to join the Royal Navy in order to protect monsters from mages.

...He was in the room when his parents were killed by a water mage, after all. He may have only been three years old, but he can't forget. He's very glad that Sans didn't see it, and that he doesn't know the details.

Sans doesn't know Papyrus remembers, and Papyrus would very much like to keep it that way!

Sans doesn't know that Papyrus knows a lot of things.

...Well! Onto the next bit. Papyrus prefers mercy over death - when he can, he likes to target human ships and navy vessels and use fear tactics. He'll kill when he has to, but he'd really rather not. He and Sans mostly go after the ships that cause monsters the most grief.

And while Papyrus can't say he's comfortable around mages, Papyrus doesn't really want to kill them, either. He'd rather talk them down! But he'll kill when necessary.

...And Papyrus knows they'll end up dead, even if he spares them. He's thankful that there aren't many mages around - the magic increasingly rare.

Frisk: A water mage. Or, in other terms, a mer. Frisk struggles to control their magic, and is often stuck with a tail instead of legs. Which... is less than ideal, because it means they can't hide their heritage. And the crown doesn't like unregulated mages very much...

Frisk's mama always hid them away when she could, but Mama died years ago and the human navy found Frisk.

You can now find them aboard various navy vessels - kept in a tank or a tub and gawked at as they try to train Frisk up into a regulated mage to be used in their war. Thankfully, Frisk really isn't the best at control, and it means they don't have to fight just yet.

Less good is that makes them little more than a pet or worse to the sailors on board.

Most humans really don't like mages.

Frisk's life is just them trying to survive and learn how to control their magic so they can run away as soon as possible. They really aren't expecting it when the screaming starts and fighting shakes the ship. Most of the time, the sailors try to direct battles to the other parties ship.

Frisk definitely isn't expecting the tall skeleton that bursts his way into the hold where Frisk is kept, or the way his face falls when he sees them.

Frisk has heard the tales of Captain Papyrus. He and his crew are a horror story for mages. A tall skeleton, the harbinger of death, adorned with blood reds.

Not a single mage has ever survived meeting the Sail La Vie or its Captain.

"...WELL. SHOOT."

Frisk can only agree.

Sans's relationship with Gaster: Sans loves the man. Enough to sell his pride and services to the crown to keep him safe. They bond over science, though Sans never got a chance to pursue it formally - life on the sea and Gaster's own reputation snatched away the possibility. But Sans has never forgotten what Gaster did for them when he took in two orphaned children and gave them a home, and so Sans can't bring himself to resent him too much for that.

Sans is constantly harping on Gaster to actually settle down for once. The old man is going to get himself killed if he keeps up his skirmishes. He needs to actually retire.

There are a few odd tensions between the two - Gaster's decision to fall into piracy still hanging over their heads. But ultimately, they love each other and get along quite well. Many puns are thrown around when they're together.

Papyrus's relationship with Gaster: The same as Sans, in most cases. He loves and respects his father! And admires his skill in protecting those he loves. He... disagrees with some of his more brutal tactics and policies, but Sans employs those same methods, so Papyrus can't really complain.

Papyrus was thrilled when Gaster trusted him enough to pass Captain-hood down to him.

Papyrus would do nearly anything to keep the man safe. ...Which is why Papyrus hasn't called Sans out on a few noteworthy things.

AAAND there we have my ramble!!! FEEL FREE TO ASK MORE QUESTIONS I LOVE TALKING ABOUT MY AUS AND WORKS. Ah, yes, and for anyone that read this far and wants to read more... Here. A fic about what Gaster is up to while Sans and Papyrus are busy finding mermaid children.

[akystaracer22]

Calm Down, Jayce.

This was done for a soulmate AU I'm writing called Icarian Heart (My Last Words of Love). However that AU is set in Mage Viktor's past. This is set in the canon loop. Bascially, the council room scene but it's also a soulmate AU and very fucked up. Viewer discretion is advised.

TW: emotional abuse, mind control, emotional manipulation, abuse of soulmarks, jayce whump, jayce is really going through it, glorious evolution, season 2 episode 8, arcane spoilers, brainwashing, hurt/comfort, machine herald viktor

Fic under cut.

Jayce shuddered, the world warping behind his eyes as he tried to recover from the arcane assault on his mind. He panted, trying to keep his defenses up even as his leg fucking screamed at him. He was tired, hungry, in agony, and the last thing he needed right now was this- anything but this.

Anything but him.

“Allow us a moment of civility, Jayce,” The thing that stalked towards him was not his partner, it couldn’t be his partner his partner was fucking dead- “We must talk.”

“Viktor,” Jayce carefully placed himself between the automaton and Mel. He slowly approached it with his guard up, “How did you get in here?”

“You once benefitted from my knowledge of this place.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“Had you given me the chance, I would have shown you the merits of my work. Our work.”

“No,” Jayce snapped, tensing up in preparation, “This is your obsession. Everything you've done to these people, you did alone.”

Jayce swung, missing the thing by inches. He tried to compensate, firing at it but it was too fast- Janna why was it so fast?

“Perhaps,” The monster hummed, hiding among the columns as Jayce hunted it, “But I'm alone no longer. I now speak with all their voices.”

“Just say what you came here to say,” Jayce growled, his shoulders tight with tension as he aimed around, trying to get a lock on it with his glitches.

“Somehow I think you already understand what must transpire to complete my mission,” It huffed, sounding amused in a way that sent alarms through Jayce’s mind, “I would prefer to do so in peace. The Noxian has other intentions.”

“Mother?”

Jayce glitched, twisting around and not even letting himself hesitate before firing a blast at the Evolved. Wincing in pain at the pressure in his leg. He could feel the shards of bone tearing into his muscles. He couldn’t rest- he couldn’t rest-

“Viktor,” Jayce snarled, “For all our sakes. Stay. Away. From the Hexgates!”

He charged forward, dragging the Mercury Hammer across the ground with the intention of pulverising the doll. It dodged, because of course it did, and retaliated in a way that made him want to scream in pain. He braced himself on the council table, shaking as he tried to recover.

“Your mind has become rigid, Jayce,” It sounded like it was mourning and Jayce wanted to fucking cry. It wasn’t fair, it was his partner who was dead. Why the hell did it sound sad, “Fear clouds your judgment.”

Desperately, Jayce turned around for another strike with his hammer, his movements sloppy and haggard and-

It jumped over the blow, and he felt its finger’s on his forehead.

No. nonononono-

Pure animalistic fear blinded him in an instant. His soulmark burning as he thrashed in the puppets grip. The puppet seemed unperturbed, wrapping its limbs around him to keep him trapped. The arcane screamed in his ear as he struggled. He couldn’t hear anything above the static in his mind.

“Jayce? Hm, it seems you’re too stressed to listen to reason.”

And then a powerful wave of calm, love, and joy blanketed his thoughts. He faltered in confusion, but the emotions pressed down harder on his consciousness. It was a powerful insistence; telling him to relax and that everything was okay and he was fine and he should be happy and his partner was here.

He blinked tiredly, his eyes drifting down as he noticed a pressure on his wrist, the one with Viktor’s stone. The doll had its own wrist pressed to it. The one where Viktor’s soulmark was.

… Oh.

Jayce tried to muster up enough energy to fight, struggling weakly at the realisation that these weren’t his emotions he was feeling. It was whatever Viktor was projecting through the half bond, whatever Viktor wanted him to feel. It wasn’t-

“Shh, calm down, Jayce,” Viktor purred in his ear, those warm happy listen obey love safe calm emotions pressing in harder, clouding Jayce’s mind, “That’s it, calm. Isn’t that better Kámo?”

Happiness surged through the bond and Jayce hummed in agreement, going limp in Viktor’s grasp as his partner chuckled, “See? There’s no need to be so upset, Jayce. The glorious evolution is destined, can’t you see now? What you are feeling now is only a fraction of the peace that our work will bring.”

Jayce didn’t really care what Viktor was saying, just happy to soak up his partner’s attention. Then one of Viktor’s hands moved up and scratched his chin and Jayce melted. Touch felt so good right now. He let out a happy noise as Viktor continued.

“Come, Jayce. Let us show the world our glorious evolution, as partners.”

Jayce smiled, filled with and swallowed by the soulbond. That sounded nice.

Distantly, he heard someone shout, but he didn’t really pay any mind to it. His beloved partner was here and he was just so happy-

White gold burning light filled his vision and he was wrenched away from his soulmate. Jayce screamed in agony as he hit something, his leg burning and the arcane screeching-

And then nothing.

[------------]

Mel would never admit it, but she was scared for Jayce.

He had talked to her months ago, about his incomplete bond with Viktor. He’d just been insecure at the time, worried that Viktor would forget him the moment his soulmate showed up.

She had never imagined that Viktor would do this, however.

Jayce had woken up a half an hour ago, but he was… off. The man’s eyes were hazy and unfocused, and he was lethargic, not even attempting to get out of the bed. He was unusually passive with anyone who came into the room, allowing the nurses to manhandle him without a fuss.

Jayce never allowed anyone to help him without a fuss. It was one of the things Mel learned about him early on. Jayce would always either insist on paying her back, or insist he didn’t need help.

He was never so… compliant.

She was no fool, she knew what this was. She’d read about it after Jayce had talked to her.

Viktor had abused the half formed bond to subjugate Jayce via emotion. Something that was far more common in unrequited soulbonds than true soulbonds. The main reason it was advised that the unrequited stay away from their partner.

She just never thought Viktor was cruel enough to do it.

The councillor sighed and pushed open the door to Jayce’s room. He was being kept in quarantine until his soulbond stopped receiving signals from Viktor and Jayce was able to feel his own emotions. They simply couldn’t afford the chance that Jayce could end up getting himself killed in this compromised state.

Mental stimulation was supposed to help accelerate the process. Logically, that meant she should go in and talk to him.

That didn’t mean this was going to be any less painful for her.

“Hello, Jayce,” She greeted, watching his attention drift far too slowly to her before his face lit up in abstract recognition.

He smiled in that too bright way he always did, a picture that would have been fine if not for his haggard appearance and his clouded gaze, “Mel!” He chirped, his voice artificially excited, “Where’s Viktor?”

Mel hesitated, “Viktor is… busy,” She settled on, “He’ll come down once he’s ready.”

Jayce only looked put off for a second before the joyful haze was back, “Oh, I love him though.”

Mel sighed, “Your soulbond is telling you that, Jayce,” She said, sitting on the edge of his bed and placing a hand on his leg, “But they’re not your emotions.”

Expectedly, Jayce shook his head with a pout, “No. I love Viktor,” he declared shifting in his bed to lay his head on Mel’s lap, “I love him so much- Mel he’s perfect.”

Mel looked like she’d bitten into something sour, “Sure, Jayce.”

Jayce hummed contentedly, relaxed in a way he just wasn’t. Not for a long time, not since he and Viktor had joined the council. Gods to think that was only months ago. It felt like years.

She opened the bag she had brought with her, one with a few puzzles for mental stimulation. First the worst case scenario test. If he struggled to solve this toy she was fairly sure she was going to march into Zaun and confront Viktor herself.

“... Mel,” Jayce just stared at her with a look that screamed betrayal before solving it easily in a few quick movements. It was a good thing too, Hoskel had been struggling with that one for years.

“Just checking,” she hummed before handing him a puzzle that he could actually have some fun with.

Mel watched him scramble and solve the puzzle repeatedly, his hands flicking across it deftly. He was humming some tune from his childhood. He didn’t look like he had any difficulty with what he was doing.

She needed to change tack, this hardly counted as mental stimulation for his mind and she was fairly sure no puzzle she could find ever would. She hoped he could forgive her for this.

“Jayce, what have you been up to before… meeting with Viktor again.”

“Hm?” Jayce, paused for a second before going back to his puzzle, for a moment, a note of something other than joy shone in his eyes, “I was in the future.”

Mel blinked, “The future.”

“Yep!” Jayce chirped, “An anomaly in the hexgates, the one I told Viktor about. It shot me in the future for a bit.”

“How was the future?” Mel asked, placing a hand on his shoulder to encourage him.

Again, those same flickering emotions, his real emotions, shone through for a second before the soulbond won out again, “It was… empty. But Viktor was there! Alone, but he was there!”

“Why was he alone?”

This time, a frown flickered across his features, progress, “Everyone else was gone, evolved. He stayed atop the hexgates, with me,”

“With you?”

“Well- my cor- statue,” He cut himself off, his nose scrunching up in distaste, “He didn’t leave often, I think… Oh! Except to save me from the blizzard!”

Mel stared at him, of course she knew about the blizzard, it was one of the things he’d always talk about when he rambled about hextechs inception, “The blizzard. The one you almost died in as a child. That blizzard.”

The haze flickered, and perhaps Mel needed to reevaluate Jayces relationship with Viktor after all, with the true adoration in his eyes now, “Mel, he saved mom and I from the blizzard, he’s my soulmate.”

“But your bond-”

He shook his head, giddy, “Unfinished because of time travel! My real first words to him- they were then! Of course it wouldn’t register for Viktor!”

The haze cleared further and Jayces expression started to turn sorrowful again, “He called me Láska,” He mumbled, “It means lover in his native tongue.”

“Jayce-!”

The man jerked as arcane corruption flickered across his form, falling off the bed and scrambling away from Mel before pain caused him to collapse. He held his head in his hands as mad ramblings spilled from his lips.

“I promised him- I broke it oh gods I broke the promise I shouldn’t have why did I why-”

“Jayce!”

He went silent, his head snapping up to stare wide eyed at Mel. She was relieved to see the clarity in those eyes.

“Mel, I love you. You’re my best friend. Never do that again.”

She sighed, “It was the fastest way to purge your soulbond, but I am sorry about that.”

Jayce looked away, slowly pulling himself to his feet while being mindful of his injured leg, “I forgive you, just… don’t do it again.”

“About Viktor-”

“Mel, please,” Jayce cut her off, looking at her with a gaze full of pain, “I- he… I don’t want to talk about him. Not right now. There’s so much work to do and-”

“We’ll get him back,” She stated firmly, shutting him up, “We’ll get him back and smack some sense into him.”

Jayce stared at her, before swallowing thickly, “I- right… we need to get everyone with power together, not just topside either. What Viktor will bring… we need all the help we can get.”

“It’ll be hard.”

“Stopping the apocalypse always is,” Jayce countered, his hand finding its way to his soulmark, “But we need them.”

Mel sighed again, “I hope you know what you’re doing, Jayce.”

The man of progress, if you could call him that anymore, was quiet for a minute.

“I hope so too.”

[miguelryan]

Fandom: Oz (TV)

Rating: Explicit

Relationships: Miguel Alvarez/Ryan O'Reily

Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Explicit Language

Language: English

Summary:

Ryan knows he's not very good at blowjobs and it annoys him. The thing is, Miguel turned out to be some kind of fucking god at blowjobs, and Ryan... no, it's not some weird dick-sucking competition, he just really wants to give Miguel as much pleasure as he gets. And today Ryan has an idea.