#Hi guys if you read my fics on ao3 i love and treasure you

[rubsjuice]

I used to talk a lot about the intermission on twitter to the point random ass people on homestuck twitter would know me exclusively as "the intermission guy" but since i moved onto spamtonposting with my five friends on discord because the hyperfixation is That Bad I've seen a sort of renaissance show up on tumblr and on one hand i feel joy that other people are enjoying them just as much as i do and on the other hand i feel like a washed up methuselah

[rutobuka2]

Hi! Which are your favorite bagginshield fics?

I haven't been reading fic lately, so I might forget a lot of them, but:

my talented friend McManatea didn't write often but every time I think of a "complicated old uncle love" fic that makes my heart twinge I think of hers: Come To My Own Hearthstone

my talented friend Yubi wrote this saga of a fic, and I always talk about it with my friends because I think it's so logical, so fucking cool, and makes me emotional: Azhâr

my talented friend Kitty wrote so many fun AUs, and my favorite series was the Satyr one, obviously: In which the Dwarves are Satyrs, because Reasons but I often also think about the lesbian Selkie one! It's so unique: The Selkie

my talented friend mithrilbikini wrote so many cool rarer pair fics, I know it's not bagginshield, but I often remember this one with Bilbo/Nori: Unexpected (but Not Unwelcome) and also check out their other posts on AO3, they're centered on their professional illustrations. All bangers.

the talented HildyJ first had control of my brain with their amazing Oak and Mistletoe, but I remember reeling with every new setting and fic, and I'm sure you'll find yourself a treasure trove in their bagginshield works!

the talented Margo_Kim still has my ass on lock with their beautiful Homesick, I always remember waiting for the next chapters and the absolute joy the ending was.

the talented Northerntrash always had such an absolute hold on mythology fic, but it's absurd how their modern AUs or canon timing AUs would also kill your ass: For This, Of Seasons

I really need to go back in and read some more! Do you guys have some good recs? :D

[wordstome]

Last night I did what I always do when I can’t fall asleep: think about fictional men. Here’s a list of wonderful stories written by incredibly talented people who have helped me think about fictional men by providing the most delicious playgrounds.

In the interest of keeping my recommendations brief, I'm going to talk about what I liked about the fic instead of summarizing what it's about. To know what it's actually about you're just gonna have to click through and read the fic <3

(and just in case anybody's gotten lost, this is all COD, mostly modern MW)

✦ complete ║ ➠ ongoing

König

✦Just Friends by @kneelingshadowsalome Salome is so good at capturing a very unique interplay between König’s social awkwardness and his deep, dark, nasty inclinations. He’s so feral and enjoyable to read, and the sheer force of his desire for Engel is downright intoxicating. I find it difficult to describe how much of an impact Just Friends has had on me and my portrayal of König, to be honest. There's a reason why three of Salome's fics are on this rec list.

✦Fatum Nos Iungebit by kneelingshadowsalome Five words. König with his cock out. That's it. Okay, but in all seriousness, I love his character applied to this setting. All the raw visceral violence a König could ever want, a pretty little lady in his bed—he's so boyish and happy in this au it brings me such joy. The way their relationship between him and Fee develops is so natural and so sweet. Please for the love of God read this.

➠Cat/Mouse/Den by @papaver-decervicatus The chase. The pursuit. The adrenaline when Mouse dances out of König's reach once more. I'm a little biased because I adore Julius and Jenny (I could call her Lucretia but the double J names make me giggle) as ocs already, but CMD is so, so well written. The tension, the flirting, the scene where he catches her falling out of the tree?! As I said in a reblog, I shrieked. You know when you're reading something that's so good you want to bite down on it and shake like a dog with a toy? (No? Just me?) That's how I feel about CMD.

➠Anything by @darklordofthesimp Anything, in only 7 chapters (they are hefty, don’t get me wrong), has turned König and Birdy’s dynamic from “THIS MOTHERFUCKER HAS IRREVERSIBLY SCARRED MY BODY AND MY BRAIN, AND I CANNOT TRUST HIM” to “these two are going to get married someday”. (author if you’re reading this, I say that not as an expectation or prediction, but as a vibe reading.) This one is for the hurt/comfort girlies. Also, shoutout to all the other stories set in the Anything-verse. Sunshine and Ghost are just soooo *grips my hand in a fist so hard it shakes*

➠If you need to be mean by @gremlingottoosilly This mostly serves as a blanket recommendation for all of Gremlin’s fics. I found If you need to be mean, and then visiting Gremlin’s author page was like opening a treasure chest. Want to be König’s pampered, (unwilling) little housewife? That’s If you need to be mean. Want a harem fic with almost all of the COD MW men? Gremlin has two, both with their own little spin to keep it fun. Do you want König to keep you in his basement or hunt you down as a serial killer? Gremlin's got it. Monsterfucker? Gremlin has that too. Special shoutout goes to 1295 kilometers. I think about fucking König on a train a lot now.

➠Break my mind by @kaiasdevotion (kaiasown on ao3) There’s no way around this. This fic has the most unhinged, kinky, downright dangerous smut I’ve read in the cod fandom so far (positive). Just Friends König is the metric by which I judge all other Königs’ nastiness, and Break my mind König is tipping so hard on the “unhinged horny violent freak (affectionate)” end of the scale he’s about to fall off. I don't know if you guys have noticed, but I've developed a taste for writing/reading from König's perspective, and he's so chillingly deranged in the most controlled way possible during the chapters from his pov. Incredible writing. Chefs kiss.

✦Experimental by @uhohdad (surgeoninspace on ao3) Alright, enough of just König being nasty. He is still nasty in this one, but he’s not the only one who gets to have a little fun and be a total creep. Our little scientist here is a grade A pervert, and I was delighted the whole way through. The most important thing I need in a fic is suspension of disbelief, and Experimental takes an unrealistic, maybe a little bit silly situation and makes it so believable. Everybody reacts the way you would expect them to, even if the scenario they're in is A Lot.

➠Little Mouse and Rotes Madchen by @sprout-fics I'm combining the recommendation for these two because while they are both very much distinct, unique fics, I love them the same way. Sprout is such an engaging writer, and the internal dialogue of her characters is so well done. It reveals their personality, motivations, and internal conflicts without being overly expository. Do you guys remember that post I put on the König bible about instant obsession? It's this inexorable attraction borne from obsession that sticks me to Little Mouse like a glue trap. (Is that too morbid?)

✦Hot in Sarajevo by @50cal-fullauto Rags' König characterization post is on my Königcore bible, for very good reason. They get it. König is a feral dog forced to live as a man and loves like a total maniac, emotionally and sexually. I marked Hot in Sarajevo as complete but I don't know how many parts there are going to be, and frankly, I do want more. However, if you're going to only read one part (which. why would you do that??? read both.) I recommend the second part. I want to write love like that. Goddamn.

Ghost

Yeah, this list is a little bare bones right now. I'm gonna get back to it, I promise.

✦Anhedonia by kneelingshadowsalome The way. Salome takes the "I would take a bullet for him but he's so cold to me" premise and then flips it entirely on its head for the second part is so important to me. The way Simon craves the reader is like human catnip. I reread this fic all the time.

Keegan

✦For the Weak and Weary by @halcyone-of-the-sea Read this if you want to believe in true love. That's all. Go on now.

Multiple

✦Easy by @danibee33 When people say "I wish this were a book!" about fanfiction, they usually mean it in a "this is good enough to be published by the traditional publishing industry" way. When I say I want Easy (and Diablesa) to be a book, I mean it in a "I want to get this story bound in a beautiful ass cover and keep it on a shelf so I can take it down and reread it whenever I want" way. I don't want the traditional publishing industry to get their claws in this, because it's perfect as it is. This fic is so wild and fun, and the character moments are so special and well done. Do yourself a favor and savor this one.

➠@ghouljams's entire blog [masterlist] "What do you mean someone's entire blog" YOU HEARD ME. Those aus are some good shit. Good characterization, delicious premises, love the group effort of it all. To absolutely nobody's surprise, my favorite couple is König and Bee from the cowboy au (ditzy but well-meaning and competent in her own way woman x big strong man who is obsessed with her and maybe also creeping on her, my beloved), but I also have a fondness for Ghost and Die from demon darlings au. Trust me on this one. Dig into those masterlists babey.

[choicesficwriterscreations]

October Creator of the Month: Tessa-Liam

Please welcome this month’s Creator of the Month: @tessa-liam

Each month, CFWC highlights one of our talented fanfic writers or artists. The writer or artist is selected at random. More info can be found on the navigation page. Past COTMs can be found here.

Tumblr Blog Name: Tessa-Liam

How do you want to be known on Tumblr? Tessa

Quick Links:

Tumblr Blog

Masterlist

1- When did you start playing Choices? What was the first book you played?

Christmas 2017, I was scrolling FB and saw an ad for Choices featuring The Royal Romance Book 1. I downloaded the app and started reading TRR right away.

2- When and why did you join Choices fandom?

I was hooked on that series and was waiting for a new chapter to release. I was desperate for more and my sister suggested that I try searching Tumblr for fanfiction in 2021.

3- How did you pick your blog name?

Liam was my LI, so I joined his name with mine!

4- Pull up the first post in your archive, and tell us about it!

My very first post was the masterlist to @ao719's series ‘The Invitation’. I found her treasure trove of Liam Rys/TRR stories very quickly! I couldn't get enough!

5- Do you write fanfiction, create fan art, or are you one of those really gifted people who do both?

I write fanfiction. I wish I could draw…the best I can do is create moodboards.

6- How long have you been creating for Choices and for any other fandoms?

I started writing my own stories for Choices pretty much at the same time I found the app. Publishing those stories started with prompting and encouragement from Anitah [@ao719] & Emmy [@txemrn]. I posted my first on October 28, 2022, ‘October Weekend Retreat’. I have also written for ‘Game of Thrones’, ‘Twilight’ & ‘The X-files’. These stories are all published on AO3 with other pseudonyms

7- What is your favorite Choices book, and what is your favorite Choices book to create for?

My favorite book(s) to read and create for: The Royal Romance Series. Favorite = book 3

8- Share your first Choices fanfic or fan art that you posted with us. Do you still like it, or would you change it if you were creating it today?

I do still like it! The changes I would make…I would add more ‘Would You Rather’ questions and dialogue.😁

9- What is your favorite piece of fiction or art that you created?

My favorite: ‘All is Fair in Love & War’ …and I won an art commission (my center pic) for it from CFWC, by ArtbyAinna (IG).

10- Do you have a fic/art that you didn’t expect to be well received, but it was? What about one you expected to do well but found it could use a little more love?

I am always honoured whenever anyone takes the time to read, comment, or share my stories!🥰

11- If you could write only angst, fluff, or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why?

Definitely angst❣️ I love writing/drama about a group of characters in a series with various sub plots and relationships over time.

12 - Do you ever recognize yourself in any of your MCs or in your writing?

Yes! My OC Sophie Taylor from Marabelle.

13 - What element of writing/art do you struggle with most?

Writing…Definitely 😏 smut! ….but practice makes perfect, right!? 😉

14 - Do you have any neglected work you really want to finish?

Oh geez, so much!? My one drive is well stocked! 😂

15 - If someone you know in real life (who isn’t involved in fandoms) asked to see your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you show them first?

Yes! My sister. No, not necessarily…I know she reads AO3, cuz she posts there too!

16 - Are there any writers (published authors and/or fanfic writers) who influenced your writing? Are there any writers that influence you?

Anitah @ao719, my fellow Liam stan definitely inspired me to write TRR stories here on Tumblr. She is a phenomenal writer!💖

17- Which one of your stories would you most like to see as a movie/series?

Marabelle …it's still a W.I.P. right now and I have so much story to tell!

18- Do you write original fiction or create non-fandom art?

I have started a framework for a novel and have created storyboards for it.

19- What other hobbies do you have?

I love horses and am learning dressage. Reading, writing, politics.

20: BONUS - tell us anything you’d like (if you want to)

I adore royalty in real life and follow news on William & Kate. They toured Canada in 2016. I was in Victoria, BC on vacation when they were here, but I couldn't get anywhere near that area of the city. 🤷‍♀️

[rheian]

MERTHUR AUs

A collection of my Merthur fics that I thoroughly liked. This started out as a fluffy collection, how did this turn out to be a goddamn AU collection?? Also can I just say “Arlin” is such a stupid alt ship name. Glad we stuck with Merthur, christ. This list is a bit shorter than my last one, sorry about that!

If there are fanfiction you cannot access and you do not have an ao3 account then that probably means the fic is restricted, sorry! I highly recommend you to create an ao3 account.

Click “Keep Reading” for the list. ( dividers © )

How (Not) to be a YouTuber: A Comprehensive Guide by Idiots by Imagined, Scarlet_Ribbons ( T | 7k words | one-shot )

Arthur has a gaming channel. Merlin has a gardening channel. The only thing they have in common, it seems, is the fact they're both successful YouTubers, and that their followers want them to do a collab in spite of how different their content is.

Or: In which Arthur and Merlin flirt (despite Merlin’s mysterious fianc��), Morgana dishes out the hottest gossip, Gwaine keeps trying to fight the entire internet, and their fans are maybe just a little too overbearing.

Merlin/Arthur Pendragon | Youtuber AU, Secret Relationship, Social Media

twitterature by cominupforair ( T | 5k words | one-shot )

Arthur is Camelot FC’s star striker. Merlin is Ealdor FC’s starting goalkeeper. And the whole world thinks they’re rivals, but are they?

aka the Social Media/Football/Wedding AU nobody had asked for

Part 1 out of 3 : Camelot FC

Merlin/Arthur Pendragon | Football AU, Idiots in Love, Secret Relationship

Shadowlord and Pirate King by Footloose, mushroomtale ( E | 169k words | completed )

A fast ship, a good crew, a treasure, a Clan to lead -- that's all Arthur Pendragon has ever wanted. He sits on the Council, he supports his father's kingship, and he keeps an eye on the Imperial Conglomerate when they come too close to Pirate space.

One day the Conglomerate infiltrates the Clans and poisons the King. Arthur must search for a cure to keep his father alive and the Clans from civil war.

An escape route, a sharp knife, a target, the shadows at his command -- that's all Merlin has ever needed. He fulfills his assignments, he uses the Sterling to sustain his once-royal House in their exile, and wages a private war against the Imperial Conglomerate.

When he learns of an elaborate plot to assassinate him, Merlin does the opposite of what's expected. He flees onto a Pirate ship.

There's a saying among the Pirates: that one's fate is written in the stars. Destiny will always set to rights what has been made wrong.

Arthur and Merlin know that they were meant for the other from the moment they meet. They can feel it from across the galaxies separating them. Nothing can stop them from being together or from fulfilling an ancient prophecy.

Merlin/Arthur Pendragon | Space / Original AU, Space Opera, futuristic warfare

Noodles Save The Day, Even In Mysterious Ways by Dream_Me_A_Song ( T | 12k words | two-shot )

Arthur has been having a very bad week. Arguments with his father, sister and his best friend. Just got laid of his job. And now made a fool of himself in front of the cute boy from his favorite coffe shop.

Merlin/Arthur Pendragon | Modern AU, Getting Together, First Dates

It's Nice to Finally Tweet You by Pendragons Dragonlord ( T | 15k words | one-shot )

Merlin's eyes scan the headline.

Arthur Pendragon reveals mark in attempt to find the one.

"I pity the guy who's unfortunate enough to get him as a soul mate.”

In which Arthur is a famous celebrity, Merlin is a beloved teacher, and they break Twitter once. Well, twice. Okay so it's a whole bunch of times actually but it's not their fault. Really it's not.

Merlin/Arthur Pendragon | Modern AU, Soulmates AU, Twitter, Angst and Humor

True Love by platonic_boner ( T | 6k words | one-shot )

AU where soulmates can’t lie to each other.

(That’s okay, Merlin wasn’t planning to lie to Arthur anyways! Haha.. ha.. ha…)

Merlin/Arthur Pendragon | Soulmates AU, Angst with a Happy Ending, Mutual Pining, Misunderstandings

Moonlit by TheDragon ( M | 3k words | one-shot )

Prince Arthur is a werwulf—the one thing Camelot hates more than sorcerers. He was bitten back when he was 19, and he vividly remembers spending his first full moon running through the forest, killing every animal in sight.

Nowadays, Arthur hides away on full moons. There's a corridor in the dungeons, with many cells that have certainly seen better days. Arthur spends the whole night locked and shackled in a cell at the end of the corridor, praying to any god that will listen that no one hears his snarls.

He's been lucky these past few years. Very, very lucky.

Unfortunately, it seems his luck has run out. [...]

Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin) | Werewolf AU, Canon-Typical Violence, Captivity

The Prince's Mistress by mayfriend ( M | 97k words | completed ) 

When Uther declared war on the Old Religion after the death of his wife in childbirth, he was warned that there would be consequences to his crusade beyond his worst nightmares. But Uther ignored these warnings, and the purge continued. If he'd known the price his people would pay for his vendetta, perhaps he would have been more wary.

Twenty years have passed since the great purge began, and Uther's subjects have grown barren. Fewer children are born with each passing year, until the very future of the Kingdom was endangered. In a final attempt to save Camelot, Uther decreed that men of the noble class were allowed to take mistresses without fear of condemnation. The social class from which the mistress originated didn't matter, as long as she was able to bear an heir - an heir that would be recognised and legitimised by the court.

Merlin, having been raised outside Camelot, knew little of these problems. If she had, she'd have thought twice before she saved the prat of a prince's life and was made his mistress as a 'reward' by Uther.

A fill from a kinkmeme prompt, which focuses on an canon AU where Merlin is a girl, Arthur's mistress, and the only hope for a waning Camelot.

Merlin/Arthur Pendragon | Gender Swap AU, Canon Divergence, Female Merlin, Assassination Attempt(s)

a half of a whole (cannot truly forget the other) by Steamcraft ( T | 99k words | completed )

From the majority of the patients in Camelot Mental Health Institute, Colin Morgan - or Merlin as he insists to be called - seems the most normal aside from the delusions. Bradley only wishes he'd stop calling him Arthur for gods sake because now he dreams of legends.

Merlin/Arthur Pendragon | Mental Institution AU, Modern AU, Reincarnation, Immortal Merlin, Hospital Malpractice

I Will Share Your Road by PinkGold ( E | 7k words | one-shot )

 ‘Who is this?’

Arthur’s heart was beating fast. He didn’t know what to expect, but whatever he was doing, it felt wrong. He checked to see if the doors had been properly closed, and when he looked down at his forearm again, he had a new message.

‘They call me Emrys.’

Emrys, Arthur mumbled. Weird name.

‘How are you doing this?’

The answer took a while to appear in his skin, right on the inside portion of his upper arm.

‘Magic.’

OR

In which Arthur and Merlin are soulmates who can write on each other's skin.

Merlin/Arthur Pendragon | Soulmates AU, Druid Merlin, Two Person Love Triangle, Insecure Arthur, Idiots in Love

leaves on a pear tree (the you're so young remix) by coricomile ( T | 1k words | one-shot )

“The magic,” Merlin says. “Isn’t it funny that it’s you with it this time around instead of me? Imagine what Uther would say.”

Merlin/Arthur Pendragon | Hogwarts AU, Modern AU, Reincarnation

Deeds by the5leggedCricket ( T | 6k words | completed )

Arthur is coming of age, and that means he’s about to get Deeds—marks on his body telling him of his soulmate’s greatest accomplishments. But as he tries to find his soulmate, he also makes some worrying discoveries about the kind of person his soulmate is.

Merlin/Arthur Pendragon | Soulmates AU, Canon divergence, Oblivious Arthur, Fluff

[wickjump]

I’M SO GLAD THAT I’VE FOUND SOMEONE THAT ENJOYS CREPIC. THEREFORE YOU ARE GETTING A HC.

I’ve recently seen a trope somewhere that if partner A has noticeable scars, partner B will kiss them as a small romantic or comforting gesture. Ever since I’ve seen this trope I have not stopped thinking about crepic. IT FITS SO WELL???

Like, obviously Epic has the scar on his eye. His magic eye has caused him years of suffering and awful nightmares. It’s been nothing more to him than a burden. And the scar is just another reminder that he can never let go of everything that’s been done to him. But whatever, he’s gotten over it. But imagine Epic going over to Cross’ house for a sleepover, and late at night the two are just lying in Cross’ bed talking about something stupid, when their conversation suddenly turns more personal. This slowly leads to Epic opening up about how much of a struggle it is to live with his eye. Of course, he doesn’t go too much into detail, since he was never really one to speak about his personal life.

And Cross can’t help but feel so guilty for his poor best friend after listening to him talk about how much pain he had to endure for so long. Epic keeps insisting that he’s fine and that it’s not a big deal, but Cross wants to give the person he cares about so much the desperate comfort he needs. One way leads to another and Cross ends up leaning over and kissing the scar on Epic’s eye while gently cupping his face or something. (bonus points if Cross also kisses the scars on Epic’s hands). AND EPIC WOULD PROB BE HOLDING BACK TEARS THE ENITRE TIME BUT WOUDL EVENTUALLY CRAKC CUZ SOMEONE ACTUALLY FINDS BEAUTY IN HIS INSECURITIES AND UHHUHGH.

I’m so ashamed that this became a huge rant when it didn’t need to be 🙏🙏 (But seriously I’m so starved of crepic that it’s becoming torturous. I need to be fed more fanfics bc there’s only 30 on ao3. Nsfw or not I need to be fed.)

WEEPING CRYING YES!!!!!!!!!! epic is so ignored in crepic fics mostly because people don’t bother to read his au’s comic (it’s… a long one… so i get it lmfao), and i might be one of those people though not because a lack of adoration for his canon but because cross is my favorite idiot and epic is hard to write. BUT!!!!!! I LIKE THIS A LOT.

scar kissing can go one of two ways, very very good, or very very bad. personally if anyone tried to kiss my scars they’d get clocked, but it depends for the character (and person). some people think it’s cringe worthy, other people think it’s sweet. EYE SCARS HOWEVER? OH HO HO. THOSE NEED TO BE KISSED RIGJT FUCKIJG NOW… ABSOLUTELY YES. epic’s whole eye ordeal like ruined his life and made him damn near suicidal. i haven’t read the side comics in a little while for epic but iirc when he’s killed he thinks something along the lines of ‘isnt this what ive been waiting for?’ or something? could be wrong idk i haven’t read it in a few months. but either way that eye, and that scar as a reminder, really fucked him up. and epic’s the kind of guy to gloss over that entirely. but cross is an overthinker at his core so when he catches wind of this it’s going to be on his mind forever probably.

i love. i love the idea that cross just holds epic’s face and kisses his scars. holy shit i love that so much. dear god. he absolutely should get to do that. cross cares sososo much about epic but epic never tells him anything!!! so when cross gets a whiff of his internal turmoil he is gonna DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT!!!! and epic is gonna FEEL EMOTIONS!!!!!!

I LOVE characters cupping someone’s face while kissing them while paying mind to their traumas and letting them know that you treasure them and and and combusts into a superbillion molecules

goddd this idea. /pos. AND YOURE SO REAL ABOUT THE FIC THING THEY SHOULD HAVE MORE FICS LIKE??? WHAT???!!!!! there’s barely any fics out there for them compared to so many other ships. every night i pray that i wake up and someone dropped a 200k+ word slow burn crepic ‘forbidden’ (because cross’ job and epic’s residence) romance best friends to lovers au fic. but those prayers always go unanswered. ive scoured the entire site for them, ive started going to WATTPAD, DAMNIT!!!!!!!!! bleh. i don’t even care about ratings or tags anymore as long as it’s consensual and legal im fine please give me more content with them 🙏

[bekolxeram]

I had an idea of Buck finding out who Maurice was through Athena months ago. No one gave me that fic, I guess I'd better feed myself. I've never written any fic before, (You read that right, I don't mean for this fandom, I've never written any fic in my life) so I was planning for a short little humorous piece. Well, I'm around 2/3 of the way done, and it's already over 2.5k words long. I don't think I'll able to finish it in the very near future, and I still don't have an AO3 account, so I decide to share the first half of it with you? To give myself the motivation to keep writing?

I just want to get my ideas out there, I'll probably correct the grammar and refine the word choices when I finish the whole thing. Please enjoy and give me feedback. (Gently, it's my first time writing anything fictional outside of high school English exam)

The first time Buck heard the name Maurice, was at Chimney and Maddie’s hospital wedding.

Neither his sister nor his now brother-in-law had much luck in love. Murderous ex, surprise pregnancy, all sorts of trauma, mental health struggle, break up, make up, you name it, they had been through it all. Even on their wedding day, the universe decided to sprinkle in a little viral encephalitis as a last minute wedding gift. Any other couple would have taken all this as a sign of destiny’s disapproval of their relationship, but not Chimney and Maddie. Life kept trying to set them apart, but they chose to get back together, time and time again. Even when they were deep in delirium, when they had lost all sense of self, they always instinctively crawled back to one another, like it was in their very nature to love each other.

Buck agreed with his mother, getting married at a hospital was indeed appropriate. Plenty of newlyweds said their vows just for the sake of traditions, but when Maddie and Chimney pledged to their lives to each other, in sickness and in health, they had their entire relationship to back it up.

Buck was ecstatic, when Bobby pronounced them officially married. He envisioned how the day would be panning out quite differently, but he could not complain. Sure, he would prefer to have his date by his side, but as a firefighter himself, he understood the safety of the city was more important than his own feelings. If anything, on that day, he learned that life would not always let you have your dream wedding, or your dream date, but as long as you treasure and prioritize each other, everything would work out in the end.

Then Tommy walked into the hospital, still in his turnout gear, covered in soot, all apologetic.

Buck just knew he had to close their distance, taste the alluring flavor of smoke straight from his lips.

Tommy came, without stopping by to get changed or to wash up, because the wedding was important to Buck, because he promised to come. Buck once thought duty and romance was a question of either/or, but Tommy made enough of an effort to make them both work.

Buck knew very well how dirty his face must have been after making out aggressively with his date, but he did not care one bit. He had not been this happy for so long, he wanted everyone in the room to see how elated he was. He wanted to wear his happiness on his face.

He briefly congratulated the newlyweds. His sister, like the caretaker she was, pulled out a baby wipe for him to clean up his lower face. He tried his best to wipe off all the soot, then he took a piece a cake and started looking around the room for his date. He found Tommy having a conversation with the Wilsons.

“Hey,” Buck put his hand on Tommy’s lower back, “What are you guys talking about?”

“Just what an entrance you two have made,” Hen said with a smirk. Karen was struggling to hide her chuckle.

“Look at him, can you blame me?” Buck gazed adoringly at Tommy, “I was planning to show him off on the dancefloor anyway.”

“You’re full of surprise, Evan, you know that?” Tommy smiled, the ocean blue in his eyes filled Buck’s heart with affection.

“I’m sure it went a lot better than the last time you tried kissing someone in front of me,” Hen interrupted, with a devilish grin.

“Huh?” Tommy reacted, puzzled.

“Maurice.” The Wilsons were fully giggling at this point.

“Oh no.” Tommy covered half of his face with one of his hands, seemingly embarrassed by Hen’s teasing, “You guys are never going to let me live this down, aren’t you?”

The conversation kept flowing, but Buck was deafened by the thousands of questions in his head.

Who’s Maurice? Why have I never heard of him? Why was Tommy trying to kiss him? In front of Hen too? Was he Tommy’s crush? Who rejected him? No, were they… together?

“Evan?” Tommy noticed Buck’s lapse in focus.

“Uh… yes… yes, Tommy?”

“The cake?” Tommy pointed at the piece of dessert in Buck’s hand.

“Sure… Of course.” Buck handed the plate over. He really wanted to find out more about this Maurice, but at the same time, he recognized the recency of his budding romance with Tommy. Tommy would get around to mentioning this mysterious figure from his past eventually, Buck thought, so he decided to let it go for now.

“Sorry, I haven’t eaten since last night. I’m starving.” Tommy explained, while shoving a sizable chunk of wedding cake into his mouth. “Mmm, this is so good. This is everything I’ve been waiting for.” This man loved his cake, even the soot and fatigue on his face could not hide the genuine joy radiating from his face, in all its crinkly, wrinkly glory.

“The cake huh? Is that all?” Buck asked, flirtatiously.

Tommy flirted back, with his signature deadpan expression but burning lust in his eyes, “Well, I have to refuel my body before engaging in whatever activities await us tonight.”

Buck’s heart skipped a beat, probably from the sudden rush of blood down south. Yeah, Maurice could wait.

The second time Buck heard the name Maurice, was at the medal ceremony.

It was supposed to be a joyous occasion.

Not only did none of them get fired, they were all given medals for borrowing LAFD property and leading a pre-authorized rescue mission off the coast of Mexico. None of that would have been possible without the pilot. Yes, all of them played their part in saving Bobby and Athena from the sinking cruise ship, but Tommy in particular put his career, even his own life at risk just to help a few old colleagues he had not seen for years, just because there might be people in need. Judge him all you want, but seeing Tommy on that stage, being awarded for his skills and heroism, Buck simply could not conceal the fondness and enamorment written all over his face. Bobby and Athena being alive and well, looking like a classic Hollywood power couple, was obviously the most important part, Buck told himself. Although, Tommy being appreciated for the absolute ace he was, while in his dress blue, came as a close second.

The way the rigid fabric splayed across the pilot’s strong muscular body, buttons holding on for dear life against his bulging pecs, pants just tight enough to accentuate the curvature of his glutes, a feature Buck found enticing in all genders. Buck was not alone in ogling the real life erotic fantasy in front of him, about that he was sure, but he took comfort in knowing he was the only one there who got to touch this body, to worship it, to savor every inch of it, to feel it against his own. He might have almost missed his own call to the stage because he was too busy gawking at his boyfriend.

He was looking forward to celebrate this moment with his loved ones, maybe a little foreplay in costume with Tommy too, until Gerrard showed up and ruined everything.

Upon spotting the former 118 captain, Tommy looked as if he had seen a ghost.

The second Gerrard made a limp wrist gesture at Tommy, insinuating a homophobic slur, Buck realized he was more than an ignorant old man. He barely skirted the edge of blatant bigotry just to abuse his targets while staying on the side of possible deniability. If he used merely 10% of his brain power allocated for creative insults, Los Angeles would be a much safer place.

Tommy was clearly upset after their unexpected encounter with Gerrard. He was forking the food on his plate, without eating any, then abruptly, he stood up, “I don’t feel like eating these right now. I’m gonna get some cake, I’ll be back in a minute.”

Buck gave him a forced smile and a small peck to his temple, then he sent his boyfriend to his beloved sweet treat.

“I’m worried about him,” Buck turned to Chimney, “I’ve never seen him like this before, being so… small.”

“Working under Gerrard was not exactly a fun time worth keeping in your memory” Chimney sighed. “Like most of us, it took Tommy a long time and a lot of soul searching to become who he is right now. He did have a fat head back in the days, but I can’t say I blame the guy. Sometimes you do things you’ll regret further down the road just to survive at the moment.”

“Yeah… he told me the 118 was a regressive place back then.”

“Gerrard isn’t just another asshole, he’s an asshole with power, particularly power over his people’s safety. Tommy almost died because of him.”

“I know… Gas explosion, right? He said you saved his life.”

“I guess I did, but hey, Gerrard only gave me one month of KP duty as a reward, so that was a plus,” Chimney snickered, sarcastically.

“He punished you for saving Tommy’s life?” Buck never fully grasped the injustice, mistreatment, and suffering his loved ones faced under Gerrard’s reign of terror. He made a mental note to thank Bobby later for his gentle fatherly guidance.

“That’s who he is, Buck. All power trip, no leadership. I’ve never seen Tommy so scared of somebody,” Chimney continues, “except maybe... Maurice.”

Maurice, this name again. Buck still knew close to nothing about this cryptic individual.

Tommy was very upfront about how abrasive his was in his youth. Having to desperately hide his true self from his abusive father, then intolerant military policy, and finally his homophobic superior, he had learned very early on that the best defense was a solid offense. He was cold, distant, downright rude to anyone and everyone who tried getting too close, to the truth, to his desire, to his heart. So if Tommy was reluctant to share the parts of his life that he was less than proud of, Buck would not try to pry… At least until Chimney told him how fearful Tommy was of Maurice.

“Who…” Just as Buck opened his mouth, his brother in law rose from his seat, grabbing the red wine filled glass with him. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to take this wine to my wife.”

As soon as Chimney left, Tommy returned with a piece of cake in his hand and a subtle smile on his face.

“Heyy-” Tommy greeted Buck in his usual playful tone.

“Hey, feeling better?” Buck was relieved, sensing Tommy’s change of mood.

“Um…” Tommy looked down, seemingly pondering. Then he retook the seat he previously occupied, the one right next to Buck, and hooked one of his feet under his boyfriend’s chair. He gave the chair a swift, firm tug, and in the blink of an eye, the physical distance between them vanished.

“Now I am,” Tommy murmured with his deep, gravelly voice.

Just like that, the rest of the room ceased to exist for Buck. No Gerrard, no Maurice, only Tommy. Buck’s fingers slowly slid towards the strong, burly thigh leaning against his own, but Tommy stopped him on his track, by grabbing his inquisitive hand.

“This is not exactly... appropriate for work, don’t you think?”, Tommy said, without letting go of Buck. “People may have questions if they see us.” His grip tightened, just enough to reignite the fervent desire building up between them since the start of the day. “Hen and Karen asked me just now about my intentions with you, if they are…” He looked down at the shinny medal currently decorating his boyfriend’s chest, and used his free hand to adjust the ribbon, “honorable.”

“And what did you say?” Buck asked breathlessly, almost panting.

“I told them, we’re taking it very slow…” Tommy inched closer and closer. “You’re taking the lead, I’m just trying to keep up…” His lips ghosted over Buck’s cheek, then he whispered into his ear, “Where should we go now?”

Buck responded by simply dragging Tommy onto the station rooftop. With the “no visitors” sign blocking the stairs, it was the perfect place for some private pastime.

[deathbyoctopi]

Once upon a lovey day, far from Yi City...

Xue Yang and Xiao Xingchen had gone out in a night hunt, and for reasons Xiao Xingchen had to dress like a fine lady, flowery robes, veiled hat and all. I had this idea in my mind...

...AND NOW I HAVE IT ON PAPER TOO!!!!!!🤩🤩🤩

Courtesy of the wonderful @wrathyforest who is a treasure and I super-recommend them to do art because they always capture Xue Yang's smile sooo well!!!

It now belongs to my fic A Comdey of Yi City Errors.

AND!

If wondering why Xiao Xingchen was in these lovely clothes is not intriguing enough to go check it out, know that right past this lovely couple there was someone else we also know...

Intrigued yet? 😁😆🤭

Here, have a look...

A family of three was leaving the inn as Song Lan arrived, but he didn’t pay them any mind, eager to get out of the rain - other than noting that the woman, dressed in a fine green gown and a veiled rain-hat, was rather tall. He wasn't watching, so he only heard the child, who carried an umbrella and a bamboo pole, complain loudly.

“Why did we have to walk three days, to get to this shitty place in this shitty weather? Why did we have to come here, anywa--aaya!?”

Song Lan saw, out of the corner of his eye, that the girl had slipped on the veranda threshold and had just caught herself. Then, an oddly familiar shrill laugh reached him through the pouring rain.

The sound was oddly upsetting. Song Lan was startled. Where had he heard a laugh like that before? But when he began to turn to take a closer look at that man, he slipped on the veranda steps as well, almost losing balance.

He managed to catch himself in time, and afterwards kept his back turned away from them out of a flustered sense of sudden ridicule. In doing so, he didn’t notice the young man dressed in black, turning around to look at him curiously from below his own rain hat.

“What’s wrong, Chengmei?”

“Some guy almost slipped on that thing again. They really ought to put a rug or something.”

“As if you cared! You only turned to look because you wanted to see him fall flat on his ass!”

The wind carried the three voices, but the pouring rain distorted them to make them almost unrecognizable. Again, Song Lan wasn’t paying any attention, removing his soaked outer robes in distaste and looking forward to a bath. He left the damp robes and his muddy boots outside, and entered.

Keep reading in ao3!

[cryscendo]

prompt 17 with hevans? –hevanderson

so i am terribly sorry that this has taken so long to get to you. i had been in a writing lull for awhile and then i had giftober which ate up a huge chunk of like a month and a half. but its here now and i can always count on @hevanderson to request hevans when i need it most <3

i hope you enjoy reading it as much as i’ve enjoyed writing it!

Pairing: Kurt Hummel/Sam Evans

Rating: G

Word Count: 1812

Prompt: 17 - things you said that i wish you hadn’t

fic can be read below the cut or found on ao3 here <3

“Dude, you really suck at this.”

“Oh, come on, bro, you can’t tell me that was fair!” Finn argued, gesturing towards the screen animatedly. “You can’t trick the player into falling into a trap by putting a treasure there!”

Before Sam could get a response in, Kurt had exited his room and was now leaning over the back of the couch. “Why are you yelling?” He questioned, looking mildly annoyed. To be fair, though, Sam had found that Kurt frequently looked mildly annoyed when it came to Finn.

“‘Cause this game’s unfair!”

“You can’t be mad when you fell for the trap, man,” Sam reasoned. Finn, however, did not seem to share the same opinion.

“Whatever,” Finn sulked, “Game’s dumb anyway.”

Kurt hummed behind them. “Right. Hey, Finn, don’t you have a date with Rachel at 7:30 tonight?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Because it’s 7:15 now,” Kurt stated, showing Finn the time on his phone screen. “And I tell you this, not as a stepbrother who loves you, but as someone who doesn’t want to hear Rachel Berry bitch about her love life later.”

“Shit.” Finn stood up immediately, tossing his controller on the couch and grabbing his keys off the counter. “Gotta go. We’ll play more later, ‘kay?”

“Sounds good,” Sam agreed easily. He could see how upsetting Rachel could be a dangerous game. He would certainly not like to be on the receiving end of that tirade. And he also had no doubt in his mind that Kurt would be the first person Rachel would complain to about it.

“Sorry to interrupt your guy-time. I’m sure I impeded on the time-honored tradition of ‘bros before hoes’, but I had to protect my own peace.”

“Nah, you didn’t interrupt anything,” Sam replied in reassurance. He then picked up the controller that Finn tossed down on the couch and shook it a bit. “Wanna play?”

“I don’t really play games,” Kurt confessed, but even then, he rounded the couch so that he could sit down next to Sam. He brought his feet to tuck neatly beneath him as he got comfortable. “It looks hard.”

“It’s not hard, Finn’s just terrible. Here.” Sam handed Kurt the Playstation controller, demonstrating the controls using the controller in his own hands. “X is jump and square is attack,” he explained, showing the different moves on the screen. “Oh, and right trigger is run! You’ll probably want to know that too.”

Kurt hummed in acknowledgement, repeating the moves that Sam was showing him using his own character.

They fell into relative silence after that, only occasionally interrupted when Sam decided to point out a particular feature of the game or when Kurt asked a question. For never having played video games much in his past, Kurt wasn’t half bad. He picked up on the mechanics well enough and he was comparable to Finn (which said something about Finn’s ability to play Rayman Legends).

It was only after several minutes of admittedly rather comfortable silence did Sam finally decide to speak up. “Y’know, I never get to see you ‘round here much anymore. I kinda miss it,” he admitted, still paying attention to the screen.

Sam felt Kurt give him a strange look, but he didn’t take his eyes off the screen to meet it. “What do you mean?” He asked, his character stopping in its tracks as Kurt stopped playing.

Sam gave a shrug, a bit unsure himself why the words were coming out of his mouth suddenly. “Ever since you got that boyfriend, Blaine,” he enunciated a bit cheekily, “you just haven’t spent as much time at home.” Blaine was a nice guy, Sam thought, but he didn’t really know him all that well yet. If anything, Blaine seemed to have trouble integrating himself into McKinley. Sam could relate to that to a certain degree.

Kurt hummed in response. “Relationships make you busy. You of all people should know that,” he acknowledged, clearly making a harmless dig at Sam. He wasn’t wrong, of course. Sam rarely seemed to find himself remaining single for very long at any given point.

“Even too busy for me?” Sam teased, batting his eyes at Kurt before returning his attention to the game. Kurt wasn’t really playing much anymore, but it wasn’t too unlike having to carry Finn through levels so he didn’t really think much of it.

“Too busy for everyone, I’m afraid,” Kurt clarified. The weight of Kurt’s gaze never left him as he continued to navigate through the level. It was starting to feel heavier with each passing moment, but Sam did his best to maintain his easy composure. “Since when did you care so much about that?”

It was then that Sam finally paused the game, setting the controller on the coffee table. When he turned to finally direct his full attention towards Kurt, he noted that his friend’s own controller was also abandoned, left on the couch between them as Kurt instead leaned his arm against the back of the couch so that could prop his head up in his palm.

“I dunno,” Sam admitted, “guess it’s because you’re my friend.”

“Hmm,” was all that Kurt responded with. He looked back towards the television screen, allowing several quiet moments to pass just staring at the game’s pause screen. Sam had just begun to wonder if Kurt was going to say anything more when he finally picked the controller back up. “Go ahead and unpause it.”

Sam did as he was instructed, happily picking up his own controller once again and resuming their game.

Kurt was putting in effort once again. He wasn’t by any means a fantastic player or anything, but he held his own well enough. Even then, though, Sam could sense that something was tugging at Kurt’s focus — like he wanted to say something more but simply couldn’t.

Either that, or he was waiting for Sam to say something instead.

Well, in that case, Sam may as well rip off the bandage.

“Remember when we almost sang a duet together?” He asked suddenly, disrupting the quiet that had fallen between them.

Kurt didn’t respond for some time, the thick silence suddenly uncomfortable. Sam wondered, momentarily, if Kurt just hadn’t heard him. He was about ready to repeat his question once more when Kurt finally spoke up.

“Well, I’d say it’s pretty hard to forget,” he drew out, slowly. “I had a terribly obvious crush on you. It’s embarrassing to think about in retrospect.”

“Nah, don’t say that! It’s super flattering that a gay guy found me attractive.”

Kurt dispelled a soft breath that sounded like it came from a place of mild exasperation. “Thanks, Sam. I’m thrilled to know that my humiliating forwardness came with the added bonus of a boost to your ego.” Sam couldn’t help but grin at Kurt’s words. His friend had such a consistent, natural humor about him. It was easy to see why Blaine was so in love with him. “Finn was probably right about getting me to back out of the duet for you, though — even if I was mad at him at the time.”

Sam shrugged then. “I dunno about that. I kinda wish you hadn’t.”

Kurt’s character went to a complete stop on the screen and Sam could immediately feel the weight of Kurt’s eyes on him. “What do you mean by that?”

Sam went silent then, pretending to focus on collecting in-game treasure, though he would be lying if he tried to say that he was really in tune with what was happening on the screen before him anymore. Kurt must’ve picked up on it as well, for he paused the game for the both of them and set the controller down on the coffee table. “Sam? You can’t just leave me hanging. So come on, what did you mean by that?”

“I mean, I think I would’ve liked to do that duet with you.”

“What about the whole school potentially thinking you were gay? Wasn’t that like, a huge issue?”

“Maybe to Finn, it was. I never cared, personally. I think that it would’ve been cool. Plus there’s like, way bigger issues than two guys singing a duet together. Like, global warming. Or the fact that Terminator: Salvation didn’t feature Arnold Schwarzeneggar, which kinda worries me for the future of the entire franchise.”

That pulled a smile out of Kurt, which Sam always liked to see. Kurt spent a large portion of his time in high school seemingly pretty unhappy. Sam could recognize why, though — what with being the only gay kid in school and dealing with bullies as well always being overlooked in glee club, it made sense that those things would eventually get to Kurt. And it wasn’t really fair, because Kurt was so nice and caring. He didn’t deserve everything that’s happened to him.

“Point is, you didn’t have to ��set me free’ or whatever it was that you were doing. I agreed to do the duet because I wanted to, y’know? I thought you were talented, that’s all there really was to it.”

Kurt hummed, momentarily averting his gaze as if in thought. Sam had come to realize that Kurt was a thinker. He liked that about him. It was clear that Kurt tried to choose his words carefully rather than just blurt out the first thing that came to mind. Sam should really consider picking up that habit sometime.

Eventually though, Kurt looked back at him, his expression inquisitive. “Where is this all coming from?” He asked.

To that, Sam didn’t have much of an answer. He had wanted to tell Kurt these things for awhile, he figured, but he was largely unsure why it was coming to the surface now.

He could dive deeper, but it would only cause complications. Sam liked Kurt, but he didn’t think it extended anywhere past a friendship. Or perhaps it did. But either way, Sam had never put much thought into his own identity before, and he didn’t think that sitting with Kurt on the couch in front of the Rayman Legends pause screen was the time to finally do so. Kurt had a boyfriend; one that is clearly enamored with him so it was best to stay out of the way of that.

Sam shrugged. “Just something I’ve been thinking about, I guess.”

With that, Sam stood from the sofa to instead crouch down near the Hudson-Hummel’s collection of game consoles. They could talk about that, but not today. Probably not tomorrow either. But someday, surely they would talk about that.

“Let’s play a different game, shall we?” He could feel the strange look that Kurt was giving him, but he ignored it. Instead, Sam sorted through the shelf of games before pulling one from its spot and waved it around a bit. “How do you feel about trying Mario Galaxy?”

[simping4villains]

I’m usually a Feitan girlie, but here’s a little Shalnark one shot that I wrote recently! It’s posted on ao3 and wattpad along with my ongoing Feitan fic (all under the same username).

Please give me some requests bc I love writing little scenarios like these!

Anyway:

Our original plan had failed.

As soon as we got to the special event island, we were stopped by one of the game’s creators and beamed to one of the main cities. Shalnark decided that it would be best for us to find somewhere to rest tonight and regroup in the morning.

“Come on,” he said to us. “There’s a place up the road where we can rent lodging for the night.”

   "So, now what?" I asked while we walked. "Can we still go through with the rest of the mission? We don't have the boat anymore."

   He rubbed his chin as he thought. "I guess for now we'll just play the game until we can find another way off of the island."

   "What he means," Phinks clarified, "Is that we'll steal whatever cards we need in order to get the treasure. That's what Fei and I did before."

   "Right," Shal agreed as he pushed through the front door of one of the city's brick buildings.

   The decor inside was very old and rustic-looking. I noticed that there were cobwebs wrapping around the chandelier that hung in the center of the room. There was a small cat-like man sitting in one of the lobby's plush chairs, reading a book. He smiled at us as we came in, hopping up to run behind the counter.

   "Hello! What can I do for you folks?"

   "We'd like to rent six rooms, please," Shalnark answered.

   "Oh, I'm so sorry. I'm afraid I've only got three left."

   "Should we go somewhere else?" Franklin asked Shal.

  "No, no, we can just pair off—you and Kortopi, Phinks and Feitan, and me and y/n.” He gave me a warm smile as he said my name.

I appreciated Shalnark’s offer to room with me, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t surprised by it. I didn’t think we were necessarily the closest. Then again, who was I really close with out of these guys—Phinks and Feitan? Definitely not, the three of us just teamed up for missions sometimes. Maybe he figured that out of everyone in this group I’d feel least threatened rooming with him. He did have a very welcoming presence after all.

We grabbed our keys from the man behind the counter and climbed the stairs to our shared room.

“I’m excited for our sleepover,” he beamed as he unlocked the door. “I’ve been dying to get to know you better, it’s just that we’ve both been so busy—you with your training and me trying to plan this mission—but what a perfect opportunity this is!”

“Yeah,” I agreed, returning his grin.

It was true that the two of us hadn’t really spent a ton of time together—just a few card games here and there, and that one time he looked after me when I’d passed out during the Yorknew auction mission—but I’d always thought of him as being very kind. Plus, he was pretty close with Machi and Shizuku, and they were probably my best friends in the troupe. So, logically, it made sense that Shalnark and I would get along pretty well, too.

Our room was simple and rustic, just as the lobby had been. The only furniture we had was a beat-up writing desk, a nightstand with a dusty lamp, and a bed just big enough for two.

“Oh no,” he said when he saw it. “Are you okay with sharing? If not I completely understand. I’ll let you have the bed and I can just sleep on the floor or—“

I waved my hands. “No, Shalnark, you don’t have to do that. We can share.”

“Are you sure?”

I nodded. “It’s fine. Really!”

“Okay, as long as you’re comfortable with it!” He flashed me another one of his charming smiles.

He went down the hall to the shared bathroom so we could both have some privacy while changing into our pajamas. I climbed under the covers once I was done and waited for him to get back so I could shut the lights off.

He came back into the room in a pair of purple shorts and a white t-shirt with some video game logo on the front of it, locking the door behind him before rushing and jumping onto the bed. He laughed to himself as he collided with the mattress, then turned to his side and propped his head up on his elbow.

“What, you aren’t tired already, are you?”

“Oh, I mean, were you wanting to stay up?”

“Yeah, I thought maybe we could play a game or something.”

“Like what?”

“Hmm,” He tapped his finger against his lips as he thought. “Oh, I’ve got it! We could play Truth!”

“Truth?” I echoed, not recognizing the game.

“It’s like Truth or Dare, but without the dare part.”

“So, we’d just be asking each other questions?”

He chuckled. “Uh, yeah, I guess that’s all it really is, but you get one chicken card to use if there’s something you don’t want to answer. Is that lame?”

“No, not at all!” I moved onto my side so that I was facing him, too. “You go first so I can think of one.”

“Alright. What’s your favorite color?”

“That’s it?” I laughed. “I was expecting some much deeper questions!”

“Oh, we’ll get to those. I just figured we should start small.” He was smiling again, not that he ever seemed to stop. He really made hanging out with him feel so natural and easy.

“It’s green.”

“What kind? Like a lime green, or an olive green, or a forest green. . .?”

“Mmm probably a deeper green, almost like, well, like your eyes.”

He blinked in surprise at my response, but quickly snapped back to his usual happy demeanor. “I’m flattered. So, did you think of a question for me yet?”

“Who’s your best friend in the troupe?”

“Oh, that’s a tough one!” He weighed his response. “I get along with everyone, but I’d have to say that I’m probably closest with Phinks or Feitan.”

“Really?”

“Is that so hard to believe?”

Honestly, yeah. Phinks and Feitan had regarded me with suspicion when I first joined the troupe, treating me like an enemy, but Shal had always been warm and welcome. It was odd that the three of them would be such great friends. “You’re just pretty different is all.”

“I can see how you’d think that, but they’re good people once you get to know them.” He paused, his expression changing. “Speaking of, is there something going on between you and Feitan?”

My stomach flipped. “What? Why would you think that?”

“Downstairs when I paired people up he didn’t seem to like that I chose to room with you. I guess you must not have noticed the look he was giving me.”

I hadn’t. “Well, I don’t know what that was all about. We can barely stand each other. It’s been that way since I joined.”

It wasn’t technically a lie. There wasn’t anything between Feitan and I—just this stupid attraction that I couldn’t kick, but I knew nothing would ever come of it.

“Okay,” he grinned. “You can count that as my question.”

Fuck, I hadn’t been thinking of what to ask next.

“Do you have anyone?”

It was all I could think of. We were on the subject of romance, so it was the first thing that popped into my mind.

He shook his head. “Nope. I wouldn’t be against it though if I met the right person.”

“What does your ‘right person’ look like?”

He wagged his finger at me. “It’s my turn.”

“Right. Sorry,” I laughed.

“And just for that, I’m stealing your question.”

“No fair!”

He shrugged. “Shouldn’t have tried to skip me, then.”

I jokingly rolled my eyes at him. “Alright, fine. I haven’t really thought about it much, but I guess my perfect person would be. . . someone I could trust, who I can be myself around and who makes me feel safe.”

“Aww that’s sweet.”

“Well, what about you?”

“Oh, no, I’m sorry. Repeat questions aren’t allowed.”

I frowned. “But it was my question.”

“I don’t make the rules.”

He literally did, but I wasn’t going to argue. “Alright, then, um, where’s your spider tattoo?”

“Right here,” he tapped the right side of his chest. “Wanna see?”

I nodded.

He sat up and pulled his shirt over his head. I had already figured by his arms that Shalnark was fit, but that knowledge didn’t keep me from staring at his toned abs. I didn’t mean to, but I couldn’t look away.

Shalnark noticed my wandering gaze. His cheeks lightly flushed as he laid back down again, still shirtless.

“Do you have a question for me now?” I asked.

“I do,” he murmured. “If I tried to kissed you right now. . . would you let me?”

My heart skipped. Was this a joke? No, he wasn’t laughing. He didn’t even have that trademark smile plastered on his face. I searched his eyes—innocent, pleading, sincere. Shalnark wasn’t someone who would hurt me.

Maybe he was exactly what I needed.

I nodded, breathless.

He traced his fingers along my jaw until he reached the back of my neck, where he wove them into my hair. Using this grip, he pulled me closer to him, and our lips met in sparks.

Kissing Shalnark was everything you’d expect: soft, gentle, and sweet. I felt like I was melting against him, turning to putty under his touch. I think he must have known what he was doing to me, because I felt him smiling again.

He broke the kiss, smirking as he brushed his thumb across my lips. “You enjoying yourself?”

“I don’t think it’s your turn to ask a question,” I joked. “And for that, i’m stealing yours.”

He laughed. “Alright, I see how it is. I guess I deserved that.” He moved his hand down my neck and along my side, until it came to rest at my waist. “But yes, I am.”

“Me too,” I smiled.

He rested his forehead on mine, our noses barely brushing. “Do you want to stop?”

“No.”

Our lips connected once more, but nothing about this kiss was the same. We were both driven by a wild passion coursing through our veins, unable to hold back. It was like our bodies burned for each other. No matter how closely he held me to him, it wasn’t enough.

His hands slid under the fabric of my shirt and he helped to guide it over my head. He paused, his lips parting when he saw the way my stomach was littered in scars.

“Y/n. . .” he carefully ran the tips of his fingers over my raised skin.

“Battle scars,” I chuckled awkwardly. “I’m fine, really.”

He wrapped his arms around me again and held me close to his chest, stroking my hair. “I’m sorry. Whatever it was, I’m sorry.”

“Will you just. . . help me forget?”

He tilted my head up so that I was looking into his eyes. “Anything you need, I’ll do it.”

I kissed him again, biting down on his bottom lip before rolling him on top of me. He took the hint and started biting, kissing, and sucking further down my body until he reached my waistband. He hooked his fingers into the top of my shorts and glanced up at me, waiting for confirmation that this was what I wanted. I nodded and he pulled them down along with my panties.

I suppose I should have felt self conscious, being so exposed in front a man I admittedly didn’t know all too well, but Shalnark didn’t give me any reason to feel insecure.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered as I lay sprawled out before him.

He pressed a soft kiss to my knee before pushing my legs apart, then another on the inside of my thigh, and finally his lips covered my clit, causing my hips to buck upward as if they had a mind of their own. He started slowly, teasing me with long, drawn-out strokes in an effort to drive me wild.

“Shal.”

He hummed a question in response, sending vibrations rippling through my core. I threw my head back at the sensation.

“Faster,” I begged. “Please.”

He did as I’d asked, hitting the small bundle of nerves with quick, patterned flicks of his tongue. I moaned as I began to feel the tension building under his skilled movements, my back arching off of the mattress.

He barred an arm across my hips, holding them down as he brought me closer and closer to my release. With his other hand, he traced his fingers around my entrance, testing my wetness with one before sliding two in, curling them over my g-spot and stretching me out.

My hands shot to his head, grabbing fistfuls of his hair as I practically screamed at the amount of stimulation he was giving me. Galaxies exploded behind my eyes as I finally came undone. He moved up to kiss me as I caught my breath, coming down from my high.

“I love the sounds you make for me,” He said, pulling his pants down to release his already-erect cock. “Don’t hold back, okay? I want to know that you’re enjoying it too.”

The rest of our clothes were torn off and thrown into a pile on the floor. We pounced on each other with an animalistic hunger, leaving love bites on every inch of skin we came into contact with.

He sunk into me slowly, giving my body time to adjust to his size, but once I wrapped my legs around his waist he started moving, torturing me with the same drawn out pace as before—the only benefit of this being that I could feel every inch of him rubbing inside of me.

“God, you feel amazing,” he said, burying his face into the crook of my neck. “It’s making it so hard for me to hold back.”

The broken rhythm of his breathing, the brush of his lips against my ear, the strokes that left me wanting more—it was all driving me crazy, making my body feel electric.

“Don’t,” I said.

That was all the convincing he needed.

He fucked into me at a reckless pace, bringing one of my legs up to rest on his shoulder to give him a better angle. He buried himself deeper and deeper, hitting the same, sensitive spot each time he snapped his hips. I arched against him, throwing my head back into a moan. I could already feel another orgasm building.

“There you go, sweet girl. Let me hear that pretty voice of yours.”

“Shal, God, just like that.”

My right hand reached to clutch the bedsheets, but he grabbed it and pinned it over my head, lacing his fingers with mine. My left hand wrapped behind his neck, holding him closer as he dipped down and caught me in a kiss. His tongue ran across my bottom lip and I granted him access, letting him explore my mouth as he pushed me closer to my second release.

His hand came between us, moving to work my clit with his thumb. I gasped at his touch. I was so close now, any second I’d—

“You got it, let it go for me.”

His words sent me over the edge. I pulled at his hair as he rode me through my orgasm, my walls clenching tightly around him. Every sensation was amplified, yet at the same time it felt as though I were experiencing the world in a warm haze. I had never felt so content.

He gave me a moment to come back down to earth before dropping my leg from his shoulder and pressing my knees to my chest. I dragged my nails down his back as he snapped his hips even faster than before, chasing his orgasm. I could tell he was getting close when his thrusts became erratic, not following any particular rhythm. Shortly after, I felt the twitch of his cock inside of me followed by a rush of warmth as he filled me with his cum.

He rested his forehead on mine, shutting his eyes tight as his chest rose and fell with exasperation. After a few final strokes, he pressed a passion-filled kiss to my lips and pulled out of me, letting his seed seep onto the bedsheets.

He laid on his back, smiling to himself as he caught his breath. “That’s not how I imagined our first sleepover would go,” he said, pulling me into his chest, “but I still had fun.”

I nodded in agreement.

He helped me clean up and we got dressed in our pajamas again before settling back into bed. I fell asleep in Shal’s arms, listening to the retro sounds of his video game.

[sadistic-kiss]

I want to tell you that I am so so appreciative of all the yummy meals you've been dishing out, for free! I wish to be able to join the Patreon VIP Diners' gang but alas it's not the right time.

Btw I love House of Alphas so much, literally the main reason why I started using AO3. It's so good.

I atill remember how I finished your Taken fic overnight due to how good it was! Ngl I was a bit iffy of the noncon part(as you've clearly warned) but I felt that I should try your other food as well while I wait for my next meal.

Sorry for going on a whole rant in your inbox but I just love love LOVE your works.

Now I'm going to start reading Desert Rose, thank you so much for all that you do!

Truly I never wanted to open up a Patreon. It was due to me losing my job and I was afraid to not be able to write and that’s why I did it. If I find myself a sugar daddy I’ll ditch Patreon I swear 😂

House of alpha is starting to become my biggest treasure and I don’t know what I’m going to do once it is finished lol.

Taken was so tough to write because I tried to align it with canon as much as possible and unfortunately sukuna is not a good guy… like… at all XD I know that’s my kissy boo boo kins but the cold hard truth is he’s a terrible person and villain. The only thing that saves him is his alpha and he listens to him just because he’s annoyed… nothing else q-q

My other stories are safe except bloody summer- that one I wrote with a friend but as for now it’s kind of discontinued.

Other than that you are safe with me as long as you remeber I’m angsty but I am not GeGe ^=^

No need to ever apologize! Please come by any time you want :3!

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hi there! Just wanted to let you know that you are my first stop when I'm attempting to find a fic with our favorite guys. You are also my first recommendation when I run across anyone who is wanting to find a fic about same. You are truly a fandom treasure.

That said, I know you have an ACD canon list. Could you please add my just completed fic to it? It's Wolfhound and is work #54568060 on AO3. (I'm KtwoNtwo over on AO3).

Thanks much.

Wolfhound by KtwoNtwo (M, 20,783 w., 9 Ch. || ACD Canon || Canon-Typical Violence, Werewolves, Period-Typical Homophobia) – The Baskerville family curse has allegedly taken a victim and Sherlock Holmes has taken the case. Unfortunately the case itself threatens to expose Dr. Watson's most closely held secrets. Secrets that he has somehow managed to conceal so far from Holmes. A retelling of the Hound of the Baskervilles in a universe where Lycanthropy is not only known but is also a death sentence.

=====

Hi Lovely!

Thank you so much for your kind words, oh gosh. I am humbled!!

Secondly, I'll do you one better and signal boost your fic on its own post!! It sounds like a fantastic read, so I implore everyone to go give this one some love!!! :D

Thank you so much!!

[sequinsmile-x]

Aura

noun

the distinctive atmosphere or quality that seems to surround and be generated by a person, thing, or place.

a warning sensation experienced before a migraine

Aaron and Emily finally admit how they feel about each other, and all it takes is a migraine and a night spent sleeping on the couch.

-x-

Hi friends <3

This came about after a conversation with @ssa-sparks, and as usual it spiralled completely out of my control.

I personally can never write enough 'getting together' fics, so I hope you guys don't get bored reading them!!

Please let me know what you think! -x-

Words: 4.3k

Warnings: None

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily rolls her neck as she pours herself a coffee, suppressing a yawn before she takes a sip of the still slightly too hot drink, desperate to wake herself up a little. 

“Long night?” Dave asks, appearing out of seemingly nowhere. She narrows her eyes at him as he stands next to her in the kitchenette, a smirk on his face that seemed way too happy for her liking so early in the morning. His eyes sparkle with mischief as he picks up the coffee pot, “I always forget how delightful you are first thing in the morning.” 

“And I always forget how annoying you are,” she replies, a smile flickering over her face as he feigns hurt, his hand pressed into his chest. She has another sip of her coffee as she looks across the bullpen, her eyebrows furrowing when she sees that Aaron’s office light is still off, just like it had been when she’d first arrived that morning, “Have you heard from Aaron today?” 

He was usually the first to arrive at work. The light in his office like a beacon calling them all in. She remembered when she first joined the team she’d always joke to the others she wondered if he lived in there. Always the first to arrive and the last to leave, setting an example that was impossible for everyone, himself included, to keep. There had been a handful of occasions when he arrived later than the rest of them, but he always texted one of them, these days usually Emily, first. Whether it was because Jack had a doctor’s appointment, or something at his school he needed to attend, he always let them know.

So the lack of contact, the fact he hadn’t arrived yet, lets seeds of concern plant in her belly, something she tries to shake off, sure she’d being overly worried. 

“No,” Dave replies, drawing her attention back to him, a smirk on his face that makes her want to smack him, “I’m sure Aaron is just fine.” 

She rolls her eyes, ignoring the burning in her cheeks at the implication in his tone, his emphasis on Aaron’s first name as he points out that she’d used it. Ever since her return from Paris she and Aaron had become close. Their shared, but different, experiences, the fact they were the only person who could come close to understanding what the other had been through, pulling them together. After he’d made her promise to come to him on her bad days, a deal she knew had initially been employee to superior, things had started to change.

He’d been kind to her, soft in a way she’d seen briefly in the past. He invited her over to spend time with him and Jack over weekends and on evenings when they were free, a smile on his face that he was never quite able to hide as he watched her interact with his son. Somehow, in a way she’d never seen coming, Aaron had become her best friend.

And it had made her feelings for him, the love she’d pretended didn’t exist for as long as she could remember, infinitely more complicated. 

The last thing she wanted to do was to ruin what they had, to throw it away to try something she wasn’t even entirely sure he wanted. There were moments, flashes in amongst the time they spent together, when she was sure he felt the same way. When she’d see something sparkling in his eyes when they met hers. But she was unsure, his presence in her life as her best friend was something she treasured, one of the things she’d rebuilt her life around when she thought it was impossible, and the thought of losing it, him, stopped her from going for something more. 

She was content to love him as a friend, to pretend to herself that it wasn’t more than that, that she wasn’t bursting at the seams as she forced herself not to kiss him whenever he smiled at her, because it was easier than not being able to love him at all. 

“How many times do I have to tell you,” she says, clearing her throat, “We’re just friends.” 

Dave hums and raises his eyebrow at her, talking over his shoulder as he walks away towards his office, “Siete entrambi idioti.”

“Zitto,” she calls back, narrowing her eyes as he smirks at her over his shoulder. She blows out a breath as she looks at Aaron’s office, her stomach churning again at seeing it empty. She shakes her head at herself, telling herself he’s fine, that she’s worrying for nothing, and she mutters to herself under her breath, “Get it together, Emily.” 

It’s like a mantra in her head as she repeatedly tells herself that he is okay, that nothing is wrong. But as the morning slips away, slowly giving way to the afternoon, her texts to him all unanswered and her calls sent to voicemail, the concern that had planted itself the moment she walked in that morning blooms. The flowers of it taking up space in her chest, making it hard to breathe as she remembers the last time he didn’t show up for work. How she’d dismissed her concern then, unaware it was love that was driving it, the feelings she’d had for months by that point only finding a name when she saw him in his hospital bed. 

As soon as it’s lunch time she stands up from her desk, her eyes flicking to Aaron’s still empty office as she slings her bag over her shoulder, “I’m going out.” 

Derek leans back in his chair, his hands on the back of his head as he looks at her, “Where are you thinking of going for lunch, Princess? I could be convinced to go to-”

“I’m just going home,” she says, the lie weak to her own ears, “I’ll let you know if I’m coming back later.” She hurries out of the bullpen before anyone can say anything else, ignoring their calls for her attention. As the glass door vibrates behind her as it slams, Dave steps out of his office, looking down at Emily’s now empty desk.

“Where did she go?” He asks, looking at the team, varying degrees of confusion on their faces. 

“She didn’t say,” JJ says, not looking up from her paperwork, “But I’ll you $20 she’s gone to Hotch’s place to check on him. She’s barely stopped looking at his office all morning.” 

“I’ll take that bet.”

Spencer frowns, “Is this a new bet, or part of the one about them getting together?” He asks, “Because there’s already over $1000 in that pool and it’s getting harder to keep track.”

He jumps as Derek pats him on the shoulder, looking up as the other man smirks at him, “Good thing we have a genius tracking it all then, isn’t it?” 

___

When she steps across the threshold into his apartment, the key he’d given her weeks ago clutched in her hand, it feels like she’s stepped back in time. The eerie quietness, the stillness in a home she now knew to be full of laughter and love, unnerving as she closes the door behind her. Nothing looks out of place as she does a quick visual sweep of the place, a smile flashing across her face as she sees the school project she’d been helping Jack with at the weekend still on the dining table. Aaron’s phone is on the kitchen counter, next to his keys and briefcase, and she sighs, her thumbnail briefly in between her teeth. She steps further into the apartment and shrugs off her jacket, laying it over the back of the couch. 

“Aaron?” She calls out, walking deeper into the apartment, her arms crossed over her chest, “Aaron, it’s Emily.” She comes to a stop outside his bedroom, the door slightly open, and she knocks lightly, frowning when she hears a quiet, but pained response.

“Jack? You’re home from school already?”

She pushes the door open, her eyebrows furrowing as she sees him. He’s lying in bed, pushing himself up on one hand, his other pressed against his forehead as he blinks at her, his expression bleary. He blinks a few times, as if he’s trying to clear his vision, frowning as he looks at her.

“Em?”

“Yeah,” she says, stepping closer, her gaze drifting to the nightstand, landing on a glass of water and a box of migraine tablets, “It’s me. It’s only lunchtime.” 

He groans as he lays back, his arm over his eyes, blocking out the light, “What are you doing here?” 

She knows its wrong, but something about the roughness of his voice, how haggard it sounds, makes her belly flip, “You didn’t show up to work and you didn’t answer your phone,” she says, stepping closer again, “I was worried.”

“Sorry,” he says, clearing his throat, “I tried to come in but my head hurts too much. I can’t even see properly.” 

She knew he suffered from migraines, that he had done ever since the explosion in New York that had almost cost him his hearing, but she’d never seen him have one. He was always so good at hiding his pain from those around him, from those who cared about him, and it makes her ache as she wonders just how many times he’d gone through this alone. 

She makes a decision there and then that she’s not letting him do that this time. 

“I’ll let Dave know I’m not coming back, and-”

“No, Em, it’s fine I don’t need a babysitter,” he says, grimacing when he protests a little too loudly, making his own head throb and his stomach turn, “You can go.”

She raises an eyebrow at him even though he’s not looking at her, and she finally sits down on the edge of the bed, her arms crossed over her chest in unnecessary defiance, “I’ll let Dave know I’m not coming back,” she says, repeating herself as if he’d never interrupted her, “Then I’ll call Jess and ask her to take Jack tonight,” she places her hand on his arm as he tries to interrupt again, swallowing thickly at the shift of his muscles beneath his skin as she squeezes, “And then I’ll just…hang out in your living room whilst you sleep this off, okay?” 

He opens an eye to look at her, the low light in the room that had filtered in through the closed curtains enough to make him feel immediately worse, “You don’t have to look after me.” 

“I know,” she says, screwing her hands together in her lap to stop herself from reaching out to run her fingers through his hair, “But I want to.” 

He doesn’t argue any further with her, and she’s unsure if it’s because he doesn’t have the strength, or because he actually wants her to stay, but she takes it. She leaves his bedroom, careful to make sure she’s as quiet as possible as she makes the calls she needs to make. She choses to ignore the teasing tone in Dave’s voice when she confirms where she is, and what sounds like chatter in the background from the rest of the team, and she makes polite conversation with Jessica, finding herself endlessly grateful that the woman never seemed to question her increasing part in Jack and Aaron’s lives. 

Once she’s done she does a few small chores for him, including putting away the dishes he’d washed but left out to dry, trying not to think too much about the fact she knows exactly where everything goes. She finds herself incapable of not checking on him again, she she walks to his bedroom, an icepack she’d found in his freezer in hand, making sure she’s quiet as she steps back into the room. 

“Em?”

“It’s me,” she replies, careful to keep her voice low as she walks back across the room, once again sitting on the edge of his bed, “I let Dave know you’re sick, said you likely won’t be in tomorrow either. And Jess was more than happy to take Jack,” she says, smiling softly at him as he opens his eyes with what seems like a herculean effort, “I brought you an ice pack,” she says as she hands it to him, “Do you need anything else?” 

“A new brain,” he quips, and she chuckles, passing him the icepack, the shiver that goes down her spine as their fingers touch something she puts down to the coldness of the ice, not the warmth of his skin. 

“Sadly I’m all out of those,” she says, smiling at him, “Besides, I kind of like your brain the way it is,” she adds before she can stop herself, internally cursing as soon as she’s said it. She’s strangely grateful that his vision is blurred, because she knows it means he can’t see the blush creeping across her cheeks, “You get some rest,” she says, squeezing his arm before she stands up, “I’ll be out there if you need me, and I’ll check in every now and again.”

She’s almost at the door when he calls out for her, “Em?”

She looks back, her hand tight around the door handle, “Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

She smiles, pressing her lips together to stop it from growing any further, “Anytime.”

As she once again closes his bedroom door and walks back to his living room, she knows that she’d do anything for him.

___

Aaron groans as he wakes up, the pounding in his head now a dull thud, his vision fully clear as he opens his eyes to test their sensitivity. He rolls onto his back and blows out a breath, running his hands over his face as he sits up, keen not to lose any more time than he already had to the debilitating migraine he’d had the day before. 

He’d felt it coming. The familiar warning signs of his insomnia creeping back in and the nausea that never seemed to settle greeting him just a few days ago. He’d ignored them, vainly hoped they’d go away, that the migraine wouldn’t be as bad this time. A lie he told himself every time this happened, half convinced after he’d recovered that the pain wasn’t as terrible as he’d remembered even though it had always ended up being worse. 

There’s very little he remembered from the day before, the throbbing in his head and his blurred vision overriding everything else. He’d managed to get Jack off to school, once again finding himself grateful that they’d established a long time ago that Jessica would be the one to take him in, and then had attempted to get ready for work but had found himself unable to. It was as if his body had taken over, his instincts forcing him to simply crawl into bed and lay there, no matter how much he wanted to go to work. 

He remembered Emily. Remembered her appearing out of seemingly nowhere. Her perfume the only scent that didn’t seem to make him feel worse as she sat next to him on the edge of his bed, refusing to go anywhere when he said he was fine. She’d looked after him all afternoon, making sure he stayed hydrated, that he took his meds. She swapped out his icepacks and largely left him alone but never strayed too far, and never left it too long before she checked in on him again, poking her head around the corner of his bedroom door, almost tripping over the unfamiliar layout of the furniture in his bedroom every time because she didn’t want to turn a light on and cause him pain. 

Her undeniable beauty, the way she made him feel, were two of the only things that had broken through the hold his migraine had on him. He’d spent enough time with her, enough time learning about the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled, how she would bite her lower lip when she was nervous, how her eyes carried more emotion than she meant them to, that he knew he’d never forget how beautiful she was. He could lose his sight entirely and never get and it back and he’d remember. 

He’d always known she was beautiful, even when he used to be married to Haley, but it didn’t take much time to realise it was more than skin deep. It radiated out of her, shone through her when she looked after those she cared for or when she became protective. It took him too long to realise what it all meant, why she became more and more beautiful to him as time went on, why every thing he learnt about her, good and bad, made him more drawn to her, and it was only when he was standing over a grave he knew was empty he realised. 

He was in love with her, and he had no idea what to do about it. 

She wasn’t the same when she came back, and sometimes he wondered if she really had died that day in Boston. If the Emily he had fallen in love with no longer existed. As time went on, he realised it didn’t matter. He loved every version of her, every bit of her that he could get, and he knew he always would. 

Dave was insistent that Emily felt the same way, constantly telling Aaron that he should go for it, that he was too old to watch them continue dane around each other, but Aaron was hesitant. He didn’t want to hurt her, didn’t want to push her into something, or make her feel as if she could no longer trust him as her best friend. So he put his feelings aside and put up with Dave’s comments, simply glaring at his friend if he ever said something too loudly with Emily close by. 

If all she ever needed was a friend, he would be that for her. 

He remembers her being there, remembers how her presence felt like more of a comfort than any medication could, but he doesn’t remember her leaving, sure he must have just slept through it. He stands up, testing his balance for a moment before he carries on and leaves the bedroom. He’s only made it a few paces into the main section of his apartment when he comes to a stop, his hand rubbing at his neck when he spots her. 

Emily was fast asleep on his couch, curled under a blanket he usually kept over the back of it, her head on a cushion he knows is too thin to sleep on. 

He steps closer and looks at her for a moment, taking in how relaxed she looked. Her mouth slightly hanging open, a small pool of drool on the cushion below, and her hand squished under her cheek. She looked impossibly more beautiful like this, and he feels a pang in his chest as he wishes more any anything he could see her like this every morning. That he could keep this version of her to himself, soft and warm and sleepy, the usual barriers she kept around herself, even around him at times, nowhere to be found. 

He steps closer again and she wakes up, sitting up suddenly, sucking in a breath that sounds panicked and he immediately feels guilty. 

“Em, it’s just me,” he says, smiling encouragingly as their eyes meet. 

“Aaron,” she says, wiping her mouth, clearing her throat as she tries to wake herself up, “Are you okay? Do you need anything,” she stands up, crossing her arms over her chest, feeling nothing short of exposed in her pjyamas - an old t-shirt and a pair of leggings - in front of him, “I didn’t mean to fall asleep, I must have-”

“It’s fine,” he says, smiling at her, “I feel better today, I promise,” he says, watching as she narrows her eyes at him, clearly not entirely believing him, “I mean it.” 

She nods and sits back down on the couch, desperately trying to suppress a yawn as she does so, “Good, I’m glad,” she says, smiling as he sits down next to her, “I was worried about you,” her smile turns tight as their eyes meet, “You weren’t at work and you weren’t answering your phone. It made me think of…”

She drifts off, knowing she’s already said more than she usually would, but she’s tired. She’d barely got any sleep between checking in on him every couple of hours and the lingering concern that had taken root in her belly. Festering until she felt nauseous, no amount of assuring herself that he would be ok, of sticking her head around the door to find him still asleep, let it settle. She still feels worried even now, the lines beneath his eyes deeper than usual, his skin paler. 

He sighs, closing his eyes as he shakes his head at himself, immediately regretting it when his briefly makes the throbbing in his head worse. She didn’t have to say anything else. They’d talked about it at length one evening after Jack had gone to bed, Emily’s eyes fixed on the spot on the floor where Aaron’s blood had once stained it as she explained her version of that day. How she’d known something was wrong but couldn’t explain why, her instincts driving her to seek him out.

Aaron was sure that it was her action, her insistence on checking in on him and ultimately finding him in the hospital, that had saved Jack and Haley that day. That they’d managed to buy enough time to get them into hiding, to give Jack what turned out to be those precious last few months with his mother. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to make up for that, something that had made his failure to save her from Ian even sharper than it already was. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, looking up at her, “I didn’t even really mean to get into bed let alone spend all day there-”

“You have nothing to apologise for,” she says, reaching out and placing her hand on his arm without thinking about it, his skin warm against hers, “It’s not your fault, it wasn’t back then either. I just…I was worried.” 

He nods, placing his hand over hers on his arm, marvelling at the softness of her skin, at how their fingers seemed to slot together perfectly, and he squeezes, “Well thank you for looking after me, you didn’t have to.” 

She smiles at him, her eyes lingering on his face as she takes it all in. The fine lines she usually didn’t see because she was rarely this close to him, the smattering of freckles on his nose, the appearance of stubble over his jaw. He was beautiful, his presence enough to make her feel better, the residual concern she’d woken up feeling gone simply because he was next to her, his hand in hers, and all of a sudden all of the reasons she had for holding back from him no longer make any sense. 

“Yes,”  she says, swallowing thickly as she lets herself be as brave as he always said she was, “I did,” she presses her lips together into a firm line and she reaches out, pushing hair from his forehead just like she had stopped herself from doing the day before, “It’s what you do for the person you love.” 

Everything slows down, the world shrinking down to just the two of them. The breath she lets out catches on every rib as it escapes, almost painful. A dividing line that she’d forever see her life as being before and after. The few seconds it takes him to smile are among some of the longest of her life, drawn out as she worries her worst fears had been realised - that she’d jumped and he hadn’t caught her. 

He shifts closer, the hand that wasn’t tangled with hers cupping her cheek, “Em…” 

“I mean it,” she says, her tongue peeking out to wet her lower lip, something he watches intently, “I’m in love with you. I have been for a long time.” 

He lets it wash over him, sinks into the feeling of awe that he knows he’d willingly drown in. It meant so much more than he ever thought it could, to know his feelings were reciprocated, that he wasn’t alone in it. 

“I love you too,” he replies, watching as she sags with relief, “Probably longer than I should.” 

She smiles, wide and bright, unshed tears shining in her eyes, “Really?” 

He chuckles, amazed by the fact she didn’t realise the power she had, that she didn’t know how enthralled he was by her. 

“Really,” he confirms, pressing his thumb into her lower lip, testing the plushness of it, “Even if you did drool on my couch.”

She scoffs, outrage taking over as he chuckles at her, “You-”

He leans forward to press his lips against hers, cutting off her response. She grasps the back of his head, holding him in place, and he wraps his arms around her, his palm warm on her back, everything else forgotten except this moment. Something they’d both survived so much for. 

At their wedding, only 18 months later, Dave presents them with an incredibly expensive bottle of champagne that he bought using his winnings from the team’s bet. A wry smile on his face as he claims he was the one to thank for the fact there was a wedding at all, that he’d pushed them towards each other. 

For once, Emily can’t bring herself to correct him, to say they’d done it themselves, that they’d found their way to each other, her happiness far overriding anything else. 

-x-

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[gergthecat]

Stars - No POV Lae

For much of her short life, Lae Gilwraeth-Jones had spent much of her spare time not with dolls or sims of the billowing rapids of the rivers on New Syldra and the frozen peaks of the tallest Terran mountains. No, she had always been concerned with the cosmos. Her parents watched her let endless hours evaporate as she sat on the plush carpet of her father’s home office, gazing out the window at her mother’s fleets as they haunted the stars. 

At every chance she got, she would look past the revolving mechanic fortress of the Aurora Legion and into the soft, glowing forest of stars. 

When Lae wasn’t studying the stars, she was trying her hardest to understand them.

To anyone who might have seen Lae, it was clear that she would spend her life weaving through the stars as her parents had. Perhaps she’d follow in her father’s footsteps and be joined by legionnaires, look at the stars planetside on voyages to reconnect the worlds lost during the battle with the Ra’haam. Perhaps she’d join her mother and uncle at the New Syldra Cultural Restoration Society and spend her years recreating the ‘Way as it had been seen from her species’ home planet, through the eyes of Syldrathi come and gone. Whatever she chose would be a noble effort. 

Certainly, she would excel at whatever she chose; her parents assured her of it whenever they got the chance. 

Lae was prone to anxieties, however, which caused her parents to adapt to the ability to comfort a nervous rambler, something neither of them had needed to do before her birth. Her father would lift her into his arms as her mother whispered soft Syldrathi into her ear until she fell asleep. 

Her future was one of the things she was most concerned with. She loved hearing her mother's stories of life on Syldra. Upon visiting when she was seven, her uncle presented her with a bound collection of Syldrathi mythology and fables, and she treasured it as if it were made of Terran gold. Lae would come to appreciate the lessons her book had taught her more than the physical token.

a/n:

Sorry for the long wait between fics, guys! My mental health has been going down recently due to my misophonia, which has gotten worse now that I'm back in school, so writing fics has taken a back seat a bit. I ended up writing this a few weeks ago on vacation and just edited it today. Sorry it's pretty short, but I've been thinking a bunch about Lae recently (I swear I haven't forgotten about you, Legacy). Thanks to all of you who read my fics and comment on them (especially @skeelly, who's read some even though she has no clue what they're about). You guys and this community mean the world to me.

<3

Check me out on AO3 :)

Masterlist

[coloursflyaway]

That's so sweet of you to even reply! Um now that you've put me on the spot 😂..honestly I'm a bit clueless 😅. I'm not very imaginative. I just really enjoy reading zowens and so far the few I've read from a couple of you guys have been reallyy good reads!

All I know is that may be something where it's mutual pining and Sami's lost all hope but it's actually not unrequited?? May be a bit of possessive Kevin thrown in? Idk 😭 is what I just said even classified as a prompt??

PS. I know you said you haven't watched wrestling in a while but did you happen to catch the zowens moments at wrestlemania at all! ? 😍😁

Hi!!

So, first of all, great prompt, fits them fantastic, loved it. I just ended up overdoing it by a little, I think, so now it's not really a prompt fill anymore, but a whole fic 😂 really didn't expect that because writing has been Hard lately, so thank you for that!!

Here's the AO3 link, but I'll include the text here too.

PS. I have mainly seen the gifsets of them, but they are!!! so!!!! I love them ♥

There is a brand-new, shining belt in his hands and Sami is aware that this should be the happiest moment in his life. It isn’t. He looks down at the silver plates, the leather strap, heavy and solid and everything he worked for, and he’s happy, of course, but in the back of his mind, he knows that it doesn’t compare to - Well. No matter. Some things you cannot have; Sami has learnt that years and years ago.

Kevin’s face is shining with joy about the match he won and the beers he has had to celebrate it, and Sami’s heart aches at the sight, fierce and wild and beautiful. “The next time”, Kevin mutters into the too-short distance between them, and when Kevin takes another deep swig of his drink, Sami knows that he will have forgotten the words the next morning, “the next time, we’ll tag and we will take all of them out. Jus’ you and me, we’ll fuck them up and send them back crying to their mothers. An’ then we’ll do it again, and again, and again, until we’ll get a shot a’ the titles and then we’ll take ‘em too. An’ we’ll be unstoppable.”

He’s beaming and leaning in and Sami feels himself swaying closer, cannot stop himself. Kevin is magnetic, always has been, and Sami sometimes wonders how long he’ll be able to stop himself from giving in to his pull.

There is a knock on the door of his dressing room, which finally pulls him out of his reverie. Sami takes a moment to compose himself before he answers, wiping silly fantasies from his mind that he has known to be useless for most of his life now like he would wipe tears from his eyes. He’s used to both, after all. “Come in!”

The door swings open, and he shouldn’t, but Sami knows who is behind it before he sees Kevin standing there. “Shouldn’t you be celebrating?”, Kevin asks instead of a greeting, stepping into the room like he owns it. In some way, Sami guesses, he does. “What makes you think that’s not what I am doing?”, he asks back, getting up, because knowing Kevin, he’ll be pulled into a hug within the next thirty seconds. Knowing himself, he won’t ever be able to turn down a chance to be close to Kevin.

His words draw a laugh from Kevin’s lips that Sami treasures, and just like Sami knew he would, Kevin wraps his arms around him the second Sami has stood up. The edges of his belt presses into his stomach painfully, but that is a small price to pay for the comfort of Kevin’s thick, warm arms around him, the faint tickle of Kevin’s beard against Sami’s neck.

“To start with”, Kevin begins to answer while still pressed against Sami, only slowly pulling back, “because you are in here and not out there, where you should be. Also, because I have known you for more than half my life and this isn’t your celebratory face.”

“Sounds good”, he replies easily, then adds, “only that we’ll have to wait a bit longer with doing that, I’m booked to tag with Quicksilver the next show. But after that…” He doesn’t expect more than a scoff – Kevin isn’t that fond of Quicksilver, but then again, he isn’t fond of a lot of people – but instead, Kevin’s face darkens, his brows furrowing and his eyes suddenly glistening in the dim light of the bar. It’s a look Sami half-recognises from the ring, because the intensity is almost the same, but there is something else mixed into it. Something dark, something dangerous, something alluring.

He’s right, of course he is, but Sami still tries for a few moments to come up with an excuse, before he finally nods. It wouldn’t make a difference, saying anything else, when Kevin knows him so well. “It’s nothing”, he adds, because he can see Kevin starting to worry within half a second. “Just a bit of nostalgia. Reminiscing about the old days, you know the drill.” “How old?”, Kevin asks and, thank God, the smile is back in his voice and his eyes and Sami wants to luxuriate in it, wants to stay here forever. In any moment with Kevin, really.

“Ring of Honor old”, he replies with a wry smile, because it almost feels like a confession; to be here, at the pinnacle of his career, and thinking about being young and dumb and so, so hopeful. Again, it makes Kevin laugh, makes him clasp a hand on the side of Sami’s shoulder; a point of contact that is so warm it would be enough to sustain him through a winter. “That is old.” “I know.” “Anything special? Or just the general beauty of horrible hotels, being sixty percent bruises and having to put me in bed after I drank my weight in shitty lager?”

There is something about old wounds, the way their pain becomes familiar, almost an old friend. Sami’s lips tingle, remembering, his heart aches, dull and yet fierce, but he smiles nonetheless, too used to the pain for it to feel disruptive.

“All of the above, I’d say.”

“Quicksilver?”, Kevin repeats, and even his voice is different, rough and full of something that Sami doesn’t understand, yet desperately wants to. “Yes. You know, silver and blue mask, used to hang around with Scorpio Sky?” “I know who he is”, Kevin replies, but his voice hasn’t changed. Maybe Sami missed a fight between them in the past? “Why are you tagging with him?”

Sami self-consciously pushes a hand through his hair; it’s becoming too long again. “Well, he asked and I didn’t see anything wrong with giving it a shot. He seems like a-” “You shouldn’t tag with anyone but me”, Kevin interrupts him, and suddenly Sami does recognise what is dripping from every word he speaks: hunger. “Fuck Quicksilver. Fuck all of them. They don’t have what we have. They never will.”

“Doesn’t sound very celebratory”, Kevin states, but there is humour in his voice. “How about tomorrow, after I win the United States Championship, we’ll do it properly? I don’t think I’ll be able to give you the customary three dozen bruises until then, but if you really miss it so much, I am sure we can find some terrible highway motel we can crash in. And as long as it’s better beer, I don’t mind drinking too much of it.”

It’s a joke, of course it is, and a sweet half-serious offer to relive a bit of a time Sami misses dearly on occasion, and yet it’s suddenly too much. Because he has a title in his hands, because out there, there are thousands who cheered for him, and yet, it isn’t the happiest moment in his life, not by far.

The familiar ache in his chest breaks open like the earth cracking in half to spew fire, and Sami knows that he cannot keep the pain from his face even before Kevin reacts. But react he does, worry suddenly clouding his gaze, the hand he still has on Sami’s shoulder gripping harder.

“Sami?”, he asks, and his voice is too much, his gaze, his concern, his friendship that has never been all Sami wanted. “Are you alright? Should I get a doctor?”

“I’m okay”, Sami manages to force out, but he doesn’t sound it, not even to himself. “Just. Don’t say that, Kevin. Not with the… the shitty hotels and the drinking.” It takes a moment to get a reaction, which Sami understands; he isn’t making sense, after all. But then, all of a sudden, Kevin’s expression crumples, his shoulders drop like a burden, half-forgotten, has been forced upon them once more.

“I’m sorry”, he mutters, fingers tightening reflexively around Sami’s shoulder before they fall away. “I never… the last time, when I got so drunk you had to take me to my room, you never told me what happened, even if I have an inkling… I don’t think I ever had the guts to say it, but I’m sorry. For whatever it is I did.”

“Kevin”, he breathes out, unsure, because surely this cannot be happening. Sami has been aware of his own feelings for years, but there is no way they could be requited. And yet, there is a glint in Kevin’s eyes that looks like yearning; and yet, Sami’s heart picks up its pace, spelling out in morse code: pleasepleasepleaseplease.

A moment of silence stretches between them, thick and viscous, then Kevin knocks back the rest of his beer, before crushing the can and dropping it on the floor. “Fuck it”, he mutters, and Sami wants to ask what he means, but before he can get the words out, Kevin reaches out, one hand on Sami’s hip, one on the side of his neck, and pulls him in. He tastes of gas station beer and stale chips and almost ten years of quiet, desperate, hopeless longing, and even before he manages to kiss back, Sami knows that this is the happiest he ever will be.

“What?”

Kevin isn’t looking at him anymore, but there is so much pain written in clear, horrible letters across his face that it washes away the ache in Sami’s chest; how could it matter, when Kevin is hurting right in front of him?

A wry laugh escapes Kevin’s lips, which might be the worst sound Sami has ever heard, but then he speaks, still not looking at Sami, and makes it worse. “I’m sure you remember it as well as I do, that one night when we were still in ROH. Before you started tagging with Quicksilver. When Chuck, I think, got all that horrible beer from the gas station around the corner and I just didn’t know when to stop. I never had the guts to ask what happened either, but you were so different afterwards, didn’t want to be touched, to be alone with me… and the scribbling on my arm… tell me if I’m wrong, but after some time I figured that I probably, you know. Kissed you. Which I shouldn’t have, of course. Against your will. So, don’t worry, I won’t do that again. Ever.”

“Did you sleep well?”, Sami asks the next morning when Kevin opens the door of his hotel room, looking dishevelled and hungover and utterly beautiful. For once, they had splurged on two hotel rooms instead of sharing one, and while Sami wishes he could have woken up next to Kevin, maybe even wrapped up in his arms, this, too, is wonderful.

He hands Kevin one of the coffees he picked up at a nearby café, idly wondering if this could become his thing now, treating his… his Kevin to coffee in the morning. After all, he usually is up far earlier than the other.

“Ugh”, Kevin replies, taking a gulp of coffee before even trying to form words, and it might be the most enchanting sound Sami has ever heard. “Think so. Can’t remember much. About sleeping or last night. Did you get into a fight, by the way?”

“What? No, no fights”, Sami replies distractedly, wondering if that means Kevin doesn’t remember their kiss, wondering if that means they will get to have two first kisses. Almost smiles at how much he will get to tease Kevin about it if he really has forgotten. All but plans to start the story of how they got together with this from now on: you know, I was in love with Kevin for almost a decade and he kisses me and then immediately forgets about it! Can you believe that?

“You sure?”, Kevin asks again between sips of coffee. “I know my handwriting is awful and drunk it’s even worse, and the letters are really smudged, but I wrote Don’t fuck with Sami on my arm last night.”

It takes a moment to sink in through the layers of happiness and imagined mornings and afternoons and evenings together, but eventually, Sami learns what it feels like to have the world end while not making a sound.

Sami recognises the pain on Kevin’s face; it’s the twin of his own, the one that has been with him for so long that it has found its permanent home at the bottom of his heart, with him in every moment he spends with Kevin, every one they are apart. It’s old and it’s weary and it’s familiar, and Sami should hate it, but.

But if his heart houses the other half of it, then that has to mean something.

And then Kevin says kissed, and for a moment, Sami thinks that he remembers, before realising that, no, he doesn’t, and somehow that is worse.

“You did”, he answers, and finally, Kevin looks at him again. His eyes are wide and terrified and still beautiful, and Sami hasn’t allowed himself to think it for a decade at least, but he loves him so much it is tearing him apart. “You kissed me that night. And then you didn’t remember it the next day, only had that writing on your arm and I thought you were trying to warn yourself not to do it again. But. Kevin. I kissed back.”

Kevin stumbles into his room, his lips still tingling with the last kiss Sami pressed onto them before closing the door behind him. Smiling so brightly Kevin thought he would burn up just looking at him, so happily that Kevin wanted to burn. Sami. The name alone is enough to make something within Kevin break open and pour out six or seven or eight years of pure love into the space between his ribs. He can’t explain why he had the courage to kiss Sami tonight, when he had sworn to himself he never would again and again and again, but now, knowing how Sami’s lips feel against his, how his hair feels between his fingers, his body pressed against Kevin’s, he thanks every divine entity he might believe in or not that he did.

Sami.

The alcohol is making his movements sluggish and sloppy, but Kevin manages to find a pen at the bottom of his backpack anyway, stored away for – maybe, hopefully – signing autographs after the show. He didn’t, but not even that matters anymore, because he needs it now for something much more important.

Don’t forget kiss with Sami, he writes on his arm, letters sloping and curling into each other, a smudge across half of it.

Not that he thinks there is much risk of doing so. After all, hadn’t Sami kissing him back been the happiest moment of his life?

There is no answer for several seconds, Kevin just staring at him like he has changed his life and hung the stars and the moon and the sun itself, and Sami is stuck in place until he isn’t anymore. Because the first time, years and years ago, Kevin had been brave enough to take the first step, and afterwards, Sami hadn’t dared to do the same. But maybe now is the time to return the favour.

Trembling, he picks up Kevin’s hands, which are warm and familiar, have caused as much hurt as they have healed, and puts them on his own body: one on his hip, the other on the side of his neck. And he steps closer, until he’s so close he can read the hopeful disbelief in Kevin’s eyes, can feel that the other’s breath has stopped.

“It was just like this”, Sami explains, and Kevin’s gaze drops to his lips, shoots up again as if he has to make sure that Sami wants this. “You didn’t want me to tag with Quicksilver. Or anyone else. You said that they could never have what we have, and you were right, and then you pulled me in and-”

Kevin kisses him.

He tastes like chewing gum and Red Bull and love, and Sami drinks him in until it feels like he is drowning, and even before he manages to kiss back, Sami knows that this, now truly, is the happiest he ever will be

[ineadhyn]

Fic writer asks

Source

Tagged by @vixstarria - Thank you so much! These are really fun questions

4. a story idea you haven’t written yet

I have a whole list but what keeps nagging me most rn is some Korrilla backstory. I also have not been normal about Kagha for a while and I eventually will have to write her being reduced to a whining mess :D And there's this Raphlep modern AU brewing.

12. a trope you’re really into right now

hmmm ... I don't know if anything qualifies.

18. if you keep them, share a deleted sentence or paragraph from a published fic

I do keep cut scenes to eventually reuse, so let me open my doc. Ahhh, that one XD some cut dialoge of the teens making Raphael use pronouns.

“Fuck, you’re right, Vi, that’s the guy who fried my phone.” “The devil. And his weird companions.” “And who exactly are you then?” Haarlep stepped in between them, their arms crossed. Raphael saw the incubus seizing all three members of the group. “Huey, Dewey, and Louie?” Raphael, who had spent more of his evenings after work watching the cartoon channel than he’d willingly admit, saw Haarlep’s point. The three of them, teenagers, but most likely in the late stages of teendom, had an intricate set of looks that he hadn’t paid attention to when he had been mid battle and then dying. The first one was the tallest and with blonde braids and an affinity for knitwear. “Saf. She, her.” The second was smaller with brown wavy hair that featured a blue streak and oversized clothes. “Blue. He, him. And I am Rose, any pronouns.” SThe last one was of a muscular build with a pink pixie cut. Raphael raised a brow. “Are these your real names?” “Who cares? Wouldn’t it be polite to introduce yourselves after burning my phone and following us like creeps?” “Following you -?” “Haarlep, they, but he and she also works.” “Is this your real name?”

“Who cares?” Raphael interrupted the blossoming fraternization, but he still could hear Haarlep answer “In all the ways that matter.” The three kids stared at him until he resigned. “Fine, if you like that, I am Raphael and I go by he/him and that’s Korilla who went by she/her when I last asked. And I am certainly not following you.”

19. the most interesting topic you’ve researched for a fic

Not for a fic but my og work I researched about private bunkers, if a headshot with a flintlock pistol could make a head explode and how much a chest full of treasure would actually weigh (too much to move it without magic). For fic I only researched some dnd lore and how much private islands cost. Also, yes, threesome positions - I am with you there, vix.

22. do you ever worry about public reaction to what you’re writing? how do you get past that?

I was really worried with Circus of the dead, because it features a such a controversial ship. I dealt with it by not promoting it much, just putting it on ao3 quietly. To this point nobody cancelled me ...

Just feel tagged. Really I'd love to read all your answers, I just never know who to tag :D Questions I'd like to see answered are: 3,8,10,18,26,29