#I wrote the ending and my betas FREAKED OUT over it

[jackyfalahees]

And here is my second snippet for the fic I decided to write to give myself a break from sword fic, aka Library Fic, currently untitled:

“If you- you would like to spend more time here, yes?” He asked, his mouth slightly open, as if he wanted to say something more, but cut himself off. Was he waiting for her to follow? To lead?

Time with you?

“In the library?” She went in the opposite, unwanted direction.

“Yes.”

He walked down the opposite path, and she fell.

“Yes,” she swallowed her pride, and wished she could swallow the uncomfortable swell in her throat. “Very much.”

He smiled.

She couldn’t be angry with him.

Not when he smiled.

Not when he looked at her, not when he walked into a room and tried to make her feel comfortable, not when he didn’t leave.

And not when he was standing in front of her, leaning against the bookshelf and holding his favorite poem, wearing black but bringing light and vibrancy into the entire room. No stone walls between them. No dark corners.

“I am sorry, but you will have to endure more of our English stories.” He feigned a disappointed sigh, but he failed, the corner of his mouth turning upwards. He ran his free hand through his hair. “I swear, we have some fine works-”

“I will read them,” she said. “Do not worry, Your Majesty. I want to learn all I can.”

“And you will.”

His voice, so deep and full of confidence, so sudden, hitting her in the chest like a punch. Confidence and- faith? Faith in her?

“You’ll never be able to hide your intelligence, Guinevere.”

Another punch, a stronger strike, a blow to the knee.

“Not with you?”

God, her voice was small, but she swore the question echoed on the stone walls, throwing the shards of vulnerability back in her face. Hits and cuts.

“No,” he shook his head, “not with me.”

Actions, she thought.

Actions, not words.

“A fine compensation for having no French.”

She waited for a laugh. “There can be no books in French, my Queen, because we were at war with them.” A false chide, different from her father’s favorite tone— if he went down the wrong path, they could still see each other across the way. Pray for a fork in the road.

Arthur didn’t laugh.

He glanced at the shelves.

He nodded, to himself.

“You did not bring any of your own books with you?” He asked.

[ourdawnishotterthanourday]

RAW [M] — Lee Seokmin

✧ If you're a freak and you know it, clap them cheeks ✧

In which Seokmin, your sweet doting boyfriend, fucks you raw for the first time, and ends up discovering his kinky side.

✧ Genre: domestic AU; SMUT [18+], established relationship ♥ Pairing: female!reader x boyfriend!Lee Seokmin ✧ Word count: 6.3k+ ✦ Warnings: nsfw warnings under the cut! ✎ Notes: hope y'all enjoy this little seok fic I wrote for you 🤭 was feeling a little feral, so this concept fit my mood perfectly hehe ♕ Shout out:  thanks to my amazing bestie @whipped-for-kpop-fics for making me this masterpiece of a banner AND helping me brainstorm for this one. This one really couldn't have happened without you and your shrexy brain! I love youuuuu 💖 and thank you thank you thank you @wonuvs for beta-reading this for me!! Very much appreciated :3

♡ REBLOGGING AND/OR FEEDBACK WOULD BE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED — DON'T BE A STRANGER PLS ♡

nsfw warnings: outdoor/public sex, fingering, cunnilingus, squirting, spanking, raw sex (the title is there for a reason hehe), heavy breeding kink, feral seok dirty talk, messy creampie (pls let me know if I missed any!)

You had every intention to hang the wet laundry out to dry on this beautiful sunny day. It was a simple task, really, one you could have completed in less than five minutes had you not let yourself get distracted. 

Said distraction came in the form of Lee Seokmin, your sweet doting boyfriend of four years, who had decided to take advantage of the nice weather and switch his usual gym session for a home workout in your garden.

It was quite the sight as he sat on the weight bench, his gorgeous sun-kissed arms and legs on full display, toned muscles pulling and coiling with every raise of his arms. His skin was coated in a thin layer of sweat, making his brown locks stick messily to his forehead. It was almost as if he was chiseled by the gods themselves with how absolutely breathtaking he looked in the bright and glowy sunlight.

You had to resist looking over every few seconds as you attempted to put the laundry pieces on the clothes line. But as the minutes passed, you quickly discovered that trying to suppress the urge to gawk at your hot boyfriend was a battle you weren’t going to win, especially when he was constantly releasing those sinful grunts that sent your mind into a frenzy. 

Before you knew it, the laundry was long forgotten. The only thing that was going through your mind in that moment was how much you wanted — no, needed — to feel Seokmin’s sweaty body against yours. Thanks to your busy and exhausting schedules, it had been a few days since you and your boyfriend last had sex, which, with a sex drive as high as yours, had driven your need for the man to an all time high. 

It was time to do something about that.

Your legs were already moving on their own accord as your hungry gaze settled on Seokmin’s thick thighs, a mischievous smile overtaking your features as you planned out your next move.

Your boyfriend was completely lost in his own world, totally oblivious to the thirsty thoughts floating around in your head as you crept up on him. The headphones he wore drowned out any distracting sounds as he focused on his reps, and with his eyes fully closed, he did not hear you approach him until it was already too late. 

“What the f— baby?!” Seokmin nearly dropped the two 8kg dumbbells he was holding when you jumped him out of nowhere, trapping him with your arms and legs like a clingy koala. 

“That’s me.” You giggled at the dazed look on your boyfriend’s face as you uncovered his ears.   

“What’s the meaning of this?” he breathed, carefully lowering his arms to place the dumbbells into the grass.

You licked your lips, shifting your hips slightly to get more comfortable. “What does it look like?”

“Like you’re trying to kill me,” he groaned before firmly planting his hands onto your sides to get you to stop rubbing against his crotch. 

A sly grin tugged at the corners of your mouth. “That’s what I was trying to go for.” 

“Oh, were you now?” He raised his eyebrows. “I was almost done with my workout, you know?”

“Hmm, that really sucks then.” You tangled your fingers in his messy hair. 

“Give me five more minutes,” he mumbled, briefly closing his eyes at the feeling of your nails scratching along his sensitive scalp. 

“No,” you whined, immediately stopping all movement, much to your boyfriend's disappointment. “I need attention now. It's been too fucking long already.”

You didn't care how whiney you sounded. You needed him right at this moment, and you sure as hell weren't going to wait another minute, especially not for him to finish his damn workout. 

“But I'm sweaty,” he argued with a scrunch of his nose. 

You smirked at that, tightening your grip on his hair as you moved in closer, your lips now less than an inch apart. 

“Even better,” you whispered before teasingly brushing your lips against his. “You're fucking hot when you're sweaty,” you continued, which was followed by you shifting your hips once again, this time with a little more force. 

Seokmin released a sharp hiss at the throbbing sensation your hips left in their wake. The muscles in his thighs automatically tightened, and so did the grip on your waist, all of which you were more than excited about. You got him right where you wanted, and it was only a matter of time before he would take the bait. 

“You're the devil.”

“Only when I have to be.” You grinned, your big twinkling eyes glued to his face as you slowly began to trail one of your hands down his chest. You only stopped when you reached the now very prominent bulge in his black shorts. 

“Fucking hell,” Seokmin cursed under his breath when you gave him a little experimental squeeze. It was just a simple touch, but he already felt the arousal gradually starting to overtake his mind and body. Just a minute ago, he’d been in full workout mode, but now he suddenly couldn’t stop imagining you stuffed full with his cock, begging him to make you cum again and again until you could no longer move. 

You took advantage of the moment and closed the little bit of distance between you to pull him into a deep kiss. Seokmin didn’t resist, already having decided that he’d much rather spend his time pleasuring his pretty and horny girlfriend instead of finishing the remainder of his stupid arm reps. Besides, you were right. It had been a while since he’d gotten his dick wet, so if you wanted to change that, who was he to object?

It only took a few seconds before Seokmin’s lips were just as hungry and forceful as yours, pulling at your mouth with an eagerness that made your gut clench with anticipation. 

His hands navigated down to the swell of your ass, fingers digging roughly into the soft fabric of the yellow sundress you were wearing to press you into his growing erection. You moaned into the kiss at the sudden shift, your own hands moving to grasp at whatever piece of bare skin you could find as you felt yourself grow hotter by the second. 

Your patience was slowly beginning to run thin the longer you sat in his lap with your panties soaked and your neglected cunt begging to be filled. You honestly hadn't felt this needy in a while, so you really didn't want to deprive yourself of Seokmin’s dick for much longer. And you prayed that he felt the same. 

You knew the man liked to drag the whole thing out with a shit ton of foreplay, which often included endless make out sessions and bringing you to multiple squirting climaxes before he even got to fuck you. It was the whole reason sex with Seokmin had become one of your favorite pastime activities in the first place. 

Your boyfriend was a natural at pleasuring you, and he had been since day one. You quickly learned that faking pleasure and Seokmin could never belong in the same sentence. In fact, more often than not, you’ve had to beg him to stop making you cum for fear of passing out from over stimulation. But even in those moments, he usually still managed to pull another few mind-shattering orgasms out of you like the magician he was, and you were certainly not complaining. 

It was just that right now, in this particular moment, you needed him to skip the long foreplay and fastforward to the part where he fucked you stupid. 

“Min, I need you inside me so bad,” you whimpered in between kisses, hoping your boyfriend would get the hint and give you just that. 

He did not get it. 

All you got out of it was an appreciative grunt and a harsh squeeze to your backside that did nothing to satiate the pulsing ache in your pussy. 

Accepting that you were just going to have to speed things up yourself, your hand sneakily found the waistband of his shorts, fingers already tugging the material out of the way to grab a hold of his hard dick. If everything worked out in your favor, you'd be sitting on it within the next twenty seconds. 

“Fuck, baby,” Seokmin groaned, one of his hands clasping around your wrist before you even had the chance to wiggle your hand inside his shorts. “Why don't we go inside before we start ripping off clothes, hmm?”

“No.” Confusion. That’s the emotion that flashed across your boyfriend’s face at the sound of your outright no. 

“No? But I thought you wanted to…?” He frowned, slightly loosening his hold on you when he thought you didn’t want to continue. 

You quickly wrapped his arms back around your waist before grasping his face in your hands. 

“Oh, I do.” A cheeky grin pulled at your mouth. “Right here. You're fucking me here.”

“Right here? O-outside?” Seokmin stuttered, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head as he seemed to process your words. 

Although your sex life was pretty active and more than satisfying, you couldn’t exactly call it adventurous. Despite many of your close friends believing that you and Seokmin were a couple of kinky fuckers, your sexual escapades were usually limited to your bedroom and definitely more on the vanilla side of the spectrum. 

Not that there was anything wrong with that, of course. On the contrary, even the most vanilla sex with him felt a hundred times better than the riskier and more experimental sex you’d engaged in with some of your exes, so you didn’t even really miss it. Still, sometimes — like right now — you wished he’d just throw you around and fuck you into the next day for everyone to see. 

You were, however, very much aware that asking him to fuck you in the garden was a complete one-eighty from your usual bedroom adventures, and it could potentially get you caught by your nosy old neighbors, which was definitely a con. But then again, you were feeling unusually risky today, so you honestly couldn't care less who got to see you getting railed. Your only concern right now was soothing the ache in your throbbing cunt. 

All you had to do was convince your lovely, handsome boyfriend to make that happen. 

“Yes, right here.” You nodded and reached up to undo the first two buttons of your dress, taking note of how your boyfriend's eyes automatically gravitated towards your fingers. “Got a problem with that?”

“Well, uh…” Seokmin swallowed thickly as you popped three more buttons, exposing the strapless, lacy, white see-through bra you were wearing underneath. Your hard peaks were poking right through the flimsy material, which made it nearly impossible for him to rip his eyes away from the arousing sight. Your boyfriend was a sucker for your boobs — or any part of your body for that matter — which is exactly why you hoped the next part of your plan would work.

“I think— uh…” He tried to form a coherent sentence, but failed terribly when you popped another three buttons, his eyes following diligently as your action revealed the smooth skin of your stomach. “What I’m trying to s— that…”

By the time you popped the remaining three buttons, Seokmin had completely forgotten what he was going to say. His eyes were practically glued to your body, in particular to the matching see-through panties that left little to the imagination. They gave him a perfect view of your puffy folds and the arousal seeping through the already drenched material. 

Seokmin was — understandably —  having a hard time keeping it all together.

“Well?” You suppressed a grin to hide the fact that you were thoroughly enjoying the effect you had on your handsome boyfriend. “You gonna help me undress or do I have to do everything myself?”

You got your answer when he planted his lips back on yours without another word, hardly giving you a second to breathe as he pushed his tongue past your lips. You instantly melted against him as your body flooded with heat once more, your hands fumbling to grasp onto his shirt in an attempt to ground yourself. 

Seokmin’s fingers made quick work of your bra, skillfully unclasping the constricting garment and throwing it carelessly in the grass. He took a moment to admire your newly exposed flesh, eyes darting from one nipple to the other before they drifted back down to the drenched panties hugging your cunt. 

He subconsciously licked his lips as he imagined his face buried between your legs, drowning himself in the taste of your sweet juices while you screamed out his name. 

“Stop staring like a creep and do something, please.” Your hand was back in his hair, fingers tightly gripping onto his locks as you pulled at his head, forcing him to rip his eyes away from your pussy and back up to your face. 

“You want me to do something?” An amused smile took over your boyfriend's features as he took in your desperate expression. 

“Yes!” you nearly cried, feeling seconds away completely losing your shit. “I swear to god, Seokmin. If your dick is not inside me within the next twenty seconds I’ll d— ah!”

You didn’t get to finish the rest of your sentence as you were cut off by your own shriek, eyes going wide with shock as you gaped at a smug-looking Seokmin. Just a second ago, you’d been sitting in his lap, but now you suddenly found yourself trapped beneath him, sprawled out on the metal workout bench and completely at his mercy.  

“You'll do what, baby?” Seokmin smirked triumphantly at your stunned face.

“Forget that,” you breathed, using the grip you had on his hair to pull him in for another kiss. “Fuck, that was hot. I want more where that came from.”

“Noted.” His eyes darkened as he pulled back slightly, and you released the grip you had on his head to allow him to lean back further. 

Your belly fluttered with anticipation when he moved the fabric of your dress aside to make contact with your bare skin. His hands teasingly began to trail down your sides, sending a series of tingles down your spine as you let your mind run wild with desire. 

A shaky breath left your mouth when your boyfriend hooked his fingers into your underwear, excitement filling your body instantly. You were already starting to lift your hips, eager to help him get rid of the one thing separating your cunt from his hungry gaze. 

What you didn’t expect was for him to pin you back down and tear your panties right off your body with a single move. You were left speechless once again, watching as your boyfriend proudly held up the torn lace before letting it fall to the ground. 

That was definitely going on your ‘Hottest Lee Seokmin Moments’ list.  

“You’re really trying to drive me insane over here,” you mumbled when you’d finally found your voice again. 

“You ask, I deliver.” Seokmin chuckled and continued to pull his shirt over his head in one smooth movement, revealing a set of mouthwatering glistening abs and a little dark happy trail that disappeared into his black shorts.

“Good.” Your eyes shifted back up to his with a new determination, your legs slightly opening to give him a nice view of your slick cunt. “Then I’m asking you to fuck me next.” 

With one hand, you reached for the waistband of his shorts, fully intent on tugging it down just enough so you could pull his dick out and guide it into your dripping hole. 

But Seokmin had other plans. 

“Now what?” you whined when his hands stopped you mid-move, wrapping themselves around your wrists just like he’d done before.

What would it take for a girl to get some dick from her boyfriend?

“Not so fast, baby. I'm gonna take care of you first.”

You shook your head in protest. “But I don’t want to wait any longer, Min. Please.”

“Do you want my dick or not, baby?” You’d never nodded faster. “Then be a good girl and spread those legs wider for me.”

That little command had you automatically spread your legs wider, a soft moan rolling off your lips as your walls clenched hard around nothing. Never in the time you’d been with Seokmin had he called you a good girl, but you found that you liked it… a lot. And you wouldn’t mind if he called you that more often from now on. 

“Oh? Does my baby like being called a good girl?” Seokmin smirked, his dark orbs burning into your own as he pushed your legs back as far as you could manage.

“Yes, fuck… so hot,” you whimpered, your legs twitching when you felt his hot breath ghost over your glossy cunt. 

“Keep being good and I’ll keep calling you that,” he murmured right before dipping his tongue between your slick folds.  

The debauched moan you released in response was enough to make Seokmin’s cock jerk uncontrollably inside his shorts. In return, he released a deep groan of appreciation, sending a wave of delicious vibrations to your core that automatically had you try to clamp your legs around your boyfriend's head. But Seokmin, who was way ahead of you, had such a tight hold on your thighs that it was nearly impossible to move. 

He used that grip to bury his entire face in your pussy, hardly giving himself room to breathe to completely drown himself in the taste of you, determined to get you to squirt your juices all over his face. 

With his skillful tongue alternating between flicking and sucking on your sensitive clit, applying just the right amount of pleasure in all the right spots to bring you to the edge, it took less than a minute before you were moaning his name like a mad woman.

Seokmin relished in the lewd sounds he pulled from you, and the way you desperately gripped at his hair to steady yourself as he devoured you, completely drunk on the taste of your pussy. His dick was painfully hard, straining against the inside of his shorts, practically begging him to relieve some of that agonizing tension. But in all honesty, chasing his own pleasure was the last thing on his mind right now. All that mattered was you, your climax, and nothing else.

It was even at the point that he'd momentarily forgotten you were doing all of this outside, in the garden, where any neighbor would be able to hear or see the obscene things he was doing to you. Not too long ago, Seokmin would have reeled at the thought of engaging in risky public sex, but now, here he was, eating you out in the garden and enjoying every bit of it, not a single fuck given. 

You found yourself in a similar position, eyes rolled to the back of your head and your body twitching and shuddering from the overwhelming sensations coursing through your nerves. It wasn’t exactly how you’d planned things to go — still no dick — but it certainly helped quench the worst of your sexual cravings. The way the coil in your stomach got tighter and tighter with every swipe of his tongue said enough. 

“F-fuck that’s gonna make me cum so fast, holy shit!” you whimpered when your boyfriend suddenly slid two of his long fingers inside you, immediately curling them up to press against that sensitive spot he knew would make you lose your mind. 

Seokmin only hummed against your pussy, his eyes catching yours as the corners of his mouth tugged up into a devilish smirk. Then, his hand was speeding up, fingers mercilessly batting against your sweet spot while his tongue lapped at your swollen clit. He watched you succumb to the pleasure with hungry eyes, your face contorted in pure ecstasy as your moans got louder and louder the closer you got. 

“You like that, baby?” your boyfriend rasped, his mouth briefly detaching from your clit. 

Your cunt clenched around his fingers in response, the only sound coming out of your mouth being a needy whine since you couldn’t find it in yourself to come up with a sane response with how scrambled your mind was.

That was met with a sharp nip at your swollen nub.

“Answer me,” Seokmin growled, apparently not satisfied with your lack of words.

You yelped loudly at the unexpected but very welcoming stinging sensation that had your nerves singing with pleasure. “Shit— yes! I fucking do!”

“That’s a good girl,” he praised with a harsh slap to your inner thigh before taking your clit back between his wet lips.

The sound of the pet name unraveled something inside you, drawing every muscle in your body taut as you were abruptly thrown over the edge. The full force of your toe-curling orgasm caused you to cry out your boyfriend’s name, your legs trapping his head between your thighs while drenching his pretty face with your arousal. 

Seokmin was perfectly content like that, groaning into your cunt like a starved man as he tried to catch every last drop of your slick with his mouth. Even when you began pushing at his head to get him away from your overstimulated pussy, it took him another twenty seconds before he finally detached himself, looking up at you with a dopey, satisfied grin and his chin dripping with your arousal. 

“You’re insatiable, Lee Seokmin,” you rasped, chest heaving as you tried to recover from the intense high you’d just experienced. 

Said man leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss right below your belly button.

“Yes,” He moved up slightly, this time placing a kiss right above it, “I am.” His lips trailed over your breast, goosebumps forming along the way, “But…” He nipped at your neck, “you…” he whispered, his lips hovering right above yours, “were so good for me,” he finished, capturing your lips into another heated kiss.

The taste of yourself on your boyfriend’s lips lit a new fire inside your belly, your skin flushing hot with a new surge of desire. It also didn’t help that his hands were back on your thighs, kneading and rubbing at them, making every one of your nerve endings come back to life under his scorching touch. 

“Min, get your dick out and fuck me,” you mumbled against his lips, determined to not take no for an answer this time. 

Seokmin was fully prepared to give into your demands this time, no longer wanting to tease you because he was feeling just as desperate and eager to be inside you. There was, however,  just one little thing he hadn’t thought of before. But now with you sprawled out before him in all your naked glory, begging for his cock, the little voice in the back of his mind decided to make an appearance. 

“Fuck.” He grimaced. “Just hold on, okay? I’ll be right back,” he said, leaning forward to kiss you softly before making a move to get up. 

You quickly grabbed onto his arm to stop him, confusion taking over your features at the sudden switch in mood.  

“Wait! Where are you going?”

“Condoms… don’t have any on me. I’ll quickly grab one from inside.”

“We don’t need them,” you blurted out, immediately biting your bottom lip when you realized what you'd said.

Seokmin’s eyes visibly widened at your bold suggestion. “But you're not on any birth control. I could actually get you pregnant.”

“Would it really be that bad?” At that, the man’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head. 

The topic of kids was nothing new between the two of you. It had come up on multiple occasions during the span of your relationship, and it was pretty clear that both you and Seokmin loved kids. The both of you always jumped at the chance of babysitting his two year-old nephew whenever Seokmin’s sister and her husband needed someone to watch him, happy to spoil him and play with him as if he was your own. 

It was no secret that you wanted a big family, and so did Seokmin, so that wasn’t the reason he was a little hesitant to fuck you without protection. He just really didn’t want you to regret anything if you did end up pregnant by the end of it, because a child was a big responsibility after all. 

But he also couldn’t deny that he wasn’t tempted by the idea of your warm walls hugging his dick without anything in the way, and being able to empty his load inside your greedy, slick-covered hole like he’d always wanted to do. 

It was hard not to give in to that, especially when you were looking at him with those big, seductive eyes of yours.

“Baby, I’m serious.”

“So am I,” you shot back, a mix of determination and lust adorning your face as you challenged your boyfriend. 

Seokmin frowned, running a hand through his damp hair. “We should think about this…”

“I already did, and I want this. I wanna feel you… all of you… inside me.” You looked up at him with the biggest puppy eyes you could muster. 

“Fuck, you’re not making it easy for me,” your boyfriend sighed, feeling completely torn between doing the responsible thing and giving in to his carnal desires. 

“Then stop thinking and just fill me with cum.”

Seokmin gulped, letting out a shaky breath as he felt himself slowly start to lose the battle.

“Shit. Are you absolutely sure about this? Is this really what you want, baby?” he asked, placing his hands on either side of the bench to cage you in.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, leaning up to touch your nose to his. “If you're asking me if I want you to fuck a baby in me then yes, I totally want that,” you breathed, a small smile gracing your face.

Seokmin’s dick twitched in his shorts at your declaration, unlocking a new level of desire that he didn’t know existed. His body was full-on buzzing, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he felt the gears in his mind switch to a whole different setting. 

You noticed the change in your boyfriend the moment the words had left your lips, the uncertain expression that had been on his face just now making way for a much more ominous expression, one you didn’t quite recognize. 

“Min?” 

“Bend over.” 

“O-okay.” The slight edge to his tone had you scrambling to turn around for him, nearly causing you to fall off the bench in the process as your legs got tangled up in your dress. You planned to rip the clothing piece off your body to make your life easier, but the sudden hand pinning your wrist to your back made that impossible.

“Dress stays on,” your boyfriend’s low voice sounded from behind you as you felt him flip up the material to reveal the supple skin of your ass.

You were about to protest, but the harsh slap to your behind that followed made you think twice about opening your mouth. The impact of his hand connecting with your tender skin pulled a soft whine from you, leaving you with a pleasant stinging sensation that sent a hot streak of arousal right down to your pussy. 

There was barely any time to recover from the first slap before he delivered a second one, this one even more intense and brutal than the last one, forcing you to fight down a scream as you jolted forward, barely able to keep your balance since you only had one hand available to steady yourself. 

Your boyfriend was no stranger to delivering the occasional slap to your ass, but it had always been in a loving kind of way and never like this… so rough and thrilling. So if this kind of spanking was your boyfriend’s reaction to seeing you bent over in your half-discarded dress, then you had no problem keeping it on.

“Such a good girl for me,” Seokmin groaned, his cock twitching once again as he watched your ass jiggle for a third time when his hand reconnected with your delicate flesh. You could only moan in response as you felt yourself get wetter with every slap, hand gripping onto the bench for dear life while you let your boyfriend have his way with you. 

Only after the tenth slap or so, when Seokmin noticed your legs were close to giving out on you, he released the wrist he was holding and allowed you to take a breather while he rushed to shove his shorts and underwear down his legs, finally freeing the raging boner he’d been neglecting for the past twenty minutes.

The man didn’t waste any time as he grabbed onto your waist with one hand, lining up his engorged tip with your dripping cunt with the other. 

A shudder ripped through him when he pushed forward, greedy eyes fixed on his cock disappearing between your ass cheeks, slowly getting enveloped by your tight walls as they made room for him. 

It was unlike any feeling Seokmin had ever experienced. Although he was barely halfway inside, he was sure he wasn’t going to last as long as he usually would have. Without the usual barrier in the way, he was able to feel it all, every little sensation — the warmth radiating off your walls as he slid in further, your creamy slick drenching his cock from head to base — it took everything in him to stop himself from bursting as he imagined how good you’d look with your ripe cunt stuffed full of his seed. 

Seokmin’s pupils were fully blown by the time your ass connected with his pelvis, his jaw clenched and the grip on your waist bordering on bruising as he momentarily stilled to let you both get used to the new feeling. 

You weren’t doing much better, trying to deal with the blissful ache whirling in your stomach as you tried to accommodate the familiar stretch. Only this time, you were able to actually feel the bulging veins forking along his length as they throbbed against your inner walls in the most intoxicating way. 

“Shit, Min,” you moaned, tightening your grip on the bench, “Just fuck me already. Feels so damn good like this.”

At your plea, Seokmin pulled his hips back slightly, slowly dragging his throbbing tip along your sensitive walls before abruptly burying his entire girth back inside your warm cunt with a loud groan.

“Yeah? Like that?”

“Yes… harder,” you whined, impatiently wiggling your ass in search of more of that delicious friction. 

“Fucking gladly,” he muttered, moving one of his hands to your shoulder before repeating the motion again, only this time with a lot more force and speed, which earned him a series of salacious moans that went straight down to his pulsing cock.  

It didn't take long for Seokmin to completely lose every bit of sanity he possessed as he vigorously drove his hips into your ass, your pussy squelching loudly every time his cock slammed back inside your slippery hole. 

He’d never felt like this before… fully overtaken by this primal need to breed you like the good girl you were, completely set on ruining you with his cock and stuffing load after load of cum inside your hot cunt until you couldn’t fit anymore. 

The regular Seokmin, aka the sweet man who made you breakfast every day and made sure you had absolutely everything you could wish for, would have been a messy blushing puddle with all these nasty thoughts running through his mind. But this Seokmin, the pussy drunk, sex-crazed man who was fucking you as if his life depended on it, only felt himself get more riled up with every new lewd thought that entered his mind, not feeling bashful in the slightest. 

You honestly didn’t know where the hell this Seokmin had come from, but you hoped that this wouldn’t be the last of him. His rough thrusts had you feeling like a complete wreck in the best sense of the word, causing you to release an obscene number of sounds you didn’t even know you could make. It was no doubt the best dicking your boyfriend had ever given you, but too much for your body to keep up — you discovered that when your legs suddenly decided to give out on you mid-thrust. 

Fortunately, your boyfriend was prepared and caught you just in time, firmly wrapping one of his beefy arms around your tits to press you against his bare chest, while his free hand clamped around your neck, forcing you to tilt your head up to the clear blue sky as he continued to pound into your sopping cunt. 

“Fuck, gonna fill this pussy,” Seokmin growled into your ear, his breath hot against the side of your face. “Gonna fill it with my cum, fucking show the world you’re mine… get your pretty belly round with my baby,” he continued, never slowing down his unrelenting pace.

“God, yes!” you moaned, eyes once again rolling to the back of your head as your walls fluttered in response to the filth rolling off your boyfriend’s tongue. 

“Dirty girl. You like the thought of me fucking a baby into you?”

”Y-yes, fuck… want it, want your baby!” 

You didn’t think it was possible but Seokmin’s hips sped up even more after you’d said that, making you cry out loud as you clung onto his forearm to center yourself.

“Gonna fill you up like you deserve, stuff you full till you can’t walk. This pussy is fucking mine… mine to claim.” Seokmin had fully lost himself at this point, spewing all the filth he could think of, completely and utterly enthralled by your sweet raw cunt sucking him in so deliciously.

“Oh god, Min, need you to cum in me,” you rasped, feeling the coil in your stomach start to wind and tighten as your boyfriend continuously battered against your sweet spot. 

“So fucking desperate. Such a good girl.” That was the moment Seokmin released your throat and lowered his hand to attach his fingers to your clit, rubbing sloppy figure eights into it while his dick continued to stretch you out.

“Faster… faster,” you urged, feeling your body tense at the sudden surge of pleasure shooting through you. 

Seokmin listened to your pleas and sped up his fingers.

“Oh, fuck, right there,” you whined, feeling like you couldn’t hold it anymore. “Gonna cum… gonna cum!”

White briefly flashed before your eyes as you came with a choked gargle of your boyfriend’s name, your cunt clenching around his cock as your body shook violently from the overwhelming sensations. 

Seokmin didn’t stop at that, feeling like he was seconds away from reaching his own high. With your fluttering cunt continuing to hold his dick in a chokehold, and you begging for his cum in his ear, it didn’t take him long to get there. 

With one last well-timed thrust, Seokmin buried himself all the way inside you, letting his own orgasm wash over him as he felt the first spurts of cum coat your inner walls. Both of you groaned in delight at the unfamiliar but arousing feeling of Seokmin’s cum filling you up for the first time. 

Heat bloomed inside you as your boyfriend continued to spill inside you, holding tightly onto you as he rode out the remainder of his climax. 

“Fuck, Min, so much cum,” you whimpered when you felt his seed begin to drip out of your swollen cunt and down your thighs. That’s how much there was. It felt like there was no end to it. 

“Pussy feels so fucking good, can’t stop cumming,” he panted against your neck, moving his hands to rest on the smooth skin of your stomach.

You smirked, tightening your walls momentarily to pull a little whine from your boyfriend.

“Well, let’s say that I’m not complaining.”

Only when Seokmin’s cock had fully softened and there really was no more cum to give, he reluctantly pulled out of you, not being able to stop himself from gawking at the big globs of cum dripping out of your pussy with his cock no longer holding it in. 

“Min?”

”Huh?” 

Despite your extremely wobbly legs, you managed to turn around and threw yourself at the man in front of you, wrapping your arms around his neck as you stared into his eyes with a cheeky smile on your face. 

“I love you, you know that? You’re a fucking freak!” 

Seokmin’s cheeks began to flush at your exclamation, his eyes quickly averting yours in an attempt to escape your intense gaze. 

“Oh…. uh, that? Well…” he stammered, one of hands coming up to rub at his neck.

“Are you seriously acting all shy on me now when you just fucked my brains out?” You giggled, shaking your head in disbelief. 

“Well, when you put it like that…” He chuckled, a dopey grin on his face.

“Promise me you’re gonna show this side of you more often.”

Seokmin raised his brows in surprise. “You sure? It wasn’t too much?”

“Fuck no.” You shook your head. “It was definitely some of the best dick you’ve given me.”

“I guess I have no choice then, do I?” He smiled widely.

“Nope. Besides,” You leaned in to kiss him softly before whispering seductively, “if you wanna give me a baby, we better do that many more times, just to be sure.”

“You’re absolutely right.” Then your boyfriend scooped you up without another word, your surprised shriek echoing through the garden as he hurried to rush you inside the house, eager to do it all over again.

© All rights reserved — ourdawnishotterthanourday // Please do not repost or edit any of my works without my permission!! If you see any of my works outside of this Tumblr, pls report it to me asap. Thank you in advance!

HOPE YOU ALL ENJOYED THIS LITTLE SEOK SMUT HEHE! Would be amazing to hear your thoughts on this one 😋 and PLEASE look forward to the next one 👀 I got some good ideas planned for y'all!

☀ if you want to be added to my PERMANENT tag list for upcoming works (MAINLY NSFW, SO 18+), leave a comment below or send me an ask, but be sure to mention PERMANENT TAG LIST if you choose to send an ask! If you wish to be removed, also send me an ask!

⚠️ Please note that this is NOT the same tag list as the SEVENTEEN World one!

[chaotic-mystery]

Call It What You Want

pairing: Joel Miller Jackson era x f!reader

summary: Who knew a storm would push you and Joel exactly where you wanted to be but never thought you’d end up?

content warnings: shocker shocker, Mads wrote fluff for once! There’s a slight mention of arson and your house burning down but ya know, the rest of it is fluff. Nicknames, implied age gap but it’s not specified, storms. NO USE OF Y/N.

authors note: this is almost two months late for the lovely @janaispunk 1500 kisses challenge! I couldn’t find my moodboard unfortunately (it was beautiful) so I had to improvise. I got Joel + cheek kiss. It’s short and sweet 🖤 Jana ilysm. || word count: 1.1k || thank u always to @pedgito for beta reading & @wannab-urs for hyping me up to post despite how far I got derailed from life. Ily ily ily.

Two years. It’s been two years living with Joel Miller in Jackson. It wasn’t what you expected, given the week you moved into the smaller house just up the hill, someone decided to burn it down to get you to leave. It wasn’t really the warm welcome like you were promised. Joel was tasked with housing you until they could rebuild or find you somewhere else to shack up. Given he was Tommy’s brother and Tommy was with Maria, no one dared to even mess with anyone close to the Millers.

It took Joel a mere three months to decide he liked keeping you around, it wasn’t so quiet in the house anymore, and he had someone to share his dinner with because he could never figure out after all these years how to cook for one person. Either way, you both liked each other’s company and you didn’t want to live anywhere else. However, there was a mutual agreement between you two of house rules.

Keep up after yourself, do your work and do as you’re told, and no overnight guests.

Even if you didn’t talk about it, the third rule just kind of happened. It was never your house to get comfortable in and over the years you slowly started to feel more relaxed, but it was never going to be yours.

A nasty storm was rolling in during the middle of the night and knowing storms freak you out, especially living in a house surrounded by trees as tall as buildings, you laid in bed staring at the ceiling, contemplating going into Joel’s room to wake him up. You just wanted to be held again, despite you starting to catch feelings for him. You knew the first night you climbed in his bed for relief of knowing you weren’t alone in the house, this was going to fuck you up. You just wanted to feel someone else there with you, anyone. It just so happened to be Joel who was half asleep but more than willing to let you sleep in his bed as long as you didn’t try anything with him.

With each sunrise, you’d wake up in his arms and his head nuzzled into your neck from behind. Had Joel known what was happening or how you’d wake up tangled in each other, he’d make a big deal about it and not let you come in during the middle of the night anymore. Before he’d open his eyes you’d crawl out of his room to let him think you left hours ago.

A ginormous crack of lightning lights up your bedroom and follows with booms of thunder loud enough to rattle the windows and causes you to jolt up in your bed.

You grab your blanket and run into Joel’s room, skipping the knocking that normally wakes him up. He jumps awake, fear coursing his veins as he looks around the dark room and seeing you standing there from the small flashes of lightning.

“What’s the matter?!” He asks and swings his legs over the side of the bed closest to you.

“There’s a storm and-”

“C’mon, get in here.” He lays back down and lifts the covers up, not aware you had your blanket.

Still, you jump in under them and lay your blanket over the top. He knew you were scared of storms, it was all he needed to know as to why you busted in the way you did. With no second thought, Joel’s arms wrap around your body, pulling you against his chest to console you.

“It’s okay, you’re okay. I’ve gotcha.” He murmurs tiredly as he rubs your back gently to soothe you.

His warm palms smooth over your t-shirt covering your shoulder, almost sucking all the anxiety right out of your body.

“I’ll forgive you for barging in here like that, even if you did scare the shit outta me.” His chin lays right on top of your head, tucking you in closer than you’ve ever been to him. Did he always smell this good and you’re just now realizing?

“I’m sorry, yeah I probably should’ve knocked. I’m sorry.” You try to cover your face in embarrassment but he catches your movements and tugs your arm down, tightening his grip on you as he rocks back and forth trying to get you to laugh.

“No no no, cut it out. I’m just messin with you. C’mon, get some sleep. Long day tomorrow.”

You couldn’t stop staring at the skin on his neck and thinking about how badly you wanted to kiss him. Cuddling with him never went further than what it was because if it did, you’d have to talk about what you two were and that would completely ruin everything.

“But I’m not tired now.”

“Too bad, if you just stop yappin’ you’ll get tired.”

“But-“

His hand comes up gently to your face and squeezes your cheeks together to keep you from finishing your thought. Your adrenaline was pumping as you could feel his face get closer to yours and his breath tickling your skin. A ghost of a kiss was pressed to your cheek, followed by him saying goodnight once more.

Your entire body was on vibrate, hands cemented to your torso where they’ve been since you climbed into his bed. Joel’s hand never left your face as he started to drift off to sleep but his grip loosened.

“Joel.” you whisper

No answer. You shuffle under him and he stirs softly.

“Joel.”

“What's the matter, kid?”

“Why’d you kiss me?”

Bracing yourself for him to kick you out for talking too much, you hold out for an answer and to your surprise, he answers.

“Because I wanted to.” He grumbles and blinks open his eyes, the thunder still rumbling outside.

Biting your lip trying to decide if you should keep going, to give into your temptations and tell him what you’re thinking about.

“What if I want you to kiss me…like…for real? Would you?” You shuffle around as he sits up enough to prop his arm up and hold his head steady in your direction.

“Why would you want that?”

You didn’t know how to answer. Maybe it was the mixed signals you were getting, the looks you’d catch from Joel every time he saw you talking to a guy, or maybe you just really wanted him to kiss you. It had been forever for you too, since someone glittered your skin with delicate kisses and touches from angels and every day that passed, it grew stronger and twined itself with whatever this was with Joel.

“If you’re going to kiss me, I’d rather have a proper one.” You whisper and the flash of lightning lights Joel’s face, exposing the stupid smirk on his face.

What happened that night was going to stay between you two, even if it meant complicating everything.

Thank u for reading! 🖤

[physalian]

“How do I know if my story needs work or if I’m just being hard on myself?”

As I sit here accepting the fact that at 70k words into Eternal Night’s sequel while waiting for my editor for Eternal Night itself, that I have made an error in my plot.

Disclaimer: This is not universal and the writing experience is incredibly diverse. Figuring this out also takes some time and building up your self-confidence as an author so you can learn to separate “this is awful (when it’s not)” and “this is ok (but it can be better)” and “this isn’t working (but it is salvageable).”

—

When I wrote my first novel (unpublished, sadly), years ago, I would receive feedback all over the chapters and physically have to open other windows to block off parts of the screen on my laptop to slow-drip the feedback because I couldn’t handle constructive criticism all at once. I had my betas color-code their commentary so I could see before I read any of it that it wasn’t all negative. It took me thrice as long as it does today to get through a beta’s feedback because I got so nervous and anxious about what they would say.

The main thing I learned was this: They’re usually right, when it’s not just being mean (and even then, it’s rarely flat out mean), and that whatever criticisms they have of my characters and plot choices is not criticism of myself.

It did take time.

But now I can get feedback from betas and even when I hear “I’d DNF this shit right now unless you delete this,” I take a step back, examine if this one little detail is really that important, and fix it. No emotional turmoil and panic attack needed. I can also hear “I didn’t like it” without heartbreak. Can’t please everyone.

The only time I freak out is when I'm told "this won't need massive edits" followed up by, in the manuscript, "I'd DNF this shit right now". Which happened. And did not, in fact, require a massive rewrite to fix.

So.

What might be some issues with your story and why it “isn’t working”.

1. Your protagonist is not active enough in the story

You’ve picked your protagonist, but it’s every other character that has more to do, more to say, more choices to make, and they’re just along for the ride, yet you are now anchored to this character’s story because they’re the protagonist. You can either swap focus characters, or rework your story to give them more agency. Figure out why this character, above any other, is your hero.

2. Your pacing is too slow

Even if you have a “lazy river” style story where the vibes and marinating in the world is more important than a breakneck plot, slow pacing isn’t just “how fast the story moves” it’s “how clearly is the story told,” meaning if you divert the story to a side quest, or spend too long on something that sure is fluffy or romantic or funny, but it adds nothing to the characters because it’s redundant, doesn’t advance the plot, doesn’t give us more about the world that actually matters to the themes, then you may have lost focus of the story and should consider deleting it, or editing important elements into the scenes so they can pull double-duty and serve a more active purpose.

3. You’ve lost the main argument of your narrative

Sometimes even the best of outlines and the clearest plans derail. Characters don’t cooperate and while we see where it goes, we end up getting hung up on how this one really cool scene or argument or one-liner just has to be in the story, without realizing that doing so sacrifices what you set out to accomplish. Personally I think sticking to your outline with biblical determination doesn’t allow for new ideas during the writing process, but if you find yourself down the line of “how did we get here, this isn’t what I wanted” you can always save the scenes in another document to reuse later, in this WIP or another in the future.

4. You’re spending too long on one element

Even if the thing started out really cool, whether it’s a rich fantasy pit stop for your characters or a conversation two characters must have, sometimes scenes and ideas extend long past their prime. You might have characters stuck in one location for 2 or 3 chapters longer than necessary trying to make it perfect or stuff in all these details or make it overcomplicated, when the rest of the story sits impatiently on the sidelines for them to move on. Figure out the most important reasons for this element to exist, take a step back, and whittle away until the fat is cut.

5. You’ve given a side character too much screentime

New characters are fun and exciting! But they can take over the story when they’re not meant to, robbing agency from your core characters to leave them sitting with nothing to do while the new guy handles everything. You might end up having to drag your core characters along behind them, tossing them lines of dialogue and side tasks to do because you ran out of plot to delegate with one character hogging it all (which is the issue I ran into with the above mentioned WIP). Not talking about a new villain or a new love interest, I mean a supporting character who is supposed to support the main characters.

—

As for figuring out the difference between “this is awful and I’m a bad writer” and “this element isn’t working” try pretending the book was written by somebody else and you’re giving them constructive criticism.

If you can come up with a reason for why it’s not working that doesn’t insult the writer, it’s probably the latter. As in, “This element isn’t working… because it’s gone on too long and the conversation has become cyclical and tiring.” Not “this element isn’t working because it’s bad.”

Why is it bad?

“This conversation is awkward because…. There’s not enough movement between characters and the dialogue is really stiff.”

“This fight scene is bad because….I don’t have enough dynamic action, enough juicy verbs, or full use of the stage I’ve set.”

“This romantic scene is bad because…. It’s taking place at the wrong time in the story. I want to keep it, but this character isn’t ready for it yet, and the vibe is all wrong now because they’re out-of-character.”

“This argument is bad because…. It didn’t have proper build-up and the sudden shouting match is not reflective of their characters. They’re too angry, and it got out of hand quickly. Or I’m not conveying the root of their aggression.”

—

There aren’t very many bad ideas, just bad execution. “Only rational people can think they’re crazy. Crazy people think they’re sane,” applies to writing, too.

I just read a fanfic recently where, for every fight scene, I could tell action was not the writer’s strong suit. They leaned really heavily on a crutch of specific injuries for their characters, the same unusual spot getting hit over and over again, and fights that dragged on for too long being unintentionally stagnant. The rest of the fic was great, though, and while the fights weren’t the best, I understood that the author was trying, and I kept reading for the good stuff. One day they will be better.

In my experience beta reading, it’s the cocky authors who send me an unedited manuscript and tell me to be kind (because they can’t take criticism), that they know it’s perfect they just want an outside opinion (they don’t want the truth, they want what will make them feel good), that they know it’s going to make them a lot of money and everyone will love it (they haven’t dedicated proper time and effort into researching marketing, target audiences, or current trends)—these are the truly bad authors. Not just bad at writing, but bad at taking feedback, are bullies when you point out flaws in their story, and cheap, too.

The best story I have received to date was where the author didn’t preempt with a self-deprecating deluge of “it’s probably terrible you know but here it is anyway” or “this is perfect and I’m super confident you’re going to love it”.

It was something like, “This is my first book and I know it has flaws and I’m nervous but I had a lot of fun doing it”.

And yeah, it needed work, but the bones of something great were there. So give yourself some credit, yeah?

[lookforsomeoneelse]

mwehehehehe

ugggghhhhh SUMMER’S ALMOST OVER HOOOOOWWWWWWW

anyway i’m done procrastinating so like. uh. idk. wrote this mostly for me but if yall like it me can do part 2 or something

so you know how normally self aware au’s go something like this:

-reader gets game

-reader plays game

-characters think that reader is god

-player gets isekaied into game

-plot

or something?

well uh

imagine you aren’t the player.

SAHSRAU, but you watch your friend play the game (oh, did i mention you’re an eldritch horror? (not that you know it))

-you don’t exactly remember the date, but it roughly started when your friend started to freak out over Hoyoverse’s newest release: Honkai: Star Rail. they freaked out over the leaks, the beta, everything related to it.

-you, being the busy individual that you were, decided not to partake in these events, as you had your own responsibilities and interests. you couldn’t devote more of your precious time, unfortunately.

-out of consideration for your friend, however, you decided to ask them what the game was all about.

-your questioning starts a rant that lasts a little longer than you would like it to, where you get a brief summary of Honkai Impact 3rd before they tell you what they know about Star Rail.

-about a year has passed since that conversation, and a lot happened.

-most relevant to the story here, your friend has been diligent in their gameplay of… what was the game called, again? …ah- yes, Honkai: Star Rail!

-they’ve told you about the fun they’ve had and the challenges they’ve conquered; their greatest achievement being the completion of MoC 11, you think they called it?

-anyway, you’ve just noticed that you’ve been pinged a bunch by… your friend? kind of weird, but you open up discord and see what’s causing all the commotion.

-you find out that it has, in fact, been one year since the release of Honkai: Star Rail, and your friend wants to show you all the progress they’ve made over the year.

-they tell you to hop on a call so that they can share their screen. not long after the message is sent, you get a prompt and a little ring with your friend’s username next to it. it’s a call.

-eh, whatever. you’ve got time to kill, so you accept the call.

-they’re pleased to see your presence- they share their screen. and so they begin rambling about relics and 50/50s and their builds for their characters. the one they have on display currently is a woman named Ruan Mei.

-you barely have a grasp of what they’re talking about, so you do the equivalent of nodding your head and simply respond “mhmm” to everything they say.

-meanwhile, on the other end, Ruan Mei… to put it in very very very light terms-

-she is not in a good mood. -she’s normally apathetic even with her back turned to one of the most dangerous entities in the universe: an emanator of propagation, and even if it was a replica. it was dangerous. but to her, it didn’t feel like it was.

-that is not at all the case now.

-she feels an overwhelming presence all around her. she struggles to breathe or even blink, in terror of what the being that’s gazing upon her would do.

-her mind discards her research, her purpose- all in favor of thinking of a way to get this gaze off of her, because she doesn’t want it. she originally desired to become an aeon. she doesn’t want to anymore.

-no more.

-no more.

-she can hear whispers weaving themselves into her brain, clawing into her skull and scarring her being.

-and to top it all off, she can feel all of these sensations, akin to a flickering lightbulb ages old, going dark after the long years of shining in the darkness.

-meanwhile, on your end, you’re alt-tabbing to check on other sites, all while listening to your friend explain the game’s lore as best they can.

-what a day it is.

_________________________________________

A/N: ohhhh my goddddddd this toookkkk wwwwaaaaayyyyy tttttoooooo long because life is a bastard

anyway the TL;DR of the au is that you watch your friend play HSR, and while their account isn’t self aware on its own, it comes to life when you watch them. unfortunately, they see you as an eldritch god- H.P. Lovecraft type, and so they start a cult that revolves around you so that you don’t put them in a life of eternal suffering. which basically means that they cause the game to crash… occasionally.

why did i write this? because i’m a bastard, i guess. or maybe it’s because i spend too much time on the internet.

maybe it’s both. who knows?

you wanna use the idea? well, i don’t get paid for this and you probably don’t either. good luck with that.

anyways, this shitass is off to do god knows what yet again!

[sunnylighter]

I read your ninjago series x movie fic (GiGAU) and I really love it, just recently got back to ninjago and have been searching through ao3 for good fics. Your fic was really good–no–great! I like how you wrote it.

I'm also here to inform you that you've been in a hiatus for a year.

Anyways, got any good ninjago series x movie fics you can recommend? Or any great fics in particular? (Mostly the series x movie fic) I'm pretty desperate ;u;

Yeah, and it will probably be a while yet before I get back to it. I'm burned out on Ninjago right now, but I'll get back to it eventually. It helps I haven't watched a good few of the more recent seasons, so there will be new stuff for me to sink my teeth into when I get back to it.

As for fic Recommendations:

My Dad is Bad but Still Family, by KayHau. This was written by my beta reader, and was a big chunk of what inspired me to write my fics. It's more of a merging of the movie and series, but it is very good. Kay Hau also wrote a series of gift-fics for the Grass is Greener which are canon to the AU, so check her out. Basically, in a mash-up of movie and show canon, what would happen if Lloyd had been raised by his dad, only to find he had a great destiny to fulfill.

Summoning Gone Wrong, by Doctor_Who_Fan85 is a funny take on what would have happened if in season 8 of the show, Harumi summoned Movie Garmadon instead of the undead one from the show. I beta-read this one, and it was fun to do.

That's Ninja Swag (It's Nothing New) by Fabro-de-omres (Fabro). It's a reincarnation fic. A 'What if the Movie Ninja are the reincarnations of the Show Ninja in the far future and start regaining their past memories' fic. I highly recommend it for the feels.

Of course, no series-movie crossover fic is complete without Same People, But Not Really, by @KittyDemon9000. What if Kai got sent to the Movie-verse, and how long would it take him to adopt all the Movie Ninja? It's a really great one, and I can't recommend it enough.

Enter the Ninjaverse by BionicStars. I didn't finish this one, but it's about the return of the Time Twins and Lloyd chasing them across the multi-verse to stop them.

Switched! also by Doctor_Who_Fan85. Another Show Lloyd and Movie Lloyd switcharoo. Poor boys.

Tantamount by Bamboosauce. Using the Tornado of Creation to stop the Oni sends the Show Ninja rocketing into the Movie-verse. There's not much to it, but I enjoy seeing the Movie Ninja freak out about it.

It's Me (Version 2-point-0) by lloydskywalkers. Okay, all the previous ones are on AO3, but this one is on Fanfiction.Net. It is honestly one of my favorites, and what first got me thinking about crossing over the show and the movie in any meaningful way. It's a oneshot that was written before March of the Oni came out, and has the author's imagining of how the oni could be. When one of the Oni come after Show Lloyd and drag him through the multi-verse, he ends up landing on his movie counterpart, and the two work together to avoid their murderous Oni Aunt.

That's all the ones I can find in my Bookmarks list on AO3 and FF. More may have come out since I burned out on Ninjago, so keep your eyes open. I hope you enjoy my recommendations.

[tj-dragonblade]

[Fic] Use Your Words

Fandom: The Sandman Pairing: Dreamling (Hob x Morpheus) Rated: T Word Count: ~2500 Warnings: Mistletoe Notes: My first foray into this fandom. Be gentle; I may not have them quite right. It's been four years since last I wrote anything and I'm a bit rusty.  Many thanks to @virgo-dream for the beta!

Summary: Hob finds mistletoe hung in the bar. Dream is. Insistent. That they adhere to tradition.

On AO3

~~~***~~~ "Now where did that come from?"

'That' was a bright sprig of dark green leaves and waxy white berries, hanging innocently from a random low beam near the end of the bar, and Hob was very sure that he hadn't hung it there. Mistletoe was all well and good among friends and holiday parties and such, but putting it up in the pub where random strangers might happen beneath it in the middle of the afternoon, not so much. Bit of unneeded potential for harassment and Hob wasn't keen to invite that sort of trouble. He'd have to take it down post-haste and make sure his staff knew not to re-hang it.

Beside him, Dream blinked up at the little plant. "Mistletoe," he pronounced, in precisely the overly-casual tone of discovery one might use to imply one had just noticed something one had in fact already been aware of. "We. Would seem to be standing beneath it."

Hob frowned and peered up at the little sprig, which they were indeed now directly under when he was quite certain they hadn't been a moment ago. "…So we are." Which. Huh.

And didn't that set his nerves afire, just a little bit.

"We are meant to share a kiss, then, I believe?" Dream was staring at him now, intent and direct, the bare tilt of a question in his eyebrows.

And that set Hob's pulse racing, quite definitely, no 'little bit' about it.

"You know the tradition, then?" he hedged, mouth gone suddenly dry.

Dream favored him with a look that could have withered the greenery above them, and yes, right. Prince of Stories, entirety-of-the-collective-unconscious, all that. Holiday traditions surely fell within that purview.

Hob swallowed, nerves still singing a gloriously freaked-out tune over the drumbeat of his racing heart. Surely Dream was not expecting—

Dream was still looking at him, expectantly.

And it's not like Hob had any objections, of course! Not like he hadn't thought about the possibility of kissing Dream dozens of times, hundreds even—thousands perhaps, who was counting—but he'd never expected that Dream would suggest it first, under any circumstances, that it would ever be anything Dream could possibly want.

Was he reading things right?

He didn't think he was reading them wrong, but...well. Sure it'd been a hundred and thirty-odd years and there was certainly an openness to Dream these days that hadn't been there then, but "You DARE??" still haunted Hob on many levels and he'd rather not earn himself an encore. Especially not over a frivolous holiday tradition.

He cleared his throat a little awkwardly, aware of the heat in his face. "Okay but don't feel like you have to; there's no obligation." He glanced away, fiddled self-consciously with his earlobe. "I mean, it's just a silly tradition, not as if there's mistletoe police lurking about…"

Hob's dismissive rambling trailed off unconvincingly and Dream tilted his head a little, eyes narrowing the slightest bit.

"I would honor this tradition, Hob. Unless. Are you opposed?"

"Oh no! Not opposed, no." God, no, couldn't have him thinking that. "In that case then, ah, let me just—okay—" He leaned over and brushed a quick peck against the corner of Dream's mouth, quick enough to avoid the temptation of more, but not quick enough to avoid feeling the cool smoothness of Dream's skin beneath his lips in a way that would surely keep him awake long hours tonight.

Desperately trying to school his expression to 'normal' versus 'hopelessly besotted and dying to do that properly except I'm afraid of driving you off for another hundred years', Hob dared a glance at Dream's face. Which was…impassive as ever, with a hint of not-what-I-expected lurking in the downward tick of his mouth.

Wrangling his nerves, Hob flashed a grin and glanced up. "Can't forget to pick a berry, now, else people'll be stuck kissing under this forever—" What a completely inane thing to say, but he couldn't seem to quite get a handle on his tongue. At least none of the bar patrons were paying them any mind; they may as well have been alone for the lack of attention they were drawing.

The berry vanished from his grasp as soon as he'd plucked it, dissipated into nothingness, but that was to be expected, perfectly normal, right? He glanced at Dream to confirm and instead found himself watching transfixed as Dream reached up, pale, slender fingers caressing a waxy white berry of nearly the same shade, and Hob's fool mouth just kept running. "We don't both have to pick one, it's only, y'know, one berry one kiss—"

"I am aware." Dream cut him off and then, quite deliberately, pulled the little berry free of its stem. "But, as I wish to receive another kiss…" He was staring at Hob expectantly again.

Oh.

Still off-kilter, still not sure quite how this was actually happening but also still possessed of enough faculties to not question his good fortune just yet, Hob leaned in and pressed his lips softly to Dream's, full-on this time, lingering just a little. Dream tilted into it, moved his own lips in complement—and oh. Again. Hob shivered, a thrill of delight running effervescent down his spine, goosebumps blooming all along his arms.

He pulled back before he could let himself get lost in it, because getting lost in it would be so easy yet terribly unwise.

"Dream?" Now apparently was the moment to question, his mouth decided, to suss out what his (very dear) friend intended because surely, surely this couldn't be as straightforward as it was trying to appear?

But Dream was regarding him with something approaching consternation, mouth flat and eyes disbelieving; he reached up to pluck another berry, swift and precise, flicking it away to dissolve into thin air as he spoke. "Hob Gadling." He plucked another, and another, punctuating his next words sharply. "I would—" pluck "—have you—" pluck "—kiss me—" pluck "—properly."

Okay. However they'd gotten here, that was clear enough, and Hob wasn't waiting to be told again.

Dream met him halfway this time, fingertips lighting on his face to guide him properly-as-requested to Dream's mouth and Hob just went with it, tossed aside dozens of decades of caution and restraint and finally kissed Dream like he meant it. Dream made a tiny little sound, high and soft like a wish at long last granted and that was it. Hob threw his arms around Dream's skinny frame and Dream's hands tangled eagerly into his hair and they were kissing, kissing, kissing like they couldn't get enough and never mind the public setting.

Hob couldn't hear whether or not they were getting catcalls or wolf whistles, not over the thunder of his own pulse in his ears, and he couldn't have cared anyway because Dream was clinging to the curve of his skull, was kissing like he meant to devour him and Hob was one hundred percent down for it. He pressed himself flush against Dream, arms wrapped tight around him, feasting on Dream's ravenous intensity as the kissing went on and on.

Dream pushed forward and Hob followed his prompting, let Dream guide him one step back, two, and then they fetched up against the bar, the edge of the counter digging into Hob's spine. "Hob," Dream murmured, right against his lips, and Hob shivered at the way his name sounded in that voice at this moment. Dream was kissing down the line of his jaw now and Hob sighed, tilted his head up to offer his throat as well.

"God, is this really happening?" Running his mouth was going to be a continuing theme, apparently. "D'you have any idea how long I've dreamed about you, like this?"

Dream tucked his face into the arch of Hob's neck, breath soft against the skin there before he kissed, grazed it with sharp teeth. "Have you any idea, how long I have wished to do such things with you?"

"I—wait, no. Really?" Hob pulled back to look at him, but was caught instead by the silence of the pub around them. Was everyone staring; had they made that much of a scene?

No, as it turned out, because when Hob actually looked, he found that all the patrons had vanished and the pub itself was sort of washed over like watercolor, barely-there around the edges, an unfinished painting. Only the two of them and the beam hanging the mistletoe above them were in focus and fully rendered.

"Oh no, this is only—I'm dreaming, aren't I." He kissed Dream again anyway, absolutely crestfallen, remembering vanishing mistletoe berries and other unheeded anomalies that suddenly made sense. "You aren't even—this isn't real, is it, just my imagination. Again."

"I have told you, Hob, the Dreaming is as 'real' as the waking world."

"To you, I'm sure," Hob lamented, kissing him mournfully, speaking against his mouth, drawing the words across his cheek. "But are you actually here? Am I even going to remember this when I wake up?"

Dream paused at that, stepped back—stepped out of Hob's arms—and Hob ached at the sudden loss. Then, with an expression somehow equal parts annoyance, arousal, and apology, Dream reached up and pulled down the entire mistletoe sprig from overhead, made a quick horizontal gesture with his other hand. "This dream is over."

Hob startled awake, sprawled into the corner of his couch, disoriented for half a second at the abrupt change and scrambling madly to sit upright, to hold onto the threads of the dream. Because Dream had been in it, had all but demanded his kisses—and if he'd really been there—

His head jerked up toward a sudden shifting of displaced air across the room. Dream stepped into existence in a soft swirl of sand and stalked toward him, dropping the mistletoe sprig on the coffee table, swinging himself down to straddle Hob's lap with his knees snug against either hip. He pushed Hob back into the couch, looming over him in a way that had every bit of Hob paying very rapt attention.

Dream's hands smoothed over Hob's shoulders, as if to gentle a high-strung animal; ironic, that was, when Dream himself was held taut as a bowstring, so tense he was trembling with it.

Hob barely managed an almost-steady tone. "Not just a dream, then?"

Dream's eyes were boring into his with intensity, gone dark and starry. "Be assured, Hob. I would have this in the Waking as well as in the Dreaming. I would not have you…doubt, my affections—"

"Oh good," Hob croaked, and then both hands were buried in Dream's hair, mouth open and angling for Dream's, and Dream collapsed against him, melted into the kiss with a soft sound of relief that sent Hob absolutely soaring.

It was several moments before they drew apart, Dream's hands carding through Hob's hair now and Hob's at Dream's hips, keeping him settled close. Dream rested his forehead against Hob's, eyes fluttering shut, fingertips stroking gently against Hob's scalp. Hob shivered at the sensual touch, fragments of their dream encounter resurfacing while he caught his breath.

"How long, then?" He slid one hand gently up Dream's spine and back down.

"Long enough." Dream kissed him again, soft and eager. "Too long."

"You never said anything."

"Nor did you."

Hob slipped both arms around Dream's waist, underneath the galaxy-lined coat, giddy that he was allowed. "You were—I didn't think—clearly I'm an idiot, because here we are, but I couldn't imagine you taking kindly to my interest."

Dream drew back enough to study him, considering his words carefully. "I…would not have taken it kindly, before, no matter my own feelings. You are correct."

"But now?"

Dream kissed him again, fierce and insistent and sincere, a long moment of poured feeling before reining it in. "Much has happened, to alter my perspective." His lips brushed Hob's as he spoke and bloody hell but it was difficult for Hob to hold back when the promise of kissing him again was right there. He managed, though, because Dream wasn't done yet and Hob was desperately interested in what he had to say, actually.

Dream put a little more distance between their faces, held his gaze now, fingers still laced into his hair. "Hob. I would. Give you candor. I would have you know, the value I place on your friendship. I would express my regard for you in every way you will accept it."

"In any way. Every way. I'm yours. However you'll have me, whatever you'll allow." Hob was reasonably successful, he felt, at corralling his mental babbling into coherent speech. "I'm yours, Dream. I'm yours."

Affections. Regard. Bloody brilliant. He felt the radiant smile splitting his face and let it happen.

Dream kissed it as it blossomed, reverently, and Hob's heart ascended.

"I should like to kiss you more often, Hob Gadling," Dream declared then. "It is every bit the delight I had hoped it to be."

Hob was never coming back down to earth, was he. "Y'know, if you'd led with that and your pretty little speech instead of bleeding mistletoe, I would have been kissing you sooner?"

"It was meant to be…spontaneous, and whimsical." Both things that Dream was decidedly not, generally speaking, but Hob held his tongue. "The dreamers are currently…awash, in their various holidays and accompanying traditions. This tradition, in this season, seemed an opportune means to express my intentions."

'Intentions'. Wasn't that just a fine old-fashioned way of saying it.

Hob grinned wider, trying (and mostly failing, but trying, dammit) to keep the giddiness under control. "So…what you're saying is, you're my Christmas present?" It was a terrible joke. He couldn't help it.

Dream gave him a look halfway between askance and consideration. "…If you wish to view it as such, then…very well. I am your Christmas present."

Delighted, joyful, Hob leaned up and kissed him, because he could.

Dream straightened up a moment later, regal as anything never mind that he was still perched astride Hob's lap, and his well-kissed expression shifted into something mildly imperious. "It is customary to unwrap one's gifts when presented with them, is it not?"

Hob's brain stuttered, ground to a shuddering halt, full record-scratch Hob-dot-exe-has-stopped-working blue screen. Dream had allowed his terrible joke to stand, that was remarkable enough, but now he'd gone and turned it around and lobbed it back? Embellished it with innuendo, of all the impossible—?

He stared up at Dream, wide-eyed and tongue-tied. "Um."

Was he. Did he mean it?

Dream gave him a mildly unimpressed look, with a little curl of smugness underneath; he leaned back in, pressed himself close, grazed his rose petal lips across the shell of Hob's ear. The softest of sighs ghosted after, and then his voice, warm and dark and rich as velvet.

"Unwrap your present, Hob. That you may. Open it, properly."

Hob-dot-exe restarted with gusto; he didn't need to be told a third time.

All in all, it was a very merry Christmas indeed.

===== Started: 12/8/22

Drafted: 12/23/22

Posted: 12/25/22

[klausinamarink]

writers 20 questions

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

45 at the moment! I have a few more wips to post on the way so the number is going to go higher

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

130,657

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Stranger Things. I’m looking to branch to other fandoms though like The Locked Tomb in the future

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Standup, You’re Never Too Much, Recapturing the Sunset, Just Another Flesh Wound, One Kid Gone, Another Up and Vanished

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes!! But not always as sometimes I immediately forget to reply and when I do, it’s a few weeks or a month later skkshdk forgive me

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Biting Back in Anger. It’s Eddie having a bad day and blowing up at Steve, who leaves trying not to cry :)

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

uhhh most of my fics have happy endings but I think I can nominate The Tinsel Tradition. It has Steve, Eddie, and Robin building a home together in NYC, healed and happy in every queer way!

8. Do you get hate on fics?

nope, thank god

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I’ve been writing more smut recently and exploring some areas. I’m honestly gotten more comfortable though it’s still a challenge to get the right words without coming off as awkward lmao. but that’s Phil’s (@theheadlessphilosopher) job 🫶💜

10. Do you write crossovers?

I’m more of a fusion au writer who borrows the setting and elements and places my blorbos in there than a straight-up crossover. Unless that counts as a crossover? Those two terms are kinds confusing sometimes..

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I’m aware of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

There are a couple folks who played around this idea with me but nothing concrete. Though I guess Phil’s beta work can count because he writes better lines and scenarios than me

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

You’re asking me, a Steddie blog—

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will?

oof. I have a TLOU steddie wip based on resande’s sketches, but it’s looking unlikely to be done because the person looking it as my beta reader over got busy with other things and I’ve lost the writing juice 😔

16. What are your writing strengths?

Many people tell me that I am very visceral with my descriptions, esp with horror, and setting the tension is top-notch 🥰 (I am a freak who loves gore and blood tehehehehe)

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I have too many ideas and a problem to actually write what I want that it comes off as juvenile to me. I also have a tendency to gloss over the editing of my fic which I’m trying to break out of.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I honestly don’t mind it at all. However, I do get taken right out of the story if the language is written literally (like kanji for Japanese, Cyrillic for Russian, etc.) and not romanized when the character is speaking because that’s not how it works

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Warrior Cats. We all started our writing careers from that series at some point in middle school lol

20. Favorite fic you've written?

Noooo, I can’t pick favourites- I love them all equally. But FINE, I’ll say it would be When Life Gives You Pickles, Make It Into Soup. I wrote this as mostly self-indulgent because I LOVE pickle soup and is the best comfort food of all time. I think anyone making soup in general for their significant other if PEAK relationship goals because who doesn’t love soup?? Of course I had to Steddie-ify it

thanks to Devon for tagging me! Tagging others with no pressure: @thefreakandthehair @pearynice @3minsover @penny00dreadful @chaosgremlinmunson

@cranberrymoons @dies-somniator

[hotcheetohatredwastaken]

For the ask game:

🫂- What was your inspiration for your WIP?

🥸- Which character is most like you?

🎻- Where do you look when you need some inspiration?

:D

🫂- What was your inspiration for your WIP? For BDOR, my base inspiration was the LU update where Wild pulled out Majora's Mask. There was an explosion (that is definitely an overexaggerated verbiage, but the fandom was smaller back then) of fics within the fandom, with quite a few of them featuring Time, basically, freaking out at Wild over having the mask. [This one here, by Tashilover, was probably my favorite (Explosive). Go check it out!]

Anyways, I wrote something like that as well at the time, though I never ended up publishing it, and it will not make it into BDOR because it would mess with the plot too much. But I've hung onto that dynamic of, basically, the heroes accidentally traumatizing one another, and also the idea of Wild and Twilight vs the rest, and how that actually plays out. I still have that scene that I wrote (bless 15 year old me) and I may publish it eventually, once I clean it up.

🥸- Which character is most like you?

Wild. My guy. He doesn't know exactly who he is, after the Calamity, and I love him for that. At least how I write him, he's fiercely independent and stubborn and heroic---but he's also, at times, a lost kid with memory issues and horrible insecurity that just needs some guidance. I relate to him <3

🎻- Where do you look when you need some inspiration?

For inspiration, I'll usually read other fics in this fandom, or I'll beta read some of my mutuals. Occasionally I'll look at art, too, we have so many amazing artists in this fandom <3. Just taking in other's works usually gives me ideas on how to push through my own blocks, whether they be from style problems or lack of ideas or whatever.

Thank you for the ask, amayis!

[dreamerinthemoonlight]

The Masks Wounded Hearts Wear

Character: Kaeya (ft. Zhongli, Diluc) Constellation: Chamaeleon Season: Winter Genre: Angst with a Happy ending @yunthebishoujo  here is your request CW: Angst with a Happy ending, Injuries,  A/N: This was long and sometimes emotional, but damn was it worth the effort. Slightly edited, but not beta read, since my beta reader requested this and wanted it to be a surprise. 

Summary: Kaeya tracks fatui in Dragonspine as a favor to Diluc. When things go south, he receives some wise advice.

CW: Angst with a Happy ending, Injuries, Ragbros being shitty at feelings

Word Count: Between 1500 and 2600 depending on whether you ask google docs or Ao3

AN: It's been freaking ages since I wrote this and it's still high on my list of favorites. Like, I am a total sucker a) for ragbros reconciliation, and b) for Zhongli being super wise and giving advice. Also for platonic cuddling, if this counts. I dunno if it counts in context.

Kaeya crouches in the shadows cast by one of Dragonspine’s massive hills, watching a fatui squad feat on a boar.

The knight’s stomach growls. The hundred or so feet between him and the fatui is not enough to dissipate the smell of cooking meat. After two weeks of tailing the group, eating nothing but standard Knight’s of Favonius trail rations, a growing part of him is suggesting joining them for dinner.

Unfortunately for his stomach and frozen fingers, he and the redhead vigilante that sent him are equals in the art of espionage, where discipline rules over all.

Kaeya brings his fingers to his face, trying to use what little breath escapes around his borrowed fatui mask to warm his fingers, but only succeeds in making them wet and cold, not just cold.

He shuffles forward a few steps, training his ears on the camp below him. 

As he does, a soft snow begins to fall, leaving a light layer of misery on the fatui agent outfit that Diluc loaned him. Where Diluc got it, Kaeya isn’t sure he wants to know.

With the uniform on, he tracked this squad from a spot just south of the Dawn Winery, up Wyrmrest Valley (where the number of fatui alone nearly got him bought) and down the road that clings to the western side of the mountain’s main peak, to where they are now. 

All Diluc said on the matter was “You still owe me a favor from when we trained as knights. I’m calling it in. There’s a squad of fatui not too far from here. Track them and figure out why they’re so close to the winery. And leave your vision behind. You won’t be able to hide it wearing that.”

When Kaeya asked why, Diluc responded with “You should know why.”

Kaeya sighs, watching his breath mix with heavy snowflakes. If he had to guess, the sour look on the redhead’s face was because he knows full well that Kaeya is the only one he can trust with this. Kaeya is the liar, the one with the masks, the one who could pass for a fatui if need be. And, Kaeya thinks with a smirk, Diluc’s shoulders would never fit in the pyro agent’s uniform

Kaeya waits for what seems like hours, listening to the fatui’s conversation while he acquires a layer of snow.

Eventually he hears a pyrosligner ask the others “we should be far enough from the wine maker’s mansion. We should open that wine now.”

Oh. Oh. Awareness dawns on the knight. You’re showing your hand little brother. This has nothing to do with the Dark Knight Hero, just a theft you apparently only trust me with.

Kaeya shuffles forward, trying to remain within sight of the fatui camp.

Two steps from his original position, however, the worst happens. With his eyes trained on the fire that serves as his only guide in the rising storm, he slips on a patch of ice.

His legs go out from under him and he lands on his back with a sharp crack before sliding into a snowbank. 

Kaeya lays there for several minutes, gasping for air that only burns.

Suddenly the mask on his face weighs a thousand pounds, mirroring the one that he’s worn since he was a mere ten years old.

His next breath is half sob. A stern face, framed in scarlet hair, filled with grief and bitter rage fills his vision.

So like a Knight of Favonius, inefficient, incompetent. A liar. You’re not my brother.

“Diluc. Brother.” Kaeya whispers.

As the snow falls on his mask, lingering as if they were frozen tears, Kaeya finds himself wanting to flee Dragonspine, to return to the Dawn Winery, his proper home. And embrace Diluc like a brother again. To see Diluc smile.

Kaeya stirs, pushing himself up, wrapping that desire around him like a cloak, then stumbles off into the storm. He doesn’t know what direction he’s going, but promises himself, no matter what, he’s going home.

While Kaeya fights a blizzard, Zhongli wanders around the Liyue edge of Dragonspine.

All around him, the few birch trees found in Liyue have lost the last of their leaves. But Zhongli finds that their winter state has an austere beauty. The ending of one year leaves room for the beginning of the next.

Not unlike the Geo Archon, Zhongli thinks with a wry chuckle.

Before he can move north, however, a flash of red and black amidst the blizzard raging on Dragonspine catches his attention.

A fatui pyro agent stumbles out of the wall of white. What few parts of the fatuus that aren’t covered in snow are frozen solid.

The ex-archon summons a stone spear, still his weapon of choice when it’s needed, but approaches the fatuus calmly. Although he seems to bear no threat, any fatuus warrants a certain level of caution.

The pyro agent tilts his head at Zhongli, as if confused  or disoriented, before collapsing.

After a moment’s thought, Zhongli releases the spear, letting it return to the earth, before lifting the fatuus and bringing him to one of the abandoned houses in Mingyun Village.

Once settled, Zhongli lays the motionless man on a bedroll, then curls up around him, chest to chest, using his own body heat to warm him. Then he removes the agent’s mask, curious as to the face of his new charge.

The sight of the supposed fatuus--or rather the battered young man wearing a fatuus uniform-- has Zhongli leaning back an inch and raising an eyebrow.

“This is… unexpected. Let's see what I can do for you, youngling.”

Zhongli examines the young man carefully, finding a sprained ankle, a couple broken ribs, and a number of scratches and bruises covering him from head to toe. 

Given the area the man came from, it all points to a bad fall--and likely a head injury.

At the thought, Zhongli lays a hand on his charge’s shoulder, gently shaking him awake.

As if a non-fatuus in pyro agent clothing wasn’t shocking enough, when the young man opens his eyes, Zhongli is met with something he hasn’t seen in 500 years, something he swore never to speak of. The violet irises looking back at him--or in his general direction, as the young man don't seem to be capable of focusing on anything in particular--surround the star-like pupils of the Khaenri’ah people. Khaenri’ah, which should be gone, something of the past and painful memories. But with eyes like his, there is no doubt, the young man is from Khaenri’ah.

Zhongli shoves the thought aside. Khaenri’ah fell half a millennium ago. No matter where the boy came from or what people he owes his allegiance to, Zhongli isn’t going to let him die from hypothermia and the worst of his injuries. So, he wraps himself around the young Khaenri'an and waits.

The Khaenri’an man slowly warms, regaining color in his lips and cheeks. As he does, his eyes clear and he reaches out for something, accidentally hitting Zhongli in the process.

“What are you looking for?” Zhongli says, mindful that his lip are inches away from the other man’s ear.

“Eye-patch,” the young man rasps, putting space between them.

Zhongli doesn’t follow, taking the opportunity to get a better look at his face while he takes a seat next to the bed-roll. Over his right eye the not-fatuus bears a prominent scar. 

“You didn’t have one with you. What’s your name?”

The more Zhongli speaks the greater the confusion present in the not-fatuus’ face. “Kaeya? Wait where am I? Where’s Diluc? I need to---”

Kaeya shoots up, but Zhongli pushes his shoulders down. “You’re in Liyue. You came out of Dragonspine. I trust you remember that much.”

“Dragonspine? Oh. Oh. How bad is it?”

“Broken ribs, sprained ankle, some bruises and scrapes. I wouldn’t be surprised if you started showing signs of a concussion. You shouldn’t be moving for a bit.”

Kaeya sinks into the blankets and stares up at the ceiling. “I guess.”

“Where are you from? Khaenri’ah has been gone for 500 hundred years.”

A spasm of pain crosses Kaeya’s face, before the emotion is shoved aside in favor of a well-practiced mask. “It’s a long story.”

“I have a fondness for long stories.”

Kaeya regards his savior with a guarded look. “You haven’t introduced yourself.”

“Ah. Pardon me. I’m Zhongli.”

The blatant suspension tells Zhongli that his charge is adept at reading others-- seeing things that aren’t spoken of--and that the current answer is not one he’d accept. 

“I’ll tell you my story if you tell me the truth.”

A contract: A secret for a secret; a truth for a truth; a fair trade of deep secrets. 

“It’s no lie. But trading one truth for another is fair. I will agree.”

“Thank you.”

Zhongli takes a moment to read Kaeya, the hesitancy, the exhaustion--certainly physical and likely emotional--, as well as a weight ill-suited for a man still in his early twenties.

“I think I’ll start, if that is acceptable to you.”

Kaeya nods. “Please.”

“Where to begin… Ah. Once, many, many years ago, the gods fought for dominance, seeking to claim the chairs of the seven archons. It was a brutal time and there was no peace in Teyvat. To protect one’s people, one would have to fight for the throne. Those who didn’t, died.

“One of those seekers was Morax. As history tells it, Morax won the Geo Throne, and spent nearly three thousand years watching over the Nation of Geo as Rex Lapis.”

“Rex Lapis is dead.”

“The only way for a nation to live without their archon is for that archon to put himself beyond the reach of his followers. The Geo Archon knew this well.”

“You’re Rex Lapis.”

“Morax is dead. I am simply an old fashioned Liyue citizen. I’ve simply seen more years than most and held power very few can comprehend. Now, I think it’s your turn, young Kaeya.”

Kaeya takes a deep breath and starts from the beginning, of how he was raised and the task he was given. He tells of how he was abandoned by one father and raised by the next and of his adopted brother. 

When he speaks of Crepus’s death, his fight with Diluc, and the vision that saved him, his voice weakens and he curls in hon himself.

“I don’t know how to make it better,” Kaeya confesses. “I don’t know how to make him not hate me. I did lie to him, to Father, and everyone at home, but I can’t tell them the truth. I just want to go home.”

Zhongli is silent for a long moment. “Perhaps it is best to stop lying to your brother.”

“What do you mean? I told him the truth. He nearly killed me for it.”

“About the past, perhaps, but have you told him what you just told me?”

“He wouldn’t accept it. I was surprised when he asked for my help tracking some fatui wine thieves. Really, all he had to do was tell me someone stole the wine. How, I don’t know, but they did.”

“Even for an archon, it’s impossible to truly know the hearts of others. You cannot know how he’ll react because you are not him. He went to you for help, didn’t he?”

“He did.”

“I’ve seen six thousand years and watched humans for more than half of it.” Zhongli smiles softly as he speaks. “Trust me, Kaeya. Be honest.”

“I’ll try.”

“Good. As soon as you can move around easily, I’ll take you back to Mondstadt.”

It takes two weeks for Kaeya’s ankle to heal and for his ribs to not twinge every time he moves.

With each moment that passes the ache in his heart grows. The longer he’s away from home, the more he wishes that he had never given it up. 

Once his sprained ankle heals, however, he wraps himself back up in the pyro agent’s clothing--a large part of those two weeks was spent mending the holes his fell had made-- and replaces the mask.

Zhongli frowns when he sees Kaeya back in the guise of a fatuus, but doesn’t comment. 

“Let go,” Zhongli says before leading Kaeya back home.

The night Kaeya returns to the Dawn Winery is a frigid one. Zhongli had left him at the edge of the two nations, wishing him luck and reminding him of the advice he gave.

Well after the sun has set, Kaeya checks his mask. It’s dirty and scratched, but it covers the scar over his eye. 

When he’s sure that all is in place he creeps up to the mansion and scales the walls. Diluc’s window is lit like it always is this time of night and rather than trying to get past Adelinde and the servants who are blissfully unaware of their master’s pastime, it’s easier to just pick the lock of the window.

The window creaks as it opens, startling Diluc out of his work, but Kaeya is in the room before he can move.

Diluc reaches for his claymore. “Who do---”

Kaeya hurries to remove the mask, certain that if it came to blows now, Diluc would wipe the floor with him. Frustrating, but true.

“Kaeya? What the---”

Diluc punches Kaeya, sending the latter’s head snapping backwards.

“Dammit, Diluc, what was that for?”

“We thought you were dead, you asshole,” Diluc hisses. “I thought I had sent you out to die. You should have at least sent a letter or something.”

“I didn’t know you still cared, D.”

Diluc opens his mouth to retort but closes it. “Where were you?”

“Recovering in Liyue. Getting some advice. It seems like Zhongli is as wise as he’s rumored to be.”

“Oh?”

“He told me to tell you the truth.”

Diluc raises an eyebrow. “The truth? The one you lied about until Father died.”

Kaeya backs up and sits on Diluc’s bed, rubbing at his aching ribs. Climbing the winery wall might not have been his brightest idea.

“I had bad timing on that. Father’s death messed me up too, D. He was larger than life and losing him was---”

“Hard.”

“Yea, it was. But there’s something else I haven’t said.”

Diluc glares at Kaeya. “Then say it.”

“I miss being here. I just about died after I slipped and fell during a storm--heroic, I know-- but all I could think about was how much I missed the way things were. I heard you calling me incompetent and a liar and all I wanted was for you to smile and call me brother again. I wanted to come home, to the Winery, to fight side by side. But I didn’t think you’d ever want to.”

Diluc takes a seat on the bed next to Kaeya. Kaeya's honesty twists something in his gut, reminding him of the many times Crepus helped the two make up after their typical sibling squabbles. The guilt and mistrust that has constantly warred within him is quelled by those memories.

The redhead sighs and stares at his toes, not quite willing to look his brother in the eyes. “I think Father would be ashamed of us right now. We were brothers and brothers are supposed to stick together. Or that’s what he’d say.”

“He’d be lecturing us until our ears burned.”

Diluc looks over at Kaeya. “Can we try again?”

“What?”

"Can we try again? To be brothers. And maybe make Father proud."

"You really want to?"

“I was pissed, but I overreacted.”

Kaeya smiles. "Yeah. We can try again. It'll be nice to hang around you when I'm not working on drinking."

"Which you could stand to cut back on."

"Says the person who supplies my vice."

Yet, as they go back and forth, all Kaeya can hear is the unspoken “I still love you.”

[royaltrios]

here's some notes on my recent chsc: what you're missing

-since i published as needed as last year's snow in january, i've been busy trying to graduate and not had any time to read or write or even really think about genshin. then i visited our chsc server friends for a few days beginning of june and i came back and haven't stopped writing since

-on the drive up me and taho spent most of the two hours yapping about chsc, and it was lovely but also extremely extremely strange for me to hear someone praise my writing irl. im genuinely just stumbling through word documents like a bow-legged fawn so

-starting back up with writing this summer i started working things out on physical paper in a notebook. its actually been really fun/feels different than notes app/sticky note-ing it. i still did use sticky notes for puzzling out intricacies of the smut tho (and then proceeded to pretty much use none of it) i'll attach a pic of my notes here for fun even though its slightly horrifying to do

-like most of my fics ive had this one waiting in the wings for a while, basic premise though was just 'chsc first time happens after scara backhands childe in front of people and childe gets very horny about that'. wrote it over about two weeks, fight scene fucked me up until i just locked in and wrote all of it at once at 2am. spent a while rearranging the smut then sent it to pachi to beta, forced myself not to look at it during those days, got it back and made isolated edits and was too embarrassed to read the smut i wrote 2 weeks ago again so i just posted it. hope its ok

-i always always always have trouble with scara during harbinger era. its because im a chronic overexplainer/overjustifier for characters getting together. for his actions during that time i lean on the little tiny bit we ever saw of it and that's mostly abrasiveness... but you gotta pull on how wanderer acts/ his backstory a bit too to like really see where hes coming from at that point in the story. halfway thru writing i realized he wouldnt act the way i was imagining him acting, had to fix that, then had to tweak the rest of the fic

-basically; i think childe would accept that he has a thing for scaramouche without too much thought. he's into mean people who're older than him + match his freak. he goes towards what makes him feel good. scara on the other hand i think... he immediately justifies the pull he feels as 'childe's stupid enough that i can use him'/'he worships me without being told'. this is a guilty pleasure for both of them until they realize its not (which is what i hoped to set up by beginning it with their abyss connections-- they're alike from the very beginning and they're both being used in different ways) <- i talked to pachi some in the middle of writing and it helped me puzzle out what chsc would be feelin a bit more. ty dr pachi phd in childe characterization

-had to have like multiple tabs open of bible's rgg pwp fics as emotional support. i filtered fics tagged 'cunniligus' in my bookmarks more than once. i was floundering. 90% of what i write or consider writing is E rated but i don't actually get much fulfillment out of describing smut. however i kind of tried really hard here bc i know thats what 99% of people are reading this for and even though i hate when i have to write the words scaramouche and clit directly next to each other i ended up pretty proud of the smut here.

random favorite bit:

“Well, it—” Childe's hips buck up into Scaramouche's fist. With a strained expression across his face and in a tone that sounds a little too genuine, he says, “feels kinda... different, since it's you." It's as bold-faced and earnest as anything else he's heard Childe say. But it's a sort of confirmation that Scaramouche was hoping to avoid—whilst simultaneously enjoying dancing around it. Stupid to give him this much leeway, this much permission, and not expect the guy who does everything else with the ruthlessness and loyalty of a hunting dog not to extend that to this.

i liked this bc i felt like i managed to nail down scara realizing he might've bit off more than he can chew without disrupting the smut. and childe + dog metaphor + shaky earnest confessions + L + ratio

-my penchant for having characters write letters in fic returns (almost as bad as my thing with inserting flashbacks in the middle of stuff) (i like first person but i dont like it in fic so this is the only way i can do it)

-looped teenage dirtbag (title + captured how i was trying to play childe here) (friend told me recently the singer of wheatus went to hs around where we grew up?), against the kitchen floor by will wood (taho's doing), some high energy 2000s stuff while revising the fight scene, my age gap oriented pl + will stetsons rabbit hole cover during the smut

i'll leave whoever reads this with a teenage dirtbag induced write-up i did to try and work out why i ended up liking the title i chose so much:

what you're missing-- what you're letting pass you by. what you don't have by not looking at me, what you'll want back in the future. what you don't have by not having me. what you've been trying to find, to grasp. what you didn't know you were missing.

[0nelittlebirdtoldme]

Writer asks

Got tagged by @bluecatwriter. With another year of writing slowly coming to an end, why not look over some of my stuff? Thanks for the tag!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

143 works, however 2 or 3 of them are just some of my crossposted fanart.

2. What's your total ao3 word count? 428,434. Wanted to get to 500k this year, but i suppose i am not quite there yet.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Still just Dracula/Dracula 2020. Some IWTV, some Fight Club. 2 for Empire of the Vampire which i have neither finished reading, nor is there a proper fandom for.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Death's Sunrise (of course, the only fic to gain over 1k kudos). 1,071 as of now

3 Sandman fics i don't care for anymore so i am not gonna name them (if you are curious, just look them up yourself, you know where to find them)

The Gathered Night 

Touch as Soft as Ice (Harkula Tumblr Prompts) (the tumblr prompt collection which i kind of have disbanded by now - i just post the prompt fics by themselves these days)

Ladybugs Don't Fly at Night 

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to, but sometimes i just lack the energy. I do get a lot of comments, in all fairness, but even if i don't reply right away, i just want you to know that i do read and appreciate them all! <3

6. What's the fic you wrote that has the angstiest ending?

The majority is really angsty. If I had to guess, either DS or Completed - a quadruple drabble in which Dracula, in his delusion, is holding onto Jonathan's very dead corpse, somehow still waiting for him to come back to (un)life.

7. What's the fic you wrote that has the happiest ending?

Either something from Castles in the Air, my softer drabble collection, or something like Keeping Family - a very self indulgent murder husbands + accidental baby acquisition fic.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

By god, the things i find in my inbox some days are really something. (Side bar: just because a writer writes specific themes and topic it doesn't make it alright to send them death and grape threats christ on a cracker)

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Oh yes. My smut always flirts with the idea of consent and power dynamics. I think it's in general on the more intense side, although i do have some softer, slower works. A personal favorite of mine are the really sweet and sloppy ones - consensual somno and the like.

10. Do you write crossovers?

TGN, my beloved. My Dracula x IWTV crossover. Not really related to either Dracula or Interview with the Vampire, but i just wanted to put my 4 vamps (Jonathan, Drac, Louis and Lestat) like mentos into a carbonated soda bottle and shake them around real good, just to see what happens.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Er. Yes. Was a whole deal. Sorted it out. Kinda. Hope it doesn't happen any longer.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not officially (see no. 11)

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, but I would be down for it! I do some beta reading for KINGBeerZ on ao3, both for his Dracula fics as well as currently an original work, which is fun and interesting, but i could totally see myself actually co-writing a fic with someone else if we had the same vision for the story.

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

Forgive me, but yes, it is Harkula. Sorry not sorry. I like them messy, i like them problematic, and i am aware of it. Also i just like to see Jonathan properly dishevelled and out of breath.

15. What's a wip you want to finish, but don't think you ever will?

There has been one fic i pulled and have not looked at since. It was giving me trouble the second i posted it, made me have a mental break down and freak out. Didn't get much feedback on it the weeks after so i decided it wasn't worth the trouble. Probably wouldn't do it that way these days, but eh.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I feel like i am quite good with dialogue, quick snappy banter and teasing and the like. Maybe also the way i describe pain, body horror, etc.?

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Grammar. I swear. As a non native speaker, it is always grammar for me.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I either translate it right away, put it in italics, or leave it as it. Totally depends on what effect i want to achieve.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

With great shame i have to say that i started out on Wattpad. 15 year old me has discovered BBC's Sherlock and was unstoppable (well, at least until i switched to ao3 and nuked the wattpad account). On ao3 my first fic was DS, and the fandom Dracula (2020)

20. Favorite fic you've written?

Hard to say. I still love DS despite the typos and messy plot, and am currently obsessed with TGN. But there are so many others i am quite proud of.

Leaving a tag for @argyleheir as well as @chthonic-cassandra and anyone else who feels like it, but absolutely no pressure!

[ilovecupcakesandtea]

Chapter one Chapter eight My master list

Title: Chapter seven

Word Count: 1628

Archive Warnings: Smut in future chapters. Slight angst. Alcohol misuse.

Rating: E

Pairing(s): Eddie Munson/Steve Harrington Robin Buckley/Chrissy Cunningham

Character(s): Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, Chrissy Cunningham, Benny, Uncle Wayne & The Party

Tags: Smut. Angst. Steddie. Buckingham. Steve Harrington. Eddie Munson. Robin Buckley. Chrissy Cunningham. Band AU. TW Alcohol use.

Summary (optional): Two different styles of music, two boys that really don't like each other. What could possibly go wrong?

Beta Reader: Thank you so much to my beautiful beta readers @slippy-slip @ladydarklord & @dontwasteyourchances

Art link and credit: Art is by the wonderfully talented @pink-luna-moth (as is the banner)

Fic link and credit: Ao3 Link

AN: First off thank you to Alex for the art and being just amazing to work alongside. Thank you to Slip for dragging me back from the edge so many times over this. I really am so excited to have this out here!!

I wrote this for the @strangerthingsreversebigbang event and had a lot of fun doing so!!

Divider links: reblog and music notes

Two weeks later, the girls set their plan into motion. Chrissy had told Eddie that she wanted to meet him at his favourite coffee shop and Robin told Steve the same. The morning of, all they could both do was wait and hope it all went ok. 

Eddie was the first to arrive, thinking back he should have known something was wrong. Chrissy wasn’t a fan of this coffee shop, she preferred the sugary drinks from the place around the corner. He sat down and knowing full well he was about 10 minutes early got his book out to kill time. 

“Have you seen Robin?” a voice asked from beside him, “I was meant to be meeting her here” 

“And I was meant to be meeting her little meddling witch of a girlfriend.” Eddie sighed, looking up at the face of Steve. 

“This was a set up, wasn’t it?” Steve grumbled.

“ ‘fraid so” Eddie replied, “you don’t need to stay if you don’t want to” 

“No, we should talk, if they’re getting involved it’s gone on too long,” Steve said sitting down with his coffee opposite the other brunette. “What have I done? Don’t say it’s not me because I’m the only one you’ve been ignoring and I’m the only one you avoid. So, what have I done?” 

“That night at the club hurt, ok? I wasn’t expecting declarations of love or even a date. But damn, it was cold as fuck to just go and find someone else to take home right under my nose.” Eddie said, fidgeting with his fingers. 

This felt like a make-or-break moment; there was a chance Steve could get really freaked out and walk away from everything. Steve could tell him he was with that other guy and that they could still be friends or he could tell him that taking that guy home was a mistake. 

“You zipped up your pants and walked away from me within seconds” Steve pointed out. “We walked back into the club, grabbed drinks, and you walked away from me without a second thought.”

“I wanted to give you space. We haven’t exactly been the best of friends, well ever. I wanted to give you a chance to work out what you wanted, if anything, from me.” Eddie replied, finally looking at Steve. “You went and found someone within a handful of minutes and didn’t take too much longer after that to take him home, so I figured you didn’t want anything from me. It just really hurt to see it thrown in my face is all.” 

“I’ve been such an idiot.” Steve declared moving to sit by the other man “I thought you walking away meant you didn’t want anything and regretted what had happened. I found him to make myself feel better, he was actually awful in bed” he ended with a laugh. 

“I’m not even going to pretend to be sorry that my replacement was bad in bed” Eddie smirked, turning to face Steve. 

“He could never replace you. You’re the most insufferable person I know, but despite that, I’d like a do-over of this whole thing. If that’s ok with you.” Steve asked. 

“I’m sure we can do that. It was a miscommunication on both parts.” Eddie said

“Can we turn this into a date? A coffee date or a date somewhere else, you choose, I just want to take you on a date” Steve said.

“How about take away coffee and a walk back to mine?” Eddie asked, suggestively raising an eyebrow.

“I’ll get the coffee” Steve replied, standing up and heading back to the counter as quickly as he could, leaving Eddie cackling after him on the couch. 

The walk back to Eddie’s consisted of holding hands, drinking coffee, and pressing each other into as many walls as they could with kisses and giggles. 

Stumbling through the door to the apartment, clothes were quickly shed. The two boys made their way through to the bedroom, where they spent the next few hours wrapped together.  

“Shall I make us something to eat before we have to head to band practice?” Eddie asked later in the day, walking out of his bedroom in just his sweatpants slung low on his hips. 

“Please babe, I am hungry after that workout.” Steve laughed, following him in his boxers and a t-shirt he’d grabbed off the floor that he was sure was Eddie’s now he looked at it again.

“We can’t tell the girls their plan worked, we’d never hear the end of it if we did.” Eddie said, starting to go through his cupboards for the ingredients he needed.

“Agreed, say nothing has changed but make it very obvious something has?” Steve suggested. 

“I like your way of thinking,” Eddie declared as he started to cook.

Walking into Chrissy’s garage in the early evening they noticed that the girls were both already there and going over some lyrics they must have been working on. 

“Look bunny, it looks like they made up” Robin cheered, nudging Chrissy and nodding toward the boys that had just walked in.

“Not at all, your ridiculous plan didn’t work, I walked out as soon as I saw him” Eddie frowned, his arm very clearly slung over Steve’s shoulder and Steve’s arm very clearly around his waist. 

“Which is for the best because I wouldn’t have stayed anyway,” Steve said. 

“Ok, sure,” Robin shrugged. “Eddie’s shirt looks good on you though so maybe steal from his wardrobe more” 

“You’re welcome asshole” Chrissy shouted as she headed back into her house to grab something. 

Things changed from that evening onwards. Band practice was a lot more relaxed and hanging out for a little bit afterward always happened. Writing practice also saw a change in the lyrics, gone were the days of Eddie being poetic over doomed love he was now waxing lyrical over ‘big brown doe eyes’ and thick heads of soft brown hair. 

The band interacted more on stage as well in their next gig which the fans seemed to love. Eddie was his normal charismatic self but he was all over Steve, touching him every opportunity he got, running his hands through Steve’s chest hair, on display as it always was when he was on stage, and singing any kind of dirty lyric to him.

“So, guys, you know my mom’s been in contact with a few record studios to get us sometime in a booth so we can record some of our songs and finally get them out there?” Chrissy asked as they all sat around her garage writing one evening. “Well, she’s managed to get us one week next month! We need to decide what we’re going to be recording.”

Chrissy’s mom had taken an almost manager’s role, her job as a lawyer and specialising in contract law she wanted to make sure if the band did get shown any kind of contract that they were treated fairly. Letting the band manage the actual running of the band and any drama there, keeping to making calls and checking contracts. 

“That’s amazing! I’ll make sure to get her some flowers to say thank you” Steve said from his spot on Eddie’s knee. 

“Should I be jealous? You never get me flowers, are you trying to woo Mrs Cunningham under my nose?” Eddie teased, poking Steve’s ribs and making him giggle.

“Yes, I’m trying to seduce Chrissy’s mom.” Steve replied, rolling his eyes “Think it’ll work Chris or do I need to add more Harrington charm to things when I see her next?” 

“Please don’t talk about you and my girlfriend’s mom” Robin gagged, causing everyone else to fall around laughing.

One of Eddie’s friends, Gareth, was a producer and was free enough to join them for their recording session. The band had spent the three weeks they had between finding out and recording to practise the songs they wanted to record as much as possible and running through the track order so it all flowed smoothly. 

The Monday morning of recording week saw the band awake and at the studio bright and early setting everything up ready for when Garetharrived. He had already spoken to them over speakerphone to give them a rundown of how the week would go and a timeline for what would happen after. They had decided that the album would be 10 songs lasting roughly 50 minutes. 

“Let's get this show on the road!” Gareth shouted as he walked into the studio where the band was waiting. “Quicker we start laying things down, the quicker all this comes together. Almost no song ever gets recorded just once so be patient and stick with it and it’ll be magic, okay?” 

It was decided that the bass and drums for each song would be recorded first so that they could be used to keep the beat for the vocals and guitar. The first couple of songs were recorded fast and by the end of the first day the band walked away exhausted and achy but with a feeling that something great really was happening. 

The rest of the album was recorded during the rest of the time they had, the band having to take breaks to rework things with Gareth's Input so that everything flowed better. As they left the studio in the early hours of the Saturday morning, there was a real buzz of excitement over what they had managed to accomplish in the last few days. They had been able to have a listen to a rough copy of the album before they left and they were all really proud of what they had been able to accomplish on their own, well with Gareth’s help. Now to get it out there and on sale.

[xviruserrorx]

Title: "Love Out Of Plain Sight"

Because the author (me) is incompetent and cannot pace or restrain myself at all, my wonderful giftee (Adam) is going to get a two in one gift! Uh... Yeah long story short I have been writing your (hi Adam 😃👋) gift but I was like "No, this is THEE jewishadammilligan (also I should just mention now I may have squealed when I saw who I got) they deserve extravagance!" And then shortly regretted that as the fic got really long... Kinda freaked out, contacted the amazing @klayr-de-gall (who is running this awesome event might I add midamgiftexchange2022) which they handled frazzled and sporadic me so amazing and they gave me a grace period then as I pulled two all nighters writing I realized I still would not have enough time even with the grace period so, TA-DA double the gifts!

I wrote this rather quickly and no beta so I apologize if there's any Grammer mistakes. But I really hope you like it, your original "extravagance" gift written specifically for you is still being written as fast as I can write and hopefully I will get it to you within the week! Enjoy!!!!

Gifted to: @jewishadammilligan

Fandom: Supernatural

Prompt(s): "Fluff or silly AU's"

Relationship(s): Adam Milligan/Michael

Character(s): Adam Milligan, Michael (archangel)

Important tag(s): Bartender Adam Milligan, Fluff, Dash of angst, Accidental Engagement, Canon Divergence

Rating: Gen

Warning(s): No Archive Warnings Apply, Drinking, mentions of alcohol

Word Count: 4,086

With a ducked head, he hesitantly brought the glass to his mouth with a brief pause before taking a sip. "We're… engaged?"

Adam reached to grab the empty shot glass and caught another glance of the ring around his finger, It was a simple small band but its presence was felt and known. He shrugged. "Why not?"

Or

Adam gets his "little job" but even then, that brings its own unexpected occurrences when your boyfriend is an Archangel.

Continue reading below or over on Ao3

(Other Works) (Request a Fic) (Navigation) (Ao3)

Something more than noise always accompanied Adam where he went. The sounds of his childhood were like pollen off of flowers, sticking and serving as a reminder of where things had once been and once were. He could find familiarity in them—comfort even.

But the sounds of a bar were far from that.

The constant clink of glasses against one another, against the wood of the table tops, or ice sloshing around. There was a constant buzz of minor sounds that clouded over the hum of chatter in the background. Though despite that, the bar quickly became a place of familiarity along with the noises that inhabited the space.

The only new and interrupting noises were coming from Adam.

A soft hum escaped his mouth to the tune of a song as he absentmindedly danced to it. Everything known as, rhythmically, he moved along to his own beat, chopping away at the limes on his cutting board.

The ones that weren't rolled were pushed off to the side as he did so to the ones that needed it. An alarming perfume, tangent from the pungent smell of sweet citrus that layered over the warm amber of the bar, stuck to his hands. A scent that would carry on long after he left for home.

Everyone, he found, was too busy in their own engagements to give a curious eye towards the humming and dancing of the bartender. Allowing him to do more than hum or move much to his own enjoyment just as much as Michael's.

Something that Michael, himself, thought nobody knew he was secretly thankful for… Much like his ignorance towards the specific song Adam had been humming for weeks with no end in sight. From the second he woke up, picked between the black combination of tie and waistcoat or bowtie and suspenders to the moment he stripped away his clothes at the end of the night before bed.

Much something, one and the same, if not already known, Adam very much knew of as well.

The odd mix of admiration in Michael's face but deep annoyance in his posture had kept Adam from concealing his smile around him for the lengthy time the tune had kept its space in his head. The catchy melody, on his lips in every situation even if deemed so inappropriate, or in a matter that definitely did not call for a song.

All things that kept him well entertained as he continued to cut lemons and limes.

He took a spin, still with the knife in hand, coming face to face with Michael. Eyes followed his every move but with that known something else Adam loved to poke and prod at. 

"What?" He questioned, playing innocent.

Michael took a deep resounding sigh and shook his head. "Nothing."

"That look isn't nothing," He chided him, haphazardly waving around the knife.

Michael all but rolled his eyes. "That song you were humming," He said, but kept his eyes on the knife as it sliced through the lime and hit the board.

"What about it?" He looked up from the last lime he was cutting into, receiving a done look from Michael. He chuckled. "Oh come on, you love it."

"I hate it."

"It's amazing!"

"It's terrible."

"It's the best thing ever created, Michael," Adam exclaimed.

Michael scoffed. "I could argue with creation."

"Well then—Ow!" The knife clattered down as he raised his index finger to his mouth. Blood stained the skin when he pulled back to take a look at the deep gash across his finger. A small moan of pain escaped as he put it back to his mouth in an attempt to stop the bleeding.

Michael held out his hand instantly. "Let me."

He obliged, laying his hand in Michael's. A single finger was lightly brushed over the gash. The skin instantly healed, leaving behind only the trace of blood and phantom pain as evidence of it ever being there.

"Better?" He lightly brushed over his finger again as he looked up at him.

Adam smiled. "Yeah." Taking his hand back as Michael retreated his own hands, he eyed the area where the skin had stitched itself back together.

Though his awe of the situation was quickly interrupted by the ring of the bell above the bar door. A man dressed in a suit and coat trudged in, making a beeline for the bar.

"Crap," he hissed under his breath. He quickly cleaned up his mess and washed his hands before turning back to Michael. "We're not finished."

He threw the towel in hand halfway to hang over his shoulder as he made his way over to the man. "What can I get for you, Sir?"

The man didn't so much as bother with his coat as he sat down at the first chair he approached. "Whiskey—neat, please." 

"You got it." He pulled a clean glass and turned to grab the correct bottle from the bottom shelf. "Rough day?" He questioned, trying to make small talk.

The man scoffed. "You could say that."

He poured and then pushed the drink forward as it came to the line. "There you go."

"Thanks."

He shot Michael a smile as he got back to what he was originally doing before. He grabbed the last of the lime wedges he had cut, squeezing them into the awaiting drink he had been preparing.

But before he could even reach for another, he heard the telltale sound of an empty glass hitting the bar top. 

"Another, please."

He wiped his hands on the towel before walking back over to the man and doing as asked. "Sure, you're alright, sir?" He slid the re-filled drink back towards the man.

The man hung his head, his eyes red and far away as he asked, "Have you ever been in love?"

"Once," Adam answered. "The other time it was more… walking beside it."

The man sniffed. "Better than falling." He let go of the glass and reached into his coat pocket, pulling out something and depositing it on the bar top. "Been holding onto that for months… but I guess I wasn't quick enough."

Adam stayed quiet and continued to listen as he looked down at the discarded ring band that glimmered under the dull lighting of the bar.

"Twelve years… down the drain, all just because I came home early." He shook his head in disbelief with a tight pained grin. "If it's one thing, take love by the hand while it's still beside you." He brought the glass to his lips and downed its contents in one go.

Adam stayed still as the man pulled out his wallet and left more than enough for what he drank.

"Keep the change." He stood from the chair and started to make his way toward the door.

"Sir!" Adam called, he picked up the ring still on the bar top. "You forgot this."

The man gave him a somber smile and a nonchalant wave of his hand. "Keep it. I think you'll find more use for it than I ever will." The chime of the bell on top of the door followed him out into the night.

Adam twisted the ring between his fingers. The metal caught the light with a glimmer before he pocketed the object. He spared another glance towards Michael with a smile before grabbing the empty glass. "What's that look for?" 

Michael's eyes widened. "Hm?"

"That look," he stated. He grabbed the drink he had been working on and walked back towards him. "You act like I don't see it every time anyone sits here."

"And that is?"

"If looks could kill, Michael. These poor guys." He shook his head. Though almost like it were yesterday, vibrant memories flashed in his head of instances where a single look from Michael was someone's death. "I take that back actually." He quickly countered. "No smiting any of my customers."

"Unless none of them are demons, there won't be any smiting of your customers," he soothed.

"Thank you. Now—" Adam placed the glass he had in hand in front of him. "Drink up." He smiled.

Michael all but glanced at it for a brief second as though it was a plague before looking back and cocking an eyebrow.

"Oh, come on, humor me," Adam pleaded.

"This stuff will kill you."

"But not you. Try it, I made it special." He scooched the glass an inch closer with a finger.

Michael gave him a wary look before picking up the drink and giving the liquid a few swishes around the glass. "Special?" He questioned.

"Mhm," he hummed. "Special."

The glass was raised to the light as Michael contemplated the mixed drink. He lowered it with another glance inside and towards Adam who beamed a smile and wiggled his eyebrows. Taking an uneasy breath, Michael took a decent-sized drink.

"Well…?" Adam proded. "Are the molecules any good?"

He brought the glass a safe distance away from himself, licked his lips, furrowed his eyebrow, and cocked his head to the side. "It's… sweet?" He swallowed, his tongue moving in his mouth as unrecognized flavors danced, masking themselves behind ones he could distinguish.

"Well, then that's good for you." Adam bit his lip at his reaction.

Michael cleared his throat, grimacing at the aftertaste. "What is that?"

Adam shrugged his shoulders as if he hadn't been the one to make it. He made sure to leave him hanging as he saw one of the guys sitting at the far table stand and make his way toward the bar.

"My little mystery for you, figure it out." 

He slung the towel back over his shoulder and walked towards the guy. "What can I get you?"

"Four shots of vodka and three cokes."

"Coming right up." He got to collecting everything he needed.

The young man leaned against the counter. "Are you new here?"

The comment caught him off guard but he continued, keeping up conversation and doing the task at hand as best he could. "Yeah, just started a couple of days ago."

The man gestured back at the table he had been at. "Me and my friends are regulars here, you could say."

"Guess I'll be seeing a lot of you then." Adam pushed a polite smile. 

"And you as well." 

Adam gave a curt nod before sliding the shots his way. "Here you go."

The man grabbed the extra shot and took it down, passing the glass back. "Say… when does your shift end?"

Adam froze. "Excuse me?" He jerked up the coke he was serving as he missed the glass towards the end.

"I mean, could I take you somewhere once you're able to get out of here?"

"Oh…." He said, letting it sink in. "Oh! Uh, I…."

"Were you…?

"No, I—um…" He panicked. He fumbled with the ring in his pocket. His last-second decision of his judgement failed him as he shimmied the ring on his ring finger in his pocket. He raised his hand to clearly see the band. "I'm—I'm taken."

He saw Michael visibly choke on his drink out of the corner of his eye. He tried not to grin as he peaked over before letting his eyes fall back on the customer in front of him. "I'm sorry if I…"

The man shook his head. "No, don't, I apologize. You didn't do anything of the sort. Should had know a good-looking guy like you would already be taken."

He watched Michael bristle at his comment again.

"Engaged? Married?" The man questioned.

He turned the band around his finger with his thumb. "Uh, engaged—newly." He slid the ready-poured drinks towards him.

"Congrats. Lucky guy." He grabbed the drinks and left with a smile back to his table.

Adam let out a slow exhale. "Not a demon. Can't kill him either, Michael," he chided him for safety measures. He ran a cloth over the counter from the few drops that had split. He smiled to himself before looking over, expecting the same look back from Michael but instead just saw the opposite.

His glance was locked in one spot on the counter, not breaking even when he brought up his hand and rubbed it over his mouth before going back to the glass. His posture and everything screaming flashing red lights had Adam worried about how to approach it.

"Michael?" He waited for a look, an answer—something, before closing the distance between them. He pushed the cloth aside as he leaned in and lowered his voice. "Hey," he snapped his fingers a few times. "Earth to Michael."

Michael's attention snapped back to him. "Sorry…" he shook his head.

"Where were you?"

"Here… always," he answered.

Adam smiled. "With me?"

"With you." He held the glass from the rim and gently swishes it around.

Adam tilted his head. "You okay?"

"Okay," Michael repeated. Words lacking any and all emotion. With a ducked head, he hesitantly brought the glass to his mouth with a brief pause before taking a sip. "We're… engaged?"

Adam reached to grab the empty shot glass and caught another glance of the ring around his finger, It was a simple small band but its presence was felt and known. He shrugged. "Why not?"

"Why not?" Michael repeated again, a chuckle edging on disbelief as he shook his head. "Shouldn't this at least be… proper then?" He took a drink, eyebrows furrowed both from his question and the still unknown flavour in his sweetened drink.

"I mean most people get engaged a few years after dating. What's ten… hundred years?"

Michael put down his glass, pushing it a small distance away from himself with disdain. "Dating?"

"Nonsensical terms." Adam waved his hand. "All this really. Rings, vows, the whole getting down on one knee and clandestine white weddings." Despite his claims of nonsense though, he looked off with something wanting. Knowing that was always what he had imagined for himself all through his life before everything happened. "Just something created for one person's used and pushed on everybody else."

Michael cocked his head, an all too knowing look on his face complete with a small content smile. "Nonsense you say?"

"Nonsense, Michael. Full of it."

"You haven't taken it off." He remarked with a gesture towards his hand.

Adam put his hand straight out in front of him, allowing the ring to catch the dim lights of the bar as he admired the ring with a small wiggle of his fingers. "I think it looks quite good, don't you?" He lowered his hand and showed it to Michael.

"If I agree?"

"You did put a ring on it."

"Technically you put that ring on yourself," Michael corrected.

He waved his hand. "Same thing, angel."

Michael tilted his head, eyebrows in that worrying position again like Adam had seen so many of the angels do before; just never Michael in so many instances. His gaze, temporarily lost in his unwanted drink while Adam stopped in his actions.

"Does it mean the same thing?" He earnestly asked.

Adam froze in what he was doing. Hating that despite Michael being the first-born archangel the whole knowing humans before their creations and watching them from the beginning of time, he still asked questions that at times reminded Adam that he was in fact an angel. Though at the same time, he began to wonder if it didn't make him all that different from an everyday human being. Questioning what he held a lack of understanding for; love, feelings…. Things that Adam wished he could ask as so plain and simple about.

He took a deep breath. "No, Michael, it doesn't. That's just how these types of things work."

"These types of things?" He repeated in a question.

"You, Me—" he smiled. "Us…. This." He gestured around at their surroundings. "Everything, Michael."

"It's hard to understand all of this sometimes."

He chuckled. "I'm not the wisest of teachers either."

"I wouldn't have anyone else, or rather can't… you're the only one who knows you after all," he admitted.

Adam smiled. "And you?"

"I'm learning."

"Then… us?" He asked.

Michael shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know."

"If I do?"

"Then explain it to me."

"Fine." Adam wiggled the ring off his finger and leaned over the counter, grabbing Michael's left hand in his. He cleared his throat. "Michael… you don't have a last name do you?"

"Celestial being," he stated. "And that's what is worrying you right now?"

"Yes, and it's a good thing I have one then," Adam remarked. "Uh…" he aimlessly waved his hand, "something about love and togetherness—"

"Togetherness?" He questioned.

"Hush, I've only ever seen this done in movies."

Michael ducked his head, hiding a smile in his glass.

Adam sighed. "What do people say when they propose?" He suddenly wished he had watched all those soppy romance drama movies with his mom.

Michael put down his glass. "Is that what you're doing? Proposing?"

"Do you need me down on one knee too?" Adam teased.

Michael cocked his head with an amused grin. 

Adam shook his head, a warm chuckle escaping his mouth as his grip on Michael's hand tightened. He took a breath. "I'm proposing… that we've been together for hundreds of years, locked in a place I never really saw the true horrors of thanks to you. We only had each other and I… care about you, and even though this ring means nothing, you mean something—everything to me. So—" he raised the ring, "will you take my proposition?"

A grin was placed on Michael's face nonetheless, but a hint of confusion was buried underneath something Adam didn't know.

"With careful consideration?" Michael half questioned. Hesitance hanging for a drop and catch of reassurance.

Adam shifted his hold, gripping his hand tighter with a smile. "I wouldn't know any other way from you."

"And if I say yes?"

"Yes? Then this—" he raised the ring, "—will belong there—" he tapped Michael's ring finger.

He watched his expression change into something unreadable, leaving his heart to jump with worry that his mind pushed aside…. 

Then Michael spoke.

"If it doesn't belong there?" The question was as nonchalant as could be.

Adam gasped for a breath he didn't realize he has completely exhaled at Michael's words. "Oh… well, I—"

"No," Michael lightly chuckled over his sputtering. "This." He grabbed the ring from him in one hand and Adam's left hand in the other before sliding the ring back onto his finger.

"Oh."

"Like you said. It looks quite good there."

Adam straightened back up once his heart had found Its place and his breath had returned. "It does, doesn't it? Nice fit." He gave another small wiggle of his fingers, the cold band rubbing against the insides of his pinky and middle finger.

Michael scoffed a laugh. "What did I say yes to exactly? Loving you is understandable but I know marriage is usually tied in."

"Not fond of the whole commitment thing?" 

He tilted his head for a second. "I'd rather not engage in anything that has to do with my father." 

"Most people don't," Adam explained. "We'll just elope."

Michael caved. "I'll bite. Where?"

He shrugged. "Anywhere."

"Anywhere to me means a matter of things," he informed.

"Well, usually people do Vegas or something, not Mars or the Milky Way…. Not that I'm complaining or anything."

Michael smiled. "Whatever you wish."

Adam smiled in the moment but found it cut short as the bell above the door once again yanked his attention to look. He straightened and gave a friendly but curt wave to the older man coming in the door as he recognized him from the previous days he had worked.

He turned back to Michael. "Well, until then…" He ducked behind the bar and came up with something in hand. "I have another customer." He reached over and pushed a strawberry on the rim of his glass. "Fiancé."

He watched Michael's eyes on the strawberry before he looked back at him with a criticizing look from the newly placed nickname.

"Yeah, I know, felt weird for me too. Remind me to never do that again." 

Michael nodded. "Will do."

He pushed himself away and over to the older man. "Same thing?" He questioned, receiving a single nod back.

He went through the steps in his head as he finished making the drink. "Try that." He set it down in front of him.

The man took a long sip before putting it back down. "Perfect," he said.

Adam mentally applauded himself, letting a bright smile shine through at his self-satisfaction.

"See, told you you'd get it down with a few times for practice."

"Fast learner," he boasted. Though he knew it had taken him multiple attempts plus practice during his free time and much feedback from Michael and his 'tastes like molecules' to get it in drinkable condition. If the previous days were any proof of too much of one thing or too little of another.

The man's eyes widened. "That's new?" He pointed to his hand.

Adam looked down, smiled. "It is." He pretended to be casual about, maybe even forgetful about the ring around his finger despite the fact that it had all happened within the span of the last hour.

"Well look at you. Who's the lucky person?" He questioned.

Adam twisted the ring and took a brief glance over to Michael who was more preoccupied with staring at his drink. He smiled. "I am…"

The older man raised his glass. "Congrats."

All he wanted to do was rush home and to be alone with Michael how things once were and always had been. Just each other and nothing else. But first, he still had something to do.

He finished and walked back over to Michael. "Figured it out?" He looked towards the glass.

Michael wore a soft smile. "Strawberry…" he announced. He tapped and traced the rim of his glass with his middle finger. "It was strawberry."

He leaned into his space, lowering his voice for just them. "If you're right?"

Michael cocked an eyebrow. "A reward?" He questioned. 

Adam grinned, he reached over and plucked the strawberry from the glass, taking a bite of half of it before leaning back over and holding out the other half for Michael. 

Mischief played on Adam's lips, something Michael could hardly miss. His eyes never once left; a gaze like desire yet to be broken as he took the offering from his fingers.

Adam's left hand went over Michael's, the now prominent ring joining both of them together before back to each other. He brought his non-occupied hand back, dropping the leaves and stem to the side and licking the juices from where the strawberry had been between his thumb and forefinger. Tied eye contact not breaking to anything that dared to call attention.

Michael swallowed and licked his lips. "If I'm wrong?" He asked.

Adam cocked his head, sporting a faux expression of contemplation more to tease and play than anything. "Don't you want to know." His words were anything but a question.

"Do I?"

He always figured change was tied in with life-altering choices like proposing or marriage. But this—Michael, was anything but change; a warm wave of nostalgia that was there and always meant to be there.

Michael turned his hand, giving Adam more access to thread their fingers together. Both of their holds on another tightened for a pulse of breath before loosening yet still firm, neither one of them letting go. 

And like a fish with a hook in its mouth, fighting against the line, reeling closer as the waves moved with gentle ease that was otherwise so; they were both weak. They had caught each other looking for the same thing but found one another, pulling and fighting for the unknown at the end of the line until they faced what they knew all along that had led them to be so weak.

Adam's attention was tied to the slight tilt of Michael's head and that subtle upward curve of his lips. A gentle taunt as Michael studied Adam just as close as well. The way his hand flew and went in every which direction with every word he spoke, or even his bright light-up-the-world smile that shined every moment it could.

And in the end, he did just that, both of them aware of the other and everything in between, he cocked his head and smiled…

[drearybanana]

In order to make myself depressed I decided to write down all my longfic wips and categorize how many words they are and how finished they are.

When the Dust Settles- Danganronpa, multiple pairings - 80k words, 75% done.

drv3 kids are rescued before the filth murder and sent to Jabberwocky island to hide from Danganronpa. Not canon compliant because I forgot some of the details about how the third game ended when I started it, then decided I liked the misremembered ending better.

Baby, Don't Hurt Me - Sk8, Tadaai - 39k words, 20% done. maybe. my outline for this one is pretty loose.

Tadashi takes a bullet for Ainosuke, forcing them both to reconsider their relationship. Mostly a kind of Ainosuke rehabilitation fic about him loosing pretty much everything and having to rebuild his life from scratch. Honestly very attached to this one, but it's also sort of a 'Am I good enough to write this the way I want it' kind of thing...

The Snake, the Sun and the Blossoming Branch - sk8, matchasnakeblossom, 29k words, ?????% done.

Sequel to Recovery where Adam is dead and Tadashi is badly injured after their fall of the cliff. Tadashi doesn't know what to do with himself, but ends up with a job as the manager of Sia La Luce. This one is... complicated. I have a lot of ideas but no real plot, or maybe a lot of different ideas for plots that I'm not sure about. TBH I think I've probably written, like 60k words and shuffled them around, deleted and undeleted and I'm just stuck. A big problem is the Adam in Recovery is not really my actual impression of the character? Like, I started recovery very early in the show when Adam was still kind of Skateboard Hisoka so I just made him a pretty one-note villain, so it's hard to try and write all the Tadashi relationship stuff when the adam in that fic isn't really consistent with how I view adam... I still want to write it though. I like what i have and I like the character interactions.

Royal Pardon - hq!!, Sakuatsu, 37k words, 50% done

ABO royalty AU. Sakusa takes over Inarizaki, which was kind of a shithole. Atsumu and Osamu were planning a coup to dispose their father, and Atsumu convinces Sakusa to marry him in order to legitimize him to the people. Sakusa's a suspicious bastard and Atsumu's a tricky bastard. my first ABO fic and I was like 2k in before I realized I fucking forgot about Betas T.T. still, I have a solid outline for this one.

Star Crossed Rivals - p5, shuake, 18k words, 15% done

Up and coming actor Akechi accidentally falls in with Ren, who is working as a barista at LaBlanc. Ann is starring in a movie with Aketchi, and Shido is a retired actor who runs Akechi's talent agency that he joined to get close to Shido.

ok lol, so almost 200k words and five projects I should be working on. that's on top of an 'ideas' doc that's almost at 90k words and a handful of <5k word stories that I spun out into their own projects but haven't worked on much. that includes Plucked Strings, which I published the first chapter of and I have a lot of ideas for, or the full version of my vampire!Langa/hunter!Reki AU I wrote a short story about.

Honestly, now that I'm done wtih the Big Bang and Stolkholm is getting posted I need to decide what to work on. I always kind of want to pick dust settles since I'm so freaking close with it I just want to get it done and out there. I think I have the most momentum with Royal Pardon though...

[fanonplussed]

thanks @lu-sn for tagging me!

Rules: Go to your published works on AO3 and list the first fic you ever published there, the last fic you published, any fic that you wrote for a fandom/ship only once, your favorite fic you wrote in the fandom/ship that has the most works, the fic you wish more people read, the fic you agonized over the most, the fic that sprang fully formed from your mind without any effort, and a work you are proud of—for whatever reason.

--

first fic ever published: Settling Down, Settling In

this was Beka Cooper post-canon fic from 2011 and also the only het fic i ever wrote lollll though i then proceeded to publish nothing else for 8 years, i do still have a lot of fondness for this fic, and for the many, many het YA fantasy novels that have shaped the way i read and write

last fic published: a patient kind of guy

actually i lied, there's het in this fic too...specifically comphet, and the explorations thereof (it's a Be My Favorite fic, specifically a Pisaeng character study, nuff said). actually really proud of this one cause i like to think this fic showcases how far i've come in terms of being able to write angst, smut, humour, longing, and complex themes all in one 6k word fic

any fic i wrote for a ship only once: Five Times Wen Qing Writes to Jiang Yanli

huh, turns out i write quite a lot of ships only once, but i'm particularly proud of this femslash fic, firstly because in general there's not enough femslash in the world, and secondly because the MDZS ladies in specific deserved better!! also there's an incredible podfic recorded by some incredible people for it and listening to that was the COOLEST FREAKING THING

favorite fic for ship with most works: Thirty Years of (Someone Else's) Virginity Can Make You a Wizard?!

you know what, i loved this ship SO FUCKING MUCH and this was hands down the most joyful cracktastic fic i've ever written and it's all about THE MAGIC OF FRIENDSHIP and yeah, if i could pick one work to remember of everything i wrote for these boys, it would be this one. sigh.

fic i wish more people read: Dad Joke

speaking of joyful cracktastic fics about the magic of friendship lolllll Macau and Chay have so much potential to be INCREDIBLE together as romantic/platonic co-conspirators and i didn't even realise until i finished writing this fic--this legitimately started out with me wanting to have Macau yell "it's a dad joke" about calling Pete 'dad' and then i woke up from my 24 hour writing fugue state with new, inconvenient macauchay feels lol guess the joke is on me (also i sometimes read this fic again and still laugh at my own jokes and i'm v proud of that)

fic i agonized over the most: Starving, Faithful

okay i'm sure i agonised over The Long Road Across The Wilderness - 荒尘渡 too (42k words of yi city boys on a big bang deadline ><) but FUCKING HELL the sheer amount of SCREAMING i did about the vegaspete post-credits scene for Starving Faithful man, and how it didn't ALIGN THEMATICALLY with how i'd conceptualised vegaspete in chapters 1 through 4 with the HUNGER and the OWNERSHIP and i rewrote that ending scene SO many times (with very patient, intelligent handholding from my incredible beta) and in the end just kinda went fuck it and gave up lol tbh i still have no idea if it's as resonant or consistent as i wanted it to be but overall i think i did pretty okay with that fic anyway

fic that sprang fully formed from my mind: Seven Years

444 words of Xue Yang character study that just flowed out in like 10 minutes inspired by this piece of fanart, one of the coolest collab and writing experiences i've had because i'm a plotter so that's basically never happened to me before and has never happened to me again lol (maybe i should actively look for fanart i like to see if inspiration will strike again hmm...)

work i am proud of: all of them. genuinely. i worked hard on every single one of those fics and at least one person has enjoyed reading each one of those fics, and i dunno i just think that's really, really cool. fandom is really pretty special <3<3<3

--

tagging @ghost--houses and @giraffeter