#I have written the ONLY fics for this tag on Ao3

[liloinkoink]

[art by @martynsimp69]

hello to the, uh, 200+ new followers i've gained from trivia. im finally remembering to throw out a quick pitch for some of my fics to you lot. can i interest you in some lanterns

Lamplight AU

Lamplight a DnD-inspired fantasy renchanting/treebark au in which Martyn is a paladin-by-desperation and Ren is his god. if you've ever seen fanart of Martyn with a lantern / staff around, that's this!

Ren has lost his body and been left in the form of living fire, and Martyn has been separated from his adventuring party. the two of them are looking for a way to restore both of these, and doing a lot of arson in the interim. the fic is about 50k, most of which is "canon" storyline and the rest of which is "non-canon" ship fic. there's also plenty of cool art and even some animatics for the fic, all of which i absolutely recommend trawling thru the "lamplight au" tag for (on here or on my writing blog, @driflew, or checking the fanart tab on my blog). there are even a pair of spin off fics written by close friends of mine for desert duo and boat boys!

lamplight is written out of chronological order and uploaded whenever. work on it lately has been slow, but it's still ongoing

lamplight isnt my only fic (tho it is my favorite). i write a lot more renchanting/treebark aus, some of which ill list off here:

A Romance Route for the Doomed Villain?!?

(for the record. that title was NOT my idea). this au is also known as treesekai, or the treebark isekai dating sim parody oneshot. martyn is a normal man far too obsessed with the main antagonist of a poor-quality dating sim, the very same dating sim he's isekai's into. silly crack treated seriously parody fic as a love/hate letter to the many, many isekai webcomics ive read on webtoon originals over the years. it has a lot of rlly cool art and fic based of it, which you can find in the "treesekai" tag here or my writing blog

Treebark Week 2023

i also have a handful of oneshots from participating in every single day of treebark week around this time last year. these oneshots are for a bunch of different aus, such as a One Piece au, a beauty and the beast au, a lamplight roleswap au, a hero/villain au, a king/pirate au, and a mer au. all of these aus were developed with the help of other people (Rev for the One Piece au, and Cherri for the rest) and have other fics or art attached!

you can find bonus scenes from all of these aus, fanart or fan writing (including several page long comics or animatics), and even scenes from other aus i havent posted on ao3 over at my writing blog, @driflew, under the "lew writes" tag

uhhhhh. not sure how to wrap this one up. welcome to my home? woe treebark be upon ye

[therealsaintscully]

Thank you for the tag, lovely @crepesuzette2023! It's been nice to take some time to think about my fics!

How many works do you have on ao3?

20; 18 are Johnlock (BBC) and two, the most recent ones, are mclennon.

What’s your total word count?

306,378 (I was stunned to see this, I had no idea).

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

All are Johnlock: Mark Your Calendars, my beloved Erosion, Detours, Plus One and Turned - Part I : Queen and Country.

Do you respond to comments? Why/why not?

I try to be very good about it and respond as often as I can, but the truth is I'm a bit of an emotional wreck so when there's a rush of comments I get overwhelmed and over emotional about them, and tend to put it off for a while. I read them ALL, and I often go back and re-read them.

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

I had to refresh my memory but it's def Every Other Universe ("What if in every other universe John Watson leaves?"). It's one of my very earliest ones and I cringe a little reading it, but it's a very neat idea. Gretna Green Waltz, a mclennon fic, is very devastating if I may say so myself, and was written as such knowingly. It only reflects reality, though, and that's just as devastating.

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

I think Mark Your Calendars has the happiest ending, judging by the numbers of kudos, but for me as the writer, the cosiest, most joy-bringing ending was that of Simon (or: Love Calls You by Your Name).

Do you write crossovers?

The sadly abandoned Turned series is a crossover with Homeland.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not hate, but some less-than-considerate "when's the next chapter???" comments. I don't bother with them.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes I do :)

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Don't think so!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

I remember being asked, but I'm not sure what happened with it! Some of my fics got podficced, though: Mark Your Calendars is available as podfic, and so is I Have not Lingered (thanks to the lovely @helloliriels)

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, I'm so neurotic and particular I don't think I'm cut out for that.

What's your all-time favourite ship?

Mulder and Scully are DEFINITELY the mothership and always will be. I still sigh about them in a special, exasperated way about three times a week. I'm still here with Johnlock of course, but I'm pretty sure mclennon has been in the back of my mind for decades, but I was too haunted by other ships to fall down that rabbit hole. Look at me, though, here I am.

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

Turned, very sadly. So much so that I've considered taking it off AO3 but I'm so proud of what I did achieve with it.

What are your writing strengths?

I think my best writing moments are the ones that hook unto my real, personal experiences, not just a general idea of life situations. Erosion is based on my own personal grief and family losses, and Gretna Green Waltz is a retelling of my biggest heartache. I have noticed readers can tell when you're really putting your heart into a story.

What are your writing weaknesses?

English isn't my first language, which means I have to rely on betas which for me sadly slows me down - I want to be able to just write them and post them otherwise I overthink. I'm also a screenwriter irl, and I noticed a pattern that is another weakness - I always have banger openings, or first acts to my stories/screenplays, but sometimes I don't know the ending and I get lost and hesitant. That's why Gretna Green Waltz was SUCH a surprise - much like Junk, the song that haunts Paul throughout the fic, came to him in one piece, GGW landed in my head as a full story. I wrote it in TWO WEEKS! That NEVER happened before!

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

It really depends on how it's done. If it's 2-3 sentences and they're simple I assume the readers will Google Translate it. Jinglebell stands out as someone who did it really well in multi-chapter fic that's all about Sherlock discovering that John is a polyglot, so it can be done well.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Johnlock (for which I started writing during covid in 2020), although as a reader it was TXF, back in in 90s and early 2000s.

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

The X-Files. I've had a Scully character study in my head for years that I just can't get right.

What's your favourite fic you've written?

With Johnlock it would have to be the now-abandoned Turned, and mclennon it would be Gretna Green Waltz. I am very proud of both.

Tagging @menlove, @discordantwords, @saint-mona, @totallysilvergirl @m1ssunderstanding @slippinmickeys @kettykika78 @agrlsname @arwamachine @calaisreno @aggressivewhenstartled and anyone who sees this who wants to participate :)

[crepesuzette2023]

Thank you for the tag, @pauls1967moustache! My heart is in my fiction, and I'm happy to talk about a bit. <3

How many works do you have on ao3?

15! All within the Beatles fandom (various pairings, but with a focus on J/P).

What’s your total word count?

95,825.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

In John's Lap (early days mclennon), play me one of yours (early days, Jim POV on J/P), Brian Manages (Sole Direction) (1968; Brian lives AU/Fix it, mclennon from Brian POV), Serenade in Paul (PWP mclennon), I was the dream weaver (1968/1969 breakup, angst; John POV)

Do you respond to comments? Why/why not?

I do. I deeply appreciate it when people take the time to let me know their thoughts, or simply that they liked my story—and replying feels like completing a handshake.

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

Probably I was the dream weaver—there is some hope in the end, but it's a small flame in a dark night. But the love is there.

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

I think Brian Manages, which is only appropriate, since it's a Secret Santa gift (2023). Yes, the story is about saving Lennon/McCartney, but it's mainly about Brian, and it was important to me to give him a happy ending as well.

Do you write crossovers?

Not yet, but I would love to one day! I can't think of any, though...

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not yet.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I do write smut, and I think I tend to write smut with feelings. No specific kinks yet, except...Paul's leg fur and body hair. And his entire spritely gestalt.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware. Brrr.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Again, not that I'm aware.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes, twice, with @ohjohnnysblog. Thank you, OJ, for holding my hand during my very first fic, Storage Space, and for coming back for Serenade in Paul!

What's your all-time favourite ship?

I'm probably mainly a John/Paul fan, but I have a soft spot for Paul/Mal, and actually enjoy Paul/ any male Beatles-adjacent character, or Paul in a threesome...

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

I am determined—*determined!*—to finish my story about Old Man Paul releasing his mclennon dreams/memories on the world. I'm also determined to write a long Woodland Sprite Paul AU. One day.

What are your writing strengths?

I swear I'm not fishing for compliments, but I honestly can't say. I don't hate my writing, I'm just reluctant to analyze myself that way, you know. But if I had to pick one: I think I have the ability to remember, out of all the Beatles stuff I read and saw and thought about, the right detail at the right time while writing. Not as in listing facts, but as in: this would fit nicely here.

What are your writing weaknesses?

English isn't my first language, which in the context of Beatles fic means I'm not your best choice if you're looking for realistic Liverpool dialogue to leap off the page. I wish I had Paul's talent for mimicry...!

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

People can do what they want, but if there's entire pages in a language I can't read, and no footnotes to help me, the story isn't for me. Individual words and phrases are a different thing, of course.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

This one! Beatles! McLennon! Paul, you were my first, and I was your billionth!

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

Breaking news, I think I might try my hand at Peaky Blinders at some point...

What's your favourite fic you've written?

Similar to you, Mo, I love all of mine equally, but I have special love in my heart for the fic that lifted me out of a spell of the writing horrors this fall: Johnny Gentle and His Group, about the Silver Beetles' 1960 Scottish Tour. And, of course, Hurricaneville: leg combing McLennon in 1961!

Tagging, if you’d like @eveepe, @revollver, @m1ssunderstanding, @unchaineddaisychain , @therealsaintscully and @scurator!

[yellowocaballero]

dude psyched ur reading orv, insanely curious about ur takes

My friend @charterandbarter put it best.

ORV is pretty fascinating to me. It's really just a self-insert isekai OP webnovel, and it is nothing else. Its medium is trashy and lowbrow, and its genre is almost devoid of high art. OP isekais are 'id' stories, meant to be satisfying and fun and contain very little of substance. ORV is a very well executed OP isekai - it contains the elements of the genre that make it satisfying, it understands why people read the genre and enjoy it, it reproduces those elements very well, and it is very concerned with telling an enjoyable story. ORV really, really loves webnovels and isekais and shitty wishfuillment stories. There's a lot more to ORV than the 'fist pump' moments of kdj doing something cool or pulling a fast one on a shmuck, but those moments are the undoubtedly the point of ORV, as they are the point of all SIOC isekai OP webnovels. And that's the point of ORV.

Metanarrative stories are cheap. Neil Gaiman's written 30 and millenials love waxing philosophical about the power of narratives. These metanarratives tend to describe stories as a theoretical framework through which we understand the world and our lives. Therefore, stories are tremendously important and valuable because they contain the totality of religion, history, culture, relationships, and lives. ORV says this too. But this theory tends to land at mystifying and exalting stories on virtue of them being stories, which I think misses the point. Stories aren't special because they're stories. They're not more sacred for containing our lives. What ORV says is that stories are important, because our lives are important. I like that a lot more.

ORV says that stories are our way of ordering a disordered world. A history, culture, nation, and religion are stories. None of those stories are true or real, because histories/cultures/nations/religions are constructs - they're how we interface with reality. They're created with a purpose, told for a point, pulled together into a narrative, and are satisfying or dissatisfying based on certain factors. ORV's perspective on fiction is deeply seeped in its own nature as 'low art'. There's something very cynical and commercialized about narratives in ORV, and every narrative in ORV is being told for a quick buck or to try and spread an idea for an individual's gains. It's a very unromantic, unimpressed view of narratives and fiction. It's pretty much the only way a SIOC OP isekai webnovel like ORV can talk about it without being disingenuous. And it's remarkably raw and visceral as a result, because ORV loves SIOC OP isekai webnovels like kdj loves yjh. Fiercely, insanely, like breathing, exactly for what it is. No pretensions.

It's bizarre, because ORV is about love. It's not about love for anything that deserves it. Not for a story with a lot of literary merit, a main character who is a remotely kind or lovable person, or art itself outside of its commercial or philosophical value. kdj really, really, really fucked loved TWS - because it was there, and because it lasted 15 years, and because it was fake, and because it was what he had. He loves yjh because yjh was his only companion in a dark world. That's fiction. Fiction helped him survive, because love is a way of ordering a disordered world.

I'm still reading myself, but ORV seems to be about how we manage to live in a hard world, and how to find it within ourselves to love each other and find meaning in that hard world. I see why kdj's the protagonist: he can find merit in something for existing, and loving it for being there, and he holds onto something because he has it. He sees the value in that. He read it in a book.

TL;DR: ORV is well-executed trashy commercialized art that is so obsessed with trashy commercialized art that it's looped straight back around into being somehow the most raw and visceral depiction of love I've seen in a long time.

[copia]

Cool Cat 🔞 — 3.5k, copia/aurora, temperature play, blowjobs, copia's eternally overheating balls — more tags on ao3

She’d made her excuses to the concerned Ghouls—some of whom knew the plan, all of whom would hear the full tale later that night—and left to fetch the last few ice cubes the building had to offer. The rest, of course, had gone down her Papa’s pants.  Copia pulls his signature move. Aurora decides she can do one better.

for ghostober by @kroas-adtam — day 3: temperature play

[barrencelenny]

✨fav fics published in 2023 ✨

173 fics (+ 15 podfics) (in English) were published in the coldflash tag in 2023! Bless everybody who continues to write fic for a show that has now ended!! Here is a semi complete list of all my faves from this year in lieu of a Spotify wrapped fics edition!!!

heading off the rails by Sandrine shaw

-let Barry be drunk (for a little bit) that's what I always say! he's in his 20s he should be at the club! and that's where he is here! incredible.

Into the Speed Force by captainicecube

-ahhh I just love fics where the speed force is a character and is also Super Creepy Eldritch Horror about it

detox just to retox (i’d promise you anything) by trespresh

-coming back to this series after years since the previous instalment made me go relisten to disloyal order of water buffaloes and single handedly restarted my fob obsession so thanks for that

Seek Comfort, Find Faith by Annawry

-love when fics just have the characters be cursed by magic. it's already a superhero show set in a universe with canon magic users it's not even a reach. also love when their solution is to fuck about it.

to give hope by Aerica_Menai

-Star Trek mention gives me so much serotonin it’s not even funny + honorary mention to ‘Just Another Tuesday Amongst the Stars’ for also being about Star Trek

small favours in high doses by QLaLa

-pov outsider and teacher!barry you are everything to me. the DTR bit had me in stitches. they're both SO goddamn embarrassing my god.

There’s blood on your teeth (let me get that for you) by SoftBoyDepot

-the tag being “if you’re a fan of Leonard Snart begging this is the fic for you!” and boy did it deliver

I Won’t Ever be Too Far Away to Feel You by RedRidingStiles

-this is the only fic where I would agree with len being a cop because it’s so good. the second hand embarrassment of the initial call from Barry makes my chest hurt but hey, that just tells you how visceral the experience of reading can be lmao

So Long, Scarlet Speedster by HowToKillAVampire

-time! travel! You are everything to me! Time travellers wife-esque situations where they meeting out of sync is catnip to me I’m gobbling this fic right up

The Fair Price of a Plate of Dinner by RetroactiveCon

-hehe love fics where both Barry and len are being little shits and causing problems for Joe. Me 🤝 Len “has no interest in Christmas, but do just about anything to cause problems on purpose”

slipstream by wednesday

- competent! Barry is everything to me. Misunderstanding is delicious to me. Len not knowing how to deal with random acts of kindness is Kryptonite to me. You see how this fic is exactly up my alley

[shitouttabuck]

Buddie unintentional cuddles can power me through a whole week, so the prompt 3. Person A waking up to Person B curled up and sleeping on top of them really spoke to me <3

hiya thank u frida and @colonoscopys for sendin this one in (and an anon too!!!) very much distracted me from my wisdom tooth woes. i need to add a disclaimer that this is NOT kink it’s just sleepy drunkenness please trust me lol (rated t even!!!! not horny!!!!!!! just unbelievably stupid!!!!)

bed-sharing prompts: person A waking up to person B curled up and sleeping on top of them

put on a slow dumb show for you | 2.2k | read under cut or on ao3

Buck wakes with the same unshiftable heaviness on his chest that he gets mid-panic attack. Except—his body is incredibly confused, because while the physical pressure is bearing down, making breathing a struggle, every other cell in his body is telling him the opposite: no reason to panic, he’s warm and swaddled and safer than he’s ever been.

His brain scrambles to organise this juxtaposition of sensations. The room is dark, and not unfamiliar, even if he’s spent the night in here less than a handful of times. Eddie’s digital alarm clock is blinking at him, and Eddie’s recently mounted décor of three framed photographs on the far wall is facing him, and Eddie’s entire fucking body is draped over Buck’s and crushing the breath out of him.

Oh. Okay. The second half of his cells were right, then—he’s safe. His heart can stop racing now. And it does, a bit.

But his brain keeps reaching for puzzle pieces, laying them out for assessment before him. His mouth tastes like he licked the bottom of a public trash can, and there’s a sharp twinge behind his temple, and he feels more than a little nauseous.

That’ll be the last five tequila shots Ravi pressed into his hands pre-karaoke. Eddie’d just stumbled off stage, arm-in-arm with Karen, fresh off a You’re Still The One duet that had Karen sniffling half-way through and making grabby-hands at an amused but equally-smitten Hen. Buck had only enough time to whoop as Eddie curtsied dramatically before they were calling his name.

Buck’s good at a lot of things, but singing is not one of them. He’d whined and stammered and straight-up crawled under the table before Ravi, sweet, evil Ravi, had ducked down to join him with a tray of shots. After that is—a bit of a blur, to be honest. There was some Carly Rae Jepsen, maybe? He remembers sliding back into their booth next to Eddie and watching the rest of their friends be disgustingly romantic.

That, coupled with the best friend he’s a little unbearably in love with singing the most hopeful love song ever written, is just a recipe for Buck’s heart to get a little messy. And maybe it made him bolder with his affection than usual? Clingier, anyway. He must’ve been pretty needy for Eddie to let him crash in his bed. But Eddie’s always making sure Buck has what he needs, so that isn’t anything new. And Eddie must’ve been pretty wasted too, if this total lack of personal space is any indication.

Buck doesn’t think Eddie’ll mind waking up like this—a perk of having a physically affectionate straight best friend is that he’s mostly oblivious to a classic no homo situation. He breathes deep, weight on top of him grounding instead of suffocating, lets himself tentatively wrap an arm around Eddie to hold him steady as his chest rises with the depth of his inhale, and closes his eyes again.

Except Eddie snuffles and shifts and then jams his knee directly into Buck’s bladder. After the drinks he put away tonight? Buck’s dangerously full bladder.

“Fuck,” he squeaks, desperately trying to shift Eddie to the side. “Oh—fuck.” He clenches—everything, really, because he’s too old to wet the bed and too fond of the life he has to wet Eddie’s bed, as the aftermath of that really only involves fleeing the country.

In the end, fear of that outweighs any qualms he has about waking a peacefully slumbering Eddie, and he all but shoves him off, gasping a breath of relief when Eddie’s weight shifts from his bladder to his thighs.

“Whu—what?” Eddie slurs, scrambling up with a pinched expression. “Buck? What’s wrong?” He sits up clumsily, straddling Buck’s thighs.

“Nothing,” Buck says, voice strained. “Sorry, I’m sorry, just—really need to piss. And…” He gestures uselessly between them, face contorted in apology.

“Oh,” Eddie frowns. “Okay. Cool.”

“Cool,” Buck echoes, feeling hysterical. “Um, I’m gonna…” He tries to tug his legs free from under Eddie and Eddie clambers off obligingly.

Buck swings himself out of bed and hurries down the hall to the bathroom, cursing himself for everything from waking Eddie to ruining what could’ve been the cuddle session of his dreams to going and fucking falling in love with his best friend in the first place.

He lets the door swing shut behind him and absentmindedly lifts the toilet seat, shoving a hand into his boxers and then just about leaping a foot in the air when the door squeaks open again and Eddie shuffles over to stand behind him, resting his chin on Buck’s shoulder.

“Um,” Buck says, feeling dizzy for reasons that are only partly alcohol related. “Uh.”

“D’you need a hand?” Eddie asks sleepily.

Buck laughs nervously, frozen facing the wall with his hand down his boxers. “Uh. What?”

Eddie yawns, muffling the back-half of it into Buck’s shoulder and crowding closer, plastering himself along Buck’s back. Does Buck have alcohol poisoning? Is this the tequila version of an absinthe hallucination?

“D’you need me to hold it?” Eddie clarifies, nuzzling Buck’s shoulder gently.

Buck chokes on his own spit, body buckling as he pulls his hand out his underwear to thump his own chest. No, he skipped straight past the alcohol poisoning, he’s dead, not even a coma could dream this up.

Eddie steps back, frowning in concern when Buck finally spins to face him, eyes wide. His whole body is taut, stark contrast to the sleepy slump of Eddie’s shoulders.

“Do I—what?” he manages.

“Sorry, I wasn’t, like, trying to baby you,” Eddie says, looking unsure. “But after earlier—”

“Earlier,” Buck echoes. Eddie’s gaze has dropped to south of Buck’s navel, where his boxers have rucked up enough to leave a considerable amount of his happy trail on display. He yanks the waistband up quickly, and Eddie’s head snaps up too, cheeks dusted pink. Then his face, his perfect, beautiful face, falls.

“Wait, Buck—do you not remember? After karaoke?” he asks, taking a step back. “Oh, I—I didn’t think you were that drunk.”

“I wasn’t,” Buck insists, racking his brain, and oh.

The tequila-soaked memory swims up, Buck desperate for the toilet and stubborn about being able to get there himself, despite tripping over his stupid Bambi legs not two steps from their table. Eddie laughing and slinging an arm around him, half-carrying him to the men’s room. Buck standing in front of the urinal, frowning and arms flopping helplessly at his sides.

“Eddie,” he’d whined. “My hands aren’t working.”

Eddie’d laughed again, fond and warm, and asked if he wanted to sit in a stall.

“No,” Buck had pouted. “My zip…” He’d turned to Eddie, lopsided grin and beseeching eyes, and Eddie’d shaken his head and come to stand behind him. He’d undone Buck’s zipper and asked, “Alright?” and Buck had pouted some more.

“Can you help?” he’d asked, mortifyingly pathetic. Eddie’d raised an eyebrow and snorted, and then Buck had said, “Eddieee. These are my nice jeans. My hands don’t work. Your hands are perfect.”

Eddie’d muttered, “Might as well happen like this,” and slipped a hand into Buck’s jeans and—ah. Held his dick while he peed.

“Oh,” Buck says now, voice small. “Fuck, Eds, I’m sorry.”

Eddie narrows his eyes, somewhat blearily. “Why? I wouldn’t have if I didn’t want to.”

“Yeah, but I know—I don’t think we’re on the same page. I don’t—” Buck closes his eyes and presses the heels of his palms into them. “I don’t think it meant the same thing for us.”

“Oh,” Eddie’s face is suddenly unreadable. He crosses his arms over his chest and takes another step back. Buck wants to cry. He basically tricked his best friend into touching him—doesn’t matter if Eddie did it platonically, because drunk or not, genuinely needing help to piss or not, Buck’s pretty sure his own intentions were not all that innocent.

“I’m so sorry, Eds,” he says. “I was drunk as hell—that’s not an excuse, but it won’t happen again. I—I’ll be better at keeping it to myself. The last thing I ever want is to make you feel uncomfortable around me.”

Something passes over Eddie’s face. “Wait,” he says slowly, “you asked me to hold your dick as friends?” There’s an uncertain lilt to the question, like he truly doesn’t know what the answer is anymore.

“Uh,” Buck says. He could use the confusion to wrestle the cat back into the bag and then ship said bag one-way to Nicaragua, but Eddie’s looking a little lost, arms crossed in his black vest and boxers and mismatched socks. Buck can’t be the cause of that. “No. I’m sorry. I wasn’t—I swear I wasn’t trying to trick you. I was just really drunk.”

“Okay,” Eddie says, stepping forward again and reaching out to tug Buck in by the hem of his t-shirt. “What’s the problem then?” He slides a warm hand under Buck’s shirt, smoothing it across his skin.

Buck inhales sharply, blood rushing to his brain and cheeks and cock so quickly he reaches for the porcelain toilet tank behind him to steady himself. “W-wait. Were you holding my dick as friends?”

Eddie blinks at him, disbelief slowly overtaking the slack sleepiness of his facial muscles. “You thought—is that generally something your friends do for you?”

“No, but…” Buck falters. “Why—why did you, then? Why else would you…”

“I was holding your dick because I want to kiss it,” Eddie snaps, and then claps a hand over his mouth, eyes wide and horrified. “I want to kiss you,” he amends. “You, not your—I mean, sure, that too, but. Can you say something.”

The many million times Buck has daydreamed and fantasised and wished for this, he’s never anticipated fuzzy patches in his memory of it. But these things are clear: waking up with Eddie plastered to him like he wants to touch Buck at every possible point, Eddie following him in here unprompted and pressing up against him with unchecked affection, because even in his sleepy state Eddie just wants to make sure Buck has what he needs, even if what he needs is help holding his dick in a context that’s soft and sleepy and miles from sexual.

“You came in here to hold my dick,” he says, grin spreading.

Eddie’s cheeks are so rosy, rosier than they’d been with the flush of alcohol, even. “I came in here because I didn’t want your uncoordinated drunk ass pissing all over my bathroom.”

“Aw, Eds, you romantic,” Buck says, stepping closer. Eddie sighs exasperatedly, tilting his face up expectantly anyway. But, oh—

“Did we kiss already?” Buck asks, heart dropping. “Do I not remember?”

Eddie brings up one large palm to rub Buck’s sternum gently. “Nah. Didn’t seem like the right time. I kinda—I wanted to do that not-drunk.”

“Oh,” Buck says, sagging with relief. “Good.” Eddie gives him a sleepy, wonky smile, and Buck says, “I’m not drunk now.”

Eddie huffs a laugh, stepping back and patting Buck’s chest. “Nope, just hungover and harbouring the most toxic tequila-flavoured morning breath anyone’s ever had.”

“Don’t forget desperate to pee,” Buck grins. “You gonna help a guy out?” He flaps his arms limply, batting his lashes at Eddie.

Eddie grumbles unintelligibly, lips twitching with amusement as he bodily rearranges Buck to face the toilet again. Buck melts back into the cradle of his arms, safe and sleepy and sated enough that his dick doesn’t do any more than he needs it to right now, even with Eddie’s warm hand wrapped around it.

They stumble back to bed, Buck belatedly remembering he’s not washed his hands but deciding not to care if Eddie doesn’t, and when Buck flops down, Eddie’s right back on top of him.

Buck wheezes as the breath’s punched out of his lungs, and it becomes a laugh, and this time he wraps both arms firmly around Eddie to hold him tight. Eddie exhales into the crook of his neck, breath hot and a little gross, and then lifts his head to press a close-mouthed kiss to the corner of Buck’s lips.

“This one doesn’t count,” he murmurs against Buck’s cheek. “I just can’t believe you thought I wanted to hold your dick as friends, so. It’s an almost-kiss. An IOU. Tomorrow I’m gonna kiss you till one of us passes out. Not as friends.”

“As enemies,” Buck whispers solemnly and then grunts when Eddie digs an elbow into his ribs. “As anything you want, s’long as I can keep the kissing and the dick-holding and—this.” He tightens his arms around Eddie, feeling his chest reverberate against Buck’s as he laughs.

“Deal,” he agrees, nestling closer, messy hair getting in Buck’s mouth as he shifts. “But just so you know what I want—and I don’t mean to skip ahead—though I guess we’re doing the regular dating bases all out of order anyway—” He sighs, deep and satisfied as he gets comfortable, and says, “I’m ready to have and to dick-hold you every day of the week, you know?”

Buck didn’t know, but now he does, and in eleven months’ time when he and Eddie are saying these words in front of their friends and family, sans penis, not one single person can blame him for lurching forward and kissing the adoring smirk off Eddie’s face miles before poor ordained Bobby gives him the go-ahead. Doing true love in order is overrated, anyway.

[autistic-katara]

there r fics that make u insane (so amazingly good it’s removed ur sanity) and then there’s fics that make u insane (you need to fistfight the author for how they did a specific thing that caused u to rant for hours)

[grapehyasynth]

just made myself emotional imagining an au where wille is immortal but chooses to have himself made mortal so that he can live a human lifetime with simon 🥲

[littlespoonevan]

.

[milflewis]

do you think writers get enough credit and notes and stuff on here?

on tumblr dot com? lol nearly died laffin there thank u

[hopelesshawks]

Nothing like reading a fic on ao3 and suddenly getting heavy sadomasochist and impact play in almost all of the smut scenes even though the smut tags were only “dom/sub”, “soft dom [insert character]”, and “sub [insert character]” to make me appreciate how well tagged/warned shit on tumblr is

[m1smatched-starsigns]

Have any warrior cats fanfic recommendations?

I sure do! And always feel free to send me fic recs as well!

also knows how to slander, by Consumptive_Sphinx

ashes, by @mallowstep

bend the definition of faith, by @solacefruit

Burn Up the Light, by Lorwell

Choices, by Jeffrey Dahmer

dog days, by @goosewhisker

Fire and Water: Book One, by @warriorsfireandwater

i'll come back to you someday soon myself, by @mallowstep

Incogitance, by Kiwikirk

in the name of all things good and holy, by @creed-of-cats

i’ve met the myth hanging over you, by @kudossi

Meteor Shower, by Storm that Twists in Spiral

prayers to medea, by @creed-of-cats

The Challenge, by Jeffrey Dahmer

Thorns, by aer-of-ice

turn to dust all that I adore, by @solacefruit

Ringing Bell, by Hissing Willows

Snatched: The Story of Snowkit, by Prin Pardus

Snowmelt, by @kudossi

Under the Storm Soaked Sky, by Silentwinds

[blue-cat-shitposts]

The homoerotic rivalry between the only two authors in the tag on AO3 (it's entirely one-sided)

[two-calicos-in-a-trenchcoat]

Ok so im probably gonna do it anyway but I dont make my own polls often and im curious so

[harrowharkwife]

swear to god if i open a fanfic ONE MORE TIME only to be greeted with an author's note saying "i asked chatgpt to tell me a story about-" i am going to go fucking NUCLEAR