#I might just start writing the fic when ever I get stuck on my current one

[your-official-gingerartist]

I’ve had this wip sitting in my folders for a while- it’s something I might have happen in another fic I want to write after I’m finished with my current one!

I just like the idea of maynott keeps coming back somehow everyone constantly runs into him.

[ladadiida]

𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 as much as you wanted to stay by his side, you couldn't bear the thought of watching him fall in love with other women while you're stuck at the kitchen washing dishes and measuring ingredients. so you dreamt of leaving, of traveling to different islands to share your lovely songs and tunes; but the more your desire to leave grows, the more sanji finds himself drowning in your warmth.

or,

you and sanji over the years, wherein five times you tried to leave him and the one time you finally did, despite his refusal to let you go.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 musician reader, 5 + 1 things, pining, unrequited love, not actually unrequited love, heavy (kind of) angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 HERE IT IS! the response to the sneak peek was crazy, and so i rushed to get this done. i only watched the live action so beware of minor mistakes if you ever saw one. english is also not my first language and you are welcome to correct me anytime for any grammatical errors. title is a lyric from the last time by taylor swift ft. gary lightbody. this fic is also posted in ao3 with its full summary and WITH A BONUS CHAPTER. enjoy reading!

𝐰𝐜 11.3k

"There you are."

Your soapy, wet hands almost dropped the ceramic plate you were currently washing in the dirty kitchen sink as soon as you heard a familiar smooth and honeyed voice. Abruptly turning off the sink so that the sound of his approaching footsteps were clear to your ears, you wiped the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand before turning your body towards him.

He was carrying a stack of plates, a fresh batch to add to the pile you had to wash, with an obnoxious yet handsome smile plastered on his lips. You took a deep breath to calm the growing irritation at the bottom of your stomach, reminding yourself that this was your job and you only had a couple of hours to endure until you're free to lock yourself up in your bedroom. You were particularly looking forward to writing today, and the thought of finishing the lyrics to your new song tonight slightly eased your mood. Accepting your fate, you pointed to the remaining space beside the sink.

"Place it there." You told him, albeit begrudgingly as you turn on the sink again and pour more soap on the battered sponge.

You took a mental note to ask Zeff later about buying new sponges, and if you were lucky to catch him in a good mood, you'll put in a request to get the sink fixed and cleaned. Your eyes scanned over the grime and rust around the area. If you were going to spend the rest of your life washing dishes, then you might as well get a proper kitchen sink to do so.

An amused laugh fell out of the golden haired man you grew up with, surprised at your compliance to do the job you hated. The sound nearly sent your poor heart into a dizzying whirlwind of little nuisances called emotions. "What a hardworking woman."

"I could say the same to you. It seems like you have a new record today." You said while you splashed dirtied bowls with soap water, smiling at him teasingly, "Thought you would've been kicked out of the line by now."

"The old man just can't help but to accept the fact that I am a greater cook than him." He smirked, wiping a knife with a dish cloth. Trying not to roll your eyes, you shook your head at his usual display of arrogance, yet you can't help but to grin as you began to hear scratching sounds against the floors.

"Then you better get those chopped carrots ready." You replied, and when you got to finish your sentence, the doors to the kitchen swung open, revealing the head chef.

Zeff's cold and steely eyes immediately landed on the blond. He walked towards him with a fast pace despite only having one leg, his braided mustache bouncing in each step.

"Aye, aye, aye. Why haven't you started on the carrots yet, little eggplant? Can you get any slower?" He scolded, loud enough for the whole staff to hear, but none of them even flinched. You returned back to your plates and glasses, smiling softly. This was part of your routine everyday: to listen in their silly arguments.

However, before the younger chef can reply, you butted in, "Sanji fetched some of the plates for me. Since there's a lunch rush, I couldn't leave the kitchen."

Zeff let out a low hum. You couldn't even see Sanji's face, but you knew him well enough to know that he was smiling triumphantly, knowing that he won this time. After a few minutes of contemplating, the head chef clicked his tongue. "Don't defend him, little lass. But I'll let it slip this time. What are you waiting for, then? Start cutting them!"

"Yes, chef." Sanji answered in a jovial manner, placing the carrots on a chopping board.

Twisting the faucet lever so that the water flow from the sink is gentle and quiet, you then paid attention to their little banters every now and then. You brought up a wine glass and positioned it by your side to try to get a glimpse of the two most important men in your life. Through their reflection on the glass, you can see Zeff hunching over Sanji's knifework, nodding every time the vegetables were correctly sliced.

On the other hand, Sanji was unbothered by the head chef's observations and continued to cut the ingredients calmly. Some of the strands in his hair fell down on one side of his face, covering an eye, and most people would think that it was an unusual way of styling hair; yet it was one thing out of many that you loved the most about him.

You accepted it years ago.

You accepted the fact that you somehow fell in love with Sanji Vinsmoke along your weird journey of working in a sea restaurant full of former pirates and making music while at it. How the pesky feelings grew and wrapped themselves around your aching heart, you didn't know. Maybe it was when he learned to cook your favorite food and gave it to you afterwards, or the way his crystal blue eyes reminded you of snowflakes every winter.

Or maybe it was when he pulled your hair out of jealousy the moment he learned that Zeff would be taking in another child in his care, but brushed it and even braided it after the latter cleared the misunderstanding. Maybe it was when he supported you in your dreams and told you they weren't silly, maybe it was when he fought off drunk men that were trying to hit on you. Or maybe it was the way his voice would drop an octave lower whenever he asks you for a favor. The list could go on and on and you still wouldn't know the reason why. It doesn't matter anyway. You tripped, you fell, and now you're pining.

Drying off the last of the plates, you washed your own hands after and patted them dry on your skirt. You were the last one to leave the kitchen, the other staff already back in their quarters after a long, exhausting day of cooking. You fixed the signature blue bandana tied in your hair then went on your way towards the upper deck.

You weren't blessed with a talent in cooking, so you offered to do chores instead. Washing the dishes, cleaning the restaurant, and doing the laundry were few of the things you do in the Baratie. You can't say that you enjoy it, but you were beyond grateful that Zeff gave you a chance despite his opposition to let a woman work inside his restaurant.

As you were about to go to the newly laundered clothes you hung on a thin wire earlier that morning, you heard two voices speaking. You also smelled cigarette smoke wafting through the air, and you only knew one person who could be smoking at this hour. Your breath hitched in anticipation.

"You bringing a woman to your bed again, Sanji?" The other person asked playfully, but there was a hint of disbelief in his voice. You carefully took a peek so you won't accidentally reveal yourself and be accused of eavesdropping. Two people came into view with their backs facing you.

"Now, what are you talking about, Patty? I am a gentleman. I only had a nice chat with the lovely lady and escorted her back to her ship." Sanji interjected, a cigarette hanging on his lips.

Patty huffed. "I didn't know that chatting included kiss marks on jawlines."

This caused Sanji to laugh and say, "Not my fault she was charmed by my food."

"The boss man ain't gonna like it when he finds out about this."

"He's not gonna find out." Sanji assured him, wiping off the said kiss mark on his jaw. You stared at him as he did so, and you pitied the woman who planted that kiss, knowing she was just one of the many beautiful ladies Sanji had flirted with before. However, a tinge of pain in your chest said otherwise, taunting you that it was not pity you're feeling, but foul jealousy.

"Why don't you look for more decent women, eh? How about 'little lass' for a change?" Patty suddenly suggested.

It was like someone had hit your stomach with one of the metal pans in the kitchen with the way it lurched in surprise and nervousness. Your heartbeat started to quicken the longer you waited for his response, making your grip on your skirt tighter. In moments like these, you allowed yourself to hope, to wish that he saw something in you and that he finds you beautiful and lovely enough to be the person standing by his side.

But his answer made all that hope crumble down into nothing but dust.

"I don't see her that way." Sanji said after a long stretch of silence, taking a long drag from the cigarette then releasing the smoke in a single breath.

Ah.

You blinked repeatedly, trying to keep the tears from forming. It's always been like this, so why can't you get used to it? Taking a deep breath, you gulped away the knot forming in your throat and decided to leave. You can grab the clothes later.

"You're too kind for him." Someone behind you spoke, making you jump and tense up. Turning around, you saw Zeff looking at you with an unreadable emotion in his eyes and his hands on his hips, almost like he knew your secret. Of course he does. He always sees everything.

You stumbled on your words. "Sir?"

"That boy is always up to something." He began, switching his attention to Sanji. "One minute he's stubbornly immature in the kitchen, and the next he'll be a thirsty man staring at women like they're liquid booze."

Clearing your throat, you forced a smile.

"Well, he can be a lot sometimes." You agreed, remembering the days when the two of you would fight over irrelevant matters. Then you chuckled and continued, "But he's kind. He's gentle, and lovely, like a freshly made poem you keep repeating in your head. But then he's also confusing, hot-headed, and reckless. He's like the sea, isn't he? Calm yet wrapped with mystery, dangerous yet beautiful..."

You trailed off, an unbearable heat rising up your cheeks and neck once you slowly began to realize that you just ranted out your feelings to the head chef. You glanced at him with wide eyes, preparing to see a disgusted look on his face; however, Zeff didn't appear to be repulsed by your little speech. In fact, the corners of his lips were slightly quirked up.

"But I cannot swim. If I were to drown, he wouldn't save me." You quickly added, hoping to shut down the topic.

He sighed. "You will meet someone who deserves you as much as you deserve them, little lass." He simply said. He then laid his hand out, and on his palm was a little box poorly tied with a ribbon. "Here, for you."

Altnough you were a bit confused at the random gift, you accepted it and cradled the box to your chest. "I'll be okay, Zeff." You insisted, grinning cheekily. "When I become famous, I'll sing my songs here in Baratie, and people would flood the restaurant to hear my singing. And to eat your food too, of course."

The head chef nodded, relief flooding his expression. "I look forward to that." He said while awkwardly returning your smile.

That night, when you were sure that everyone in the Baratie was asleep, you opened the loose floorboard on the floors of your bedroom and grabbed the wooden box you kept hidden for a long time now. You opened the lid and began counting the Berry you saved for the past few months.

Tomorrow was the perfect day to leave.

You just can't stay here. Yes, you had a roof over your head, delicious food to eat everyday, and clean clothes to wear but you were so miserable. This wasn't the life you wanted. You wish to go out there, sing your heart out, and fall in love with someone who actually loves you back.

A knock on your door made you freeze. You held your breath as the person on the other side continued to knock a few more times. "You awake?"

Pain surged through your veins, your chest twisting in agony. Sanji.

"You didn't come down for dinner. I guess you're too tired, hmm?" He said, his muffled voice gentle, and the sound almost prompted you to stand up and open the door for him. But you dug your fingernails in your palms and resisted, because you can't just let this opportunity pass by.

You heard a brief clinking sound before Sanji spoke again, "Sweet dreams, ange."

Once his footsteps faded away, you cautiously moved towards your door and opened it as quietly as you can. There, on the floor, was a small plate with a slice of your favorite desert: angel's food cake, topped with fresh cream and strawberries.

You bent down and saw a note beside the plate. And when you got to read the contents of the note, you burst into tears and sobs that wracked down your entire body.

Happy Birthday

— S.

You ate the cake with tears silently falling down your cheeks, and that was the first time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.

⸻ • ⸻

Today was the day, and you won't allow anyone to ruin it for you.

You had saved enough Berries to travel around the world and sustain yourself for the upcoming months. Your notebook containing the lyrics of the songs you wrote laid open on top of your bed as you spent all night revising them while planning out an itinerary. Then you'll find a place to settle in, a stable job that required doing what you loved the most, and overall just be peaceful and free from pirates and chefs and pirate chefs. It was perfect.

Folded clothes surrounded you everywhere, ready to be packed in your bags. Once you finished stuffing them all in, you grabbed your treasured instrument, the one thing you couldn't live without: your guitar, which has been with you since you were a little child. It was given by your mother and you've been attached to it ever since.

It has scratches all over its wooden surface, and the strings needed some fixing occassionally, but you wouldn't trade it for the greatest treasures in the world. You ran your fingers over it, suddenly feeling like it was lacking something. Seeing the paint chipping off at the corners, you figured that it needed a little color.  You'll need lacquer, and paint if you managed to find some.

You set the guitar aside and left your bedroom to head downstairs to the kitchen. As you were about to push the doors open, a loud, angry shout made you stop in your tracks.

"I won't ever become a pathetic waiter for you!" Sanji's thunderous yells can be heard from outside. Your shoulders tensed up. It was a good thing that brunch was over and all the customers had left.

Zeff's own furious voice followed, "Leave then, for all I care! You can do anything you want, but don't you ever serve one of your shit dishes in my kitchen!"

A frown settled on your face. Their fights were a normal occurrence to you, but this one sounded more grave than usual. Crossing your arms, you stepped in closer to the entrance and hesitated whether you should go in or not. Before you could make a decision, Zeff beat you to it by pushing the doors open, rage emanating from his figure as he ignored and walked past you.

Without hesitation this time, you entered the kitchen, greeted by the sight of Sanji bowing over the counter, breathing heavily, his face covered with his hair. He didn't move an inch even as you approached him, the clacking of the heels in your boots echoing throughout the room.

Both of you were silent as you rummaged through cabinets, trying to find lacquer to cover your guitar with, while he tried his best to calm himself down after his outburst. Many cupboards later, you finally found a small can of used up lacquer, but as you started to reach for it, your hand completely stopped mid-air.

You looked over your shoulder, and found Sanji already recovered from the argument seeing that he was on the move again, preparing a cut of beef tenderloin and other ingredients he needed for tonight's dinner.

Slowly, you closed the cupboard and went closer to him. He still refused to look at you. And so you watched him place a bag of flour on the countertop, slices of cold butter, and a variety of spice bottles to season the meat with.

Sanji began to wrap twine around the beef tenderloin. You sighed, and before you could stop yourself, you grabbed a bowl and decided to help him. Your guitar can wait.

It was rare for you to cook inside the kitchen, having so little knowledge about food and how they were prepared, but you knew this recipe well. You poured two cups of flour through the sifter, followed by placing heaps of the cold butter in the mixture.

The moment you started to mix the dough for the puff pastry, Sanji quickly pointed out in a monotone voice, "You're adding too much butter."

You raised your head and glanced at him, his attention now on the meat he was searing on a skillet. You smiled, glad that he was speaking again.

"You're beginning to sound like the old man himself." You joked lightly.

His jaw clenched. "Don't compare me to that shitty geezer."

In a softer voice, you asked, "What happened?"

"The usual." He replied curtly. "Didn't approve of my dishes."

You perked up upon hearing about a dish he made himself. Sanji was talented when it comes to creating his own recipes, and sometimes, you would be the person he chooses to test them out. Every time he lets you taste them, your chest would feel warm and you wouldn't be able to sleep for days because you'll keep replaying it in your head. "What did you make this time?"

"It doesn't matter. He'll never agree to any of them."

"Maybe I can—"

"Drop it. Don't poke your nose in things you're not involved." Sanji cut you off, his hardened gaze meeting your concerned stare. You only blinked at him, straightening up.

"I see." You muttered, eyes landing on the bag of flour. You looked at him, then at the flour, then back at him. A smile began to form on your lips as a devious plan formulated itself in your brain. Sticking your hand inside the bag of flour, you took a fistful of the pillowy powder and threw it straight into his face.

Sanji jumped back, flinching and closing his eyes when some of the flour's particles managed to enter them. His jaw dropped open in surprise, hands quickly removing themselves from the skillet's handle to dust off the flour that rested on his now white hair. You tried to stifle a laugh as you watched him struggle getting the flour out.

Once he managed to clean himself, he stared straight at you and said in the calmest way possible, even if you knew deep inside that he was fuming, "What was that for?"

A high-pitched snort left your mouth. You covered it to prevent yourself from laughing.

You cleared your throat and smiled at him innocently. "Am I involved now?"

His piercing blue eyes then started to sparkle with mirth, amusement replacing the vexation previously swimming in them. He also looked to be trying to push down a smile, and that made your heart skip a beat. "You're insufferable."

He reached for the bag of flour. You squeaked and took off running, trying to escape from his attack, but he still managed to throw a small amount on you. Giggling, you ran the opposite direction to confuse him, and yet he caught up with you, throwing another round of flour. This time, it hit your cheeks, making you laugh loudly. He laughed along, pointing a finger at you because you probably looked crazy at the moment.

You tried to take the bag of flour away from him, but he just took it an as opportunity to catch your arm and grip it firmly. He pulled you into his chest, caging you completely.

With your cheeks warm and your breaths short, you tilted your head up and looked at him, noticing the way that you were both covered in flour; and not only that, you also noticed the short distance between your bodies and how your noses were almost touching. His pupils were dilated, black dominating the alluring blue shade that kept haunting your dreams. You drank in the attention he was giving you, the breathing coming out from his soft lips, and the comfortable silence that wrapped around the both of you like a safe little bubble.

"Caught you." Sanji muttered, voice deeper and huskier, making you let out a quiet sigh. His arms snaked around your waist as he leaned in closer. A million questions started to run inside your head, begging to know what this situation was and how you got into it. "Nowhere to run now, darling."

A slamming of doors shattered the secret moment you shared, and you immediately pulled away from each other. You pushed down your disappointment and hid it in the secret crevice in your heart as the two of you faced your intruder.

Zeff observed your flour-laden figures, his thick eyebrows scrunched together in irritation. He then demanded, voice seething and dripping with anger, "What in the hell are you two little brats doing?"

Sanji blurted out in defense, "Zeff, we—she was the one who started it!"

"And you went along with it!" You accused incredulously, grinning from ear-to-ear. Sanji grinned back, shaking his head and biting his lower lip.

"Oh, shut up before I stitch your mouths! Just by looking at you two, I already know that you snot-nosed shits are both at fault!" Zeff shouted, clicking his tongue at the sight of the half emptied flour. "Wasted them good flour for your childish fights. You're even worse than fatwits. Get out and clean the toilets!"

"Not the shitty toilets!" Sanji groaned, and you couldn't blame him for it. The bathroom area smelled revolting and the floors were always wet for some reason.

"I don't wanna hear complaints from you when you've dirtied my kitchen! Off you go!" Zeff dismissed, and you can't help but to laugh again when you saw Sanji pout like a little kid.

The head chef watched the two of you leave the kitchen together while giggling and exchanging fond looks. Patty, who also saw the whole situation unfold, suddenly appeared beside him, snickering, "I can already hear the wedding bells ringing."

Zeff took a deep, tired breath.

"Oh, they're ringing alright."

You cleaned and scrubbed the toilets the entire afternoon with the man you're in love with, flushing your plans down the drain and forgetting all about them, and that was the second time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.

⸻ • ⸻

You didn't know how you ended up in a ship full of pirates.

Well, maybe you knew. A little. But it wasn't supposed to be like this.

Your knuckles were beginning to turn white with how tight you were clenching them. A mix of emotions swirled around in your chest, namely confusion, impatience, and hesitation, pondering about whether you should be irritated at yourself or at Sanji.

The opportunity was there, handed to you like a steak on a golden platter, or a miracle that suddenly fell from the sky. The day you met Luffy and his strange pirate crew was the day you immediately realized that he was the key to your exit from the Baratie. He was friendly; a good pirate, according to his own words, so you figured he would allow you to tag along for a while until you find an island to get off to. You just had to ask for his permission and wait for his reply.

Luffy agreed. And you were ecstatic. You were finally going to leave Sanji Vinsmoke and your pathetic, unrequited feelings behind.

Or so you thought.

You watched in horror as he followed you when you boarded the Going Merry, also carrying a bag of his own. He said something along the lines of Luffy needing a cook for the journey to the Grand Line but you couldn't care less. You got here first. Why was he here?

So here you were, sitting in a corner, lonelier than ever and regretting your life decisions. You watched Luffy and his friends celebrate after defeating the pirate Arlong and saving Coco Village from his inhuman hold over its people, but Sanji and the beautiful orange haired Nami were nowhere in sight.

The thought of them being gone together at the same time left a bitter aftertaste on your tongue.

Nami. The first time you laid eyes on her, ethereal was the word that came up to your mind. With soft deep saffron locks that framed her small face and a wide blue eyed gaze, she would have the cruelest of men begging for mercy and affection at her feet.

Unfortunately, Sanji was one of those men.

Fuck, you cursed mentally, rubbing your face with your hands to try and forget about the times he flirted with her and the moments he wouldn't stop talking about her or kept asking about her favorite food or dessert or if she's into blonds. Your already battered heart doesn't need the usual reminder that he'll never see you that way, that you weren't going to experience his sweet words and his loving gazes.

You took a sharp breath. It's okay, you tell yourself over and over again until they were buried in your heart. They'll make a great pair, Sanji the cook and Nami the thief. A strong man with an equally strong woman. Yes. That makes sense.

You'll leave soon anyway, and you'll no longer have to worry about seeing them or how they were going to end up together.

And yet you can't help but to think about the things that could've been if you were the one he was in love with instead.

You were crossing your arms and hugging yourself as the crisp afternoon air was getting chilly when a hand gripping a shot glass filled with amber liquid appeared in front of you. Looking up, you saw Luffy smiling widely at you, waving the glass encouragingly.

"Come on, just one drink! Usopp poured this for you!" The captain exclaimed heartily, obviously trying to uplift your spirits and to make you feel welcomed in his crew, even though you did nothing but to guard the Going Merry while they were fighting for their lives.

You shook your head and smiled politely. "No, I don't drink. Sorry."

Luffy's smile faltered, but he recovered quickly. He nodded, setting the glass down on top of a barrel. "Well, okay." He said, then turned to Usopp, who was currently downing a whole bottle of whiskey. "Hey, where's Nami?"

"Oh, she's with the cook," Usopp replied cheekily, wiping his mouth after drinking. There was a teasing tone in his voice as he continued, "Someone's getting a boyfriend tonight!"

With that said, you reached for the shot glass that Luffy was offering you earlier, grabbed it swiftly, and poured the whole thing down your throat. The whiskey tasted unfamiliar, and it burned and made you dizzy at first taste, but it doesn't matter; as long as it can make you forget just for a little while, you were willing to drink more of the horrible beverage.

Zoro, the green haired swordsman and the captain's first mate, stared at you as if you had lost your mind, but a tinge of concern was visibly written on his face. "Woah, slow down." He warned sternly.

"I thought you didn't drink." Was all Luffy said, blinking in confusion. You chuckled tiredly.

"Now I do."

Drink after drink, glass after glass. You lost count on how many times Usopp poured whiskey for you, or how many times Zoro shook his head in disbelief. Luffy was the same old happy-go-lucky captain throughout the disaster that was starting to brew inside you, turning your brain into mush. You can barely lift your head or your fingers as you asked for another shot in an incoherent voice. Luckily, Usopp was still able to understand you, tipping the whiskey bottle yet again towards your glass.

You started to raise the glass to your lips, eager to just get severely drunk and be over with it already. However, you suddenly felt strong fingers wrap around your wrist to stop you from drinking; and when you caught sight of a familiar silver ring with Baratie's jolly roger inlaid upon it, you didn't need to look up to know who it was.

Sanji's voice was unnervingly calm as he questioned the crew, but the slight shake in his words lets you know otherwise. "Which one of you allowed her to drink?"

"No one. She took the glass and made the decision herself." Zoro drawled, challenging the chef, "The last time I checked, waiter, you were supposed to be the one responsible for her."

Sanji ignored him and turned his attention to you. He stole the shot glass away from you, then kneeled and held your hands comfortingly, smiling. "Come on, ange. It's time for you to rest now." He said quietly, yet loud enough for only you to hear.

You stubbornly shook your head repeatedly and whined loudly. "No! Don't touch me!" You cried, prying your hands away from his, "I don't like you...!"

Zoro huffed in amusement at your declaration. Sanji glared at him for a short second before looking at you again. This time, he stood and gently placed his arms under your shoulders to raise you up. Once you were standing on your feet, he swept you up and carried you bridal style with ease. Another whine escaped your lips.

"Put me down! I want another drink, please, just one more!" You pleaded while throwing weak punches on his chest. Sanji only smiled and began to lead you towards the sleeping quarters. You continued to thrash in his arms as he walked slowly and in small steps so he wouldn't drop you.

Sanji carefully set you down on your hammock. "No drinks for you until you actually learn how to take them." He told you, tucking a stray piece of your hair behind your ear. His thumb caressed the soft skin of your cheek and rubbed it in circles, noting how fast you were heating up due to the alcohol. You pouted.

"Pretty please, Sanji...please..."

He chuckled, staring at you intensely. "Maybe some other time, ange."

You went quiet, staring back at him with half-lidded eyes. Then, you crossed your arms like a child and asked, "Why do you keep calling me that?"

Sanji raised a brow. "Call you what? Ange?"

You nodded. "I don't like it."

He began to smile, the dimples on his cheeks appearing. You briefly wondered if he'd allow you to poke and feel them. "Why?"

"I don't know what it means. Is it an insult?" You wondered aloud, your eyes widening in curiosity.

A hearty and warm laugh came out from Sanji, his eyes forming half-moons as he cackled at your words like they were the biggest joke he heard in his entire life, "Oh, my dear girl, how could I possibly insult you?" He managed to speak between laughs, "It means angel. You're an angel, to me at least. My angel."

Oh.

Your lips parted in surprise. Blinking, you simply said, "You're not Sanji."

He's not Sanji. He wouldn't call you angel; you're not even sure if he found you beautiful or attractive. You wear the same old tattered dresses that Zeff bought for you a long time ago, and you didn't even bother to style your hair or put on face powder like all the other beautiful ladies do. You look nowhere near to an angel.

But Sanji only grinned. "I assure you, I am very much Sanji. The little brat who pulled your hair when we were barely eleven years old."

Your breath hitched at the thought of him remembering one of your fond memories in your childhood. "You remembered."

"Of course I remembered." He whispered, cupping your cheek one last time before he got ready to leave. He turned on his heel and was about to walk away when you spoke.

"Are you going to see her again?" You asked, and he quickly noticed how broken your voice sounded. Sanji faced you in concern and was taken aback with how deep you were frowning. He figured that you were just drunk and women tend to be different when they were intoxicated. You were no exception to that, it seemed.

"Hm?" He hummed, prompting you to elaborate further.

Tears began to form in the corners of your eyes. You shakily mumbled, "Nami...you're going to Nami, aren't you?"

Sanji froze, an icy cold rush filling up his body. A knot formed in his throat, and it continued to tighten the longer he stared at your face. You looked so hurt—like he just destroyed your beloved guitar into pieces. Your lower lips were trembling, your eyes glistening with unshed tears. For a moment, he couldn't find the courage to answer you, feeling like he could die at any second now if he answers your question.

But the answer was simple.

"Yes." He breathed out, a sharp pain stabbing through his heart.

And it only became worse when a teardrop finally rolled down your cheek. "Why?" You rasped, and Sanji didn't know that a single word can hurt this much.

He tried to give you a reassuring smile but awfully failed to do so. He started to explain, "We were just discussing something���"

"Why not me?"

Those three words coming out of your mouth felt like a final blow to his heart. He can feel himself bleed, drained of life and soul because of you and your words alone, and he let you. He let you kill him, he let you make him swim in his own guilt and he doesn't why, why, why.

More tears fell out of your angelic eyes, staining your cheeks with wet trails, and he tried to hold himself back from wiping them off. You choked out, "Why not me, Sanji? I have been asking myself that question for the past decade, and it eats my brain every night like some kind of plague, but I let it anyway. Because why? Why can't you just recognize me and appreciate me and see me? Why can't you go to me if you want to talk about your dreams, or what dish you're planning to create? Why do you have to seek solace in other women when you have me standing by your side everyday, me who is willing to listen to you and whatever you have to say?"

Angry, red rimmed eyes glared at him. Your hair strands stuck to your skin and framed your face as sweat began to form on your forehead. Teardrops clung to your wet eyelashes and your face was drenched like you just took a swim in the ocean. You were burning with fury and rage and want, struggling to breathe properly after your little rant, and Sanji thought you couldn't be more beautiful. You were so beautiful.

"Oh but I couldn't blame you for that. She's just so beautiful, so perfect, and so strong. She could give you anything you wanted and she could be anything that I never was." You hiccuped, smiling forcibly, "But in the end...I will still love you. I will always love you. I think."

You scooted closer to him, leaning in until your faces only had a few inches apart between them. You didn't notice how his lips were slightly parted in shock, nor his eyes that were starting to glisten with his own tears. "No matter where I flee to, or where I lay my heart on, or which skies I look at—it's always you, Sanji. It's always been you."

"I had been so selfless all these years, Sanji. So please, can you pretend to like me too, just for today, before I leave?" You whispered meekly, cupping his cheeks with both of your hands. Numb and completely speechless, Sanji simply gave you a single nod as a response.

You gingerly pressed your lips against his, and he immediately tasted the saltiness of your tears. But your lips were soft, as he expected from an angel like you. And so he couldn't help himself; he closed his eyes and delicately kissed you back, repeating your name in his mind like a sacred prayer and wishing to the stars above to not let the moment end.

However, you broke the kiss by losing consciousness and falling down on your hammock, knocked out and peacefully snoring.

Sanji spaced out, not moving from his position. No. It's not that he didn't want to move—he couldn't move. He couldn't feel anything except for the drumming of his heart, knocking on his chest desperately. His lips were still tingling and his ears and neck were warming up.

He gulped, loosening the collar of his shirt to cool himself down. He needed a cigarette. And a drink.

Scrambling to get up even with his trembling legs, Sanji managed to stand properly. He avoided your sleeping figure and decided to get out of the room as soon as possible. However, when he took a step forward, his foot touched a notebook lying on the floor.

Sanji bent down and took the notebook. He flipped it open, and after reading only the first page, he finally came into a conclusion.

Heartbroken, drunk, and unaware, you dozed off the rest of the afternoon. When nightfall settled on the azure horizon and dusk fell on the rough surface of the sea, you missed the chance to walk away from the crew yet again; and that was the third time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.

⸻ • ⸻

The next morning, you woke up feeling much better with only the memory of you drinking and crying yourself to sleep and nothing else. Everything was normal, and the crew began to make plans for their next adventure during breakfast.

Everything was normal, except for Sanji, who was quiet throughout the whole discussion. And of course, just like always, you were the only one who noticed his strange behavior. You tried to catch his eyes, but he looked at everywhere except you.

When he finally met your gaze, you gave him a soft smile, hoping he would smile back and everything was fine and you were just overthinking it.

He doesn't.

⸻ • ⸻

"Are you really going to leave?"

Taking your gaze away from the heart shaped cloud you spotted on the clear blue sky, you faced the person who asked the question you were dreading for some time now. Luffy was staring curiously at you, awaiting your answer. You can't help but to smile softly at the captain, whose kindness you have yet to repay.

"I believe we already talked about this, captain." You said, recalling your short conversation last night. He kept asking you if you were really sure about your decision while his eyes darted to a certain blond haired chef every time he shoots you the question. It was strange, and you felt even more suspicious when Sanji pretended not to hear your answer and even refused to glance your way.

Luffy put his hands on his hips. "You know, you're welcome to stay and be a part of my crew."

You crossed your arms, smile growing wide. "And what, pray tell, is my role? Sing battle songs and chant your names while you swing your gummy arms at pirates?" You joked playfully.

The young captain stroked his chin in deep thought, almost like he was considering your suggestion. "That's not a bad idea."

You bursted out laughing, shaking your head in disbelief, "I'll leave first thing in the morning. I told Nami to dock at a nearby island."

"What about Sanji?" He suddenly questioned, leaving you flabbergasted for a split second. You weren't prepared to hear Sanji's name after days of not talking to him properly.

Him not speaking with you wasn't a strange occurence at all; back when you were still in the Baratie, there would be days when Sanji wouldn't bother to acknowledge your presence and would completely ignore you. This would happen whenever he was extremely busy with his cooking or he had a disagreement with Zeff.

And it seemed like this was one of those days, seeing that he had been ignoring you for about a week now. Yes, you have been keeping count. Although he doesn't appear to be angry with you, the short-lived exchanges and the abrupt cut-offs before you could say anything deeply concerned you more than it should have.

You tried to rack your brains for reasons on why he was acting like this. Maybe Nami had rejected him for the hundredth time, or Zoro kept throwing insults in his direction—or maybe his cigarette packet had ran out. Maybe his kitchen knives weren't sharp anymore and he was struggling in the kitchen.

Should you ask him? Should you go to him and demand him to tell you what's wrong?

You pressed your lips together. It sounded like the worst idea you've thought of so far. You convinced yourself that Sanji was fine and he'd be back to normal in no time; there would no need to talk to him.

"What about him?" You faltered, chuckling to ease the tension in your body.

"You care for each other." Luffy explained bluntly and matter-of-factly, "What does he think about you leaving?"

A shaky sigh made its way out of your lips. How will you tell the captain that his cook has been avoiding you like you were some kind of rotten fish these days?

"I..." You stammered, gathering the courage to lie to Luffy even if you thought it would be the gravest sin you could commit, "He...agrees. Yeah. No need to worry."

Luffy grinned, but it didn't look normal at all. You winced in embarrassment. He knew that you were lying and was totally unconvinced.

Luckily, he didn't voice it out. He only nodded and said, "Great! Oh, I have an idea! Why don't you sing for us before we part ways? Think of it as a farewell party for the crew."

Hearing the pure and genuine excitement dripping from his voice, you couldn't turn him down. It was a good idea too, and now that you thought about it, you haven't performed for them yet. "Sure." You agreed, shrugging.

He raised his fist up in the air and cheered. You smiled, watching as he shouted for his crewmates' names to come down and listen to you sing. You prepared yourself for an impromptu performance, making sure that your guitar was properly tuned and your voice was clear enough to give you the best version of your singing. Sitting on top of a barrel, you faced your audience of four, all their eager eyes watching your every move.

As you struck the first chord to your song, you tried hard not to think that Sanji wasn't there to watch you sing the song you secretly dedicate to him.

In the kitchen, Sanji busied himself by plating the food that he'll serve to his fellow crew mates for dinner. He grabbed a large plate and placed the chicken drumsticks that his captain favored, but Luffy wasn't the one in his mind when he cooked those. Looking at the food, he wondered if you would love them too.

He shook his thoughts off and took the plate with him outside. Approaching the crew, his steps slowed down when he heard a familiar singing voice and a melodic tune of a guitar.

Sanji almost dropped the plate.

It was you. Of course it was you, you were the only one he knew who had a voice like that. It was you, and you were singing with a lovely smile painted on your sweet lips, the very same lips that touched his a few days ago, resulting in him not getting a wink of sleep every night. The beam of the sunset right behind you colored your hair in the different shades of the sky as the dulcet-filled notes you made echoed throughout the vast sea. For a moment, he was worried that you were going to attract ferocious sea beasts with your angelic voice and steal you away from him.

He could hear his blood pound in his ears the longer he observed you from afar. You looked happy. Happier than you were when you stayed with him and Zeff. His chest tightened, knowing that you leaving and go on adventures on your own was probably the best decision you could make, even if that means leaving him too.

You were finishing up your song by the time you saw Sanji standing behind Usopp, silently listening. He met your gaze, and for the first time ever, you couldn't read his mind. His expression was blank as you stared at each other, and as you opened your mouth to say something, he cut you off.

"Dinner's ready." Sanji announced shortly, setting down the plate in front of Luffy and then walked away without saying another word.

That was your final straw. You immediately put down your guitar and followed him into the kitchen. You didn't care about how you felt Nami's watchful eyes on you as you went after him, nor how Luffy was scarfing down the dinner and was definitely going to finish it all before you could take a bite; you just chased the blond with determination oozing out of you.

You roughly pushed the door open and found Sanji washing the pans he used for cooking. He glanced at you briefly then quickly looked away after. This irritated you even more as you demanded, "Is there something bothering you?"

"You should eat before the food gets cold." He said with an empty voice.

"Sanji!"

He stiffened. You rarely raised your voice at anyone. Sighing in defeat, he dried off his hands and fully faced you.

Your eyes were sharper than his knives, cutting straight into his soul. "I've known you for a long time now, do you think I don't notice whenever you have a problem?" You glowered, taking a step closer to him, "You have a problem. What is it?"

It happened fast. His hand landed on the small of your back and pulled you to his chest, and the other was placed on top of your cheek, and in a single motion, Sanji captured your lips with his. You gasped in the kiss, your heart dropping to the soles of your feet when he tilted his face to deepen it. Your fingers tightly grasped the sleeves of his shirt for support as he passionately moved his lips against yours. A pleasant heat ran down your spine, your whole body tingling and warming up. You were simply drowning. There was no other way to describe it, and it was only caused by his fervent kisses.

Sanji pulled away, resting your forehead on top of yours, and you took it as an opportunity to breathe in air that you lost. "You are the problem." He murmured lowly, eyes darting down to your swollen lips. Confused and lightheaded, you didn't get the chance to retort.

"Ever since that night, ange, you occupy my thoughts. You gave me a taste of your lips and you didn't even remember the next day. Do you know how that feels, hm?" He said, pecking your lips once again. You made a noise in the back of your throat, turning your head sideways so he couldn't kiss you anymore, but he took your chin and hungrily connected both of your lips.

He spoke between kisses, "You torture me. Ever since I read those songs you wrote about me in that little notebook of yours, you torture me with your presence."

That was when you snapped out of your daze. With all the force you could muster, you placed your hands on his chest and pushed him away. Sanji stepped back, surprised at your reaction.

Without giving him a chance to ask you anything, you ran off and left the kitchen, slamming the door loudly so you wouldn't hear him calling your name and be tempted to go back in his arms again.

You arrived in the sleeping quarters, locking the door behind you. You were sure that the others would understand you needing your alone time. Once you made sure you were on your own, your body collapsed altogether, your back sliding down against the door as you panted heavily.

He knows, was all you could think about. He knows about the songs. He knows about your feelings.

Well, you finally got your answer to your previous question, but a more complicated one replaced it. With trembling hands, your fingers raised themselves to your lips, touching its surface. You hated the way that you still felt his warmth on top of them.

A lone tear slid down the side of your nose. He was cruel. Sanji was cruel.

You didn't come out of that room for days, refusing to talk to anyone as you gathered your scrambled throughts and pulled yourself back together, and that was the fourth time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.

⸻ • ⸻

A stack of books, most of them being a collection of maps compiled in one, rested beside you while you flipped through the pages of the one you chose among them.

Nami has been lending you her books ever since you shut yourself out from the crew. You ignored all of them and only let Nami in, hoping that she'll be able to understand you; and she did. She was a good listener. Although you weren't particularly close with each other, you trusted her and told her everything: your dreams, your problems, your feelings, and Sanji. In return, she confided in you too.

"Here. So you can finally decide on where you will go to," You recall her saying while she handed you her collection of world map books, "and to distract yourself, of course."

"You're too kind, Nami." You said in admiration. Maybe this is why Sanji was enamored with her. She was a beauty inside and out.

Nami shrugged, yet she was smiling. "Just helping a fellow woman out."

The books did take your mind off the stubborn blond haired man that was still resting inside your heart, even if it was only for a fleeting moment. You tried to search for islands that will be suitable for you to start your career, narrowing some of them down into choices, but your eyes wil always lead back to where the Baratie was stationed.

You leaned back against your chair, letting your head hit the wall with a soft thud as you released a sigh of frustration. Not only will you need to prepare yourself for a journey all alone, but you also have to talk to Sanji sooner or later, whether you like it or not. The kiss distracted you more than the books Nami gave you. You think of it in the morning and dream of it at night, and it only got worse every time you remembered that he kissed you like he loved you.

Relaxing in your seat, you closed the book and listened to the silence.

The Going Merry docked for a quick trip to a market to gather fresh ingredients for food. Sanji will be gone for the meantime and you were free to roam around the ship without his heated stare boring holes in your skin.

But the peace was ruined by rushed footsteps and Usopp breaking into the room, almost destroying the door with his brute force. You frowned, standing up on alert when you saw how nervous he looked.

"Sanji's injured!" He exclaimed, which got your brow raising, knowing that he had a long history of lying to people. However, he forcibly pulled Sanji inside, and you were greeted by the sight of a bruised man, whose lips were bleeding and cheeks were starting to yellow.

You immediately sprang into action. You took the first aid kit you packed in your bag and grabbed his arm, making him sit down on your chair.

"How did you get into a fight in just a span of ten minutes?" You asked in irritation, wetting a cloth with saltwater to wipe off the blood on his lips.

Sanji grunted, tensing up when you took a hold of his face and dabbed on his lip using the cloth. "Some petty vendor was selling overpriced onions, and they weren't even the best of quality."

You stopped for a minute, glaring at him. "So you decided to punch them instead of talking it over?"

He only huffed in reply. Pursing your lips in annoyance, you continued to treat his wounds in silence, noticing him flinching and wincing in pain whenever you compress the bruised area with ice. "Who's being petty now?" You scolded impatiently, "Stay still."

The only sound that filled the room was you hastily rummaging your kit trying to find an ointment and an awkward silence that made you want to jump into the sea and never swim back to the surface. You unscrewed the lid of the jar of ointment and scooped some with your finger, looking at Sanji as you did so. He looked back at you quietly, and you tried hard not to think about the fact that you have to touch his lips in order for you to apply it.

It seemed like he realized that too, glancing down at the dollop of ointment on top of your finger, then back to you. You just gave him a small, uneasy smile, showing him that you weren't uncomfortable even though you were, and shyly took a step forward.

As gently as you could, you spread the ointment on the wounded area on his lips, reminding yourself to not be distracted on how soft they looked.

"A busted lip because of overpriced ingredients...it almost feels like you're doing this on purpose so I wouldn't get the chance to leave you." You half-heartedly joked to lighten up the atmosphere. However, you were greeted by nothing, not even a smart comeback or a funny joke from the blond. You hesitantly observed his reaction, and saw that he was grim and serious, guilt swimming in his beryl blue eyes.

The realization began to sink in.

Oh.

You should've known from the start. Sanji was a great fighter; he wouldn't be injured in the first place. "Sanji..."

Sanji took your wrist and held on it tightly. Your breath hitched, only then realizing how much you missed his touch, his warm, gentle, and loving touch.

"Let me go." You weakly said, even though deep down, you didn't want him to.

"Tell me you're not in love with me." He said, sounding utterly desperate that it almost made you fall down to your knees, "Tell me, and I'll let you go."

When you didn't answer, he stood up and cupped your cheeks with both of his hands. He pleaded, "Look at me. Look into my eyes and tell me you don't love me."

"Please don't do this." You whispered in pain as you tearfully shook your head.

"Stay. Please, stay." Sanji begged, pressing his forehead against yours, "What can I do to make you stay? Tell me. I'll do anything. Do I need to kneel? To beg for your forgiveness? Tell me what you want. I'll do anything in my power to make you the happiest woman in all of East Blue. Just please, don't leave."

"I can't." You answered, closing your eyes, a few tears streaming down your cheeks. You hate the way he was making this so hard for you.

He only continued, "Hate me, curse me, shout at me, if you must. Anything but you leaving me. Or do you want to make me yours? Then I am letting you. Whatever you want, mon ange—my heart, my soul, my attention, they're all yours. I'm all yours."

"No..."

"The crew will be incomplete without you." Sanji insisted in anguish.

"I have dreams, Sanji. Just like you and the rest of the crew." You explained softly, placing your own hands on top of his in attempt to comfort him and relieve him from his confusion.

However, he was persistent, "You can achieve your dreams without leaving. You can stay, and I will support you in everything you do. You're better off staying with me—with us."

You said firmly, "I will not spend the rest of my life doing what I don't want."

"Even with me by your side?"

A few second pass before you finally reply, "I'd be miserable."

Pain flashed on his face, making you want to take back your own words, yet you remained strong and unyielding. Sanji took a deep breath and stepped away from you, saying, "I'd rather have you miserable here than go out there and encounter ruthless pirates."

The statement quickly irritated you, frowning at him deeply. "You think I'll have problems with pirates when I've been serving them for years?"

"Oh, darling, you wouldn't be able to say that once you've encountered worse ones, with bounties higher than you could ever imagine." He snapped, voice raising with each word.

"I can manage on my own!" You bit back frustratingly, your tears evaporating into anger.

Sanji scowled at you, impatiently running his fingers through his hair. "You can't fight!" He shouted, voice breaking in the process, and with it, your heart too. It shattered like glass and the shards landed and pierced through your lungs, rendering you breathless. Your eyes widened, mouth dropping open in shock.

Seeing your expression, he immediately snapped back to reality, regret writing itself on his face. You shook your head in disbelief and let out a humorless laugh, "Are you telling me that I'm weak?"

"I didn't say that." Sanji quickly said in a hushed manner.

"But you're implying it!" You choked, still can't believe that he doesn't trust you. He doesn't trust you enough to accomplish your dreams on your own, and that he was not confident that you'll succeed without him by your side.

You wanted to ask him about the passionate kiss you two shared, about his loving gestures that confused the hell out of you, about his fresh bruises that he received on purpose so that he can get you to stay, and why he did all of that. You needed confirmation. But the question that left you was, "What am I to you?"

Sanji stayed quiet, and your heart broke again once more. Deciding that this was the last time he breaks it, you walked away and left him alone to tend to his own injuries.

He lit up a cigarette as he listened to your fading footsteps. A single teardrop fell down from his eye the moment he placed the cigarette between his lips, and all he could think about was that you hurt more than the bruises on his cheeks.

You packed your bags and spoke with Nami, telling her that you were ready, and that was the fifth time you tried to leave Sanji Vinsmoke—and tomorrow, you'll finally succeed.

⸻ • ⸻

The sun had just risen, and the early morning breeze smelled of the ocean, the calming sound of waves filling your ears. It was one of those days when the sky was clear and the sunlight wasn't harsh but pleasantly warm on your skin, making it the perfect day to start working on a new song and strum on your guitar for the melody.

But today was different. You were standing on the first step of the ship's staircase that leads to a docking station and a wooden walkway towards an unfamiliar island that was soon to be your new home. Your fingers clenched on the strap of your bag, finding this moment to be surreal. You have tried many times to leave, and here it was, right on the palms of your hands.

"So. This is it, huh?" Your trance broke as Nami commented beside you. She was the only one to bid you farewell and watch you leave, since the others were still asleep. You thought of Sanji and how he looked like when he was sleeping, staring at his handsome features so you can memorize them and implant it in your mind. He was your first love; you didn't want to forget him.

You smiled. "Thank you, Nami." You said earnestly, "I would've liked to spend more time with you. It's tiring to speak to men sometimes, don't you think?"

She laughed. "Yeah." Then, she caged you in her arms and hugged you tightly, surprising you for a second before you laughed too and returned the hug. "Stay safe out there."

"I will."

"So you planned to leave? Without saying goodbye?" A new voice interrupted, breaking the hug you and Nami both shared. You swiveled to look behind you, and there stood Sanji, appearing to have just woken up, with the strands of his blond hair sticking up in different directions. You observed his dejected expression, the downward tilt of the corners of his lips, and the glistening of his tired eyes. You stared at his crumpled suit and his crooked necktie. Despite how messy he looked, he will always be perfect to you.

You walked forward and looked at him fondly, with your eyes full of so much love reserved for him and him only. "Thought it would hurt less." You said, raising your hands to touch his hair and brush it down, "And I was right. How can I leave now when you're standing in front of me?"

He sighed shakily as he felt your soft fingers threading through his hair. "Then don't." He whispered. You only smiled at him. He didn't smile back, but that didn't stop you from taking both of his hands and caressing his knuckles using your thumb.

"Every night, I'll look at the moon and think of you. I'll tell my stories, sing my songs, and whisper my secrets to it. Just like what you and me would do when we were little." You told him softly and endearingly, "Would you be so kind as to look at the moon too and think of me?"

Sanji's eyebrows were scrunched together in agony, muttering, "I can't make you stay, can I?"

When you didn't answer, he just nodded his head, understanding what you wanted to stay. He forced a smile and tightly squeezed your hands. "I'm sorry."

"I'm yours." You answered, placing a soft kiss on the back of his hands. After letting your lips linger on his skin for a while, you slowly let go, and with one last glance at his face, you stepped back and made your way downstairs to the docking area, leaving before you could change your mind.

Sanji watched you go. While you walked away from the Going Merry, from the crew, and from him, not once did you look back. He just watched as you went farther away and became smaller in the distance, until you blended in with the crowd and you were just another person in a sea of people. And then you were gone.

It was the sixth time you tried to leave Sanji Vinsmoke, and this time, you finally did.

⸻ • ⸻

The red velvet curtains began to draw in front of you, gently falling back down on the stage as you said your final good-byes to your audience for tonight, a bouquet of roses cradled in your arms while you blew delicate kisses towards them. You can still hear their loud cheering and clapping even as you retreated to your personal room backstage.

A middle-aged woman greeted you inside when you stepped in the room and closed the door behind you, whistling. "There she is, our talented rising star!"

You only laughed at the silly nickname, setting the bouquet of roses that one of the people gave you in tonight's show on top of your vanity table. "You exaggerate, Madam. I have only performed two shows in your beautiful theater."

The madam, who was the owner of the theater you were currently working in, shook her head in disagreement. "And those two shows are sold out!" She informed you proudly, placing her hands on your shoulders, "Let me know if you want to add more, you are welcome to perform here anytime."

"I'll think about it." You replied, smiling. The madam patted your shoulder twice before she left you alone, humming happily to herself. You huffed in amusement, fully aware that she doesn't appreciate your talents at all, but only cared for the money.

Regardless of that, you were happy. It has been a couple of years since you left the Strawhat Pirates and pursued your dreams all on your own, and you've been traveling to different islands across the seas to perform. You never had a permanent home; being a musician meant going to many places from time to time to share and spread out your music.

Yet you can't help but miss life on the sea.

You missed washing dishes on the Baratie and the late night conversations you had with Zeff. You missed Luffy and his weird antics, Usopp and his jokes, Zoro and his blunt comments, and Nami and her kindness.

You missed Sanji and everything that he was.

You stared at your reflection in the vanity mirror on your desk. Your hair was pinned neatly, you had make-up on and you were dressed fancily for your performance. Years ago, you wouldn't look like this. It was hard to believe how much you've grown and changed, but these days, you felt like you wanted your old self back. Slowly, you took the itchy pins off your hair, and cleaned your face with warm water and a cloth. You replaced your dress in a more comfortable one and went outside.

Looking up at the night sky, you saw a bright full moon with no stars in sight. It was just the moon and its beauty, illuminating the pitch black sky with its glow. You silently watched it, a smile growing on your lips as you felt a tug on your heart.

"I wonder what you're up to, Sanji." You thought aloud, cheeks heating up at the memory of your first love and his golden hair and his contagious smiles. Then, to your surprise, a voice spoke unexpectedly.

"Well, I am fortuitous to have met such a beautiful angel."

You froze. No one referred to you as angel except for one.

Sanji.

As you turned around, he was already walking towards you. And there you both were, bathing under the moonlight, with him grinning at you mischievously and you looking at him lovingly.  You didn't know how he found you, but what mattered was that he searched for you and now he was here, and he was still making your heart beat fast in your chest just like all those years ago.

How the pesky feelings stayed and wrapped themselves around your aching heart, you didn't know. But maybe it was because he was standing in front of you, and the way his next words made you run into his open arms and kiss him until you were both breathless,

"There you are, ange."

taglist part 1 @angel-luv3r @appalost @chexmixtrys @nimtano @sparklyphantom @natalieisfreeziing @reallysparklychaos @maydaylovex @johnnysactualgf @mochamei @kisumisumi @ttokyocat @mypurplewinee @rosaliinnn @nonniecannie @court-jester-stuff @detectivelucy07 @megumiif @untitledandrandom @erin-the-king @fangeekkk @nikolaevna-art @candesstuff @chaoticevilbakugo

[dearlyd3parted]

𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚖: 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜 | 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝙻𝚎𝚎 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

🕸️syp: Mark Lee is many things; A 2nd year college student, A stressed Stark Industries intern, Your friendly neighborhood Spiderman, and also your childhood friend. He's also a secret fifth thing, a loser hopeless romantic who's been in love with you for years. Due to his inexperience, it takes him two failed attempts at a confession until the third is finally a charm. 🕸️mark lee x fem!reader - (127 centered) biggest idiots in love u will ever read 🕸️feat: a bit of nct dream, xiaojun from wayv, and yunjin from lsrfm cause mother 🕸️word count: total 26.2k 🕸️warnings: some profanity (mark is very stressed ok), descriptions of injuries (blood, cuts, bruises), light angst, mostly just misunderstandings and such, brief mention of smoking, eventual smut 🕸️authors note: ok i genuinely had so much fun writing this one i love mark so much and i live to push the spidermark agenda. i don't follow any exact mcu plot. just inspired more heavily by tom holland cinmenatic universe! also he has glasses in this fic, i know canonically spiderman has perfect vision but idc i have a nerd agenda to push ;p i've only proofread once, so pls bear with any typos. to my current followers who were waiting on me to post, i spent a lot of time on this one so that is why content is delayed, but i hope it makes up for it! im doing more piwon next! i really like this one and hope u do too. pls reblog and like and follow for more ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ 🕸️chapter index: chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 tags🏷:

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟷: 𝙵𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚎𝚝𝚛𝚢 - wc: 8.3k

Mark Lee has always been sure of his identity.

It seems that since birth he has had a very firm grasp on himself, what his personality is like, what he wanted in his future, what he wanted in the very moment. Mark has never been a mystery to him.

When he was in the 6th grade, he knew he was a buzzing personality. He knew he was a jokester, always smiling, always laughing, even when the moment didn't call for it. He knew that he loved to talk about anything, really. He could spend hours talking an unsuspecting classmate's ear off about his favorite subjects (math and english, never science), the video game he just played, or some cool new thing one of his favorite superheroes did.

However, because of his...as one would put it in kind terms, passion for life and anything that excited him slightly, he had a hard time making friends. Sure, he had some, the same handful of guys who had been perpetually stuck with each other since elementary school, but making new ones was the problem.

It was at that point that Mark realized he is also a people pleaser from time to time. Especially at 12 years old when everyone is dying to fit in. So, in order to get some of his peers to find him...not annoying, he tried to mimic their personalities.

Mark amped up the snarky-ness and the sassiness, changed his look to what could best replicate what was popular at the time, and started talking about Tony Stark maybe 30% less (That really was the best he could do).

And surprisingly....it worked. For a bit there, he was thinking he might slowly climb his way up from whimsical nerd to just some dude. God, he wanted to be just some dude so badly.

Then one day he saw you.

You sat alone on the end of a lunch table, a pizza lunchable in front of you as you clicked away on your DSI, seemingly playing...Pokémon? Of course, adorned with a Star Wars backpack sat right next to you. He shuddered a bit at the sight, but not negatively. He just really wished that was him instead of what he was currently doing, trailing behind the kids who play basketball after school with an immense 'cool kid' vibe to them.

Mark took immediate note at how they snickered at you, the word nerd being thrown around being most obviously about you. As he gripped onto his tray, a sly smile masking an internal panic on his face, he figured it was a perfect time to prove himself as he followed his pack leaders.

Mark cleared his throat as he approached you, ready to strike. "Nice backpack, Young Jedi." He snickered, his voice as condescending as he could make it out to be when addressing a really cool backpack.

You paused your game with a swiftness, swiveling around to look at him, not an ounce of offense on your face. Without a beat, your deadbeat expression bounced back.

"Nice bowl cut, loser.”

Needless to say, Mark didn’t make the cut for just some dude. He would be staying a talkative and giggly nerd for a while, he was sure of that fact about himself. He knew that was him. It was okay, though, because he didn’t want friends who he couldn't be himself around. After that whole facade, he knew he wasn’t the nonchalant cool guy he tried to resonate with.

He also knew that after a thorough and heavy apology his friend Taeyong had made him give you, he had just met someone who he resonated with a lot more.

He knew he was your new friend.

(To which you only agreed because of his Captain America themed backpack. Besides, your jab at his bowl cut that truly was awful made it even.)

A year later, he was certain that you were his best friend. Maybe it was a bit selfish that he had so many best friends, you including his flock of seven other boys who had just become stuck to each other.

But…there was something different about you. Like you were his ultra best friend, if thats a thing. After the initial awkwardness of your first meeting, the friendship only soared. Helping each other with homework, rewatching ‘Star Wars: Revenge of The Sith’ for the 30th time, fangirling over Tony Stark and the avengers. He never thought he would meet a girl that understood him so well, and in turn who he understood, too.

Until the 7th grade, he couldn’t quite place what it was that was so different. You were integrated into his group of friends, he didn’t treat you any differently and you didn’t with him. Yet, for some reason, he was happier when you were around, and even happier when it was only the two of you.

His heart was a mixture of things every time he made a joke and you laughed because of him. It had also dawned on him that even if you and him had your many similarities, you were still more reserved and cautious when it came to other people. Despite that, you seemed comfortable around him, enough to confide in him and share whatever you wanted to.

So, when you confided in him tearfully that the boy you had wanted to attend the spring formal with was going with another girl, as your best friend he decided to step in and take you himself to cheer you up.

Seeing you a bit happier at the outcome of that night, wearing a navy blue dress he remembers oh so vividly as the colorful lights seemed to be illuminating your smile, his heart sank to his stomach. That was when it had hit him what had been so different about you.

Mark knew that he liked you. He liked you terribly.

He knew he liked you as he danced with you, his hands tenaciously at your shoulders as you thanked him with a smile for not letting you come alone. He knew he liked ever since you started to feel ‘different’ in the best way possible, and he knew he would keep liking you for a long, long time.

And that is exactly what he did.

Middle school passed by in a flash, and he never liked you any less. In fact it was impossible to not like you more. You, who was always on his side through all his phases, who brought an extra sandwich from home to share with him at lunch, who gifted him the missing star wars comic in his collection for his birthday, who defended him against all the snickers and teases of the rest of the friend group, who was the cutest girl he would ever be blessed to see, who joined the academic decathlon in highschool so he wouldn’t be alone. How could he not crush on you harder?

Just because he liked you so much, didn’t mean that he rushed to act on it. Quite honestly, when he first realized all these feelings were heavy to hold and the only way to let go of them was to confess, he had a nervous breakdown. What would he even say? What would you say? How would he even explain this to you? You were always so headstrong and focused, would a measly schoolboy crush even appeal to you? Was this the end of the world?

Once he calmed down, however, he realized that there was no rush to explain the feelings he himself couldn’t even muster to say aloud. All that mattered is that you were in his life, and he was in yours. And he was pretty damn content with that. Maybe in the future, if he still felt so much and he had gotten much more confident, he’ll be able to tell you. At the moment, 15-year-old and sophomore in highschool Mark had no rush at all.

And then, he was bit by a spider.

Of course, it wasn’t a normal spider. Because god forbid anything ever be normal in Mark’s life. One morning, he woke up with body muscle his lanky limbs did not have when he went to sleep and a strength that broke his desk bunk bed in half. If it wasn’t obvious something was off, his glasses stuck on his hand for the better part of an hour sure confirmed it.

Yup, Mark knew it. He had turned into some sort of a Spiderman.

At least, that’s what he called it. It’s what he decided to go by when a very confused passerby asked him who he was as Mark saved his bike from a thief. A quick sew of some blue and red fabric with a poorly stitched on symbol, and he was putting these powers to test.

He had a good run making a name for himself on Youtube under this ‘Spiderman’ pseudonym. It was a blissful first few months, figuring out the basics of his powers, slamming into the wall maybe only a handful of times, fighting neighborhood crime in a heroic way that he used to only be able to gawk at the avengers doing.

However, ignorance is bliss. Mark couldn’t possibly be ignorant to the way that he was making enemies who didn’t like the interference with their crimes all over queens, and fast. He especially couldn’t ignore it when a particular petty group of criminals had hit rookie Spiderman with everything they had, and the bliss ended as he limped away his first gruesome fight he had managed to win with his life.

As he dragged his way across the city, whimpering and crying as the universe decided to make his first terrible day on the job even worse with rain, he was aware of how roughed up he was, he needed help.

He couldn’t just go to his Aunt and tell her her 15 year old nephew had been putting his life in danger for the last few months. He couldn’t go to the hospital and risk exposing the identity he tried so hard to protect. He certainly couldn’t let his rowdy friends know by showing up to Taeyong’s apartment.

So he found himself barely making it up to your fire escape, knocking with the last bit of strength he had to get your attention from your Calculus homework to his figure in the window. He was limp and a mess of “i’m sorry”’s and “i don’t know where to go”’s as you pulled him in, speechless at the sight in front of you.

You didn’t get angry, you weren’t annoyed, you didn’t ask him a million questions. You only bandaged his wounds, and offered open arms as he cried and cried until he couldn’t anymore.

As Spiderman Mark gripped your hoodie, his tears staining it with salt, he knew he felt safe. God, he always did with you.

He knew that he loved you. Because honestly, wasn’t it impossible not to?

The revelation that he was in love with you didn’t come with much shock, if he asked 6th grade Mark if he knew this day would come, the answer would without any doubt be a yes.

It did come at a turning point in his life, however. He met Tony Stark, got suited up with Stark Industry gear that made every nerd crevice in his mind vibrate, fought with the avengers, nearly joined the avengers, accidentally revealed himself to his aunt, and then his other 7 friends, fought against avenger-level-threat villains, and quickly rose as one of the most famous heroes around.

Throughout everything, he never loved you any less. And even through his trials and tribulations as he settled in this neighborhood Spiderman identity, you never strayed from being his best friend. He didn’t need anything else to feel like the luckiest man in the world.

Except, maybe an answer to the dying question he wanted to know for years and years. Was he just your best friend? Or has he always been something more? On the few times you’ve told him something along the lines of, ‘I will never care about anyone like I do about you, Mark’, (And no, he actually didn’t memorize that one word for word) Did it also mean what he has always meant, or was he just dear to you in the friendliest way possible?

Although Mark was older, 18 years old and graduating from highschool, he still had that same mindset he had as an angsty new teenager. His feelings for you only weighed more and more in tons and tons over the years, especially since he was able to name it as love. Yet, he found it hard to explain why he still hadn’t felt any rush to act on them.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, even if anyone who would hear his logic might think it was. As he watched you say goodbye to peers and friends at graduation from a distance, happiest as ever in your cap and gown as you were set to attend MIT with him in the fall, he knew it wasn’t because he didn’t want to. He dreamt of it some nights, actually. He hadn’t known you his whole life, but for some reason, it felt like you were always there. When he had that stupid bowl cut, when he tried out for the soccer team and made a fool of himself, when he got his first B on an english paper, when he got bit by that spider and bit off more than he could chew, when he was applying for college and decided to major in computer science and engineering, you were there.

As you pranced back to him as you finished saying your farewells, he couldn’t help but think it would always be this way. You had him, and he had you. The night you both graduated, you both sat on a rooftop, staring at queens under you as you shared a pizza. Naturally, it felt like you would always be there. You were just natural.

Despite that, It had been nearly seven years since he first met you. Nearly seven years since he told himself he would confess when the time was right, when he was more confident and hopefully a little bigger.

He was definitely taller, and involuntarily grew some muscle. Luckily, his hair hadn’t seen the after effects of a bowl cut in years. His voice didn’t squeak when he talked to you or any girl for that matter, and he liked to think he was 10% less of a nerd. At least, enough to be charming when it counted.

So as you both left highschool for your first year at NYU, he decided he checked a sufficient amount of boxes to go for it. However, it was clearly going to be harder said than done. Just seeing you the night after he made up his mind that the time has finally come, his forehead was slick with nervous sweat and somehow he walked right into a pole. Your questioning about why his ‘Mark tingle’ hadn’t worked–which is what you had named his 6th spider-sense–didn’t help not one bit.

Truth is, it was terrifying. He didn’t know why. He had fought against intergalactic villains and catched runaway trains with his bare hands. Yet a simple ‘I’m madly in love with you’ was too much for him to handle.

Mark composed himself, running it through his mind during every late night patrol. He was going to do it, and soon. First, he had to get over the initial fear. After that, love sparks would fly.

Soon turned into weeks later, then months, and then an entire year. Before Mark could blink, it was the 2nd year of university and the ‘initial’ fear seemed to be a perpetual one.

In his defense, the first year of college was very busy. The both of you were buried in the books, biochemical and computer science engineering not being easy majors, and of course trying to maintain extracurriculars. Mark with his Stark Industries internship, that both was still a pseudonym for Spiderman duties, and this time around an actual internship he had begged Mr. Stark for. You, with the school's Debate team and interning wherever it counted and wherever paid.

Mark would be a liar if he said there was absolutely no time, though. A plus to the both of you being the unassuming and socially awkward nerds all throughout the years meant that you didn’t peak in highschool. University could be a time to blossom, be more social, enjoy the journey a little more, maybe attend a party or two.

Watching you in this beaming light as you entered a new chapter of your life, an enigma shining more than ever, it only intimidated Mark even more. Which is why his after-graduation-confession plans had stretched out a whole year later.

Mark never felt like he was losing you, though. Losing his mind? Most definitely, but not you. You were closer than ever, Mark was content.

Telling himself that he had you on his side through everything, and he would continue to have just that is what helped him sleep at night. He would stop being a coward eventually, and just like the movies, the sun would shine a halo around you, his eyes would meet yours, and he could finally confess. Time, there was lots of it, right?

Wrong. Again, it seemed like Mark’s reality was always perpetually shifting or going the opposite direction that he was aiming for.

Today, he found himself standing outside of one of the many NYU buildings, waiting for your cell biology class to be done with. It had become a habit to him to make sure you got back to your apartment safely after classes that ran into the evening, claiming that as the resident neighborhood spiderman, it was his duty to escort you. Even though in reality, you were capable of getting around just fine, and this was just another excuse for Mark to spend even more time with you.

He was wiping down his glasses when he heard the door open and you walked out, tired out from a full day of classes. He wasted no time putting on his glasses back on, making sure he caught every bit of you. Mark always thought you looked best like this, hair down and tousled in comfy clothes, today a cardigan and some baggy jeans, the night making your features even softer.

You smiled despite your weariness, waving at him, and Mark smiled right back. “Hi, Mark.” you said, walking up to him as you clutched onto your bag.

Mark reached for it, slinging it over his shoulders, the heaviness of textbooks and all your other supplies being nothing to him. “Y/n! How was your day?” He asked enthusiastically.

You stared at him with those eyes you get, sighing as you looked down. “It was alright…I got assigned two group projects, though. I mean, two, seriously? In the first month of school?” You complained and talked with your hands like you always did when you were angry, as you both started walking, Mark listening to every word.

Mark inhaled sharply, making a face at the thought. “Yikes. Two on the same day is some luck. My operating systems professor said we would have a group project soon as well, but at least we get to choose our partners.”

You pouted up at him, finding your situation unfair. “We can’t even have that luxury. I don’t know any of the people I was assigned with.” You complained with a frustrated sigh.

Mark sympathized with you, knowing how unfortunate that must be, but when you looked so expressive and adorable as you complained, it was hard for his heart to stay still in its cage. “That really does sound like it sucks. I hope they aren’t rude or some slackers.”

You shook your head looking off at the city in front of you, when all Mark could do was look at you. “I don’t think they will be too bad. The group project for cell bio, I got this one guy…Xiaojun, I think, for a partner. He seems like he’ll be a big help.”

Mark’s head tilted, his glasses tilting in the process. “Mm, really? How so?”

You looked at Mark with a pursed smile, shrugging at the recollection. “He’s very receptive, first to offer to help with research. Gave me his number so I could call him ‘if anything’, so I gave him mine as well. He’s nice, a little too nice maybe, but nice.”

Mark felt an uncomfortable lump in his throat, he hadn’t heard of you and any other guy in ages. He didn’t want to. As he took in what you had said, recognizing the name of a pretty well-known school heartthrob, exchanging numbers with him, and even the whispered fact of him being too nice, he didn’t like it. Not one bit. Surely it couldn’t be that this Xiaojun was…taking an interest in you?

Mark had to make sure as he forced down the lump that prevented him from speaking. “Ah…so sounds like…he’s flirting with you.”

You both came to a stop at an intersection. You pondered your words as Mark stared at you, reading your every visible thought. “It seems like it. He’s a nice guy but I'm not interested if that is the case…because…” You said, your words trailing off as you looked at Mark with a distant look in your eye and shrugged after a moment. “I guess, I don’t have a reason to not be interested. Should at least hear the guy out, I suppose.”

Mark’s heart sank to the floor in record speeds. And he’s jumped off of buildings. As the light turned from the orange hand to the walking man, he stalled a few seconds, shaking off this new dread as he jogged a little to match your pace. “H-hear him out? So you…you like him?”

You giggled a bit, shaking your head with a smile. “I didn’t say that. I just met the guy. All I’m saying is I’ve always said no, no, no, and no. Maybe it’s time to move…Uh, I mean, to stop saying no so quickly.”

All Mark could process in that sentence is that there were others that you had to say no to. As he looked down at the sidewalk he was strolling on, his world view seemed to crack a bit. He had always known how amazing you were. Your eyes an ocean he wanted to sail. Your hair framing you in the most flattering way. Your sarcasm and humor that brightens his day. Your drive. Your kindness. Your intelligence. Your generosity. Should he keep going? He could, he could spend days listing everything that was right in you. It had just never dawned on him that other hormonal and sappy guys like him could do the same and act on it. Worse, that you could entertain it.

“As in…look for someone?” Mark asked, his voice sounding pathetic beyond his control.

You sighed, staring off at the distance, not wanting to look at him. “I don’t know…it’s just…something I've been thinking about. It feels like I'm overdue to try my hand at this whole love thing…”

Overdue. Overdue. Is that really how you felt? Mark supposes you have both gone your whole lives without dating someone. At this point in your lives, that can be considered a while. Mark had never felt like he was lacking in that category, love, because he had so much of it for you. You didn’t know that, though, and now you felt overdue.

Mark’s palms were sweaty as he gripped the straps of both of your bags. “There’s…no rush, though, right...?” He questioned, trying to preach his own stupid, stupid anthem.

You nodded, a bit solemnly if he had to add, looking up at him with a strange mix of a smile and pout. “You’re right. No rush.”

Mark sighed a breath of relief. A relief that didn’t last long as you spoke up again. “But there’s also no reason to push it away anymore.”

Mark had so many questions, such as why were you set on ‘pushing it away’ until now, where the hell did this Xiaojun come from, how it can be possible that a certainty he awoke with this morning can crumble a mere few hours later, and how he could possible be so stupid, stupid, stupid, cowardly, and naive?

Mark inhaled a sharp breath, trying to stabilize himself. He wanted to freak out, he wanted so badly to bring the both of you to a halt and grab your hands, begging for you to not even think about this. However, that would also be stupid, and if he showed that he was anything short of understanding during this conversation, you would never share anything like this with him again. Then, he would be completely in the dark about your apparently beginning love life.

“If…that’s what you want.”

Stupid. Idiot. Buffon.

There it was again, that forced smile that Mark was too busy internally panicking to notice himself. “He hasn’t even said anything that confirms the suspicion. But…I’ll see. I’ll figure out what it is that I want.”

Mark nodded, trying to play it cool as his fingernails dug into his palm. He didn’t even notice that you had arrived at the train station, standing in front of the train that took you home.

You looked up at him, smiling softly as you reached up to flick hair out of his face. It didn’t help the melting pot that was his current emotions. “You texted early that you wanted to get an early patrol. You should go get ready. I’ll be okay from here.”

Mark normally would have shaken his head no immediately, insisting that he take you all the way to your front door. Today however, he felt as if the longer he spent around you, the closer he was to losing it. “You sure? I really don’t mind-” is all he managed to say as you cut him off.

“Positive. I can join you on comms later tonight. Gotta get some homework done first.” You said, looking back as the train started to pull into a stop. “You go get ready. And eat something or you’ll be off your game. Last time you went out hungry you nearly crashed in an office window.”

Mark chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck, thinking to himself that of course only you could make him laugh and make him want to yell in such a short span. “Aye-aye captain, I’ll do that. You better go before the train leaves.”

You nodded, taking back your bag from him and waving. “I’ll come to yours tomorrow. We have o-chem in the morning. We can swing there?”

Mark smiled, as best as he could by this point, nodding. “Yeah, we’ll swing there. Text me when you’re home.”

You shot a thumbs up as the train doors opened and you rushed to get in. “I will, bye Mark! Careful!”

His heart warmed, you had always told him to be careful, no matter the hundreds and hundreds of times he must have gone out now. It wasn’t enough to make him unball his fists though. “Bye, Y/n.” He said back, missing its added sense of joy.

He watched as you walked in, taking a seat and looking back at him once. He didn’t even have the guts to stand there and watch you leave, looking back twice before he was sprinting up the subway stairs and running down the street.

The slight chill in the night felt even colder as he ran, wind blowing smack in his face, but he kept running until he found an alleyway, running deep into it until he was out of sight, away from any pedestrian eyes. The cuff Mr. Stark had given him came in handy at times like these, when all he wanted to do was be suited up as soon as he could, His heart wouldn’t stop racing as the press of a button had him in his full spider-suit. He tightened his backpack onto himself, and he was off, shooting himself up in the air, and running across a ledge before throwing himself off.

He didn’t even react as he reached closer to the ground than normal, shooting a web to divert his fall just in time. Even when he was swinging way too fast, weaving through buildings and poles and cars. All he could think about you and your words. When he woke up in the morning, he thought he had time, lots of it. Now as dusk falls over and the cars underneath him couldn’t be as loud as his thoughts, he finds out he doesn’t. Or perhaps he did, and now it had run out on him.

.   　˚ ✭　 * ✦　. ‧₊˚🕷‧₊˚　.　✦　˚ .˚　 ✭　.

“So, the last thing I said was, ‘I’ll figure out what it is that I want,’ and then we got to the train station.” You finished explaining to your roommate, Yunjin, as she sat on the opposite side of the couch.

You had only met Yunjin last year, but she already felt like one of your best friends you had ever made because of how easy it was to tell her all of your problems. Of course, you already had one of those, Mark Lee, who had been wreaking havoc in your life since you had first caused him to become the laughingstock of the popular kids back in 6th grade. But you couldn’t tell him absolutely all of your problems. Especially the biggest one, that you had always had a strange sense of infatuation for him that you expected to go away, yet here you were.

If you had to pinpoint when it began, you would say when he knocked on your window sophomore year of high school, bloodied and in the famous original spiderman costume. Mark had always been loveable, long before he got bit by that spider. It was what you liked most about him, his ability to always see the positive, to always somehow wear a smile and a laugh. In someone like that, it takes the utmost trust for them to allow the most vulnerable parts of themselves to be seen.

So, it wasn’t the suit that made you realize what you had felt. Even if you had been a major Spiderman fan and the revelation was only a little life changing, that was the last thing on your mind. He was hurt, he was scared, and he needed someone, and his first thought was you.

You thought it was a fluke, feeling so much for someone so unexpected. Surely, it was bound to go away. Yet, it didn’t. The feeling was nagging and adamant, just like Mark, and refused to let go.

After some time, you came to terms with the fact that nothing about it was unexpected at all. Since you met Mark, you spent every waking moment with him. Going to your first hero convention, building the Lego death star you got for your birthday, the school trip to Venice, middle school dances, high school dances, all of it was Mark, Mark, Mark, Mark. Every memory, the good and bad, that held a special place in your heart had Mark. How was he not to become special as well?

You thought about coming straight out with it, hoping to get closure or acceptance or anything that would help maim the feeling of overflowing love. However, Mark wasn’t just Mark anymore, he was Spiderman. While the latter didn’t matter much to you, it had become a part of who he was. With his great powers, came great responsibility. Not just that, but it seemed like him almost dying every other weekend had become his new reality. While it was stressful watching Mark go through all of that, even as you became his girl-in-the-chair of sorts to help him on patrols, you couldn’t imagine how stressful it was for Mark for himself. It felt unfair to throw a confession on top of everything he already had to deal with.

So, you decided if anything were to happen between you two, Mark would have to initiate it.

While you may have kept it better under wraps, Mark always wore his emotions on his sleeves. It would take an outstanding idiot to not notice the way he acted around you. The way his ears go pink before his cheeks do, the way on occasion he’ll forget to respond as he stares in a trance, or he’ll fumble with whatever object he has in his hand. Mark had always had those awkward, loser-ish tendencies, but it was undeniable at how they seemed to be at their worst whenever you were around.

He had to have at least entertained the idea. So, therefore it was just a waiting game. When Spiderman was ready to take that leap, so were you.

You waited, and waited, waited, and waited, and waited some more. Suddenly, the second year of university came, and you were still waiting.

Honestly, it had brought you down that no moves were made as you graduated high school. Needless to say, that the fact he was still radio silent when entering university only made you more discouraged and had you wondering if your premonition was wrong after all.

Your new roommate turned friend, however, was quick to catch onto your gloominess, and almost immediately connected the dots that it was about Mark.

Since you caught her up on everything she needed to know, while of course keeping Mark’s secret locked away, she had become a trusted person to confide in. As opposed to your clear inexperience, Yunjin had more experience on her love life resume, and was always at bay with advice.

Her recent advice being something that she believed would speed up the process, to display your availability, and to flaunt that you were planning on using it. In whatever form that may be.

So, when Xiaojun exchanged numbers with you, (and in your defense, was indeed being a little too friendly) it was the perfect opportunity to test the theory.

That is how you found yourself here, playing the conversation back and forth amongst each other to try and decipher if it worked.

Yunjin groaned, hand coming down to smack the pillow in her lap. “‘I’ll figure out what it is that I want.’ You guys are impossible. It is crystal clear what you both want.” She said with a shake of her head. “Is that really all he said? ‘If that’s what you want?’ How did he…I don’t know, was he panicky or shaky or anything?”

You thought about it with a sigh, shrugging. “I mean, I guess he was a little. At the stop walk he…almost forgot to move? But he had just come from that Stark internship, he’s always like that after it. Like a deer in headlights.”

Yunjin sighed as well, biting her bottom lip in thought. “Okay, this is good. This is a good start. We’ll just have to ramp up the Xiaojun thing and eventually, he’ll be forced to crack.”

You smiled, a little bittersweetly, your hands clenched together. “I hope it plays out like that…otherwise all this for nothing.”

Yunjin could read you like a book, a superpower of hers Mark didn’t always have, ironically. “Not for nothing. You know, you could always say something.”

You looked up at her with a knowing look, shaking your head with a sigh. “You know I can’t. He’s got too much to deal with, he’s literally sp…super busy. With school and the stark internship. I just can’t.”

Yunjin nodded as she stood up, taking the memo not to pry any further. “Alright, I hope this works then, for the sake of you both.” She said as she grabbed your face in her hands jokingly. “Seriously. I’m sick of looking at it.”

You swatted her hand away, chuckling. You hoped it worked too. With your whole being.

.   　˚ ✭　 * ✦　. ‧₊˚🕷‧₊˚　.　✦　˚ .˚　 ✭　.

Mark landed on the roof of his apartment that night exhausted from a full day of work followed by an evening patrol. Crime was quiet lately, with his biggest cases today being a measly shoplifter and a cat stuck in a tree. The type of quiet that came before a storm. Mark had too much on his mind to think about that, however. All of which involves you.

He deactivated his suit and found himself back in regular clothes, waltzing his way down the rooftop access stairs, all the way to his apartment on the 6th floor. 

He came in fidgety and anything but calm, seemingly too pumped with adrenaline and emotion to be as tired as he usually is after days like this.

Mark had the opportunity to be roommates with two of his friends, Johnny and Doyoung. Luckily for him and unluckily for his friend, Johnny was sitting on the couch, a gaming controller in his hands as he looked up to see the ball of nervousness make its way into the once mellow apartment. “Hey, Mark.” Johnny greeted, not talking his eyes off the TV. “You wanna play overwatch? Doyoung’s out for the night.”

Mark could barely register the question, his backpack slamming on the kitchen table as he plopped down on the couch next to Johnny. “What? No, no. I’m good, don’t wanna play. I have to talk to you, though.”

Johnny sighed, not taking his eyes off the screen. If his hands weren’t so busy, he’d probably grab his head too. The subject was painfully obvious. “What’s up?”

Mark sat back, looking at the ceiling. “Y/n. I messed up. So bad, dude.”

Johnny nodded, trying to feign surprise. “I see. How is she by the way? I haven’t seen her in a while.”

Mark ran his hand through his hair, shooting the back of Johnny’s head a look at the inappropriate question during his time of stress. “She’s fine, dude. She told me something today.” Mark said, taking a deep breath to begin his rant. “You know, I told you��I’m confessing soon. Or I’m planning to. When I work up to it. I thought…shit. I’m so stupid. I thought she’d wait for me. She doesn’t even know, but I thought she’d wait. Apparently, there’s this dumb guy she has a group project with. Xiaojun, that’s his name. He’s flirting with her, I’m assuming. They exchanged numbers and everything.”

Johnny listened with his eyes a little narrowed, nodding in understanding. “Ah. I know that guy. He’s pretty cool.”

The look on Mark’s face couldn’t be described as anything less than offended. “He is arguably not. I mean…I know people must try to hit on her and stuff, but she was like…all cryptic. Saying things like ‘maybe it’s time to not say no so quickly’ and ‘I’m overdue at this love thing.’ She says she doesn’t like him but…she’s…she’s looking to date right? It’s gotta mean that.”

Johnny raised his eyebrows, fighting the urge to keep playing his game or turn and start shaking Mark by his shoulders. “Listen, Mark. Y/n’s a nice girl, full package, great person, gorgeous as well, and a single college student. Dating is kinda what you do. Especially with someone like Xiaojun.”

Mark’s world couldn’t crumble any faster. If only Doyoung was there instead, he at least would have broken the news a little nicer. “Oh, God. Shit. What…what do I do? She’s gonna start...dating.” He muttered with his hands on his face, glasses pushing up to his head.

Johnny stifled a groan. “Mark, you do what you should’ve done years ago. You just tell her, man.”

Mark didn’t like that answer. Of course, it was the only one that made sense, but he was hoping that someone would have some sort of miracle solution. “You say that like it’s easy.”

“Shouldn’t it be though?” Johnny retorted. “I mean, you’ve known this girl nearly half of your life. She cares about you a lot. You see it, I see it, we all see it. A confession isn’t going to break a bond like this, it can’t. You’ve got to know by now that what you’ve got is stronger than that.”

In the eyes of Mark, what Johnny said went against what every imagined worst-case scenario told him, even if logically it had made sense. You weren’t the type of person to cause a grand thing or make Mark feel bad about something so small. That was inherently the problem, however. Nothing about this was small. Small is the last word he would use to describe how he feels about you. You wouldn’t consider small something that could fill every ocean on earth's surface and then some. “How do I even tell her? I can’t just say ‘I’m in love with you.’” Mark argued, his voice sounding more and more pathetic.

Johnny used a brief moment to shoot a look at Mark, his eyes going back to the TV as he finally put his controller down and completely discarded the match he was in, leaning on his knees. “At this point, that’s exactly what you say. Your problem is that you’re trying to make it too grand, too perfect. Y/n has never been the type to be a stickler for that. It doesn’t matter how you do it, it won’t affect the outcome. If the feelings are there, which if you ask me, I think they are, then they’re there. Plain and simple.” 

Mark felt a lot of things, but at that moment defeat was most prominent. He had been imagining for years how he would confess to you. In one fantasy he would buy a billboard in Times Square and take you to see it, or perhaps he would learn the guitar and write you a song. He could make his own advent calendar, buy you a present everyday each specifically curated to your wants, and on the final day, a beautiful piece of jewelry. You deserved nothing short of perfect, but now he had to ask himself if that was really what you would want, or if he’s trying to pull every string he can for it to work in his favor. 

“So, what do I do…?” Mark said quietly, running his hand through dark hair.

“I just told you. Just tell her. Write her a poem, take her to dinner, or just straight up come out with it. Just tell her, as soon as you can, before it’s too late.” Johnny said, a supportive hand patting Mark’s back. “No more waiting. You’ve run out of time. I’ve told you this before, but I promise you it’ll turn out fine.”

It had been a wild afternoon filled with many unwanted revelations and a nasty swirl of emotions, but the quick conversation had brought Mark to the eye of the storm. He was backed into a corner, with only one way out, and that realization had finally dawned on him. “You’re…you’re right. I have to…as soon as I can.” 

Johnny ruffled Mark’s hair, reaching for his controller. “That’s the spirit. You wanna play Overwatch now?” 

Mark shot up and grabbed his bag from the table. “Nah, I’ll pass. I’m beat. I’ll probably just go to sleep, honestly.”

Johnny nodded as he returned his focus back to the TV. “Night, then. Don’t stare at your ceiling all night.”

Mark scoffed as he called from the hallway. “Wasn’t gonna do that. And goodnight!”

1.

He didn’t stare at his ceiling, but he did stare at his desk and lined paper almost all night. Johnny’s first idea of writing a poem was thrown out there randomly, but Mark didn’t think it was half bad. It was a short read on your end, and easy to get the point across without Mark having to do much talking. So, he wrote away, trying various different styles. From haikus to Shakespearean sonnets, to a ballad, each one frustrating him more and more. He even tried to make his usually sloppy writing neater than usual with cursive.

In his last attempt, he decided to ditch all rules of quatrains, lines, and rhyme schemes and instead write whatever he was feeling in a free verse poem. Finally, he felt the poem was right. Enough to say what he needed yet not including the words he needed to tell you himself. With a sigh, he laid out the poem neatly on his desk, ridding all evidence of his struggle the past hour by clearing off all pens and discarding all crumbled up sheets of paper in a trash can.

Mark found himself staring at it over with pride. Was it cheesy? Yeah. Was Mark a hopeless romantic? Certainly. That is just who Mark is, he knows that. After all these years spent with him, surely you know that too by now.

He was drained by this point, his eye lids that have felt stretched open the past few hours feeling too heavy for him to fight against them. Finally, he flopped on his bed, being able to close his eyes and drift to sleep, with plans to give you the poem laid on his desk the next time he saw you. 

.   　˚ ✭　 * ✦　. ‧₊˚🕷‧₊˚　.　✦　˚ .˚　 ✭　.

Mark didn’t process that he would be seeing you much sooner than he expected. Soon being the next morning that you had set to head to class together. How could he when he was so out of it? He hadn’t felt as physically and emotionally tired as he did yesterday in a while, which consequently probably caused him to sleep through his alarm the next morning. 

So, he slept like a boulder, missing all of your incoming calls and texts saying that you were headed to him, blissfully unaware of the poem laid out on his desk.

Mark still slept like a baby as you arrived at his apartment, and of course Doyoung had let you in without hesitation. It was completely out of his control as you made your way to his room on a mission to wake him up. Mark stirred awake, slowly and whiny, as you shook his shoulder, your voice quiet yet enough to wake him up gently. “Mark…you overslept. Get up now, so we won’t be late.”

Mark groaned, rubbing his eyes as you stepped away from him, your job complete. In Mark’s freshly awoken state, he didn’t see what the problem was as you browsed around his room while he gained consciousness, eventually pulling his desk chair out to sit at. Sitting down, your curious eyes landed on the only thing that was laid out, his poem. Well, your poem.

He sat up, his hands still attacking his eyes, trying to rub the sleep away, and you were already well into reading it. Your face was a scramble of feelings that only grew in perplexion as you read every last word, and even getting the chance to read it twice before Mark realized. After a particularly effective yawn and stretch, his eyes landed on you with your eyes set on the paper. Only then did Mark shoot up on his feet, his limbs stumbling as he decided if he should play it cool or snatch the paper from your hands, his only thought being, “please tell me she didn’t read it, please tell me she didn’t read it, please tell me she didn’t read it, please tell me she didn’t read it.”

At Mark’s not very subtle reaction, you put the paper down, looking up at Mark from the chair. “That’s…” Is all you managed to say, not being able to choose between the words intense, beautiful, star striking, devoted, or out of place in Mark’s room. So instead, you stayed speechless for a moment, another feeling the poem invoked as you studied his every move. “Did you write that…? For who? Your writing looks different-”

In a split second, Mark was torn between answering your question with a “yes” and several “you, you, you, you, it’s all about you, only about you," ’s which is what he should have done, or lying his head off. 

The image in his mind of you sat in front of him, seeking answers to your questions, looking at Mark like you were searching for something, it seemed to move in slow motion. This was the plan, was it not? He would hand you the poem, and then he would just admit it was about you. You were more than smart enough to piece together what that implied. 

As he cut you off, he hoped that was what came out, a mere couple of words that would be all he needed to say in the moment. However, when has anything ever gone his way?

“I didn’t write it!”

Mark said a little too desperately, wishing he could exit this sack of meat and bones and punch it across the face. “Not my writing. Too neat. I uh…I found it…on my desk! In my coding class! Must be some kind of secret admirer, I think.” He exclaimed, watching as your face went from something that he couldn’t tell was hope to neutrality, drinking in his lie as fast as he had come up with it.

“Oh…well, that’s…wow. They must really like you,” you pondered as your eyes grazed over the paper.

Somehow, the poem that he had poured his heart into for you, had turned into the sign of affection that a made up secret admirer had written for Mark. If you weren’t right in front of him, he’d fall to his knees, grabbing his head in his hands as his first confession attempt results in a failure down the drain. “Yeah…I guess so…”

Turns out, confessing right away was going to be much harder than he imagined.

.   　˚ ✭　 * ✦　. ‧₊˚🕷‧₊˚　.　✦　˚ .˚　 ✭　.

chap. 2

chap. 3

[aliorsboxostuff]

I went insane on this self indulgent run in trying to get back into writing so here, a House x Wilson and Male!Reader son fic cuz i see House as a.... complicated figure in my life 💀

Menace

Tags: Greg House/James Wilson, Son!Reader, A/B/O Dynamic, Alpha!House, Alpha!Wilson, Alpha!Reader, Younger Reader, Allison Cameron, Robert Chase, Eric Foreman, Lisa Cuddy, Fluff, Crack, No Smut, for shits and giggles, idk abt hospital rules whoops, inaccurate medical terms, medical malpractice, malpractice MD, Established Relationship, Between S1-S3

All those 'Wilson has a Wife at home!' thing was all an innuendo. They're married. and they have.... a son? Come read as the ducklings find out how much of their boss's life they missed!

It was early in the morning. 

Foreman had just entered the office while Chase was eating a bagel. Cameron was making her morning tea and the three were catching up over the weekend. They saw Dr. Wilson passing by and they waved at him, the man nodded and smiled shortly before he continued to his office. Chase says something about last week's case which Foreman laughs at, Cameron rolls her eyes before she takes a seat at the filing desk. 

“We’re only starting the day and you're already filing down House’s stuff?” Chase tilts his head with a smirk, the brunette sighs while her hands are busy with a group of blue files. 

“It’s not like he ever does it himself,” She answers as she sits. “Might as well chip around it,”

The computer boots up slowly when Foreman approaches the mountain of files. He picks one up and flips it open, his face scrunches in confusion. “This was… 2 months ago?”

Foreman levels his colleague with a stare at which Cameron only sighs. He deems it a suitable answer so he drops the file, busying himself with Chase instead. 

Half an hour into meddling about, waiting for their boss to arrive, a sharp knock breaks the team's attention from each other's conversation. 

Standing outside their meeting room is someone they're unfamiliar with. Not someone new to their department judging by their leisurely clothes, it went straight to someone fresh out of high school. However, what caught them off-guard was the jacket the man was wearing. It was House’s jacket.

They have a tall stature, though with how they’re slightly bowing his head, he levels just at Foreman's height. Something about his eyes resembles too much of a doctor they know, sending a shiver down Chase’s spine.

“Excuse me, sorry to interrupt, is this Dr. House’s office?” He asks, a small unsure smile on his lips. Foreman cocks a brow while Cameron and Chase shared a look. 

The boy blinks, holding a file folder in his hand. “I was just told to bring this to his office,”

He shakes the file slightly, his friendly smile unwavering. Cameron was the first to blink and immediately shuffled to handle the folder. When she approaches the boy, he stands straight once his anxiety ebbs out, and something oddly familiar suddenly flashes through her. The boy's scent has the burnt woody undertone House has. Her brain quickly connected it with House’s jacket he was currently supporting yet it was too strong and just different enough to not be another Alpha’s scent that stuck to the boy. Cameron subtly breathes to confirm it's the boy's scent. She stutters through her words, “I-i’ll get this through to him, he uh- he hasn't arrived yet,”

“Oh I know,“ He waves a hand. “I'm only here for a visit but I ran into Dr. Cuddy and she handed me this, she said she’s too busy to bother him herself,” 

The boy laughs, a slight crinkle on the bridge of his nose. Cameron had to choke back a gasp, suddenly digging blunt nails into the case folder. The whole room was silent aside from the melodic laugh. The laughter dies down eventually as the boy gathers himself. 

“Well that's my only reason to be here, I should get going,” he nods politely and bids them a short goodbye before leaving the room. 

Another beat of silence. 

Chase perks up. “I wasn't the only one that thought that was odd… right?”

“Why was he so…” 

“Tall? Yeah, I got that too,” Foreman continued Cameron's question. 

“Yes that but, who- did you guys hear what he said? When I said House wasn't here yet he said ‘Oh I know’,” Cameron drops the file on their meeting table. “How does he know?”

“Better question; was that House’s jacket?” Chase points an accusatory finger in the direction the boy went. 

“Hooker?” Foreman tries, immediately shut down by Cameron.

“House hasn't gone into rut yet,” She reasons, standing her ground. 

“Hey Alphas don't need a nice dicking down when they’re just on ruts y’know,” Chase crosses his arms. “Foreman's right, he could've been someone he slept with,”

“But that kid is way too young!” 

“We can't assume our boss’ type, Cameron,” Foreman smirks. “He might like someone years younger than him!”

“Seriously? Chase’s the one that kissed a child,” Chase immediately gasps, hands flying up at what his colleague said.

“It was one time! And she was dying for god’s sake!”

The two laughs, while Chase rolls his eyes before huffing. “None of this still doesn't explain who that guy was,”

“And he smells… almost like House too,” Foreman blinks at his confusion. The three doctors continuously stared at each other, sharing glances as if it would yield an answer to their questions. Cameron looks back to the door, then to the case file, before deciding to open it. She reads the case and Cuddy was right, it’s interesting enough that House would find interest in it but…

“He mentioned Cuddy, didn't he?” Cameron immediately announces. The two men pauses, before the realization hits them. They were about to exit the office when suddenly House stood between them and the door, motorcycle helmet in hand, donned in his usual leather jacket.

He stares at his team, all supporting various degrees of surprise and confusion before he rolls his eyes. “I’ve only arrived and you’re already going out to run tests?”

His team is still dead silent. House huffs before barging past them and dropping his bag atop the piles of folders. 

“Gimme here,” House reaches out for the file Cameron is still clutching. “Cuddy says this one will blow my cane off,” His voice heightens in pitch, mimicking Cuddy herself. 

Cameron reluctantly gives the file to her boss, the Beta watching for signs of anything from House. As the Alpha starts reading the file, his team slowly files into their normal seating. The room’s tension was apparent, especially annoying to House as he practically felt it with his sense of smell. He looks up from the file, fixing the group with a glowering stare. “Did you all see a ghost or did I miss the memo of being mute for the day?”

“We uh-” Cameron starts “It's just… Someone came by, he was the one that gave us the file…” 

“Huh,” He pauses before raising a brow. “I must be losing my annoying Cuddy streak, she didn't even come by to give it herself,” 

House shrugs and drops the file onto the table with a slap! “But she was right, this is an interesting case…” He turns to his board, his cane thuds dully. “Differential diagnosis, go.”

—

The next time the group spotted the mysterious boy, he was leaving Dr. Wilson's office in the middle of the day.

They had just finished going out for lunch, walking together when they saw the door to the Oncologist's office open to reveal the boy they had seen earlier. A wide smile on his face and an equally glowing smile from Wilson was what shocked the group. They know Wilson as a very patient and empathetic man, but to see him smile so carefree it almost scared the three.

Foreman was reluctant but Chase pulled at his coat first which led them into hiding behind a corner, ears pressed to hear what Dr. Wilson and the boy were conversing about.

“You should’ve seen their faces,” The boy laughs, House’s jacket draped over his arm. 

“They’ve never seen you come by before, I'm sure they were pleasantly confused,” Wilson replies, a coy smile on his lips as he pats the boy’s shoulder. 

“Maybe I should visit you two more often,” His tone was light, his head tilting at the request. They hear Wilson repress a laughter before it chokes out as a short chuckle. 

“If you’re not too busy, we won't mind seeing you here,” Wilson nods. “Just anywhere but the ER, got it?” 

At that, the boy sighs though it seems to be out of fondness if the softness of the man's next word could be an indication for the three; “I won't, I promise,” 

“Then we’ll see you at home,” 

“Awh but I'm bored! I don't wanna go home yet!” The two laugh.

They immediately plaster themselves to the wall, Chase’s eyes wide while Cameron’s eyes shoot in different directions as if connecting invisible strings. Foreman sighs, wiping a hand across his face, before concluding. “A polycule?”

“A- What?”  Chase balks. “You think Wilson and House and that guy…?”

“It makes sense, right? They share living spaces,”

“Wilson keeps saying ‘we’ I think he does mean it’s him and House.” 

Chase and Cameron cross arms simultaneously. “I can see House and Wilson being together.” the brunette concludes.

Chase blinks before he turns to the girl. “Sure but House only has eyes, and love for Wilson, what makes you think that–” 

Suddenly, all three of their pagers beep and god for once they wished their patient stayed stable. They quickly made their way to the room, passing by Wilson and the boy, the two sparing a glance at the hurried steps of the three before they turned back towards each other. 

—

“Is House and Wilson in a polyamorous relationship?” 

Cuddy blinks, closing the patient file slowly and placing it atop her desk. Her eyes glance up to meet Camerons. She manages a tired glare that only works on anyone but House, though it seems he’s been teaching his ducklings bad habits because Cameron only stood and crossed her arms, which makes the dean of medicine raise a brow. 

“What makes you think I’d know that information, Dr. Cameron?”

She shrugs. “You’re closest to them. They tell you first before us, and aren't you always on top of coworkers dating each other and all-”

“Yes, but that's in case it’ll affect the efficiency of our work. House and Wilson-”

“Are an exception?” Cameron’s eyes widen inquisitively. Cuddy promptly rolls her eyes. 

“No. House and Wilson would be the last person to inform me of their relationship,”

“And why aren't you asking them anyway? I wouldn't want to butt into whatever those two alphas are doing,” Cuddy shakes her head, placing her attention back into her files before Cameron sighs.

“Because we saw a kid earlier this morning. Not a staff, not a student. We don't even know who he is but he was wearing House’s jacket and talking with Wilson.” 

“So? Someone could be House’s hooker and Wilson’s patient-” 

“He said he knew you. You gave him a patient file for House because you were too preoccupied to give him yourself!” 

Cameron shot her arms up, exasperated, while the woman sitting in front of her deadpans. Suddenly, Cuddy’s brows furrow, before she belts out a laugh, tapping the hilt of her pen to her desk. The ímmunologist blinks, her arms hovering lamely, confused and slightly scared by what Cuddy is about to say.

Cuddy steadies herself, before easily replying. “Oh him. Yeah that's House and Wilsons’s son.”

“... What?” Cuddy will have to check the cameras later because the shocked face Cameron supported before running out of her office was priceless.

—

House and Wilson were in the diagnostician's office. The boy was leaning on the wall between them, the two doctors sat face to face, divided by House’s desk. They were enjoying a cup of coffee, House had his patient's MRI results in his hands and went over it with Wilson, seeing as his ducklings were off doing tests. 

House figured it would be another hour before they bothered him again when his expectations plummeted by the three bursting into his office. 

“You have a son?!” Chase shouts.

“He’s your son?!” Cameron pointed at the surprised boy. 

“You two are together?!” Foreman motions between House and Wilson.

House groans loudly. Wilson looks to the side. The boy takes a slow sip from his cup. 

The diagnostician drops the MRI scans, promptly putting his legs down from the desk, annoyance evident in his frown. “Yes, yes and yes– I thought I sent you three to do blood tests,” He extends a hand. “I’m assuming it’s done so now give it,” 

“The results will be done in another hour. You never bothered to tell us?” 

“You all never bothered to ask,” House replies easily. He grabs his cane and stands, making his way to stand between Wilson and the lanky boy. House’s son.

“For a group of diagnosticians you three are really bad at picking up very obvious hints,” He sighs. “Especially you, Chase. You’ve worked with me for years now! I'm very disappointed in you young man.” 

“Wha- How should I know? You and Wilson were always this weird… Thing,” His hand flairs to gesture to the two doctors. “And you never brought the kid around!” 

“That's because he was in high school,” Wilson shrugs. “A lot of after-school programs,”

He replies as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. The three doctors are still standing dumbfounded. House supports a smirk before he brings the boy to stand beside him, an arm around his shoulders. 

“Everyone, meet me and Wilson's adopted son.” The kid laughs slightly, waving at the group. “Oh and yes, me and Wilson are together, in case you all didn't get that,” 

“You two are married?!” “Oh yes, til death do us part and all, the whole gimmick,” 

Wilson sighs. “Gimmick it may be, you still cried that day,” 

“And you’re going to blackmail me, Wilson? Oh you wound me, pookie,” House pouts at the Oncologist at which he raises a brow. 

“Wait wait-” Foreman shakes his head. “You never wore a ring and- Only Wilson does!”

“Im allergic to gold,” House sneezes when the said ring Wilson’s supporting glints. “It also doesn't match my edgy, cool doctor outfit,” 

The boy beside him laughs, shaking his head. “You’re lame, Dad. Lame, not cool,” 

“My own family is against me!” Wilson chuckles at House’s reply, which also makes his son laugh louder. A beat of warm laughter before Cameron pushes another question.

“Is- is this true?” He gestures towards the boy. He smiles, patting House’s hand that's still resting comfortably on his shoulder.

“Yes. I am Dr. House’s and Dr. Wilson’s son. A couple of months after they got married, they adopted me. I’m pretty sure I was in middle school when they took me in,” He smiles, glancing between his parents. “I’ve been with them ever since.”

“It’s semester break right now, so rather than spending my time at home, i’d rather bother my dad’s here at work. I won't bother you all!” 

The boy flashes a false smile suddenly. “No promises though.”

Cameron sighs. “Oh god there's two of you…”

House met his son's eyes. Something glints between them, before the two Alphas turn to the group sharply. House levels them with a smug stare while his son grins, all sharp teeth and menace, the two oozing dangerous dominant pheromones. Cameron and Chase locks up, Foreman only sighs at the two’s display. Wilson, still sat with his warm mug in hand, only sighs and rolls his eyes. If his husband and son is going to scare the shit out of the diagnostic department, he might as well enjoy the spectacle. It’s not like his son would stay here for long, he’ll get bored eventually and spend his break elsewhere, right? 

What happens in the next couple of weeks into his son's break would prove him wrong.

reblogs save lives. Requests opened!

[cursedhaglette]

Shoutout Sunday

it is so freaking kind of @littlejuicebox and @tallymonster to tag my work in their shoutout posts, so i wanted to add my own recs of fics i am currently wishing I could leave 1000 kudos on.

also fair warning, i'm a long fic girl. give me an OC to be obsessed, someone i can imagine my own hanging out with, and hopefully one that their author is also obsessed with. i wanna feel that through the writing. and with these, you can.

Pieces Left Stuck in Your Teeth by @howlsmovinglibrary / @wetcatspellcaster - i couldn't put this down when i started it, to the point i was reading it in the car when i should have been grocery shopping. i couldn't stop. it is witty always, devastating at times, and this version of Astarion is just terrible and hilarious in all the best ways

Not Your Sweetheart by @kittenintheden - the most natural dialogue I've ever read, and also the most hilarious. kitten also has such a talent for writing every character in a way that has me laughing each time anyone in her fic speaks. unless it hurts, in which case, it's gonna hurt a LOT

I Want to be Better; Let's Make Each Other Worse by @redrook - my frequent writing bud who's ideas outdo my own more often that not, Jack is an absolute genius and their fic shows it with every word written. the strange ox like you've never seen him before, dolphin riding, ceiling sex - you name it, it's in here AND it makes sense

Pour One Out by the absolutely delicious mind of @aevallare - auristarion supremacy for always. we all know kindred but if you aren't also reading Pour One Out you are, unfortunately, a fool

Sonnet of the Lone Cardinal by @brain-rot-central - neech is doing something truly different with this devastating and delicious A!A piece. and for it to be her first long fic??! the talent is insane

Made for This by @olivedrop - Olive's fic brings me so much joy, not just because Olive herself is an absolute delight, but because her writing is so real and the way she captures the companions feels like it was cut dialogue it's so good

now you want some SMUT? OKAY lets talk - take these and call me in the morning

Think of Me by @scaryanneee is the smut fic of all time for me. i've recced this an unhealthy number of times, probably bordering on it being obsessive

inevitable by @aevallare the smut fic i rec the second most because it's just so easy to place myself in the moment alex writes and as always, i love when the tadpole gets thrown in while folks get nasty

Where were you when I was new? by @kittenintheden - just shut the fuck up and read this and you'll get it. also i'll never stop thinking about how kitten writes dialogue in smut because holy cow

Pent Up by @underdark-dreams - this isn't even Astarion I'm sorry. it's Rolan. i don't even know if i like Rolan. BUT I LOVE THIS FIC. it is so fucking good oh my god.

Careless Whisper by @tallymonster - okay i might be biased because Tally offered to mention Halia here and made her the goddamn prima ballerina, but this is also just So Good and such a fun read. modern AUs don't usually work for me, but this one is that charming

and of course, though i doubt you need my rec to know her by now, anything written by miss @fangswbenefits will make your toes curl. and i mean anything.

[on1occasionfork]

2024 fic roundup

Thanks for the tag, @brenna, and for making this, @cheeseplants

What fandoms do you write in?

Good Omens these days

How many words have you published in 2024?

153,615!

What is your greatest achievement this year?

Writing-wise, it's gotta be But, soft! It's the longest thing I've ever written. You know what sticks with me though? A lovely friend told me she saved chapters to read on days she had to have medical treatment or needed cheering up. I can't imagine a higher bit of praise for my silly fluffy cat story. On days that I get discouraged, that's what I remember.

I also bit the bullet after many years and got a tattoo, designed by fellow Goblin Catartkd. It might not seem directly fic-related, but Good Omens fic and the fandom have reenergized my creativity, and every time I see it, it's a reminder of the joy to be found in those things.

What are your favourite top three fics you wrote this year?

But, soft!

Thus Saith the Lord

Gen Az

What was your biggest pit of despair moment?

No huge pit of despair, but quite a few moments of panic when I was posting faster than I was writing! If there was any despair, it was around getting stuck on the first thing I started writing for Good Omens.

What have you learned?

More than anything else I've learned how incredibly kind, smart, and wonderful this fandom is. I've had nothing but lovely interactions with folks, and I'm always impressed that no matter how obscure a reference is...someone's going to get it.

Quite a bit about hyphenating compound adjectives

A LOT about US geography

What fic did you want to do but never made it off the ground?

Hey @dbacklot99 -- here's where we talk about Abide. This story is nine chapters in, unposted, and I got a) stuck with the plot and b) distracted by Nursing Home AU, cats, and many other things. BUT. There is suddenly light at the end of the tunnel, thanks to @spectrallydistracted, and it's gonna be one of my 2025 projects.

Did you beta any fics? Any favs you want to shout out?

Shake Like Hell and Spell Success, Experiential Learning, and Yield by @kneelbeforeyourdogbabylon

Currently betaing Good Works by @majnoonathelibrarian

Midnight Ride by @brenna

And several other fantastic stories, some of which have been posted and some of which are still WIPs and about which I am super excited.

What three fics have you read this year that you love?

Oh come on. Three? Ridiculous. Gonna pick a few that were only published this year and which I have already read at least twice.

Eerie Was the Way by @kneelbeforeyourdogbabylon

That Certain Night by @adverbian

Consenting Cycle Repairmen by @groovynightstrawberry

Honey, There Is No Right Way by @voluptatiscausa

Stuck on You by @zin-lynn-c

Terminus by @emotional-support-demon-crowley

The Best Part by @happynachohologram

tidal disruption (I love the world because I love you) by @chlorine-and-daisies

@firstvisittoearth's Poetry Collection

What ideas are percolating for next year?

Abide — a post s2 "All of us against all of them" story

More you can't take the stars from me — I haven't had much time, but I'm excited to combine two stories that I deeply love, and I've been so happy about all the Browncoats it brought to my attention!

In Plain Sight — a riff on Witness.

Who do you want to thank?

@nosferatini and the @goodomensafterdark mod crew, both here and on Reddit. Nos, I'm so glad you pulled me in. Mods, you have created a space that is so welcoming, so supportive, and I cannot tell you how much I value it.

Everybody who has read, commented on, or recced any of my stuff, but especially my first published GO work, Our homeward steps were just as light. Plus @nosferatini again who turned it into an incredible podfic and @daneecastle who created beautiful art.

All the people who have given me ideas of food, destinations, etc. for Thus Saith the Lord, but especially @moderndayklutz. All those above who have either betaed for me or let me beta for them. @isiaiowin for rekindling my love of poetry.

And most of all, to my @sexy-sheep, love of my life who, when I hesitantly said that I had started writing GO fic, said, “I wondered how long it would take,” and immediately gave me the idea for But, soft! — you are the best of wives and best of women, the best brainstorming partner I could ever want, and the person I’m glad I fall asleep (or stay awake and read until 3am) next to every night.

Anyone in my tags feel free to join in or in fact anyone at all.

[lizard-on-a-window-pane]

so, i started writing this fic, and i think i'm going to continue it, but i would love to get some reactions to the idea i had so much fun adapting a romcom to the marauders in my 10 things i hate about you fic, then i was rewatching life as we know it for the first time in years and was surprisingly still into it and thought it could be a fun one cos of some of the parallels, so here is the set up:

in an au where voldy is destroyed, sirius never sent to azkaban, and reader and sirius have to raise harry together after james and lily die even though they hate each other... initially ofc

pairing: Sirius Black x reader word count: 1.9k

You’re surprised to hear a knock at your door this late. Exhausted after another Order mission, you resent whoever is on the other side of it. When you open it, lowering your ready wand just behind the door with an exasperated sigh, the feeling heightens. 

“What the hell do you want?” you ask a smirking Sirius Black leaning on your doorframe. 

“What kind of a greeting is that, love?” he retorts seemingly unfazed.

You say nothing, glare harder. 

He rolls his eyes and begins, “Dumbledore wants you to tell me about your mission. He has something he wants me to do soon — won’t tell me what exactly yet, you know how he is — and he thinks whatever intel your mission provided will be relevant.” 

“Can’t it wait till tomorrow? I’m exhausted, Black.” 

“He told me to come tonight,” he says firmly, shrugging. “Look, I don’t want to be here any more than you want me to be here, but there are more important things right now than resting” — he gestures to you — “or keeping good company,” he finishes, gesturing at himself.

“Oh I’m bad company? Have you met yourself? And you’re one to talk about important things, Black. All you ever do is joke around. And —” you go to continue, but he cuts you off, gently pushing his way past you and into your flat.

“Choose a line of attack, L/N. You’re rambling.”

You groan but follow him into your living room. He’s making himself comfortable, putting his boots up on your coffee table to settle in. 

“Fucking hell, Black,” you whine as you kick his legs off. “I know there’s a war going on, but I’d prefer for my home not to become a pig sty, thank you.” 

“Leave it to you to worry about shit like this now,” he sighs, rolling his eyes at you for the second time in mere minutes.

His critical comments are nothing new. The two of you had gotten into it over nothing since your school days, your best friends eventually getting together doing nothing to make you hate each other less. Lily had been your best friend since first year, James his. 

With your current exhaustion, even this little comment had you practically seething. Knowing him, though, you knew anything you said back would just give him more ammunition to mock you somehow. So, you just stood and stared angrily at him. 

“Well?” he looks at you infuriatingly nonchalantly. “The faster we do this, the faster I’m out of here.” 

“Fine.” You sit next to him begrudgingly and relate the events of the last few days to him, falling into “official” mode the only thing that made dealing with Sirius Black any easier.

~

This message wasn’t right. There was no possible way it was right. It had to be wrong. A mistake. A trap. A cruel joke. Anything but the truth.

You’re standing there, staring at the spot where a fellow Order member’s Patronus has just vanished after delivering its message to you. Your jaw is slack, your eyes wide and quickly brimming with tears. Tears at the mere idea that your best friend and her husband were dead, not the reality. It couldn’t be reality. 

After what might have been several minutes, though your mind is stuck, your body moves to action and heads immediately to Order headquarters. 

When you get there, you’re surprised at how many people are here. Such gatherings are usually reserved for the most important of meetings only; it’s too dangerous to have so many members together in any one place, lest the enemy find out and root out what little resistance remains. 

Oddly enough, it’s in crowds like this that you most notice the absent. You miss them when you are alone, too, of course, but there is something about looking around and not seeing Marlene’s beautiful — even if haunted toward the end — face amongst the others. Not feeling Dorcas’s head coming to rest on your shoulder. Not hearing Alice’s sweet giggle at something Frank has just whispered to her, bringing joy even in the darkest of times. Their voices are devoid of joy now, shut away at St. Mungo’s. 

Lily can’t be gone too. Please not Lily too. 

You’re not sure how to gauge the expressions of your friends and comrades around you. There is such a strange intermingling of emotions lingering on their faces. James and Lily couldn’t be dead if there was a look of such relief on Emmeline’s face, if Elphias was busy chattering away to a few other members. 

But then you see him. You see Sirius Black, and you know.

He’s sitting in a corner. He isn’t crying. He doesn’t look sad. He looks hollow. There aren’t tears in his eyes because his eyes are dead. 

You gravitate toward him without thinking, and when you’re close, his empty eyes meet yours. Sirius stands. You look at each other for a long moment, understanding crossing between you, and without a word from either of you, you embrace.

A few long, shaky breaths later, with Sirius Black’s warm, firm arms around you, you break down. You can’t see his face from where you have yours burrowed into his chest, but his arms tighten around you as your sobs shake your whole body. He holds you through the entire episode, until your body has drained itself of all the tears it could possibly produce in this moment. Only when you’ve been still for a minute does he loosen his grip, stepping back slightly.

You already know the answer, but you ask anyway, “Both of them?” He just nods. You immediately follow with, “Where’s Harry?” Fear shoots through you at the thought, but before you lose yourself in it, Sirius grabs your shoulders and says, “Harry’s fine.” Another bout of fear oozes through your body, but this one is slower, eerier. It takes you a moment to discern its cause: it’s Sirius’s voice. It’s never sounded like this before, and you hear in its dullness a pain you’d think unimaginable if you weren’t feeling it too. 

You nod slowly and ask where your godson is. Sirius tells you he’s with Remus. 

“What’s going to happen to him?” you whisper. 

“I don’t know,” he responds. “Dumbledore said he’d talk to us once we were both here.” 

~ 

It’s much later in the night, almost morning you reckon, when you find yourself and Sirius sitting across from Dumbledore, finally alone. He’d had to handle a million and one things already, the scope of the night’s events incomprehensible to your grief-stricken mind. 

Dumbledore doesn’t wait at all before saying, “I am truly sorry for the loss you both have experienced tonight and will continue to experience for the rest of your lives. The loss of someone so close is a loss from which one never truly recovers.” 

You both nod, saying nothing, and he continues. 

“I’m certain both of your main concern at this point is Harry. Firstly, let me provide you the comfort of informing you Harry is perfectly safe. How exactly, none of us know, and perhaps will never know. But young Harry survived Voldemort’s attack tonight, and somehow destroyed him in the process. Harry is currently with Mr. Lupin, but you can sort for yourselves how you wish to go about the transition in the following days. I have not spoken to either of you about it personally, but I imagine, given the arrangement, that you will be moving into the Potter’s home in Godric’s Hollow?”

You’re sure your face betrays your utter confusion, and on instinct, you look to Sirius for some sort of clarification. The look on his face tells you he’s as lost as you are. 

“Arrangement, sir?” you finally manage after some awkward silence.

“Yes. It was Lily and James’s wish that in the event of their deaths, Harry should be raised by his godparents.” He looks between you and Sirius. “You, of course.” 

A pregnant beat. 

“I’m sorry, what? ‘You’ as in who? ‘You’ as in me? Or him? Not ‘you’ as in us?” you ramble. 

“‘You’ as in both of you, yes. You and Mr. Black.” You give a mirthless chuckle. 

“There must be some kind of misunderstanding, sir. We,” you gesture unnecessarily aggressively between you and the man sitting next to you, “are not together. We’re not a couple; we’re not even friends; how are we supposed to raise Harry together?” 

“There is no misunderstanding. And I do feel the need to add that this is in fact one consideration in bestowing — and accepting — the role of a godparent, I’m sure you know.”

You turn toward Sirius, who is just sitting there completely dumbstruck. You smack his chest and urge, “Say something, for Godric’s sake.” 

“Ummm… I… Well… I… She…She…,” he looks to you briefly, “I and… and she… I and she… she and I —” He can’t string even a phrase together, and Dumbledore gently raising a hand mercifully puts an immediate stop to his ridiculous attempt.

“It is unfortunate that your friends did not discuss this decision with you before its effect was rendered necessary. I imagine they dreaded such a conversation and suspect they never found it the ‘right’ time. However, I am certain it was what they wanted. After all, it was at my behest that they made a decision at all. Few of us ever want to think about our own deaths, but when I realized what danger the Potters were in, I knew it was a necessary consideration. I am devastated to have been proven correct.” Dumbledore was always calm and collected, but you know him well enough to know he meant those words.

“If you choose to reject this arrangement, we can see about other options. Though, as I have said, it would be going against his parents’ wishes. There is of course his aunt and uncle, the Dursleys I believe they are called. Alternatively, there are orphanages for such occasions, but they are dreadful places, and I would wish that fate upon no child, especially if he could be raised with family.” 

“The Dursleys aren’t his family,” you say immediately, a strength to your voice that had not been there in the entire conversation thus far. Dumbledore looks at you. “They’re not, sir. I’ve met them. They’re horrid people. They hate wizards and witches, were terribly cruel to Lily. I can’t imagine how they’d treat her wizard son.” You grimace at the thought. “They’re not his family… We are.” This sits heavily in the room for a moment, and it is Sirius who speaks first. 

“We’ll take care of Harry,” he whispers. His voice is quiet but certain. “We’ll figure it out.” He looks to you inquisitively, and you nod. 

“I’m gladdened to hear it,” Dumbledore says. “You don’t have to stay there long term, but I imagine it will be good for Harry to be in a familiar place as he adjusts to such change, so I will have him brought to his house in a few hours. Can you collect yourselves and meet him there?” 

You both nod; he adds a curt, “Good,” and before you know what’s even happened, you’re left sitting in a room with Sirius Black, a man you’d always hated, a man who is suddenly your co-parent to Harry. 

[sitp-recs]

Heyy, do you have any drarry fic recs wherein Harry is living his quiet life in a cottage? Thank youu :D

Hi anon, yes absolutely! I love this trope, you’ll find most of my recs on this recluse!Harry list and this cottagecore list. I’m adding a few more fics below, all of them with Harry as the cottage owner. Envoy!

Glowing by @cavendishbutterfly (T, 10k)

Harry's lived alone and vampiric in his cottage for ages, until a long-lived Draco Malfoy suddenly shows up to answer an advertisement Harry had practically forgotten he'd put in the Prophet. Cue soft blood drinking, quiet nights of reading and crocheting, and Harry thinking that maybe--just maybe--he might not be so alone anymore.

Twelve Moons by @corvuscrowned (T, 27k)

Harry Potter lives a quiet life, running an inn with his two best friends. Once a month, Draco Malfoy comes to stay. A real-time fic that takes place over the course of a year; updates every full moon.

Simulation Theory by @starquestingfordrarry (E, 35k)

An offer to test out a new invention for Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes turns into a whole lot more when Harry discovers who has the other part of the paired set.

All Roads by korlaena, Saulaie (M, 36k)

Draco hates his job at the Prophet. He hates it even more when he’s assigned to write an article on Harry Potter, who left the country three years ago after their falling out. Draco doesn’t want to face the truth about himself, but he’s stuck between Harry and his duty, and he’s out of options.

Starlight in the Void by @dodgerkedavra (E, 40k)

An overgrown cottage in an unassuming seaside village is the perfect place for Harry Potter’s fresh start. Harry gets two weeks of peace before he hears rumors of a mysterious hermit wizard who lives in a stone tower in the woods.

Through the May Air, Over the Ocean by tsauergrass (T, 45k)

Draco Malfoy never expected to find himself in Scotland or being stuck in a cottage with Potter—but wonders never cease. A story about warmth, a story about falling back in love. A story about a flock of sheep in the distant fells of Scotland.

The Bolthole by aideomai, Tepre (E, 54k)

Harry is a hoarder, Draco is grief-stricken, and both are capable human adults who can definitely spend a month in a cottage in the Cotswolds together without ever talking about the time they slept together in eighth year. Yeah, no, totally.

When It Alteration Finds by momatu (E, 55k)

After the war, Harry left most of the Wizarding world behind and built a new life for himself in the Channel Islands. He opened a bakery and is happy with his life. Draco is a fiction author who writes under a penname, and he's currently suffering from writer's block. His agent suggests he try writing in a new environment and rents a cottage in the Channel Islands for him.

A Sword Laid Aside by @korlaena (E, 128k)

When Draco’s cover is blown during a deep undercover operation and the Ministry is compromised, Ron takes Draco to the only safe place he can think of—Potter. Hiding out with a taciturn Harry Potter, who has been missing from the Wizarding World for almost two decades after a shocking fall from grace, is nothing like Draco thought it would be.

Bonus: a dark!Harry fic 😈

Now I Wake Up In The Night and Watch You Breathe by @hoko-onchi-writes (E, 24k)

Or: Harry has been pining for years. It's time he finally makes his dreams come true.

[fartasticdurge]

2024 Writing Year in Review

Fine, I'll pull a @alwaysmauria and say that when enough people tag you, you finally give in to one of them, albeit begrudgingly.

Words posted (on AO3): ~370k, excluding those I share with @strixamans and @vakariansyndrome, so probably ~330k

Fandoms: BG3 & DAtV

Skipping past stats. No one but those who sort by hits or kudos should care about this. And if you do, that's fine.

Fic I spent the most time on: Fated, my first baby. It's a gruesome 162,186 words-filled monster, but I love her for all she taught me.

Fic I spent the least time on: The Lord, the Thief, their Mistress & Fart's Lover, only because @vakariansyndrome did most of the heavy lifting after the words spewed out of us.

Favourite thing I wrote: Does Emmrich still know how to do dishes. It started off poorly, I couldn't get Emmrich's voice to sound less like Sherlock Holmes and House MD combined, but this story made me reflect on the process of writing more than anything had before. And it's probably no coincidence that it's currently ranked my most-read one-shot.

Favourite fics I read this year: I saw you guys doing 4+1 here, but fuck that. #tageveryone

Resonance by @tthisonebites and, honestly, anything you ever write. But that one was viscerally good and stuck with me. One of my favorite authors.

Midwinter's Rest by Professor_Rye. And not just because this was a gift from them, but they truly hit me in the feels with anything they write.

Waiting, Jealous Little Thing, Reckless Little Love, Drizzt, darling? Really? by @vakariansyndrome - you are a writing machine, woman. You edge me (in writing) like no other. And yes, that Halsin fic will forever be on my mind.

Not an exotic pet by Cesela. You made me love bats and I love your butt(inside joke).

Strange Highways by @nocryptographer and your poetry. Still have not finished it, I am afraid I will no longer hate Cazador. You are too powerful and someone must stop you before you ascend.

The Accountant’s Guide to Taking Down an Evil Vampire Lord (and maybe bagging Astarion while you are at it) by Cinnamontails - I have never inhaled a long fic like this one before.

Hunting Creatures by @strixamans and The Vampire's Verses to top it off. Thank you for tolerating me.

Apples by @alwaysmauria, also another writing machine. try and see if you can delete this message, Mauria (inside joke).

Catch Me If You Can and poems by @dramaticchimpmunk. seeing writing through your eyes has inspired me and reminded me why I write.

Walking on Eggshells (Ascended Astarion & Tav ), Painting Problems (Ascended Astarion and Tav One-Shot)  by JacksonCrowe. Jackie, my first writing mentor. Thank you for existing. Best first, loving AA fic I read.

I'm pretty sure I forgot people and that's on me, sorry.

Writing goals for 2025: Oh boy, do I have plans. Whether or not I act on them is another matter. My goal for this year is quality over quantity and I started taking steps towards that. Stay tuned.

New works for 2025: I will continue working on the short fics in the Bellara Lutare serials, which is currently the thing that brings me most joy to write about. And probably many short stories. I can't or don't want to commit to any long fics right now. I have too many wips that stare at me and I hope I might one day return to them, but likely not right now.

Here's to more writing in the new year and thank you all for being amazing human beings and writers who inspire! 🖤🥂

Astarion & Emmrich gifs for the long post as payment.

[sunflowerreid]

Hey, I love your writing and I have an idea for a fic if you're interested:

Spencer and reader are in an established relationship and one day she and some other team members, maybe JJ are watching Reid playing with some kids (it may be Henry and Jack) and JJ makes a comment how Spencer will be the best father or something like that. Reader then feels worried that Spencer might want kids. She knows she doesn't want to have kids ever. So then she starts distancing herself from him and acting a bit cold. Then Spencer worries why is she like that and confronts her. And in the end after a lot of angst there is a happy ending where they want and chose to be child free.

Feel free to ignore this request if it's not something you'd want to write. Sorry for any mistakes English is not my first language.

Hope this is okay :) let me know if you’d like anything else written x

Forever yours - S.R

Warnings: angst

You knew from a young age that you never wanted to have children, the thought of raising a child scared you to death, the responsibility was too much. You hadn’t had a smooth childhood, every conversation between you and your parents ended in an argument, every night you were left alone with your siblings while they went down to the pub, you practically raised them by yourself. You couldn’t go through that again. The sleepless nights, the crying and screaming, the financial debt. None of it.

Spencer knew about your childhood, he knew you hadn’t had it easy and neither had he, the only difference between you and him was his ability to comfort and get along with the younger victims, he knew just what to say to calm them down while you watched uselessly from the sidelines. Your biggest fear was that he wouldn’t accept that you didn’t want a family, that he’d leave you after you told him so you kept quiet, too scared to ruin what you have with him. But right now you regretted not telling him, the insecurity that you aren’t good enough for him rose every time you saw him laughing with Henry, he couldn’t possibly be happy if he stuck with you he’d never have the chance to play with his own kid, a mini version of him instead of his godson. Henry was absolutely adorable with his shoulder length blonde hair, big green eyes and glistening smile, Spencer absolutely adored his godson and did everything he could to make him smile.

The whole team and their families had been invited round Rossi’s house for a dinner party, JJ and Hotch brought their kids along, both currently bored out of their minds so it wasn’t long before Spencer was crouched down at Henry’s and Jack’s level showing them a magic trick, you could hear a squeal of delight come from both of them when Spencer made a coin appear from behind Henry’s ear, Jack eagerly waiting for his turn. Everyone else was stood by the counter, glass of red wine in hand while they admired the interaction between the three of them. JJ made her way over to you while you giggled at the smile on Spencers face, “He’s going to make such a good parent one day, you’re both going to be” she said smiling, slightly tipsy. She didn’t notice your smile fading away slightly, “Thank you JJ” you replied calmly, your eye-line returning to the huge smile plastered on Spencers face. You couldn’t give him that, you couldn’t give him the one thing nature intended you to and you hated yourself for it, he’d be better off with someone who could. Someone like JJ.

You remembered how Spencer used to look at JJ, the same way he looks at you, the way his eyes lit up when she waked into a room, the way he threw his head back when he laughed as hard as he could when she told a joke. Who wouldn’t? She was absolutely gorgeous, so kind and nurturing even after everything she’d been through. You were the opposite, socially awkward and quiet, just average nothing special, you had no idea why Spencer had stuck himself with someone like you. Well it obviously had something to do with the fact that he couldn’t have JJ but still, he could’ve done so much better and you’re realising all of this now.

“You okay honey?” Spencer asked sweetly as he got into the car after saying goodbye to everyone, “Just tired” you replied softly as he started the car. Spencer placed his warm hand on his usual position on your thigh, started slightly as you tensed up, you’re never tense around him. He removed it slowly placing it onto the steering wheel instead. As you arrived back home you were quick to run up to the bedroom to change, not wanting to have to break the news to Spencer, you didn’t want to rip his dream away from him. You climbed into your side of the bed, pulling the covers up to your neck as you felt Spencer climb in the other side, shifting over to reach for your waist and pull you into him. You loved it when he did that, when he placed his head in the back of your neck and kissed you goodnight while holding you tightly, scared to let go, but you couldn’t tonight you had to get away before you said something you’d regret. “Too warm” you mumbled as an excuse, squirming away from him. “What’s wrong angel, please talk to me did I do something wrong” he whispered sadly when you didn’t take his hand in yours, like you normally would when you didn’t want to cuddle. “Go to sleep Spencer” you said in an annoyed tone, maybe if you acted in the way your parents did to you he’d realise how wrong you were for him, how much better off he’d be without you.

Three days. Three days without so much as a touch from Spencer. You could feel your heart breaking every time you saw him, every time you looked into those beautiful sad eyes, he didn’t know what he’d done wrong, he’d tried his best to communicate with you but you just shut down, walls back up to where they used to be. “Are you going to tell me what I did wrong” he asked sternly as you both got home after finishing a tough case, emotions running high. “Nothing wrong Spencer” you replied, turning away from him to avoid making eye contact. “No, no more of this, just stop it, stop acting like everything’s fine because I know somethings wrong so please enlighten me” he said raising his voice slightly. “Just leave it alone Spencer I don’t want to talk about it” you said trying to stay calm, still not facing him. “For fuck sake y/n, what’s wrong with you why are you acting this way!” he shouted his arms raising before falling back down to his sides “Come on are you going to say anything, I think I deserve an explanation, don’t you? Is this it angel is this the end of us, do you not love me anymore, is that it?!” He shouted again when you didn’t respond. “Will you please just look at me!”. You turned around, tears filling your eyes desperately trying to fall over the edge. “No angel no I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I forgot sweetheart, fuck I’m such an idiot” he whispered as he rushed over to you collecting you in his arms while you clung on for dear life, you hated shouting and confrontation and he knew that. “Not good for you m’sorry” you sobbed as your nails dug into his shoulder “Don’t say that angel you’re perfect for me you know that” he choked out, trying not to sob with you. “Can’t give you what you want, can’t be a mother can’t do it m’sorry, you deserve someone that can” you sobbed desperately as your grip tightened scared to let go. “Oh angel” he whispered as he gently encouraged your face to leave the safety of his neck, you looked up a him, tears spilling from his eyes as he wiped yours away, “You’re all I want honey, you’re all I will ever need”. You sobbed loudly, Spencer joining you as he wrapped his arms around you getting as close as possible, “I love you angel, I always will, I’ll never stop.” he sobbed. “You promise?”, “I promise sweetheart, I’ll love you forever”, “And ever?”, “And ever” he laughed softly, tears staining both of your cheeks red “I’m forever yours angel”. “Spence?”, “Yes honey”, “I love you too, forever and ever”.

[inejinn]

Gender neutral reader, Cassandra Cain, up to interpretation relationship, fluff

Pebbles

Or: Reader offers a little something to Cass: a gentle memory and a small gift

hello, hello, this fic is inspired by this post from @deadrobinthoughts ! It was such a sweet concept, I just couldn't not write something with it

They're a fantastic writer and allowed me to publish something inspired by this prompt of theirs (thanks you so much!) , so here it is : my second fic ever

It's basically a less well written version of it haha, but not the exact same scenario!

There was no wind to catch onto your hair, no tussle either of your hair or of people around.

The only movement was the one of your steps as you walked.

Life was currently being kind.

A glimmer on the ground caught your eye.

Hoping for it to be a dime, you bent down, retrieved it, stood back up.

It wasn't one. Yet your surprise wasn't a disappointed one.

You had, somehow, managed to find a pretty rock in an alley where crows had made their nests.

Maybe they had left it there for you? You doubted that. Crows shying away from shiny clutter was unlikely.

Maybe one had just dropped it, then?

That was unlikely, too. The movement would have caught the attention of Cass and she'd have stuck to your side, then.

She hadn't. She was turned toward you, but with enough distance between you two for you to deem everything was as safe as it could be. She had her head slightly cocked to the side, waiting for you.

"I found something", you explained, deciding to just settle on the explanation that luck had just decided to smile at you today.

That something was something you found pretty. Pretty interesting, as well. And so, you wanted to show it to her.

"Here, it's for you", you smiled at her, bringing your cupped hands forwards. You wanted to gift it to her, this time, if she accepted it.

Curiosity filled her frame, and she let it.

Really, she was half expecting you to be holding some bug you deemed pretty. But, as it turned out, it wasn't one. That was.. A rock.

This time, when she cocked her head to the side, it was a little further : a straight up question.

With a chuckle, you took her hand and placed the small rock inside it.

"It kinda matches your eyes", you stated.

And it did, the way it shined reminiscing you of the glimmer in her eyes whenever you managed to make her laugh.

Though she was still looking the slightest bit dubious, you saw the way the corner of her lips raised up.

Wordlessly, she stepped away from you, bending down swiftly before joining your side again.

When she drew closer to you, a not so suppressed beam started adorning your face. (You might have tried to wait until she was closer to show your excitement, but you were ultimately failing. She didn't mind.)

The leaf in between her fingers kind of matched the color of your scarf. Just like you had earlier, she placed it in your hands.

Looking back up, her lips were still turned towards the sky.

You smiled back at her, closing your fingers carefully in order to safely hold her present.

You'd keep them like this forever, if you could.

Instead, you preciously kept your hold on the leaf, deciding to until you could find a place to, well, place it in.

When she looked away from you, she started walking again. You scrambled to follow her, though there was no doubt she wasn't looking to flee you

soft smile was still present, in, someway, the embrace of your palms.

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

Your pebble ends up leaving the palm of her hand. Instead, it ends up nestled in a corner of her room. Sometimes, on sunny days (as rare as they can get), they catch on the light rays.

Sometimes , she thinks they reflect back right into the left corner of her chest, in those moments.

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

You kept the leaf as if it's a piece of paper, one with words written on it that you'd want to keep.

To you, it is.

She finds that out some days later (11, exactly: that's how long it took for her to find what she's currently in your room for).

When she opens your window, she's quick to notice it. It's resting on top of a book, one you had probably used to dry and flatten it. It probably wouldn't fly away if wind was to enter your room, you had clearly being strategic in its positioning.

Still, when you entered your room later on, a small rock was safely pinning it down. It was pretty much the shade of your eyes.

I'm scared to count how many time I used the word 'smile'

Also! I tried to alternate the povs of Reader and Cass but I honestly don't think it's very noticeable until you're, well, me, so ..welp

I had so much fun with this fic, I honestly want to write a continuation of it, but at the same time: I'm scared I made it too peaceful or wrote Cass too ooc? So sorry if that's the case, please don't hesitate to give me tips

[massharp1971]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers! Spread the self-love 💞

Oooh, thanks for the ask! Gosh. This is going to be hard. I have to do this without looking through the list because I'll die of indecision otherwise.

1. Unbroken 16K, M rating

“I’ll protect you. All of you,” he said, because he thought that was what was expected, but much as he desperately wanted it to be true, he knew this wasn’t a storybook. His heart clenched painfully at the thought of something happening to Rodney.

“Dumbass,” Rodney said in between still slightly panicky breaths. “Go read the SGC reports and then come back and tell me who usually saves who. Spoilers: It’s science. It’s always science… still, I appreciate the thought. I believe you want that to be true.”

This fic never fails to get enthusiastic reactions from the readers that venture in. It's not an easy read, as it's about trauma and all the layers of it that go unaddressed in the show. It was one of those stories that demanded to be written. it's ultimately a healing story and one that chimes for a lot of folks.

2. Awakenings >100K, E rating

‘Hi, Mer McKay, PhD, PhD, autistic, genius, gender ambivalent, queer and kinky as fuck, compulsive over-sharer.’ Some people think this is just a smut fic, but what I like is the story - what would happen if McKay knew he was autistic and queer and had come to terms with himself more? Well, in this case, it changes the entire timeline. There are some tough bits about trauma in there too, but it's mainly about John having a sexual awakening, thanks to McKay. Lots of polyamorous and kinky fun and games. Also, of course, a mcsheppy love story.

I'm currently writing the third main part of the series and horribly stuck, but if I'd actually published it, that would be my favourite.

3. Home for Christmas 25K, M rating

He went into another store, intent on buying novelty socks or something equally silly, when suddenly he caught the strains of Judy Garland and the most heartrending Christmas song ever written.

>Someday soon we all will be together If the fates allow Until then, >we'll have to muddle through somehow

John had no resistance anymore – the tears spilled easier than rain in a monsoon, and there was no choice but to duck out of the store and hide himself behind a convenient pillar while he sobbed, not even mustering a shred of masculine indignation to be getting weepy over Judy Garland. Yeah, he was a sad old queer and he didn’t much care anymore who knew it. He didn’t have to care and he didn’t have the energy left.

I wrote this for secret santa but felt it was a bit bleak, having poured all my difficult xmas feels into the fic, but looking back i feel like it might be my perfect xmas fic. It balances the sweetness of Christmas with the reasons we need the lights to chase off the darkest times.

4. Just Friends series 7K, M rating

They talk and they talk. Into the night. John wishes he’d learned to use his mouth for something other than sucking cock long ago.

“I had it all wrong. I thought you just settled…”

Rodney frowns. “For what?”

“For the look of it… power couple. I thought you chose,” he says.

They’re in his room, sprawled against each other, the mood sad.

“I didn’t let myself think you were trapped. Didn’t know how beat she had you.”

“Yes well I pretended to myself,” Rodney says. “Easier to believe the cage is comfortable than dash yourself to pieces on the bars.”

It started as a simple fic, but then the fic needed some follow-up and I ended up writing a whole lot of drabbles. Sharing here because I'm super proud of how drabble-writing developed me as a writer and I love the soft way it all turned out. Expect lots of gentle, sprawling found family and polyam vibes with a mcsheppy centre. It starts with Keller's canonical controlling intensity developing into a truly toxic relationship for Rodney.

5. Time's come to live a real life 4.5K, E rating

“You act like we played a game and you won, and Jen’s the prize,” Ronon says. “Maybe it’s connected to what you just said. You acting like you finally got the rules of this game figured out. Only I’m not an Earther and I don’t play by your rules. To me, whatever game you’re playing? It’s not real.”

Mcdex, with background shepdex, sheplorne and mcshep and kellerdex feels. Ronon can't understand what jennifer and rodney are trying to do with one another and he shakes rodney into a wake-up call. A more Keller-charitable fic about why McKeller is bullshit.

tagging @notenufcaffeine, @sgatazmy, @acrowbyanyothername, @wonkyelk, @dedkake

[08melancholie]

Hello everybody! Sorr for being so inactive for a very long time, I'm pretty busy. I want to share a project I'm starting right now with you all. This is a very interesting one, as it is nothing like what I've ever written before.

I'm writing a Morbell-centered fic by the name of "To The End Of My Time", which will be written in the form of Arthur's usual journal entries, reimagined by myself. It's going to have undertones of both Marthur and Chartur, along with some others if I add them in the end. I'm very excited to show everyone this piece of work. I am currently six chapters into the fic. I'm not sure how many I'll end up with, but I'm certain it'll be a fun read.

For now, I'm giving you the first chapter to read before I even publish it. A little teaser, since I won't post any chapters until I've got it all written down, so that I don't even give myself a chance to abandon the work. The fic will be posted only on AO3, but will be available to guest accounts too, comments as well as viewing the fic.

Please do enjoy!

I never know how to start these. I guess it's still odd to me. I bought this new journal after the last one got lost in the fire months ago.

Haven't written in the last few months, much less drawn, but I'm starting to see I miss it more than I thought I would. I saw this little thing at the store. So here I am.

I haven't been liking the Grizzlies, especially the travel down from the Northern Grizzlies. And here we are, stuck and so in the worst of the winter. Food wasn't a problem before, and life was pretty good, just for us to get stuck in the western foothills of the mountains.

We were supposed to buy some land Dutch had a lead on, but something about it drove him away—whether the paranoia of being watched by law or the fact it didn't live up to what he had in mind, it's left us wandering more.

We picked up some folks in the Grizzlies, if nothing.

Jenny, a sweet young girl we found on the side of the road, poor thing. All shivering and meek, no words. Dutch didn't want to leave her there.

Micah. Some sleazy little outlaw, or something? Met Dutch's in some bar, apparently, and saved him when was trying to rob some fellers in a bar which didn't go as planned. Dutch says he'll be of use, so I won't question it. He seems full of himself, and Hosea and I aren't sure in this choice. Guess we shall see.

Currently, we're holed up outside of Blackwater. Hosea and Dutch were insisting on it, even if we were thinking about California. Nonetheless, the town proves useful at times, and I often stay there to hunt for any opportunities for us, and I think I might be onto something.

We've finally got money, and the path we've taken was tortuous and slow, but nobody followed us or knows where we headed. Guess we shall see what we're in for.

[croquettish]

14, 15, 25 for end of year! 🩵

thank you so much for the questions!! :D

a fic you didn’t expect to write: oh my god, so many of them honestly. I wrote several fics for birthdays and those were all planned. but in april I started writing a fic with a (somewhat flighty) friend of mine that I definitely didn't expect to write and honestly probably never expected to write but that also might not ever see the light of day bc rn I'm stuck waiting for her to write a section and it's been months. so WE SHALL SEE I think the biggest surprises (aside from the aforementioned WIP) all happened in the second half of the year. I didn't expect to write a rugan fic (DIDN'T KNOW HE COULD STAY ALIVE FOR SOOOOO LONG) and I definitely didn't expect to write the two nancy drew fics that I wrote after the one I wrote for my sister. one of them (the thanos one) was less of a surprise since it had been a wip for almost a decade. but the other one (the grigor one) was a huge surprise since that one had only been plotted out (somewhat) for almost a decade. that said, aside from the probably-forever-wip fic, the biggest surprise of them all is the one that I'm currently writing (albeit very slowly) that will also take a metric fuckton of coding before I can start posting it, so that won't start being posted until sometime next year. the huge surprise there is that I never expected to get into stardew valley, let alone to write fic for it... eight years after it first came out, but that's just how it goes sometimes... honestly, if I had more time right now and wasn't spending the vast majority of my days doing phd research and writing my dissertation, I'd be spending all of my time on that fic just bc it's so damn fun to write. I can't wait for people to get to read that one :D

something you learned this year: this is a good question. I don't think that I learned anything huge but I feel like I learned a lot of little things: I found that I will always be able to surprise myself in one way or another. I really like experimenting with different things and seeing what works out. there's less fear in that for me than other people (apparently) seem to feel, and that knowledge does feel pretty liberating, honestly! I learned that I am a lot funnier than I give myself credit for, or rather than I was always told I was growing up. and I learned that I am not only capable of writing longfic, sometimes longficitis strikes me when it used to be something that I worried I wouldn't be able to make happen. which, in terms of problems to have, is honestly not a bad thing at all :D I also learned that I care a lot less these days about having an actual audience so long as I'm writing what I want to write. like, no one is out there reading my nancy drew fics, and that's fine. I doubt anyone will be reading the stardew valley fic this long after the game came out. and the fic I'm writing with my friend is even less likely to go anywhere. but that's okay! because I'm enjoying myself and that's what matters!!

a fic you read this year you would recommend everyone read: this one also isn't easy. I honestly don't read a ton of fic (especially while I'm writing something myself or busy working) but I will end up with small periods where I read loads of it. my tastes for fic esp can also be a bit all over the place, so I'll list a few (since I know I have a lot of friends from different fandoms on here): Kingdom Come: Deliverance - Hans Capon/Henry of Skalitz - in character and it gets the dynamics right. doesn't make either of them too weepy or too assholeish. just insanely well-done Dragon Age II - Carver/F!Hawke - I am starved for more Carver/Hawke smut but this one is amaaaaaazing and the most in character it could ever possibly be. bathroom sex leading to bedroom sex Dragon Age II - Fenris/F!Hawke - sex pollen and a rescue. just a delicious and super ic well-written fic Resident Evil 2 Remake - Leon Kennedy/Claire Redfield - hhhhh I also yearn for more good porn of them but this really hits the spot. post-canon motel room sex. just really really good all around Baldur's Gate 3 - Durgetash - fellow zhent book club members will have already read this fic but it's by far my favorite iteration of their dynamic that I've seen And then there's the fic that I reread about once a quarter at least because it is simply a Perfect Fic, which was a present from my sister to me for my birthday (very belated present) some years ago: Persona 5 - Yusuke Kitagawa/Ann Takamaki

full list of questions is here!

[cursedonyx]

Ideas for HL fics that I may or may not write

I have too many ideas rushing around in my head so when I start one something else almost immediately takes over so I need to put them all down somewhere or I’ll pop

🧠 – Only an Idea (so far)

🗺️ - Currently Plotting

📝 – Started Writing

📗- Finished

🌶️– Smut (all smuts are aged up)

🍬 – Tooth rotting fluff

Modern Day AU Thingamajigs

🗺️ Sebastian and Ominis get transported the modern day (1800s wizards in modern day hilarity)

🗺️ Ominis is transfigured into a locket by one of his enemies and is only released in the current year – he has to adjust to his new surroundings and come to terms with everyone he’s ever known being dead. Plus the whole Voldemort thing. Who can help him adjust but a modern witch? (modern day au kinda /romance/HP cast mentioned/Harry does NOT like Omi 🥺)

🧠 After MC mysteriously disappears, the entire HL gang find a special time turner that sends them all into the future where they find MC, who has no idea who she really is. Will the gang get her back? (hijinks and hilarity/Imelda joins a rugby team/1800s wizards in the 2020s/they probably go to a concert/angsty/romance/amnesia)

Alternate HL Retelling

📝🍬🌶️ MC is stuck in a time loop where she goes back to the start of fifth year each time it ends, retaining her previous knowledge. On her seventh consecutive run through, she’s determined to get it right. (HL retelling/jaded MC/friends to lovers/MCxOminis/mentions of previous run-throughs/memories of spice/actual spicy scenes/MC goes through varying stages of being dominant)

🧠 Solomon is the one to use AK in the catacombs, and MC leaps in the way to save Sebastian. Something in him snaps when she dies, and Sebastian will stop at nothing to exact his revenge, and Ominis is willing to help. But how far is too far? (Dark!Sebastian)

Post-Hogwarts Bibbly Nonsense

📗🌶️ Sebastian is sent to Azkaban after fifth year despite MC and Omi wanting to protect him, and they work tirelessly to get him released – after several years, they succeed, but he’s a shell of his former self and needs some serious tlc to get back to normal (angsty/pain/romance/smut/wife-sharing/caring MC/engaged OminisxMC/NursingMCxSebastian)

Read it here

🗺️🌶️ At the end of fifth year, it’s not Anne that leaves to get her head together, it’s Ominis. Unable to cope with all that’s happened at the end of fifth year, he leaves Hogwarts in the middle of the night and no matter what MC and Sebastian do, they can’t find him. Several years later, they catch wind of concerning news: someone is systematically killing off members of the Gaunt Family, and their desperation to find their friend reaches fever pitch (Circumstantial Dark!Ominis/married SebxMC/smut/angst/OminisxMC)

📝🌶️ Ominis is captured by his family. When he returns, it’s as if the Gaunts have turned him into their perfect progeny, and he’s completely unrecognisable in character. Sebastian and MC have to find a way to draw out the Ominis they know and love, and their methods are a little unconventional. (locked in a room for a month/OminisxMC/SebastianxMC/Mind-Altered-Dark!Ominis/angst/enemies to lovers/muggleborn MC/smut)

Pure Filth

🗺️🌶️ MC, Seb and Omi’s first threesome (short/smut/Ominis needs coaxing/might include this in my main fic so)

🗺️🌶️ Garreth wants someone to try out his new potion, but after several hundred failed experiments, no one wants to drink it. He slips Ominis the potion when no one’s looking, and only MC can help him overcome the ‘hard’ effects he’s undergoing. Heh. (smut/desperately horny Ominis/Shy and embarrassed Ominis/Subinis)

🧠🌶️ Sebastian shows the world he’s just as happy and cheerful as he’s always been, but inside he’s suffering from all that happened in fifth year. He needs some love. (praise/adoration/Sub!Sebastian/angst/hurt-comfort/smut)

📝🌶️ A vengeful Hobhouse uses a permanent sticking charm to glue Ominis to the first person he walks next to, and that happens to be MC. They manage to get to the Undercroft and have to find a way to get out of their glued clothes. Shame MC wriggles so much. (Pure fucking smut)

🧠🌶️ After fighting a gang of poachers, Sebastian finds himself all tangled up. MC could help him out of this predicament, but why would she when he’s bound, helpless, and so very obviously aroused? (Smut/Bondage/Sub!Sebastian)

Other

📗🍬 A cat adopts Sebastian (cute/fluff)

Read it here

🧠🍬 Sallow Twins & Ominis hijinks (daft/fluffy/mischievous)

🧠 Leander has a crush on Anne. Sebastian is NOT happy. (protective brother Seb/he’s older by five minutes so he’s technically a big brother)

🧠 MC’s period is late. Sebastian and Ominis freak the fuck out. (funny/a bit angsty/she’s not actually pregnant thank fuck)

If y’all get inspired by these feel free to use the prompts, just drop me a credit as an inspo and I’ll do a silly happy dance 🥰 If there's a particular prompt you want me to focus on let me know and I'll try and force my fae-brain to behave and focus on that 💚

Masterlist

[toriafiction]

Lightning in his Eyes and Thunder in his Wings

Author's Note chapter 4

Introducing

Dick "I need to fry some bastards" Grayson

And

Jason "I'll break you if you touch him" Todd

I'm excited about having gotten this far. I personally feel like this is where things really start in a way. Chapters 1 and 2 are backstory, and chapter 3 is the transition, but chapter 4 is the start of what I think of as current time.

You might notice a change in pacing from here on. There won't be any big time skips, just brife mentions of a few weeks passing between point A and point B here and there, but nothing substantial. While the passage of time will be slower, events will pick up.

Years have passed between the events in Titans Tower in chapter 2 and the beginning of chapter 4, and in that time Dick had created a new normal for himself, something that he believed was sustainable. Now, as promised in the story summary, Jason is back and, by merely existing in his space, has awakened something that is going to flip Dick’s world upside down.

Dick isn't human, and he has gotten to complacent with that fact.

This chapter introduces Jason into the story as an interactive character that we are finally getting to see, and I wanted him to come in with a big entrance that felt genuine to the story. This led me to writing my first ever fight scene. This was both easier and harder than I thought it would be. Dick’s sole fight was easy. I wanted to showcase how he used his abilities in a fight and him just being a badass fighter in general, so I just let him kick ass. No problem.

I had a problem after I brought Jason in. I really wanted to have them fighting together, not just in the sense of fighting back to back but actually playing off each other. Such as where Dick rolls across Jason’s back to defend him. I wanted to have more things like that, but I couldn't come up with anything. I even tried looking up fighting videos, and that was a huge bust. I hope I still got the point and the feelings across.

The next problem I had was even worse.

Talking.

I had no idea how to have them interact or what to have them say to each other. I knew the emotions and what the ultimate outcome of the interaction was supposed to be, but I agonized over this tiny little part for weeks. I even wrote around it until I hit the exact same problem with the next chapter.

I was stuck, and at that point, I stepped away from this work for quite a while, and it sat collecting dust in my docs for some time. When I came back, I still didn't know how to write the scene, but I wanted to keep my focus on this story, so this is the point that I started naming chapters. I also changed the name of the fic at this point. I was using a temporary name of "Lightning Strikes Twice." I knew that it wasn't a title I wanted to keep, and while I sometimes worry that my current title may be too long, I am much happier with it.

I finally got over my writer's block with this section while I was at work one day. I was hit with the idea of Dick’s line about Jason being snake bitten, and it seemed to shake everything loose. During my break, I made a rough outline of the scene and jotted down a few ideas for the next, and finally, I was able to move forward again. Yay!

Previous notes- 1st, 2nd, 3rd,