#I need the bitter part of my bittersweet brand

[latenightsimping]

THE EDGE

“...There is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who’ve gone over.” - Hunter S. Thompson, Hell’s Angels

Summary: A part of the deal to freedom included a stay at Pennhurst. It’ll take everything to keep the hope that one day the locked doors will open, the windows will no longer have bars that block the view, and that one day, the name Eddie Munson will be synonymous with the word ‘innocent’. The hope, he never realised, would also come to be synonymous with your name.

Chapter: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

Pairing: Eddie Munson x reader

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: angst, heavy themes of inpatient treatment/hospitalisation, heavy themes of mental health, institutional deprivation of liberties, body injuries, mentions of suicidal ideation, themes of institutional abuse, can be a dark read (continue with that in mind, look after yourselves), canon divergence, Eddie survives the demobat attack, post-S4 timeline, slow burn romance, eventual smut, 18+, eventual fluff, there will be a happy ending

AN: Chapter three is finally here! Many thanks to my lovely boyfriend @mantorokk-writes for test reading and making the header, I'm forever in love with you <3 This series is gonna be a slow work in progress, but thank you for reading so far! Really excited to see where it's gonna go, and how we're gonna get these two out of this pickle. Enjoy!

Taglist: @edsforehead, @idkidknemore, @harrys-tittie, @gaysludge, @smileygoth

A congealed lump of what was apparently mac and cheese, boiled to death vegetables and bitter orange juice. Eddie had become used to shit food long ago, thanks to a lifetime of only buying the cheapest non-brand groceries to try and save costs. But this… This was something else. Fuck, he was surprised it even passed the mark for being fit for human consumption. It reminded him of the stories his old man used to tell about prison food, about how the trick was to eat it without thinking too much, barely savouring the taste before you swallowed. The similarity getting stuck in his throat.

But at least he wasn’t eating his meals in silence anymore. With you sitting opposite him, filling any dead air with talking about the hospital gossip, though he’d given up on trying to follow along after the first apparent affair taking place. But the content didn’t matter. For the first time in so long, maybe even longer than he realised, you had offered him a seat to get out of trouble with no motive behind the action. Had given him his own pack of cigarettes after swindling one from an orderly just before lunch started, the one that seemed to stare at your chest more than your eyes, putting yourself at risk for no gain of your own. It was exceedingly rare to find people that would do something out of the goodness of their hearts, and the question was rattling around his head with such a velocity that it tumbled from his lips before he even realised. 

“Why are you doing this?” 

Even he internally winced at the lack of warmth in his tone, making it sound more like an accusation than a question. But if it offended you, you didn’t act as if it bothered you. Instead, the corners of your lips twitched upwards, eyes drifting from your tray to his own as you tilted your head. 

“What’dya mean?”

Giving himself a few needed seconds to reframe the words in his head with taking a sip of his drink, he swirled the contents of the paper cup, deciding to stare down into it rather than look up. “I mean, why are you helping me? You don’t know me.” 

From the very quick glance upwards he chanced, there seemed to be something there that was bittersweet. Eyes slightly widened, mouth downturned, yet an ever so slight huff of a laugh as you balled up a serviette in your hands. “Trust me, I know how it feels to be the new guy on the wing. The way the others look at you like you’re a fuckin’ chew toy?” 

He’d noticed the way the other patients stared, when the steel door behind him slammed shut. Some didn’t even look over, too caught up in their own internal world. But there’s a certain feeling that can overcome a person when they’re accustomed to having to be on high alert at all times. A certain flash of the eyes that makes your stomach churn, blood pooling to your feet and your mind telling you to run. You studied his face for a moment, a sympathetic smile briefly twitching at your lips. 

“I had someone look out for me too, when I first got here,” you explained, the paper in your hand now being twisted and toyed with as you spoke. “She uh… Her name was Patty. She was this take no shit kinda woman. Taught me the best way to curb the hunger was smoking cigarettes, which orderlies would give pretty girls special treatment, which patients to never go near. That sorta useful shit.” 

Though you smiled, it didn’t reach your downcast eyes. “She got sick last year. Didn’t say much about it, but it took a toll on her. It finally got her a couple of months back. And you know what the worst thing was about it?” 

Plenty of what you were saying was ‘the worst thing’. Being caught on the wrong side of a power dynamic, having to go hungry because nobody cared, patients having to be caregivers because God forbid those that actually got paid to do it actually did their fucking jobs for once. All of those answers dying on his tongue, replaced with a slow shake of his head.

“Nobody came to see her in the end,” you muttered, brows furrowing as your voice cracked. “She told me she had a son, told me the doctors called him and told him, but he never came. I get it, I mean, not many of us have the luxury of seeing people from the outside… But she was on her fucking deathbed, y’know?” 

When your eyes finally met his, glossy with unshed tears that you seemed so determined to never let overspill, there was a look to you that made all the pieces click together. Made the parts of him that he’d kept buried away for self preservation start to rise back to the surface. Taking a firm grasp of his heart and squeezing for good measure. 

The look of pure fear. 

The fear that one day, both of you would end up like Patty. Untethered to the world outside, cast adrift with the other lost souls. Taking the last few rattled breaths with nobody around to hear them, looking up to the sky and the view still blocked with bars. Nobody with spare change for the ferryman, forever stuck. 

“I’m sorry.” It was all he could think to say, no other words seeming quite right. The tone as hollow as he felt, as shaky as the tremors in his hands that never quite seemed to go away. All he could think to say, but the truth. He was sorry you were here, if your proclaimed innocence was to be believed. He was sorry for himself too, deep down. 

“It’s whatever,” you replied, clearing your throat as you tried and failed to staple the look of nonchalance back on your face with a half decent result. “Anyway, don’t worry about your first therapy session, alright? I got it covered.” 

He shot you a small look of incredulity, head tilted to the side as he followed your lead in piling used napkins and cutlery onto his meal tray. “What’dya mean?” 

The smile you gave him next was finally a genuine one, a glimmer in your eye that could only mean mischief. 

“You’ll see.” 

~

You could see the stress levels that you tried so desperately to lower over lunch to begin raising as you and Eddie filed into the day room for group therapy. How his jaw clenched so hard you were surprised he didn’t break enamel, a shortening fuse near a naked flame as he took his seat next to you. Leg bouncing with beats akin to a hummingbird’s heart, chewing at the skin around his ruined nails with eyesight dancing around the room to end up on the tile right in front of him. You couldn’t blame him; he was walking into the unknown, with no idea where the hell he would end up. You remembered the feeling well. 

Others clad in the same off white uniform as you took their respective seats around you, the energy in the room a palpable, frantic buzz. Nerves, apathy, distaste and mocking. You could feel it all, see it in the faces around you that you’d come to know in the years that you’d been imprisoned. Small naked flames, that could be as harmless as a match or as intense as thermite. The day could go either way. And it would depend on the questions posed to them.

Dr. Madden made his way through the doors, adjusting the thick horned rimmed glasses that permanently perched on his beak-like nose as he took his seat. You’d never liked him; he was nosy, even for a psychiatrist, always putting two and two together to end up with an equation that made no fucking sense. Nothing could ever be simple, in his eyes. Someone’s violent outburst had some convoluted reasoning to do with Daddy issues and not being hugged enough as a child, rather than someone just needing a fucking cigarette and not being given one. It took everything within you not to roll your eyes into the back of your skull as he cleared his throat to begin. 

“Good afternoon everyone,” he began, eyes settling over each patient for a brief second before focusing on Eddie. “We’re welcoming a new person into the wing today. Have you had any sort of therapy like this before, Mr. Munson?”

Eddie’s reply was a brief shake of his head, glance not leaving the cracks of the floor as he fiddled with the split ends of his hair. Madden’s bushy eyebrow raised a fraction as he sat himself slightly forward. “Well, we start with a brief check in. How we’re feeling, what we’d like to talk about in today’s session. Perhaps you could start us off? You seem nervous today.” 

You couldn’t hold back a scoff, the psychiatrist’s beady eyes narrowing on you as you fished through your pockets for your pack of cigarettes. The look on his face evident that he wasn’t amused at your perceived insolence to his ‘therapeutic process’. He could shove that process where the sun didn’t shine, as far as you were concerned. 

“He’s a newbie, of course he’s gonna be nervous,” you shrugged, waving over an orderly with a lighter, who seemed to be watching you with ever so slight trepidation as he ignited the flame that you used to puff life into your cigarette. Huffing out an exhale of smoke that was aimed in his direction. “Bit of a redundant question, isn’t it?” 

Madden was a tough nut to crack, but you’d managed to get the veins in his neck bulging a couple of times. You just needed to know which buttons to press, and it seemed you hit one with a jab to his reasoning. “I don’t find it redundant at all,” he answered with a smile slightly too smug for your liking. “But if you think that an example of a check in could help, maybe you could go first instead?” 

You took a sharp inhale as you gave a grimace of indifference, face scrunched up as you jerked your head towards an older lady that seemed on the edge of her seat to talk. “Why don’t you get Miriam to do it? From what I remember, she was just starting to open up about her fucker of an ex husband.”

Was using another patient’s anger, something you knew got them started into an hour long tangent until they were red in the face unethical? Maybe. But it was every man for himself out here, and you didn’t have anything akin to backup in the process. As expected, the woman launched into a tirade, screechings which contained the words “useless bastard” and “should have divorced him before he did it to me!” melding into the background as you shot a smug smirk in Madden’s direction. To his credit, he was hiding his distaste well, his only giveaway the slight flush creeping above his collar.

For most of the session, you managed to evade the heat from coming towards you and Eddie. A few more prods to Miriam, staying silent when the psychiatrist asked if anyone else had anything to add. A question to old man Hardy about the house he got kicked out from before being transferred, each person being used like a shield to hide from the questions you knew Madden had for you. You knew you were fucked from the moment he put his hand up to cut off Duane about his teenage trauma prematurely, eyes fixed on you as he sat back in his chair. 

“Does Duane’s story resonate with you?” he asked with a heightened pitch of voice, head slightly tilted as his lips twitched upwards. It caused your back to straighten, knowing full well where he was going with this. Somewhere you swore never to go back to, ever since the nightmares ever so slightly decreased and the flashing images weren’t permanently burned into the back of your eyelids. 

“No.” 

The words reverberated around clenched teeth, knuckles turned white as you gripped the cracked pleather of the cushion you sat on. Out of your peripheral vision, you saw Eddie staring at you with a slight questioning to his glance, and it made your gut twist even more. You hated how suddenly the tentative power dynamic had switched. How your already lacking control was going to spiral even further, if Madden willed it. 

“I think it might, though,” the good doctor continued, the slight smirk being poorly hidden as his head tilted to the side. “You had a lot happen when you were eighteen, didn’t you? When you made the choice to-”

“I’m not going to talk about it,” you snapped back, folding your arms as a poorly constructed buffer between you and the man opposite. Your eyes glanced at the clock on the wall, a slight ease of tension as you realised the time. “Not with only five minutes left of the session.” 

“But you’re going to have to talk about it sooner or later,” he countered, daring to look slightly sympathetic as he regarded you. “You’ve been here two years, and you’ve never talked about that night. It doesn’t show much progress, now does it?” 

You wanted to stand up, pick up your chair, and crash it over the top of his head. How the fuck would he know what ‘progress’ you’d been making? How much work you’d had to put into yourself, rationalising and justifying everything about the night that changed the path of your life, so much that you probably could never step foot on the original trail if you tried. How you still tortured yourself with what you could have done differently, the actions that you did take haunting you like spectres? Madden knew nothing of how often you’d dragged yourself off the precipice time and time again, nothing but bloody fingernails and a quickly ebbing will to live, as you weighed up the decisions of falling asleep to never wake up again against staying alive to do everything in your power to clear the stain on your name.

To Madden’s credit, he didn’t push further. Letting the silence hang in the air, perhaps a non-verbal push that might get you talking. It might have worked, once upon a time. When you had no secrets to hide, too worried about what others thought, wanting to please people so much that it deprived you of happiness. But that was before you were branded a psycho, tossed into this place with the key thrown away. Now, you couldn’t give a shit about what others thought. 

Except, there was a way your stomach dropped when you looked over to see the way Eddie looked at you. Not with disgust or horror, which you were used to by now. There was slight concern in his eyes, mixed with empathy, the combination making you want to squirm in your seat. You didn’t even know each other, yet his humanity seemed to still be intact for now, seeing another person clearly struggling and not being able to do anything about it. 

You decided to stare at the clock on the wall for the rest of the session, filtering out all other noises and focusing on watching the minute hand strike closer and closer until time was up. 

As you put away chairs, you expected Eddie to ask you about it. Maybe try to pry, or get answers for questions that could be in his own mind. But he didn’t. He stayed silent as you both wandered back to the table you met at, sitting down with him wordlessly reaching for the deck of cards in the middle and starting to shuffle. And silent you stayed. Going through the motions of a routine you knew too well; free time, ‘music’ therapy - as if listening to the same vinyl of Bach twice a week for two years would do anything other than make you want to smash your head against the chipped white walls. Dinner consisting of a brick of so-called ‘meatloaf’ that you knew well enough to avoid even attempting to eat, settling for tasteless vegetables and vaguely lime flavoured Jell-o instead. 

Even silent when the orderly Nguyen told you to haul ass to the laundry room for work placement, and to take your new ‘friend’ with you. You were brought out of the routine of folding sheets when you heard Eddie clear his throat, looking up to see him slightly rattled as he sorted various clothing into separate piles. 

“Hey uh… You don’t have to say anything if you don’t wanna, but… Thanks. For today.” You saw the corners of his lips twitch upwards, a ghost of a smile as his eyeline landed on the messy stack of undershirts. “Didn’t have to stick your neck out of me, but you did. Appreciate it.”

You mustered the leftover social energy you had to lift your shoulders into a slight shrug, rubbing the back of your head whilst the other hand took your weight as you leaned slightly on the table. “It’s nothing. Sorry for not being so talkative I just… Still don’t wanna talk about why I’m here, y’know?” 

A curt nod was his reply at first, lips a narrow line and eyes darting around as if he was thinking hard about something. Finally glancing towards the door, then around the room, as if to make double sure that what he was about to say wouldn’t be overheard. He looked panicked; either a deer in the headlights or a lion ready to defend itself, you weren’t sure. 

“They said I killed people.” 

It was so quiet you barely picked up on it, and you had to admit, it took you aback. There was an initial flight or flight reaction that doused your autonomic system, as if his words set off a red light in your head and you had to start looking for an improvised weapon. However, that was pure instinct, only for a second before logic took over. For someone who was apparently a killer, he certainly did look hollow about it all. Besides. Those in glass houses…

“Did you do it?” you mumbled back, eyes leaving his to take the pressure of both of you, hands busying themselves with folding the now grey sheet in front of you, toying with the frayed corner to try and conceal it in the fold somehow. 

“No.”

You found yourself at a precipice. He had stuck his neck out to tell you his charge, not knowing if you’d stick around or bolt and leave him on his own again. It was a sign of trust; an olive branch, that you could either accept or leave hanging between you. You had only known Eddie a day. Less than that, maybe seven hours, tops. But so far, he seemed to have his wits about him. He didn’t strike you as the judgemental type. He didn’t pry, and he tried to distract you when you were at your lowest, instead of offering useless advice or forcing you to open up. When you looked up at him, there was no hint of deceit that you could tell. He was staring at you with those intense eyes of his, an expression reading both ‘I’m telling the truth’ and ‘dear God, I hope you fucking believe me’. 

For so long, you had wanted reinforcements in this place so badly. To not fight alone, to have backup. In the outside world, no way would you trust someone this fast. But this was Pennhearst. A place with different rule sets. You needed to take the help wherever it came from, and hope it didn’t blow back in your face later. 

You needed to give him something in return. 

You didn’t falter with eye contact as you said the words you thought you’d never say. The words that made your stomach churn, made you want to flinch as you said them. “They said I killed people, too.” 

You saw the look on his face to be one of bewilderment, eyes scanning you up and down as if he’d never seen you before. You wondered if that’s what you’d looked like not five seconds ago, mirroring each other as you confessed your sins. “Did you do it?” 

“No.”

The crease between his eyebrows seemed to smooth, after what felt like hours of staring at each other, the only other sounds the rhythmic knocking of the decrepit industrial dryers. It was you who finally broke the silence, busying yourself again with grabbing the pile of undershirts near you by the bottom and pulling it towards you to begin folding. “I don’t expect you to believe me. And if you don’t want me to know about what happened, I’m not gonna push it.” You shook your head as you frowned at the fabric in your hands.

“Why do you believe me? When I say I didn’t do it?” 

You glanced back up at him to find a worried expression on his face, staring at you like he couldn’t quite believe you. As if it was too good to be true, to finally be believed. You wracked your brain for an answer, only to shrug and say the first thing on your mind. “Because guilty people don’t look so frightened of their consequences. I suppose on a subconscious level, they know they deserve the hell they created for themselves.”

You heard a sound which you figured to be a sharp exhale of air through his nose, most likely an attempt at a wry laugh. “You don’t look frightened.”

Your lips turned downward as you frowned again. “You get good at hiding it after a while, I guess.”

You heard your name being called, so softly that your heart nearly shattered. Not your last name being barked out with disdain, or in a patronising tone like a shrink would. It was said like somebody actually gave a shit. You looked up to be met with a look that was one of genuine concern, his eyebrows furrowed and lips slightly parted as if he was wondering what to say. 

It was getting too intense for your liking. 

Shaking your head as you cleared your throat, you flashed a tight smile as your folding became hurried. “Finish that pile quick, yeah? Orderlies hit the roof when you don’t finish your chores on time.” 

To his credit, Eddie didn’t push it. The rest of the time being filled with small talk and comfortable silences, until your names were called to be taken back to your room for the night. The motions of getting ready to bed had become mechanical a long time ago, on autopilot as you brushed your teeth and changed clothes. Hearing the call for lights out, and getting plunged into darkness against your will. You knew that first checks were in an hour. 

You had sixty minutes to cry to yourself about finally being seen, about not being treated like a criminal that deserved the way you were being treated. Hugging the pillow to your face and willing yourself not to be making a sound, clutching the cheap cotton between your fingers as if your life depended on it. Sixty minutes until you needed to shove the emotions back down, and face tomorrow, same as you always did. 

Same as you always did, but at least you had someone on your side. 

[theorist-influencer-untitled]

6.23.24 Sunday

12:46 am

Still, have windblow...

I did a live stream in Tagged, hoping that my voice passed through or able to went in...

I still feel bitterish that I wanna leave Cavite but I know I can't... Unfair people here in this island of Philippines... There are some good Filipinose and bad Filipinose...

I mentioned my love for my cousin white on my Tagged Live awhile ago but hoping that I have voice on that stream...

7:15 am

Still,have windblow...

Uncle DD and Aunt Karen went out last night...

7:28 am

Still,have windblow...

Hydrocortisone is just for a week, an antibiotic cream but still if it is hot, it will go back these sweat rash... After hydrocostisone,will use this " Healmusz" it is a soothing cream for sweat rash or eczema due to sweat rash or any fungal infection even psoriasis...

I have to maintain a mositurizer as well on my sweat rash. Probably, a soothing cream of anything... Aside from these... Cetaphil or Soothing Gel can be used...

These creams are part of my borrowed or loaned, these coming from Lazadah...

The good thing about "Healmusz" it has a colloidal oatmeal which a treatment for itchy skin and rashes....

7:40 am

The discoloration I'm trying to figure out but it lessen on hydrocortisone but if my life is cheap like this, it will go back from time to time...

I should only work in call center coz it is the coldest office to work on that can heal my sweat rash...

This happens if your skin is a "skin of royalty or skin of artist or super senstitive skin"...

7:48 am

My son-dog is eating his breakfast and he loves waffles/ fluffy pancake...

8:07 am

Drinking my coffee...

Bittersweet= Bitterish

Why did you get married,cousin white??? Shit... My life is nonsense now here....Some Filipinose is damaging me...

8:15 pm

It is a dream that you can't have coz of this flatten situation.... Dying for nothing... Aging being nothing... Bitterish!

8:23 am

Not my ideal life here....

I love my cousin-white...

Hating this unfair trap on me here in Cavite? They removed me in "work-force"...

I need money and job and future... I feel bitter!!!

8:40 am

This is "demonic magic"...

There is true magic! Believe me,there is...

9:23 am

This Uncle Jun is starting to be a hidden truth but fakers, now cleaning the kitchen supposed to be I will wash my clothes... Then,he is reacting to throw stuff that I buy from lazadah... Then he will plan to sell it coz we are just only 3 of us me,him and my nana which is scary not my ideal life with him...

This is Uncle DD is a branded twin here beside us... Crazy situation...

I hate it that DD is the baby here...

10:49 am

Uncle Jun is super caring on Uncle DD's sake... Hmmm....

10:54 am

Uncle DD got their old rattan chair...Very bonjing...

11:01 am

I can't take these bonjing and seller of these house or family....

11:17 am

Uncle Jun or Uncle DD wanted to bring our stuff in their HQ....I said we can't buy new stuff here... If there will be a new stuff then we can release the things here...

My lazadah stuff are just representation but I still wanna buy a branded stuff... I have an airfryer from Lazadah and blender as well... Gets?

If I will visit thier fucking HQ I will buy them brand new stuff... Me first not anyone.... If I have money by that time to visit their fucking HQ!

11:23 am

Uncle DD,Uncle Jun and Kuya Bong...

12:42 noon

Still,have windblow...

I feel bitterish... I need money and job... I wanna leave Cavite but I know I can't...

I hate some FilipiNOSE angels... I wanna travel and I wanna have future, I really want my cousin-white!!! ( double meaning ) GRRRR!!!

I feel embarass for 17 years, they just put me in the center of embrassment! Some FilipiNose discredit my college diploma.. I feel angry 17 years!

They removed me here in the work-force!

We need extra efan here,Grrrr!

1:07 pm

I hate this Bonjing for asking if my air-fryer is still working.. Of course yes and I'm using it if I have money to cook there or bake...

That is my first air-fryer angels!

1:10 pm

I'm super self-pitying coz they made me poorish ... I feel embarass coz of my situation and our situation here... The original stuff in the house are all gone and the new stuff are my stuff which I bought from Lazadah coz it is my starter stuff or a symbolism of a bettter future...

Like I want a much more branded brand of airfryer... I want a nose perfection ( double meaning ) Grrr! I feel self-pity!!

3:21 pm

My gcash is hacked as well and I hate the group of INC who can hack... It is just loan and I can't ope... INC are traitor... Group ofJoshua Ortoya perhaps and the people in savemore...

3:34 pm

Gcash sent me a message to turn off the developer option... But if I'm going live in Tagged to be able my voice can pass through on video or on Tagged, I should turn on the developer...

Weird! I ordered stand fan coz I need efan here... John needs efan as well... We can't fix the bigger ac coz they don't have extra money even the Bonjing's group.... Uncle Jun is assisting on food and that's the only thing that he can assist here... He is using my efan coz 2 efan are already dead here....

Now,thank God I was able to order a stand fan lazadah brand but I know it will be good like my air-fryer and blenders here.... But looking forward to buy a much more higher brand again like Asahi stand fan...

I need to clean my room, I need efan, I have sweat rash...

4:07 pm

The lazadah should give the desk fan around 400 not more than 500 these brand orofan, golden eagle & crown... For beginner's luck brand. They made it 500 pesoses up angels!

5:14 pm

I ordered John his golden eagle desk fan 16 inches neon green, big leaf... It is better to take precaution than to be late....

5:22 pm

I still need to buy John his diaper cloth washable, I think I need 6 to 7 washable or more... So,that he will not mess around the house... He will poops on the floormat but the peeing it is somehow hard to train him on the floormats coz peeing for them means they are getting that spot as their territory...

If I marry someone has money I need a disposable diaper for John, I think for 24 hours John needs 7 to 8 diapers per day...

5:32 pm

I'm out of money on the loan that I got... I need Ely again for my coffee and toiletries...

I don't like them here ( Uncle DD & Uncle Jun ) for pulling me down and I will cry if I can't have my retinols and lotions...

5:43 pm

I don't like Uncle DD for being fakers as well they don't care about my original upbringing, my original toilteries even the basics they didn't help these past months, for about a year???

This Uncle Jun only foodish he can assist me... I want a nose perfection.

7:21 pm

Still,have windblow...

I hate being flatten... Nobody wants me or they are with someone that I want a pretty face and able to speak English...

Why, I can't get a bf who can speak English and handsome aside from my cousin-white.... I want a cute face now angels...

9:31 pm

Still,have windblow...

I feel bitterish doing my laundry manually though with gloves it is bitterish... I'm losing my entity as Barbie...We have washing machine but we are not using it coz we are on thrift... Watching "cottage fairy" while washing my clothes.

I wanna go back to gym.. I miss to be the center of my friends and some good new friends but I want me prepared, not this way...

I still feel bitter that my actual cousin-white is already married and I hate being trap here in Cavite...

I feel fat,ugly and wrinkled without any history... I have complex... I miss having attention. I really wanna do nose perfection coz I lost my future already and I wanna recover it...

I really, really feel ugly these days... It's hard for me to find a bf... My main point of saying life would be simple supposed to be with my cousin-white, it doesn't mean simple cheap. I mean simple coz I can have a future now and start to have a better life with him...

For sure my cousin white and I will have the same point of view since for sure they are middle-class and we were middle-class that I can't go back... I was spoiled, nicely spoiled...

11:09 pm

Rinsing my clothes, I guess it is not an obstacle on their door and to their spaceship here. Uncle DD and Aunt Karen went out already even Harvey...

That's their door... The brown new door...

[katreal-fic]

Day 4 — for #fictober 10/04/19

Prompt: “I know you didn’t ask for this.”

Fandom: Homestuck

Warnings: Cursing, 2nd Person POV, Thoughts of Self Harm, fatalism, Descriptions of Temporary Death, Internalized Self Hatred

This is not a happy one. Sorry.

Characters: Dirk Strider & Dirk Strider (spoiler he doesn’t like himself much)

First | Previous | Next

x-x-x

You feel like you’re losin’ your mind.

Dirk > Pass the Time

The days drag by, a whirl of frantic activity where nothing absolutely happens. You throw yourself into work, but none of that work is actually worth shit. It’s all literal garbage. You’re lost in a haze that paints the walls a brilliantly familiar shade of green even if in your head you know it’s mostly neutral tones, metal and concrete. Your eyes slide off the product you’re supposed to be improving for Crockercorp as a favor, searching for--you don’t know. You feel like you should just be able to look and see and understand what it is you should be doing. What you should be working towards.

You know what you should be working towards. The what-ever-the-fuck contraption that rests dismantled on your work-bench. A favor for Jane. There’s a bug. A bug her engineers can’t squash. And even if you’ve turned into the world’s highest profile shut-in over these last couple years you still want-need to help your friends. To be useful, because that shit gives you purpose. Or it should. You just aren’t feelin’ it right now. Scraps of metal and half-gutted projects litter the surfaces of your workshop, but fuck it none of this matters. 

Right now you see nothing because it’s laughable. This is what you’ve resorted to spending your time on? Tinkering with toys? Any purpose you could grab at doesn’t matter. Irrelevent.  The one thing you were created for; it’s finished. Done. 

You aren’t even upset about it. It’s a fact, not a question. After preparing all your lives for something, only to have that final climactic moment pass, letting you and everything you love slide into irrelevance... 

What is left for you now?

Fuck, you want to take your wrench to your own skull and dig those slimey invasive questions out. The only reason you don’t is because you know such a death would be neither just, nor heroic (even if you think ridding the world of your horseshit might be a heroic cause of its own sometimes) so you’d just revive fit as a fiddle and bloody as hell, and you can’t be bothered to clean that shit up, especially when that blood and gore has a chance to splatter into the innermost workings of delicate electronics and fuck everything up. Even if your mood decided to take a swing for the depressive, and maybe nothing matters right now, the logical part of your brain that feels unnervingly like reading your autoresponder’s red text is calling you an idiot for letting chemical responses rule your organic flesh-lump of a brain. You’d think, as a god, having transcended biology considering you can’t fuckin’ die, you wouldn’t have to deal with this shit anymore.

It’ll pass. It always does. You throw the wrench onto the table when you find yourself looking at it for too long and make like a tree. Obviously you are not in the headspace to work today. 

You fold yourself into the crawlspace above the living room instead, your heart contracting painfully in your chest, as you look around the comparatively empty space even after all these years of living here. Your shit. All the shit bro’d left you. Shit that’d survived 400 years of sea-air and 6 months of game-time and the literal birth of the universe. Lost on the other side of that gate. You hadn’t even thought to go back for it. Hadn’t even occurred to you that you’d miss it. 

All you had was your shades, and whatever data you’d had uploaded onto them locally. Roxy might be able to hack into what remained of sburb’s network. Maybe. If you asked. Maybe she could retrieve your data, if nothing else. All the interviews, and notes. Personal shit. Things neither you, nor AR had considered important to back-up in his active New-World-Order archive.

Personal shit hadn’t been important when your destiny was to create a new world. 

You thought you’d want to move away from the past. To start anew. Yet as echos of lives you-yet-not-you never lived bear down at you, you find yourself grasping at straws to keep the core of yourself intact.

You yearn for a needle. Thread. Soft fabric under your fingers. In another life, the one activity that had allowed you to zen the fuck out and block out the fitful sound of a baby crying because it was too hot out and there was shit all you could do about it. In another life, it’d calmed you, muting the distant chatter of FASTER BETTER STRONGER ALWAYS STRONGER and the constant chorus of laughter.

Maybe you should try it. Stitch the fuck out of your heart. Close up the widening rips and tears allowing your own thoughts to seep through. 

You never asked for this.

You know you didn’t ask for this.

Your whole shtick was digging deep into yourself and cutting away the bits you don’t like, only to find it didn’t fucking matter because all of you is garbage and you can never change.

You’d just wanted the time to be better.

Maybe you’d wasted that in trying not to get worse.

You want to talk to Roxy. 

You want to talk to Jane.

You even want to talk to Jake.

Most of all, you want to talk to Dave.

But how can you talk to Dave like this?

You’d taken one look at Davepeta and never could completely step out of the shadow of oil and raging green flames. It loomed in the back of your mind, waiting for the silence to allow the growl of dogs to creep forward again. The shadow of death hovering over you. And honestly? That wasn’t so bad. You don’t mind death. Dyin’ in battle ain’t so bad even if you wish you’d been able to be the one to skewer the bastard. Your last memory was of the kid flying away. Injured, but safe. Off to fulfill his destiny. You much prefer being anchored there  than in hot summer days and bruises and babies crying because you’re too wrapped up in your own horseshit to care. Callous. Cold. A decade and change of neglect you know screwed Dave up. He told you. A hug. On a roof. Under a krypton green sky looking over a ruined city waiting for the world to burn. At least that memory is yours.

...isn’t it?

You’re lost. One day you worry you won’t crawl your way back out. Or if you do, it won’t be you any longer.

First | Previous | Next

[thecameronchronicles]

Pumping More Than Iron

TW: PURE SMUT! Language. Semi-public sex. 

SUMMARY: A gym day with your boyfriend, Rafe, turns extremely sexual.

WORD COUNT: 2500

*Requested*

Pumping More Than Iron

There was always something bittersweet about the day’s he’d workout. The bitterness came in the sight of his muscles at attention beneath whatever brand of athletic apparel he’d decided on for this specific workout that deepened your despair in his return to find him coated in a glossy sheen of sweat that made your mouth water but his muscles too sore to satiate your appetite. 

Whereas the saccharine image was erotic enough to play through the ways in which you would entertain yourself in his absence, paling in comparison to the way he’d make you come undone beneath him with little attempt. Of course, he’d make up for this as soon as he could as he was desperate to keep you happy, and yet, the thrill of having him in this way following a workout was always denied to you. 

This was when he’d asked you if you’d go with him, taking the spot of Topper or Kelce, who had apparently forgotten their weekly routine, you struggled to keep your excitement concealed. It left him chuckling at the way you’d bounce off of your toes and hurry to change into your own ensemble, returning to him incredibly mouth watering. 

“How the fuck am I supposed to focus when you look like this?” He asked, hands falling to your hips as he always had a way of making you feel as if you were constantly desired by him. His hands making every excuse in every setting to claim you before every set of eyes and his words validating this in dirty whispers meant to raise your blood pressure; which he did often, and quite well. 

“Maybe that's my plan…” You teased as he cocked his jaw, taking in the details of your braids he’d imagined wrapped in his grip as you’d descend onto your knees for him-not to mention the way your leggings hugged your curves and chosen top accentuated the rise of your breasts, leaving the parts of you he adored most now on full display. 

“Now I remember why I never asked you before…” You pushed playfully against his chest before leading to his truck and therefore to the gym. 

Upon arriving, he was immediately in the role he portrayed best; lecherous and possessive. And you adored it. You loved how he had to make it a point that everyone knew you were his. It was something you favored in contrast to most guys your age thinking it was more attractive to appear indifferent-how wrong they were. Lucky for you, Rafe understood just how special you were and in turn you reciprocated compassion to him as well as so many simply misunderstood him. 

“I’m usually done in an hour or so and then we can go eat if you want…” He explained as you prepped the treadmill beneath your manicure, tapping the settings you found acceptable before acknowledging him with a nod. A sweet kiss would finally separate you as you’d focused on your motivational playlist before feeling his eyes at your back. 

Every so often, you couldn’t help but entertain your curiosity as you found him eyeing you from the rowing machine behind you. His eyes were gluttonous for your motions, a glisten of perspiration extending your glow as he’d grin and shake his head with disbelief of just how beautiful you were, but also validating why he’d kept you away from the gym as you were too distracting. 

You had walked two miles before you’d need a break, not from the ache in your muscles however, but from the one developing between your thighs as your exercise only seemed to strengthen your need for him. This worsened once you turned to find him on a specific machine, pulling two large paddles before him, his entire torso tightening in the strain of each muscle, ropes of his prior workouts showcased as you couldn’t help but bite your lip. But he could have you reacting this way with such innocent actions; checking the mail, driving his car, even just lifting his eyes across the dining room table and you’d be willing to let him take you then and there…

“Need a spotter?” You asked as he’d now moved to the bench press, positioned beneath the weights custom to his limitations as he’d flash you a smile while wrapping his fingers around the cold metal above him. 

“Not sure you’d actually be much help, baby…But you’re welcome to watch…” He teased as you slowly nodded, noticing how you were nearly alone, if not for the two guys on the other side of the gym, far too invested in their own workouts to notice you. Because of this, the most devilish of ideas crossed your mind, one you decided you’d entertain as you straddled his waist just as he’d begun his reps. 

“Babe-”

“I’m just watching…” You explained, face illuminated with mischief, as he’d shake his head before attempting to focus on his task. You would allow him to become invested in a series of lifts and descents before rolling your hips against him, his eyes immediately darting to you as he spoke your name in warning. 

“I like watching you-” He scoffed as your fingers ran up his torso, marveling at how hard his abdomen tensed to the mix of your touch and his motions. 

“Babe-”

“You look SO good…” You were shameless, acting as if you were completely alone and within the confines of your room, your fingers running down your body from your neck to your thighs as he struggled to keep his pace or a single shred of focus as you’d continue. 

“If you don’t stop…” His words were cut off by the sight of your fingers moving into your leggings, as his eyes flashed to the direction of those still remaining in the gym. 

“Oh…Rafe…” You breathed his name in the way you knew drove him mad and the way he favored secondary to that of your desperate moaning that came at the crest of your orgasm. 

He would watch you pleasure yourself for a moment, your hips continuing to roll over him, as he was torn to take you then on the bench without a care of a revoked membership for public indecency as he knew it would have been well worth it, allow you to get yourself off in the middle of the gym, or pull you into a closed room and offer relief to what you clearly needed.

“I want you to fuck me, Rafe…I want you inside me…” His jaw clenched as he’d force his weights back above his head, a loud crash drawing all eyes to you, as he’d collected your hand and led you into the direction of the locker room at the back of the gym. 

Taking you to the far edge of the room concealed from the front door by only a few inches, neither one of you cared as he shoved you against the cold metal before taking your lips into a harsh collision against his own. As always, his kisses were feverish and demanding, but held a specific compassion in his need to both cherish and control you. This was shown in the smooth line drawn beside your tongue with his own but the cruel grip at your jaw. 

“God, you drive me fucking crazy…I should have fucked you then and there…but only I get to see that pretty little face twist like it does when I make you come-” He breathed upon the break of the kiss.”

“Please Rafe…I meant it…I need to feel you…” 

“Yeah?” He smirked, finding a sense of power beneath your desperation. 

“How bad?” You’d take his hand to your pussy, your leggings having been soaked at their seam through a pair of thin panties seemingly useless to keep you concealed from your arousal. 

“Shit…” Your fingers fisted at his shirt, crumpling it lifetless beneath your grasp as he grinned wildly as if having learned a secret. 

“Then take what you want baby…” He grinned, sitting on the edge of the bench just beside you, resting with his palms at rest at his back before you’d licked your lips and motion onto your knees. 

Half exhilarated and half worried, your eyes flashed out the door before looking up to the way he’d observed you. Such excitement behind his eyes that sent your own pulling into a devotion to grant him pleasure. Just as much as he loved feeling you take him past your lips  and into your throat, you loved the reactions it brought from him-and more than that, the loss of dominance then given to you. 

“Good girl…” He praised as you’d taken him at depth, his hand wrapping around your hair while your fingers ate into his thighs for stability. But where you would have usually taken your time luxuriating your tongue at every inch of his cock, you were instead focusing on his more sensitive areas. This consisted of his balls, heavy with a necessary release, and his head, both of which were manipulated to perfection by your skilled tongue. 

“Holy fuck!” He grunted, his voice echoing in the room around you, your body tensing at how anyone could come upon you at any moment, and how it thrilled you just as much as it terrified you. But you wanted this just as badly as he needed it, and so you continued, quickening your motions upon doing so until his excess was across your palette and his hips began to buck to a close release. 

“You know I like to come in your tight little pussy…” He explained, pulling you away from him as you popped off of him with a gasp, teary eyes wiped by his thumbs, before you were lifted to your feet. 

“Lay down.” He ordered as you were stretched onto the same bench, in view of the door if you were to turn your head, as he was quick to remove your leggings and panties, before pulling you over his shoulders. 

“So fucking wet for me…” You nodded, biting into your hand to keep quiet as he tangled his fingers in a collection of both of your hands. 

“You had no problem riding my dick out there…so now you’re gonna let them hear what the consequences are-” He explained while lifting his tongue from you to speak, returning with vigor as you’d oblige, his name uttered beneath a desperate exhale. 

The vibrations offered by his moaning deepened your pleasure as the sudden penetration of his fingers sent a gasp to interrupt your groans. 

“Rafe!”

“What do you want, baby?” He asked, huffing, leaning over you and basking in how his curled fingers now made you tremble beneath him.

“You-” You winced. 

“Me? What part, huh? My fingers?” You nodded as he shook his head in disapproval. 

“That’s pretty selfish baby, what do I get out of it?” He chuckled, relishing in how you were just that desperate. 

“Please Rafe, I’ll do anything, just-”

“Just what? Huh?” He tomented you, needing to hear those vulgar words from such pretty lips. 

“Just fuck me, PLEASE!” He chuckled before bowing his head into you. 

“I don’t have a condom…”

“I don’t care!”

“Baby-”

“Shit! Rafe…please!” He bit his bottom lip, watching you so needy underneath him, “Please…” You continued as he hesitated for a second before cocking his jaw with a pensive pause. 

“You’re gonna come, okay-”

“But I want us both to-” He would interrupt you. 

“I wasn’t done, baby…You’re gonna come for me, make me wet enough so you can make me come with your hand, alright?” You nodded, eager for any release, as he’d pull you over his lap, pulling himself inside of you as he began a series of slow bobs by directing your hips. 

“Fuck, you feel so good…” He groaned into your shoulder, teeth grazing your chilled skin as you nodded in agreement to referencing him. 

Although you rode him often, and well, it never seemed to be enough. Especially when the thrill of change was upon you,  as this was the first time he’d made you his in such a public place. Prior to this, the most public it had been was within his truck, but still concealed from most prying eyes. But with this, at any second you could be uncovered, and it was this that pulled you to that edge quicker than you were used to. 

“No-You’ve done that enough…” He explained as you led your hand to your clit, quickly exchanged for his own. 

“You’re so sexy, do you have any idea what you do to me baby? Huh?” You remained silent to the rush of pleasure surging through you. 

“THIS!” He clenched his jaw, rutting up into you as you belted out in a mix of pain and pleasure; pain born from the stretch and pleasure from just where he’d bottomed out. 

“Rafe-” You whimpered, only managing to warn him by the use of his name as he nodded, pulling the back of your neck towards him as he nodded against your forehead. 

“Come on my cock, baby. Make it nice and wet so I can feel good for you…ride me until you come baby-fuck me just how you like…” You nodded, whimpers and curses of his name continuing as his fingers quickened. 

“FUCK!” You screamed followed by a silent whisper as he’d allow your body the rush of your high before shuffling uncomfortably beneath you to his own aching need of a release teased by yours. 

“My turn…” You spoke breathlessly while moving onto your knees, his hand reaching for your breast to appreciate it for just a moment, until your hand came to his shaft, already twitching to your grasp. 

“You close already baby?”

“I told you-what you do to me…”

“Good…I want you to come, Rafe…Please…” You endorsed as he nodded before allowing his head to fall loose in slack. 

“Keep going baby…just like that-fuck yeah…” You’d tease him with the hseathing of his cock within your lips, offering a few generous thrusts to the back of your throat, only to withdraw him once he’d begin to move violently of his own guidance. 

“I’m gonna fucking come baby-You’re gonna make me come!” He explained with a deep groan and clenched teeth as you nodded, eyes locked to his as he projected that supposed ‘effect’ within your hand coating you completely in his sticky release. A smile of victory was worn well over your face as you’d lift this to your lips. 

“Mmm…” 

“Get your ass in my truck-'' Your eyes widened. 

“I’m taking you home-” He pulled his shorts back over him, assisting in your leggings in the nick of time as you’d believed the moment had finished. But just before you left the locker room, he’d move behind you with his breath hot on your ear. 

“I’m gonna make you come so hard that you won’t be able to work out for weeks…And you’re gonna make me for interrupting my work out…good thing it was leg day anyway-'' He smacked your ass, the echo carrying the curious eyes to you in judgment as you were careless to their gazes as you were riding too much of a high to give a second thought. Instead, your thoughts focused on just what he had in store for you once you made it home…

Taglist: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets

[m3dardas]

HELLO, NEIGHBOR.

modern!violet x fem!reader

next part: part two

warnings: language, bestie!caitlyn, awkwardness, grumpy!violet, enemies to lovers?

blurb: you could thank your friendly realtor for finding the best apartment in the city. you could also thank her for your foul tasting encounter with your neighbor. thanks cait.

author’s note: i’m in desperate need for vi like rn. y’all know a love a cute mini-series. this ain’t a one stop shop over here. i just don’t know how many at this given moment :)) i might not even be mini... it could be legit.... we’ll see.

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Moving as an adult was no fun — it was actually completely boring.

The fun part was the apartment hunting. Not so much the comparing of prices, but the imaginative part. Where you visualized yourself living your life inside of that apartment — all while you took the tour. However, you have now reached the moving in process. Unpacking all of your boxes, and actually moving into your new place.

Which, by far, was the worst part.

Cardboard boxes nearly covered the entire floor plan of the apartment. Your furniture wasn’t going to be delivered until next week — so it was just going to be you and those goddamn boxes, and a blow up mattress.

Thankfully, your friend had scheduled to help your for the next few days. Oh, and she was your realtor — Caitlyn Kiramman. Probably, one the best real-estate agents in the city.

“Let’s just crack open a bottle, and start unpacking — make this more enjoyable.”

“Crack open a bottle of what?”

Caitlyn grins, sporting her charming smile as she waltzes over to the kitchen in her comfortable house slippers — the ones she carries in her purse. The portables. The kitchen was damn near empty, just filled with a ton of boxes. However, when she’d arrived she came bearing gifts.

Pulling out two deep olive green bottles from her purse, she jumped on her toes excitedly. Two bottles of merlot. “Crack open these babies. One for you, one for me.”

You hum, trotting towards her. “What exactly did you mean by... Enjoyable? Wine drunk on a Tuesday, when I should be unpacking my things?” You raised your eyebrows, digging into a box. Sounds of crumbling echoed off the walls as you tossed out the protective paper. Reaching inside, you plucked two crispy clean wine glasses.

The blue-haute designed, taking the portable cork remover from her bag. She popped out both the corks, starting to pour your glass. “I’m just trying to help you relieve some stress, y/n. Moving in is rough — I would know.” She spoke, while pouring the bitter substance into the bowls.

Taking your moderately filled glass, you held it properly by the stem. “Why don’t we just drink a bit, slowly unpack — just relish in sealing the deal on this amazing flat!”

She always did have a celebratory mind — her profession was right up her league. Apprehensive, you take a few seconds to loosen your shoulders. Clinking the bowl of your glass, you completely give in. “Let’s do this your way.” You sip the substance, allowing it’s bittersweet flavor to dance along your tongue. The aged grape juice quenched your thirst, while sending slight buzz to your brain.

And that’s what the rest of the night was going to look like. Buzzing grape juice slipping down your throat. Glass after glass. Not so much unpacking, though. Because once music was added to the pair of you, all the priorities were out the window. You swung each other around, not forgetting to take sips of the deep cherry wine.

Next thing you know, both bottles were empty and the two of you were laying in starfish position on the wooden floor. Old Katy Perry songs blasting through Caitlyn’s portable speaker. I kissed a girl — to be exact. Which was really on brand for the two you, you guys just happened to enjoy it way more than Katy.

“How the hell am I gonna put all these things awayyyy?” You drawled, whining with a pouty face. The wine didn’t help your want for a quick fix. If you had the power to snap your fingers and all of your belongings be put in place — you’d snap in a hurry. “The merlot wasn’t a good idea, Caitlyn.”

Her mouth fell open, swiveling her head towards you. Her blue strands spread along the floor. “My bad for caring about my best friends livelihood.”

“Livelihood? I’m just exhausted, Cait, that’s normal.”

“Not to mention the fact that you’ve been oh, so, lonely for the past year and a half.”

You sit up abruptly, deepening your eyebrows. “There’s nothing wrong with being lonely.” Shrugging defensively, you stand up, crossing your arms over your chest. Caitlyn mirrored you, standing up. Katy Perry was still playing in the background, causing the two of you to yell over her lyrics. “There’s nothing wrong with being alone, but there is something wrong with being lonely.”

There’s something wrong?

Sure, you’ve been alone for... Awhile. Alone as in, without a significant other, or even trying to look for one. You’ve had hookup’s in the past, but it’s been a very dry season lately. With working yourself to the bone, just to be comfortable enough for this apartment — busyness has conquered you. There was no chance for free time to... Not be lonely.

“Oh, so... You’re not lonely?” You deepen your eyes, delivering an accusatory glare.

She straightened her posture, crossing her arms over her chest. “No... I’m freely dating. And I suggest you do the same — it’s fun.”

“Or more stressful.”

“Trust me, y/n, it’s not. As long as you go at it the right way.” She grinned, exposing her little gapped tooth. Caitlyn approached you, placing her hands on your shoulders. “You’re not worth all this stagnancy. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever encountered — inside and out. And it would be selfish of me to keep that all to myself.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, accepting her complimenting words. The blue-haired was just coming from a concerned place. She’s been noticing how hard you’ve been working, yet giving barely any time for play. No pain, no gain — right? “Thanks, Cait.” You looked up at her tall figure, as she pulled your into a tight hug. Her long arms wrapping around yours shoulders, firmly. Laying her head atop of yours, placing a short kiss on your forehead.

She hummed against your hair. “I love you, y/n, alright? I just want the best for you.”

“I love you, too — and, I know, I know.” You snicker, linking your wrists together along her defined spine. “It’s just... Nobody likes to be called lonely, and that it’s wrong. Even if it is.” You pouted, scrunching up your eyebrows to maintain that firm demeanor.

She pulled away, keeping her hands on the shoulders. “Yes, I know... The truth hurts.” Caitlyn shrugged, a playful grin pulling onto her lips. Squinting your eyes, the corner of your lips curling in preparation to make a petty comment. A knock at your door sounds above the music. It was tired, as if the knocking had been already going on — even though, this was the first you’ve heard of it.

“Hm. Who could that be?” You muttered, mostly to yourself. But, of course, Caitlyn heard. She grinned, raising her eyebrows. Gesticulating for you to run and answer the door promptly. This was your very first knock on your recently purchase apartment.

You scurry to the door, after hearing the knock once more. “Coming! Gimmie one second!” You pushed through the big boxes — some that were open, some that were still taped shut. The blue-haired lowered her speak immediately.

Finally, getting to the door, with a anxious breath leaving your lips. You released the chain lock, then flicking the deadbolt to the left to pull it open. As if it was all in slow motion, the door had opened revealing a persons back.

They had short magenta hair, nearly red — you weren’t sure. Sporting a fitted wifebeater that was slightly see through — so you could see the faint details of the dark ink etched in their fair skin, alongside the dusted freckles on the backs of their shoulders — not mention the obvious strength in them. They also wore a pair of grey sweatpants, leading to a light pink pair of bunny slippers.

Too busy sizing the stranger up, they’d pivoted catching you eyeballing their muscular frame. With raised eyebrows and bits of confusion in your eyes, beside the obvious attraction. The stranger deepened their dark eyebrows, piercing their powdery blue eyes at you — no. Through you. “Runeterra to new neighbor...” They waved their hand in front of your face, cutting you out of your state of awe.

Their voice was slightly raspy and even — practically music to your ears. They happened to be a few inches taller than you, so their head tilted slightly downward — enforcing their natural intimidation.

Popping back into the real world, you immediately apologize. “Oh, yeah... Hi, sorry.” You nervously giggled, leaning onto your unstable door. Connecting your hip to the the thin edge, you rocked with the door. Until it metaphorically shoved you off, causing your trip on your own feet. You sniffed, pushing the stray pieces of hair from your face — if there was any — clearing your throat.

Raising their eyebrows, they pushed a faux grin on to their lips. “Hi.” Ugh, it was so forced. “You’re music is too loud. Turn it down — the whole apartment complex doesn’t have to know that your gay.”

You couldn’t help but drop your jaw, furrowing you’re eyebrows. Blinking at the stranger slowly, trying to gauge the situation. “Unless you want everybody to know — then, props to ‘ya.”

“Or... I just like Katy Perry.” You denied, because... You’re a denier. Of course, you’re gay and are fully attracted to women — you also happened to like Katy Perry. Specifically, I kissed A Girl. And that’s no coincidence at all.

“‘California Girls’ and ‘I kissed A Girl’ playing back to back... Hm. Seems pretty gay to me.”

“Do you just come knocking on random people’s doors questioning their sexuality? That’s not very friendly.”

They chuckled to themselves, running a hand through their thick magenta strands. “Why would I want to be friendly when the same songs have been playing on repeat for the past four hours.” Her voice began getting sterner and sterner. “And, this might come as a shocker to you, but people need sleep. People have important things to do, and I happen to be one of those people.”

“So, I would prefer that you cut the slumber party shit, and start again tomorrow — when everyone is awake.”

Your face was stuck in a confused and appalled expression. How could someone be so bold and apathetic to someone who just moved in. What happened to common courtesy? Even if the music was too loud — you just moved in. A simple complaint would’ve been appreciated.

Feeling a presence over your shoulder, you peer over to the blue-haired stallion positioning against your doorframe. “No need to be so snappy, Violet. That’s no way to treat your new neighbor.”

“Oh, Caitlyn, of course you’d be behind this.”

“Whatever that means.” She retorted, rolling her royal eyes. “y/n, Violet — Violet, y/n.” The blue-haired quickly introduced, glancing between the two of you. “She’s a lot nicer when she’s not sleep deprived.” Caitlyn looked to you, trying assure you with her soft blue irises. You were far past intimidation — you were just annoyed at her short-circuited annoyance.

Violet rolled her eyes, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her sweats. The muscles in her eyes slightly flexing at the stretch and pull. “Yeah, I’ve just got a big day tomorrow — so, music off... Please.” Her steel eyes glanced between the two of you, before beginning her short journey to the apartment beside yours. “If I hear anything short of cherry chapstick... I’m gonna give Caitlyn a bad review.”

She gasped, poking her head through the door. “You wouldn’t!”

“I would.” Violet squints her eyes, a slight smirk spreading her scarred lips. Then, her cool eyes flickered to you. Who was barely standing in the hallway, with your arms crossed under your chest. “Nice meeting you, new neighbor.” Sending you another fake smile.

Then, she slipped into her apartment, slamming the door shut behind her. Hearing the lock and chain of her front door.

Your eyes trail back up to your friend, who had her lips tucked between her teeth. Pivoting in her slippers, to avoid your piercing eye contact. “Having a grumpy neighbor wasn’t in the advertisement, Cait.” You shut the door, locking all the necessary locks.

“My job is to embellish, y/n. What type of embellishing would I be doing if I admitted to grumpy neighbors — that’s just for you to find out, love.” Caitlyn fanned her hand, threatening to burst into a boisterous laugh. “And, she’s not even that grumpy. It’s just late.” She paused, leaning on the counter of your kitchen. “Also... She’s kind of fit... Dontcha’ think?”

Now, that was something you could mutually agree on. She was absolutely stunning, good lord.

Wait.

You squint your eyes, picking apart her hiding smile. The constant pushing of her hair behind her ears — Caitlyn is up to something. “Dontcha’ think — what are you up to?” You mock, stalking quickly to the kitchen, standing across from her on the other side for he counter.

Caitlyn shrugs, blinking plainly. “Me? Up to something? Never!” She pulls out a few snacks from her bag, placing them on the counter. “Want to watch The L Word on my laptop and audio record our commentary?”

Her quick change of the subject was too much of a good one to pass up — this conversation will be coming back around. Caitlyn Kiramman wasn’t as slick as she thought that she was.

But, how could you resist Shane McCutcheon?

“Absolutely. Anything to distract me from these awful boxes.”

[thefairyletters]

I saw you rb a SaiSaku post and was curious if you had any fanfic recs for this rarepair?!

Do I have?!!!!! I am currently binging this ship so you couldn't have asked this at better time.

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This pair is not a crack ship! Crack would mean they have not shared more than two words with each other. But SaiSaku interactions always bordered on romance and best friends who don't act like it. Not only Sakura was the first person to acknowledge Sai had human side to him and bonded with him over his painting, Sai was also the only person outside Sasuke (in part 1) to be able tell her fake smiles and he always understood her feelings better than other characters. Had Sakura ever only cared for good looks (something she don't) then with Sai she'd get that and so much more.

I have always considered SaiSaku as the next best thing after NaruSaku. They had too much potential as a couple. I am not bitter that InoSai became a thing but looking at them I only feel that "Ino didn't get Sasuke so she get his look-alike." Besides, Sai gave people nicknames that are opposites to what actually feels about them – Naruto as Dickless, Sakura as Hag/Ugly and Ino as Beautiful – which makes it worse. Both Ino and Sai deserve better than this. If Kishi has shown them together more often or had interactions between them similar to SaiSaku then I can understand why Ino is his light. I guess it is also SP's fault for showing them in different light. For all SP hates Sakura, they enjoy messing up with her fans by feeding them false hope.

Whenever I want to read something hilarious but deep, SaiSaku is my to-go couple. Usually angsty, or full bout of insults and punches. There's no in between with them.

. SaiSaku .

This list contains my favorite SaiSaku collection. I am not sure if you like SaiSaku only as romance ship but this list also contain stories that expands on SaiSaku friendship, something I absolutely adore.

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Could Roses Bloom? : RiseoftheBlossom || M || AO3 || Shippuden AU || GaaSaku, SaiSaku || Angst, Romance || Ongoing

Sai glanced downwards at his body, the sudden override of his thoughts causing his mind to blank. What did that mean? Had he been straying too close to a piece of information Danzo didn't want him to have or share? Or was it his mind's natural response to shutting down any form of emotion, even if it was just the slightest of inclination towards feeling something?

Go for it if you like: enemies-to-friends-to-lovers troupe, SaiSaku friendship, confused-over-his-feelings!Sai, slow burn, GaaSaku, boys who are bad at feelings, Sakura who is unlucky with romance, angst with fluff

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hello, bright eyes (been waiting on you) : mouseymightymarvellous || T || AO3 || Shippuden AU || SaiSaku || Angst, Romance || One Shot

“look underneath the underneath,” except no one has ever really bothered to look at sakura and see her. and then there is a boy (isn’t there always). maybe they’re both just ghosts, making each other real.

Go for it if you like: enemies-to-friends-to-lovers troupe, confused-over-her-feelings!Sakura, boys who are bad at feelings, Sakura who is unlucky with romance, Sai and Sakura who don't feel like they belong, angst with fluff, sad!Sai

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Oh God That’s Heaven : blueberrysconesandfolkmusic || T || AO3 || Shippuden AU || SaiSaku || Angst, Romance || One Shot

Sakura finds Sai sick, alone, and in desperate need of a hand that doesn't hurt.

Go for it if you like: boys who are bad at feelings, bleeding-heart!Sakura, sad-and-lonely!Sai, Sai and Sakura who are secretly best friends, Sai with PTSD, protective!team7

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for everything blue and bright : sinemoras09 || M || AO3 || Shippuden AU || SaiSaku, SasuSaku || Angst || One Shot

The five stages of human arousal.

Go for it if you like: lonely!Sai, obsessed!Sakura, One-sided love, Unrequited-love-no-matter-how-you-look-at-it!SaiSaku, no-good-very-bad!Ending, pining!Sai, bittersweet lemon

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A mess of me : Dovey || M || AO3 || Pre-Shippuden AU || SaiSaku || Yandere Romance || Complete

In which Sai is a good ANBU agent with an unusual hobby, and Sakura grows up with a #1 fan rooting for her....even if she doesn't know it. Or: Sai starts stalking Sakura when they're both young to satisfy his curiousity about 'normalcy', gets attached, and eventually gets very frustrated that nobody else seems to notice her potential as a shinobi and takes matters into his own hands- and delights in being Sakura's prime source of validation because of it.

Go for it if you like: obsessed!Sai, manipulation, stalker!Sai, mentor!Sai, SaiSaku friendship, distraught!Kakashi, fluff, baby-Sai-stalking-baby-Sakura, abusive haruno household

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There is sunshine on his forehead : amako || T || AO3 || Soulmate AU || SaiSaku but it's complicated || Angst, Hurt/Comfort || One Shot

Sakura is only three when she promises herself that Sasuke will die by her hand, whoever he is.

Go for it if you like: dysfunctional Team 7, Soulmate AU, Unrequited love feels, angst heavy, Sai and Sakura only want to belong, NaruSasu, NaruSaku but not really, betrayal heavy, no fluff only pain, SaiSaku, Team 7 taking Sakura for granted, Sakura is so done

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In theory : nimblnymph || T || FFN || Shippuden || SaiSaku || Romance, Humor || One Shot

For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. Sai was about to learn that this theory applied to more than just physics. And that putting theory into practice sometimes gave unexpected results.

Go for it if you like: oblivious!Sai, teacher!Sakura, student!Sai, Sai getting educated, Sakura educating Sai, Kisses, Sai being Sai, Sakura with patience of god

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Loathing : i AM the Random Idiot || T || FFN || Shippuden || SaiSaku || Romance, Angst || One Shot

Define "hatred."

Go for it if you like: oblivious!Sai, hurt!Sai, Angst, Onions, SakuSai bonding over mutual hate, love is overrated anyway

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Bunk Mates : ice bitten || T || FFN || Shippuden || Team 7 || Humor, Friendship || One Shot

In which Sasuke and Naruto find out Sakura has been sleeping over at Sai's. Short stories surrounding Sakura, Sai, and the invasive people of Konoha.

Go for it if you like: sassy!Sai, protective!Team7, SaiSaku friendship, roommates, Sai being Sai, Perfect characterisation, Canon feels

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Paint me with Colour : PeregrineFlight || T || FFN || post-Shippuden || SaiSaku|| Humor, Friendship || Incomplete

Sai and Sakura must travel to the Land of Lightning to retrieve something for the Daimyo, they have to travel as a married couple. Much to Naruto's amusement.

Go for it if you like: lonely!Sai, SaiSaku friendship, roommates, Sai being Sai, pretend marriage, SaiSaku bonding over mission, fluffy angst, adorable!Sai

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Forget Me Not : Joy-girl || T || FFN || post-Shippuden || Team 7 || Angst, Friendship || Complete

Sometimes it's easy to forget how important someone is when the person is always in the background – but Sakura's boys still remember. Glimpses of her importance from each member of her team.

Go for it if you like: fluffy angst, Sakura's place in team 7, underappreciated Sakura, Team7 family, Family feels, sad!Sakura, protective!Team7 males, Sakura appreciation, SaiSaku bond, Team7Saku feels, avenger!Teammates

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Add Me Colour : Cella N || T || FFN || post-Shippuden || SaiSaku || Drama, Romance || Complete

"All my life is white. Paint me. Add me colour."

Go for it if you like: lonely!Sakura, Sai being Sai, confused!Sakura, angst, poetic translation, colors

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Euphemisms : Nymbis || T || FFN || Shippuden || SaiSaku || Humor, Romance || Complete(?)

Drabbles about Sai, Sakura, and their strange attempts at bonding.

Go for it if you like: Sai being Sai, Sakura being Sakura, Hilarious friendships, SaiSaku friendship, loveggression, love-hate relationship, Insults, Sai's brand of humor, fluff with punches, Raunchy stuff

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Ricochet : Strix 4 || T || FFN || Shippuden AU || Team 7 || Family, Drama || Complete(?)

Sometimes it's easy to see the familiar in the faces around you. Sometimes it sucks to figure out why.

Go for it if you like: fluffy angst, Sakura's place in team 7, Team7 as family, Family feels, wise!Sakura, SaiSaku bond, Sai's place in team 7

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Pick up lines : Demoneyes 14 || T || FFN || Shippuden || SaiSaku || Humor || One Shot

Ero sennin's pick up lines! Guaranteed to get the girl or your money back! Well... it would be more guaranteed if it hadn't fallen on his face in the library, but heck, Sai will try anything once! Maybe it will save him a beating from Sakura...

Go for it if you like: Sai being Sai, Sakura being Sakura, SaiSaku friendship, loveggression, love-hate relationship, Insults, Sai's brand of humor, fluff with punches

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Special mentions...

Study of the Heart : teresa

In an effort to become a better friend, Sai undertakes a study of love, not really understanding how difficult it could be, and how surprising.

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The Blood of a Cherry Blossom : Slytherin Kunoichi

Originally, for Halloween, Sai hadn't decided what to go as, but once he glimpsed at the bleeding flesh on Sakura's neck, he suddenly had the urge to be a vampire…

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Old Dogs, New Tricks : yuugiri

After an unprecedented turn of events, the Fifth Hokage has officially assigned Sakura Haruno the responsibility to make Sai recover what he had lost; his emotions. With a time limit of a month, will Sakura succeed in this mission?

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Once More, With Feeling : Cynchick

Sakura didn't know what she was thinking when she showed up on his doorstep. 

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Ink Me : Krickitat

Exploring the art of bod-modification Sakura takes a step into the unknown world of the exquisite pain of art.

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The Uchiha Secret : Slytherin Kunoichi

Sasuke froze as he stared at Sai's eyes, which were identical to his Uchiha Sharingan eyes now: red with anger and black with hatred...One family secret could threaten and shake three lives forever. Bonds will be broken.

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My babies don't get enough love in the world.

[itspileofgoodthings]

Introspective ask #3?

3. What's something that's making you sad but in a bittersweet not wholly unpleasant way?

The fact that my relationship with tumblr has changed. I still use it and I still want to use it! But the way that I use it has changed permanently and definitively. And it's a struggle because letting things go is so hard for me, even when I know I should and need to. It's always this bitter, dramatic internal fight so sometimes I get really angry that it has changed and I try to act like it hasn't and I try to use it like I used to use it. I try to interact in the way I used to and it doesn't work. Because I've grown beyond my younger self and the way that I used it and it's like trying on an old sweater that you used to love but it doesn't fit right and you really really miss it but it doesn't fit so trying to wear it is pointless.

In many ways what I loved and needed about tumblr has transferred to real life and I'm so glad about that. But I sometimes still feel a profound sense of loss and loneliness, and mostly a childish restlessness where I don't know what to do or how to approach this. And I just feel ---- I feel foolish so much of the time? I feel a lot of grief. It reminds me, on a larger scale, of my breakup with the reylo fandom. I still love reylo more than ever and I still love many mutuals and friends I found because of reylo but I don't interact in the same way (in part because nobody does because that space doesn't exist anymore) and I went through this period of realizing that my voice wasn't needed or wanted the way that I thought it was and that really, I'd just been riding a kind of wave, not actually making meaningful connections or changing lives. And I feel that now. I love (so deeply!) the people that I found here. But I can't be a Voice anymore or a "brand" --because it doesn't feel authentic and because I'm not in the space I was when I was first riding the wave.

The things that really matter to me are smaller and more specific and that is better. But the part of me that loved the Bigness of my biggest tumblr days is still so jealous and petty and childish and I'm just -----trying to ride this one out and accept it humbly until this period of mourning passes. *I know I will move on to other things but the transition hasn't quite been made in my own soul and it's taking a while and the in-between is both hard and bittersweet. So yeah.

*I will probably always use tumblr but differently, I suspect.

[inevitably-johnlocked]

do you have any fics of john flirting with sherlock over text? maybe sherlock being utterly clueless? thank you & and much luv ❤️

Hi Nonny!!!

Ahhhhhhhhhh AGES ago, I did an Epistolary / Texting / Letters fic rec list, back before I had A System™, so it’s a bit messy but it is there :) I don’t have a lot of new ones to add to it, BUT I decided I would pull all the Texting fics from that list since I now have neater organization with tags and Chapters, and then just add my NEW fics onto that one, how about that? Would that be okay? It wouldn’t be specifically just flirting, but I think that the list is long overdue anyway!! Hope you like something on this one, and I’ll TRY to tag the flirting fics WITH flirting so that you can pick them out :) 

And as always, add your own fics, Lovelies!! <3

TEXTING AND SEXTING (JULY 2020)

See also:

Epistolary / Texting / Letters (My List, 2017)

First Meeting Via Internet / Phone / Letters (Mine)

Phone Sex & Texting (Alexx’s List)

Wrong Number Texting (Alexx’s List)

They Met Online or Texting (Alexx’s List)

Message Not Sent by Queerasil (K, 762 w., 1 Ch. || Angst, One-Sided Texting, Pining Sherlock) - Sherlock texts John after the fall and during the hiatus. The messages are sent, but never received. Sequel to WORDLOCKED, TSTM, and Wait, How Do You Play This Game Again?

Texts and Tea by JillianWatson1058 (K, 959 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Texting, Humour, Fluff, POV John, Cranky John) – A John who is woken up at 2:30 in the morning is not a happy John. Sherlock, frankly, doesn’t care. He just wants his tea.

Untouchable by greengrapegaze (T, 1,368 w., 1 Ch. || Pre-S3, UST/URT, Oblivious John, Lonely Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Emotional Sherlock, POV Sherlock, Pining Sherlock) – “He never would. Petty, childish, immature-bitter. Jealous. She had all that he wanted. All he could never have.” Part 1 of Steps to a Bittersweet Symphony

Yorkshire Gold by Tammany Tiger (K, 1,467 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Angst, Holmes Brothers, Open Ending, Grief, Implied Bondlock) – Mycroft may not mourn Sherlock's death-but even if he knows his brother lives, he's not without his own grief. It ain't easy being The British Government. But at least he's got good help. Set between the Fall and the Return.

Text Me When It's Over by immaculately-flawed  (K+, 1,937 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Humour, Post-TRF, Texting, Sort-Of Pining Sherlock) – After the fall Sherlock starts writing texts to John. Of course, he never sends them... Until he does by accident. Post Reichenbach fic but not angsty.

Denial Isn’t Just a River in Egypt by satanatemycat (T, 2,107 w., 1 Ch. || Humour, Friendship, Texting, Bored/Cranky Sherlock) – In which John makes a bet with a co-worker. If he wins, she shuts up about him and Sherlock being a couple. If he loses… well, that doesn’t matter, because he won’t lose. Because he and Sherlock ARE NOT a couple. Right?

The Art Of Communication by StillWaters1 (T, 2,679 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, H/C) – Lestrade was used to getting odd, non sequitur texts from Sherlock. But when "John went out for milk" was followed by a terse "two hours ago," Lestrade immediately understood three things: John was missing, Sherlock was quietly panicking, and this could all end very, very badly.

Unquantifiable by 221b_hound (M, 2,799 w. 1 Ch. || Est. Rel., Grumpy John, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Pet Names, Texting, Sweet Sherlock, Princess Bride References) – John remains a terrible and foul-tempered patient, but he does try to make up for it with pet names and text message silliness. In the meantime, Sally Donovan visits Baker Street for a hint about the Milverton case, and has to deal with a Sherlock Holmes who can't find words big enough to thank her for saving John's life at the warehouse. For afters, there's a viewing of The Princess Bride. Part 33 of the Unkissed series

The Sweetest Taste In The World by crossroads (G, 3,121 w., 1 Ch. || First Kiss, Jealous Sherlock, Fluff, Pining, Friends to Lovers) – The sweetest taste in the world is rarely ever the easiest to come by.

Entanglement by orphan_account (G, 3,218 w., 1 Ch. || Confessions, Physics, Metaphors, Texting, Pining, Christmas, Mind Palace, Sick Fic, Fluff, Humour, Praise Kink) - On Christmas Eve, snow covers London, John visits Harry, and Sherlock and Mrs. Hudson untangle some knots.

Come home. by hudders-and-hiddles (huddersandhiddles) (E, 3,763 w., 1 Ch. || Texting / Sexting, Lonely Sherlock, Nude Photos, Pining, Fluff & Smut) – When John leaves for a medical conference, Sherlock tries to entice him back home.

Happy anniversary by Salambo06 (E, 3,772 w., 1 Ch. || Est. Rel., Vulnerable Sherlock, Wedding Anniversary, Anal, Texting, Lingerie) – John inhaled deeply, feeling his cock pulse under the silk gown, and he let his eyes travel on the lean body in front of him. Sherlock was kneeling on the bed, their bed, and the picture had been taken so John could perfectly see his bare chest and pelvis. But what mattered most, what made John harden rather quickly, was the pair of panties Sherlock was wearing in the picture. Black, string over each hip and laces that outlined Sherlock’s erect cock barely hidden under the soft underwear.

Lingerie by Sexxica (E, 4,135 w., 1 Ch. || Valentine’s Day, Lingerie / Women’s Underwear, Mildly Public Masturbation, Picture Texting / Sexting, Bottomlock, Body Worship, Anal Sex / Fingering, Rimming, Orgasm Delay / Denial, Est. Rel.) – It's Valentines Day and Sherlock is taking John to Angelo's for dinner. Sherlock also happens to be wearing a garter belt, stockings and a rather small pair of women's underwear under his clothes. There's no dessert at Angelo's because John needs to get Sherlock home just as quickly as he can before they both lose their minds entirely.

If He Knows by shamelessmash (M, 4,513 w., 1 Ch. || TSo3 Fic, Pining Sherlock, Bed Sharing, Angst, First Person Sherlock POV, Texting, Internal Monologue, Blanket Forts) – I imagine mornings: John handing me a cup of tea, hair sticking out at odd angles. How he would bend down to kiss me, smiling fondly as he pulls away. The way his skin crinkles at the corner of his eyes, the way his skin looks in the morning light. The soft sigh as he sits in his chair with the morning paper, the way his toes curl in the carpet, the way he rolls his shoulders before sinking deeper into his seat. I watch him, how he is when he is content, as it should be. As he deserves. Happy. With me.

Tease You Till You Come by phoenix089 (E, 6,090 w., 1 Ch. || First Time, Clueless Sherlock, Sexting/Texting) – Initially, Sherlock was rather put out by John's lack of presence on the case. But then he starts to receive pictures, several of them, of an unexpected nature. The case is forgotten rather quickly after that.

What Did I Do Wrong? by Starlight05 (T, 7,880 w., 5 Ch. || Hurt Comfort, Angst, John Whump, Hospitalization, Worried Sherlock, Emotional Turmoil, Nightmares, Sherlock Being Dumb) - After John almost dies on a case, Sherlock disappears. So John is left to figure out what he can do to get his best friend back. Meanwhile Sherlock, guilt-ridden and willingly alone, is doing everything he can to stay away.

Bread and Wine and Curry Once a Week by cwb (E, 8,737 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Stroppy Sherlock, Love Letters, POV John) – Sherlock asks John for relationship advice. Little does he know that it’s him that Sherlock is in love with.

A Building of Bridges by Unique (K, 12,325 w., 3 Ch. || Drama, Alternate First Meeting, John’s PTSD / Flashbacks, Mute John, Dialogue-Heavy, Caring Sherlock, Friendship) – No one would ever send Sherlock in to diffuse a stand-off; but on one unlikely day, that's exactly what happened. "Congratulations, Lestrade," he called out sarcastically. "You're traumatizing a war veteran."

A Brand of Gold by aquabelacqua (M, 12,757 w., 1 Ch. || Mutual Pining, POV John, Phone Sex, Texting, Masturbation, Long Distance, Drunk Texting) – What am I doing? he wondered. The answer came back at once: Flirting. He let the vital, missing piece snap into place as surely and as cleanly as if it had always been there. He was flirting with Sherlock Holmes.

Traitor's Gate by roane (E, 17,714 w., 6 Ch. || Post-TRF, Case Fic, Mystery, Bets and Wagers, Undercover for a Case, BAMF John, Scientist Sherlock, Teasing, Established Relationship, Military Base, Sexting/Texting, Military/Uniform Kink, Frottage, Dirty Sex, Anal, Bottomlock) – John and Sherlock go undercover at a top secret government lab to find out who is selling research. John is back in uniform and Sherlock is back in a laboratory, but they have to pose as strangers. Sherlock thinks he'll have an easy time of it, but John has his doubts. It's up to them to find out who is responsible for putting a dangerous weapon in the wrong hands, and try to keep their hands off each other at the same time.

The Real Meaning of Idioms by feverishsea (T, 21,691 w., 13 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Texting, Humour, Post-TRF, Awkward Romance, Idiots in Love) - After two weeks away, John finally texts Sherlock. He doesn’t expect Sherlock to respond. He doesn’t expect Sherlock to keep texting him. And he really doesn’t expect things to spiral out of control so rapidly.

A Study In Auto-Signatures, Sniper Dolphins, and Sex Holidays by cwb (E, 32,689 w., 8 Ch. || Case Fic, Post S3, Evil Mary, Dev. Rel., Beach Holidays, Confused Sherlock, Friends to Lovers, Honeymoon, Epistolary, Bottomlock, First Kiss / Time, Fluff, Secret Agents, BAMF!John) – John and Mary go on their sex holiday, and Sherlock is grumpy and pining about it. Part 1 of HOT DOLPHIN SEX

A Week is Just Seven Days Isn't It? by scifigrl47 (T, 39,906 w., 4 Ch. || Humour, Friendship/Bromance, Stroppy/Bored Sherlock, Undercover/Army John, Texting, Pining-ish Sherlock, John Whump) – When John heads overseas for a week, Sherlock's forced to fend for himself. It goes about as well as anyone could have anticipated. Which is to say, very, very poorly. Don't worry, things'll be fine in just seven days.

Definitions by siennna (T, 101,528 w., 12 of ? Ch. || Dev. Rel., Pining, Fluff and Romance, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Fluff, Cuddles) – Sherlock’s journey in defining his flat mate and stumbling through the muddled world of emotion. {{This feels complete; the chapter count is listed as ? but I feel like it is done}}

[scoundrels-in-love]

I want to be with you to where the sea sleeps (However the waves, I’ll hold on)

Jaime discovers that the difference between loving Brienne quietly and loving her with a future unfolding ahead of them is separated by a difference the width of the Straits of Tarth. Now, with their return to Winterfell imminent, he has to find the words that will bridge it.

Also on AO3. Part of the Tomorrow (with you) series.

Jaime discovered that the difference between loving Brienne quietly and loving her with a future unfolding ahead of them was separated by a difference the width of the Straits of Tarth. Not wide enough to be uncrossable, but very disorientating when one suddenly found themselves in the middle of the Shipbreaker bay with little but oars and sense of direction to get them the rest of the way.

It was not that he hadn't thought of pressing sweet, lingering kisses to her lips, her cheeks, her hands at every opportune moment. Of loving her with open sincerity that felt as foreign as his own right hand of flesh and blood would have felt now, but just as welcome.  Of wedding her and watching the eventual sunset of his life glow brighter for the way the sea of her reflected the light.

He had, so much that the want and the dreams had all blurred together and he could not tell which had come first any longer. But he had never thought much of how to proceed from one scene to another, other than carried by the whim of his imagining mind.

So now that Jaime had to face these questions, he felt rather at a loss.

A sennight had passed since the Festival of Mother, a night when bonfires and music, and wine (but no regret) had swept Brienne toward him and him into her arms.

They had not spoken of the whats and hows, a discomforting echo of secrecy prickling at Jaime, but she did not protest when he'd hold her hand and entwine their fingers or greet her with a kiss in the morning. So if she had intended to keep it secret, she had put in the least amount of effort he had ever seen her using.

Even Selwyn Tarth, who had welcomed him simply and fairly, before warming to his presence gradually and then all at once, had taken notice and spoken to him - well before the night bonfires and wine had lit courage or desire in Brienne's heart to kiss him.

"The day you arrived and she showed you around Evenfall Hall, I thought - I know my daughter still, as grown as she may be now, but I did not know she could smile like that. Or looked at the way you do," her father had said and Jaime had bristled on Brienne's behalf, half swallowing a sharp comment because she loved her father, and equally wanting to say it all the more exactly because of that.

"Consider me chastised," the older man had chuckled, taking notice of the shift in his expression, before growing somber and clasping a large hand on Jaime's shoulder. There were few people who could make Jaime feel small but not insignificant (like his own father had made a habit of), but it seemed to be a shared Tarth trait.

"I have made my share of grave mistakes, and many of them regarding her, and though Kingslayer would not have been my first choice of her husband then… a man that makes her happy, I will gladly take for my godson now, Ser Jaime." Selwyn had used the title before, but it was deliberate now in a way that pressed in Jaime's ribcage with an odd sort of warmth. Back then, there had been a tinge of bitterness, too, for for all of the encouraging words, Brienne's heart had seemed as far as the moon it outshone.

But now?

Now the chance to call her wife felt as close as the brisk, seasalt whispering breeze he could feel upon his face. He had come to the lighthouse to take in the sight as well as to seek some answers, as if he could scry them upon the horizon.

It was not that he doubted his feelings, or even Brienne's. He had confessed to loving her that very first night, but much like the gods, she hadn't said anything in return. Not with her words, though her kisses and hands that held him together and afloat at once sang sweetly. But there had been clouds of disbelief in her eyes, rising with the sun next morning, and they remained there still.

He wasn't good with his words, not when they weren't said in retaliation to a strike that hadn't always come, or passionate pleas - but even those had fallen on deaf ears. Whenever he thought of how to ask, it came out too mild or overwhelming in a way Brienne might not even believe.

But he could convince her, if not with words then with time poured into courting her, as a lady and knight both. He just needed to make sure she knew it was what he intended. And that her unspoken love wasn’t just for simplicity their unconventional union would offer - a man that’d respect her and trust her and one she could do the same for in return, a sizzle of friendship and echoes of the golden man he had once been. He knew it was not, yet thoughts and knowledge were not always the same.

In similar vein, part of him loathed to think of the long trip to Winterfell, in separate rooms and separate lives still, of touching no more than her hand in the North or stealing kisses like he was sixteen and not a man with decades of bittersweet secrecy beneath his skin. That part of him said: ask her, clumsily if you must, but ask her and she may be stunned enough, caught up in Tarth's golden sun enough, to say yes. Marry her, before she changes her mind or comes to her senses, and sees you for the one handed wreck that carries too many graves with him.

But marriage held no man or woman in the feelings it was borne of, neither love nor hatred though the latter often proved to be more enduring. He had seen far too many women trapped in marriages and he had failed to protect them all, from Rhaella and Elia, to his own once-sweet sister, to ever ask Brienne to bind herself to him without the certainty of lifetime in her heart.

And it always came down to words, but how does one say 'you have born an ocean in me and I wish to grow old by its' side, treasuring you every day'?

The sea below threw itself against the cliffs as if in sympathy or perhaps a fortune.

Midday approached and so did steps on the lighthouse's stairs. He thought it might be the keeper, but soon they grew familiar and then a blonde head emerged.

Brienne came to lean against the stone edge next to him, silent but equal parts comforting and unsettling in her presence, the way he had to divide his attention between imagining the taste of seaspray on her lips and remembering that he was allowed to discover it now, if only he solved his conundrum first.

"We should start preparing for departure in a month's time," she spoke, subdued somehow, but he couldn't read her eyes very well when they were fixed on the horizon.

And with that, the clock that had already been whispering at the back of Jaime's mind began its song in earnest.

"As you wish, my lady," he nodded, watching her hands, pale and tender against the dark stone, curl just so, a far cry from the anger and hurt the title used to invoke. He wanted to hold them, warm and shielded from wind and seaspray upon it.

Her voice is just a touch weary: "Jaime, I am no lady, you know that. It has not changed since we last spoke of it."

Which had been sometime during their journey here, he thought, when he had insisted she took the last room remaining at an inn. As always, he had argued that since swearing himself to her, she could only be free of the title and his service (even if it was to protect her back from hurting) by dismissing him. He had fallen asleep next to her on the narrow bed that night because she had yet to yield a fight.

Jaime didn't wish her to, not even now. The title had not been a weapon for a long time, but a way for secret wishes to be spoken out loud and Brienne deserved to know that, instead of the teasing she always seemed to find in it instead.

"It is true it has not changed since then - because my meaning has been the same for years now." He again briefly lamented that he could not entwine their fingers atop the rock ledge, for her hands were too far to grasp in anything but desperate reach. (But was that not the nature of this conversation?)

She was looking at him now and he thought there was only a hint of skittishness in her eyes. If he didn't want it to fester endlessly, he had to speak now.

"Brienne, this… isn't a passing flight of fancy to me. Gods know I am incapable of such a thing. If we are to head back to Winterfell, I do not wish to go as your mere swornsword, though that alone is more than I deserve. I love you and it has not been a secret to anyone but you for a long time now."

She inhaled softly, eyes wide, and it was not the first time he said it, but every time felt new and branding still, like it was raising gently from his bones to press warm marks into his skin from beneath, and perhaps not just to him. But Jaime would brand himself a thousand times as hers and still find joy and warmth in it, he knew that as surely as that the sea would forever worship the shore.

He wanted to tell her that, to give her the wedding oaths here if she'd not have them otherwise yet, to give her that before he showed his heart with actions, too, but before he could, Brienne stepped closer and like the moon, she pulled the tide between them to her - and him with it.

"Let's get married, Jaime." Her voice was quiet, but not out of hesitation. She had thought of this, Jaime realized, and later, he'd ask for how long, but right now he marveled in its existence. It was neither demand nor plea and for that alone, he felt swept away by it, toward her, as her hands came to hold his - and the stump.

"Before we leave because I do not wish to wait for years till we return and I'd rather marry here, in my home. We have waited long enough and to spend more time pretending we have not seems wasteful." She was practical even when her heart was spoken softly, and he couldn't love her more for it. But there was flush to her face and a brightness in her eyes that told him of joy tempered by worry.

“You know, I did intend to court you properly before proposing,” he told her, buoyant and like he could float off on this cresting feeling of happiness, finding anchor only in entwining fingers with hers.

Brienne looked soothed at his admission, though it was a faint shade of how much he had wanted to marry her, wanted it still. That his want far outweighed what he could give her, now that he was titleless and more gray than golden in more than shade of his hair.

“But all things considered, I doubt I could top the courting gifts I’ve already given you, so perhaps this is for the best,”  Jaime laughed now instead.

She attempted to scoff, but her lips could not be contained in a frown and spilled into a smile almost immediately: “I don’t need them, Jaime, but if you have given me any, they escape my memory.” “That is surprising, considering you wear one around your waist most days.” She had not today, or most of the days they had spent on Tarth, having also exchanged her blue armor for a brighter blue tunic with rich embroidery and earthly toned breeches that Sansa had gifted her before their departure. There had been visible discomfort about her at the start, like she did not know how to exist without this shell anymore. But gradually, it had eased away, leaving Jaime to marvel at how well peace suited her, too.

“Surely, not back then?” Brienne asked, disbelief apparent, and he could only laugh at the way they had both lost each other and themselves in this smoke and mirror game they had created, just to protect their hearts.

“Even then, Brienne,” Jaime reassured her softly and watched her jaw go briefly slack, before she bit down on her lip, overcome. To give her a chance to think on it, he did what he always did: ran his mouth.

“And you gave me quite the favor in return, bringing back my honor.” He had meant to say it as a soft jape at the expense of himself, but it came out warm and heavy all at once, like a bundle of truth wrapped in warm furs, spilling at their feet. Because she had, had brought him the second most precious gift in the world, outshone only by her heart.

At that, she shook her head fiercely, the frown he had already predicted as soon the words left his mouth, settling on her face. “No, Jaime. I did no such thing.”

“You said it yourself - you would do it for Catelyn and for me. I never forgot it, it haunted me in some ways. Like a light that I couldn’t follow, nor ignore. I tried. At Riverrun. And the Dragonpit. But you were too bright.” Someday, he would tell her for how long she’d been both the sea and the lighthouse and even the storm to him, crashing in on his cage and beckoning to the rocky coast, welcoming even in its sharpness as it offered a chance to live again.

“If every man could be inspired into doing the right thing with a few words, the world would be a far better place than it is, Jaime. You were and are a good person, you have made bad choices and good ones, but you only claim the bad ones as your own.” Brienne spoke with conviction and he heard a bell toll in her words, but he could not think of it now when this hadn’t been meant to be about him.

(Later, when he would lay awake at night and spin her light through his fingers like a thread of sunlight, he would examine the sound and try to let the truth of it in his heart of hearts, every night a little more.)

They had spoken of this before, though never quite as plainly, and his heart swelled with bittersweet ache. The way she’d always believe in his goodness while disregarding her own importance was never changing and spoke too loudly of her believed worth. On the road, she had mentioned that Sansa had said thank you to her, for being a good person at the right place and the right time, and he had seen how the acknowledgement had lit her up, though he knew she must have downplayed it.

He wanted her to take pride in her good heart, realize it for the treasure it was to those she shared it with, instead of finding a way to reflect it back at him. "Even so, without you, I would not have remembered that there was a way to make them. That there is still honor and love left in me and for me."

Her fingers tightened around his, dug in the soft cover over his stump, but not enough to hurt him. She was capable of it, in more ways than she knew, but she always treaded around even these underwater rocks and he wanted to kiss thank yous for that into her skin every day.

"I do know you are not a lighthouse that needs a keeper, Brienne, But if you do wish someone to be by your side, to tend to your needs and guard your light when you are weary, if that can be me… it would be my true happiness and my honor," his voice grew choked at the end, because even that wasn’t enough to express what it’d mean to him. What being next to her already was.

She leaned down just so, her forehead pressing against his, and her smile was a sunrise, slow and unstoppable.

"I would have no other, Jaime."

His hand trembled as he cupped her jaw, before tiptoeing to kiss her, sweetly and deeply. He hadn't known how much he needed it, to be chosen as the only one, no buts and no ifs, to be treasured in this simplest way he had never known. It was more than any I love you Cersei had ever whispered to him, it was commitment that no matter what life threw or offered to her, her hand would always find his. He wasn't the unconventional but easy choice, he was loved and he would be chosen again and again, through battlefields they had waded through and the ones still ahead. There was no criteria he was going to be weighed against daily, no mine until this one line.

He had known that and yet, her words rebuilt castles in him that had never been finished or fallen to sieges of pain and shame and rejection years ago.

When they parted, breathless, Brienne rested her forehead against his again and there was a glimmer of tears in her eyes, like the joy in her was too much to be contained, and he thought of a room in Winterfell, a lifetime and so many ways of loving ago. Thought of all the things he could do to recreate this feeling again and again for her. For his bride. His wife.

Her hand untangled itself from his curls on his nape and cradled his face. Jaime stroked his thumb over her knuckles, soothing little movements as the uncertain seas in them turned to ponds of insecurity and fears, hidden from sight and inconsequential to their current happiness. Eventually, he thought, they would become overgrown enough to be almost completely forgotten, not aching in their depth on most days.

Then, her smile gave way to soft laughter, eyes warm and full with affection he could drown in, but knew he’d learn to swim instead: “But I did already propose, Jaime. No need to do it twice.”

“I think you will agree that it is only fair if I have my chance, too.” He gave her his most obnoxious grin in return.

And if she had any opposition to ‘my lady’  this time, it was stolen from her lips between their kisses by the wind and swept away toward the horizon.

[tk9336]

My Curatorial Internship at MSI Part 2

In a very bittersweet conclusion, I finished my internship this past Thursday. It culminated in a visit Friday, August 6th with my family and friends getting a VIP tour of the Museum of Science and Industry, Chicago. My younger brother and his Australian co-worker flew in from D.C. and we picked them up from O’Hare on the way to MSI. We met with Director Kathleen McCarthy first thing after getting and to my utter disbelief got us onboard U-505 as a thank you for all my help this summer. She then let me run the tour onboard a German U-Boat... I am still feeling beyond honored for a privilege like that. She then let me give the tour of Collections and it really brought my short time with MSI full circle. I was asked to continue working on a project regarding a “Reichkriegsflagge” flag someone emailed us that they believe is linked to U-505. So as you can imagine I am thrilled... I broke down the history we have on the flags MSI has in storage and on exhibit. I emailed no fewer than four separate institutions; the German Maritime Museum, the US Naval Academy Museum (who has U-505′s actual War flag it was flying when captured in 1944), the Smithsonian, and to Keith Gill who was the chief Curator of U-505 when it was restored and interred in it’s final resting place within the 37 million dollar McCormick Foundation Exhibit.

What will follow is Weeks 7 - 9:

Week 7: 7/19-22/2021

Monday: I was not feeling well and decided to email Voula at 8AM as I got back home from the train station. I am glad I made this decision because I had a stomach that was in knots and there was plenty of material to work on from home. I worked on the U-505 artifacts list.

Tuesday: I came into the office and had my normal weekly meeting with Voula at 10 AM. We discussed the past week and the week ahead. Fortuitously since I had finished the massive transcription I was available to help on a more pressing issue that came up. The U.S. Navy was coming to give inert certificates and certify any munitions we had that still needed them. This was great because it was an opportunity to work with the Registrar Deanna, and do registration/collections management work. I got half way through the huge U.S. Navy loan files. I will continue next week in office, as tomorrow I am not working but will be on location.

Wednesday: I am not working Wednesday, as I am taking a long time friend and his family from my organization, the 501st Legion downtown. I will hopefully get to show them what I do in Collections; my office, the staff who are in my department and a brief walk through storage. I can't wait to see their faces... they have been following the posts I have been making to share my excitement of this incredible opportunity. The visit went well, and the parents Neil and Andrea are big World's Fair fans (both Colombian Exposition and 1933 Century of Progress.) They were former patron members of MSI before COVID.

Thursday: Working from home I was tasked with making a list of the artifacts on exhibition from the transcription of the U505 exhibit. So taking out the artifacts and making it into a separate word doc that I am sure helps the team when needing quick reference to what is on the floor.

Saturday: I continued the work from the U505 artifacts list and now am porting it to a excel workbook which seems to be the preferred file extension used by Kathleen and Voula (and perhaps Collections in general). Not strenuous academic work (since I already did that) but a lot busy work plugging, copying, pasting, etc.

Week 8: 7/26-29/2021

Monday: I came into the office today and resumed my work on going through the large U.S. Navy loan folders Deanna gave me in a effort to find relevant materials on the German, and American torpedoes as well as a Soviet Cruise Guided Missile, the "STYX." I gathered all my materials and presented them to her, and she looked through and helped me reduce the gathered documents for the most relevant to inertion. I found an actual donation file for the STYX to MSI from the Navy... not everyday you find a piece of paper saying this million dollar, surface to ship missile from the Cold War. This took me to the end of the day.

Tuesday: I came into the office and had my weekly meeting with Voula. This would be our last in person meeting as she is going to Greece with her family this Friday. I made sure to really emphasize how much this opportunity meant to me and that I was going to go the extra mile to wrap up all my projects and try to be as much use to MSI as possible. I had finishing helping Deanna yesterday with the inert reference materials to help her with the U.S. Navy guys coming in next Monday.

Wednesday: I worked from home since I have no shortage of stuff to work on. Voula tasked me with writing labels for the Fire Fighting artifacts I that I made a long project of at the beginning of the internship. Since I created all that in a long, well organized word doc, I can then, like a professional curator, work from my research to create 1-2 sentence labels for each item. I will take that and then input it into a excel workbook which seems to be the preferred file extension for reference purposes.

Thursday: We had another MSI Zoom round-table, and this time we how to brand, and what branding means professionally speaking, and to Museums like MSI specifically. Thankfully being Zoom was able to attend while working from home, which is an absolute godsend (in regards to not having to commute to Chicago, from Wauconda, IL... not that I don't like being at MSI- the commute is long.) I continued buttoning up and polishing all that I worked on so far. This isn't the normal college assignment where I don't re-read it once and make quick improvements (being honest here!) I re-read them about 3 times each, as I am very proud of what little I can contribute to MSI.

Week 9: 8/2-5/2021

Monday: I worked from home buttoning up and polishing all my work for MSI that I've done this summer in addition to finishing the label writing for the Fire Fighting artifacts list. I will port that into a Excel workbook like the U505 artifacts list, just to be consistent (as providing a word doc copy as well.) Long day in front of the computer... I worked roughly 10 hours. I just really want to leave a good, and lasting impression on MSI as a show of the supreme gratitude I have for them and this opportunity.

Tuesday: Today I came in feeling a little bit disappointed it is my last week, and endevour to take as much advantage of it as possible. With my Zoom meeting with Voula (who is in Greece right now) we discussed any last questions I had, and she wanted to say that she will be available as a reference and contact for me going forward which means the world over. Today is my day to talk, and work with the Registrar Deanna. She let me know my work on the Russian Cruise missile STYX was very helpful to the gentlemen from Navy doing the inert certifications. That felt really good. Kathleen also forwarded me a project involving one of the flags of U505! The very SAME one I took a photo with learning how to handle textile artifacts. I am over the moon, call it fate that I sought that flag out earlier. (As a former Combat Arms 11Bravo serviceman, holding the captured colors of an enemy combatant captured in combat is nothing short of incredible. So much so the words escape me. A significant emotional experience for me, personally.) We handled the additional two flags, both of which are the correct dimensions for being a port flag, meaning it was flown in dock, and around friendly waters when not on patrol. We handled both, and I took photos showing the measuring tape next to the artifacts to certify these are what they appear to be, the real McCoy. I will follow up with the author of a book about Hans Goebeler, one of the U505 sailors and find out more about this additional Reichskreigflagge he signed! To be entrusted to do this by Kathleen is very empowering. To help Deanna she had me scan all the Black Creativity Juried Art files from 2020 from artists. These were receipts of artwork we kept, or returned. The scanner allows you save files in it that are available to the department computers via wifi. If she has to pull a receipt on a artwork it is catalogued. Not the most exciting work, but work that needs doing. Glad I got to get a flavor of what it entails to be the registrar and put on a different hat, albeit a simple busy-work one for me to get a grasp at how her work differs from the curators.

Wednesday: I had to work from home this day because of issues with my car. Normally not an issue with the battery but with my dad being out of town for work I didn't have a back up vehicle. I still had plenty to work on to finish up.

Thursday: This is my last scheduled work day for the Curatorial internship at MSI. It is completely bittersweet, bitter that it is over, and sweet in the way that I have all these contacts and incredible experiences under my belt. I have a tour scheduled with Mike Welsh whose in charge of facilities, buildings and grounds. Additionally we will have the opportunity to do a in person round table with Chevy Humphrey, President and CEO of MSI. The day began with a little party/meeting hosted by Kathleen for the new assistant curator, registrar and preparator to help with the projects being undertaken by each position. We also celebrated my last day which was very nice. I got to help unpack a 3D photo studio that was massive, and will be a big help photographing these artifacts for cataloguing and being put online. The meeting with Chevy went well if a little underwhelming because I was the only one asking questions! But, hard to pass up a mostly 1:1 dialogue with the CEO and President of MSI. I came back to collections in which Kathleen presented me some gifts from MSI in appreciation of my help for the summer. What a grand and wonderful experience.

Friday: I took my Family, family friends Mike and Kathy, as well as my visiting younger brother the Assistant director of marketing and communications for Atlas Network in DC with his Australian co-worker Vale to see MSI from top to bottom. It began with Kathleen getting us ONBOARD U-505 and let me give the tour. I had never been so honored, and not to mention the onboard for the sub is temporarily closed for COVID. This meant the world, and it was so very cool to share this with my family. It's one thing to talk about a German U-Boat... it's another to be inside a REAL one. She then took us to Collections and again let me give the tour in Storage and was very generous with her time. I then took them to the Henry Crown Space Center, then into the Smart Home Park to grab a drink. I took them to the Science of Storms exhibit and then used the special staff elevator to speedily get me back to Collections to use my work laptop to do the final meeting with Studio Institute. I had to leave the meeting right near the end because we needed to get home and take care of our 14 year old dog Ziggy, and equally old visiting Griffin. It was great to share my presentation with the rest of the Chicago/Memphis interns. This was the first time Chicago was included on the program and I believe the stars aligned to put where I am today, and what I got to do this summer. Thank you. I will try to make an album on Tumblr of images of my internship this summer and I took them with a storyteller’s eye. It’s a pretty cool linear progression of what I found over the course of the internship!

[dans-deep-cuts]

Sometimes you just gotta have a good angst trip. And what band is better for angst than Paramore? Well, specifically 2009 Paramore, as the band has made a conscious and purposeful departure from their punk rock sound to a more synth-pop vibe. Either way, their junior album Brand New Eyes hits a level of angst and turbulence that only a band with a few years under their belt could hit. Inner turmoil within the band and from the bandmates lives combine to create an album with such relatability in its conflict that I’m tempted to compare it to Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours.

Capturing this feeling in spades is the fifth track of the album, Turn It Off. The entire song is a ballad of the jarring feeling of realizing that every adult you’ve looked up to, be they your parents or celebrities, are fallible humans (“I'm watching everyone I looked up to break and bending”). When the very people you thought were invincible turn out to be just as mortal as you, it can make your whole world crash down, make you wonder “does it just get worse from here?” It’s humbling, though, and sends home the message of it being better to live the bitter truth than a sweet lie (“And the worst part is, Before it gets any better, We're headed for a cliff, And in the free fall I will realize, I'm better off when I hit the bottom”).

On the opposite end of the spectrum is the album’s eighth track, Looking Up. While Turn It Off has a bittersweet and melancholic vibe, complimented both by its instrumentals and lyrics, Looking Up captures the band’s highs. With a fast-paced and boppy beat, this song can easily be someone’s pick-me-up song Paramore as a band was going along a bumpy road to success, so while it’s easy to focus on the negatives, this song focuses on how good the positives can feel (“It's not a dream anymore! It's worth fighting for”).

It’s the final track that really encompasses the message of the album, however. All I Wanted is a rock ballad with simple lyrics, with a chorus consisting of the same five words repeated (“All I wanted was you”). This song was written in response to the bitter departure of the band’s main guitarist, Josh Farro, and how it’s impacted lead singer Hayley Williams. The two were once a couple, making the break-up even more difficult and tumultuous for all involved. Though the situation was fraught, all Hayley and Paramore could do was move on with their lives and careers, and learn from their pasts.

This album means a lot to me for a variety of reasons, the biggest one being it’s an album I listened to often during my freshman year of college. Everything was new, and scary, and seemed only doomed for failure. But as I went on throughout the year, hard as things were and as much as I didn’t want to continue, I still did. And now it’s only in hindsight that I realize these rough, even sometimes traumatic situations actually gave me the tools I needed to succeed in the future, making Brand New Eyes a perfect name for the album.

[nellie-elizabeth]

Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.: The End Is at Hand/What We're Fighting For (7x12/13)

And so we're at the end! Let's dive in.

Cons:

I wish I could give a different response, but a lot of this finale had me feeling a little cold. It's not that it was bad, but all the time spent on Kora and Garrett and on other characters who I don't give a shit about... it felt wasted to me. Kora showing up, and the whole "hello sister" thing, like she's Damon from The Vampire Diaries or some shit... and the redemption arc... all of it felt so telegraphed, and so unsatisfying, seeing as Kora is a new character who we haven't had time to get to know. Daisy's emotional arc ends up being about two characters who were only introduced in this season: Daniel and Kora. I liked the stuff with Sousa, but come on! It's supposed to be about family or whatever... Kora is brand new, there was no time to make it land.

The fact that the whole plan hinges on Kora, and on connecting with Daisy... I loved what Daisy said in last week's episode, about how Simmons is her sister and that's where her focus should be. Found Family > A stranger that you just met who happens to share blood with you. Yikes.

And then I thought about the characters they chose to bring back, and the characters that didn't get even a mention. What about Bobbi and Hunter, for goodness' sake?!

Now that I've seen the whole season, I feel like May's character was really wasted here at the end. I like the idea behind her journey, of coming to terms with her emotions through this new lens. That stuff is all well and good. But I can't help feeling a little bit like she just hung out in the background being blank-faced and then at the end she has some good talks with Coulson about how she's really changed and grown, and that's it? Sure, they gave the Chronicoms "empathy" but that felt more like May was a Chekov's gun, not a satisfying character growth moment for her.

"This is the team's last mission" and "this is the last time we'll all be in the same room"... literally why, though? Okay, sure, the band is breaking up, the team is disbanding, people are moving on to new phases of their lives. That's fine. But nothing about how this show ended made it seem like they'd actually never be in the same room together. Why can't they have real in-person reunions?

And speaking of? I feel like I'm going to be in the minority here, but I hated the epilogue stuff. Like... truly, intensely, hated. The facts of the situation are fine. Daisy and Sousa are off in space with Kora. That's fine. May is teaching. Cool. Fitz and Simmons have retired and are just focusing on their family. Love it. Coulson is seeing the world. Mack and Yo-Yo are still at work. All of that makes sense.

But remember when Daisy got all choked up, talking about how she didn't want them to become people who used to be close, who would catch up every once in a while and that was it? Well... that scene, where they all holograph in for a meeting, was exactly that. It wasn't bittersweet, it was just awkward and bitter. The conversation felt incredibly stilted, and everyone was being so wistful and weird and saying awkward dramatic stuff to one another. I think a much better tone would have been set if instead of this "one year later" awkward sit-down, we'd had a bunch of rapid-fire little moment showing their connection, like Simmons saying to Fitz, "oh, don't let me forget to send that research to Daisy," and then Daisy could be in the middle of something and conference in to ask May a question about something, and May could casually mention that Coulson was going to be stopping by soon, and Daisy should conference in to see him, and then Mack could be on the phone with Yo-Yo when he gets a text message from Fitz... like just moments to show that they've all moved on to new things in their lives, but their worlds are still connected. Instead we got something that felt incredibly staged, incredibly sentimental, and read more like a bunch of actors sitting around saying goodbye to a TV show they were on, instead of characters being their authentic selves.

Pros:

Fitzsimmons backstory was appropriately sweet, of course. I mean, everyone knew Fitzsimmons had a secret baby, but it was still adorable and I loved the little actress and the backstory, and Fitz walking Simmons through her memories to help build a bridge back to their family was really sweet and very authentically them. I also loved Piper and Flint guarding the kid while Fitz and Simmons were off saving the world.

Deke was... the highlight of the finale, for real. When he said "Alright people, I've already made up my mind, let's get to it!" I legitimately got chills and teared up a little bit. This is how you do an epic sacrifice without always making it death. We didn't need a main character to die in this finale in order to make it epic and intense and impactful. Deke staying behind? After all the work he put in, after all he did to belong? It works. It's appropriately tragic, that they'll never see each other again, but it's not too devastating, because Deke is the master of making himself at home wherever he is. He's already a rock god in the eighties, and you just know he'll make it work. The one thing I was bummed about is that he didn't get more of a connection with Fitz there at the end. It felt like he really craved Fitz's approval the whole time, and never really quite got it... and then he spent this last season without seeing him, and then they were separated forever. Kind of a bummer, but I guess you can't have everything!

I know that the "cons" section on this one was pretty long, but that doesn't mean I didn't have fun with this finale. The framing of the epilogue was really bad, in my opinion, but the endgame fates of the characters all worked really nicely for me. I especially liked how Coulson and May are in this comfortable "maybe" place and that's where we end them. Coulson is going to swing by and see May, but they're not a couple, and maybe they won't be, but maybe they will... it works for them. They were never the most showy, dramatic characters in the world, and this soft epilogue for them works so nicely. Ending it with Coulson in the car was... really a perfect button on things.

I also think Daisy and Sousa are sweet. I will never stop being bitter about Peggy Carter, of course, but this actually worked nice, and I love that actor, and Daniel is such a lovely character... so I'm happy he's happy, and I'm happy Daisy is out there with her boyfriend (and her sister), winning at life. Mack and Sousa had a cute little bromance going, and I'm sure they stay in touch and tease Daisy about "Quake" for a long time to come.

Everything about the villains had me YAWNING, but I did like Coulson pulling that final trick on Sybil and the day eventually being saved. There were some good bad-ass moments, like Yo-Yo doing her slow-mo fighting, and May pulling out the Cavalry skills to overpower their enemies.

I feel like I don't have much else to say. A lot of things about this finale didn't quite land with me, and I felt like the sentimental tone didn't have its intended effect. But that being said, all my faves got a happy ending, and I can feel grateful for that!

This finale gets...

7/10

The show overall? Oh boy. I've rarely been more torn. The first season of this show was one of the more bizarre/intense viewing experiences of my life. If you go back and read my reviews, you'll know I was not enjoying myself at ALL. But then the twist with Ward hit, and my veins lit up. Skye went from being one of the most annoying characters on television to a dynamic, empowering woman who I was happy to follow for seven years' worth of story. Fitzsimmons is a genuinely good love story, about people who beat the odds no matter what. The found family vibes are real, and I love them. But that first part of the first season, and these last few seasons, have been disjointed. They've been all over the place. There have been good additions (Flint, Deke, Sousa, Enoch), and there have been bad or lazy ones (Kora, basically every villain in this last season that wasn't a Chronicom). I think at the end of the day I'll give the whole show a grade based on how excited I always was to watch it. There were weeks that I didn't really care to find out what happened next, and weeks where I eagerly counted down the minutes. I guess by definition, that makes this show a mixed bag!

7.5/10

[izartn]

I need to rant for a bit. I may be incoherent; those are the feelings. 

I’ve finally read all of 7 tomes I had left waiting of Kaze to Ki no Uta, until the eighth volume. It’s pure suffering and masochism is what I’m saying. In the other hand now I love Serge and Gilbert, but gods why do they have to suffer so much?? damn those 70′s shoujos. I was waiting to have some volumes past the flashbacks and I don’t regret that decision. Now I’ll just wait until the tenth is out and buy the ninth with it to cry bitter tears with the ending - i think after all the disgraces it’ll be a relief to finally end it all. but really the development of serge and gilbert relationship, and serge’s character and those backstories. omg once you read gilbert past his character makes such sense!! it’s no wonder he is how he is. the worst is that he has such potential to be an incredible person; intelligent and kind, so kind, if prone to mind games and second-guessing everything (after his life no one could blame him). he is, like serge said starved of love, and omg that part was very self-reflecting and beautiful. serge is like not exactly naive but yeah. he falling in love with gilbert was such an ugly eye-opener for lots of things about life, but also when he starts growing into himself he is so beautiful ;_;. SPOILER and dammit auguste you filthy rapist!! did you have to touch serge too? SPOILER like really, thankfully he has a strong foundation so he has more self-respect and is able to not take much shit from people but by the volume 7 (i think?) he is traumatized too. i mean. that fucking summer, which started so sweet and ended so ugh. and there is a part where he and gilbert are like super happy and together, and there are a few problems, but gilbert is studying and everybody is like woah, he had an excelent mind all along but doesn’t seem to know the basics of how to interact normally and ugh. fuck auguste really, that ruin-lives. rosmarine wouldn’t be so shitty if it wasn’t for him. (and the way he and serge get along is so sweet ;_;damn why cant they have nice things?) but really. and then serge doesn’t really understand the depth of all the trauma gilbert has and he is like super horrible to him for almost a whole volume besides like misjudging the situation horribly, before understanding what actually was happening all along, and gilbert doesn't say anything, he also loves him and is trying of protecting him in his own fucked up way and thinking that of course serge would left him and all is sergeaugustehisown fault and omg. he is such a mess ;_; the end of volume 8 was so bittersweet.

and pascal and karl and jules woa. those are good secondaries. pascal and karl conversations with serge and between themselves about the whole situation are gold. when pascal said to karl something like “well i don’t know what you and professor watts were expecting when you left all of gilbert recovery in hands of an innocent third party with no idea like serge but you really can’t fault him for caring, after all, about gilbert” bless pascal that if a bit misguided about the whole sex is for reproduction according to biology and so woman are natural way of doing things, doesn’t really judge serge. like, that moment when his sister came to lacombrade and he left her with serge and gilbert, who were enjoying a relaxing afternoon of piano (those are some of my favorite scenes of these two, they are so happy like that ;_; serge composes for the first time because gilbert tells him “why not?” and is fantastic) to like, test her and serge... well at least she ends up talking with gilbert (that scene is golden) about being friends with serge. seems she understood the situation and decided to remain friends... i really liked her character, although well. serge you really are weak for a pretty face uh? although i guess it is more like being weak to people who “needs”/wants his love. with gilbert is mutual, which is why he is such a dick in volume 8 and that is the difference but whoa. the whole story with his cousin angeline...you know, serge is a bit messed up too, but his brand of crazy is less showy and he at least had people to support him until he was like 9 so you don’t notice it like with gilbert. but there is a reason these two go well together when they’re not busy shouting and misunderstanding each other. because well. they fight. a lot xD there is a scene when jules and gilbert sleep together that i was like woa. this isn’t creepy. it’s a one-time thing. gilbert is again trying to cover up his depression and loneliness by sleeping with a guy but that guy actually takes care of him and hasn’t raped him before. is... almost sweet? i mean we get jules perspective on this, and it isn’t really healthy but gilbert is gilbert and he knows what he knows. i was pretty content with it for once. jules is actually an interesting character. it was a surprise seeing how he was watching gilbert go through his ordeal of letting go of auguste and staying with serge and the mess ensuing. his thoughts were.... well. he isn’t exactly fond of serge, but is more like he thinks serge has propelled gilbert to self-destruction by leaving auguste than anything else. like the thoughts of the characters are really warped at points but oh well. they didn’t have good therapy. 

and like. serge. the reaction to seeing the uncle of your roomate kissing and messing around with said roommate isn’t to go talk normally with him and accept an invitation to dinner. like gilbert himself said, “woah he has forgotten everything from before just like that”? sadly, it takes time before serge understands the perfidy of auguste. (and meanwhile, gilbert is jealous and angry with him because hello, auguste is trash) although i’m glad he started to noticed it because of the horrible way he treated gilbert. that summer they went to marseilles was bonkers though. gilbert was super happy at the start; i guess because he had his two favorite people around, but then serge started noticing all the wrong in his relationship with auguste and auguste started messing up with him so he would leave, but then serge is super stubborn and he didn’t leave and gilbert didn’t notice anything until serge just couldn’t stand the situation anymore and told him everything about auguste. like. the suffering? and then serge went back alone but at the last minute gilbert also appeared at the station to go with him, because he couldn’t stand what auguste had done to him. ugh. and then for a while, serge doesn’t even touch gilbert. he recoils from it. because fuck auguste. which, of course, gilbert being who he is, takes as serge not caring about him and starts being depressed (x2 this time) and going crazy again. gilbert, please. your value as a person is not in whether people want to have sex with you or not. please ;_; and then they fight a bit more, and they find each other and serge. kisses gilbert, taking the initiative for the first time and it’s beautiful ;_; they start a relationship this time. beautiful. such a difference between their first time together and other sex scenes. they are so sweet.

well. i think i’ve let go of all the thoughts in my head. maybe i’ll post some of the scenes of the manga later ^^ 

[enjoythepetrichor]

@dinoroaw

Hope this helps and that I got all the links right! I tried to give a bit of variety and leave out unfinished ones, but most of these are shippy and smutty and some of them are unfinished but have touched me in some way.

I have a few more I like (about 3 or 4) that I haven’t included here bc I haven’t added them to my list yet but I will update this once I do.

Anyway, here’s my Trine Fic Rec List:

Short Stories:

1. Proving the Burden of Command

sort of shippy, though it's portayed as how trines normally interact

The Trine being cunning together. Also some politics and story about the early days of the Decepticons.

2. Routine

bittersweet but more bitter

Bonding between the Trine and Starscream being Starscream.

3. Finally!

shippy, friends/enemies to lovers (you'll see)

TC is tired of them not being a proper Trine, but he has a plan.

4. Payback's a Glitch

smut, also has some MegaStar

TC and Skywarp team up on Starscream basically.

5. Claiming Flight

smut

Another take on how the Trine became a Trine.

(I would personally say consent is kind of dubious in this one though.)

6. Flight in the night

smut

Short but sweet.

7. By Old Tradition

smut with a cute story

Starscream claims his Trine, but it's not as easy as he would like it to be.

8. Trined Snapshots

shippy

Sweet and short.

9. Overload Troubles

smut, semi-shippy, short but sweet

Starscream/Skywarp centric with mentions of TC so it qualifies as Trine.

10. Hidden Talent

shippy

Skywarp can be very sweet sometimes.

11. Trine Night

light smut, seeker culture and bonus coneheads

Very domestic.

12. Wired

smut, semi-shippy

The whole Trine has their own takes on interfacing and it needs some working to make all of them happy. But Skywarp is willing to work on it.

13. Price of Peace

hot rod/trine, politics and seeker culture

Hot Rod will become the arranged Conjunx of Starscream, but neither are very fond of the idea, for different reasons.

14. Foolish Things

smut

TC/Warp centric, but Starscream joins them. In his own way.

15. The Seekers Series

prime/alignedverse, pretty short but a nice read

TC and Skywarp show up on the nemesis one day and basically save Starscream from being bullied.

Long(er) Stories:

1. The 'CCC' series, starting with Catalyst

shippy, trine-centric with story

Hurt/Comfort with the Command Trine and a pretty solid story. The trigger warnings should absolutely be kept in mind though!

2. Bedtime Stories

some of the best trine smut out there imo

Porn with and without Plot basically, has a lot of really tender moments.

3. Double Trouble in Red and Yellow & Foundlings (Part 2 here)

one is unfinished, but what there is of it is adorable

The Seeker Trine take in Sideswipe and Sunstreaker as sparklings and do their best to be good parents.

4. On Seeker Habits

really interesting take on seekers, a pretty rough read though bc of all the violence

Seekers are very different from other Cybertronians in this one. Also has a sequel that is still a WIP.

5. A Language Most Foul

unfinished, really tender trine in this one though

Starscream starts to speak Cybertronian and the Nemesis is confused. Cute cassettes in this one.

6. Rejects, Party of Three

how trine became trine at the vosian academy

One of my absolute favourites. Great characterizations, interesting story. Starscream being sweet while somehow staying on-brand. It's really good imo.

7. To Build a Trine

semi-shippy, another really cool take on seeker culture and trines

Really intricate story with lots of politics. Also has a sequel that is less focused on the trine though and honestly pretty sad, as is this one.

8. Trine

unfinished, but what there is of it is very sweet (careful with the tws again though)

The Autobots take TC and Skywarp prisoner and it all develops from there.

9. Kay To a Lock

smut and shippy, D/s

Another take on Trine dynamics, Starscream's Trine and how they came to be.

10. Warp a Starry Sky

smut but not really shippy, seeker culture

Skywarp isn't really all that happy with his arranged Trine, but maybe they can make it work.

11. Mistaken Tactics

violence, shippy but very domestic

Basically CSI with the Trine. Lots of cool ideas regarding Seeker culture and a great story.

12. Feels Like Flying

unfinished, functionist universe, trine and rung

Really good tbh, good hurt and comfort but also unfinished and I'm not sure if it will be finished. But what there is is already really good.

13. The Trine Leader Series

very cute and domestic, pretty short for a series, still a WIP as far as I can tell

TC kills Megatron and tries to establish peace with the Autobots.

14. Send us a Blindfold, Send us a Blade

Literally so so good and incredible and still a WIP but regularly updated. I don't even want to say anything about it, every chapter has me SHOOK.

15. Pesky Trinemates

humanAU, shippy, fluff, unfinished but a WIP

(I'm biased towards this one bc I wrote it lol)

Basically fluffy domestic Trine until it isn't. (And then it is again.)

Bonus:

Adorable AU that has me WEAK where TC is trineleader and Starscream stayed in science. It’s a collection of snippets basically and there is some gold in there tbh. It’s on livejournal and not AO3 though.

[0], [1], [2], [3], [4], [5], [6].

Sorry for the long post everyone.

[teamlarl]

Fly Me to the Moon - Song Post

Adrastia looked at the onlookers with something resembling pity, though it could have just as easily been contempt. Nevertheless, they would be hard pressed to tell in the dim lighting as she walked up to the microphone. All they saw was a pretty girl with a pretty smile. That’s all they ever saw.

Still, this had been fun while it had lasted. This hobby of hers that no one knew about, save two souls. Who would have ever guessed that in her spare time, the soldier with a stick up her ass moonlighted as a lounge singer? She was good at it too. She made them eat out of the palm of her hand.

But this was to be her last performance.

As such, she had decided on a piece that reflected her bittersweet mood. It was a classic, and she had always nurtured an affinity for those. With but a look, the band behind her started playing and Adrastia began to sing.

Fly me to the moon Let me play among the stars Let me see what spring is like On Jupiter and Mars

Adrastia had always reached for the stars. She considered it part of her birthright, as one who controlled that very force of nature that bound them all together. It spoke to her deeper nature, as well, that need to get out. That desire to be free and to finally see, to experience life for herself.

In other words, hold my hand In other words, baby, kiss me

The flash of what looked like a ribbon resting on a patron’s hair caught her violet eyes, but it was just that. A patron tying her hair up with a black ribbon. And yet her chest lurched at such a minor and irrelevant sight. The pleasant smile she always put on for these performances dimmed slightly, but it didn’t matter. It was always a mask anyway.

Fill my heart with song and let me sing forever more You are all I long for All I worship and adore

Oh, how she remembered that worship and adoration. At the time it had felt so damn intoxicating. She could have just as easily lost herself to it. At times she did. Those long nights sneaking away and stealing each other’s affection were permanently etched into her memories like a brand. They seared her. Once with what might have been love, now with bitterness.

In other words, please be true In other words, I love you

Honestly, she hadn’t known what she’d been expecting. Almost everyone in her life played with her like their doll, why would they be any different? All that talk of sticking by her... What garbage. All those suggestions of running away together? Evidently it was for the best that Adrastia had refused. In time it was proven how much of a liar they were. Better to learn that while sticking to her guns than otherwise, no?

Fill my heart with song Let me sing forever more You are all I long for All I worship and adore

So why? Why, why, why could she simply not stop? The slightest reminder and here she was, trampled under the weight of those memories. Without fail they haunted her. A little black bow, a flash of golden eyes, a black cat crossing her path... She wanted it to stop. She needed it to stop. Why wouldn’t it? It was infuriating. It only fueled her hatred more.

In other words, please be true In other words, I love you In other words, I love you.

Adrastia was left breathless as she finished her set. As always, the crowd was oblivious to her slight panting and flushed cheeks. They were always oblivious to the fury she held in her eyes. All they cared for was that fake smile. It didn’t matter. This was her last performance. They would not taint this, no more than her memories did anyway.

In that moment, Adrastia wished they would burn. Maybe they would. After all, Mistral would be no more in a few days. Maybe then the void in her soul would be filled.

[shemakesmeforget]

15 fics under 1K kudos - WIPs

Here’s the list for wips, I might have to do a part 2 for this too lol WHO READS THIS MUCH JSADGSJG these are all fics I think are not abandonded (if I’m wrong, correct me) but I just listed stuff that've been updated in the last 6 months, just in case. Anyway, enjoy :)

A Practical Guide to Winning the Olympics (Dos and Don’ts) by Anna (arctic_grey) (@finleighsaid)

Canonverse, Rated E, 75K, 3 / 4

When pair skater Yuuri Katsuki’s career comes to a scandalous end, he does not expect the retired pair skating legend Viktor Nikiforov to suggest that they compete together. But taking on a new skating partner is full of trial and error, and the skating world doesn’t know how to react when the Katsuki-Nikiforov duo, against all odds, starts doing well. The last thing either of them should do, as they strive for their last chance at greatness, is to fall in love. Yuuri knows he is damaged goods, and Viktor knows his body is starting to fail him. They have competitions to survive and medals to win. No, falling in love is out of the question; they’re just very good friends. And even if Viktor felt something, he’d never act on it, and even if Yuuri happened to be hopelessly in love, he’d be mortified if Viktor ever found out.

“Well,” Viktor said, “let’s summarise: I’m pushing thirty, have a bad ankle, and haven’t skated competitively in three years. You’re barely out of a doping scandal, coachless, and on the JSF’s blacklist. Hell, Yuuri – we might as well go for it, then. What on earth do we have to lose?

When Viktor put it like that, it seemed to make an awful lot of sense.

• The fact that this is one of the few pair skating AUs out there it’s insane imo BUT this one is so good? just imagine the amount of UST, they’re all over each other, i’m in love!

Mon Trésor by KasumiChou (@kasumi-chou)

Canonverse, Rated T, 14K, 4 / 5

Curse his fragile little heart for always falling for people out of his league.

Like, what chance did he ever have with Victor Nikiforov? But Victor still became, not only his childhood idol but also, his first crush.

His first crush was a man four years his senior. A man who lived in another continent. A man that hadn’t known he existed until a week ago.

Then he had moved to Geneva, and his heart had been hypnotized by Chris’s charm

Before he knew it, not only had Chris hypnotized him, but also seduced him.

His fragile little heart had done it again, falling in love with another man out of his league.

At least his second crush had been a little more realistic.

He knew Chris, they had been rink mates - and later roommates.

Maybe that is what made it so much more dangerous.

• Get ready to be hit with angsty love traingle/polyamory feels my dudes, this is about to get juicy af. 

Sometimes you need an alterego by SassySalchow (@diedraechin)

Canonverse, Rated T, 3K, 1/?

In the daytime, I'm Katsuki Yuuri, just a dime-a-dozen figure skater with a normal life. But there's something about me that no one knows yet, 'cause I have a secret... cue theme music

The Miraculous Ladybug! AU that no one asked for but I'm gonna write anyway

• This is so fluffy and fun! I know nothing about ML and enjoyed it a lot anyway.

sweet like love (soft like pain) by postingpebbles (@postingpebbles)

Canonverse, Rated M, 9K, 3/?

Loving Yuuri was a choice that Viktor never regretted making. His smile, his laughter, the way his lips felt against his own—nothing could make him happier than having Yuuri in his arms.

But when the entire world has no idea that rivals Yuuri Katsuki and Viktor Nikiforov are in a relationship, Viktor can't do anything at all when Yuuri gets in an accident and is rushed to the hospital the day after he proposes in a hotel room in Nagano

• Angsty secret relationships are apparently my thing, this one is so bittersweet because they’re so cute and soft but at the same time the drama!!!

the face of heaven (the taste of sin) by RedHeather  (@red--heather)

Canonverse, Rated E, 9K, 2/?

Yuri Plisetsky @y_plisetsky Pity you didn’t medal at Four Continents, 

@phichit_chu . That way you’d have something other than my hands around your fucking neck.Phichit Chulanont 

@phichit_chu @y_plisetsky, can you even reach my neck? 

-

There is a bitter rivalry between Yakov Feltsman and Celestino Cialdini that has stretched on for decades.

As tensions escalate and the ISU begin to punish any aggressors, it was inevitable that Viktor Nikiforov and Katsuki Yuuri, rivals-by-consequence and enemies-by-association, would fall in love.  

• Rivals AU but like whole skating fams against each other!!!!! Sassy Yuuri, pining Viktor, angry Yuri and lots of social media shenanigans.

Focus on Me by alipiee (@alipiee)

College AU, Rated T, 5K, 1 / 2

For Victuri Gift Exchange 2017 

Prompt: "College AU -Yuuri’s roommate Phichit has to suddenly move back to Thailand for the rest of the semester due to a family emergency, and Yuuri has to find a new roommate quickly in order to pay the rent on their apartment. Viktor is the only one who applies, and he’s not at all what Yuuri expects."

• ALL THE PINING with a side of misunderstanding, good stuff! so sweet

Time and Hearts Will Wear Us Thin by lunar_peach

College AU, Rated T, 151K, 19 / 20

Maybe it was the impact of the fall, and the numbing action of the ice, but he felt weightless. He felt conquered by cupid and the sting of his arrow right in the middle of his chest as he looked up at Yuuri, who held a blank expression on his face.

Maybe it was the impact of the fall, and the numbing action of the ice, but he felt weightless. He felt conquered by cupid and the sting of his arrow right in the middle of his chest as he looked up at Yuuri, who held a blank expression on his face.

Somewhere in the distance, though it seemed like a different dimension to Victor, a timer went off. The music stopped.

You could hear it in the silence then.

Victor’s heart was going one hundred miles an hour.

Or the one where Yuuri Katsuki, scented candle aficionado, and self-proclaimed hot mess, never intended to capture the attention of one eligible bachelor, Victor Nikiforov, but sometimes the universe has its ways of making things happen. Amidst inner battles with their demons and themselves, they find a world in one another neither quite expected.

• The tags look kinda crazy but don't fear (?) this fic goes through lots of years LOTS, a story about friendship, love, heartache, “we can't be together vs we should be together”, and the ongoing growth of the characters BEWARE it gets super angsty at times.

do you love me just a little, honey? by DefiantDreams (@gia-comeatme)

Spy/Mafia AU, Rated E, 4K, 1 / 3

Viktor Nikiforov, next Pakhan, has a type.

Yuuri Katsuki, Division 6’s newest honeypot agent, is sent to exploit that.

• Honeypot Yuuri aka my dream, awesome funny sexy mystery!

Victor the Great by Multiple_Universes (@witharthurkirkland)

Historical AU, Rated T, 43K, 17 / 21

At the age of nine Victor became the Tsar of all the Russias with Lilia as regent. One day he will be the sole ruler of Russia, the man who makes all the decisions and gets to do what he wants, with one exception: he has to marry a woman from a Russian aristocratic family. Except that he falls in love with a boy who is a foreign commoner. Will he risk the throne to be able to marry the one he loves? 

Based loosely on Peter the Great's life (with some tweaks made to history).

• Follow the life of Tsar Viktor falling in love with Yuuri and eventually having his very own St. Victorburg or Yuuriburg ;)

It's All Contextual by AlexWSpark (@alexwspark)

Office AU, Rated M, 24K, 6 / 8

Why in the seven levels of fuck was Victor Nikiforov buying him coffee?

Yuuri decides to find out.

• Dorky Viktor + Confident Yuuri + misunderstanding = surprisingly not an angsty story!! very cute and fluffy

The Roommate Trap by impolitecanadian (@impolitecanadian)

Roommate AU, Rated M, 11K, 5/?

Victor doesn't believe in marriage. So when Chris, his best friend and roommate of 6 years, tells him he's going to have to move out so he can get married, Victor is reasonably upset. Good thing Victor's upstairs neighbour is looking for a roommate and maybe a little (okay, a lot) more. 

this is basically the odd couple but with a lot more sex and non-subtextual gayness 

• Viktor is a fool, Yuuri is the sass master/anxiety disaster, Chris just wants all the drama. They totally don’t work well together but it’s hilarious.

Roses of May by cuttlemefish (@cuttlemefishwrites)

Royalty/Magic AU, Rated E, 18K, 5/?

At age five, all children are assessed for talent and beauty in the City of Hasetsu and the other eight cities of the Empire. Every year, five are branded with the mark of a rose before being carded off to the Emperor’s palace where they are trained to become Roses, or sacrifices to be sent every May to the Ice Spirit that lives in the castle at the top of the mountain. Roses never return, except for Katsuki Yuuri, who shocks the Empire when he appears again two years after his departure with a silver crown on his head and a blond baby in his arms, demanding the Emperor step down or face the wrath of his husband, the Ice King. But, not everything is what it seems.

• Such an interesting world with lots of very well thought details! also... growing up together, childhood friends to lovers...... you can’t come at me like that.

History Maker by 96percentdone (@96percentdone)

Time Travel/Soulmates AU, Rated T, 15K, 5/?

It's the year 2134. Katsuki Yuuri, recently turned 18, just got his soulmark. There's really only one thing left to do: submit it to the online database and figure out who his match is, meet up with them and hopefully live happily ever after. Seems simple enough, right? Well, it would be, if his soulmate wasn't Viktor Nikiforov, a figure skating legend from the early 2000s.

AKA the story where Yuuri invents time travel to be with his soulmate, and shenanigans happen.

• me at me: don’t read this you’re a big baby and you’ll suffer; also me:¯\_(ツ)_¯ I like this AU a lot, imagine being so iconic you invent time travel just to meet your soulmate.

Toxic Valentine by voxofthevoid (@voxofthevoid)

Demons AU, Rated E, 53K, 8/?

The worst he can do is kill you with his dick.

Viktor, pleasantly tipsy and unpleasantly lonely, assumes that the pretty man he sees in a club is a sex demon. Instead, he finds reserved, nervous Katsuki Yuuri who’s as reluctantly enchanted by Viktor as Viktor is by him.

The rest of the night is unforgettable, and in the morning, Yuuri’s still there.

Love bleeds into lust, infatuation becomes adoration, and it's not long before the loneliness Viktor wears like a shroud disintegrates under the weight of warm brown eyes and tender hands. But Viktor has his secrets, and Yuuri might not be all he seems. 

In which Viktor discovers life and love in a man who’s as mysterious as he is beautiful, and it could be the best or worst thing that’s ever happened to him.

• The love story between the thirstiest demon hunter aka Viktor and a demon???????  Yuuri. A great balance between fluff, sexy times and mystery!

Water by Peasantaries (@peasantaries)

Dancers AU, Rated E, 26K, 11 / 15    

Yuuri is nineteen, a student at the Royal Ballet School in London, and already having doubts when Viktor Nikiforov joins as a guest teacher.

Famous, beloved Russian Prince in Bourne's Swan Lake, Nikiforov is Yuuri's idol from afar, but these two forces soon collide after Viktor oversees Yuuri practising and decides that Yuuri could surpass him, if only he can learn to move like water.

[WILL BE COMPLETED]

• lots of dancing!!! off the charts UST!!! Two dorks that should DATE ALREADY!! amazing

Shall We Dance? by darlingholocene (@byebyeholocene)

DWTS AU, Rated T, 11K, 6/?

Season 21 of Dancing With the Stars is about to air its first episode (March 30, on ABC), and the celebrity cast has finally been announced today.

Among them is Russian ice skating legend Victor Nikiforov, two-time Olympic Gold Medalist and five-time World Champion. Nikiforov, who just won Gold at the Sochi Olympics in front of his home public, has been paired with DWTS veteran Yuuri Katsuki, who is yet to win the Mirrorball Trophy despite this being his eighth season as a pro.

-

Victor and Yuuri's journey on DWTS narrated entirely through social media. 

• Totally a pick me up fic! light, fun and adorable!