#Kurt D neither

[imaginedisish]

Poker Face (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: OKAY! Here is the strip poker fic! This is not a request, but there are a few requests I really like, so I'm most likely going to write one of those next! Could not waste the opportunity to use Lady Gaga's "Poker Face" as the inspiration here. I hope you guys enjoy!

Summary: You and Logan are alone in the mansion for the evening, and after a few drinks, your game of Blackjack turns into strip poker...

Warnings: 18+ Sexually Explicit Content MINORS DNI!!! Oral (f!receiving), Fingering, Unprotected PIV, multiple orgasms, softdom!Logan(?), cocky!Logan, alcohol consumption (neither reader nor Logan get drunk), feelings, friends to lovers, strip poker!, f!reader/afab reader, cursing, def some grammatical errors (proofread this one between weird times), I think that's it!

Word Count: 4,025 how did I do that???

The house is empty. Quiet. It’s so strange, almost eerie, but honestly welcome. You can’t remember the last time you were ever so alone. Not lonely—alone. Comfortably and peacefully alone. 

Scott, Jean, and Storm took most of the children off on an overnight camping trip, while Hank, Kurt, and Charles were on a mission with some of the older mutants. Rogue and Gambit were out somewhere, leaving you and Logan in the mansion alone. 

You’re sitting at the kitchen table, back to the window, looking out at the empty room. Everything is untouched—neatly put away. You know things will be back to normal by tomorrow afternoon—dishes in the sink, shoes all over the floor, kids shouting down the halls. But for now, there’s nothing. No disruptions. No—

“Oh, hey,” Logan mumbles, stepping through the doorway and into the kitchen. “Didn’t know you were in here.”

You smile, trying your best not to let your eyes flit up and down his body. He’s wearing one of his tight beaters and a pair of jeans. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want him—if you said that being alone in the mansion with him wasn’t somewhat overwhelming. You’ve wanted Logan since the day you joined the X-Men, just a few months ago. And while you’ve become close friends, you know it’ll never progress further than that. 

“Wanna join me?” You ask, tilting your head to the chair across from you. 

Logan smirks and nods. He walks to the fridge, swings open the French doors, and reaches inside. “Got something for us, actually,” he says, glasses clinking as he rummages through the fridge. He pulls out whatever he’s looking for, turning around, and revealing a 6-pack of beer. 

“No way!” You shout excitedly. “Logan Howlett, breaking the rules as always.”

He sits down across from you, placing the beers in the center of the table. “You know you love it,” he husks, grinning widely. 

You can feel the heat rising to your chest. He’s right. “I do,” you whisper, hoping he doesn’t catch on to the implications of your words. If he does, he doesn’t show it. He grabs a beer by its neck, pops off the cap with ease, and holds the bottle out towards you. Your fingers brush his as you take the beer from him, his hands warm and surprisingly soft. The contact is fleeting, effervescent. You wish he could touch you again. 

You bring the bottle to your lips, the cold beer a distraction from your all-too-hot thoughts. You watch as Logan pulls a bottle for himself, his muscles flexing as he removes the cap. He brings the bottle to his mouth and knocks it back, his throat bobbing as he swallows. 

“So…” You trail off, doing your all to ignore the way his tongue swipes across his upper lip as he places the beer back down on the table. You take another swig of your beer, ready to down the entire thing just to give yourself the confidence to say something. “D-did you wanna do anything?” You take another big gulp. 

Logan smiles. “Not sure,” he says, taking a sip. “You got anything in mind, princess?”

Your heart flutters at the familiar nickname. You rub a finger up and down the beer bottle, streaking the condensation. “We could play a game,” you offer, your eyes finding his. “Cards?”

Logan hums in affirmation as he knocks his beer bottle back again. He’s already practically finished. “You wanna play Blackjack?” He asks, taking a final sip before standing up and walking over to the kitchen island. He rifles through a couple of drawers before finding a pack of cards. He sits back down across from you, grabbing another beer and cracking it open. 

“Sure,” you answer, watching as Logan slips the cards from their box and expertly shuffles them. He thumbs the cards, dexterously letting them slide through his long fingers. He deals you the first card, face up, and then does the same for himself. You have a king of hearts, and Logan has a five of diamonds. He deals again, and you’re given a nine of clubs. It’s a good hand. Better than Logan’s, so far. He deals himself another card, looking at it briefly before putting it face down on the table. 

He smirks up at you. “Hit, or stay?” He asks.

You roll your eyes. “Stay, obviously.” He shakes his head, smiling as he deals himself another card. 

“Well, princess,” he says, showing you all three of his cards now. Five of diamonds, queen of hearts, and six of spades. “Looks like I won.” He’s smug as he grabs your cards and shuffles them back into the deck. 

You scoff and let him deal you in again.

You’ve only had two drinks, but there’s something about being with Logan that makes you feel like you’re drunk. You’ve been playing Blackjack for almost forty-five minutes now, round after round. Despite this being a game of chance, it seems like Logan wins far more often than you do. 

And yet, something gives you the sudden confidence to up the ante. 

“Lo?” You ask, taking a swig of your third beer, now. He looks up at you and hums, dealing the next round. You lean across the table. “What if we…” you trail off. “Made this more exciting?” 

Logan looks across the table under hooded eyes. You can sense the sudden shift in his expression, and you know he can sense the suggestiveness in your voice. The corner of his mouth turns up—a sly, half smile. “Exciting how, princess?”

You’re nervous now—all talk and no action. “Maybe we could bet somehow?” You offer, but Logan knows that’s not truly what you mean. He cocks his head, eyes narrowing.

And then he says exactly what you’re thinking—as if he can read your mind. “What about strip poker?” 

Your eyes widen and you swallow harshly. Logan is focused on you, still folding the cards into each other. You finally nod your head. “Sure, sounds fun.” 

Logan quickly deals the first cards. You have an ace, and Logan has a ten of diamonds. He places another card down for you—seven of clubs—and another face down for himself. 

“Hit or stay?” He asks, his eyes set on yours. He’s leaning closer to you than he was before. 

You take a deep breath. “Stay,” you answer, your voice trembling ever so slightly now. 

Logan shakes his head. “Wouldn’t have mattered anyway,” he says, flipping over his second card. It’s an ace of hearts. He collects your cards without another word, but his eyes are still glued to you. 

You bite your lip nervously and decide to tug away your sweatshirt. You’re wearing a thin tank top underneath, much to your relief. Logan’s eyes flit up and down your body, drinking you in. 

You drape the sweatshirt across the back of your chair, your eyes narrowing in Logan’s direction. “You have to be cheating,” you accuse sarcastically.

Logan grins ear to ear as he deals again, looking down at the table. “Just lucky,” he says, the words stopping your heart. “Very lucky.” He looks back up at you. Your breath catches in your throat. 

There’s a four of hearts in front of you this time. You roll your eyes at the low card. Logan—naturally—has a jack of diamonds. He places another card in front of you, a nine of clubs, and another face down for himself.

“Hit,” you mutter before he can ask the question. He places a seven of diamonds in front of you and shakes his head. He reveals his other card: an eight of spades. You smile widely, self-satisfied as you grab your beer by the neck and take a long swig. You lean back in your chair, watching as Logan pulls his beater up and over his head. 

He’s perfect, you think to yourself. Sure, he’s all chiseled abs and muscles, but he truly is beautiful. And you hope he knows it. “Happy now?” He asks, dealing the next hand. 

Heat spreads across your chest and down to your stomach. Your clothes feel tight, itchy. You try your best to ignore the way Logan makes you feel—to ignore the way you long to press your thighs together for some sort of friction. You—very obviously—are failing horrifically. 

“Hit, or stay?” Logan asks. You’re so distracted by him that you completely missed the deal. You look down to see an eight of hearts and a six of diamonds. Logan has a king of spades face up, and his other card face down. 

You raise your eyebrows, mulling it over in your mind. “Hit,” you finally spit out, and Logan deals you a ten of clubs. 

Oh. 

“Well shit,” you mumble. Logan chuckles as you stand up, struggling to decide what to take off. You look down at your athletic shorts and decide those are the next to go. You slip them down your legs and place them on the back of the chair with your sweatshirt. 

Logan’s throat bobs as his eyes trail up and down your legs. He isn’t laughing anymore; there’s something serious in his eyes, something dark. He works his jaw as you sit back down across from him. He looks pained as he deals the next hand. 

You cock your head to the side as he places a queen of hearts in front of you. “Are you okay?” You ask.

“’M’fine,” he answers curtly, drawing an ace of diamonds for himself. He quickly places another card down for you—a five of spades—and another face down for him. 

But you can tell there’s something wrong. It’s the way he moves, the way he fidgets in his seat. You reach out tentatively across the table, your fingers brushing against his. “Logan,” you soothe. “We don’t have to play if you don’t want to.” 

His eyes find yours, and he smiles softly, looking at your cards and then flipping his over. He got it. Twenty-one. Blackjack. “I think this game is almost over,” he says, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. 

You roll your eyes and grab the hem of your tank top, slowly pulling it up your body and over your head. Now all that’s left is your sports bra and your panties. You look across the table, and there’s Logan, eyes locked on you. “One more round?” You ask. 

But he ignores you, pushing out his chair, standing up, and walking over to you. “No,” he murmurs. “I think we’re done with the game.” He pulls your chair out from the table and leans down over you, placing his hands on either armrest, caging you in. 

His eyes are dark and filled with lust, his lips just centimeters from yours. Your noses brush, his breath fanning across your cheeks. You can smell him—the pine and musk and tobacco, his shampoo, a hint of mint. 

“L-Lo,” you stutter, your heart beating out of your chest as he leans in closer. There’s something animalistic, something primal about the look in his eyes. 

“I know you want me, pretty girl,” he husks. “Could smell that pussy crying for me before you even took those little shorts off.” 

“I-I,” you stutter, unable to form a coherent thought, no less a sentence. Your thighs rub together involuntarily at Logan’s words, searching for friction, for relief. 

Logan chuckles darkly. “Yeah,” he hums, one hand dropping from the armrest and slipping in between your thighs. “That’s what I thought, princess.” 

He pushes your legs open, his fingertips trailing along your inner thigh, slowly climbing higher. He finally reaches your heat and two of his fingers drag teasingly through your clothed folds, up to your clit. “Haven’t even touched you yet and you’re already soaked,” Logan growls, stroking you through your panties. “Making a mess of the chair, hm?”

“Logan,” you whine, his fingers circling your clit and then pulling away. Before you can protest the loss of contact, he’s hoisting you up and out of the chair, his hands squeezing your ass, holding you tightly in his arms. You wrap your legs around his waist and bring your hands to the nape of his neck.

He carries you through the kitchen and into the hallway. He stops in his tracks and pushes your back against the wall, his lips finally finding yours. The kiss is rushed and frantic, like he just has to have you now, like he’s so hungry he’d die if he waited another second. He grinds his hips into yours, his erection straining through his jeans. 

“Need you, darlin’,” Logan mumbles against your lips, his chest heaving in time with yours. “Needed you this whole time.” He finally steps away from the wall and heads towards the stairs. You thread your fingers through Logan’s hair as he bites your lower lip, your pulse point, kissing you anywhere he can as he walks up the stairs and into his bedroom. 

He closes the door with a kick, and strides over to the bed in the center of the room, placing you down in the middle and crawling over you. His lips find yours again, his tongue darting out and sliding over your bottom lip, silently asking to be let inside. How could you ever say no? How could you ever not give him whatever it is he wants?

Logan balances on his forearm as his free hand trails up your body, warm and soft and soothing. He finds the hem of your bra and pulls the fabric over your tits. You arch your back, helping him slip it off the rest of the way. He finds your breasts, massaging gently before teasingly rolling your nipple under his thumb. 

“So fucking beautiful,” he huffs, moving to your other breast, pawing at the flesh, rolling over your nipple again, pinching lightly. His knee is settled between your legs, keeping you spread open for him. Your hips involuntarily rock against him, your needy core sliding up and down his thigh, searching for relief. 

Logan smiles against your lips and swallows your moans with a kiss before his touch suddenly disappears. His knee is no longer between your legs—the delicious friction gone. Your eyes flutter open and closed as he crawls down your body, kissing his way to the hem of your panties. 

“Lo,” you whimper as he places a chaste kiss to your clothed clit. “Please,” you beg, squirming underneath him. 

His arm latches around your waist, holding you down to the mattress while his other hand hooks inside the waistband of your panties. He tugs teasingly, taking his time as he slides your panties down your legs and tosses them off to the side. Logan settles himself between your thighs, his breath fanning against your cunt.

His arm is still firmly pushing you down into the mattress as he brings his face closer to where you need him most. “Wanna taste this pretty pussy, darlin’,” Logan grunts, and his tongue swipes through your folds, dragging across your slit and up to your clit. 

You curse under your breath as Logan licks another long stripe, his tongue finishing with a flick to your clit. “So fucking sweet,” Logan murmurs against you, the bass and vibration of his voice sending a burst of pleasure up your spine. “Knew you’d taste so good, pretty girl.” 

Logan pulls you closer to him, burying his face into your cunt like a man starved. He takes your clit between his lips, sucking roughly. His fingertips slide up your inner thigh, drawing higher and higher until he finds your folds. 

“Such a fucking tease,” Logan mutters, spreading your slick, prodding your entrance. “Using cards as an excuse to take your clothes off for me.” He shoves two fingers deep inside you as his tongue circles your clit. “Wanted me that bad, huh?” You can feel him smiling against you, all smug as he pulls his fingers from your slit and plunges back in. 

“Y-yes,” you stutter. His grip is like iron across your hips, keeping you in place, stopping you from squirming. “Wanted y-you so fucking bad.” 

He pumps his fingers in and out, down to the knuckles as he laps at you. He sucks at your clit again, harder this time. “I know, sweetheart,” Logan soothes, his thumb rubbing against your hip as his thrusts become faster, deeper. You’re already shaking underneath him—a trembling mess. “I’ve got you, pretty girl,” he coos. 

His tongue flicks your clit, swirling around the bud, adding more pressure with every stroke. Your walls flutter around his fingers, taking him in deeper. “Logan,” you whine, growing closer with every pump. “I-I—”

You’re cut off as he adds a third finger. “That what you needed, princess?” Logan asks, all cocky and self-assured. Your back arches off the mattress and Logan tightens his grip on your hips, holding you down as he devours you. “You’re not going anywhere until I’m finished with you.”

Your muscles clench around him at the words. His teeth graze lightly against your clit as he pulls the bud into his mouth, sucking roughly. “Lo…” You trail off, unable to use any semblance of language to communicate the way he’s making you feel. 

“Taking me so good, darlin’,” Logan praises, his fingers fucking into you unrelentingly. “Such a good fucking girl.” 

You’re so close, almost at that edge, pleasure burning through your every nerve ending. “’L-Lo I’m so—” you choke out.

“So fucked out that all you can say is my name,” Logan teases, sucking on your clit between sentences. “Wanna feel you come around my fingers.” He pushes himself in deeper. “Wanna taste it.”

“F-fuck,” you stutter, contracting around him uncontrollably. The tension building in your stomach finally snaps, the fire set free to burn through your body. “Logan!” You cry out, chanting his name like it’s a sacred prayer. And maybe it is.  

“I’ve got you,” Logan soothes, his tongue still lapping at you, his fingers still thrusting in and out. “I’m right here, let go for me.” He works you through your orgasm, his pumps slowing down as you ride out your high.

He pulls his fingers from your cunt, but his face doesn’t move. He’s still lapping at you, his tongue swiping through your folds, your slit, up to your clit. He’s drinking you in, savoring the taste of you. 

“Lo,” you whimper, running your hands through his hair, trying to guide him up your body. But he doesn’t budge. He grunts against your core, his tongue dragging through your heat. “Please,” you beg. “Need you, Lo.”

He licks one more long stripe through your folds before finally lifting his head to look up at you. Your release is painted across his lips, glistening in the moonlight. His tongue darts out, licking away the proof of your orgasm. 

“Need me, sweetheart?” He asks, sitting up, unbuckling his belt and letting it fall to the floor with a clink. He unbuttons his jeans and pulls his zipper down. “Need me to fuck you?” You nod, settling into the pillows at his headboard as he tugs his jeans and boxers down his legs. 

His cock springs free, bouncing against his stomach. You swallow nervously at the size of him. He settles on top of you, balancing on his forearm as he guides his cock to your entrance. 

Logan presses a chaste kiss to your lips as his tip nudges through your folds. “Thought about this for a long time,” he murmurs, the head of his cock bumping against your clit before sliding back down towards your entrance. His lips meet yours again, more hurried and hungry this time. “Always thinking about you.” And then he buries himself deep inside you, down to the hilt. He stalls, unmoving, giving you a moment to adjust to the size of him. He’s stretching you out, working you open. You grab his biceps, searching for purchase. Nothing could have prepared you for this, for the way he fills you up and makes you feel whole. 

“Feels so fucking good,” Logan whispers, pulling out and pushing all the way back in. “So tight, so perfect,” he praises, slowly setting a rhythmic pace, pumping in and out. 

His hand leaves the base of his cock and slips between your bodies, finding your clit—still sensitive from your first orgasm. His thumb strokes soft circles into the bud, drawing a moan from your lips. 

“Y-yes,” you pant as Logan plunges into you, faster and deeper with each thrust. You can feel him throbbing inside you, his cock dragging against your walls. It’s already too much—already more than you can handle. “F-feels so good, Lo.”

His hips snap against yours. “I know it does, pretty girl,” Logan coos, rutting into you. “Gonna take care of you. Gonna make you feel good.” His words go straight to your core, your muscles contracting around him. He curses under his breath at the feeling, your pussy taking him deeper as he sinks inside you. “Squeezing me already, sweetheart.”

He’s fucking into you, his pace growing reckless and punishing. He adds more pressure to your clit, rubbing harder, faster. You don’t know how much longer you’ll last, not with his lips at the shell of your ear whispering praises. 

“So fucking beautiful,” he husks, his hips rocking against yours. “Taking me so good, doing so well for me.” He’s hitting that sweet spot inside you with every thrust. He swallows your moans with starving, desperate, needy kisses—biting your lips, bruising them. He’s consuming you, taking everything you have to give him. 

He presses his forehead to yours, pounding into you, somehow finding a way to sink deeper inside. Your walls flutter around him, and you know you’re almost there. “Logan,” you croak, pushing your hips into his. 

“F-fuck,” he stammers, his cock twitching inside you, massaging your inner walls. “I know princess, know you’re close.” You can feel his thrusts faltering, growing sloppier. “Wanna feel you come on my cock, pretty girl.” You moan his name, wrapping your legs around his waist, keeping him close as he pumps in and out. “Come for me, darlin’.”

Logan pinches your clit and buries himself deep inside, sending you over the edge. Your orgasm crashes into you, your walls clenching around him, squeezing him tighter. “Stay,” you whisper, and he knows what you mean—knows exactly what you’re asking for.

He curses under his breath and his head falls to your shoulder as he comes undone, too, filling you up, spilling inside you. Everything is liquid heat. Your muscles contract and relax, your shoulders melting into the mattress. Everything feels hazy as Logan gently strokes your clit, thrusting in and out of you slowly, riding out your orgasms. 

He finally pulls out, wrapping his arms around your back and rolling you over so that you lay on top of his chest. He holds you close, his fingers trailing up and down your back. He kisses the crown of your head. “You okay?” He whispers into the silence of the room. 

“Yeah,” you answer, burying your face into his chest. “’M’perfect.”

He presses another kiss to the top of your head. “Wanted you for so long, princess,” he husks, his voice deep and raspy. 

“Wanted you, too, Lo,” you say, pressing a kiss to his chest. 

You can hear his heart beating; can hear every breath he takes. You can even hear the smile in his voice. “You have a terrible poker face, you know.”

You laugh softly, lifting your head from his chest. “I think it’s just fine, thank you very much.” He’s smiling down at you, his hair a mess, sweat still on his brow. He’s perfect. So fucking perfect. “And besides, you’re the one who suggested strip poker.”

He shakes his head, tugging you back down to his chest. “Should’ve played it sooner.” You can feel his chuckle reverberate through his lungs. “We can play again if you want…”“…but this time we skip the poker part.”

tags: @ilysmdovie12 @prettyseaveins @spiderset @figsnpassionfruits @silversprings-mp3 @movhoney @wittyjasontodd @theasiaabattoir @fanfic-writing-barbie @manipulatour @pedrohoe04 @derbygracie @honeyfewr

[annepi-blog]

Leaps and Dives - A Klaine Story (1/14)

Hello everyone,

Welcome to my impromptu entry for the Klaine Word Scramble 2024! I've always liked the idea of this challenge, but I didn't really have an idea for a story. Then, two days ago, I saw this post and there it was :D

That being said, my August is so full that I won't always be able to write up to date for the prompts, but I promise I'll get it done in time. I think this will be done in September at the latest.

I would also like to point out that I am only a casual sports watcher and do not know too much about the rules of the Olympic disciplines. I will research everything as best I can in the short time between prompts, but forgive me if something is not correct. It's still fiction :) But what I love about the Olympics is the atmosphere and the incredible athletic performances, and I hope I can capture that feeling with this story.

Today's word for the first chapter: earbuds

Summary: As the 2024 Paris Olympics unfold, gymnast Blaine Anderson and diver Kurt Hummel find themselves navigating more than just their athletic dreams. Blaine, focused on his second chance at Olympic glory, crosses paths with Kurt, a newcomer to the world of professional diving with extraordinary talent. What begins as a chance encounter blossoms into something neither of them expected.

[queen-scribbles]

*crawls out of the woodwork* hi hi! Just wanted to say your vesper x kurt fics are amazing and thank you for sharing content. Have been back to this Fandom in the year of our lord 2024 lol. And I just wanted to scream about the de vespe DLC with a kurt fan and....

*swoons*

It's everything I hope for and more!! Would love to hear about your initial thoughts especially the dialog with kurt!

HI! Always nice to meet another Kurt fan! :D You're very welcome for sharing content, thank you for reading! I'm glad you enjoyed them bc I do love writing about them.

OH LORD, the de Vespe DLC, I was excited for more content when that came out and it delivered. Especially for Kurt and his romance, holy cow. (In other words I WOULD LOVE TO TALK ABOUT IT THANKS FOR GIVING ME AN EXCUSE) I have multiple posts from various playthroughs in my Greedfall gaming tag about the Kurt stuff, from how protective and supportive he is, to him being all "Don't believe the nonsense in Aurelia's files on us" when his is just that he cares too much about the recruits and is too loyal to be bribed and I'm just like. Dude. I knew these things already. Neither one is nonsense, sorry I know you're actually a gigantic softie, in my defense you DIDN'T HIDE IT VERY WELL but his romance dialogue

HOLY

SHIT

I also have several posts joking about Kurt's VA owing me compensation for emotional damage with how well he does a lot of personal quest/romance scenes, but the KURT ROMANCE DIALOGUE IN THE DLC OH MY GODDDDDD. OH MY GOD. I have a save right before that conversation and I redid it about five times on the initial run, at least three on each replay, and will occasionally load that save JUST TO HEAR IT AGAIN bc it's so GOOD. He worries about you but knows you can handle yourself, no what's bugging him(and I love that DS is so gentle about the "you know you can talk to me right?") is the arranged marriage thing bc OFC you deserve "better"(/eyeroll) and he's being all doubting his worth again and YOU CAN ASK HIM TO MARRY YOU (THE WAY I WHOOPED first time through, seeing that option) before your uncle can go arranging anything and HIS VOICE. That quiet little "do you really mean what you just said?" is permanently etched into my brain partly bc I've heard eighteen times but whatever. He can't believe it, he has to be dreaming, and then you confirm and his only hesitation is worrying what will happen to you(bc he doesn't matter, he's an insignificant mercenary and Kurt buddy you MATTER TO HER we gotta work on that). And I gotta say that I love your response boiling down to "what's my uncle gonna do about it, he's halfway around the world and he needs me here😎" BAD.ASS. And once he's sure you're sure he's 100% in favor and you exchange I love yous and I melted into an extremely happy puddle.

(I did write a Ves/Kurt wedding fic and it's one of the most breathlessly joyful pieces I've made in my life, both of them were practically vibrating they were so happy)

[spaceorphan18]

If either Kurt or Blaine got an offer of a really good role, but it potentially meant them being a long distance apart for say 6 months or longer, like say LA from NY or even further, do you think they'[d both go, or they'd work apart? Would they argue over whose career was more important? What would happen when they have a child/children?

I think the context is a big thing.

I think if they didn't have children, they may try it. I think Kurt would be better at it, whether he was the one to stay or go, he'd be okay alone. Blaine would be the one having a more difficult time. But I think that if they did try it, there'd be some mandatory relationship communication going on. Like, they'd set up that they call each other every night or something so that they'd never feel too apart from each other.

I don't think they'd go years though. Four or five months on a tour, sure. But that would be the limit. Neither of them would want to live without the other for that long. I also don't think either would be that willing to give up their own career to follow the other one around. Unless they were both involved, I do see them agreeing to it.

The kids aspect changes everything though. Neither would leave the other one with a child, alone, for any length of time.

I'm guessing the first time an opportunity appeared, they'd discuss it, but I mean, post-Season 6, they've both grown up a bit, and I'd like to think would be better about having these discussions with each other.

[gerec]

Sorry for writing to you on tumblr, but I wanted to ask you a few more questions about the story, and I also wanted to avoid any more spoilers on AO3 in case anyone didn't like them (I actually love spoilers). You wrote that you want Erik to remarry, but is he doing it because he is divorcing Kurt or because Kurt is dying? Do you think they will have more children? Will Cain ever come into the picture? And why does Charles care so much about Erik (even though he leaves him to go to Oxford, but Charles is Charles and school comes first)? Does he feel guilty? And finally, will Edie ever talk to her son about why she married such an old man and what she is doing with his life? Sorry for all the questions, but I love your story. Feel free not to answer the ones you don't like.

Thank you.

Thank you for being so interested in this story!!! I mean, I LOVE it, the whole idea of Erik as a 50s New York socialite but it's so niche i'm not really expecting much interest/engagement so this is awesome truly thank you! Going to answer your questions under the cut:

About Kurt - At the moment I'm undecided whether Erik is going to divorce him or if Kurt is kicking the bucket. I don't think they're going to have any more children after this one though, because neither of them are really all that interested in kids tbh lol.

Both Cain and Raven will make appearances yes!

Charles cares because Erik is so young and he feels bad about it and also responsible because the 'seduction' happened in his house (even if he wasn't physically there). Charles is always going to care about Erik and the baby, even after he and Kurt split.

About Edie! Okay, so there's no doubt that Edie loves Erik and would not have chosen this life for him BUT maybe also part of her is choosing to see the good in the situation? Like Erik is living a life of unimaginable wealth/comfort he probably never could have achieved if he hadn't married Kurt, so as long as Erik wants this she isn't going to fight it. And I don't think Erik feels like he can share his misgivings with his mother since he feels responsible for getting himself 'caught' as it were. I think eventually they'll talk it out, but probably not for a long time (years) and only after Erik has 'become' one of the snobby rich folks he's railing against in these early days :D

[indelibleevidence]

Broken Wings, chapter 1 (Reller, M-rated)

Author's Note: Also on FanFiction.Net and AO3! Updating on Saturdays, because I made sure to actually finish the fic before I started posting it, to ensure I didn't consign it to WIP hell like my other WIPs. XD

Wow, this is going to be a lot of explaining, but here we go! First off, if you haven't read Strikethrough, Crossroads, and the Damaged Goods summaries for the rest of the fics that I haven't written in between Crossroads and this one, go do that first. There's also a one-shot called Stalling that's set a month or two before this fic, but it's not necessary reading to get what's going on here.

This fic contains suicidal ideation, suicidal distress, and a depiction of Remi at rock bottom. If you're in a bad place, it might be better if you don't read this right now. (And I hope you feel less terrible soon.)

Remi is a lot different from the Remi in Crossroads. She's got pretty much all of her memories from her Jane years back now, and is a little bit softer and less sweary, until she's provoked, and then she reverts to 'fuck you' mode. Much like Jane's 4x15/4x16 self in canon, she's overwhelmed by the weight of her past mistakes, as Remi and as Jane. She's definitely not on the 'yay, law enforcement' train, and is still mostly ACAB in nature, but she knows that at least Kurt and his team are well-intentioned, and their eyes are open to the corruption within the system (mainly because of the first set of tattoos). By this point in my timeline, she also has accepted the fact that she's in love with Kurt, but she'd die before she'd ever admit it to him.

Jane is referred to as a third person throughout this fic, because neither Remi nor Kurt are at the 'Jane and Remi are just two time periods sans memories for one person' stage of acceptance. Also because it's easier for me, as a writer, to differentiate between those different time periods and mindsets by just using the names she was going by at the time. I do think that in another year down the Damaged Goods timeline, both Remi and Kurt will stop referring to Jane as a separate entity, but Remi kind of needs it right now, and though Kurt is further down the line as seeing Jane as a part of Remi, he's still getting there too. So things might seem a little bit disassociative identity disordery, and I apologise to anyone who might stumble upon this who actually lives with DID and hates what I did with this. But Remi is compartmentalising a LOT, though interestingly enough, now she's seeing Jane as the better person, whereas before, she loathed Jane with the fire of a thousand suns. The difference a few memories can make...

This fic is complete, so I'll post updates on Saturdays, I guess. This is my first time actually finishing a multi-chaptered fic before starting to post, but I really didn't want to start posting another WIP that was going to hang around in limbo (I'm sorry, Remember to Forgive and Taken for Granted fans! I will get there, I hope!).

Lastly, I really have to thank nachosandcheeze for her enthusiasm for this AU, and her encouragement for me to keep writing for it. She's not the only one who's been lovely about it (and thank you to everyone who cares about my weird little enemies to lovers universe where Jane never quite made it back to her brain - really, you guys are fantastic!), but she's been pretty consistently poking me with metaphorical sticks, and making Remi gifsets, and squeeing over Reller, etc. - to the point where I showed her the half-scene I had written from a fic several fics away from where I'd left off with Crossroads, just to get it out of my brain. And she loved it so much that I wrote a bit more, and a bit more, until over 16k later, I ended up with this. So thank you again, nachos. You're proof that nagging a fic author for more story does actually work, sometimes! :D

*

Absently tracing the carving on the stone with her finger, Remi glanced over to the small vial of clear liquid on her nightstand. It sat on top of a small, leatherbound booklet—El Libro de la Eternidad—which she’d smuggled out of Peru, along with the stone brick from Machu Picchu. Maybe she should feel guilty that she’d stolen a couple of pieces of Peruvian history from its citizens, even if one of them was a loose brick, but after all the things she’d done in her short fuck-up of a life, her conscience was way past that. And the brick contained a carved message for her: RB 4 RB, Roman Briggs for Remi Briggs, along with binary code that pointed to Roman’s data caches, and a message that had made tears sting her eyes.

Hey, sis.

I got you something. I never solved this one.

 I hope you can. I did my best.

May you outlive this… for both of us.

Your brother, always,

Roman

Even during his bitter feud with Jane—Remi still flinched to think of him ZIPped and claustrophobic in his FBI cell, even though she now remembered Jane’s reasons, and her anguish at her brother’s state—Roman had still been looking for a cure for her. He’d had his own, the one she’d stolen from Dr. Roga and used to cure herself—after all, Roman had died before he’d had the chance to benefit from it. But still, he’d hunted down more Stanton cells, which meant that now, Remi had a cure for ZIP poisoning all lined up.

She had everything she needed. If Roman’s cache intel was right, New York billionaire hypochondriac Ken Lee would trade El Libro de la Eternidad for the Stanton cells. Dr. Roga could synthesise a new cure, if Kurt approached her. And Remi would need that cure, because the ZIP on the nightstand would be going into her body, as soon as she laid the plan out for Kurt.

There was just one more thing left to do.

Setting aside Roman’s carving, she accessed the video recording setting on her phone, and held it up so that her face was visible. She’d made a video for her future self once before, to further Phase One of her grand plan by introducing Jane to Oscar, and verifying his trustworthiness.

And you know how that turned out, her internal critic whispered.

Swallowing hard, Remi made herself focus on the task at hand, ignoring the guilt gnawing on the synapses at the back of her mind. How was she going to start this thing? Saying hello seemed redundant.

“I know you’re suffering right now, and I’m sorry for that. You don’t remember your old life, and that’s intentional. Please, trust me when I say you shouldn’t go hunting for the finer details. I’m sparing you a lifetime of pain and futility by taking the ZIP, even though you might not be able to appreciate that.”

She sounded whiny as hell, but how else could she put it? She had to make future Jane understand that this was for the best.

“The only options, as I see them, are suicide or ZIP. I’ve got enough here that I should be able to wipe out any trace of my old memories. You might get a few flashes, but I hope you don’t. You don’t need to go through this again.”

If you weren’t such a coward, you’d just put a shotgun barrel in your mouth and pull the trigger. Maybe Jane would think she was cowardly. But she wasn’t afraid to die. She just didn’t want Kurt to have to suffer, knowing his wife was dead along with Remi.

“I’m doing this, instead of killing myself, because you have good people around you, people I’ve already hurt enough, and don’t want to hurt any more by making them lose you. You have loyal friends. A husband who loves you very much. Things will be hard for you at first, but you’ll build a life again, like you did before. And this time, you’ll know who did this to you, and why, and you won’t have me telling you to disregard your instincts and undermine the people you care about. I was misled, and betrayed, but I made bad choices, too. I was too stubborn to see it for so long, but the first time we were ZIPped, Jane found happiness, and a new purpose, and even though I still don’t think law enforcement is the shining star of morality… If you’re working with Kurt and his team, you’ll be working towards good things. Hold onto that.”

She took a breath, picking up the ancient Peruvian brick again.

“The one thing I want to tell you about is my—our—brother, Roman. Or Ian. That was his birth name, just like yours was Alice. Ian Kruger. Later, Roman Briggs. He wasn’t perfect, as I’m sure Kurt will tell you. But he was a follower his whole life, not a leader. He followed me, and our adopted mother, because he loved us, and didn’t want to be rejected. Jane hurt him too much, and he turned on her, and on Kurt, but deep down, he was a good man. He just wanted a loving family, to belong somewhere.”

She held the brick up in the camera’s sight. “I want you to keep this. Take care of it. This points to his last message from him to me, on his data caches. To Remi, I mean. Not the old version of Jane.” How did things get so confusing? “I have the actual message saved on my phone, so you should be able to see the message itself there. As for the brick, I took it from Peru, along with something to bargain with for a cure for your ZIP poisoning. Roman was looking for a cure for me, even while he knew I—the old Jane—was working to bring him down. He just wanted his sister back, I guess.”

If she kept this up for much longer, she was going to get too damn emotional, and there was no way she was willing to break down and cry on video. She had to cut this short. “Roman and I went through hell together, and that’s one of the things I don’t want you to remember anything about, so I won’t go into it. But we survived our childhood by relying on each other, and then our teenage years were the same, in a different way. We used to pass a South African rand coin our parents gave us back and forth, giving it to each other as a gift. It wasn’t worth much back then—and it’d buy even less now—but its symbolic value for us was priceless. For Roman, it was a comfort object. Jane buried him with it, so I don’t have it now, but I wanted you to know about it.”

She dug her fingernails into her palm, a technique she’d first used at the orphanage to keep outwardly calm, while a torrent of emotions churned within her. The pain centred her, making the grief easier to bear.

“Things went so wrong, but I never stopped loving Roman, even as Jane. And he never stopped loving me.”

She sighed, knowing she should say more, should give Jane more closure, but knowing she’d never be able to get through it on camera. Maybe she’d write Jane a letter, before Kurt ZIPped her.

“I hope you can build a life again, and find happiness. You sure as hell couldn’t do worse than I did. Please, look forward, not back. There’s nothing here but pain. Good luck.”

She threw down the phone and buried her face in her hands, breathing deeply, striving for the numbness that could get her through the final days of this life. Soon she’d fly to New York, and wipe the slate clean.

The end of my memories can’t come soon enough. I can’t do this anymore.

*

Three days later…

Kurt stared from the vial and hypodermic needle to his wife, a rapidly growing pit in his stomach. What…is happening here? What the hell, Remi?

“It’s okay,” she said, shrugging as though this was a foregone conclusion, a logical end to everything they’d battled through on their way to this moment. “I’ve made my peace with it. There’s nothing left here for me now. This is Jane’s world, and I don’t belong in it. At least…at least this way, you can get her back. Or as close to it as it’s possible to get.”

“It’s okay?” he finally managed to say, his throat choked with an intense mass of emotions that he couldn’t even begin to analyse right now. “Your identity is what makes you you, Remi. You’ve fought to defend it so damn hard, it nearly drove us apart for good. You’ve spent over a year getting so many of your memories back, and now you want a clean slate again? I know you remember how hard it was for you after Times Square, and after Cape Town.”

She wrapped her arms around herself, still not meeting his eyes. “The first time, you didn’t know who Jane was. Nobody knew. This time, everyone will. And she’ll have you, and your friends. It’s…easier that way. Even though I hated you when I found out what had happened to Sandstorm, at least I had…” She shook her head. “Anyway—Jane will adjust quickly. You can get the woman you married back, as she was.”

The words shook him, in so many different ways. He rubbed a hand over his face, floundering to make sense of everything.

To get his Jane back…it was everything he’d dreamed of for so long. During those ten months that Remi had gone off the radar, he’d been desperate to find a way to bring Jane back to the forefront of her mind. Aside from Bethany and work, it had been all he’d thought about, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel a spark of hope for that outcome now.

But it was all wrong. It was a fairytale. Jane had been a product of the situation she’d been in, from the bag in Times Square to not knowing who she was, to thinking she was Taylor Shaw and then discovering she wasn’t, to being tortured by the CIA—and then discovering she used to be Remi Briggs, daughter of the leader of a terrorist organisation. She’d become who she was because of the way things had been back then, the way her new life had unfolded, and there was no way to know how much of that would be replicated in a newly ZIPped Remi.

Remi. God… I… He swallowed hard, something akin to grief seeping into his bones.

“What about you? This is like…like mental suicide for a huge part of you. You really want to kill yourself that badly? Why not shoot yourself in the head? Jump off a building? Overdose on pills?” His voice was harsher than he meant it to come out—demanding, angry.

Terrified. He was goddamn terrified.

Remi flinched at his tone, finally looking into his eyes. “Because you don’t want to live without her. And if I did one of those things, you’d have to face that she’d never come back.”

He rose from the couch abruptly, the twister of conflicted emotions within him too much to handle if he stayed still. Tears filled his eyes as he stalked over to the kitchen, and he rested his palms on the worktop, his back to Remi, as he tried to breathe.

“So you really want to die?” he managed to ask.

“There’s nothing left for me. My mother, my brother, my friends, my cause, my convictions… Everything is gone, Weller. There’s no point in trying to rebuild. I’ve spent the past year not knowing what to do with myself, fucking things up…”

He turned on her, snarling, “There’s nothing left for you? Then what the hell am I? Why do you keep coming back? After everything that’s happened, you don’t care enough to stick around?”

She got to her feet, crossed the room, her eyes sad. “The only thing I care about in this life is you, and I hurt you constantly, just by not being Jane. This way, it kills two birds with one stone. My empty life goes away, and you get Jane back. You get to be happy, and I get to…forget.”

A tear slid down his cheek, and he dashed it away impatiently. “Remi…”

She reached up to brush another tear from the corner of his eye, her fingers gentle. “I don’t want either of us to hurt anymore. We’ve suffered enough.”

Staring down at her, he finally put names to the emotions within him. Fear and pain had been easy to identify on their own, but they were joined by a surge of something else, so strong and fierce and breathtakingly real that he could hardly bear it.

Remi… Fuck, I can’t lose you. I need you.

I love you.

Despite everything she’d done to him, all the mental torment she’d put him through, the bitter arguments they’d had, the misunderstandings and deceit that had shredded their trust in each other…he’d fallen for the whole of her, just as hard as he had for the Jane part of her. Remi was Jane, intensified. She’d called herself damaged goods, and he couldn’t disagree, but so was he. Remi understood him in a way Jane never could have on her own.

And he was suddenly, powerfully certain that she loved him just as much.

Unable to control himself, he pulled her into his arms, giving her a crushing kiss that seemed to shock the breath from her, even as she returned it just as ardently. Part of him wanted to reject this whole conversation, carry her to bed, fuck her until they were both too exhausted to do anything but fall asleep in each other’s arms.

But this was too serious to hide from, even temporarily. He had to make his position clear.

Wrenching away from her, he stalked over to the table, picked up the small bottle of ZIP and brought it to the kitchen sink. Unscrewing the lid, he poured the contents down the drain, then dropped the bottle and turned to Remi, who was staring at him as though he’d gone mad.

“What the hell?” she demanded.

“Listen to me,” he told her, his eyes locked on hers. “I will never use that stuff on you. Ever. It doesn’t matter to me that there’s a cure for ZIP poisoning all lined up. There’s no going back for us. I can’t just inject you and turn you back into the Jane you used to be. It wouldn’t work like that.”

She sighed, looking down at the splashes of ZIP remaining in the sink. “Better the devil you know than the angel you don’t?”

He cupped her face in both hands, making sure she couldn’t look away from his face. “You’re my devil, and my angel, and everything in between. Remi, the thought of losing you scares the hell out of me. You’re my wife, and you may not be the way you were when we got married, but you’re still the woman I fell in love with, deep down.”

She was frowning, shaking her head, and he rested his forehead against hers, closing his eyes as she drew in a shaky breath.

“I love you, just as much as I did when you were Jane. You didn’t make it easy to get to know you, but every time you let me in a little more, I fell for you even further. I need you to stay you.”

“What?” She breathed the word, and he opened his eyes to find her visibly trembling. Her expression was a study in contradictions. Fear. Hope. Anger. Longing.

Kurt smiled sadly. “It’s too late. I already know you love me, too.”

She tore herself out of his arms, stepped out of his reach. “Stop it. This has gone far enough, Weller.”

“No. It hasn’t gone anywhere near far enough. You’re so scared of making yourself vulnerable, of being hurt again, that you’re hurting yourself so that I’ll never have that power over you.” He took a step closer, and she backed into the living room immediately.

He’d once mentally compared her to a trapped animal, defensively clawing and snarling out of fear. He saw that same distress in her now, and ached to hold her, even though it would only make the situation worse.

“I thought we were over this,” she said, her voice brittle. “I’m not Jane.”

“No, you’re not Jane. You’re Remi. I see you, the whole of you. I know exactly who you are, and I love you.”

She eyed the apartment door, her fists bunched at her sides and her jaw set.

“Don’t run from this. Please.” He took another slow, careful step, and though she backed up again, her eyes were on him once more.

“You never took off your wedding ring, even when you were telling me you hated me. You’ve opened up to me more than once. You’ve trusted me to keep you safe, and you’ve forgiven me for mistakes I’ve made, and I’ve done the same for you.”

She pulled at the ring on her finger, trying to remove it. “You can believe what you want to believe, but it’s not true. It was just about sex and anger, and then we became friends with benefits. That’s it.”

He caught hold of her left hand and held it between his, before she could take off the wedding band. “You didn’t even want to admit you wanted me, back when we first realised we still needed each other. Even when you were halfway to coming. Is it gonna be the same now?”

She snorted, but didn’t try to yank her hand free from his. “What, you think you’re gonna fuck a confession of love out of me? It’s not the same thing, Weller.”

“Is that what it’s gonna take?” He couldn’t pretend he was surprised. They’d resolved so many of their other issues through arguing their way into sex. Why would this be any different?

Her jaw trembled before she firmed it, glaring at him. “No, because it won’t work. It’s not true.”

With anyone else, he’d take that as their final answer. A rejection that he’d have to accept and move on from. But with Remi, things had never been straightforward and simple.

She tested him at every turn, refusing to take anything he said at face value, and this thing with the ZIP was likely a part of it. He wanted to believe that was all it was—a manipulation, a shock tactic designed to scare him into laying all his cards on the table—but his gut told him otherwise.

She would never have risked him saying yes to her offer to ‘become Jane again’ if she hadn’t been prepared to accept the consequences. She was too proud to back down from something she’d said she’d do. And that meant that she really was at a desperate end point, unable to find a way to move forward from the ruins they’d left of her pre-ZIP life.

Kurt needed her to see that he could help her find the path, if she’d only trust herself to walk it. But first, she had to know he wasn’t going anywhere, that he wasn’t just settling for a doppelgänger until he decided to stop clinging to Jane’s memory.

And they both had to be clear where they stood with each other.

“Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t love me.”

Remi stared at him, for a moment seeming completely taken aback. Then her protective bravado and anger kicked in. “You say ‘jump’, I say ‘how high’? No!”

Even as he understood her reasons for refusing—knew she was just trying to protect herself—her words still stung.

“I love you, Remi.” He shrugged, standing straighter as he laid out his challenge. “If you don’t feel the same way, I need to know. So come on—break my heart.”

God, this is going to hurt.

He believed that she loved him. But whether she’d ever admit it to herself, let alone to him, was another story entirely.

[onlyathief]

@nightfaith

it ain't on account of the cheap shots of well whiskey burning through him like a firestorm. granted, that nasty shit did a number on the most well worn drunks, but remy burned through liquor much like he did anything he imbibed. it was just a thing his body did, all part of that machine of the mutant gene expressin' it's self in his blood an' bones.

(why did anyone think he could eat the way he did an' keep abs like this?)

it also ain't got nothin' t'do with bein' desperate, though desperation comes in waves all the same but how could anyone not feel it if they were bein' felt up by someone like kurt wagner? the mother fucker was handsome, oozed charm in waves like a high tide and oh, remy ain't the only one that felt themselves overcome by that riptide.

and kurt doesn't even have a monopoly on that sorta thing neither. the amount of fellas and filles that drive remy t'howlin' is beyond countin' on fingers an' toes. he just knows how to control himself, even if he does lay it on thick for the sake of pullin' a few groans and grins.

honestly it's just... it's been shit lately. things are always tough when you be a mutant, but lately it's been a new kinda hell and they only just gained some reprieve, some conclusion to another long ass battle for their right to even fuckin' exist. they lost good folks, gained some new ones, and most of them were doin' the opposite of what these boys were doin' and found themselves curling up in a place quiet and calm.

remy can't do that. he's still too hyped up, too ready to scrap, and if he ain't supposed t'be doin' that then he's gonna fuck, just how it is.

and god damn if it's kurt, sure, he might be a little surprised, but mostly he's eager. it might come back and bite them both in the ass later but for right now it's the perfect sin.

and this club, ran by their kind, playin' the finest remixes of lila's hits, is the perfect place to have it play out. the floor is packed tight, it's impossible to not grind up on someone an' remy ain't too interested in the girls behind him or st. john catchin' his eye across the way.

nah, the second kurt decides 'fuck it, we can just dance together, ja?'... y'can stick a fork in remy, he is done, r e a d y to be devoured.

and then kurt does that thing with his hips, that perfect little arch and liquid lithe movement courtesy of bones that give just a lil more than most, and the motion drags kurt's backside against remy's pelvis and god, god, god, he's startin' to ache.

his hands want to grasp and pull but he plays it cool, movements slow and exploritory until kurt ducks down and somehow the lil devil gets his teeth around a card hidden in remy's pocket. his heart is louder than the bass beat of dazzler's latest club mix and his blood is rushin' to the painful arousal strainin' against his slacks.

then kurt has the audacity to drag his ass against him again... mon dieu..

remy's hands are possessive now, one sliding over exposed, velveteen belly, the other coming up to curl at the base of the man's throat, to force his head to tilt back further against remy's shoulder.

"you be careful what you ask for, hm? you this bossy with all your dancin' partners, blue?" his teeth graze the shell of that dagger-point ear as he purrs, "tell me what else y'want remy t'do."

[antisocialmastermind]

The Collector

a klaine-word-scramble fic

Day 1 S B E R A U D = earbuds, daubers

Kurt pulls out his earbuds when he feels Elliott rest a warm hand on his shoulder. He’d been lost in his daydreams while Elliott put the finishing touches on his latest canvas, a blue and yellow impressionist-style work that Kurt honestly kind of loves.

“I think I’m good,” Elliot says into his ear, and Kurt resists the urge to unfurl from his chair and lick at the smudge of cobalt in the corner of Elliott’s mouth.

“Can I see?” Kurt stretches his stiff shoulders and walks toward his roommate’s easel. “Oh god, Elliott,” he almost whispers as his eyes fall on the canvas. “The color work is just spectacular.”

Elliott tosses his brush into the nearby can and draws his eyes appraisingly over his work. “Thanks,” he says mindlessly. “A little ‘blue period’ going on there, I guess. But I think I’m happy with it. Helps to have such a gorgeous model. Thanks.” He scoops up his brushes and palette and heads for the utility sink in the basement several floors below.

Alone in the apartment, Kurt rolls his shoulders again and flops onto the sofa with a groan. His cheeks feel hot – a result of his roommate’s casual compliment – and he grimaces at his own stupidity. Eight months he’s lived with Elliott. He’s been besotted with him the entire time.

Kurt and Elliott had met as graduating seniors at The Cooper Union School of Art. Their respective final presentations had been mounted next to each other at the gallery; Elliott’s paintings and charcoal sketches a striking contrast to Kurt’s mixed media and fabric collage. Kurt had taken one look at Elliott Gilbert and nearly swallowed his own tongue. 

They had spent the evening sipping champagne and chatting about their work and their futures,  laughing that in four years of school, their paths had never crossed. They’d discovered a surprising number of commonalities, from music to fashion to their midwestern upbringings and coming out experiences. Emboldened by champagne, Kurt had flirted quietly, pink-cheeked and giggling, until Elliott grinned and knocked their shoulders together and waxed poetic about his boyfriend.

Now, eight months later, Elliott is finally single and still hot, and Kurt remains utterly smitten with his roommate and best friend. He’s sure that if Elliott could just see him that way, they could be something really incredible together. But first Elliott had been nursing a broken heart and then he’d been busy rebounding all over New York and now that he seems to have settled into a comfortable single life, Kurt isn't sure how to push their relationship over the cliff and into falling territory.

He thinks that maybe modeling for Elliott has been a mistake, although he’s proud of the job he’s done as both a model and a muse. Elliott has so many pieces now – in various styles and media. And they’re good, even if Kurt does say so himself. Elliott’s talent is just one of the things that Kurt finds so attractive about him. Along with his shoulders and his kindness and his eyes and his sense of humor and his ass…

It’s just that spending so much time under the microscope of Elliott’s artistic vision hasn’t seemed to help Elliott see what’s right in front of him. Ironically. Sighing, Kurt rises from the couch and heads for the bathroom. He has a shift tonight, and he still needs to dump that tub of dyeing fabric and take a shower.

****

Elliott and Kurt spend a lot of time imagining what their lives will be like when they are both able to make their living with their art. For the time being, Elliott DJs at a couple of clubs and fronts a cover band while Kurt waits tables and waits to be discovered and waits for Elliott to wake up. They get by, and do well enough to splurge on a good night out once in a while. But neither of them will be getting rich any time soon. Which is why Kurt’s surprised when Elliott tells him that he’s going to open a gallery.

“Wait, what?” is his brilliant reply. 

Elliott laughs. “I have a tiny inheritance from my dad’s Aunt. She was a painter, too. I think this is what I wanna do with it. I saw a great little space for rent today. It’s close to Washington Square Park and The Gray. I think we could do this, Kurt.”

“We?” Kurt says. He’s clearly in top conversational form.

“Well, of course,” Elliott laughs again. “I can’t have an entire gallery of paintings of you, Hummel, pretty as you are.” 

Kurt blushes and ducks his head and dares to hope a little.

“I have an appointment to see it tomorrow. Wanna come?”

“Definitely,” Kurt replies. He smiles at Elliott. “This calls for celebration. Wine?”

“Nah,” Elliott grins. “Let’s go out. I’ll call Justin and Michael. You call Chandler. Tell him to meet us at The Up and Up.”

Kurt whoops and runs for his phone.

Chapter 2 On Ao3

[cyarskaren52]

The Notorious B.I.G. may have had a relatively brief career, but that has never obscured the fact that the Brooklyn emcee is one of the greatest to ever pick up a pen. You can't quibble about the brevity of a legend's catalog when the body of work is as uniformly strong as Biggie's. No, quite the opposite: it should bring the greatness into sharp relief.

So much of the legacy of Biggie Smalls spans two official studio albums over the course of two-and-a-half years, and in that regard, Biggie is like a Jimi Hendrix or Kurt Cobain. Neither of those rock legends had long careers, but the impact of their art was/is seismic. Biggie's brilliant lyricism is on full display across Ready To Die and Life After Death, a rapper capable of painting pictures with his words; blessed with a gift for the descriptive, as well as a macabre sense of humor that was always unique. 

It's been decades since we lost Biggie, but his body of work is always here to remind us of his gifts. We had to pick the 25 Dopest Songs from The Notorious B.I.G. And it wasn't easy. 

#26

"THIS TIME AROUND" MICHAEL JACKSON FEAT. THE NOTORIOUS B.I.G. [BONUS SONG]

Our BONUS SONG pick is a celebrated classic guest spot! MJ goes off on his haters with a Hip-Hop legend riding shotgun. Even the King Of Pop was a fan of Chris Wallace. 

#25

"TEN CRACK COMMANDMENTS"

Biggie Smalls breaks down the dope game with ten simple rules on this classic Preemo track that infamously flips Chuck D's plea for economic empowerment into a cocaine manifesto. Irony, thy name is Christopher. 

#24

"MY DOWNFALL" FEAT. D.M.C.

The King Of Rock reinterpolates a classic line from "Here We Go" as the hook for this B.I.G. anthem. Over an urgent backdrop, Biggie's paranoia is raised to a fever pitch. Puff plays instigator. 

#23

"MACHINE GUN FUNK"

Arguably the most underrated song on "Ready To Die," Biggie gets to lean into his lyrical bonafides on one of his debut album's best slices of boom bap. 

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#22

"PARTY & BULLSHIT"

The song that started everything. Biggie's flow and voice were so unique and his lyrical delivery was the perfect instrument for his wit and skill. A star from Day One. 

#21

"LONG KISS GOODNIGHT"

A RZA beat and a reference to the woefully underrated Geena Davis/Sam Jackson flick form the foundation for one of Biggie's most darkly murderous revenge fantasies. 

#20

"ME AND MY BITCH" (COMPUTER LOVE REMIX)

The "Ready To Die" original is more famous, but those who know remember this stellar remix from "The Show" original motion picture soundtrack. 

#19

"SOMEBODY GOTTA DIE"

The dark story of vengeance gone awry, this standout from "Life After Death" served notice, early on in that album's tracklisting, that Chris Wallace was stepping his game up. 

#18

"NIGGAS BLEED"

Another macabre slice of Hitchcockian storytelling; this time the rap Frank White dictates a narrative about robbery, murder and mayhem. One of his absolute best. And absolute darkest. 

#17

"THE WHAT" FEAT. METHOD MAN

Two legends who were just becoming household names in 1994, the Brooklyn icon and his Wu-affiliated compadre bring out the best in each other here. 

#16

"NOTORIOUS THUGS" FEAT. BONE THUGS-N-HARMONY

Another famed guest appearance in Biggie's catalog, Bone Thugs show up on this classic from "Life After Death" and influence the East Coast emcee to adopt a little Midwestern speed rap flavor. 

#15

"MO MONEY, MO PROBLEMS" FEAT. PUFF DADDY, MA$E AND FAITH EVANS

The video became a staple of the Shiny Suit Era, and unofficially furthered the Bad Boy image in the Puffy and Ma$e era, to the point where the fact that it's a Biggie song can sometimes feel obscured. But make no mistake: B.I.G. ROCKS this. 

#14

"WHAT'S BEEF"

From one of the sunniest tracks he ever released, to one of the darkest and most sinister. Over those dramatic strings, Biggie once again leans into his "rap Alfred Hitchcock" side, offering up a chilling ode to murder and vengeance with shock value to spare. 

#13

"SUICIDAL THOUGHTS" - NOTORIOUS B.I.G.

The album close from "Ready To Die" is Biggie at his most chilling. The song is driven by Biggie's broken rant to his friend Puff, grimly echoing the title track's themes of alienation and despair. 

#12

"SKY'S THE LIMIT" FEAT. 112

One of Biggie's greatest gifts is how he could contrast the darkness with the light; and this effervescent single was B.I.G. at his most upbeat, reveling in how good things can get. 

#11

"GIMME THE LOOT"

Biggie adopts the persona of two BK stickup kids on this classic from "Ready To Die."

#10

"HYPNOTIZE" FEAT. PAM LONG

One of Biggie's most inescapable singles, it came to define the sound of 1997 Bad Boy Records. Proof positive that, for all the praise he gets, we sometimes underappreciate Biggie's gift for songcraft. 

#9

"WHO SHOT YA?"

The controversial B-side that served as a catalyst for Hip-Hop's most infamous and tragic feud, the song is an all-timer, even divorced from the drama that would come to define it. 

#8

"UNBELIEVABLE"

Over one of DJ Premier's dopest beats, Christopher Wallace flexes his lyrical muscle. 

#7

"I GOT A STORY TO TELL"

When B.I.G. is mentioned as one of the greatest storytellers of all time, this song is one that seems to always affirm his stature to doubters. Biggie at his funniest, most descriptive and absolute best. 

#6

"EVERYDAY STRUGGLE"

One of the best examples of Biggie's gifts as a storyteller, it's a master class in rhyming narrative. And B.I.G. introduces us to some of his classic characters, including Two-Techs and Alberta. 

#5

"KICK IN THE DOOR"

Over a flip of Screamin' Jay Hawkins, Biggie goes off. One of the best lyrical showcases on an album overstuffed with greatness, it's B.I.G. at his most nimble. 

#4

"ONE MORE CHANCE"

The popular remix to one of the standout tracks from "Ready To Die," it further cemented Biggie's playarific persona and the video is one of the era's most memorable. 

#3

"WARNING"

After establishing B.I.G.'s "Ready To Die" campaign with a pair of feel-good singles, the Brooklyn emcee's dark storytelling side came to the fore on this sinister hit. 

#2

"JUICY"

There are few opening bars in music as iconic as the couplet that kickstarts this uber-classic. Biggie announced himself to the mainstream with this rags-to-riches classic that sounds like the story of Hip-Hop itself. 

#1

"BIG POPPA"

It's one of the most definitive songs of the 1990s and so anthemic you could argue it's Christopher Wallace's theme song. The late Chucky Thompson laced The Notorious B.I.G. with one of the most recognizable tracks of all time.

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[kurtty-drabbles]

Spy vs Spy au

N/A: This may be just a one-shot, I just thought Ariel in the Victorian AU we created for The Doctor and the Monster would not give a single fuck.

@djinmer4 @dannybagpipesarecalling

London is a city made by the wealthiest men, therefore, your vision in the city will depend on how much money you have in your pocket, however, lately, even the richer men in London can´t say how beautiful their city is as a big problem emerge from the ground, the underground to be more exact.

"Sir Willow, please, I know your input in the situation, we all know, but we have no more option, Nightcrawler decimates all our attacks and defences, we are practically his servants at this point taking all his ridiculous exigences" A man with a thick moustache explained to his colleagues. The Crown has little power nowadays as Nightcrawler has the final say.

"But call her? This damn woman?" one of his colleagues with a regular thin moustache asked, "why not ask help from the Braddock?"

"Because they refuse to help us, several times, because of this line of thinking, you do know that Miss Braddock is a woman too as well Mrs Worthington  is a woman too, and really, by this point, if you have a bright idea, please say so" silence fills the room and the man continues "let´s call help from Ariel, gentleman this is our last hope" ____________________________________

Kurt Darkholme is not a man to care for the modern and revolutionary technology that the Stark´s industries are creating each day, yet, the man is not ignorant to not use the holo-watch when he has to leave his house to socialize(usually being dragged by his mother and sister) people can be tolerant (and sometimes fetishes) an azure man, however, the police and everyone eyes are looking for a certain azure man.

"Oh, chin up, Kurt" his mother replied noticing his son frown even more than usual "always so moody, you know, when you were a kid you were a picky eater, did you know that?"

"Yes, you told me this before, why we have to go to this party again?" Kurt Darkholme asked not getting the importance of such events is basically the same thing over and over.

"Because our British friends have brought an American Friend to speak, a man notorious for hating mutants, now, my good son will listen to the words as a proper gentleman and at night Nightcrawler will reply" Raven smiles a tad bit sinister as her disguise is now the face of an old lady from a respectable family.

Now Kurt Darkholme is smiling. Finally, something interesting to do.

"By the way, son, have you ever thought about what we told you?" Raven replied as nonchalant as possible.

"I´m a widow for too long and I need to find someone? Yes, you and Anne Marie aren´t subtle in this regards...Look, I appreciate the help and the intention, but, I´m not sure if I should meddle with someone" Kurt Darkholme then replied "I may be more than the person is chewing" and smiles.

"You make one shark eat Blob and suddenly Shark´s jokes are all you can do?"

"Pretty much" _________________________________ A woman wearing a blue dress walks in the party, an outsider for sure("look at her dress? so obnoxious") and is not doing a good job in mix with the crown as many women are giving her a heated glare as the woman has no shame in talking openly with men, especially men with such higher positions and titles.

"I take your trip was safer, Miss Pryde," one of the thick moustaches in the group of men asked the question doing a fine job to ignore the glares of the other women.

"It´s was alright, now, as the payment, is everything as I asked for ready?" Kitty Pryde asked straight to the point, some of the men mutter how this is a big mistake but the others ignore.

"Yes, Miss Pryde, tomorrow it will be official that all schools and colleges have to accept boys and girls from any race, background and age" the man replied uneasily.

"Really?" she asked crossing her arms.

"Well, ok, the bill will only work after a week, but Miss Pryde" the man tries again and Kitty gave a strong glare.

"My price is very simple, or all the kids have the chance to study or nothing will change" a man is fed up by this charade.

"This is ridiculous, you´re taking demands of a capricious child. How to know if she is able to fight Nightcrawler?" the man feels smart for a brief moment until the woman´s eyes are on him.

"You don´t, but, at this point, I can´t fail more than you all did" she did silencing the others then holding her neck for a moment the woman let go her breath "then, after a week we talk again, bye gentlemen" and leave them to be with their inner thoughts and fear.

"We made a mistake"

"At this point, is better make a mistake than doing nothing" ___________________________________________ Kitty Pryde is still doing a poor job to mix in the crown, when a man, the star guest, a man that only speaking nonsense. Kitty rolls her eyes and decides to chat with one of the people in the party(liveless as it appears)

A man with a fancy hat ignores Kitty and is outrageous that a foreign woman, with no title, is trying to speak with him, the man has a title and this time attention is not appropriate in a party in such fashion.

"Lady, how dare you to direct your voice to me?" the man angrily replied, this is not the place or time for such activities. Kitty has no idea what the man is insinuating when someone else is joining the conversation.

"Hallo, is everything alright?" a man with a thick German accent speaks directly to the woman.

"I don´t know, I was just trying to talk and the man acts as is an insult" Kitty is a bit confused and the German man smiles at that and returns his attention to the other.

"Mr Jones, for shame, a guest is engaging in a conversation and you shun her? " the man smiles evilly "that´s why you are disowned, such lack of manners" the man tsk 3 times and the other man, with his fancy hat, leave Kitty alone.

"Hey, I take you are familiar with this environmental?" Kitty asked impressed.

"And I take you are new here? People, in this party and many other social events, are stupid is all I can say that´s nice" Kitty chuckles at that and agrees. "Can I ask for your name or I need someone of higher status to introduce me?"

"No, I´m not that lazy, my name is Kurt Darkholme" the man speaks gracefully.

"My name is Kitty Pryde, I´m here to finish something that people are far too incompetent to do"

"Bold assumption" Kurt speak amused"what you came to do?"

"Make all children have a nice education" and Kitty winks at the man as both ignore the stares and the guest talking, well, Kurt certainly didn´t ignore the man, but, is better pay attention in the new welcomer than Ex-Senator Kelly(disgraced in his own country) ______________________________ Nightcrawler, as Mystique instructed, found the Ex-Senator Kelly in his room and have no problem in killing him with one blow, however, Nightcrawler with his scarlet eyes noticed someone is watching his moves.

"Yep, I've got a feeling you would go after him, Nightcrawler is a big and scary Mutant right´s ally, of course, he would go after Kelly" a feminine voice can be heard but Kurt is not seeing anything.

Kurt leaves the room and the dead body to see where the voice is and have the right mind to not reply, yet, as the voice is too familiar. Lo, behold, Kitty Pryde wearing a black uniform waves at the azure man.

"Hello?" she says cheerfully waving at him as she is above the ground. "Man, I thought I could have stalled this for more time, either way, I´m here to fight you" Kitty replied and Nightcrawler can´t help by a chuckle, finally something interesting is happening in his life.

Kurt fought Ariel as much he could, maybe, it´s a way to show off as a part of him tell him to teleport away, however, the man couldn´t do this as they begin to spar.

(It was while since Kurt spar with someone in such level)

His tail wrapped around her ankle and a victorious smile play on his lips, only to leave as quickly as possible as her ankle phase away from the tail easily and Kitty take the tail to bring the man closer.

"Careful with your tail, someone with less noble intentions may hurt it or your handsome face, now, Nightcrawler" she speaks looking into his scarlet eyes "be careful, ok? next time don´t go for the obvious trap" and let the azure man go as Kitty flies away.

____________________________________

"Who is she?" Raven asked this question far too much for Kurt´s liking and maybe Kurt is starting to realize his mother´s excitement is not due to a new challenge "A woman? you talked with a woman for more than 5 minutes? Rogue!"

His sister shows up with her uniform cover with a few drops of blood, busy night, says the older sister.

"Do you know any Kitty Pryde? Our Little Kurt may have a crush" Raven replied far too amused.

"Not a crush, is just curiosity" Kurt Darkholme replied.

"Oh, my god!" Rogue and Raven ignore the anti-God´s propaganda Kurt is talking "Well, I know she is living with the Summers, I think, Remy mentioned that Scott and Jean are housing a new mutant woman with a similar name, I will confirm, but, this is amazing, Kurt congratulation"

"NOT A CRUSH, I DON´T HAVE CRUSHES"

"The author disagrees" Wade pipes in and Kurt Darkholme is confused by that.

[amazonworrier]

Not sure if you are taking prompts but I saw your reblog so I am shooting my shot. Quinntana for kissing prompt 4 or 5 please :D

I am today! Trying to break out of a writing slump, so thank you for your help 😊 I don’t love number five for them so let’s go with four…

The wedding isn’t their first kiss.

It stands to reason that it wouldn’t be, given Quinn is easily one of the most attractive people Santana’s ever laid eyes on outside of her own reflection. If Santana were being totally honest with herself, she probably wouldn’t have minded if Quinn was her first real kiss. Period. But, you know, some lesbians take years to realise they aren’t straight, and with Quinn being a diehard Christian too, they were pretty much hanging out in opposite closets for a few years there. Besides, Brittany transferred to McKinley pretty early on in sophomore year and- Well, everyone knows that side of the story. She doesn’t have any regrets.

So, they don’t kiss at any parties in freshman year because Quinn’s too religious to drink and too straight to experiment sober. Then sophomore year Quinn stops partying altogether because she gets pregnant - also a very straight move. Junior year she knifes Santana in the back on day one, so even if Santana weren’t totally hung up on Brittany by then, the odds of getting her mack on with Quinn were decidedly low. Maybe if she’d been single in senior year, and skank Quinn knew how to shower… but she wasn’t, and Quinn didn’t, so that was that. The bottom line is, they didn’t kiss in high school. No matter whether Santana thought about it or not.

But they do kiss before the wedding, and it’s all Rachel Berry’s fault.

See, they were supposed to just be in New York to shop. Kurt calling while they were there was a total coincidence, but both Quinn and Santana figured if they were ever gonna redeem themselves for years of tormenting Rachel, making a concerted effort to stop her from getting naked in front of some weirdo film geek’s camera would be a good start. And hey, if it didn’t work, at least they’d get a funny story out of it.

The problem is that absence really does make the heart grow fonder, and neither of them remember quite how f*cking annoying Rachel can be until they’re already halfway through dinner. It’s the longest three hours of Santana’s life.

“Was she always that exhausting?”

Quinn slumps down on the king bed in their hotel room, sighing into the pillow. It’s a lavish suite, paid for courtesy of Mrs Fabray and her neverending guilt over having kicked Quinn out that one time. Unfortunately, her guilt doesn’t quite stretch to covering two beds, but it sure as hell still beats some crappy old couch in Bushwick.

“Yes,” Santana tosses her jacket aside, heading straight for the mini bar, “You just couldn’t look past your Berry-boner long enough to see it.”

“That’s disgusting” Quinn rolls her eyes, reaching for the first drink Santana offers. “And completely untrue.”

“Sure it is.”

It’s not long at all before they’re both totally hammered, and it takes even less time for them to start reminiscing.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Quinn raises a finger to Santana’s lips, effectively shushing her. “Mike Chang? How did I not know this?!”

They’re sitting cross-legged on the bed, surrounded by countless empty cans and bottles. Quinn’s other hand has been resting idly on Santana’s thigh for a while now, but she hasn’t said anything. She’s not sure why.

“It’s no big deal,” Santana chuckles, pouring them both another glass of cheap red. “It was him or Puckerman. Mike’s lips looked softer.”

They are, of course, discussing their first kiss.

Quinn pauses, lips teasing the rim of her glass. “Mine was Tina.”

“Tina?” Santana chokes on her drink, “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“It was an accident,” Quinn shrugs.

And, in all her bewilderment over the when and the where, Santana only gets so far as to ask, “How do you kiss a girl by accid-” before she’s accidentally throwing what’s left of her wine all over them both.

“Shit,” she leans forward, rubbing frantically at the rapidly forming stain on Quinn’s new designer dress. That thing nearly cost her an organ.

“Stop,” Quinn catches her arm, “There’s no point.”

But Santana persists, swaying unsteadily as she works to remove the damage done with little more than her bare hands, and sheer force of will. She shakes Quinn off in a huff, “Sit still.”

So caught up in the mess is she, that Santana barely registers how close they are until she feels a puff of Quinn’s breath hit her cheek. It strikes Santana like a splash of cold water, and she falters in surprise, shuffling back on the bed into safer space.

The problem is that they really are drunk, and there’s nothing graceful about Santana’s movements whatsoever anymore. She stumbles back, only to have her ass land firmly on her empty glass of all places. It’s a comedy of errors that follows, Santana’s body flying all over the place in what can only be described as a dizzying blur, until she ultimately finds her mouth falling forward to land on Quinn’s waiting lips.

Seriously, it sounds ridiculous, but that’s exactly what happened.

“Ah,” Santana topples back again, heat rising to her cheeks. “Sorry, I-”

But Quinn doesn’t give her a chance to explain. She’s already lunging forward, hand closing around the back of Santana’s neck to reel her in, and connecting their lips once more in a searing kiss.

Perhaps in spite of herself- No, definitely in spite of herself, Santana is the first to pull back. Breathless, and gasping for air.

“So,” a wary smirk teases at the corner her lips, “That’s how you accidentally kiss a girl.”

Quinn’s eyes darken, voice thick, as she lifts a hand to trace the smug outline of Santana’s mouth with her thumb. “Who said this time was an accident?”

The wedding isn’t even close to their first kiss.

With any luck, it won’t be their last either.

[mermaidsirennikita]

Can you recommend enemies to lovers historical romances? I want them to genuinely despise each other. Thanks!

For sure! A classic trope.

--Once More, My Darling Rogue by Lorraine Heath. Just read this and super enjoyed it. It's based on the 80s Kurt Russell/Goldie Hawn movie Overboard, if you've seen that. She's a high class bitch, he was born in the gutter and taken in by a duke and duchess--she loathes him and he enjoys poking at her until he finds her nearly drowned, with no memory. Soooo naturally he tells her she's his housekeeper to teach her a lesson lmao. Wildly unethical, yet. Fabulous. TW: The heroine was sexually abused as a child, and this is discussed.

--Wicked in His Arms by Stacy Reid. Cold earl meets tempestuous young lady looking for a husband. He haaaaates her for getting under his skin, and she's provoked to being totally childish and petulant around him. Culminates in an unthinking closet hookup that forces them into a marriage of convenience.

--The Return of The Duke by Lorraine Heath. Hero's father lost the family dukedom after he was executed for conspiring against Queen Victoria, and the hero is out to clear his name... which means working with his father's mistress. Naturally, there is a lot of mutual hatred. TW: the heroine had a major health issue in the past which led to a hysterectomy.

--A Week to Be Wicked by Tessa Dare. Cocky hero/nerdy heroine, lots of resentment there before they go on a road trip together. Very romcom ETL.

--The Bride Goes Rogue by Joanna Shupe. The beef is reeeeal in this one because the heroine has been saving herself and waiting to marry the hero in an arranged marriage for a year before he reveals that he has zero intention of marrying her. She decides to fuck off and have an affair at a masquerade, and oops, who'd've thunk it, the hero is the guy in the mask playing d/s games with her. EXTREEEEEMELY hot.

--Married by Morning by Lisa Kleypas. This one benefits from reading the earlier books, imo, but still. The hero is a recovering alcoholic, very cocky and hiding his trauma with a smile, and the heroine is his sisters' bossy governess. It's very much a "pulling on her pigtails" ETL thing. TW: the hero was, I believe, sexually preyed upon in the past.

--It Happened One Autumn by Lisa Kleypas. Thee Classic ETL which Bridgerton s2 probably cribbed from let's be honest about a haughty, uptight lord who meets a wild American heiress he can't resist. Lots of legs. Lots of longing. "And you call me a savage" is said during sex. TW: it's an older book, and in the original versions of the book she is suuuuper drunk when they have sex the first time. This is edited out of earlier versions. Personally, I prefer the original version.

--Sweetest Scoundrel by Elizabeth Hoyt. Hero is a pleasure garden owner and the heroine is the uptight sister of his patron trying to shut him down. Much sniping and sexual tension and masturbating in carriages ensues. TW: heroine was sexually abused as a child and this is discussed.

--Duke of Midnight by Elizabeth Hoyt. I say this one gives me BatCat vibes, but Georgian. The hero is Georgian Batman in basically every way, and the heroine is the lady's companion of the woman he is courting--she has her own agenda and blackmails him, leading to a game of cat and mouse. Verrrrry hot.

--Notorious Pleasures by Elizabeth Hoyt. Heroine is a classy society girl, hero is her fiancé's no-good brother. They begin a sexual affair that becomes emotional over time.

--The Scot Beds His Wife by Kerrigan Byrne. Heroine is an American widow who takes the identity of an heiress, and the hero is the Scottish lord who wants the land she has supposedly inherited. Leads to a marriage of convenience with a lot of secrets. TW: heroine was physically abused by her first husband.

--Between the Devil and Desire by Lorraine Heath. Heroine is a duchess with a young son, hero is the lower class scoundrel who (for reasons neither of them understand) is selected in her husband's will as the guardian of the estate and her son. Leads to them living together even though she haaaates him. TW: hero was sexually abused as a child, this is discussed.

[sscrambledmeggss]

If Kurtbastian were going to be stranded together on a deserted island and could each only take three things, what do you think they'd bring?

AHH THANK YOU FOR THE ASK! :D

For Kurt, Kurt is a fairly reasonable character, and does usually think ahead of time, because of this, I think he would choose one of his items to be a first aid kit. But the problem is, that’s as far as his two brain cells would go, so his next two items would be Cheesecake and his skin care routine 🦧

I also think Kurt is probably flipping out during this time, and is panicking about sun exposure, and how to get home.

NOW SEBASTIAN, he is all about living in the moment, he will not think about the future. Unlike Kurt, sebastian isn’t reasonable. He is here stranded on a deserted island, and he WILL make it a fun vacation island get away.

He probably brought one bottle of Courvoisier (since he drinks it like mothers milk or something ???), crocs (just to spite Kurt. He definitely could’ve chosen a more useful item, but he loves seeing Kurt go, “😟” every time he sees them), he also brought sunglasses which seem useless at first, but they use it to start a fire later 🧌

Somehow neither of them were smart enough to bring clean water 😭😭

[slashingdisneypasta]

Ram Sweeney x Reader || Headcanons

Topic: Dating HC's

Notes:

*Sigh*... I write regularly write for creeps like Freddy Krueger and Offenderman... and am one of the few tumblrs that write for Sheriff Hoyt romantically... and yet Kurt and Ram are my real guilty pleasure characters.

Anyway I hope someone other then me wanted this XDD I'm gonna do a Kurt one too.

Warnings: Some NSFW but not explicit.

Your song: The Way I Loved You (Taylor Swift)

He respects my space and never makes me wait

And he calls exactly when he says he will

He's close to my mother, talks business with my father

He's charming and endearing and I'm comfortable

...

But I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain

And it's 2:00 a.m. and I'm cursing your name

So in love that you act insane

And that's the way I loved you

Breakin' down and coming undone

It's a roller coaster kinda rush

And I never knew I could feel that much

And that's the way I loved you

You two as a TV/Movie/Book couple: Bianca Piper and Wesley Rush (The DUFF)

Having the kind of relationship that no one else understands at all. Like, you have nothing in commen except commen history and your feelings for each other (Which are, on the other hand, totally clear to everyone) but when you're together you're always laughing and being affectionate.

Being in an on and off relationship throughout middle school and highschool- but never and I repeat; Never, is anyone permitted to mess with you at all. Because Ram always considers you his, even when you arent together.

So yeah, you always have 2 (Ram, and Kurt) large football star bodyguards at your disposal.

Being very playful together.

SOOOOoooooo much PDA. Including: Making out in the hallways and at school events like football games (You dont care who sees), sitting in his lap or at least squished close to his side at lunch, him throwing you over his shoulder to carry you places, him giving you piggy back rides, him picking you up and twirling you around, him just standing behind you with his arms around your waist and his chin rested on your shoulder when he's bored (With everything but you), his arm being over your shoulders as you walk together, you wiping peanut butter on his nose to get a rise out of him and then running away so he'll chase you, you peppering his face with kisses to make him laugh, etc.

Having a turbulent relationship. Because while, when all is well you two are like peanut butter and jelly and seem like the perfect highschool sweethearts, when you arent it's because Ram has gotten really jealous over something and called you a terrible name (Skank, whore, slut, bitch- any of those) or you understandably got irritated by his bullying and/or being a perverted, sexist asshole and you have huge, blow out fights in the middle of school and by the end of the period the whole student body knows about it.

You give him the silent treatment and the cold shoulder after those (If you didnt break up, that is) and he sends Kurt to give you messages.

When you make up its because he sincerely apologises although he doesn't 100% understand what he did wrong which becomes part of the next fight.

As you've been together so very long, he is basically part of your fucking family. He's so familiar and casual with your parent/s and/or sibling/s. They love him so much that, whether you're with him at the time or not, they allow him into the house and your bedroom with a cup of tea and snacks. (Its the 'American dream' popular-boy / football-star thing.)

So yeah, sometimes when you're mad at him or he wants to get back together (Which generally you want to do, to. You honestly have the same biological timer. Its like, 3 weeks pass by of being broken up and then ding ding ding! You both get the feelings its time to get back together and start sharing grins in the hallway and talking to your friends about eachother) you'll just find him waiting for you in your room when you come home.

Hanging out a looooooot with Kurt. Movie nights at your place, hanging out at the mall together on weekends sneaking out to see them at the football field at night time, etc. When you're sad, they'll both turn up wherever you are to cheer you up, too! Goofballs.

This does not mean there arent times where Ram shoo's Kurt off, though, when you two want some alone time together (*Eyebrow wiggles*) because of course. I'm just saying, you're a close-knit group.

When you are alone together, not much changes from when you're around others honestly XD You're still just as playful and affectionate. You just, you know, also have sex.

When he's down, you rusk your graceful image and climb through his bedroom window to be there with him. You dont fuck, you dont even really kiss. You just climb into bed with him and he'll tuck you under his chin and close his eyes. Legit old married couple. And you two sleep- by morning, he usually feels better and refuses to let you get out of bed with him.

"Five more minutessssss, babe!" He whines, holding you against him and pressing kisses to your head. You know he'll just say that again in 5 minutes time- and over, and over, and over again.

"Oh- no. I've been caught in this trap before Ram. We have school, so we have to get up. Come on!" You push firmly at his stomach (or abs) with your fists; not that that does much as he just just groans or gathers your little wrists in one big fist to stop you (Either way he certainly doesn't even flinch). His eyes are still closed. You sigh.

Now you have two choices, you can either give in and snuggle back into him for the rest of the morning, or threaten to send an attack towards his groin and he'll literally fling himself outta bed. Like "OH LOOK AT THE TIME- Kurt's gonna be waiting for us outside. Lets go!"

There are also mornings that you wake up with him (No sad Ram the night before necessary) and are all too happy to stay there with him. You just adorably nod into his chest, eyes still closed and making the cutest half-asleep morning sound when he asks if you wanna stay here a bit longer and he happily pulls the blanket over both your heads; shielding you both from the real world for a while.

OKAY MOVING ON FROM THAT FLUFFINESS.

You are also the only person who has any sort of control over him and Kurt. Like you can take them down a few pegs with just a look.

You two do date other people when you're broken up but its clear to anyone watching that these are just nice place holders for eachother. Neither of you are ever as happy with others as you are with eachother. You're ridiculously in love, actually.

Ypu were the first one to say I Love You, and he immediately called Kurt for guidance XD

Places you've had sex (Because it is always the full monty with Ram): Both your bedrooms so so so many times, the school bathrooms, his car, Kurts car (Kurt was NOT pleased.), the back of the football field, under the bleachers during a game or pep rally (he was benched for being too violent) + under the bleachers during practise + under the bleachers when the football field is deserted, the back of the school, the faculty parking lot at school, Kurts and Heather Chandler's houses (Parties. Basically a Westerburg High party is not complete without Y/N L/N and Ram Sweeney breaking in someones bed), his parent's car, the woods, cow pasture (a picnic blanket was used), and finally some mall changing rooms.

You leave him messages on his answering machine. He listens to every one of them (Which means something because he doesnt listen to anyone elses, unless he's gotta get through them to get to yours).

Him being SUCH a jealous asshole (With everyone except Kurt).

HIM STANDING UP TO THE HEATHERS FOR YOU.

#PromKingAndQueen

Having Kurt "Smartest guy on the football team," Kelly be your (Occasionally, live in- yes, he has slept over with the two of you on the floor so he could break up fights) couples councellor. Often his advice is 'fuck it out' but he also comes up with oddly wise shit sometimes. Mostly he's just very exasperated though. Like, its obvious you two are gonna end up together- stop bothering me with this shit. Let me get some pussy for myself guys please-

You two getting a bit frisky on movie nights with Kurt and he throws stuff at you. He just starts bringing a pool noodle (That he drew an angry face onto) along with him and hitting y'all with it whenever he feels its necessary. Cuz I mean, on one hand, of course he's happy for his bro Ram that he's getting his dick wet, but on the other- ITS FUCKIN MOVIE NIGHT, PULL YOURSELVES TOGETHER FOR T W O S E C O N D S (Oh the irony- it does indeed escape him). He'll park his ass right in the middle of you two if you keep it up.

If he had survived, you and Ram would have broken up after graduation and spent college apart, before bumping into each other again back home as new (Improved. Especially him) people that fit together better now and ended up getting back together for good.

[ninjago-bingo]

final month recap

wow, everyone.  we’re here.  we’ve made it.  we’re reached the end of our bingo time, and i’m absolutely floored by the sheer creative output that i’ve seen over these last four months.  everyone, take a moment to give yourself a pat on the back!!!  no matter if you made 1 piece or 10, there’s now a work of art out there in the world that wasn’t there before.  and truly, that’s super heccing rad no matter how you look at it.

so let’s celebrate!  for this recap, we have a total of 20 new pieces, bringing the total amount of ninbingo pieces up to 50.  in the span of four months, this little event has created 50 individual works (five of them in the last day!)  holy cow ya’ll.

i’m putting out this recap now, but don’t worry, it’s not the end yet!  any submissions made to the end of the 30th still count and this post will be updated accordingly :D

fic:

all the things i’ve never done by @sa-you-na-ra. tumblr || prompts: competition and teasing

It’s always a funny thing when the ninja realize new things about each other. Even though living with each other meant they had to see each other all day, there were still small habits or actions that amused the others.

(mod comments: all these little interactions made me smile so much :D looking forward to the rest!)

error 404: answer not found by @m-aster-of-spinjitzu. tumblr || prompt: memories

Akita and Zane talk after the battle in ‘Awakenings’. The conversation… doesn’t go as either of them expect.

(mod comments: the nuances in this fic are fantastic!  also Akita is always a win :D)

Five times kai was a good brother by @/master-of-fluff. tumblr || ao3 || prompts: nightmare and brother

I'm writing kai centric stuff again.

(mod comments: kai IS the big bro of the team!!! i support him all the way!!)

How Garmadon became a chauffeur by @master-of-fluff. tumblr || ao3 || prompt: driving

"um...Kai? Don't you think we should go Slower?" Garmadon asked nervously trying not to panick as they raced down the road at what had to be over the speed limit.

(mod comments: who let Kai drive?  no but honestly this is canon alskdfj)

little things by @/rosiehunterwolf. tumblr || ao3 || ffn.net || prompts: hugs and crying.

"Enjoy the little things in life, for one day you'll look back and realize they were the big things." -Kurt Vonnegut

Lloyd’s tired of being left behind. How is he meant to be the green ninja when he always has to work harder, train better, and wait longer to go on missions with his team? He wants nothing more than to be their equal.

At least, that’s what he thought he wanted.

(mod comments: a post-ep-18 resolution scene?  SIGN ME UP!)

Neither Snow Nor Rain by @fangirltakesall. tumblr || ffn.net || prompt: post-fight

After their return from the Never Realm and all its troubles, Zane is quiet and Nya is incredibly worried. A call to action to a peculiar sort of battle might be enough to change both of those things.

(mod comments: the concept of these two on their own mission together is just so good! excited to see how their dynamic plays out!!)

Never Put Off Until Tomorrow by @/rosiehunterwolf. tumblr || ao3 || ffn.net || prompts: video games and chores

…what can be done today, yada, yada, yada, we all know the saying. So do the ninja- when Master Wu is drilling it into their heads every minute of every day, it’s kind of hard to forget.

Naturally, it only takes them a week (and the biggest new video game in Ninjago) to do so.

(mod comments: this is so in character that it’s frustrating lol.  also Pixal ftw!!)

oh take me back to the start by @/rosiehunterwolf. tumblr || ao3 || ffn.net || prompts: comfort and 3 am

The past should be left in the past. Or, at least, that’s what Jay keeps telling himself. Nadakhan is gone. It’s not logical to still be afraid. But he is, and now everything that he left behind suddenly feels like it’s never going to be the same again.

Cole isn’t so convinced.

(mod comments: Cole is truly the man we all deserve in our lives.)

On Our Own by @redefine-your-identity. tumblr || prompt: home

It’s been a few weeks since Kai and Nya’s parents disappeared without a trace. Needless to say, they’re struggling.

(mod comments: OU C H no poor babies 😭 the relationship dynamic here is great!)

orange and gold by @/m-aster-of-spinjitzu. tumblr || prompt: cooking

...I just need more Cole and Vania content, they seem like they'd be great friends.

Basically it's just 'Cole goes to visit her there, they almost burn down the kitchen, and make way too many puns', lol.

(mod comments: I also always need more Vania content!! the puns in this were breadful!)

permafrost by @/rosiehunterwolf. tumblr || ao3 || ffn.net || prompts: loss of control and promise

It’s not like this is the first time this has happened. It’s not like none of his teammates have ever suffered this kind of guilt and pain. It’s not like Zane himself hasn’t walked through hell before and come out the other side (mostly) in once piece.

Except, this time, it is. It shouldn’t be different, but it is.

(mod comments: super sweet moment between two ninja who deserve more interaction like seriously!!)

Precautionary Tale by @/fangirltakesall. tumblr || ffn.net || prompt: protective

Fighting is different now, and Zane doesn't know why. Yes, he is titanium now, but why should that change anything? It seems to be changing everything, although is all really as it seems?

(mod comments: a great start to a zane-centric fic!  interested to see where it goes next :D)

Star-Ninja! by @rosiehunterwolf. tumblr || ao3 || ffn.net || prompts: siblings and competition 

What happens when the loveable gremlin the ninja adopted off of the streets introduces them to Starfarer comics?

Chaos ensues, of course.

stuck with you (through bright and blue) by @/rosiehunterwolf. tumblr || ao3 || ffn.net || prompt: protective

Kai only wants two things: to protect Lloyd, and to give him the best birthday ever. Unfortunately, Lloyd seems hell-bent on making that as difficult as possible. Kai’s always prided himself on achieving the impossible, but dealing with human emotions is much more complicated than beating up Garmadon’s generals or shooting enemies with fire, as he quickly learns. Movie!verse

(mod comments: happy birthday lloyd!! look at him getting the love he deserves uwu)

Take a walk in the rain. by @/master-of-fluff. tumblr || ao3 || prompt: rain

Cole had always loved the rain, the way it smelled, the way it felt on his skin, and especially the mud! Whenever it rained his Mother would put on his rain coat and boots And they'd both go out and splash around in the puddles and make mud cakes and do all sorts of things.

(mod comments: this fic made me smile a lot :D loved the way it was arranged!) 

the hues of an empty sky by @/m-aster-of-spinjitzu. tumblr || prompt: crying

Missing memories, or having two of them for one moment - not quite the same, but if there’s one thing Jay’s leant over the last few weeks, it’s that literally nothing makes sense anymore.

Or, some Skybound aftermath, Zane actually expressing emotions about his memory switch being turned off for all those years, and what was supposed to be a ‘they tell everyone about the erased timeline’ fic, but it turned into a 'two characters who barely interact on screen talk at like one am in the morning, and don’t actually tell the other what exactly they’re alluding to the whole time’ fic that I wrote at like one am-

(mod comments: Skybound resolution? SIGN ME THE HECK UP YES)

The Make-Cole-Realize-How-Much-We-Love-Him Competition by @21st-century-ninja. tumblr || ao3 || prompts: bets and competition

Jay and Kai share a horrified look.  “He really doesn’t get it,” Jay says.

Kai shakes his head.  “We need to show him somehow.”

“Show me what?” Cole asks, exasperated again.  

“How much we love you!” Kai exclaims.  “Somehow, it’s not getting through your thick skull that we want to sit next to you because you’re you, so I’m gonna have to just prove it to you.”

(mod comments: a silly little movie fic!)

twitter was a mistake by @/21st-century-ninja. tumblr || ao3 || prompts: teasing and birthday

Kai 🔥 @flaminhotninja ☑

so who was gonna tell me that Jay used to be a game show host huh

🌺✨ the Gift of Jay ✨🌺 @zaptrap ☑

Replying to @flaminhotninja

NO WHO SHOWED YOU

(mod comments: twitter was a mistake)

two halves of a broken whole by @/rosiehunterwolf. tumblr || ao3 || ffn.net || prompts: scars and post-fight

The Sons of Garmadon have been defeated. Garmadon is in prison. The city has been saved.

In the aftermath of the battle, Nya is more than ready to take a much-needed break. But the life of a ninja is messy. Recovery is never that simple. Although the wounds may have healed, the scars still remain.

Zane’s scars seem to match up, though. And maybe together, they can begin to heal.

(mod comments: aggressive care is my jam, and this is it!)

wait by @rosiehunterwolf. tumblr || ao3 || ffn.net || prompts: home and memories

Lloyd’s not so great at being patient. It’s not his fault though- maybe he would be better at it if waiting didn’t always end up being so disappointing- if people actually kept their promises. But this time’s going to be different, he knows it. His father will come back for him. And Lloyd’s going to wait.

As long as it takes.

(mod comments: baby.  baby boy.  baby.  protecc him plz.)

[mvnsons]

👫 for both boys

Send a 👫and I’ll write four headcanons I have about our muse’s relationship  

1.) the twins were the first people his age that eddie met when he moved to hawkins which lightened the burden on his shoulders. kurt was intimidating, just a little bit, it was in his demeanor, but sid bridged the gap between them. and they’ve been buds ever since. 2.) one time kurt and eddie were play wrestling, but eddie did not disclose his eds and kurt popped eddie’s hip out of place. eddie milked it for all it was worth until wayne showed up and wasnt too alarmed -- his joints popped out all the time. sure, it was uncomfortable, painful, even, but it wasn’t as bad as it would have been for someone with a typical body. that same weekend, sid and eddie crept around the nearest neighborhood to the trailer park trying to scare peope. sid made the sound effects and eddie crawled around in weird positions. it’s a wonder they didn’t get hurt. 3.) sid and eddie found d&d first and spent weeks trying to convince kurt to join them so they could have a group to play. kurt only held off because he’s #likethat. he was interested from the get go. neither eddie nor sid know that to this day. 4.) all three of them got shitfaced drunk and tried to contact the dead in an abandoned trailer where a homicide had taken place a few years earlier. eddie was terrified and left because he got spooked and the twins wouldn’t stop fucking with him.