#Thank you for writing a great fanfic

[inbuel]

doodle (I loved the fanfic I read yesterday🥺)

[baronessblixen]

Fictober Day 26: Let's Give Them Something To Talk About

Prompt: "You were the first"

@living-in-unreality sent in this ask: Mulder or Scully overhears office gossip about two other agents being placed on separate teams after their workplace relationship was discovered. Bonus points if it happens when the MSR pining is at its peak and they are still scared to take that leap. Rating: T, wc: 1,580

Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober24

Over the years, he’s been the topic of office gossip more than once. So when he sees the huddled group and hears the whispering, his mind kicks into overdrive, wondering what he—or they—might have done this time.

But he can’t come up with anything. He and Scully have been model agents of decorum. So what is it about?

He inches closer, trying not to draw any attention to himself. While most agents know him by reputation, few engage in idle chit-chat with him. Then one of the men spots him and crooks a finger at him.

“Spooky, have you heard?” He decides to ignore the dreaded nickname and lets himself be drawn into the circle. He catches a whiff of entitlement and a hint of contempt. But his curiosity is too strong to step away.

“Heard what?”

“The Anderson and Davis affair.” Mulder has no idea who these people are or what they’ve done. His expression must say as much because the agent continues. Not after he rolls his eyes, though.

“They did the nasty. Hooked up. They were found out and have been put on separate teams. I think if Kersh could have, he would have transferred one of them out of state.” Everyone except Mulder laughs. His ears are ringing. He may not know who these two agents are, and he may not be in this exact situation, but it hits far too close to home.

“It’s like I always say,” one of the other agents says. Mulder is certain he’s seen him before, but can’t place him.

“Don’t shit where you eat and don’t fuck where you work.” Another round of laughter makes Mulder feel queasy. He excuses himself, unsure if anyone hears him or even cares. He himself doesn’t care.

The only thing he thinks about is what he’s just witnessed. A team split up because of a personal, romantic relationship. His thoughts jump to Scully. To their journey toward more than friends and partners. What if this happened to them? God knows they’ve tried to separate them before. He can’t let it happen. He can’t risk losing her.

*

Scully’s eyes are burning a hole into his temple. They’re challenging him to turn and give her a sign or anything to assure her he’s okay. But he keeps his head and eyes forward. He’s not paying attention to the meeting at all; that in itself is nothing unusual.

More often than not, Mulder and Scully will doodle, share a crossword puzzle, or even send notes back and forth. Like a couple of teenagers. His reluctance to face her has consequences too. Someone elbows him in the ribs and then there’s a neatly folded piece of paper in front of him.

“Are you okay?” Only Scully would send a note like this. It’s so her that he almost smiles. Instead, and with great difficulty, he screws the note up and puts it in his pocket.

He’s so tempted to turn to her and see her expression, but he doesn’t dare. He’ll crumble. He knows he’s on borrowed time as it is; as soon as this meeting is over, Scully will find him. His queasiness returns and he swallows hard.

Once the meeting is over, Mulder grabs his things and flees the conference room. He’s lucky that he’s tall and broad; agents step aside and let him through.

“Mulder.” Scully’s voice is too demanding to keep walking. He freezes and turns to her.

“Are you okay? What’s the matter?” It’s the worry in her tone and expression that gets him.

“Not feeling well,” he mumbles. At least it’s only half a lie.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” She puts her hand on his forehead and he winces. What if someone sees them? What if they draw the wrong conclusions? He bats her hand away, and the hurt in her eyes is too much for him to bear.

“I’m just gonna- going home. See you.” Her eyes follow him as he stalks off. What the hell is he going to do now?

*

The knock doesn’t surprise him; he expected it. What surprises him is how long Scully stayed away. He opens the door and there she is, holding a plastic bag.

“Hey,” he says.

“How are you feeling?” He shrugs. “I brought you chicken soup.” That’s his Scully. Against his better judgment, he opens the door wider and she steps inside, walking in under his still outstretched arm.

“I didn’t make it,” she says, unloading the bag in his kitchen. “I wouldn’t want you to feel worse.” A smile flits across her face. It only fades when she sees his blank face.

“Did something happen?” she asks point blank, crossing her arms in front of her chest. In that moment she reminds him of Diana. He’s wise enough not to mention it – even if it would drive her away. He doesn’t want to hurt her. None of this is her fault.

In the past, when no one cared what agents did in their private lives, and when he and Diana could have been Anderson and Davis – whoever they are – she’d close herself off to him just like this. She’d wanted space when he wanted closeness. It wasn’t that either of them were bad people; they had just never worked.

“Mulder, please, whatever it is, we-”

“I heard some gossip today.” That doesn’t faze Scully. What must the gossip mill be like in the ladies’ room? The men are bad enough as it is.

“About us? That’s nothing new, is it? Just ignore it.”

“Not about us,” he admits, biting his lip. “Do you know Anderson and Davis?” Her eyes grow wide.

“I know Agent Davis,” she says. “Why? Did something happen to them?”

“In a manner of speaking. They were caught and split up.”

“Caught?” Scully asks and he realizes that she isn’t grasping what he doesn’t want to say out loud.

“They were more than partners.” The penny still hasn’t dropped. “They were in a relationship,” Mulder explains. “A romantic relationship.”

“So?”

“So? I’m not going to- Scully, they were split up because they’re dating.”

“That’s against regulations,” Scully says, sounding sure of herself. Mulder shakes his head.

“I heard it, Scully.”

“Where?” Her voice is laced with suspicion and her arms are still crossed.

“In front of the men’s room.”

“Oh, Mulder. How do you even know they were telling the truth? Do you know what insane rumors are making the rounds in the Hoover building?”

“But… Anderson and Davis have been put on separate teams. I checked.” He didn’t do it to get proof. He wanted to put faces to their names. For a while, he just stared at their ID pictures. There was nothing particularly special about them; Mulder has probably crossed their path several times in the last few years.

“They could have been split up for a number of reasons. There’s no rule against partners dating.”

“How do you know that?” Scully blushes.

“I checked.”

“When?” He needs to know.

“Recently,” she admits, clearing her throat. “That’s not the point, Mulder. You’ve been acting strange all day. What does this rumor have to do with anything?”

“When I heard what happened,” Mulder says, “you were the first… the first thought that crossed my mind.”

“Me?”

“You and… me. I know I’m presuming things here and we’re not- but we could maybe eventually and I panicked.”

“And instead of telling me this, you thought you’d ignore me, pretend to be sick, and run off?”

“Well, when you say it like that,” he says, smiling sheepishly. “I couldn’t – I can’t risk losing you, Scully. That’s all. I couldn’t get it out of my head. What if someone saw us play baseball the other night?”

His most cherished memory, now tainted. Just the thought. He imagines someone keeping tabs on them, waiting for them to cross the line. He had wanted to kiss her so badly. All the stars had aligned – literally. And he’d chickened out. Now he thinks that maybe it was better this way.

“What we do in our private time is our business.”

“Apparently not,” Mulder mumbles.

“Mulder, you don’t know what happened. They might have been frisky while on assignment or at work. And either way, we’re not like them.” It takes him a moment to catch her meaning. They’re not like them. What she’s saying is that they’re not at risk because she isn’t interested in changing their relationship at all. Once again, he’s been misreading all the signs.

“No,” he says dejectedly. “We’re not.”

“No, Mulder, you don’t understand.” She sighs, invading his personal space. “When we- when that happens, we’ll inform HR.”

When – not if.

“What you’re saying is?”

“Please presume things,” she says. She smiles at him before she gets on her tiptoes and presses a kiss to his lips. He blinks as rapidly as his heart beats. “I leafed through the regulations last month,” Scully confesses with pink cheeks. “While romantic relationships are not encouraged, they’re not forbidden. All you have to do is disclose them to HR.”

“We can do that,” he says, his spirits lifting. She nods, unable to hide her smile.

“And I could have just told you that earlier, but you decided to play possum.”

“Gotta add some spice sometimes, Scully.” He grins at her. “So, when do you think we should let HR know?”

“Tomorrow.” She’s in his arms, kissing him, and he’s agreeing with everything she says and does.

[hawkbutt]

Nothing was ever wrong - they have never been wrong. But there was something missing - and this was it.

Art inspired by Still By Brewrosemilk on AO3 Author is here on tumblr @gayhoediaz

[ao3screenshotss]

[magnifythesun]

Hi! Are you still taking ianthony prompts? I've had this stuck in my head the time Ian's car broke down and Anthony said he begged Ian 6 times to come pick him up and I just imagine Damsel in Distress Ian who's also stubborn and a bit oblivious to a worried and protective Anthony who's always there for him in different situations.

Thank you sooo much for the prompt!!

This is definitely one of my favorite little details that they've dropped about themselves haha!! I can't believe Anthony had to ask Ian SIX whole times just to come get him 😂 Ian truly must never ask for help! Okay, I'm a little rusty in my writing but I'm excited so let's see how this goes! Let me know what you think! ^_^

(mid writing notes: writing this really made me realize just how many times SIX whole times of asking your friend to let you give them a ride is. SIX TIMES)

Read on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56102110

--

Leave it to Ian to get stranded in the only 'middle-of-nowhere' spot in LA. Anthony was wearing tracks into his living room carpet, caught up in rereading the messages Ian had sent.

"Car broke 😢" was the first sign of trouble, accompanied by the sad photo of Ian's car half-pulled off of the asphalt into grass.

"Where are you?" Anthony had shot back, confused by the seemingly rural background of the photo. "Got AAA coming to help?"

"In the most barren part of the whole city." Ian replied after a couple of minutes. "I'm taking a look at at it now but yeah I'm probably going to call them. Car sounds fucked."

"Shit, man. Lemme know if you need a ride" Anthony offered. It only took a second for the reply.

"No worries, I'll be good."

There had been radio silence for a while then. Anthony hadn't been too stressed. He figured Ian already had a different person lined up to get him if his car didn't start back up. Still, he kept glancing at his phone for updates that didn't come.

After about forty minutes, and a quick glance at the clock that told him it'd be getting dark soon, Anthony texted Ian again.

"Triple A fix your car?"

The response was prompt. "Nope"

Anthony stared at the message, knowing this man did not just send him only the word 'nope.' It took a minute but more followed.

"The AAA guy's still looking at it but from what I can tell it's beyond his scope. He mentioned I should probably call a tow truck so I've been looking at reviews."

Anthony glanced outside his window, frowning at the rapidly darkening sky. "That sounds like a good idea. after you call whoever, I can drive over so you have a ride once they've towed yours"

Ian responded quickly, "No don't worry I'm all good."

Definitely must have a ride then, Anthony thought. Still, he had to make sure. "Oh good, you've got a ride then?"

There was a long pause, so Anthony set his phone down, glancing at the setting sun again and went to get some water from the kitchen.

Coming back in to his phone, he checked his messages, and-

"No, I'll probably just Uber."

Anthony was flabbergasted. "Why?? Don't worry man it's no problem for me to pick you up. Let me know where you're at." It was actually just straight up dark outside at this point. "Is the AAA guy still there??"

"Nah he's gone. Waiting on the tow truck."

Alone in the middle-of-nowhere Los Angeles? Anthony thought, In the dark? Worry flared up in his chest and the pacing began.

"Ian, just drop me your map pin and I'll head over."

"It's chill, I'm not in a rush to get home." Ian replied, not a care in the world.

Anthony resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands. "that's not really the point??"

Suddenly a picture was loading in on the messages.

Anthony braced himself for a lackadaisical gif (and yes, he pronounced it jif like god and the creator intended) but was greeted instead with a horrendous selfie of Ian holding the phone at an angle an inch from his chin, smiling at him. The artificial light from his phone lit up the interior of his car behind him. Anthony couldn't help but laugh, even as the worry churned in his stomach. Another message followed.

"Don't worry. I'm a big boy now, all grown up and everything."

Anthony considered wracking his brains for a daddy joke, but decided Ian didn't deserve it right now. He grabbed his keys and wallet, flicked off the living room light, and left, locking his door behind him. As he walked toward his car, he jabbed the call button.

It rang only twice before Ian picked up. Anthony heard him take a breath to speak and didn't give him a chance. "Ian, just tell me where you're at, I'm heading to my car now."

"I-" Ian sounded surprised. There was a moment of rustling on the other end, then Anthony was clearly put on speaker as Ian's voice echoed slightly through the call. "Anthony, really, it's fine. The tow truck people have an ETA of like 15 minutes and then I'll call the Uber while they're hooking the car up."

Anthony, now at his car, pressed his eyes closed for a second in annoyance as he clicked his key. He hoped Ian could hear the pointed little beep-beep of his car unlocking in response.

"You really don't have to go out of your way to come get me," Ian continued, undeterred. "I didn't mean to derail your whole night with this," He laughed.

Anthony got in the car and leaned his head on his steering wheel in despair. "Ian."

"What?" Ian asked.

Anthony began to laugh despite himself, "I don't understand," He laughed harder, pushing the words out. "Why won't you just let me pick you up? I've asked you like five times!"

There was a moment of silence from Ian's end, and Anthony knew Ian was processing just how ridiculous this had become. Ian started snickering. Then they were both just laughing, Anthony holding the phone tight to his ear as Ian's laughter poured from it, his other hand ready to turn the car on.

"So," Anthony caught his breath, "So can you -please- drop me a map pin so I can come get you?"

"Alright, alright." Ian said.

Ian's voice was soft and breathless from his laughter. Anthony had spent a long time learning how to properly relish the beautiful moments in his life. The sound of Ian's voice right now, echoing slightly through the phone? That was one of those moments.

Anthony's phone pinged. "There. You happy?"

"Finally, my god." Anthony pulled the phone away to check. "Okay, I'll be there in ten minutes."

"Great," Ian said. "I think the tow truck gets here right about then." Anthony could still hear the smile in his voice. "I'll be here, waiting for you to rescue me."

[starsignchaser]

may 1st | prompt: rose | word count: 759 | @rosekillermicrofic | mentions: drinking | TW Emetophobia

Evan felt the wall of heat behind him before he felt the throb of his head. For just a second he got to pretend like he wasn’t going to have to nurse one hell of a hangover today.

Wincing, he attempted to squish his face directly into his pillow. Maybe if he tried hard enough to avoid the rising sun he could put off the inevitable for just a little while longer. Plus, it would be nice to get to spend a few more hours wrapped up in Barty, warm and comfortable and in their bed.

However, it seemed Barty had other ideas. 

“Rosie… I don’t feel so good,” came a grumbling whisper from behind Evan’s left ear. In the next second, Evan felt the other man go stiff before bolting out of bed and running down the hall to the bathroom. 

Evan half-grimaced, half-laughed, feeling bad for Barty while still taking a little joy in him being the one to spew his guts. They had basically gone shot-for-shot the night before, until Evan tapped out, leaving Barty to do nothing but crow about how it was him who had out-drank Evan. Serves him right for being a sore winner. 

Before Evan had even finished debating the merits of getting up to go rub Barty on the back while sitting on the bathroom floor, the brunette himself returned, standing in the doorway to their bedroom. He learned his shoulder against the doorjamb and squinted at Evan.

“You look like you just rose from the dead.” 

Barty snorted before wincing at his own loudness, “Yeah, I feel that way too.”

He made his way back to the bed slowly, not taking his eyes off of Evan. With Barty’s escape, the sheets had been rumpled in a way that left his bare back lay exposed with his face peeking over his shoulder. 

“You brushed your teeth right? I’m not letting you back in here if your breath is rank.” Evan questioned, trying to sound serious even though he knew he could never turn Barty away.

“Nice and minty fresh, just for you, baby,” Barty said, winking and showing his teeth.

As Barty got closer, Evan went to lay on his back from that only made the other man frown.

“No, no, stay like that. I want to hold you.” Barty said, basically pouting, making Evan roll his eyes. 

“You can still hold me if I’m facing you. Plus, this way I get to see your face.” he responded, trying not to think about the blush rising to his cheeks. He needn’t worry though because he could see Barty soften at his words. 

The two came together under their big warm duvet, Barty on his back with Evan curled into his side, and the blond moved to rub some of the chill out of the others arms. Meanwhile, Barty started tracing little shapes on Evan’s shoulder. He probably thought Evan wouldn’t realize what he was writing, but Evan could always tell.

Mine

Smiling to himself at his boyfriend's antics, he was surprised to feel the soft press of lips to his forehead.

“What was that for?” he whispered, turning his curious gaze up. He was surprised to see Barty looking down at him with almost anxiety in his eyes.

“Rosie,” Barty trailed off, looking like he was struggling to find the right words. Evan was always patient for him.

Another press of lips to his forehead, almost like he couldn’t help himself. Holding himself there for a few seconds, breathing in deep and letting it go, tickling Evan’s scalp slightly.

“You know, right?” came the words, finally, pressed into Evan’s skin.

They didn’t talk about it. They didn’t sit down and go through the formalities of it all. They were Barty and Evan. They had been inseparable since they met, best friends and thick as thieves from day one. And they grew and changed and became even more. Together. But they didn’t talk about it.

That didn’t have to.

“Yeah, B.” Evan whispered back, moving up to meet Barty’s eyes. “I know.”

“You… good. That’s good.” came the almost nervous reply, like the dark-haired man couldn’t believe his luck in being understood.

“And,” a pause, “you know about me too, right? B, you gotta know,” Evan said, moving to lay his hand on the others’ cheek, pulling him in.

“I know, Rosie, I know. I promise,” replied Barty, wrapping his arm even tighter around Evan’s shoulders. 

Laying their foreheads together, wrapped in each other's heat, the pair slowly drifted back to sleep.

[blorbologist]

Scanlan + dealers choice or solo, 69

69. Safe and Sound by Taylor Swift, The Civil Wars

Scanlan knows a lot of songs. So many songs. A bazillion songs. Practically a dozen for every occasion. Bar crawls, long days on the road, killing a wannabe god, seducing a special someone. You want live music? Scanlan Shorthalt’s got you covered.

Except he doesn’t have his daughter covered. Because he doesn’t think he knows a single lullaby. 

So instead of his exquisite singing voice, Juni is left with her dad’s way, way less impressive, boorish and bland speaking voice as he endlessly echoes shhh shhh shhh.

 (To clarify: he means the baby. His daughter with Pike. Because he was never there when Kaylie, his firstborn daughter, was a baby, and so never got to practice lullabies, or sing her lullabies, or stop her crying, and he has to get this right for Juni. He can’t fail her, too - not like he failed Kaylie. Or Juni’s namesake.)

He has been failing, is the thing. 

Pike takes one day - one day! - off to relax in Whitestone with Vex and he can’t even get their baby to settle down for her nap. Juni misses her mama. Understandable, he totally gets that; except it’s been over an hour and she’s fussy and crying, and screams if he puts her down. 

And trust him, he’s tried and checked everything, and he just - fuck. Maybe Kaylie was better off without him being there for her at all.

Scanlan is just about this close to tears when he gives up on rocking her and puts his little girl in her little tiny bassinet. She kicks and punches (see, there’s a lot of Pike in her too! Or maybe that’s Grog, somehow - like spiritually.) and screams some more. 

“Please,” he begs, “please just close your eyes -”

And there’s a scrap there. Pieces of an old melody, one he hasn’t thought of in years. Hasn’t thought of since - 

He sniffs. Oh, not just close to tears now. 

Scanlan pulls a chair closer while Juniper brutalizes the mattress. Reaching a hand into the bassinet, his heart flips embarrassingly when she immediately grabs for his fingers and clutches on them tight. She also stuffs his thumb in her mouth, which, okay, you do you little lady. 

Swallowing the lump in his throat, glad that he can finally smile again, Scanlan gives his mother’s song a go.

Send me a character / pair of characters / AU & a number from 1 to 100 & I'll write a little something inspired by that song!

[ao3-shenanigans]

Would it be rude to ask an author how sad of an ending an ongoing story will be? I don't like permanent major character death stories or Greek tragedy levels of sad ending stories and it's one of the ways this story I'm really enjoying could end up going. There is no indication in the tags or author's notes from what I've seen. Idk I just don't want to be mean or discouraging cause I love the story soo much!!!!!

To be honest, I’m not entirely sure; I know everyone will have widely varying opinions on this which means that it’s a very good question!

On one hand, authors aren’t generally fans of being told what to do or not to do in the comments as that’s not really the place for such things, on the other hand- if it’s a genuine question I don’t really see why not?

I think it really comes down to tone and context:

‘Woah! I love your story! [character/concept] is one of my favorites and you do it so well!

Out of curiosity, may I ask how sad you intend the ending to be?/genq (I’m sensitive to some endings and didn’t notice anything in the tags and as such wanted to be able to prepare myself; if you’re willing to share)

I love this story and am always so excited to see an update notification in my inbox!

Many many kudos!’

^something like this would be, I think, pretty well received by the author and understandable as it’s coming from a place of good intentions and is made clear as such

Of course, if it does end up being a tragedy for the ages, you might have to stop reading, which would be unfortunate but there’s really nothing you can (or should) do to change it. If it turns out to be the case, leave an “Extra kudos!” On the last chapter you read and walk off without further comment- leave on a high note, and hey- bookmark it and maybe one day you’ll be able to come back and revisit the story!

Note: to everyone commenting and sharing their own experiences and opinions, please, above all else, be kind, both to commenters and authors <3

[rhineposting]

Cinders, Regrets and Half Truths

Now that the bear has been put down and buried six feet under, Jack and Dave have all the time in the world to do whatever they desire. For Jack, it's getting his life back. In which two zombies discuss anatomy, the scent of smoked scuttler, plastic hamster breasts and affections.

[thathermitweirdo]

As a writer I must now make RenDoc canon in all fics since they are canonically married now.

RenDoc is coming to BAT

[definitely-nothaunted]

Cirrus and Cumulus cuddling with you during your period - your cheek pressed against Cumulus’ chest, her heart thudding softly in your ear as she plays with your hair. Cirrus is lying behind you, gently holding a heating pad against your lower abdomen. She presses sweet kisses against your jaw and neck as you wait for your pain meds to kick in. They stay with you even after you fall asleep, admiring the way the light of the tv dances across your peaceful features.

[andiwriteordie]

the heartbreak prince | part 2/6: a fight (that someday we’re gonna win). 

“Will,” Mike says and raises a brow, “are you worried about me?”

Again, the words are enough to color Will’s cheeks red, and Mike can’t help but feel a certain sense of smugness in his heart. “I try to be a nice person—” he complains.

“You are!” Mike says gleefully. “You are worried about me—”

“—and then you have to go and ruin it,” Will finishes, giving Mike an exasperated look. Then, with a lowered voice, he adds, “I can’t stand you.”

Or:

As Mike embarks on a month-long tour through Luzios with Will and the Party, he begins to grow closer to his fiancé and work through the shadows of their shared past.

—

chapter 2 of the heartbreak prince for you tonight, featuring:

the tangled-ification of byler 

mike being an idiot (affectionate) for approximately 16k words not so straight

byler kissey kisses 

also if you noticed i increased the chapter count no you didn’t

[sainz100]

2024 Las Vegas GP ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ by Irwen Song

[chaotic-orphan]

Sooo… I finally wrote it. And let me warn you in advance that it is the absolute worst thing I’ve ever written in my entire life. LIke what in the wattpad fic is this?? What in the c.ai is this??? 

But also, I catered to that one infamous choking anon—look, I tried my best, okay? Also, I do love me a little choking 💀😭

The story may feel disjointed and rushed at parts, but that’s because it is— it has no real plot whatsoever. I guess I was just going for the general vibe rather than a fully fleshed out story? But then again, it is a fanfic, sooo…

Anyways, hope y’all enjoy my pathetic attempt at an Intoxicating Fear fic. Love y’alls lots, and you too, @chaotic-orphan!

xx

-~-~-~-~-~-

The night was a deep blanket of silence as Kit walked home, the distant sounds of the city fading behind him. After a gruelling shift at the hero tower, fatigue clung to him like a shadow. The dark alleyway ahead felt especially foreboding, its walls lined with graffiti that whispered stories of forgotten souls. Streetlights flickered, casting unsettling shadows that danced across the damp pavement, creating an eerie mosaic of light and dark.

Just as Kit turned a corner, a figure lunged from the depths of the shadows—Ambrose.

Before Kit could react, Ambrose tackled him to the ground, the impact knocking the wind out of him. He gasped as Ambrose’s hands tightened around his throat, panic surging within him like a tidal wave. The chill of the concrete seeped into his skin, contrasting sharply with the heat of his rising fear.

"You thought you could escape me?" Ambrose’s voice was cold, filled with a twisted satisfaction that sent shivers down Kit’s spine.

"Let me go!" Kit shouted, desperation creeping into his voice. He strained to summon his electric abilities, but Ambrose’s grip was like iron, dulling his spark, leaving him feeling powerless.

Ambrose leaned closer, a cruel smile curling his lips, the flickering streetlight illuminating his features in a sinister glow. "You’re not in control here."

Kit’s heart raced as he twisted beneath Ambrose, trying to break free. With a sudden burst of strength, he managed to throw Ambrose off balance, but it was temporary. Ambrose was on him again, pinning him down, his hands constricting around Kit’s throat like a vice, the world narrowing to a painful focus.

"Why did you come back?" Kit gasped, struggling for air.

"Because you need to come with me," Ambrose replied, his tone unyielding, as if he were delivering a decree. "You belong with me, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen."

Kit’s mind raced, memories flashing like lightning. The last time he had seen Ambrose, it had been under vastly different circumstances—filled with a familial solidarity, occasional laughter echoing in the air, not this violent chaos.

In his mind's eye, Kit recalled Ambrose and Jude, silhouetted against the city lights, locked in a passionate kiss, their joy stark against the backdrop of a darkening sky. They had looked so carefree, so oblivious to the storm brewing around them.

It was just a rumour, Ambrose’s voice echoed in Kit's thoughts, a haunting refrain. Jude and I... it meant nothing.

With a sudden surge of adrenaline, Kit managed to shove Ambrose off him, scrambling to his feet. But Ambrose quickly recovered, grabbing Kit’s arm and pulling him close again, the smell of sweat and cologne enveloping Kit in a dizzying haze.

"Let’s talk," Ambrose said, his grip still firm, the intensity of his gaze unyielding.

Reluctantly, Kit followed, feeling the tension crackle in the air between them like static electricity. They walked to a nearby bar, its neon sign flickering ominously, casting a ghostly glow on the cracked pavement. Inside, the atmosphere felt heavy, thick with unspoken words and the scent of stale beer mingling with the faint aroma of cigarette smoke.

Max, the bar owner, greeted them with a nod, his weathered face a map of years spent in the dim light. "What’ll it be?"

"Two shots of whiskey," Ambrose ordered, his tone lacking warmth, as if he were merely playing a role in a dark theatre.

As they settled onto the bar stools, the faux leather cracked beneath them, and Kit couldn’t shake the unease that clung to him like a second skin. "What about Jude?" he pressed, muted anger flaring again, the question like a lit fuse.

Ambrose waved a dismissive hand, irritation flickering across his features. "Forget him. We have more pressing matters."

The whiskey arrived, amber liquid glinting under the low light, and they downed the shots, the burn cutting through the tension like a knife. Ambrose leaned in closer, his voice low and conspiratorial. "You still don’t understand, do you? You’re meant for more than this life."

Kit narrowed his eyes, anger bubbling beneath the surface, a tempest ready to erupt. "You think you can just show up and demand I leave everything behind?"

Ambrose’s gaze was intense, as if he were peering into Kit’s very soul. "This place is holding you back," he replied. "You need to step into the light with me."

Kit felt the weight of Ambrose's words, but the alcohol was dulling his resolve, making the room sway slightly.

Unbeknownst to Kit, Ambrose had slipped something into his drink. After another sip, a wave of dizziness washed over him, the world spinning around him like a carousel gone awry.

"What did you do?" he slurred, struggling to stay upright, the edges of his vision blurring.

"Just a little something to help you relax," Ambrose said casually, a predatory glint in his eyes that sent a shiver down Kit’s spine.

Kit’s strength faded, and he felt the ghost of Ambrose’s hand tighten around his throat again, the imaginary pressure making it hard to breathe, suffocating him with fear.

"Why are you doing this?" Kit gasped, panic rising like bile.

"Because I need you to understand," Ambrose said, his tone chilling, devoid of warmth. "You’re mine."

As they stumbled back to Kit's apartment, Ambrose’s presence loomed over him like a storm cloud, dark and oppressive. Inside, Ambrose closed the door with a slow, deliberate motion, the sound echoing ominously in the small space.

"This isn’t over," Kit whispered, fear and anger churning in his chest like a storm at sea.

Ambrose stepped closer, his expression shifting to something darker, more primal. "We need to talk about us."

"Us?" Kit echoed, scepticism lacing his voice, as if he were trying to make sense of a riddle with no answer.

Ambrose held his gaze, eyes intense and fierce. "I didn’t abandon you. I had my reasons, but now I’m back for you."

Kit’s heart raced, caught between anger and the flicker of something darker, something he didn’t want to acknowledge. "You think it’s that simple?"

The pressure around his throat returned, tightening just enough to send panic coursing through him like a wildfire. "You need to listen," Ambrose commanded, his voice low and dangerous.

"You can’t just expect me to forgive you," Kit managed to say, breathless, the words escaping in a whine.

"I came back for you," Ambrose insisted, his grip still firm, unyielding. "You have to understand."

Kit felt the pressure building, the edges of his vision blurring as darkness threatened to creep in. "You’re hurting me," he gasped, his voice barely a whisper.

Ambrose released him slightly, but his eyes remained locked on Kit’s, a predatory intensity that made Kit’s pulse race. "I won’t let you go that easily."

"What do you want from me?" Kit managed, desperation creeping into his voice, the weight of the world pressing down on him.

"I want you by my side," Ambrose replied, voice low and menacing, each word dripping with a power that was both alluring and terrifying. "But first, you need to know what you’re getting into."

Kit glared at Ambrose, heart racing, feeling trapped. "This isn’t love—or whatever you think this is. You’re just trying to control me."

Ambrose stepped closer, the tension between them palpable, electric. "I’m trying to save you. You don’t see it yet, but I’m the only one who can."

"I can take care of myself!" Kit shouted, his anger finally boiling over, a defiant spark igniting in his chest.

With a swift movement, Ambrose seized Kit again, his grip tightening until Kit felt the world closing in around him, darkness threatening to swallow him whole. "You’ll understand," Ambrose said, voice cold and unyielding.

Just as Kit felt he might pass out, Ambrose released him, stepping back, breathing heavily, as if he were wrestling with his own demons. "I want you back, Kit. But you need to accept that I won’t let you go."

Kit staggered, gasping for air, the fear mingling with something else he couldn’t quite place, an unsettling mix of dread and yearning. "What have you done?"

Ambrose’s expression turned serious, the weight of his words heavy in the air. "I’m not playing games. This is about survival."

As dawn broke, pale light filtering through the grimy window, Kit knew he had to confront Ambrose and figure out what he truly wanted. The weight of the night pressed down on him, suffocating yet exhilarating, but he couldn’t ignore the twisted bond that kept pulling them together.

This was only the beginning, and Kit had no idea where it would lead them. The struggle for control would continue, but one thing was certain: he wouldn’t back down that easily.

OSKIT SHIPPERS!!!!

CALLING OSKIT SHIPPERS!!!

WHAT IS THIS MASTERPIECE?!?!! OMG I LOVED IT, THE TENSION THE SUSPENSE!!!! ✨THE CHOKING✨ THE DESCRIPTIONS ARE SO GOOD!!! THE SETTING THE EMOTION, ALL MWAH MWAH MWAH!!!! Not only Oskit Shippers but Judkar too!!!!! THIS WAS SUCH A DELIGHTFUL READ!!!!

PLEASE PUBLISH IT IF YOU’RE COMFORTABLE WITH IT!!! And if not that’s okay too, but fuck this was so enjoyable, if you’re a writer (which you MUST be, even in your spare time) send me a DM or something so I can follow your account if you write ((or you think you ever will)) because fuuuuccckk me your description is IMMACULATE and I want more!!!!

Sorry for fangirling and absolutely no pressure on my part, I just loved that, even if you’re thinking of continuing this, just wow!!! You have an immediate fan

LIKE THAT OPENING PARAGRAPH IS SO GOOD AND THEN IT JUST HOOKS YOU LIKE OMG!!!! This was incredible and the little mystery of the next morning, Kit’s disorientation of last night so good!!!! Just a fucking delight Anon, wow.

Even the dynamics of Kit and Ambrose you caught perfectly, and Ambrose’s need to control Kit🫡 CHEF’S KISS!!! Fuck I will rant more if I don’t stop, I just wow!!!! WOW!!!!! HAH HAH!!!! That was great, thank you for writing it and sharing it wow!!!!! Brilliant!!!!

[self-indulgent-paw-patrol]

What are your favorite Chase moments from the show so far?

Just like with Zuma's post, it's in no specific order, I just really loved all these moments

That first Mission PAW episode when the Princess chose specifically HIM to be the watch dog and guard her crown. That was so adorable I can't even. He seemed so genuinely proud and happy there! Plus he's so damn cute wearing that tux lol

When they were going to rescue Skye and Chase was so worried upon hearing that she was the one in need of rescue. Then when Ryder was choosing which pups would be part of the rescue, that moment he was like "Pick meee pick meeee-"?? That was so cute, he really cares about her and wanted to impress her so bad lmao personally make sure she would be safe (Bonus points for his excitement over being picked for the rescue and everyone else like Go ahead king, we all know you wanted this XD)

The entire time he spent with the owlet and working to rescue the mama owl from that fallen tree. It was so sweet!! The fact I also love owls surely didn't help AUSHAUSHAUSHAU I love that episode SO MUCH

That moment when he finally turned into a Merpup. Poor boy was so fixated on "being on duty" despite wanting SO BAD to go and participate in "the fun". And he couldn't even enjoy being a merpup immediately because he was transformed just because he needed to swim faster for the rescue but he was so overjoyed anyway! Only after that mess, he could go and finally have the fun he wanted and deserved so much.

That moment in the first Sea Patrol episode when he and Skye were left behind at the beach while the rest of the team went on the first mission with the Sea Patroller. His face upon SEEING the HQ turn into a ship and sail away was just priceless XD (Also it's rare to see Chase being put on the sidelines for once lmao)

The first Ultimate Rescue episode!! God, Chase was SO HAPPY. He's THE Police Pup, he gets to lead the mission, supervise, plan, give orders. And the way all the other pups clearly loved the experience and were SO ON BOARD with being Police Pups with him, it was just awesome!

So far these are my favorite moments! Actually I legit just got to watch this first Ultimate Rescue episode like one hour ago. Not to mention it took me five days to think of these moments and then go find the episodes again to take the respective screenshots XD

[feyhunter78]

What about 6 or 20 (author’s choice) and young Elrond? Thank you ❤️

I went ahead and did #20, and I think it came out pretty well!!! (Also, this def has some Bridgerton inspo, and you'll see it in the dialogue) Thank you for your patience! <3 I was supposed to get lasik yesterday then last minutes the Dr came out and was like "actually nvm we have to do a different procedure, we need to reschedule." So it's been a weird day or so for me XD

The Object of All His Desires

This is prompt #20 from the list, which mean you can no longer request #20 for Elrond!

Elrond prided himself on his silver tongue. How he could spin an ordinary tale into an epic for the ages, or how he could turn a simple idea into a speech fit for a king. But when it came to you, he often found himself tripping over his words. His tongue suddenly swelling and becoming too heavy to move properly when faced with your radiance.

A perfect example would be now, as you stand before him tears in your eyes, clad only in a nightdress and robe as you stand outside his door, chest heaving, lips trembling asking him why was he ignoring you? Why was he acting so cold and callous towards you?

“Elrond please, you must tell me now. If I have done something to upset you, or I have offended you, torment me no longer and bid me to leave your sight never to cross your path again.” Your voice shook, eyes brimming with tears as you clutched at your robe for stability.

“No, you have not offended me, I bear no ill will towards you y/n, I promise you.” He said hurriedly, ushering you inside his chambers.

“But if I have not, then why have you been avoiding me? I have searched my mind and cannot find a reason.” You continued, voice filled with sorrow, as you wrapped your robe further around yourself, not meeting his eyes.

Elrond’s mind was a mess. He had been avoiding you because he could no longer contain his affections. Every moment he spent in your presence, he had to fight back the urge to blurt out his feelings in the most undignified way. But to see you so distraught, so uncertain, tore at his heart and his resolve.

“I have been battling within myself for some time, and I wished to spare you of my turmoil.” He said gently, hand twitching with the urge to reach out and comfort you. But he could not, if he did, he would find himself unable to let you go.

“We are friends, you can always come to me with your difficulties, you know this.” You said, lifting your gaze to his.

Elrond hung his head as he saw your tears, glistening like diamonds as they fell. “Of course, I do, but this particular matter is one I must solve myself.”

You took a step forward and took one of his hands in yours. “No matter is too dark or difficult that the light of friendship cannot help resolve it.”

Your voice was so gentle, so earnest, that his fingers curled around your hand, and he fell to his knees, head still hung low. “Y/N, I do not deserve this kindness, if you knew the depths of my desire, the dreams I have had you would scorn me.”

Your voice grew in strength before softening once more as you caressed his jaw. “Never, I would never scorn you. Elrond, you have a piece of my heart that no one else shall ever have, and that is not easily dissuade.”

Elrond looked up at you, oakwood eyes filled with a mix of admiration and anxiety. “I’ve never wanted anyone or anything the way I want you. It’s terrifying. And so, so beautiful.” He said, voice reverent and trembling, he pressed your hand to his lips, the warmth lingering.

“I do not know what to say.” You said breathlessly, heart pounding in your chest.

“You need not say anything, I could no longer remain quiet, my affections for you have grown too large in my heart. Y/N I merely needed you to know how much I love you.”

You sunk to your knees and cupped Elrond’s face. “I do not know what to say except that I have loved you for as long as I can remember, and I will never cease to love you.” You pressed your lips to his, pouring every ounce of affection and feeling you had into the kiss, hoping he would understand the longing you’ve carried for so long.

When you broke apart, foreheads resting against each other, he took your hands and kissed them both. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” He whispered, and you whispered it right back before connecting your lips once more.

Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @elronds-pointy-ears, @elrondscalaquendi, @dilf-superiority