#Very angsty fic

[hidden-insomnia]

I love the fact that I am having the best time doing this: writing a fic on my nokia e90.

[acowardinmordor]

I only had Steve repeating his senior year because I wanted the kids to know Eddie already, but thinking about it? This messes Steve up so so much more. He obviously met Robin, who asked a few pointed questions that made him go oh. about his life and his identity.

He’s back for another year in high school because of post concussion symptoms. His parents are probably pissed. He’s trying to rebuild his own sense of self without defining it with popularity, but he’s stuck in the place where he was the most popular before. And is now one of those loser super seniors.

Enter Eddie, who had been on Steve’s radar as a vague awareness of maybe-attraction in previous years. And the guy is protecting his kids. Encouraging them. He’s also as close to Out as he can be in Hawkins. He knows who he is. He’s unapologetic and doesn’t let trends define him. He’s who he wants to be. Of course there’s hearteyes.

But Steve isn’t comfortable with himself enough to talk to him directly. Hence the letters.

And maybe at first he wasn’t even sure that Eddie liked getting them. Or was even reading them. Probably wrote about how he was anonymous because he didn’t think Eddie would actually like him if he knew. It’s been a theme from the start, and it was probably the first thing that Eddie talked about when he could finally write back.

Eddie totally said that anyone who wrote letters like that, who was that kind and clever and generous and funny, would always be someone Eddie liked. Loved. That it wouldn’t matter if X was ugly, that it wouldn’t even matter if X was a girl. That Eddie would still want to know them.

And that’s when you have those insults. When Steve was finally finally brave enough to be around Eddie. To come to Hellfire. Because Eddie had promised in the letters to teach X how to play, that he’d be so so patient because X told him that he probably wasn’t smart enough to play.

Eddie has to betray everything he’s said.

And it is specifically because Steve Harrington is anathema to Eddie.

Proof that who Steve wants to be, tries to be, is wanted, but who he is in real life, not on paper, isn’t good enough.

(Yes, Robin had to be hugged into submission to keep her from slashing Eddie’s tires)

But, tag writer whose user name I can’t recall, Steve didn’t write his last letter in the car. He dropped off the boys, went home, and wrote something longer at first. He tried to find a way to explain to Eddie that he’s trying. That he wants to be a better person who Eddie would be happy to discover is X. He writes it, and he doesn’t believe that it will ever happen. That he can ever be better.

Anyway, Steve totally gets Vecna’d in this AU, and Eddie is one of the focal points.

[plagalkey]

my lovely talented friend wrote an F1 AU fic focused on oikage's time at red bull racing!!!

[hoe4hotchner]

could i request a blurb abt asking hotch for a hug? ty! 🥺🤍

A/N: I don't know how this turned so angsty, but It's also kind of cute. Enjoy 😘.

Link to my inbox

The rain tapped lightly against the window, a soothing rhythm that usually brought you peace, but today it only mirrored the overwhelming turmoil in your head. Curled up in his armchair, you watched as the droplets raced down the glass, eyes unfocused and misty with tears. You had been sitting there for hours, the gray afternoon slowly melting into evening, lost in thoughts that weighed too heavily on your chest. A soft sob escaped your lips as you drew your knees closer to your chest, hoping the tight embrace would calm you down.

The familiar sound of the front door opening echoed through the apartment, followed by the soft rustle of keys being placed on the table. You heard Aaron's footsteps, steady and sure, as he made his way through the hallway. He paused when he saw you, sensing the quiet that was too thick to be peaceful.

“Hey,” he greeted softly, rubbing his eye to rid himself of the lingering tiredness. But you didn’t respond, didn’t move, eyes still trained on the rain-soaked world outside. He frowned, worry etching into his features as he stepped closer. “What’s wrong?”

You swallowed hard, your throat tightening as the words clawed their way further away from you throat. Slowly, you turned your head to face him, letting him see the tear-streaked face you had hidden away all day. “Can I… can I have a hug?” you whispered, your voice trembling.

Aaron's expression softened instantly, his heart breaking a little at the sight of you so vulnerable. Without a word, he knelt down in front of you, gently pulling you out of the chair and into his arms. He held you close, wrapping his strong arms around you as if he could shield you from the world. You buried your face in his chest, breathing in the comforting scent of him, feeling the warmth of his embrace seep into your bones.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured against your hair, one hand rubbing soothing circles on your back while the other cradled your head.

You clung to him, feeling the tightness in your chest slowly start to ease as he held you tighter, his presence a solid anchor grounding you. The world outside might have been cold and gray, but here, in his arms, you found a warmth that made everything just a little more bearable.

Consider linking or reblogging if you enjoy my work.... I will kiss you on the forehead as a thanks ;)

[keeryd]

Michelangelo ruins everything he touches, just like always. This time on purpose. It doesn’t matter… They aren’t coming back.

—Chapter 8: Walls Built Up, You Shut Down. YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT LOVE MEANS (and it’s killing me) by Writing_In_Denial (link added)

Have I talked enough of this fic? I fucking LOVE it, and chapter 8 is so far my favorite chapter from the series, of course I had to make some art for it. Seriously, if u haven’t read it, you’re missing out.

[mxfrodo]

y'all for fucking real. don't fucking write slave fics or x reader fics of aventurine's slavery??? are you guys out of your goddamn minds???

[upsidedownmvnson]

eddie’s annoyed with you when you’re not on time for hellfire.

you know he’s sensitive about starting on time, but still you were running late again. even though this time you promised.

but the mood slowly shifts to something else as time ticks on. you’re always a couple minutes late but nearly an hour? eddie is really frustrated, and his feelings are hurt. he decides to leave your character behind, the party left you alone, sleeping in a cave.

when they return to the cave later, theyre unable to save you from a bandit situation, and your character dies. eddie kinda feels bad, but you know what time the club starts.

what he doesnt expect is steve harrington bursting into the room, looking frenzied. the whole party stared at him, but he was locked on eddie. eddie approached his friend, worried about the look in steve’s eyes.

steve stood up straight, and cleared his throat. weakly he says, “something terrible happened.”

and when steve tells him about your car accident, eddie feels sick. his knees buckle, and steve has to hold him up. he’s totally disoriented by this news. his felt his heart beat pounding behind his eyes, and his ears rang loudly, barely registering the panicked talking going on around him

“theyre alive,” steve was shouting, but people weren’t letting him talk, so he had to keep shouting it over the hundred questions. they wouldnt be able to handle it. not again. not when max still hasnt woken up. “eddie? can you hear me buddy?”

but eddie was in shock. he was trying to blame himself. he was looking for the moment he somehow caused this.

“can you walk? ill drive you,” steve says, as gareth searches eddies pockets for the keys to the van. “dustin, get over here, help me get eddie to the car.”

as soon as they moving, the adrenaline starts moving through eddie’s body. he was able to break free of his friend’s aid and pick up his pace, and the three of them ran through the school and into the parking lot. the dim light steve parked by was flickering, putting a weak spotlight on eddie as he tugged the door handle on the passenger seat

“let me unlock it,” steve snapped, fumbling the keys in his hand. he dropped them, the pressure of eddie’s stare was kinda terrifying.

when they were in the car, eddie was finally alert.

“what the fuck is going on?” he snapped.

no one said anything. there was nothing they could say that would make eddie feel better, or calm down. steve sped out of the parking lot, blowing the stop sign. he shouldnt have, given the reason you were in the hospital.

eddie squeezed his eyes shut. he was wrong. he was petty and hurt and he thought you were being a dick but you were - he was gunna throw up - you were somewhere bleeding. you were laying on the asphalt after a violent car crash and he was thinking youre an asshole

“their character died,” eddie said. “we killed them.”

“its not gunna happen,” steve said, gripping the steering wheel. a statement he couldnt back up.

at the hospital, eddie barely waited for the car the stop before he was running inside, tripping over his own feet as he rushed to get to you. dustin was hot on his trail and steve was parking the car.

eddie saw nancy with her boyfriend, and when nancy saw him, she came over, putting her hands on eddies arms. dustin spoke with jonathan in the background.

“relax,” she said, “please breath. they’re okay right now. they’re in surgery, and its going well, okay?”

“wheeler?” eddie asked, eyes filling with tears he had no control over.

“it has to be fine,” nancy said. “sit with me.”

and with no other options he listened, following nancy to an uncomfortable plastic chair that squeaked when he sat. nancy held his hand over the stiff arm rests, but he didnt find any comfort. he didnt think he would until he was with you again.

jonathan sat beside nancy, giving her a sad smile and handing her a bitter coffee. he sat quietly, letting nancy give eddie her attention. dustin sat on the other side of eddie, also opting to stay quiet. what was anyone supposed to say?

honestly, the only thing eddie wanted to hear was your voice.

might rewrite this properly - its a midnight idea i had and i like it enough to post it 🥰

[buckevantommy]

i love the trope of buck leaving tommy voicemails and texts when he's angry or drunk or when the pain is too much and he just wants tommy to know this isn't some passing thing that this is a lasting love and he's never getting over him..

and one of the messages at some point in the months after their breakup goes along the lines of:

..i dunno why you didn't believe the way i cared about you was serious.. i wish you'd stuck around long enough to tell me why you were so scared, why you didn't believe in us, who hurt you.. i still love you, and i still hate you for running away, but i forgive you.. i hope you can find a way to forgive yourself.. because you deserve to have a happy ending, tommy.. you deserve to believe that it's possible for you, because it is.. i wanted to give that to you.. i wanted that for both of us..

[books-books-smolderinglooks]

Young Royals 3.06 - love of my life.. 💜

[fatuismooches]

Now I realized we're always comforting the segments since the time of their life is depressing, but we never comfort Prime himself. The one who experienced everything. Reading the Zeta fic honestly broke me, I just want to go up to Prime and hug him and pamper him and everything.

The segments are from one point in Dottore's life. One phase. They don't usually stray from the personality or actions they've had during that time. Perhaps that's why you found it easier to comfort them, as they never left that state, and you could read them better. But Prime, he is a culmination of all of them, he is them and yet he is not at the same time. He has a bit of all of them ingrained in him and yet he's not the same as them.

The more you get to know about the segments, the more you indirectly get to know about Prime as well. On the very rare occasions you get to see the segments being vulnerable, your heart aches not only for them but for Prime as well. At least the segments now have you for comfort and reassurance, but who did Dottore have back then? He had no one, only faced with the reality of your sleeping body daily. When the realization hits you, it just hurts you... really bad. Prime never shows any weakness - he's always cunning. Intimidating. Manipulative. Around you he was confident. Teasing. Bold. One could never guess how he felt all those years ago. You could have never guessed, and you know him better than anyone.

You don't even know how to bring up the topic, you imagine that even if you try he'll brush it off and change the subject. That was simply the man he was - he'd never admit to such things, at least not without a lot of nudging, (and you meant a lot.) Instead, you settle with making sure that he knows you're here now, and that you're always going to be with him. You randomly hug him throughout the day (even if he does get a bit annoyed at times.) Nuzzling your cheek on the top of his head, into the soft fluff of his hair, arms gently but firmly wrapped around him as he questions your sudden presence, shuffling through paperwork, but you remain silent as your grip tightens.

You don't even care if the position is uncomfortable, you just hold him and hope to transfer your feelings to Dottore somehow. You don't care how weak you are, if you can do something to make him less stressed you'll do it. Cooking his favorites to pampering him in the bath (the lazy way he lays on you while you wash his hair, it's almost as if he's going to crush you) to even organizing his office just the way he likes it without him knowing. You mumble sweet things into his ear while he gives you that look at the almost nauseating cheesiness, you kiss his scars and rub your hands over his calloused areas.

You don't care about anything. You just want to provide some comfort to him. It's the least you can do, after everything you've caused in the last few centuries.

[fall0utmind]

New fic!!!!!!

Let me know what you think!!

✨️WOULD YOU STILL LOVE ME IF I TOLD YOU MY DARKEST SECRETS?✨️

A rosquez medical leak AU fic

Here on AO3 (please check it out)

Below the cut for more

(Tw/ mentions of suicide, suicidal thoughts, and medication abuse - no active description)

Please read with care 🤍🤍

CHAPTER 1 - DOOMSDAY 🏍

The news drops some time in free practice at Misano. Marc has no idea how it got out or who told the media, but he knows it would be everywhere for the next week—hell, the next year.

The sun is high in the cloudless sky, beating down on Marc, and filling the air with the familiar scent of burning rubber and asphalt. He’s going for a final flying lap, trying to put in a decent time on the GP23. Pushing through the ache of his body, he toes the limit for both him and his bike. He presses on until he passes the chequered flag, finally releasing the tension he holds, unwinding like a coil.

Only once he’s driving into the garage, towards the concerned faces of his press officer and crew, he realises something is wrong. At first, he thinks that he has done something wrong on track, perhaps he pushed someone off the racing line and ruined a flyer. He mentally scrambles, racking his brain for a mistake, for any reason he may have aggrieved the fans or his colleagues. It didn’t have to be much, these days, more than in 2015 or 2016, but they still sought any reason to string him up on a cross. Just like Valentino had done so willingly, all those years ago, sacrificing Marc as a martyr to the sport so he could be a god.

He shakes himself out of his thoughts. There is a press conference later, maybe it has something to do with that. Marc hasn’t stepped a foot wrong today, he’s sure of it. No crashes, no mistakes, and no on-track battles that people like to examine and use against him. It’s only a practice session. God, he’s overthinking because he got like 4 hours of sleep last night, and this is Italy. Rossi territory. Anxious overthinking is Marc’s familiar friend these days, with so much on the line and so few people in his corner. Press conferences can be tricky in Italy but he’ll get through it, even with the hatred of a nation against him.

Marc clambers off his bike, passing his helmet to a nearby crew member. The team are tense, afraid to look him in the eyes. That’s odd for Marc, he has always had a natural air about him that draws others in and makes them feel at ease. Even Frankie, his ever-present race engineer, struggles to hold his gaze. It does nothing to put him at ease, anxiety coiling in his gut.

They run through their usual practice debrief, evaluating the bike set-up (good, today), pace (impossibly quick for the GP23, and that make Marc glow with satisfaction), and track. It is awkward and stilted, so at odds with the usual team atmosphere which Marc has come to love. The engineers and mechanics shoot the occasional pitying glance at Marc or towards his press officer, patiently waiting in the corner of the garage. Anticipation is clawing at his stomach, making nausea burn in the back of his throat. He knows something is wrong and he can barely focus on the discussion which is wrapping up around him, too panicked to pick up the threads of conversation.

After what feels like an eternity, the crew is dismissed, offering pats of congratulations, or maybe commiserations, as they disperse. Despite his tension, he feels a wave of pride rise in him, pleased with the performance he has managed so far, and grateful that he has managed to find a home within the Italian team.

Marc pushes himself out of his chair, shrugging his shoulders a couple of times, trying to ignore the persistent ache in his right arm. He shoots a tight smile at Frankie, before making his way over to the corner of the room, where the press officer awaits him, a grimace set on her face.

A quick look over one shoulder tells him Alex’s side of the garage is blissfully unaware of the tension in the other end of the room. His brother is happily chatting away to his team, hands waving around as he speaks, a trait which they both shared. Sometimes, he looks at his younger brother and feels scalding guilt at the burden he must carry due to Marc’s failure. It is nice to see him like this, carefree and at ease.

“Marc”

His thoughts are interrupted by the gentle prompting of the waiting woman, who nods to one of the private rooms. After a beat, Marc follows her, heart in his throat despite his best attempts to swallow the nerves. She sits down with a heavy sigh, prompting Marc to follow suit, gingerly sitting on the edge of his chair.

“There’s no easy way to say this Marc”

She awaits his slow nod before continuing

“There’s been a situation. Some of your hospital reports have been leaked, all we know for sure is something from around 2015. We don’t know much about what people know. Currently the media seem unaware about most of it and we would like to keep it that way.”

Marc frowns in confusion. 2015? What? I mean obviously it’s not ideal, a hospital shouldn’t ever let this kind of information reach the general public, especially not for someone as well known as him. But why is everyone walking on eggshells around him about a hospital admission, it makes no sense, at this point he’s at a hospital more often than he isn’t.

He is just about to ask what on earth she’s on about when it hits him. His heart drops like a stone. Hospital, A&E, 2015, the aftermath of Sepang and all the shit that followed. Fuck, fuck, fuck. The press officer might still be talking to him, he doesn’t know. He feels like he is underwater, blood rushing in his ears. Heart pounding so hard he can feel it in his mouth. He sees her mouth moving, but hears nothing over his own thoughts, threatening to drown him. He needs to breathe, realising a few seconds too late to take a gasp of air, grounded by a gentle hand on his arm and kind eyes staring at him with pity.

“Obviously this is unanticipated, we don’t know who leaked this information or how they came across it in the first place. Be assured that we have legal looking into it right now, and we will keep you updated. We don’t know how much people know, its possible the reporters on site today haven’t caught wind of it yet. But they shouldn’t know much, even if they have. At the moment, we have it under control. It has only just come out in the last 30 minutes, but the press conference...”

Marc doesn’t need the look that follows to grasp her meaning Be cautious and be prepared. Right, Italy. Mierda.

“It should be fine, like I said, we are working on it to make sure it was just a minor leak about your attendance to hospital. No details.”

Marc takes another deep breath. Surely no one at the hospital would be stupid enough to share such confidential information. No, no, it is just some background noise, people will think he had an accident. Needed treatment. He trusts his team to keep an eye on it, it will blow over soon enough. He will be surprised if he even gets asked about it, with little to no evidence or substance.

Either way he has to face the press at some point. Not going will just make him look more suspicious, not to mention the hefty fine he will probably receive alongside. He drags himself to his feet, shooting her a smile that is probably a bit more of a grimace and thanking her for the heads up.

She reassures him once more that they have this under control, but his mind is already on another track. He needs a quick shower and to mentally prepare himself for the possibility of nosy reporters.

*

Marc is restless. Ten minutes into the press conference, he feels he’s still waiting for the other shoe to drop. He can tell the others have noticed. Pecco keeps shooting him little glances, and at one point he swears that the younger aborts a small movement towards Marc’s knee, which has been bouncing continuously since they sat down.

Usually, Marc doesn’t mind press conferences too much. Realistically, nothing could be as bad as the tumultuous media circus in the years that followed 2015. And if it ever gets that bad again, he has gotten very good at shutting down and putting his PR training into practice. Despite this, Marc can’t help but feel like he’s in shark-infested water.

He’s so stuck inside his head that he barely registers the question directed his way, his head jerking up at the sound of his name.

“Scusi?”

The reporter gives a slight laugh, eyes sharp and searching.

“What do you have to say about the rumours of your hospitalisation at the end of 2015? There are some suggestions that this was more than a biking injury?”

Marc’s heart gives a little stutter. Shit. He wasn’t expecting that so quickly. For the first time, Marc begins to panic, questioning how much the world knows.

“Ah, I say do not listen to everything you hear in the media”, he shoots the reporters a cheeky grin as a light chuckle goes around the room. He feels Pecco’s eyes burning into the side of his head but does not look back, simply nodding at the facilitator to continue.

The next question is directed to Jorge, asking him about his championship chances this year, with Jorge giving the usual spiel about the team and his bike, talking about the decent lap times he put in today. It had been a good practice session for all of them, with Pecco leading into tomorrow’s sessions, followed closely by Marc, dragging every inch out of the GP23, with Jorge and Enea rounding out the top four. Sunday promised to be an interesting race, with the four of them positing similar times throughout the weekend.

Distantly, Marc registers someone asking Enea about working with Pecco, as the current world champion, comparing his times to the other Italian rider, as if they haven’t been working together for over a year already. Marc almost scoffs. Clearly, some journalists needed new material.

Marc’s attention is drawn to a small commotion in the corner of the room, nearest the exit. He watches as his brother enters the room, wide eyes brimming with concern. Fuck. That isn’t good, Alex must know now. Had something else happened? He has faith in his team to keep this on the down low and prevent it all from blowing up in Marc’s face, but it doesn’t stop the flash of concern shooting through him.

“And Marc another question for you”

Well, so much for that. His head whips around at the reporter's tone, searching the crowd to find the speaker. That tone is never a good thing. The same they use when they are going to ask a hurtful question about Valentino or his most recent crash on the track. He tenses in anticipation.

“Regarding the rumours of your 2015 hospital visits, there are now some reports that these visits were due to a so-called mental health crisis. Do you have anything to say about this?”

His heart stops beating. The room goes dead silent. He can feel everyone’s eyes on him, his fellow riders watching in confusion. For Marc, it is like watching a train wreck in slow motion. He looks up and catches Alex’s wide-eyed stare. He's sweating, beads rolling down the side of his neck. Shit. Fucking shit. He’s starting to think he’s not going to make it out of this press conference in one piece, torn apart by the gnashing teeth of the media.

He mentally shakes himself, unwilling to let the others see his dismay. Instead, he schools his features, wills his mouth into a flat line, and answers with his best media-trained nonchalance.

“Ah, it is nothing. No comment. This is not talking about racing; let's move on.”

This seems to wake Pecco up from his trance, tearing his gaze away from Marc and turning his attention back to the reporters. God knows what he was staring at, maybe trying to figure out if this could help him beat Marc next year, if he’s taken anything from Rossi, it would be that.

“Ah, are you going to ask us about the weekend, I would also like to talk about racing”

Some low mutters travel around the room. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He doesn’t know how they have found out, but he does know all too well that the press are like fucking vultures, circling at any sign of a kill. Alex looks like he is about to cry now, doe eyes wide and glossy, his face slack with shock and horror. Marc thinks his face might be a perfect mirror. He still doesn’t really know what’s going on, but it’s clearly worse than he had originally been told.

“Marc, following on from the previous question, it has come to light that you were admitted to A&E several times in 2015 due to suicide attempts. Do you have anything to say about this? Was this anything to do with your infamous fight with Valentino Rossi?”

Oh god, Marc is going to be sick. They went for the kill and came round for a second blow. He glances to his left. Pecco is looking at him in abject horror, his brain scrambling, trying to keep up with the carnage around him. Enea looks like his worst nightmare has come true, wide-eyed and scared, staring at Marc as if he has never seen him before. Jorge just looks confused, bafflement etched on every feature, mouth downturned.

So much for his team's plan to handle it, it has all gone to shit in a matter of minutes. He feels like someone has taken a sledgehammer to his facade, destroying everything he has made himself be. Marc knows he is taking too long to respond, his jaw slack with shock. The world is staring at him with bated breath, his biggest secret lay on the table in front of them all, ready to be dissected. He can’t breathe. He feels wild with it, oxygen-starved and desperate. He needs to get out. He needs to get out now.

He scrambles out of his chair, sending it clattering to the floor behind him, shaking the rest of the room out of their stupor. The room explodes into a cacophony of noise and camera flashes. He is going to be sick. He makes a beeline towards Alex, tugging the younger along with him whilst he flees.

“Mierda, mare puta!

They know, they know that...”

Verbalising it out loud makes a wave of nausea hit him, sending him stumbling to the nearest bathroom. He flings the door open, leans over the toilet and proceeds to throw up everything he has eaten in the last 24 hours. Alex enters behind him, muttering in rapid Catalan under his breath.

2015 took a lot from him. More than anyone could know, more than anyone was ever meant to know. Jesus, 2015 nearly took everything from him, everything from his family. It has taken him a long time to accept that part of his life. Marc retches again into the toilet bowl, resting his forehead against the cool porcelain as he blinks back tears. Alex is pacing behind him, his angry mumbles and Marc’s harsh breathing filling the silence of the room.

“How do they know, how the fuck do they know? How did anyone find out?

Joder Marc, are you ok?”

Marc lifts his head from where he’s slumped against the toilet, looking impossibly young. Alex is the one person he would do anything for, he would walk through hell and back to protect him. He is the only one who truly knows what happened in 2015, who knows the extent of the demons in Marc’s brain. Now they will have to face them again.

“No, not really.”

It’s then that Marc registers Pecco standing behind Alex, concern painted across his face. There is no chance that he hasn’t witnessed Marc losing it, with Jorge and Enea standing not far behind. There is a horrifying understanding dawning in their eyes, the realisation that the journalists had struck gold. Marc had attempted his life in 2015 and has kept it inside for almost ten years, only for the world to find out entirely against his will. Marc knows that his face paints a portrait of pain and regret. It unsettles the others, gazing into a familiar face but seeing a whole dimension that was perhaps always there, if anyone had paid attention. All this pain is tucked up inside him in a neat little package, ripped open for greedy eyes to see. Pecco looks away, eyes guilty.

Marc feels like he’s been punched in the stomach, gasping for air that just won’t come. The other pilots probably think he is pathetic. He doesn’t think he can deal with another reason for the others to hate him. As much as he tries to rise above it, he loathes that his colleagues cannot bring themselves to like him. He cannot quite put a name to the emotions on Pecco’s face, Jorge’s sadness and Enea’s hurt are much easier to read. Perhaps it is disgust. And isn’t that ironic, the prodigy looking at him, disgusted by the consequences of Vale's war on Marc?

Marc mentally berates himself for giving so much away. He forces his eyes to go blank, pulling on the mask which he so often wears once more. He accepts the hand Alex offers him; his brother pulling him to his feet and bearing his weight as they push past Pecco. Marc keeps his eyes on the floor, unable to meet the pitying faces of Martin and Bastianini. Instead, he lets Alex guide them back to their motorhome in silence.

[steddiehyperfixation]

how to stay with you (steddie ficlet)

written for @steddieangstyaugust day 29: future, and also inspired by this post i saw ages ago

1474 words | rated t | cw: unhappy ending

When Steve and Eddie first got together, they had been young and in love and that’s all that had mattered. At 19 and 20 the realities of the future seemed so far away, so caught up in each other in each present moment that it almost felt like they would never grow up, like time would never pass and they would never have anything to worry about. Conversations of ‘what ifs’ and potential issues were brushed aside, anything that wasn’t an immediate problem dismissed with a kiss and a carefree “we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” There was no need for premature concern when surely nothing would ever be so big as to come between them. Because they were it for each other, weren’t they? They were forever, and forever seemed so easy when forever was young.

But the time did pass and they did grow up, and now the bridges they thought they’d never come to are looming before them, fast approaching.

At 25 and 26, they sit at the dinner table in the one-bedroom apartment they’ve lived in for years and Eddie tells Steve about the life-changing phone call he just received. The Hollywood music producer he’s been in sporadic contact with finally wants to finalize a plan and work with Eddie’s band officially, and Eddie is so excited he’s practically vibrating as he rambles to Steve about the album he’ll make and the tours he might go on and how they’re gonna have to start looking for places in LA soon because they have to be local and the producer wants to get started on this by the end of next month. He expects Steve to be excited too, to match his grin and maybe hold hands and bounce around the kitchen with him, but his boyfriend’s expression only falls further and further into a frown with every word Eddie speaks.

“Eddie-” Steve interrupts him, his voice far too serious. “I don’t want to move to LA.”

Eddie’s buzzing energy freezes, stopping short. “What?”

Steve repeats, “I don’t want to move to LA.”

“But-” Eddie frowns. “I was always going to move to LA, that was always my plan. You knew that.”

“Yeah, I-I know. But we always said we’d just cross that bridge when we came to it.”

“Well, we’re coming to it now. So, why don’t you want to move?”

“I don’t want to uproot our life here. And I don’t want to end up having to wait around in a strange city while you’re off on tours all the time.”

“You wouldn’t, you’d come with me.”

Steve shakes his head. “I can’t live like that. And what about when we have kids? That’s no way to-”

“Wait, Steve-” It’s Eddie’s turn to interrupt, all trace of his previous excitement gone, having dropped like a stone into his gut instead. “I don’t want kids. Like, ever.”

Something fractures in Steve’s eyes as he stares at him, almost hurt. “What? Why did you never say anything? You knew- I’ve always wanted kids, Eddie, you’ve always known that.”

“Yeah, I know, I just-” Eddie’s mouth feels too dry and his tongue too heavy as he wets his lips and shrugs guiltily. “I mean, we always said we’d just cr-”

“-cross that bridge when we came to it, yeah,” Steve sighs, a dejected sort of exhale that slouches in his shoulder as if the full weight of this conversation has suddenly settled upon them.

Eddie feels it too, feels them sinking somewhere they can’t come back from. “Is that, uh- is that a dealbreaker for you?”

“Kind of, yeah,” Steve admits, and he looks at Eddie like it devastates him to do so, emotion swimming in his eyes and straining his voice. “Is me not wanting to move to LA a dealbreaker for you?”

Eddie swallows thickly. “Kind of, yeah.”

“Would you ever change your mind?” Steve asks, a last ditch hope. “About kids, or any of it?”

“No,” Eddie says; though he hates to watch the last of the light drain from Steve’s face, he can’t lie to him. “Would you?”

“No,” Steve answers in a barely managed whisper.

Eddie takes a deep breath, and it shakes. His vision blurs. He says, “Then this isn’t going to work, is it?”

Steve stares at him with glassy eyes, like he’s watching Eddie become a ghost right in front of him. His voice breaks as he speaks, “You mean we’re not going to work.”

“Yeah…” Eddie confirms, and it shatters his heart. “I’m so sorry, Stevie.” He reaches for Steve’s hands across the table. “I love you more than anything, I really do, but I won’t give up on my dream, and I can’t ask you to give up on yours either.”

“No you’re right.” Steve breath shudders. His eyes fall to their joined hands and he blinks rapidly, the way he does when he’s trying hard not to cry. He squeezes Eddie’s hands tight, desperate for something to hold on to even as he agrees, “We want different things, incompatible things. I don’t want to hold you back.”

“Exactly…I don’t want to hold you back,” Eddie echoes in barely more than a whisper, afraid if he tries to speak any louder he’ll break into tears.

Steve does break then, a sob escaping from his throat as if it’d clawed its way free, tears spilling from his eyes. Such a cry activates an instinct in Eddie that sends him leaping to his feet and pulling Steve into a hug within seconds.

“I’m so sorry,” he says again. His chest aches and he really wishes this wasn’t happening, hates that he knows that it has to.

“Me too,” Steve manages, head buried in Eddie’s shoulder. There’s no bitterness in it, only heavy acceptance. He knows it too.

They both know there’s no solving this, no compromise they could find that wouldn’t inevitably fester into resentment and regret. Because Steve wants to settle down and Eddie wants to fly - but Eddie isn’t built for the ground, nor is Steve for the sky, and there’s no common place left between them where they could both survive. It’s over.

So they mourn together while they still have each other to take comfort in, clinging tight to what they’re losing, just one last time. Eddie's crying now too, his tears streaming silently down his cheeks in counterbalance to Steve’s sniffly mumbling.

“I don't want to lose you,” Steve mutters. “Are you sure? Are you sure?”

And Eddie cries quietly into the crook of his neck that he doesn't want to lose him either, and he's sorry, so sorry.

When the worst of their sobs subside, they reach the bargaining stage of their grief, and they pull apart just enough to talk properly while still holding onto each other. Eddie swears he'll keep in touch, says he still wants to be a part of Steve's life. Steve makes him promise to send him postcards of all the amazing places he'll go to on tours and to invite him to shows whenever he's nearby. Eddie tells him to invite him to the wedding when - when, he emphasizes as Steve starts to shake his head - Steve falls in love again and finds someone who can give him the life he wants.

At that, Steve sniffles out a laugh, wet and humorless. “That would be cruel,” he says.

“I never said I’d actually show up,” Eddie clarifies, giving an equally complicated smile and bringing a hand up to cup his cheek. “I just want to know. I want to know that you're happy, even if it can't be with me.”

Steve closes his eyes - another tear or two leaks out - and turns his face into Eddie's hand. In a whisper, he agrees, “Okay.”

They decide it would be best for Eddie to leave as soon as possible. Since they've already concluded they won't last, there's no reason for them to stay in the same apartment even just one more night. It would only hurt more in the end.

With a sort of dissociated detachment, Eddie packs up his things, separating his life from Steve’s one piece of clothing and decorations at a time. It's all he can do not to start crying again.

As Eddie turns to leave for the last time, Steve grabs his arm, impulsive, desperate, and begs him for one more kiss. So Eddie turns around and indulges him. He tastes the salt of their tears on their lips, clutching at Steve's waist and tangling a hand in his hair as they both kiss each other like they know they never will again. Eddie savors every bitter taste, memorizes every sweet feeling.

And then they’re out of time and Eddie's out the door, his whole future ahead of him and his heart cracked right in half.

[phoenixcatch7]

Loz fandom stop being angsty and give the daydreaming kids on big fun adventures with a cool glowing sword some actual whimsy and joy challenge

[withthewindinherfootsteps]

So we know that Wei Wuxian's treatment after his death was horrible. Even if nothing could impact him directly, there was still neverending slander, hatred, misinformation, theft...

But, for a while after he died, the sects did try to impact him directly – namely, frequently trying to resummon his soul. And today I'll explore the possible reasons for this, their likelihoods, and why I'm so, so thankful that Wei Wuxian's soul managed to resist the summons. Because, spoiler alert (or, you know. maybe not)... none of them are good.

(Long meta ahead)

In my opinion, there are four likely motivations for this: confinement, coercion, torment, and potentially destruction.

Out of all of these, confinement is probably the most likely motivation, at least for most sects (Jins and Jiangs excluded, though it was likely what the Jin sect said their motivations were – but I'll get to them later). This one is the most simple – we know spirit-trapping pouches exist, and we know the sects also placed 120 stone beasts on the Burial Mounds to prevent Wei Wuxian's soul from escaping. Therefore, this seems to be the most likely motivation – and fortunately for Wei Wuxian, probably also the best case scenario, though it still certainly isn't a good one.

For the second, coercion – this is where the Jin sect come in (more specifically Jin Guangshan with the help of Jin Guangyao). Due to their wealth and resources, they're likely the sect who played the largest role in the soul-summoning rituals. We know what they're willing to do to try to gain power – keeping Wen Ning under the pretence he was burned to death and trying to control him with the nails, and working with and helping Xue Yang torture people to help him refine his demonic cultivation, in order to have the Yin hufu fixed. Along with working with many other cultivators, alongside Xue Yang – Jin Guangshan really, really wanted that seal.

And so, Jin GuangShan sought after all those who imitated Wei WuXian in cultivating the ghostly path and gathered them under his rule. He spent a great amount of money and resources and these people, ordering them to study and analyze the structure of the Tiger Seal in secrecy so that they could replicate and restore it. - Villainous Friends extra, EXR

(Note that working with these cultivators very likely happened after Wei Wuxian's soul had failed to be summoned, since this happens some time after Wei Wuxian's death, whereas the soul-summoning ceromonies presumably started happening very close to it.)

In the previous paragraph, he's also quoted as having 'lusted after' the Yin hufu, which we already knew but it's nice to have a direct quote as evidence.

Now, would Wei WuXian willingly work with the Jin sect in doing this? No. We know that, and, given Wei Wuxian's actions in his first life (refusing to hand over the Tally, not being afraid to stand up to the sects, etc), I’m pretty sure Jin Guangshan knows that, too:

He beat around the bush a couple of times, using all his skills, yet Wei WuXian didn’t give in no matter what, and it made him run into a bunch of obstacles. - Villainous Friends extra, EXR

So this could actually make things go two ways. One, I'm wrong and that wasn't actually part of the Jin sect's motivations, since they know they wouldn't be able to control him (and in that case, had they managed to summon him, I could imagine them putting him in a spirit-trapping pouch and doing something similar to what Jin Guangyao did to Nie Mingjue's head. Which, also, not good). Two, it was a part of their motivations, and they hoped to find a way around that. After all, there are other guidao users out there now, and Wei Wuxian would now be a gui*. Also, cultivators can obviously harm ghosts – see the very existence of Night Hunts, and I'd include Xue Yang's talisman-caused destruction of A-Qing as well (while he isn't a traditional cultivator, talismans can be used by everyone).

Now, would either of these methods actually work? I'm inclined to think not really (and I expand on the former method in a note below). Would that stop Jin Guangshan/Jin Guangyao/the cultivators they employ from trying? Especially considering Jin Guangshan's lust for power?

I'm inclined to think no, too.

For the third, look no further than Jiang Cheng's reputation of capturing and torturing demonic cultivators after Wei Wuxian's death, due to thinking they could be him. And this does happen – Jin Ling knows and talks about it, and there's not real motivation for him to negatively lie about someone he loves. Also, when they come across each other at Dafan Mountain, we're told this in Jiang Cheng's inner voice:

A moment ago, Jiang Cheng was certain that this person was Wei WuXian, and all of the blood in his body started to boil. Yet, now, Zidian was clearly telling him that he wasn’t. Zidian definitely wouldn’t deceive him or make a mistake, so he quickly calmed himself and thought, this doesn’t mean anything. I should first find an excuse to take him back and use every possible method to get information out of him. It’s impossible for him to not confess anything or give himself away. I’ve done things like this in the past anyways. - MDZS Chapter 10, EXR translation

This mainly shows that he's tortured people before, rather than that he's tortured people because he thinks they're Wei Wuxian, but this reason is confirmed by Jin Ling in Chapter 24. Of course, the reason is also mentioned in this chapter, and there are other moments in the chapter that illustrate my point better**, but they come from second-hand sources which I know are easier to deny. Do take note of Jiang Cheng's expression both times he comes across 'Mo Xuanyu' (after he suspects he's Wei Wuxian) in Book One***, though:

After a moment, the corners of Jiang Cheng’s lips pulled into a twisted smile. His left hand started to unconsciously stroke the ring [Zidian] again. He spoke softly, “… Well, well. So you’re back?” - Chapter 10, EXR Although his face had always been clouded, marked with arrogance and satire, it seemed as if every corner of it had come alive. It was difficult to determine whether it was vengeful wrath, fathomless hatred, or raving ecstasy. - Chapter 23, EXR

This does seem to line up with what people say his attitude to Wei Wuxian is – there doesn't seem to be any happiness at seeing him again at all. The only time a word that could suggest that ('ecstasy') is used, it's accompanied by 'raving', and considering the context and the other possibilities of his expression, it's... probably not due to happiness at being reunited.

So, considering 1) this, 2) his contribution to the Siege specifically intended to kill Wei Wuxian, and 3) that at the time of frequent soul-summoning Jiang Yanli's death would be even closer for him, I feel pretty confident in saying that yes, this is likely a motivation for the Jiang sect in trying to re-summon Wei Wuxian's soul after his death. And, as mentioned earlier, cultivators can harm ghosts (and we know Zidian is able to remove souls posessing a body from that body, and that Jiang Cheng used Zidian on 'Mo Xuanyu' in Chapter 10. If it wasn't able to restrain/harm ghosts, or other methods weren't able to, why would he risk Wei Wuxian's soul escaping?).

And finally, option four: destruction. We're heading into much more speculative territory here, so don't consider this on par with the first three. But consider this:

We know there are some spells, like Xue Yang's talisman used on A-Qing and the body-offering ritual, that can ruin the returning soul’s reincarnation cycle by destroying it. Therefore, soul destruction is possible.

The 'main'/supposed reason for summoning Wei Wuxian's soul back is to stop the "cultivation world, or even all of mortal land" from being "faced with the most insane damnation and revenge, sinking into nothing but chaos and despair" when Wei Wuxian inevitably returns. While, as mentioned above, I severely doubt this is the motivation for certain sects – and to me is likely a rumour which the Jins (again, especially Jin Guangsha) fanned the flames of to justify summoning Wei Wuxian back for their own purposes**** – there are other sects which would take it more seriously.

Although likely disrespectful, people already thought it served Wei Wuxian right to die without his body intact by the time of the second siege – something believed to negatively affect your reincarnation in your next life*****. This is only the logical next step, and I'm pretty sure the vast majority of people would believe that, again, it would serve Wei Wuxian right, or would at least lead to less harm of the world in the long run.

For these reasons, I could definitely see this as an option for some sects, especially the sects who consider themselves more 'righteous' (cough cough the Nies under Nie Mingjue cough cough). After all, evil is evil and good is good, and the evil deserve what's coming to them. And what better way to prevent that than from preventing his soul from returning at all? So for the Nie sect – and likely some of the smaller sects involved in the Siege, since among them, additudes probably vary – yes, I do think it could be a motivation.

I’m not as sure about the Lans being willing to go this far, and that’s largely for two reasons. One, Lan Wangji’s presence and his relationship to Lan Xichen, who does (not always, but he does) let this affect how he treats Wei Wuxian. An example of this is that, when Wei Wuxian's return is made public, Lan Xichen does let him hide and shelter at the Cloud Recesses instead of trying to pursue him, likely majorly due to Lan Wangji. I'd argue that the aftermath of the Nightless City also acts as an example of this, although it definitely isn't perfect. But though he, Lan Qiren and the 33 elders do come to find Lan Wangji and do not let him continue to shelter Wei Wuxian (after they see Lan Wangji's feelings), Lan Xichen doesn't use this opportunity to kill/capture Wei Wuxian, despite Lan Wangji being in a worse condition due to having fought 33 elders, Wei Wuxian being catatonic, and Lan Qiren likely supporting this outcome (especially considering he was the one who led the Lan sect in the Siege – chapter 68, Wei Wuxian's POV). And he did let Lan Wangji take Wei Wuxian back to the Burial Mounds after:

After he went out of his way to send you back to Burial Mound and returned in such low spirits to receive his punishment, how long he kneeled before the Wall of Rules! - Chapter 99, EXR

Again, this was right after the Nightless City massacre – there isn't any goodwill towards Wei Wuxian at this point in time.

Of course, the Lan sect did participate in the siege after Lan Xichen knew of Lan Wangji's feelings towards Wei Wuxian, which Lan Xichen was no doubt a part of (although Lan Qiren lead the Lan sect in the siege, Lan XIchen had to have at least known/given his support, if not participated.) And it should be considered that Lan Xichen letting Wei Wuxian shelter at the Cloud Recesses was after Wei Wuxian had been back for a while, and had not caused the downfall of the Cultivation World, like many suspected he would after his death. And of course, as stated previously, his handling of the aftermath of Nightless City wasn't perfect either (though please note that his main motive here was to protect Lan Wangji from being potentially executed, rather than anything about Wei Wuxian himself). So caring about Lan Wangji doesn't mean he won't harm Wei Wuxian. But I do think he could find bringing Wei Wuxian's soul back to completely destroy it a bit excessive. There is, though, the chance that the elders of the Lan Sect would react to this differently, and of course they would have a sway on both Lan Xichen and the Lan sect as well.

The second reason is smaller, but there seems to be more focus in the Lan sect than in others when it comes to letting ghosts rest peacefully/helping them move on. And that could definitely lead to more resistance to the idea of summoning a soul back to destroy it as well, which could especially impact the elders. So I'd assume that the Lan sect would be the most likely sect to summon Wei Wuxian's soul back just for confinement, or just for some way of making sure any resentment is disippated, his spirit moves on, and he can't cause more harm to the world (eg via Inquiry)******. Not that he would or does as a ghost or as a reborn person, but that's unfortunately not relevant to this.

But yes, as a motivation for the Nie Mingjue-led Nie sect? Absolutely.

So, these are the main motives I suspect to be behind the attempted summoning of Wei Wuxian's soul after his death (and if I've missed any, please let me know – I'd love to have a discussion). And, of course, none of them lead to anywhere good. Because of course it wasn’t enough to besiege Wei Wuxian, murder the 50 non-combatants he was responsible for (and throwing them into the blood pit as a mark of disrespect because why not?), and lead to his death via him getting torn apart. It wasn’t enough to steal all his inventions, and use them commonly while still slandering him with no reprieve – or to steal his notes and give them to people like Xue Yang to study (Villainous Friends, again) and to use for their own, extremely extremely harmful, purposes. Of course, the cultivation world has to try to harm Wei Wuxian after death as well ((:

We don't know whether Wei Wuxian rejecting the summoning ceremonies was conscious or unconscious, but if it was the former, these are very likely reasons he refused to return in this way. If it was unconscious – for example, maybe during the frequent soul-summons his soul was in a weakened state due to him dying from a backlash of resentful energy and getting torn apart, and it healed over time but not before the soul-summoning rituals stopped – well, I can only be thankful.

Finally, let me leave you on the thought that – although it may well have happened since we don't spend much time in the immediate aftermath of the Sunshot campaign – there isn't even any textual mention of this happening to Wen Ruohan. Who, while not being a guidao user, was still very dangerous, still an extremely powerful cultivator, and still had a lot of reason to feel resentment. So.

:')

Thank you for reading!

--

*Considering what we see of how Wei Wuxian's guidao functions – redirecting the ghosts'/corpses' resentment into doing something they'd want to do, eg attacking people, and directing it towards a target – I'm not sure using it to force a spirit to do something 1) extremely specific, and 2) explicitly against their will would actually work. Iirc the closest thing we get to this in text is Wei Wuxian using the corpses of Wens to attack other Wens in the Sunshot Campaign, but he's still just directing their resentment to a target of his choice, and fierce corpses do tend to be on the less concious side of things (hence why Wei Wuxian had to awaken Wen Ning's consciousness). Considering how Wen Ning attacks Wei Wuxian and the Burial Mound Wens before his consciousness had fully awoken, I... really don't think those fierce corpses were able to differentiate (or didn't care).

Meanwhile, ghosts seem to be a bit more in control of themselves – see A-Qing, and Wei Wuxian's own descriptions of his ghost self.

That, alongside ghost!Wei Wuxian being able to resist his soul-summoning and the fact that pretty much all of the new guidao users are a lot weaker than he was, does make me think that this this wouldn't work. I do wonder about Xue Yang, since his methods are pretty different as well, but he's more of a modao user than a guidao user (he controls living corpses rather than dead people) and I don't think you can insert physical nails into ghosts?? Though if he was specifically instructed to figure out some way to control ghost!Wei Wuxian (who's probably kept in a spirit-trapping pouch in this scenario), he might be able to do something at least. Though also he was also struggling to piece Xiao Xingchen's ghost soul back together, so he may struggle with those areas?

Well, whatever the potential outcome, I'm so so happy once again that Wei Wuxian's soul managed to resist the soul-summonings...

**Mainly this:

Everyone in the cultivation world knew that the young leader of the Jiang Clan watched out for Wei WuXian in an almost crazed manner. He would rather catch the wrong person than let go of any possibility, and took anyone who seemed like they held the soul of Wei WuXian away to the YunmengJiang Sect, inflicting severe torture on his victim. If he wanted to take someone back, the opposition would surely lose half of their life. - Chapter 10, EXR

But I have heard people say 'you can't prove that it's just more rumours' before, and I wanted my evidence to be as watertight as possible.

(And, off-topic... isn't it really sad how Jiang Cheng, in the present day, is described as young? Because, for a clan leader, he is. And another thing he is, is close in age to Wei Wuxian – who was killed 13 whole years prior :') )

***And do note that the only other time they run into each other before Wei Wuxian's identity is revealed to the world apart from this is their brief interaction at Jinlintai, where he can't just act however he wants. The next time they run into each other after it, Jiang Cheng is literally taking part in another siege against him, and still extremely hostile ("surrounded by hostile energy, face insidious, staring straight at him" – from EXR chapter 60). Then he loses his spiritual powers and can't do anything. By the time he regains his powers, Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji and the Wen remnants' corpses have saved everyone during the Second Siege, and though public opinion hasn't properly shifted quite yet, it will soon after Sisi and Bicao tell the story of Jin Guangyao, and voila, a new scapegoat (do note that he doesn't completely bar Wei Wuxian from entering Lotus Pier after the Second Siege, though). Plus, throughout it all, Lan Wangji is still constantly present, which makes it hard for Jiang Cheng to really do anything. And then he's finally faced with the Golden Core reveal, which does alter his motivations towards Wei Wuxian (obviously the resentment is still there – read chapter 102 – but it's also mixed with other complex emotions, and he seems to start being able to move away from that a little in Chapter 103). I still definitely wouldn't describe Jiang Cheng's attitude towards him as positive, but it isn't at the point it was at the start of the novel (eg Chapter 10).

But even if his attitude does change, or would for whatever other reason apart from the reveal, that still doesn't change an initial motivation so isn't relevant to this meta. We know his intentions at the start.

****It's also possible they may have originated it, but I think WWX's reputation was bad enough for it to form naturally. Though you can trace a major part of that back to them, too.

*****That belief isn't outright stated in MDZS, but the fact people are specifically talking about the status of WWX's body in the aftermath of his death suggests that this belief does have some grounding in the MDZS universe, at least? And we know MXTX has included it in TGCF (though that doesn't mean it's definitely in MDZS), so she has used it in her works. If this isn't the case in the MDZS universe I am sorry (although that could also mean there's less importance placed on not disturbing the reincarnation cycle in the world of MDZS...? Which would work towards my original argument) – I don't want to spread misinformation that something is definitely true, I just think there's evidence to suggest it is true, which isn't the same thing.

******Again, I think this would depend on who ends up having more influence over who in the Lan sect. After all, normal resentful spirits only do what they do because of their resentment in death, whereas Wei Wuxian is 'dangerous' because of who everyone thinks he was in life – so him being reborn naturally could also 'cause a lot of harm to the world' during the time period this version of him would live in, unlike the resentful ghosts they appease. This could definitely lead to many advocating for confinement, I think.

[thechy-fychannel]

I have finally decided to shamelessly (I feel nothing but shame at any attention at all) promote my hilson fics on here 💕

Organized from shortest to longest:

it's gone to the dogs in my mind (1.5k)(T+)

"He gets more visitors in his subconscious as he's coming off the vicodin than he did when he was on it. Every night, a different visitor in between the excruciating hours of consciousness." A glimpse into a series of dreams that House has as he's detoxing after he first gets to Mayfield.

let me be the wallpaper that papers up your room (2.9k)(E)

“I'll meet you at your place at 8.” He knew when he said it that he wasn't just coming over for dinner. Takes place at the end of Season 8, Episode 2 after Wilson punches House in the face.

and I long for this mirrored perspective (3.3k) (GA)

"Because something about him beckons to you, drawing you in. Morons are boring, you're repelled by morons. You're the opposite of repelled by the warm shades of brown and a cold type of ache coming from this handsome stranger." House spots Wilson for the first time at a conference in New Orleans and stalks him like the creep he is.

caught you hiding in the smoke (3.3k)(E)

“Look at me, House.” His pretty blue eyes opened and looked up at her with the kind of intensity that she could only describe as devotion. Like she was something holy. “Good. Look at you, barely holding on. If only he could see you like this…”

House is distracted while making out with Cuddy. The reason why isn't at all surprising, but Cuddy's reaction to it is.

dot line dot (4.2k)(E)

Wilson apologized for not being there. House told him not to be, he's with his wife. That's where he's supposed to be. And yet Wilson wanted him. And House was going to make him prove that. He was going to force him to wreck his own marriage rather than have the decency to do it for him. The bastard. House uses his oral fixation to his advantage when he refuses to initiate an affair with Wilson after he marries Bonnie. Wilson wants to have his cake and eat it too and House is a petty bitch about it.

on my way to believing (6k)(E)

“I like what this says about you, Wilson.” Wilson knows what this says about him— that the only piece of furniture that he could pick out himself was something House alone would use. He knows it says that the only thing inside him that matters is the man sitting on that bench.

get in line for the masquerade (7.1k)(M)

5 times people find out about House and Wilson's secret relationship and the 1 time they decide to stop keeping it a secret.

my tongue has now become a platform for your lies (12k)(E)

5 times Wilson cheats with House, + the 1 time they get caught.

love is the coal (19.5k)(E)

"House, I can't just up and leave-” “Yes, you can. I already talked to Cuddy about it.” “You already—” Wilson blanched, “House, I told you not to say anything to her about what's going on. Great, this is just great. Now my boss knows that I'm-” “That you're going through a hard time right now. That you're stressed and overworked and burnt out. She was the one who suggested we go on a vacation. It really wasn't even a suggestion, she practically demanded that I whisk you away to tropical paradise somewhere and fuck you until your legs stop working.” Wilson is struggling, House would do anything in the world to help him, and Cuddy is a wonderful boss. House and Wilson take a much needed vacation and spend the entire thing on top of each other.

puppies, tiramisu, and other things james wilson loves (20.9k)(E)

He looked over at Wilson, about to lament to him about the lack of creativity at this animal shelter when he was met with a big toothy grin. “What?” Wilson shook his head, but his smile grew to the point of being painful. “Nothing. I just- I didn't expect you to be a small dog kind of guy.” “I'm—” House looked back at the dog and then at Wilson. “I'm not. I was just giving it some attention.” “I think you're giving it a home, House.” A fic about them adopting a dog that House ends up falling in love with. And then he does something stupid and they have kinky sex about it.

[n30draws]

Apologies and Regrets.

based on the fic ”Deep Dark Depravity” by EvesApplePie on AO3❣️