#also i was reading comments on this fic(its from a couple years ago)

[skitskatdacat63]

I looked forward in a fic I'm reading bcs the authors note was like "it feels bittersweet to finish this fic off" and the last chapter is titled "a year later" I DONT WANNNAAAAAAA STOP WHAT HAPPENS THAT REQUIRES A YEAR LATER UPDATE

[ellieslaces]

NOTHING’S GONNA HURT YOU, BABY.

featuring: leon kennedy x fem!agent!reader x ashley graham

synopsis: ashley graham's biggest weakness is attractive people, especially kind, attractive people. she was not expecting to be saved by two of the hottest, kindest people she'd ever met, much less to end up crushing on the both of them

content warnings: harsh language; mentions of violence; tension; lots of flirtatious banter; ashley shooting her shot for an entire fic basically; mentions of reader being bisexual; light smut; kissing (f!f & f!m); one bed trope; forced proximity; no real smut bc idk how to write a threesome :(

notes: takes place on the way back from Spain (technically post RE4R); one bed-ish trope (r&leon share a bed, and a room with ashley); ashley is sort of confused about her sexuality; semi-established relationship (r&leon); really more of a sibling dynamic between ashley and leon (it sounds weird, but its balanced in the actual fic, i promise)

word count: 6.13k (i’m so sorry)

chloe talks: was this entirely inspired by @postersofleon ? yeah, i read this post a week or so ago and i'm losin' sleep over it. so full credits to @postersofleon for the plot! luv their lil' drabble :) also, sorry this isn't more of a threesome fic. if it were a triple female threesome, i could work with that, but add a dick into it, i'm clueless. anyways, enjoy ashley fumbling for this whole fic (luv her, i just can't help embarrassing her shes so cute). also, please appreciate this, i wrote around 80% of this while i was supposed to be studying for an exam. that’s on adhd and procrastination :)

now playing: Nohings Gonna Hurt You Baby; Cigarettes After Sex

It is entirely possible that blondes were, indeed, your weakness. Sure, over the years, you'd come to realize there was something especially alluring about lighter hair - possibly the way it reminded you of the sun, or how each strand looked like spun gold. Although, what seemed to seal your fate was the ever dangerous pairing of blonde hair and blue eyes. Oh, how alluring and damning was the color of icy blue coupled with silvery, silken strands.

For a time, you believed your weakness was encompassed only within your field partner, Leon S. Kennedy. God, how handsome was that agent. Not only handsome, but brave, and kind - awkwardly so, but it really is the principle of the thing. It was painstakingly obvious to everyone, other than Leon it seemed, that you were completely and forlornly in love with him. It seemed you were equally as blind to the evidence that Leon Kennedy was also miserably in love with you.

But the one person who noticed it upon first glance was Ashley Graham. Not only for the clear obviousness of the situation, but because the feeling was entirely, and unfortunately mutual. And it was this girl who also awoke the realization within you that Leon was not the only blonde-haired, blue-eyed person you found enticing.

Though, you were not the only one in this clandestine triad who had an impending weakness for certain types of people. No, you were not, Ashley had an Achilles heel for graciously kind people. Not just kind, but attractive. Not in a shallow or superficial way, but to say more that a person would catch her eye. She had no pre-existing physical type - no particular hair color, eye color, or even height preference. Just that they be kind. And much to the First Daughter's dismay, you were both horribly kind. In your own respective ways, of course.

Leon — as aforementioned — was awkwardly kind, despite how well he meant. He never knew exactly how to word his concern, or how to come about comforting someone. It was usually said in simple phrases such as “you okay?” or in way of one of many snarky comments he had stored in the deep recesses of his mind. Ashley thought he was funny; sometimes.

You, on the other hand, were painfully sweet to her. Always reassuring her that she was okay, and you were going to keep her safe. Field medic, that’s how Leon explained your role in her rescue. You were there to keep her and Leon healthy and in one piece, which you were startlingly good at. Any bruise or cut she procured was immediately treated by your sweet disposition and skilled hands. She liked how gentle you were with her.

So yes, Leon was kind in an awkward manner, and you were kind in a practical sense. And that devastating combination was her inevitable downfall.

From the moment you and Leon found her in that church, she knew she was fucked. Because, how could people look that good while doing the sort of jobs you had? There was no way, no way she would ever be able to form coherent sentences around you two. But, somehow, by some miracle, she got on with you both quite well. Despite the obvious moments of third-wheel-ism because you and Leon were so close.

There where multiple reoccurring occasions where Ashley suspected the pair of you may be together. Or at least fucking on the side. Because no two people who are just partners have that dynamic. The constant tension, the way Leon could be protective or even overbearing sometimes. The way you would rush to his side to patch up his wounds — no matter how small and minuscule they were — after a fight. Sometimes, despite how endearing it could be, Ashley was annoyed. Sure, you two had known each other for an extended period of time and had just met Ashley that day. But, it became so aggravating when you would consult each other without the inclusion of Ashley.

Many times you would apologize to her, expressing how sorry you were for leaving her out of conversations or hypothetical battle plans. It wasn’t that either of you thought she was stupid or couldn’t handle it. No, it was more along the lines that you were used to it just being the two of you. There was rarely ever a third party involved — other than Hunnigan chatting away in your ear pieces of course — in these types of situations.

Ashely was smitten, to put it lightly. She’d made several attempts to quote-unquote ‘shoot her shot’ with Leon. Little comments of how brave he was, how thankful she was for his saving her. Even calling him her ‘hero’ on one occasion or another. His name had posted permanent residence in her vocabulary it seemed.

However, her means of flattery with you was completely different. She was a little more bold with you, seeing as you were more of an open person than Leon was. She partook in the cliche, yet never failing flirtatious mannerisms — simple touches, giggling at your jokes, or simply sticking to your side in dangerous situations. It wasn’t that you didn’t notice, no, you just turned a conscious blind eye to it all. Ashley was a college girl, a sorority girl, a privileged girl. She was probably used to using flattery to get what she wanted, to gain the attention she so desperately thrived on.

Though as your time in the hostile Spanish village went on, you came to realize that it wasn’t superficial, Ashley’s flattery toward you and your field partner. Absolutely not, far from it. You realized after Leon had carried her to Luis’ laboratory and you managed to get the machine working to expel the parasite from her body, that Ashley was totally and completely smitten with the pair of you. She was attached in the worst way. And that would be your inevitable downfall.

Leon was consciously blind to it. Your partner — no matter his selfless tendencies and his awkwardly kind nature — was melancholic. He had a firm belief he was predestined to be miserable. That there was always another shoe waiting to drop. He didn’t deserve happiness, peace, love, a good life. So, he ignored it. He ignored how Ashley was equally as taken with him as she was with you. He didn’t bring it up, he didn’t even act like he noticed. Oh, but you did.

You saw the attachment so clearly by the time the three of you had managed to escape the crumbling island via Ada Wong’s gifted jet ski that Ashely was so attached to the pair of you. She’d offered positions on her own personal detail to you, claiming she could put a word in with her father. Denials were made, kind smiles and the shaking of heads. Too kind of an offer and you liked your jobs, is what you’d told her. That wasn’t at all what you were thinking though.

Post a Hunnigan meltdown over your earpieces, the three of you were told to stay the night in a shabby, rundown little local hotel in a larger town a couple dozen miles south of the village. Still in Spain, still tired, still craving a warm shower. One room, two beds. Great, one of you was stuck sleeping with someone. Ashely offered for one of you to have a bed to yourself, she’d sleep with the other. Not a great idea. You and Leon — having spent many awkward and difficult missions together, so this was not strange to either one of you — decided on giving Ashley a bed to herself and taking the other together

If you’d been alone, oh how your lovestruck little heart would have burst. Sharing a bed with Leon Kennedy, the object of your affection. The sole performer in your wildest — and wettest — dreams. But you weren’t alone. Ashley was in the room, a matter of feet away, in her own double sized bed.

If she hadn’t been — to be vulgar and completely honest — nothing would have stopped you from fucking him then and there. The tension between the pair of you had been growing thicker since your arrival in Spain. It was thick, painfully so, and also horrifically obvious not only to you, but yet again, to Ashley. For the longer stretch of the mission, she’d expected a grand confession at any moment. A breakdown caused by a dangerous situation that ensued a moment of emotional and even physical vulnerability. But, to her dismay and yours, that never happened. Because, above all things, Leon was professional for a lack of a better word. He wasn’t going to allow his emotions to jeopardize the mission.

And so no breakdown of emotional distress and vulnerability played out. No confession of hearts bleeding for the other were cried out. Part of you was glad it hadn’t happened that way. But the larger part of your soul which was dedicated to Leon had wished it had. You longed for the day he realized he needed you too. But, to maintain professionalism and dignity, neither of you made such admissions.

Warm showers were taken in rotation in the tiny excuse for a bathroom. The shower was small and permanently stained with grime, but really was clean as the owner swore. The shower head was one of the older ones from the seventies that made the water come out in a dribble, then a forceful rainfall that hurt your back. The toiletries provided by the hotel were small and cheap, but you were clean. That’s all that mattered.

Sans dried blood and grime, you sat on Ashley’s bed, cross legged as you patched up each one of her injuries. Ashley had been the first to shower, after a fifteen minute debate with the two of you over who should go first. She had a few bandages and exposed scrapes that needed to be re-cleaned. So, with gentle hands you did so as Leon took use of his turn to shower.

“Looks good, no signs of infection so far. But, like I said before, I can’t tell too much without the right equipment.” You reassured Ashely as you finished patching up a cut on her arm and began to put your first aid kit back together.

“Thanks,” Ashley nodded, inspecting her scrape riddled skin. Small bruises and surface cuts were beginning to make their appearance, telltale signs of the brutality the three of you had endured in that village.

“Let me know if you feel feverish or see any swelling. That could mean infection.” You offered, being kind but stern.

“‘Kay,” the girl nodded, smiling up at you as you let out a sigh, leaning back on your hands on the bed.

You looked at her, smiling softly as your head tilted to the side a little. “Need me to kiss it better?”

At this, Ashley’s eyes went wide, her cheeks dusted with pink. You felt a little bad then, you just tried to ease the tension. “S’okay, Ashley. I was just playing.” You laughed, your tone lighthearted as you placed a gentle hand on her knee with an equally gentle smile.

It seemed the touch was worst than the comment. Ashley’s entire face went aflame, her eyes wide, and large as she stared at you. An uneasy ache settled in your chest, uncertainty lingering in the air as your smile faded. The initial shock between the pair of you didn’t last long as the door to the bathroom swung open.

“Jesus, you could’ve left me some hot water.” Leon grumbled as he stepped out into the room, lips downturned and brows etched in an annoyed frown.

The three of you were now paused as Leon’s eyes fell on you and Ashely — or more-so on the hand that rested on Ashley’s knee. Reality seemed to snap into place all at once for you, yanking your hand back and standing up.

“Let me check you out.” You mumbled, clearing your throat as you picked up the first aid kit and took residence on your own bed.

“No, I’m fine. Check on Ashley,” Leon shook his head, damp blond strands sticking to his forehead.

“Already did. Just finished. Your turn, whether you like it or not.” You stated, your tone final as you looked up at Leon, brows raised.

The agent let out a huff of agitation, grumbling something indiscernible as he sat down on the bed beside you. You began to gently inspect Leon's wounds- some small, others more intense. Despite his prior hesitation to be taken care of, he was stoic about it all. He sat still, unmoving, silent as you worked to disinfect and cover each wound with fresh bandages. The silence in the room was loud, startlingly uncomfortable as you patched Leon up.

A quick glance over at Ashley as you finished bandaging a deep cut that you'd quickly stitched up on the field showed her wide eyes. Wide baby blue focused on the way your fingers gently worked, how graceful and careful they were again the alabaster tone of Leon's skin.

"Doing okay over there, blondie?” Leon inquired, a small smirk playing on his face as he spotted Ashley's startling gaze on the wounds decorating his skin. He had mistook her fascination of your hands as nervousness of his wounds. But you knew. You could tell what her gaze meant.

"Oh, yeah. M'fine." Ashley recovered very quickly, to your surprise. Well, maybe it wasn't just your hands that had her enraptured, Leon was sitting on the bed, shirtless.

"Alright, hero-boy, all better." You smiled at Leon as you patted his bicep - earning a small, almost inaudible grumble from him - and moving to close your medical kit. You stood, tucking away in your pack and let out a sigh. "’Kay, l for one, am fucking exhausted."

“Yeah, me too,” Ashely murmured, an aura of discomfort still radiating from her. She offered a kind, if not awkward smile to the pair of you before settling into the bed, pulling the overs over her shoulders. “G’night.”

“‘Night,” you smiled, shuffling over to the bed you and Leon were sharing. You sat down on the edge, eyes trained on the back of Ashley’s head — the blonde hair, how it shimmered against the dim light of the single lamp in the room. You felt almost as if you weren’t really there.

“Need me to check you?” Leon asked, snapping you back to reality. You jolted a bit, looking at him from over your shoulder.

“Oh, nah, I’m okay.” You shook your head, clearing your throat as you settled into the bed, flicking off the lamp.

“Okay,” Leon shrugged, getting into the bed too, still in just a pair of pants. Everyone was in the barest of clothing. You in a tank top and underwear — Ashely in the same. It was all you had. All your clothes were soiled with dirt, and grime, and blood.

Thinking of nothing in particular, you laid there, staring up at the ceiling of the dark room. The walls creaked every once in a while, odd drafts filtered in from cracks in the ceiling or from the window. It was too quiet. And it stayed that way for a long while.

“Everything okay with Ashley?” Leon asked, his voice quiet, as not to wake the subject of conversation.

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” You mumbled back, turning your head. He, too, was on his back. Both of you too afraid to face each other in bed, seeming too personal. “Why?”

“Just making sure.” His response was quiet, a little too nonchalant, as if he’d forced it to be casual. “It was awkward earlier.”

“Earlier?” You decided to play dumb, despite knowing that Leon wouldn’t believe it. He was well aware you knew what he was talking about. The touch. How Ashley had frozen when you’d touched her leg.

“Whatever, play stupid.” He scoffed with a half smile — a knowing smile. The bastard. “Just saying, she seems attached to you.”

“Oh, and she’s not with you, her hero?” You bit back with a hint of humor. Your voices were still low, hoping Ashely was asleep — or she couldn’t hear you if she wasn’t.

Leon laughed quietly, a rough scoff sound that echoed in your ears. You smiled at little at that sound. “Whatever you say,”

You frowned, gaining the confidence to shuffle onto your side, facing him as you contemplated what that simple, yet heavy ‘whatever’ meant. “What do you mean, whatever?”

Leon sighed, rolling onto his side to face you too. His eyes, still so blue even in the darkness of the motel room, bore into yours. It seemed he didn’t carry the same awkward feeling about this topic as you did. Or, maybe he did and he just hid it exceptionally well. But knowing him, that didn’t seem right.

“She’s just attached to you. Always at your side, or chatting your ear off. And what the hell was with that earlier?” He continued, brows furrowed in their eternal frown.

“I was patching her up. Making sure none of her cuts were infected.” You half shrugged, trying to play it off as something simple, even though it was so complex.

“She looked like she wanted to kiss you or something.”

“Oh, my God,” you rolled your eyes, trying to push away the way your chest tightened at the though. “You’re so fucking dramatic. She wasn’t gonna kiss me.”

“Okay,” Leon shrugged, his tone final and casually dismissive. Like he was finished talking about it. Like he didn’t believe you but didn’t want to say so.

“She was not going to kiss me.” You pushed, voice quiet yet firm. Your own brows were pulled into a frown, like what he’d said was offensive.

But it wasn’t. Kissing Ashley wasn’t a bad thought. It wasn’t as if you’d never kissed another girl before. The first time you had was in the training program for USSTRATCOM, your training partner who made you realize that all girls don’t look at other girls that way. She was the first, others followed.

Ashley was pretty, very pretty. Tall, pretty lips, and the blonde hair, blue eye thing, of course. Kissing her wouldn’t be so bad, really. It would probably be very nice. But nothing like kissing Leon, though.

“Okay.” Leon said again, shifting to lay on his back again, letting his eyes close. The finality of it all aggravated you. So, you asked him a question maybe you shouldn’t have.

“What if she did?” You asked, eyes narrowed and trained on him. A smile bloomed on your face at the way his eyes opened, his brows furrowing deeper at your question.

“What about it? It’s not my business.” Leon grumbled. But the tone he used made it wound like it was very much his business.

“M’kay.” You nodded, quietly celebrating to the way you’d seemed to have stumped him, surprised him.

For a moment, he didn’t respond. He stared at the ceiling, and you stared at him. It was deadly quiet, the rhythmic sound of Ashley’s breathing the sole sound in the room.

“Did you want her to?” Leon asked, mumbling quietly. His eyes stayed on the ceiling, as if he were afraid to look you in the eye when you answered. Afraid you had an answer he wouldn’t like.

“I dunno.” You admitted, honestly. You didn’t know, truly you didn’t. Kissing Ashely wouldn’t be so bad, but you hardly knew the girl. Not to mention her heavy attachment to you. It could get worse if she kissed you.

Leon nodded, not sure of how to answer your admission. He laid there, your eyes on him as you laid on your side. You wished so desperately for him to kiss you, or hold you, or do something. It was painful, the thought that he didn’t feel the same.

“Would that bother you?” You dared to ask, voice so low it was almost inaudible as you spoke.

Leon was still quiet for a long moment, maybe considering whether to answer seriously or with his usual dry humor. The latter won. “Not something I’d wanna walk in on.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Why? Because we’re girls?”

“Because she’d be kissing you.” He responding, saying it lightly, like the meaning of that simple sentence wasn’t the heaviest thing you’d ever heard.

Your mind did circles, your heart raced. Did he mean that because you were his partner? Or did he mean it out of jealousy. God, you hoped it was jealousy.

“What do you mean by that?” You questioned, voice apprehensive and unsure.

Leon shrugged, a soft, unintelligible grunt falling from his lips. He didn’t look over at you, his eyes still trained on the ceiling. The nagging feeling that was ever present in your chest worsened. The silence was deafening, painful. Then, finally, he spoke.

“It’d just be weird. It’s Ashely, it’d be weird.” He mumbled, like even he didn’t believe his own answer.

Leon’s words befuddled you, made you frown in contemplation. “Because it’s Ashley? What you mean by that?”

“I mean it’s Ashley. It’d be weird.” He repeated, not clarifying at all. This annoyed you.

Eyes narrowed, lips in a line, you scoffed. “Thanks for the explanation.”

“Anytime,” Leon clipped back playfully. But you were in no playful mood.

You huffed, Leon picking up on your attitude as you sat up in bed. “Seriously, what’d you mean by that?”

Leon let out a scoff of his own, rolling his eyes as he looked over at you. “I mean it’s just a weird thought. You and Ashley. We, we just met her, okay?”

“Oh,” you nodded, wishing you hadn’t jumped to your own conclusions internally. You’d thought he meant it was weird because she wasn’t him. Or maybe that he wanted to kiss you. Not such a simple and obvious answer.

“Yeah,” he nodded, letting out a small sigh to stifle a yawn. “Look, can we get some sleep now? Kinda have a long trip home tomorrow.”

“Yeah. Yeah, sorry.” You mumbled, lying back down on your back, eyes on the cracked ceiling once again.

It was quiet again, the discomfort of silence present once more as Ashley slept in the bed next to yours, and Leon tired to sleep beside you. Your mind buzzed with a thousand variations of the same question: why did Leon actually care so damn much?

“Go to sleep. You think too loud.” Leon grumbled, shifting to lay on his side, back facing you.

“At least some of us think,” you quipped quietly, earning a scoff of a laugh from him before he went silent for the final time that night.

Of course Leon woke up at dawn. The asscrack of fucking dawn. And it wasn’t like he was quiet either. Shuffling of his feet as he stumbled to the bathroom, the sink creaking on. You tried so hard to stay asleep, but your stupid internal alarm clock was ringing too. Oh to be in D.C. where it was still dark.

“C’mon, get up. We need to get moving.” Leon said, his voice somewhat gentle as he rested a hand on your shoulder once he’d emerged from the bathroom, fully changed.

“I’m up. You’re loud.” You mumbled, voice muffled as you pressed your face into the pillow.

“Jesus,” Leon whispered under his breath. “Even Ashely’s up.”

“Good for her,” you nestled deeper into the pillow, hearing a second set of footsteps head toward the bathroom. Less than five short seconds later, Leon yanked the covers from your body, sending a muffled yelp from your lips.

“Up, we need to move.” Leon said again, giving your leg a small shake as you grumbled on about a lack of sleep. His gentleness was gone now, replaced by urgency.

Technically, you were still on ‘enemy grounds’. You weren’t safe until you were back on U.S. soil, and even then there carried a risk with Ashley in tow.

So, with more sour encouragement from Leon, you got up and changed into your now dry clothes. Once Ashely used up her turn in the bathroom, you took yours. And not long after, the three of you were heading back toward the lobby of the shabby motel.

You managed to convince Leon to stick around for an extra thirty minutes for a shitty cooked breakfast in the sad excuse for a dining room where the motel offered complimentary breakfast.

Once full of frozen scrambled eggs, stale toast, and really bad coffee, the three of you were on the move once more. It was tricky, getting home like this. Hunnigan had promised that of you made it to a certain location a few miles north of the motel, there would be a chopper waiting to pick you up. Hunnigan hadn’t failed you yet, so you didn’t doubt her.

“How much further?” Ashley asked, her brows creased, forehead already glistening with sweat as the three of you walked through the winding streets of a small village as you had been for the past few hours.

“Not too much. Tired?” You asked, slowing your steps to walk alongside the girl.

She nodded, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. Sympathy panged in your chest — Ashley wasn’t built for this like you and Leon were. The two of you had trained for exhausting situations such as these, she had not. You frowned.

“Need some water?” You asked gently, holding out a canteen from your belt. Ashley nodded vigorously, taking the canteen and drinking deeply.

You motioned to Leon to stop for a moment, he frowned, but did nonetheless. You stood with Ashley as she drank, taking a break before going back to drinking the water.

“Thanks,” she smiled, handing the canteen back to you — now half empty. “Sorry, I drank a lot.”

“That’s okay. Can’t have you passing out on us now, can we?” You smiled, taking a sip yourself before latching it back on your belt.

Leon, noticing that Ashely was finished with her break, began walking again. You and Ashely followed, keeping a small bit of distance between you and Leon.

“Hey, I um, I overheard you and Leon talking last night. Not everything, but some of it.” Ashley confessed, her voice a bit hesitant.

“Oh, that so? What’d you hear exactly?” You asked casually, worry springing in your chest.

“Just, I’m sorry because I know you guys have a like, groove or whatever. And I mess it up and I make it weird.”

You frowned for a moment, thinking about her words. Then it hit you — she didn’t hear about the kissing discussion, just the last bit about her being new to the trio.

“Oh, Ashely. You don’t make anything weird. Leon and I… we weren’t talking about you making things weird.” You promised, lips curved downward as you and Ashley walked behind Leon.

“Then why’d Leon say that?” Ashely asked, the insecurity obvious in her voice.

You hesitated, unsure whether or not to say it to her face. That he’d thought you two were going to kiss. After a moment of consideration — and seeing Ashely’s sad, curious eyes — you decided to just say it. Consequences be damned.

“Because he thought you were going to try to kiss me. When he came out of the bathroom last night.” You explained gently, shrugging as if it weren’t a big deal. When it kind of was.

The girl was quiet for a long moment, her brows creased, lips turned downward. She swallowed, looking back at you from where she’d been staring at her feet. “And he meant it’d be weird if I did kiss you?”

“Yeah, that’s what he meant. Not because we’re girls,” you were quick to interject your previous statement. “But because it’s just… that you and I don’t really know each other that well.”

Ashley nodded, walking beside you as you followed Leon along the uneven stone paths. Every once in a while, he’d glance backward to make sure you weren’t lingering behind or somehow gotten lost.

“Okay,” one simple word carried such finality. It shook you — Ashley was uncomfortable.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel weird. I just wanted to be honest.” You tried to explain gently but firmly. You didn’t want her to think you were strange.

“You didn’t make me feel weird.” Ashely shook her head, eyes squinting in the mid-afternoon sun as she looked over at you.

You smiled a little, relieved you hadn’t put her off or made her uncomfortable. That really was the last thing you wanted. “Good,”

The three of you continued to walk along, and a little further up, you demanded a break. Leon huffed, claiming you didn’t have time for a break. But the sun was warm and you were quickly running out of water.

So, you stopped for a quick fifteen minutes before setting off again. Leon was walking much quicker than before — dead set on getting to the extraction point before sundown. Which was very much possible as you were a mere four miles away.

There was a chopper waiting, just as Hunnigan had promised. God, you’d mentally decided to name your first born after her, so thankful to finally leave Spain and sit your ass down.

You sat beside Leon in the back compartment of the chopper, all three of you sporting massive headsets to protect your ears. You chatted away with the pilot — a friend of Hunnigan’s named Danny who was funny, and reminded you of the late Mike who died in pursuit of getting you and Leon out of trouble in the village.

With the promise of a good meal and actual hot showers, Danny flew the three of you home. You were busy looking outside the chopper when Leon nudged your knee with his, earning a slightly venomous glare from you before he pointed to Ashley. Who was dead asleep across from you.

The ride back to D.C. was long, around six hours. Most of which were spent talking with Danny or falling asleep, slumped against Leon’s shoulder. Around twenty minutes before you were set to land — you and Leon had been previously discussing what you were doing first, eating, sleeping, or showering — you shook Ashley awake.

The poor thing was groggy and half asleep as you all filed off the chopper and bid goodbye to Danny — whom you’d made a promise to meet up with and have drinks in honor of Mike at his favorite bar he’d mentioned before he tragically died.

A government issued SUV waited for you, instructing the three of you to pile into the back so you could be taken straight to the President, then to testing. Which you put up a damn good fight. Who the fuck cared about testing? You were hungry and tired and dehydrated as hell. Leon shut you up quick though, despite not being happy about the arrangement himself.

Unfortunately, the car ride was around a half an hour. The driver — not as intimidating had he’d first appeared — flicked between radio stations ntil he landed on one he knew was Ahsley’s favorite. (Apparently he’d been the one to drive Ashely to college, so he knew what music she liked).

Much to Ashely’s dismay and deathly embarrassment, the fucking Backstreet Boys were playing. The driver turned it up, also having the knowledge that this particular track was one of Ashley’s favorites.

Unfortunately, you knew the lyrics too. You mumbled along with them, Leon biting back a smile at how ridiculous his own field partner could be.

“You like the Backstreet Boys?” Ashely asked, her cheeks a bit warm as you bopped your head to the beat and hummed along.

“Nah, but don’t be embarrassed.” You shook your head, smiling at the girl who was sitting between you and Leon.

“Music is music, blondie.” Leon agreed, nodding his head with your positive attitude. He looked back over Ashely’s head at you, trying hard not to smile at your antics. God, you could be so stupidly immature sometimes.

“Oh,” Ashley mumbled, slinking down further in her seat as the driver made the final turn and parked the SUV.

Leon exited first, then Ashley, and you to follow up the rear. You and Leon were armed, still charged with protecting Ashely, no matter the fact that you were indeed on U.S. soil again, and at the White House. The President didn’t greet you outside to your surprise, but you were ushered immediately to his office.

There he was reunited with his daughter, the emotional moment making you have to quietly clear your throat because it even choked you up to see Ashley so happy to see her father again.

You and Leon were thanked profusely, promised your compensation and the highest of honors and awards. To which you didn’t really want (except the money, fuck, you wanted the money), but you knew better than to even try to deny.

With that, you and Leon were quickly dismissed, told you were being led to government testing to be sure you really were clear of the parasites. You gave Ashley a quick goodbye smile and hug, Leon giving her a pat on the shoulder, telling her to behave herself.

She looked so unsure, so strange standing in the Oval Office, clothes grimy and blood stained, hair mussed as she watched you and Leon being escorted from the room.

The First Daughter felt a strange sort of emptiness in her chest then, watching you leave. Her brows furrowed as her father spoke incessantly to her about how worried he’d been and how much he missed her. You were agents, assigned to bring her home and leave. No more, no less. So why was she so devastated to see you go?

Of course, you felt a little sad to leave the girl behind. Despite spending only around forty-eight hours with Ashley, you found yourself realizing you’d miss her. Her smile and her comments and her laugh. The way she always asked if you were alright when you should have been doing so to her. How she tried her hardest to defend you and Leon, despite her chronic helplessness.

These things were not spoken to Leon though as you two walked out of the White House together, followed by guards back to the SUV you’d arrived in. But, even though you didn’t say it, you knew Leon felt it too. Somehow, in forty-eight short hours, Ashley had left a mark on you. The both of you. And you missed her already.

“Wait!” You stopped in your tracks, you and Leon almost simultaneously looking over your shoulder to see Ashley running out of the White House after you. She was panting, trying to catch up.

She ran to Leon first, wrapping her arms around his neck, taking the agent by such surprise it made him stumble backwards a bit. Leon wasn’t much of a hugger, you knew this personally. But, despite the action being hesitant and awkward, he hugged her back.

After a few moments — which you knew in your bones were long for Leon — he gave her a quick pat on the back. Ashely took the motion in stride and unlinked herself, smiling at him.

Then, she turned to you. Of course, you expected a hug as well, and you got one. She wrapped her arms around your neck too, you wrapped your arms around her middle, hugging her back with no hesitation. But what you hadn’t expected, was for her to lean back and press a kiss to your lips.

You paused, frozen, eyes wide as Ashley kissed you. What the fuck? She wasn’t a bad kisser, actually. You felt a little bad, not kissing her back as Ashley pulled away, letting go of you and taking a step back. You sort of wished you had kissed her back. But, as the girl stood there, she held no contempt for the fact that you hadn’t. She knew she’d taken you by complete surprise.

“Thank you, both of you. I know I already said it, but thank you for saving my life. It, it means a lot.” Ashely said, her lips — which had been as soft as you thought they were — curved in a sweet smile. Baby blue eyes darted between you and Leon.

Leon who was as shocked as you that Ashley had kissed you with such little hesitation. He was still recovering as well.

Ashely said no more, just offering one last wide smile before turning around and walking away. Her guard — which had followed her outside, running behind her — escorted her. She didn’t even look back, didn’t get a second look at the still shocked look on your face.

“Holy fuck,” you said finally, looking away from Ashley’s retreating figure to look at Leon. He was shocked as well, brows raised as he blinked for a moment.

“Yep, that was weird.” Leon mumbled, nodding as if in affirmation. He said no more, turning around and walking to the SUV, leaving you in momentary silence.

You blinked yourself back to the present, realizing Leon’s comment. You frowned, turning and quickly walking to the SUV as well. “So I didn’t just have a dehydration induced hallucination? She actually kissed me?”

“She actually kissed you,” Leon nodded as he buckled in the SUV, you climbing in and sitting beside him. The car started and rolled out of the parking lot.

“Oh my God.” You said, brows raised, shaking your head. You were unsure of what else there really was to say. You were at a total loss for words.

“Fucking weird.” Leon shook his head, whispering again.

This caused you to look over at him, brows raised. “Why? Because we’re girls?” You brought up your challenge from the previous night, knowing full well you’d get the same damn response.

“No, because it's you.”

You frowned deeper, lips downturned. Oh, you liked a good fucking challenge. “You think I’m like, un-kissable, or something, Kennedy?”

Leon rolled his eyes, exhaustion obviously catching up to him. He looked tired — physically and mentally. “I didn’t say that. It’s just weird.”

“See, that’s not an explanation. Just like it wasn’t last night.” You chided, eyes narrowed.

“Christ,” Leon mumbled under his breath as shook his head, clearly regretting ever speaking in the last five minutes. “It’s just weird to see my partner being kissed like that.”

You took this as your chance, a grin forming on your lips. “By another girl? Or just in general?”

“General.” Leon responded, obviously not caring of how bored it sounded.

“Jealous or something?” You challenged further, lips pulled in a shit-eating grin.

Oh you’d gotten him there. You could tell by the way Leon’s shoulders tensed and his too casual expression that he was, indeed, sickeningly jealous. An idea — stupid, one that may ruin your dynamic — popped into your head.

You turned your body to face Leon in the backseat, grinning as he frowned at your sudden closeness. With no hesitation or moment for him to react, you leaned forward and kissed him. Square on the mouth. It must be a thing for blondes to have really soft lips.

Leon didn’t say a word, didn’t pull back, didn’t move. He just let you kiss him. Which was strange in and of itself. You placed a hand on his cheek, him a hand on the back of your neck. Eureka, he’d wanted to kiss you all along. Fuck yes, that’s all you could think.

Leon was a decent kisser too, a really good kisser actually. You scooched a little closer, allowing him to hold you by the back of your neck, your body relaxed against his as if it were natural to do so.

Was this what Ashely was feeling when she’d kissed you? Absolute elation and joy? You didn’t let yourself wonder too much, getting swept up in the fact that you were kissing Leon. His hand was gentle yet firm on the back of your neck, your hand on his cheek drifting down to rest against his chest. This moment, God you wished it could last forever.

Which unfortunately, it didn’t. You heard someone clear their throat, the driver looking at you through the rear view mirror. You pulled back, cheeks a little warm. You must look like some sort of girl. Someone who got around maybe. First the First Daughter had kissed you, now you were verging on making out with your field partner in the backseat of a government vehicle.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, pulling away from Leon and sitting back on the seat.

Leon scoffed to himself, letting his hand fall from where it’d been resting on the back of your neck. “You’re stupid,”

“Excuse me?” You let out a small laugh. You’d kissed him and he was calling you stupid? What the hell?

“I can’t believe it took you that long to realize.” Leon shook his head, making you roll your eyes. He’d been jealous the whole time. So the comment of how weird it’d been that Ashley would kiss you — and actually had — was exactly what you thought. Huh, you were some amateur detective.

“Shut up,” you smiled, mumbling as you crossed your arms over your chest, sinking into the seat.

“Nope.” Leon shook his head, making you smile wider.

Maybe these tests wouldn’t be so bad, now that you had two kisses to think on. One you could only ever remember, and one you could receive a million more of once all this was over.

how you can help Palestine! 🇵🇸

[silenzahra]

⚡ An electrical aura ⚡

Ah, it feels so good to be back with a new story after so long! 😌

As I mentioned here, in this fic you will find one of my favorite topics to consume in any kind of fanwork:

✨⚡ Protective Luigi ⚡✨

I would've liked to post this story a couple of days ago to coincide with Mario and Luigi's birthday (even though the story has nothing to do with the date itself) as a way of celebrating their bond as brothers that we all love and adore so much 🥹💚❤️

Still, I'm glad I can share it now as this is one of the many fanfics I've been planning to write... for more than a year 😶

And at long last, here it is! 😄

@pepperycar @bberetd @vulpixfairy1985 @megamagimugi @roscolate

@peaches2217 @zocchini37 @itsavee4117 @keakruiser @multicolour-ink

@dragon-fly34 @eleventhhourfactor @stripetkattelalala54-gf @kelbreyworshipper @doodleydoo101

@c-lavanda @teegeeteegee and anyone else who might be interested: hope you enjoy! 💖

And as always: you can keep reading under the cut if you'd like! 👇

(Please remember that likes, comments, kudos, reblogs and any kind of feedback is always more than welcome 🥰)

⚡ An electrical aura ⚡

TW: Blood, violence (not too much though)

Luigi doesn't like being separated from his brother.

It was hard enough having to leave him behind when he got sick to go in search of the antidote. Luigi swallows as he remembers how scared he was when he saw Mario's skin turn green after consuming that strange mushroom and how his feet practically flew to the Mushroom Kingdom embassy, carrying his twin in his arms, to take him to the princess and try to get him help.

This time, however, at least Luigi has the comfort and relief of knowing that his brother is safe, even if he’s not at his side.

The moment they came across that first barred door, Luigi immediately understood that his twin wouldn’t have a chance to follow him, that he’d have to go on alone and that Mario would have to find his own way. Luigi gave him a glance full of consternation and, for a very brief moment, his brother returned exactly the same look. Before, of course, forcing himself to hide it so as not to show discouragement in front of his little brother and, instead, give him a reassuring grin.

Luigi smiles to himself as a pleasant tenderness spreads across his chest and warms his heart. That's his big brother: always ready to appear strong and confident to protect his younger sibling and not to worry him, all with the purpose of preventing Luigi’s anxiety from getting any worse.

Looking around, Luigi puts his hands to his chest in some sort of reflex action, trying to keep the warmth that the thought of his brother brings up inside him. For, not to his luck, everything around him is ice and more ice. Joke’s End is an inhospitable, deserted, cold place. It certainly serves its purpose of functioning as a kind of graveyard for jokes, for while the other places in the Beanbean Kingdom that he and Mario have visited had much more cheerful names and were also full of life, this place is far from the mainland and, except for the monsters and that strange blue girl with the scepter that has greeted them, it’s also the loneliest place in the entire kingdom.

Luigi hugs himself as he continues looking at his surroundings with a parched throat and a sense of dread growing inside him. He’s never felt so alone in his entire life.

He only hopes that this ordeal is about to end. He followed the path marked by the place itself, hit the necessary blocks and battled alone against various monsters, despite the insecurity produced by not having his twin with him so that they could perform their combined attacks.

Not to mention the several occasions on which he’s been able to see Mario through a barred door without either of them finding a way to bridge the distance between them. All those times, Luigi has clung to the bars as if he could make them disappear in his fingers so he could finally be reunited with his brother, and Mario hasn’t hesitated to approach him and place his hands on his twin’s, gazing at him affectionately while he gave him words of encouragement and, again, smiles filled with confidence.

“Soon we'll be together, Lu,” he assured him, and Luigi could practically touch the certainty that permeated every word his brother spoke. “We'll soon find a way, you'll see.”

Despite his anxiety and his many insecurities, Luigi has never doubted Mario. He always believes in his promises, unquestioningly, because he knows that his twin wouldn't tell him if he didn't truly believe in them and if he wasn't willing to do everything in his power to keep them.

And he always does. Mario has never, ever failed Luigi. Not once in their entire lives.

Therefore, Luigi trusts. He trusts Mario blindly, just as he has since the day they were born, and he’ll continue to trust him until the day he dies.

So that's what keeps him going: the certitude that Mario's words will come true sooner or later. The assurance that everything his brother tells him is as true as the sun will always rise at the end of the darkest night and the light will shine again. Just as bright as Mario’s smile.

This time, whether they manage to reunite depends on a strange puzzle that, once again, they must solve by working together, even though they’re physically separated. This is not the first time, of course: when they’ve seen each other through barred doors, it’s been because they had to hit twin blocks in unison in order to activate different mechanisms, and there have even been times when they haven’t been able to see one another but have felt each other's presence through the thick walls of ice that make up Joke’s End.

As Luigi hits this last block, he hears a sound coming from outside. Both he and Mario have just crossed walkways that ran parallel to each other and converged at two different doors in the building, and they’ve helped each other to move forward until they’ve reached, at least in Luigi's case, a dead-end room. After hitting the block, Luigi retraces his steps towards the walkway he has just crossed and discovers that a frozen bridge has emerged between the two.

“Yes!”

Luigi can't and won't hold back the squeal of relief and excitement that bubbles up from his throat. Without wasting any time, he runs across the footbridge to cross to the other side and begins to follow the path that Mario must have taken. He wonders if he’ll bump into his sibling, if he too has started running, if he’s as eager as Luigi is to hold him in his arms. The smile on the younger plumber’s face widens, for he’s sure that Mario feels the same way. He’s about to join his big brother in a tight embrace, and this time, he won’t let Mario get away from him again.

Then, as he climbs up some latticed platforms, a high-pitched scream rings in his ears and is suddenly cut off.

Due to the surprise, Luigi almost stops in his tracks as he feels how the air escapes from his lungs and an icy fist grips his heart. And it has nothing to do with the cold prevailing in the place.

It only takes him a moment, however, to resume running, giving his legs more speed.

“Mario!”

He leaps over some ice blocks and manages to reach the next room. He skids across the ice when he realizes that he’s at a high location and that, to his right and left, there are two sets of steps leading down to the bottom of the room.

And down there, right in the middle, is Mario.

The blood runs cold in Luigi's veins as he discovers his brother lying on the ground, completely motionless, with traces of dirt on his clothes and a red stain crowning his forehead, his hat fallen just short of his head. With a horrified gasp, Luigi doesn't give it a second thought: he runs to the edge of the step, bends down and jumps, landing in a crouch a short distance from where Mario lays. He moves practically on all fours towards his twin, his heart pounding in his chest and his eyes so wide that he thinks they'll end up popping out of their sockets.

“Mario,” he mumbles in a nervous whisper.

He carefully places a hand under Mario's head and slowly lifts him up as he slides his knees under his body to try to give him some comfort. He pulls him closer as he continues to whisper his name, but his brother does not respond. There’s blood on his neck and one of his knees, Luigi notices. Feeling the anguish growing inside him, he examines the crimson stain on Mario's forehead, as it seems to be the most serious wound. His white glove is immediately covered in red. Wheezing, Luigi raises his hand in front of his face and stares at it, blinking in awe, as if his brain is having trouble processing what his eyes are seeing.

Mario's blood coats Luigi’s fingers.

The distress that floods him begins to transform, little by little, into something different. Something that causes small sparks of electricity to sizzle around him.

It is then that he becomes aware of their presence.

Luigi blinks a little to focus his eyes, as they’re blurry, he doesn't know why, and lowers his hand without any haste. He places it protectively on Mario's chest, which, fortunately, rises and falls, evidence that he continues to breathe, albeit slowly and heavily. Luigi pulls him a little closer to himself, his hand still holding his twin's head with extreme care. His breathing is getting more and more arduous and laborious, and his cheeks are getting wet, but he’s not even aware of it.

In front of him stand three of the many monsters that plague the place. Luigi has faced several of them before, both alone and in the company of his brother, so he recognizes them immediately. A Glurp, which spews toxic clouds that have on occasion poisoned him or Mario, causing his sibling to be extremely grateful for Luigi's efforts to carry extra Refreshing Herbs in their luggage. An Ice Snifit, whose spiky chunks of ice have frozen his soul and against which only his brother's Firebrand has been effective enough to eradicate its effects.

And lastly... a Clumph.

His green skin makes Luigi think of a nurse’s uniform. His purple hair reminds him of a bunch of grapes.

And finally... that huge club that he carries everywhere.

In all likelihood, this Clumph is the main reason why his big brother is lying unconscious in his arms.

Out of pure instinct, Luigi squeezes Mario a little tighter as his brow furrows. How dare that damned Clumph hurt his twin in such a way. How dare he stand there, in front of him, carrying his club on his shoulder as if he hadn't just dealt it with all his might on Mario's forehead. How dare he give him that goofy look with which he pretends to be completely innocent.

How dare he.

“How dare you,” Luigi mumbles without even being aware of it.

The particles of electricity around Luigi have increased in intensity and power. His breathing has accelerated so much that snorts escape from his mouth, and the hair on his arms has bristled under his green shirt. The plumber hears the roar of thunder, but he can’t tell where it comes from. He does take a glimpse of a glow that illuminates the place green, though. Without taking his eyes off the Clumph, Luigi reaches an arm over Mario to grab his brother’s hat and places it under his twin’s head as he lays him extremely gently on the ground. Then, taking his time, he stands up. His enemies don't miss his every move either, the Ice Snifit and Glurp ready to attack.

Luigi, however, is not going to give them the slightest chance.

His veins burn so much that he feels like he's going to explode at any moment. Rage has invaded every inch of his body and is spreading through his nerve endings like a thunderstorm that threatens to burst and destroy him in the process.

Luigi is more than willing to let it out.

He can't remember ever feeling this way, either before or after acquiring his Thunderhand, but he's not going to hold back. These enemies dared to touch his brother. They dared to attack him when Luigi was finally on his way to reunite with him. They dared to inflict Mario a wound that has robbed him of consciousness. They dared to spill his blood.

It will be the last thing they will do in their lives.

Anger controls his every move when Luigi unhurriedly steps over Mario's body and walks heavily towards his rivals, as if he were nothing more than a puppet in the hands of the strongest wrath. Although they try to look determined and ready to fight, the monsters sense the aura that surrounds Luigi, the aura of someone who is willing to do anything to get revenge, the aura of someone who will stop at nothing to protect what is most precious to him in the world.

An electrical aura that brings thunder at lightning in its wake.

As he walks, Luigi clenches his fists at his sides and rebellious sparks escape from them. He feels that both his mustache and his hair under his hat have bristled, and his cheeks are now so dampened that he feels them cold, but he doesn't care. He continues to move, his breathing harsh and uneasy, his heart pounding in his chest, and he feels an unexpected surge of satisfaction sweep over him when he realizes that his enemies, cornered, have bumped into the icy wall of the building surrounding them.

They have no escape.

Luigi's fury, on the other hand, does.

Growling under his breath, the plumber closes his eyes and allows the energy pulsing in his veins to take complete control.

His arms rise up, his palms pointing towards his enemies. Electricity courses through his body, surging from deep within him and rushing to his hands. Against all odds, a sense of warm calm invades Luigi as he feels his electric magic dance up and down, flooding every inch of his body, reaching every corner of his essence and causing a fleeting smile to play across his lips.

He has never felt so powerful.

Before the first streak bursts from Luigi's fingertips, his eyelids part, but there’s no trace of pupil in his gaze.

There’s only room for electricity.

Luigi's eyes are entirely white as his power begins, at last, to be released. Jets of light, sometimes blue, sometimes green, emerge from his hands, lethal, deadly, and it takes Luigi a moment to realize that he’s begun to emit a low snarl that, gradually, turns into a scream with which he frees all the emotions that boil inside him. The fear of losing his brother. The rage for what they’ve done to him. The thirst for revenge, which had never before blinded him so much.

In fact, Luigi realizes that everything he sees is white. An immaculate white, dotted with sizzling green and blue flashes, which prevent him from checking what his magic is doing, what his hands are causing. Nor is he able to perceive any sound, as if his ears were underwater, in a completely silent limbo that has cut him off from the outside world.

However, he quickly decides that he doesn't care. He doesn't care, because he feels invincible. He’s filled with fierce drive that fuels his power and begs him to go on, to not stop, to continue giving it free rein. The euphoria of the moment is so strong that it becomes addictive, something Luigi clings to with all his might.

It's all for his brother.

Mario deserves that and more. Mario deserves the whole world.

Despite Luigi’s blindness, which, he hopes, is temporary, the image of his twin appears clearly in front of him. His beloved Mario, always so cheerful and smiling, always ready to fight for those he loves, always ready for battle. Always determined to protect Luigi and spare him all harm, but also full of unshakable faith in his little sibling.

A faith that has always been Luigi's driving force throughout his entire life.

If it were not for Mario, Luigi simply wouldn’t believe in himself. If it were not for Mario, Luigi wouldn’t have learned to fight, both for himself and for those he loves. If it were not for Mario, Luigi would not be who he is today.

If it weren't for Mario, Luigi wouldn't be here right now.

So he's not going to give up. He’ll continue to defend his brother the same way Mario has always defended him. He won't let those damn monsters get close to his sibling again. He won't let them get a chance to hurt him again.

He won't let them get away with it.

However, as he unleashes all his power and his unstoppable energy travels through his body and gushes from his hands, Luigi empties himself. He empties himself of the fear of losing Mario forever. He empties himself of all his anger, of all his resentment against the beings who have dared to harm his twin. He empties himself of all his thirst for revenge.

And he empties himself, also, of his electric magic.

Which carries with it a great part of his vitality.

Luigi blinks several times as the sparks around his vision begin to dim and the blinding white gradually fades. Before he can see anything, however, he notices his knees hit the icy ground, his legs unable to support him, and he begins to become aware of the noisy panting he’s emitting. He closes his eyes again and squeezes his eyelids tightly shut as he brings a hand to his chest in an attempt to calm his racing heart and regulate his rapid breathing. His entire body trembles violently, and he continues to see sparks, only, this time, there’s no trace of those green and blue flashes in them. All he sees is blackness and darkness.

A darkness so enveloping that it threatens to drag him into the deepest and most absolute unconsciousness.

Despite his exhaustion, Luigi can’t afford to faint now. This is no time to rest. He has to check what has happened while he was in that kind of electric trance, what has become of his enemies. He has to check in on Mario.

His brother needs him.

But the darkness is so tempting... What if he only lets himself be dragged along for a moment? Just enough to rest and regain his strength. Besides, his eyes are already closed. What's the difference if—?

“Lu?”

Luigi's eyelids flutter open as he lifts his head with a jerk. He only takes a moment to gaze at the frozen wall in front of him, empty, which makes him imagine that the monsters must have fled, frightened by the fierceness of his power.

But that’s not important now.

His head turns at lightning speed as he compels his exhausted limbs to move. In the midst of his wheezing, a wide grin blooms on his face as his eyes meet another pair, of the same limpid blue, gazing up at him in awe.

“Mario!” he exclaims.

Not wanting to waste any time, he propels himself onto the icy ground to stand up, only to drop to his knees again two seconds later, this time next to Mario. His brother watches him with half-opened eyes and a tired smile glistening on his lips as well. Luigi places a hand in his sibling’s hair, careful not to touch his wound so as not to hurt him more, and his heart fills with joy as he notices how his twin reaches for his hand.

When their fingers intertwine, they join with a force more sweeping than that of a hurricane and more intense than that of the most devastating thunderstorm.

“How are you feeling?”

“Was it you?”

The brothers share a few knowing laughs when they realize that they’ve spoken at the same time. They look at each other fondly, amused, and Luigi, feeling his heart calm at last, gladly gives the floor to his twin.

“I'm a little dizzy,” Mario confesses, his voice a faint murmur. “It hurts...”

He attempts to bring his free hand to his forehead, but Luigi gently restrains him.

���Don't touch it,” he asks, concerned. “You’re wounded, but I'm sure this will help.”

He begins to rummage in his pockets without letting go of his brother's fingers. He doesn't notice that his twin can’t take his eyes off him.

“Was it you, Luigi?” he asks again.

“What do you mean?” Luigi asks, pulling the fabric of his right pocket to try to get a glimpse of its contents.

“The electric shock,” says Mario. “I woke up and saw... Lightning bolts. Electricity. Blue... Green. And... I heard thunder.”

Luigi notices that his brother struggles to speak. Stressed, he begins to rummage in the chest pocket of his overalls, ignoring the fact that he feels exhausted too. Where the heck did he put them?

“Luigi.”

His twin's voice, tinged with a certain urgency, as well as the squeeze he gives his hand, cause Luigi to finally look up. He’s speechless when he notices the fixed, penetrating glance, bursting with curiosity, that Mario is giving him. He can’t help but be slightly startled and even blush, and immediately resumes his search.

“I-I don't know what happened,” he mumbles nervously, and he’s not lying.

“Lu, did you...?” Mario takes a few seconds to ask his question. “Did you just unleash a thunderstorm?”

As his fingers finally grab the 1-UP Super he was looking for, Luigi closes his eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath.

The truth is that he has no idea what just happened. He only knows that several emotions swirled inside him the moment he saw Mario's blood staining his glove red, and that he experienced them in a more overwhelming and powerful way than ever before. He’s never felt that fire in his chest, that tingling in his arms, that sensation of being unstoppable that has taken over his soul and has demanded to gush from his hands with more force than ever.

Luigi had no clue he was capable of such a thing.

“Lu?”

Mario's voice urges him to open his eyes again. His heart shrinks in his chest as soon as he notices the lingering worry in his brother's eyes, not yet completely lucid, but enough to be worried by his silence. Luigi tries to smile and shrugs as he holds out the mushroom.

“It's nothing,” he assures his twin. “I'm fine, but you're not. Eat this.”

“Luigi.” Mario lifts his other hand to push away the shroom. “Tell me what happened. Please. What did I see?”

Luigi will never cease to be amazed that his brother, even with a bleeding wound on his forehead, can still display his innate strength. He knows Mario too well to know that he will never give up, that he’d still want to talk to him about what happened even if he were on the verge of unconsciousness. So, defeated, Luigi offers him a deal.

“Eat this,” he repeats, “and we’ll talk about it.”

Fortunately, his suggestion seems to appease Mario. After watching him for a few seconds, his brother eventually lowers his hand and allows Luigi to give him the 1-UP Super. Luigi knows how much his sibling dislikes the taste of mushrooms, but by now Mario has learned to tolerate it: he closes his eyes and swallows them almost all at once, and always lets out a little whimper of protest that warms Luigi's heart. Mario may be his older brother, he may be the bravest and most capable person he knows, he may have always protected him since they were little, but in some ways he still reminds him of a child.

And yet Luigi admires his sibling for being able to eat something he doesn't like. He struggles every time.

Within seconds, Mario's wound begins to heal. Luigi watches, dumbfounded, as the blood recedes and the skin practically regenerates, eliciting a small grunt from Mario that causes Luigi to squeeze his hand and stroke his hair in an attempt to comfort him. His brother purses his lips as he squeezes back, and Luigi smiles as he witnesses Mario trying to contain the pain and not show himself vulnerable despite the fact that, here and now, it's just the two of them.

To Mario's relief, the shroom soon completes its magic. With his forehead completely healed, Mario opens his eyes, once again glowing with his distinctive energy and vitality, and rests them on his twin. Luigi, however, is so relieved to finally see his older brother safe and sound that, as soon as he begins to sit up, Luigi throws his arms around Mario’s neck.

He doesn't even realize that he’s started to cry until he tries to speak and the lump in his throat prevents him from doing so.

Mario's laughter is like a balm that warms his heart. His brother laughs fondly and puts an arm around Luigi while he raises his other hand to pat him affectionately on his head. Still hugging him, Luigi smiles, and a strangled chuckle escapes his system as he swallows to try to quiet his crying.

“It's good to see you too, little brother,” Mario whispers.

He presses his cheek against Luigi's and Luigi closes his eyes, his heart fluttering in his chest. There's no telling where his smile ends and Mario's begins. He could stay like this forever, clinging to his sibling and feeling his twin's arms around him, providing him with a warmth more intense and comforting than that of the most blazing fire as they protect each other from any evil coming from the outside world.

Luigi needs nothing else to live.

After a few seconds, Luigi notices that his brother tries to pull apart from him to look him in the eye, but the younger plumber finds himself unable to stand up straight. His whole body feels strangely limp, as if it didn’t belong to him, and it’s impossible for him to do something as simple as opening his eyes.

Luigi then realizes that the fatigue caused by the force with which his electric magic has emerged from his body is causing the upper part of his body to slip to Joke’s End’s cold, icy floor, as both him and Mario are still on his knees, and he finds himself unable to break his fall. Mario's voice, full of alarm at his little brother’s condition, reaches Luigi’s ears muffled, and he just can’t make out his twin’s words. He does feel how Mario holds him tightly with one arm, trying to ground him, and Luigi finds himself clinging to him with what little strength he has left in his body. He rests his head on his twin's shoulder while he closes his eyelids, just for an instant, to rest for five minutes, nothing more.

For this reason he’s unable to resist when he notices that Mario brings something to his lips. Without hesitating, Luigi opens his mouth and allows his brother to give him what the green clad plumber immediately distinguishes as a 1-UP Super. He’s barely swallowed it when he begins to feel its effects: a small spark of energy springs up in his heart and starts to spread through his body in slow but intense waves, finally giving him back the vitality that the magnitude of his power had taken from him. Soon he’s aware of how Mario's arms support him while, in Italian, his brother whispers soft words of encouragement, waiting for the shroom to take effect with the little patience that Luigi knows his sibling has, but which he always displays when it comes to him.

Luigi lets out a small moan as he regains control of his body, holding on to Mario's shoulders to slowly sit up. He immediately hears his twin greet him as if he had just woken up, which, in fact, is not far from the truth.

“Hey,” Mario says softly, his tone full of gentleness. “Can you hear me, Lu? How are you feeling?”

Luigi notices Mario's fingers cupping his cheek and can practically feel the concern that tinges his voice. Still clinging to his twin's shoulders, Luigi hastens to smile, looking at him, and nods, wishing he could wipe all traces of worry from Mario's blue eyes in one fell swoop.

“I feel wonderful,” he declares.

His tone must be more convincing than he thought, because, in front of him, Mario's face begins to calm down: his frown relaxes, his eyes recover their usual spark, and a smile blooms on his lips that mirrors Luigi's, as if his brother were an earthly representation of the sun and he, the moon that feeds on his glow.

“Thank goodness,” Mario replies, giving him a gentle pat on the back.

Both his voice and his face are brimming with relief. Luigi instinctively closes his eyes the instant he notices how his twin begins to tilt his head towards him. Warmness bursts in his chest as his forehead meets his brother's, and the smile that spreads across his face at the contact is wide, serene and placid. Despite the ice that surrounds them, despite the coldness that reigns in the place where they are, far from any trace of civilization, Luigi could almost swear that never before, in all his life, has he felt more wrapped up in the warmth provided by the mere presence of his older brother.

When, seconds later, the twins separate, they give each other wide and calm smiles, both filled with joy at being together again. Mario's expression, though, gradually turns into one full of curiosity.

“So...” he says before patting Luigi's back again. “It was a thunderstorm, right?”

Luigi can't help but cringe a little. How is he going to tell Mario about something he doesn't even know how it happened? In fact... should he? What if his brother starts to see him in a different light? What if...?

What if Mario stops loving him?

“W-well...”

He doesn't realize that he's started to fiddle with his hands, as he usually does whenever he's nervous, until he feels Mario's palm, warm and pleasant, resting on his fingers before gently squeezing them. Raising his head, Luigi meets the equally sweet and affectionate gaze of his brother, radiant with all the love he feels for him.

The sight is more than enough to soothe Luigi’s racing thoughts.

“Lulu,” Mario says, still smiling, “you don’t have to be ashamed. What you did was amazing!” he exclaims, chuckling smoothly as his eyes sparkle with excitement. “You unleashed a thunderstorm all by yourself, little brother. Do you realize how incredibly powerful you are?”

Luigi stares at him in silence for a few seconds, trying to process the reality of his twin's words.

Or, he corrects himself, trying to process the fact that Mario doesn't seem at all horrified by what his younger sibling just did.

“In fact,” Mario continues before Luigi manages to come up with a response, “you're so powerful, Luigi, that not only did you get me to wake up even though I had just been hit in my head, but you made the monsters run away. Or at least,” he adds as he looks to and fro, “I don't see them anywhere.”

Looking at Luigi again, Mario winks at him as he holds both of his brother's hands in his, Luigi's fingers resting on his left palm while his right continues to tap him lightly. Luigi blinks slowly and closes his mouth at last, for he wasn't even aware of having it wide open. A shy smile begins to bloom on his lips.

“They fled like cowards in the face of the bravery and courage of my mighty little brother,” Mario then says, imprinting his voice with a proud tone that causes Luigi's smile to widen and his cheeks to start burning. “Do you hear me, monsters?” Mario suddenly shouts, turning again to one side and the other, and grabs Luigi's wrist with his right hand to raise his younger sibling’s arm in the air. “Don't even think of coming closer if you don't want to suffer the wrath of the Green Thunder!”

Luigi can't contain the laughter that escapes from the depths of his soul at the nickname his brother has just bestowed upon him, as well as his enthusiasm when boasting about him and the vigor with which he shakes Luigi’s arm. Luigi doubts that any monster is going to be scared by that, but, maybe, just maybe, what he just did is not... bad. Maybe his power has gotten out of his control, but, after all, he hasn't caused any harm.

And, besides, he’s achieved his purpose: to keep those monsters away from his big brother and prevent them from ever having a chance to harm him again.

When his laughter starts to fade, he notices that Mario was laughing too. Now he looks at Luigi with eyes sparkling with affection, and the younger plumber returns a radiant smile that he hopes will convey the same feeling to his brother. Seizing the fact that he’s still holding him by one hand, Mario begins to pull him up and they both stand up at the same time. Mario, however, doesn’t let go.

“Thank you for protecting me, Lu,” he says heartily, giving his fingers a little squeeze.

Luigi can't help blushing and massages the back of his neck with his other hand.

“You always protect me,” he replies, shrugging, “and besides, I don't even know what I did...”

“What do you mean?” Mario sounds both intrigued and confused.

“W-well...” Luigi takes a few seconds to try to find the right words. “I don't know what happened, Mario,” he declares, looking him in the eyes. “I just know that I saw you lying there, and you were bleeding, and...” He sighs, looking away again. “My Thunderhand took control. I didn't even know it was capable of creating a thunderstorm,” he admits, dejected.

Luigi drops his shoulders and massages his arm with his free hand. Mario still holds his other hand, but Luigi senses that it's only a matter of time before his brother lets go and walks away. Surely he doesn't admire him so much anymore. Surely he doesn't see him in the same way anymore. Surely...

“Then,” Mario's voice interrupts the torrent of his thoughts, and a new squeeze on his fingers causes Luigi to turn to him once more. Mario's warm smile disarms him completely. “Maybe we can find a way together that you can do this while maintaining control.”

At first, Luigi isn't sure he fully understands what his twin is referring to. It takes a while for his brain to register what his twin means: that Luigi should learn how to be in control in case he needs, or wants to, create another thunderstorm in the future.

It hadn't occurred to him that there might be a way.

“You’ll see how they will call you Green Thunder then,” Mario adds, amused, and gives him a gentle punch on the shoulder.

Luigi chuckles at his joke, and an idea suddenly comes to his mind.

“Do you think you could do something like that with your Firebrand too?” he asks, curious.

This time it's Mario who stares at him dumbfounded.

“Well... I hadn’t thought about it,” he admits, putting his hand to his chin and tapping his finger pensively.

“Then that’s one more thing we have to research,” Luigi suggests, suddenly filled with a determination that only Mario could have infected him with. “What do you think, big bro?”

“Fair enough, little bro” nods his sibling, giving him another wink.

With no need for words, the two break contact in unison, only to raise their arms and high five. Luigi laughs, feeling not only relieved that Mario still loves him the same way, but pleased that they’re going to further investigate both his electrical power and his twin's igneous magic. He hopes to come up with an appropriate nickname for Mario and his Firebrand in the process.

“I guess we'll have to get out of here first,” Mario adds jokingly. “Let’s-a go!”

“Okie-dokie!”

And, together again, they set off.

[babygirl-diaz]

Tattooed Golden Retriever

This is once again dedicated to @sarastars who gave me the idea for the fic.

Considering what's going on in the show right now, it kinda hurt writing this.

Summary: 5 Times Eddie scratches Buck's head and he falls asleep + 1 time he doesn't and Eddie kisses him.

***

i. Eddie was busy reading a spy novel on the couch when he felt something heavy on his lap. He looked down to see Buck smiling up at him.

"Uh... Hello?" Eddie chuckled, and his hand automatically moved into Buck's hair.

"Mmmm... Read to me," Buck mumbled and made himself comfortable, practically nuzzling Eddie's thigh like a cat, making him feel all sorts of things that he refused to acknowledge. "Also, give me head scratches."

"If I do that, you're gonna fall asleep, Buck, and Bobby will not be happy," Eddie told him but absentmindedly scratched his head.

"I don't care," Buck replied and made happy noises as Eddie continued to scratch his head. "Now read to meeeeee..." He whined and bumped his nose against Eddie's thigh.

Eddie sighed and started reading. "The rain slashed across the grimy windows of the safe house, mirroring the tension that thrummed through Anya Petrova's veins. She clutched the burner phone, its cold metal a stark contrast to the warmth radiating from the freshly brewed cup of tea in her other hand. The voice on the other end of the line crackled with static, but Anya recognized it instantly. It was her handler-" Eddied stopped when he heard snoring and looked down to see that Buck had fallen asleep.

"He's like a goddamn puppy," Chimney commented as he sat down on the armchair with his bowl of fruit.

"More like a tattooed golden retriever," Eddie said fondly and smiled at a sleeping Buck as he continued to gently run his fingers through his curls.

"Mmmhmm..." Chimney hummed

Eddie looked up to find his coworker and friend giving him a knowing look before going back to his fruit bowl.

***

ii. It was the end of a very long shift and Eddie was getting ready to go home when Buck sat down beside him on the locker room bench with a heavy sigh. He put his head on Eddie's shoulder and let out another sigh. "'m tired," Buck complained.

Eddie lifted his hand to scratch Buck's head, who made a delighted sound.

"Yeah, I'm tired too," Eddie replied, yawning. "We all are. It was a long-ass shift."

Eddie kept scratching Buck's head and soon heard soft snoring. "Buck?" He called out but got no response in return.

"No," Eddie mumbled. He knew he wouldn't be able to move until Buck woke up. Because Eddie would rather die than wake him up. So he instead kept scratching his head and put his own head down on top of Buck's, closing his eyes.

***

iii. The next time it happened, they were at a BBQ at Bobby and Athena's place. Eddie sat on the floor talking to Karen and Hen while eating his lunch when he felt someone sit beside him. He looked over to find Buck smiling at him like a goof. "What?" He asked.

"I need head scratches," Buck replied like a little child.

Eddie blushed a little and looked at Hen and Karen to find them giving him an amused look.

Buck removed the empty plate from Eddie's lap and put it on the coffee table before putting his head down instead. "Head scratches! " He demanded.

Eddie rolled his eyes and started scratching Buck's head, letting his blunt fingernails move through the curls in slow motion.

He went back to talking to Hen and Karen like this was the most normal thing in the world. They looked a little confused before continuing the conversation.

Soon Buck fell asleep on Eddie's lap and Eddie gave him a fond glance.

"What?" He asked when he found Hen and Karen giving him a knowing look, similar to the one Chimney had given him a couple weeks ago.

"Nothing," Karen replied with a shrug. "You two are so comfortable with each other."

"We've been friends for 8 years," Eddie replied. He couldn't believe his own ears as he said that.

"You ever thought of having something more with him?"

Eddie was taken aback by Karen's question and saw Hen bumping her shoulder against her wife's, and shaking her head.

Eddie blushed once again and shook his head. "We're just meant to be friends."

"Of course," Karen replied with a smirk.

***

iv. During one of their calls, the 118 ended up saving a puppy that was only a few months old. The golden retriever was adorable, and Eddie loved dogs, so he took charge of the dog while they waited for her family to come and take her. She followed Eddie around everywhere and Eddie fed her food that Bobby made for her and also sneakily fed her some from his plate. After dinner, Sheena, as her name tag had suggested her name was decided she wanted to play. Eddie found a ball in the lost-and-found box and threw it for her, which she went and caught and brought back to him. Then she started giving him kisses, making him laugh and roll around on the floor of the fire station loft.

"Sheena, stop!" Eddie laughed and grabbed her face, giving her kisses in return.

She put her chin down on Eddie's knee when she finished playing and Eddie immediately knew what she wanted. He chuckled and started scratching her head and behind her ear. As he kept doing that, Sheena soon fell asleep with her chin on Eddie's lap.

Eddie heard someone clear their throat and looked up from the floor to see Buck pouting at him. "What's wrong?" Eddie asked worriedly.

"She's taking my place," Buck huffed and sat down beside Eddie.

"She's a three-month-old puppy, Buck," Eddie reminded him.

"I don't care. The head scratches are mine," Buck said possessively and lay down on the floor, putting his head on Eddie's other thigh.

"Buck, what are you doing?" Eddie laughed. "Come on, get up."

"Give me head scratches!" Buck demanded, like he always did.

"Buck, everyone is looking," Eddie told him but moved his other hand into Buck's hair, anyway.

"I don't care. No one is taking my head scratches away from me," Buck adamantly told him.

Eddie sighed and ran his fingers through Buck's scalp, scratching it gently.

Just as always, Buck was soon asleep.

"Eddie, the Smith family are he-" Bobby stopped mid-sentence and raised his eyebrows.

"Do you mind taking Sheena? I can't get up," Eddie told him.

Bobby sighed and nodded, "Okay." He went to pick up Sheena, who woke up and started squirming.

Eddie gave her a sad look and let her give him kisses again. He gave her kisses too and then watched sadly as Bobby carried her away.

***

v. Buck, Eddie, and Christopher were playing video games at Buck's loft with Eddie sitting in between Buck and Christopher. Buck and Eddie were playing against each other and Christopher was cheering them on, taking Buck's side this time. Eddie ended up winning and high-fived himself while Buck and Christopher booed him. But then Buck put his head on Eddie's shoulder and yawned. "Head scratches," he demanded as always.

Eddie snorted and shook his head. "Such a child," he teased and started scratching Buck's head at an awkward angle.

He looked at Christopher to find him giving them a confused look.

"It's a new thing with him, where he wants head scratches and then falls asleep," Eddie explained.

Christopher grinned and put his head down on Eddie's other shoulder. "Head scratches," he demanded as well.

To say that Eddie was surprised would be an understatement. He never expected his 16-year-old son to demand head scratches from him but he'd be damned if he denied the request. Some part of his brain said, "Like father, like son," but he ignored it.

Smiling widely, he started running his fingers through Christopher's curls as well.

Soon both Buck and Christopher were fast asleep while Eddie stayed wide awake between them, happily giving them head scratches.

***

i. Eddie was trying to finish the novel on his bed while Buck and Christopher played games in the living room. It was summer vacation so Eddie let Christopher stay up late, but in the end, it looked like it was Buck who was exhausted. These days, he slept in Eddie's room when he stayed over because something had shifted in their relationship. Eddie wasn't sure what though. So when Buck came into the room, Eddie looked up from his book and smiled. "You good?" He asked.

Buck fell face-first into Eddie's lap. "I'm tired," he mumbled.

"And you want head scratches?" Eddie asked, chuckling.

Buck turned around and put his head on Eddie's lap before nodding, "Love how you know me so well."

Eddie ran his fingers through Buck's hair and Buck yawned but smiled goofily up at Eddie instead of sleeping like usual. He looked so beautiful, so peaceful, though.

"C-can I kiss you?" The words were out of Eddie's mouth before he could stop himself and he nervously bit down on his bottom lip.

"Thought you'd never ask," Buck replied, smirking.

Eddie leaned down and captured Buck's lips in a gentle, chaste kiss.

When he pulled away, Buck looked at him with a pout. "What was that? I expected more from you!"

Buck sat up on his knees and pulled Eddie close, kissing him hard. Eddie let out a choked sound in the kiss, which Buck swallowed. In his two years dating men, Eddie had never been kissed like this.

[groovebunker]

i’m gonna be obnoxious about this and people are just going to have to be cool about that. yes? good.

happy birthday to what would you do (if they ever found us out) (affectionately known as wwyd)!!! a year ago today, i posted chapter one and (i’m not being dramatic here) i think it changed my life?

little backstory: i’m a dyke with eyes and a type, so when i watched fran drescher making impassioned speeches about labour rights, i was both smitten and reminded that i’d been meaning to watch the nanny. i was also (mostly unbeknownst to me) about as mentally ill as i’ve ever been in my life. i was halfway through a phd which i loved but it was making me so, so unwell. anyway, i started watching the nanny as some kind of escapism and one night, i was like…has anyone thought of fran and cc kissing on the mouth? and they had (obviously) and so i started thinking about that and how whine cellar is a deeply disappointing episode in so many ways and then i was like ‘i can fix that! with a one shot!’.

fast fwd to april 2024. i’m in my favourite city in the world. i’m posting the 11th chapter of that one shot far too late at night (sorry sara). it’s ended up about 85k words long. i’m no longer a phd candidate. i’m significantly less mentally ill. and i’ve spent the last 8 or so months being held by a group of people i would never have met if i had never started writing again.

i didn't quit my phd to write fan fiction, obviously. but writing fic helped me realise how unhappy i was because it was something that gave me joy in a time that was so fucking bleak. i don't really like thinking about it too much but it wasn't great. and then i had this lifeline. these two idiots (affectionate) falling in love with one another, not only in wwyd but all the other fics i was writing. and talking about with people who were commenting and finding me on tumblr. and then, eventually, we weren't just talking about fran and cc, we were talking about our lives! because we were friends!

people will tell you before you start a phd that it's a lonely experience. i was the only history student in my cohort. i only met one of my supervisors in person at his leaving drinks. i have two friends i met at my uni, one of whom was the first person i told that i had to quit. i had other friends and an incredible, loving, patient partner, and they were amazing. but still, it was lonely.

and then i just fucking wasn't.

january ‘24, the squad evolved from being my stupid tumblr tag to being the most chaotic group chat i have ever been part of (until nic got us nicely organised). a week or so later, i quit the phd. and i told a bunch of people i’d never met that i was dropping out of grad school and they were so fucking kind. i will never forget that. the squad, in all its iterations, will have my heart for my whole life. i will not rest until i have annoyed you all in person. my dream is winning the lottery and flying you all to a villa in spain for a week so i can cook you dinner (and cass can make bread) every night and drink wine and splash about in the sun (or in sara’s case, hide in the shade and probably yell at us to put sun screen on). when i say i love you, i mean it so wholly and truly.

anyway, back to wwyd. it’s not my first fic. i’ve been writing on and off for 15 long, long years. but i hadn't written a ton for a while (other than my aloto fic bc gretson my beloved) and i really kind of expected to get a couple of comments and a few kudos. i just had a story that wanted to get out so i published the first few chapters in really rather quick succession (i’m sorry to anyone who reads my stuff, my adhd is too bad for a posting schedule) and people…loved it? like, really loved it. which was so nice because i’m gonna be honest, there was not an adoring audience for my academic work (perils of being a genocide scholar). and i know it's become quite a few people’s comfort fic. i know people have reread it, more than once in some cases, which feels wild. people have left the most wonderful comments, said the kindest things, drawn gorgeous art, made a fanmix (which is fucking amazing), followed along on this journey which i did not expect them to do.

i don't have favourite children (b&w fans, i promise you, the next chapter is in the works) but if i did, wwyd might be one. sure, she's my difficult eldest child. but she got me into a fandom for the first time in years, she’s given me friends i know I will hold onto for the rest of my life, she reminded me how much fun writing can be. and she’s spawned so much more because she made me so much more confident as a writer.

so i don't think i’m being overdramatic when i say it changed my life. if you’d told me all of this when i hit publish on chapter one last year, i would have told you to fuck off. relatively vehemently. but i’m better now. and i’m so fucking grateful for this fic for being part of what gave me that.

anyway, thanks for letting me be a bit self indulgent - promise you don't have to sit through this ever again (maybe for won't you when i finally get it done. i’m sorry. i’m verbose). and once again, to everyone who has read wwyd, given it kudos, commented, reblogged a chapter on tumblr, all of it, my eternal thanks. i couldn't have done it without you.

finally, because i cannot say it enough, to the squad, you have my whole heart. it’s actually mad to me that this time last year, i had no idea who any of you were. your stamp on the last few chapters of wwyd is indelible. your stamp on my life is somehow more permanent than that. thank you. ilsym 🫶🏻

[wintrwinchestr]

bad girl (joel miller x f!reader oneshot) 18+

summary: you broke one of joel's rules, and he punishes you for it. but he can never stay disappointed with you for long, not when all you wanna do is be his good girl.

warnings: 18+ (inappropriate language & allusion to smut), big time daddy kink!!! (bordering on ddlg?), pet names (babygirl, lil' girl, sweetheart, darlin,' sugar, honey), punishment, spanking (not very descriptive), lil bit of subspace, protective daddy!joel, no physical description of reader, lil bit of humiliation, praise, please let me know if i missed anything or should correct something!!

word count: 1.6k

a/n: hi!! this is the first fic i've written in like 5 or 6 years, and definitely the first creative writing i've done in a long time. i also don't really know how to write smut but i'm hoping to learn how and get more confidence to try more writing!! (nice/polite) comments welcome, thank you for reading!!

Crouching behind a large, moss-covered tree stump, you curiously observed the doe and two fawns grazing just a couple of yards in front of you. You tried to keep your breathing quiet and shallow so as not to startle them, a task that proved difficult with the way your heart was nervously pounding. You knew you weren’t allowed outside of Jackson’s walls without Joel, but you had overheard some of the others talking about a family of deer they had seen on the woods’ perimeter as they returned from their patrol. You were eager to see them for yourself, even if it meant breaking one of Joel’s rules.

The sharp sound of a branch snapping behind you caused the creatures to swiftly bound away, and you quickly turned around with a startled gasp.

You almost screamed, thinking you would turn your head to see an Infected approaching you. Instead, your stomach dropped at the sight of Joel, sporting a disappointed scowl. Your heartrate quickened even further, knowing you were caught disobeying him. You suddenly felt like one of the scared little fawns as you were still crouched below his towering form.

“The hell do you think you’re doin’ out here, sweetheart?” He asked in a low tone, slowly approaching you while staring daggers into your nervous gaze.

“I… I was just… just wanted to see the…” you tried to explain, looking around and gesturing to where the deer had been standing just a few seconds ago.

“Up,” he ordered, making a motion with his pointer finger for you to stand up. You obeyed immediately, knowing better than to not follow his commands at this point. “Turn around, and walk until I tell you to stop. Hold your hands behind your back.” His voice sounded dark, rumbling from deep in his chest.

You turned your back to him, and let out another little gasp when he came up behind you and gripped the back of your neck, your cue to start walking.

After several minutes of trudging deeper into the damp forest with your hands held obediently behind your back and your head hung low, Joel ordered you to stop once you had reached a small clearing. He released his hand from its firm grip at the base of your skull and spun you around to face him.

“On your knees f’ me, babygirl. Come on now...”

You followed his order without hesitation and knelt at his feet, the cool forest floor providing some relief to your flushed skin. 

Unable to bring yourself to look at him on your own, Joel gripped your chin between his thumb and pointer finger and tilted your head, forcing your gaze upward.

“You look at me when I’m speakin’ t’ you,” he demanded, giving your chin a little shake. “Y’ know why I came and found you, why I marched you all the way out here? Hm? Don’t you think about lyin’ to me, lil’ girl…”

You struggled to nod your head against his tight grip, your eyes beginning to water. You started to reach your hands toward his crotch in a desperate attempt to please him and shift the focus away from your disobedience.

“Nuh uh, you keep those hands behind your fuckin’ back, babygirl. You dont’ get to touch Daddy ‘til you admit t’ what you did. Tell Daddy… were you a good girl or a bad girl today, hm?”

You did as he ordered and returned your hands to their previous resting position against the small of your back. You didn’t want to admit to him or yourself that you had messed up today, broken one of the rules he had for you. But you knew that you were already caught, he already knew the truth, and you were getting punished no matter what.

“B… Bad girl, Daddy,” you confessed, your voice coming out small and meek.

“Yeah, tha’s right. You were a bad fuckin’ girl today.” Your obedient admission of guilt prompted him to shift his harsh demeanor to a softer one. “Why were you a bad girl, darlin’, huh? Tell Daddy what you did.” He could never stay too mean with you for long, he loved you too much to not be sweet on you. 

He began to comb his fingers across your scalp, and the sensation made your eyelids start to feel heavy, sending you deeper into your soft state of submission. Still kneeling, you shuffled closer to him, and this time, he allowed you to wrap your hands around his calf. 

“I- I left the town by myself… Didn’ tell you where I was goin’...” 

“Yeah, you sure did, honey. And why does that make you a bad girl, hm? Come on, don’t float away from me jus’ yet.” He gave your cheek a soft pat, bringing you back down to Earth a bit.

“B- because I made Daddy worry about me. Somethin’ b- bad could’ve happened to me and you wouldn’t’a kn- known where I was.” 

“Tha’s right, sugar. Thank you for bein’ honest with Daddy...” He stopped stroking your hair in favor of cupping the side of your face, softly rubbing your cheekbone with his thumb. Joel was always good at understanding you when you struggled to speak through your little hiccups and sobs. “You know you’re not suppose’ta leave Jackson without me, darlin’. It’s dangerous outside the walls, I gotta be with you, gotta protect my lil’ girl, yeah?”

“I know… I’m s- sorry, Daddy. Won’t h- happen again, I promise. Don’ wanna be a bad girl–”

“Shh, I know darlin’, I know,” he interrupted before you could get yourself too worked up, squatting down to your level and using his thumbs to softly wipe away a few tears that had spilled over onto your heated cheeks. “Always wanna be so good for me, isn’t that right? Sweet lil’ thing loves bein’ Daddy’s good girl, doesn’t she?”

“Yes, Daddy, love bein’ good for you, always wanna be good for you...”

“I know, honey, I know. But you were bad today, breakin’ my rules. The rules I have to keep you safe, to protect you... I think that deserves at least a few spankin’s, don’t ya think? Hm? Since you were honest with Daddy, I’ll make ‘em softer today. Ten sound okay, sugar?”

You gave him an eager nod, more willing to accept your punishment now that he promised not to spank you too hard. He raised his eyebrows at your silent response, not completely satisfied.

“Yes, Daddy,” you spoke up to correct yourself.

“Good girl, tha’s better. C’mon over here, over my knee. We’ll do ten spanks, and if you take all of ‘em without any whinin’, I’ll let you have a lil’ treat… How’s that sound?”

“Sounds good, Daddy…” You nodded, starting to calm down a bit. You got up from your kneeling position and made your way over to where Joel was now sat on a fallen log. He patted his thighs with a “C’mere, baby,” and you obediently bent yourself over his lap. He reached underneath your tummy to unbutton your jeans and gently pulled them down, along with your panties, to expose your plush bottom to him.

He delivered the ten spanks, making them softer than usual as promised, but they stung nonetheless. After all, they still had to hurt a little bit if you were going to learn your lesson and remember to follow his rules. 

You thanked him for your punishment and stood up, facing him, but still struggled to look him in the eye and felt guilty for disobeying him.

“I really am sorry, Daddy…” you said quietly, almost a whisper.

He used one hand to gently lift up your chin to make your eyes meet, and the other to stroke through your hair again.

“I know y’ are, honey. Thank you for apologizing to Daddy. You took your punishment so well for me, baby, my good lil’ girl... Daddy just wants to keep you safe, tha’s all… You know that, right? You know that’s why Daddy’s gotta punish you sometimes?”

You nodded in understanding as he pulled your underwear back up over your bottom and eyed the wet spot that had begun to form on the front of them.

“Oh, sweetheart, look at that… Looks like we might have to find a different punishment to use from now on, won’t we? Seems like you might enjoy this one a bit too much… My naughty girl…” He ran his knuckles over the damp fabric, making you whimper at the contact. “Why don’t we get you back to the house and take care of this needy pussy, hm? Can’t even get a spankin’ without her droolin’ for me…”

“Please, Daddy…” your breath hitched as you rocked into his touch, arousal heating up at his brief humiliation.

“Patience, babygirl… Eager lil’ thing… I said if you took your spankin’s without any whinin’ you’d get a treat, didn’t I?” He pulled your jeans back up over your underwear and buttoned them, giving you one last soft pat on your bottom before standing back up to his full height. “C’mon, sweet girl, let’s get you taken care of…”

You walked with him hand-in-hand back to Jackson, your bottom still stinging with each step, but feeling grateful for your Joel who loves you, protects you, gives you a firm hand when you need it, and takes care of all of your needs. The pair of you got some knowing and slightly judgmental looks from some of the more gossipy townsfolk as you re-entered the gates of Jackson, but you couldn’t have cared less. Not when your Daddy was about to take you up to his bedroom, lay you down on his bed, and make you feel like the most perfect girl in what’s left of the world. His perfect girl.

[3terna15unshin3]

Connected

—

A/N: idea came from this ask, so thank u anon🥰🥰 it was so fun to think of how Matty and Este’s relationship was seen from the other side like what fans pick up on, and also establish how much they decide to share with fans vs keep to themselves. this concept is so interesting to me but i had a hard time writing from the pov of a fan hahaha so i just did it this way instead :))

This obvs is based heavily on TBSG lore so none of this makes sense if you haven’t read the main fic - go do that first!! and also check out the Instagram AUs, they add to the pizazz

—

“Love, look what I just saw on Twitter. This is hilarious.”

Este points her phone screen towards Matty as they sit in bed on a Sunday morning. He yawns, tired and still half asleep, then blinks his eyes a few times to read what she’s showing him. It’s a tweet from a fan that sits in her mentions from a couple of days ago when a clip from his Zane Lowe interview resurfaced.

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

thinking about the fact that matty mentioned meeting e.manansala when she worked at a bookstore in manc to zane and in this 2018 interview he said his fav spot in the city is Greenhouse Books …….. what are the chances this is the same bookstore bc that would be so😭😭😭💔💔💔💔 https://manchesterwire.co.uk/?s=matty+healy+give-yourself-a-try/arts&culture/article

jaymie SAW UNDO LIVE trmanb1ackk

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND

Hold on you might be onto something

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

→ Replying to trmanb1ackk

right like okaayyy bookstore worker x customer to lovers notting hill pipeline????? 🤭 huge if true

She watches his eyes scan over the text and a fuzzy smile grow on his face. Matty loves talking about Este when he can—to bring some much deserved attention to her writing—and did so often, but does’t always mention many the details of their relationship. That was until strolling around the Northern Quarter with Zane brought a bit of it out of him.

Este is what brings him back to Manchester the most often, from visiting her family and Cate and Georgia to just needing a bit of a homey feeling from its familiar pubs and nostalgic shops. So, naturally, Matty talked about her in the interview done for the release of Being Funny—explaining how they’d met and how much the city means to them both.

“How they put two and two together is beyond me,” he says, scratching his head. “That Manchester Wire interview was five years ago now, you know. Did you ever read that?”

She chuckles. “Course I did! We had a few fans come in that summer with the sole intention of coming to a place you recommended, actually.”

“Why have you never told me that?” Matty asks, “You’re welcome for the business, by the way.”

“You never even told me about your little shout out, to be fair. I had to find out on my own,” Este teases. “Plus, we weren’t even a thing at that point—we’d met once! Quite creepy, in retrospect.”

“When you put it like that it’s honestly so cringe so please change the subject now.” Matty buries his head in the bunches of sheets that sit in her lap, embarrassed and frankly too sleepy to defend himself.

Este giggles, letting her hands settle into his curls. “Oh c’mon, you weren’t cringe. I’m just pulling your leg. It was sweet,” she reassures him.

“You’re just saying that because you feel bad,” he whines, then rubs his eyes to try and get the sleep out of them. “That’s so crazy that they dug that up, though. I’m not sure if many people know you’ve been around since then.”

“They probably looked at your life in 2019 and figured you were a rockstar with a new girl in every city but in reality you were calling me to get to sleep every night and doing origami in your free time because it reminded you of me.”

Matty’s jaw drops at her blunt comments. “I was about to get mad but I can’t even disagree.” He sits up, raking the hair out of his eyes. “Do people still use the word ‘simp’? Can that be applied to this situation? Was I a simp?”

She throws her head back, mouth wide, as she laughs at how ridiculous his question is.

“Please don’t say ‘simp’, love. You’re 34.” Este squeezes out between her giggles, “But no, people don’t use that word anymore. And yes it can be applied. And also yes, you were. And still are.”

“Proudly am,” he adds.

She leans into his side and he snakes his arm around her waist. They sit there, Matty only in a pair of pyjama pants and her an oversized tee, scrolling through the funny replies to the tweet and how big of a deal some fans were making it.

“You should respond. Tell Megs that she’s right.”

“Seriously?” Este asks, shocked that he’d want her to engage in something so meaningless and speculative.

But alas, he nods casually with a smile. “Yeah. They seem sweet, and just curious. And maybe being such a simp will give me some brownie points,” confirms Matty.

“God, enough of that word!”

Este e.manansala

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND

Can confirm🤝

liv livmymistake_

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND and e.manansala

MEGS OH MY GOD

Jude 🥾🌎 ittsjudesk

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND and e.manansala

UMMMMMMMMMMM

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

→ Replying to e.manansala

omg hi😭😭😭 are being fr i can’t cope

Este e.manansala

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND

Greenhouse is the bookstore i worked at and is where matty and i met that year:)) and hi💌

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

→ Replying to e.manansala

i think i’m psychic for guessing that🤭🤭🤭🤭

—

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

k now i’m going crazy bc i had no clue him and este had been dating for that long💀 was genuinely convinced it had been 3 years max

Jude 🥾🌎 ittsjudesk

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND

Literally they didn’t post each other until like 2020

sarah🧸 _102sar

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND

I think she was at the 2018 Pryzm show too. Not sure but I was at the after party and remember seeing her there lol

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

→ Replying to _102sar

WHAT…….. this lore being uncovered omg

“Someone recognises you from the Brief Inquiry album release show?!” exclaims Matty in disbelief. “There’s no way.”

They still sit in bed as Este types away, having fun interacting with the small group. He leans his head on her shoulder and watches her as she does it.

“They’ve known you longer than I have, you know. They know their stuff,” she responds.

“Even I don’t remember you being at the Pryzm show.”

Este’s mouth falls open in shock, thoroughly offended. “You prick.”

“I’m joking!” Matty defends through fits of laughter. “C’mon E, I’m joking.”

She knows he is, but enjoys the theatrics of it all; shoving his head off her shoulder and scooting away from his touch in protest.

“That was a special night for me! The first time I saw you play and met the guys! Don’t make fun!” Este pouts, crossing her arms playfully.

“Fine. I take it back, I take it back,” Matty begs, dragging her back over to him and bringing her legs over top of his. He grabs her hand and places a kiss on her palm. “I remember meeting Cate, and introducing you to Louis. And Ross making fun of my gallbladder surgery, and leaving Cate on the dance floor to get drinks, and screaming at each other over the music at the bar. You telling me about the anniversary party. I very much remember!”

“Okay, okay. Enough gushing. I forgive you.”

Matty pecks her palm once more and shuffles her even closer. “Open Twitter back up. This is fun.”

Jude 🥾🌎 ittsjudesk

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND and _102sar

This is absolutely shocking bc how did his chronically online ass manage to hide a whole gf that long

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

→ Replying to ittsjudesk

fr!!! like do we think she was on the abiior tour with them bc i swear jordan absolutely fed us with so much bts content it would be impossible to miss?? someone dig

sarah🧸 _102sar

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1D and ittsjudesk

If u scroll back on her IG u can see Matty in her comments since then. And they’d repost each other on their stories and stuff🥲 So not that hidden if ur a stalker like me lmao

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

→ Replying to _102sar

thoroughly upset that i missed so much bf matty content </3

Este e.manansala

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND and _102sar

Ignore me stalking u🤭🤭 i was indeed at that Pryzm show lol but we weren’t dating yet. And during abiior tour I saw a few UK shows but otherwise i was just in Manc working/being a bad groupie x

Este e.manansala

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND

Also matty is sitting beside me now and he is cool with me filling u in (it was his idea) and he says hi. and that u guys are cute

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

→ Replying to e.manansala

ohhh yes u are a working woman how could i forget!! bookstore worker/groupie same difference. thank u for responding😭 u are the coolest❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 (also hi matty😳)

Jude 🥾🌎 ittsjudesk

→ Replying to e.manansala

Hi Matty sorry for calling u chronically online x

Este e.manansala

→ Replying to ittsjudesk

He forgives you (but it’s true imo)

liv livmymistake_

→ Replying to e.manansala

este wait i have to know …. since u are a former bookstore girlie turned writer are u the reason matty periodically spam posts a bunch of literature on his instagram stories???? did u convert him to bookstoregirlieism??

Este e.manansala

→ Replying to livmymistake_

I am obsessed with the idea that he was illiterate before meeting me so i’m gonna say yes. thank u for that

Este e.manansala

→ Replying to livmymistake_

Liv it’s me I stole the phone and don’t appreciate this sentiment tbh. You should know I’ve always been a wanker so all the literature spams are just me letting that out and este just enables me. hope that helps x Matty

[iam93percentstardust]

It's not just the commodification of fandom. It's not just the disinterest in wips in favor of completed stories. It's not just the unwillingness to take chances on new writers.

It's the demand for instant gratification too.

I'm posting a "wip" right now. It's actually a fully completed story, and I stated that in the A/N when I started posting it a few weeks ago. I finished writing it early in December. It's not going to be abandoned and discontinued. Short of a tragic accident, it will 100% be posted in its entirety before the end of January.

It's also almost 60k words long. Each chapter is approximately 14k words. That's a lot to expect people to read quickly, so I made the decision to post weekly instead of dumping it all at once. I don't normally do that for wips. I normally post bimonthly to give myself time to write the next chapter. But in concession to the fact that this one is already finished, I decided to post once a week. Could I have posted it all at once or even once a day? Sure, but again, I have more than a few close friends who are slow readers, and I thought it was better to give people the time to read each chapter and let it digest before dumping another one on them instead of making them feel like they have to read it immediately so they don't miss the next update.

This, apparently, was a mistake.

I've been very open about working on this fic since I started it in September. People told me they were excited to get the chance to read it every time I posted an update about where I was in the writing process. When I announced that I was posting it, they told me that they couldn't wait to read it. It's not like I was expecting massive numbers of kudos and comments; this fandom has shrunk in size and engagement, I'm not the most popular writer in it, and I try not to feel entitled to engagement, but considering all the people telling me they were excited for it, I was expecting something.

Instead it was crickets. All those people who were so excited and told me they couldn't wait to get home to read it? That was the last I heard from them, unless it was to express outright incredulity that I expected them to read a work in progress. "It's not a work in progress!" I protested. "I'm just taking a little longer to post it!" Yeah, but it's not posted all in one go, so why should we bother to read it? We'll just wait until the end of January once it's finished. "Will I hear from you then? Will I get any indication at all that you liked it?" Eh, maybe. If we feel like it. But it'll only be one comment at the very end. If that.

This keeps happening. If it's not an already completed chaptered fic that I'm posting over time instead of immediately, then it's an idea that I had first talked about a while ago but took a couple months to write only to be met with silence once I start posting because everyone moved on and forgot about it. If it's not ready to go right now in all its fully finished glory and all 60k words posted immediately after I first spoke about it, then why am I talking about it at all? Why should I expect people to be waiting in anticipatory eagerness?

I remember when I posted my first Christmas event fic in 2020. It was already finished too when I started posting it. I'd been talking about it all year. People had seemed really excited for it when I first mentioned it, but then interest seemed to die out somewhere around August. By the time I started posting it in late November, I was fully convinced that no one was going to read it. I actually posted the first chapter and then immediately turned my computer off and didn't let myself turn it back on until the next day.

I was shocked by the number of readers I had. The number of comments. The sheer amount of people telling me they'd been waiting on tenterhooks for me to post that first chapter. And it kept coming. People were talking and theorizing and marking their conversations with spoiler bars for anyone who hadn't read the latest chapter. People timed when I posted the first few chapters so they could be waiting by their computer for when I dropped the next one. I was randomly gifted art. It was really an event, and I'll always be grateful for the support and community I was given for that month.

I never believed I'd ever be able to capture that kind of readership again, and I was right, and that's okay. But when I posted last year's Christmas event fic, for the first time since I started doing this in 2020, someone asked me why I bothered to space it out over a month instead of just posting the entire thing in one go on Christmas Day and how could I possibly expect them to be that invested for an entire month instead of just waiting until it was finished. I didn't know how to tell them that only three years prior, that's not only exactly what people did but they were excited for it to be like that.

If I'm not going to post my already completed fic in one lump sum right now, then the audience for it is nonexistent. And the audience won't grow once it's finished. It's like I have one opportunity to capture the readers and if they weren't willing to take the chance on the first chapter, then they'll never come back. It's disheartening, to say the least. Only six months ago, I was telling a friend that I thought this was my forever pairing, that I'd still be writing for this ship when I was old and grey. And now I'm going through my ideas folder, wondering what can be repurposed for other ships, because I increasingly feel not just that I'm shouting into a void but that the void is actively ignoring me.

I can't post wips because what if I abandon them or take too long to update? I can't post a chaptered fic in one go because that's too many words to expect people to read. But I can't space out posting completed chaptered fics either because everyone wants the instant gratification of the full fic right now. So what am I supposed to do?

I miss December 2020, but it's not the random art that I miss or the kudos or the number of comments. It was the community that built up around this fic. It was knowing that it was okay to space out the chapters because everyone was still right there with me, talking and theorizing and using their spoiler bars. It was my audience trusting me enough to come along with me for the ride instead of waiting for me to be done. I was so scared back then that the full year between me first talking about the idea and posting the first chapter had lost me my audience, scared that they'd all forgotten about me and moved on to other authors who were quicker to post, but I wish I'd known that three years later, it would only take four months for people to lose interest in an idea.

I'd have treated December 2020 like it was way more special than I did.

[annestie]

Headcanons for Ma' Yawntu #1

I have a ongoing fic posted on my Ao3 and I have some head-cannons for that au! I've just been collecting them so I thought I would post some because I finally have somewhere to put them. Warning, this will probably have like a ton of spoilers for the current chapters (1-19) in it!

1. Neteyam is not a crier. That's true until he's pregnant. After that it seems tears just want to pour from his eyes.

“I cannot believe this,” Neteyam says. Tears fall down his cheeks, dripping from his chin.

“Ma’ Yawntu, the fruit just fell in the sand. You only need to wash it,” Ao’nung reassures him.

“I know,” Neteyam responds through his tears.

2. Neteyam’s siblings basically live with him half the time. Ao’nung often comes home to all four siblings just hanging out there without Neteyam. They also particularly like to partake in the food Ao'nung and Neteyam have around their marui. The couple noticed this and they began to hunt and gather more food to make sure they always had something.

“Hello people who do not live here,” Ao’nung welcomes the other four.

“Hi!” Tuk says happily back.

“You guys have the best food,” Spider says as he continues munching on a bag of dried meat.

3. Jake had no idea that male na’vi could get pregnant. The moment he found out was when Neteyam said it. That’s why he waited for Neytiri to respond first before doing anything. But because its pandora, Jake just went with it and whatever reaction Neytiri had. Before he thought he only had to worry about Kiri and Tuk, he now worries about Lo’ak and, somewhat, Spider too. Also seriously questioned his decision to not have a longer talk with Neytiri about this.

“Is there anything else I should know?” Jake asks after the two of them arrive back to their marui.

“The reverse is true as well,” Neytiri states, “Some women can get others pregnant.” Yeah, Jake really should have listened closer to that training course all those years ago.

4. Neteyam naps like everywhere because of how tired he is due to his child. Like sometimes Ao’nung will be looking for him and just find him laying on a mangrove root or around the beach/forest asleep.

“Have you seen Neteyam?” Ao’nung asks. Kiri simply points above her, towards a mangrove root. There, Ao’nung sees Neteyam somehow curled atop it, sleeping.

5. Ao'nung really likes to compliment/flatter Neteyam.

“Why are you staring at me?” Neteyam asks as he undoes the tie to his loincloth. “You’ve already seen every part of me,” he comments throwing it aside with their other dirty clothes and grabbing a clean one to put on.

“I’ve seen the sunset thousands of times. It doesn’t stop me from looking,” Ao’nung tells him, looking him up and down.

Neteyam playfully rolls his eyes and finishes tying his new loincloth. “Skxáwng!” he calls out to the other man as he leaves their marui.

Ma' Yawntu is on my Ao3 account if you want to read it

#2

[theskee]

One of the funniest experiences I've ever had with The Purity Police in fandom on AO3 happened a couple years ago and every so often I remember that it happened and get a little laugh out of it all over again. I thought I'd share it today. Here's what happened: I wrote a fic tagged with an incestuous pairing and *only* that incestuous pairing. In the additional tags were the following things (after some general additional characters and setting details like "time travel):

Incest, identity fuckery, Accidental Incest, Underage Smoking, Underage Drinking, Underage Sex, Porn With Plot, Kinky, Violence, Sexual Frustration, Daddy Issues, Daddy Kink, Face Slapping, Embarrassment

This person commented on one of the early chapters that they liked a loose concept of a paradox created in the time travel element of the fic. Fast forward to a few days later on the FINAL CHAPTER OF THE FIC the following comment:

I feel like the fking incest tag should be like the first one?! Like what the actual fuck. I had hope that [the younger character's] crush would be handled in a mature non problematic non incest and appropriate way and that incest wasn't the literal endgame. I was severely mistaken. Stories containing incest arent inherently bad its how they are handled what makes them bad. This is genuenly disgusting. Remeber kids, incest is never okay or morally acceptable irl and if romanticized also harmful in media. I never wished to remove my kudos from something so badly ever before

My friend in fandom what did you think was gonna happen when the SINGLE PAIRING TAGGED WAS AN INCESTUOUS PAIRING?? What did you think INCEST followed by LOTS OF SEXUAL RELATED KINKY TAGS was gonna net you? WHY DID YOU KEEP READING IT? rEmEmBeR kIdS!~ INCEST IS BAD!!!! I had never previously encountered someone commenting on my works in such a manner before and when I tell you I laughed, uproariously, because it was absolutely a Dead Dove: Do Not Eat moment in the most explicit of ways. I cannot for the life of me figure out how they even found this fic if they didn't go looking for it, the pairing itself is hardly what one would call a juggernaut in the fandom, especially for a piece of media spanning over 30 years with hundreds of characters who get shipped together. (Though incest is relatively prevalent in this fandom because all the "main" characters over the years are from the same bloodline.) Here was my response, for anyone who wants to see how seriously I took this (see: I did not take it seriously at all).

oh god you're sooooo right. incest is so bad irl that's why i only engage with fictional incest! and tag it!! so no one has to read it if they don't like it or have the media literacy to engage with it in a nuanced and thoughtful way. i hope you find a [the incestuous pairing] fic without incest that suits your tastes good luck but my advice would be, if you see something tagged with an incestuous pairing that's marked as Explicit, and then in the additional tags there's also the "incest" and "accidental incest" tags plus "porn with plot" or "daddy kink" or "underage sex" maybe you should actually assume that the fic is what it says it is. you'll upset your tummy a lot less. hope this helps! :)

Anyway. Remember kids! The tags are there to tell you what's in the fic! Not the author's clever bait and switch to get you to read something morally pure!

[sicknessbysalem]

Hii, its me, the habitual requester of all things Novak haha. First of all, your writing is MAGIC! When I asked for that fic of Novak and Elya, I never thought you'd be able to write it in a way where I felt like I was watching a movie play out!!!! (I'm soo sorry I didn't comment on it sooner, I have a new job and currently have no time for anything other than work, eat and sleep haha.) Speaking of, you may have ignited another set of asks from me... ZAK & NIKO omggggg. I. Am. Obessed. One of the cutest dynamics ever and hockey players are automatically cool to me. I love the idea that they are besties (at the moment teehee) and just know how to help one another. I am a sucker for all things flashback and first times etc, so could you maybe do a fic when one of them (probs Niko jus cuz I imagine it makes more sense) gets sick for the first time infront of the other. I'm imagining like bumbling around, kind of shock at the level of illness, not knowing what to do but just wanting to help sorta thing. Hopefully you get my drift!!! I will continue to check your page for any and all updates as I have done since I discovered you!! No new job will stop me from reading your stuff :)

hi sweet anon! i always love seeing your asks.

i am so happy you enjoyed the novak fic. it was so much fun to write and i wonder why i dont include elya more than i do even on the side. i had a lot of fun with that request!

also, congrats on the new job! don't ever worry about not commenting on my stuff. i enjoy feedback but at the end of the day i understand people are just busy.

i loved this request too. i decided to play around with a couple ideas and settled on this. niko has cyclic vomiting syndrome, has for several years at this point. he doesn't talk about it much, if at all, but when it hits him it hits him hard. i figured what better way to really dig into this request was to play with the idea of the first time zak is around for one of his more violent cvs episodes for the first time.

if you have any requests, questions, comments, etc., send them my way!

tw for chronic illness, emeto (lots of emeto), not telling someone about illness, more emeto, caretaker panic, more emeto

It had been one hell of a long day. Practice had run over by nearly two hours, the coaching staff squeezing in every last drill they could before letting the team off the ice.

Niko and Zak had spent the entire session chirping at each other—playful banter thrown back and forth as easily as they passed the puck. For Niko, it was just another day, the adrenaline of skating hard and hitting harder fueling him like always.

But now, with the rink lights dimmed and most of their teammates already back at the hotel, Zak and Niko were the last ones left in the locker room. Zak had just finished tying up his gear bag, glancing over at Niko as he sat on the bench, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

Zak didn’t think much of it at first—Niko was always the type to linger a little longer after practice, either lost in thought or catching his breath after going all out.

But something was different this time.

Niko was quiet, unusually so, and Zak could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands gripped the edge of the bench a little too tight. Sweat still clung to Niko’s skin, though practice had ended nearly half an hour ago. His face was flushed, but not the usual post-practice kind—this was a deeper, unhealthy flush that seemed to highlight the strain in his expression.

Zak’s brow furrowed as he straightened up, slinging his bag over his shoulder before taking a step closer. “You alright, man?” he asked, his voice casual but tinged with concern.

Niko glanced up, his usual grin a little weaker than usual, but still there. “Yeah, just... you know.” He waved a hand dismissively, though Zak noticed the slight tremor in his fingers. “Feeling a bit off. It’s nothing. Probably the longer practice, all good.”

Zak didn’t buy it for a second. He had known Niko long enough to know when something was up, and the way Niko was hunched over now, breathing a little heavier than normal, sent warning bells ringing in Zak’s head. “You sure? You look kinda—”

“—Hot? Sexy? The most handsome forward you've ever been blessed to lay eyes on?” Niko cut in, his grin widening, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah, I know. Thanks for noticing.”

Zak huffed a laugh, rolling his eyes, but the concern didn’t leave his face. “Nah, seriously. You don’t look so great. You coming down with something?”

Niko shook his head, though the motion seemed to make him wince. He pressed a hand against his stomach, a flicker of discomfort crossing his features before he quickly masked it with another grin. “Nah, just... stomach’s not happy with me. It happens.”

Zak’s frown deepened. “Like... food poisoning?”

Niko chuckled softly, though the sound was strained. “Not exactly. Just... you know. My stomach does this thing sometimes.” He waved his hand again, as if that was enough of an explanation, but Zak wasn’t satisfied.

Before Zak could press further, Niko’s breath hitched, his body tensing as a sudden wave of nausea hit him hard. He squeezed his eyes shut, swallowing thickly, his hand tightening on the edge of the bench as he leaned forward, trying to breathe through it.

Zak’s eyes widened, his concern spiking. “Hey, you sure you’re okay? You look like you’re about to—”

“I’m good,” Niko muttered, though his voice was tight, strained. “Just... gimme a sec.”

Zak stood frozen, not sure what to do. He’d never seen Niko like this—never seen him so pale, so shaky. The playful banter that usually came so easily between them suddenly felt hollow, like it couldn’t cover up the tension in the room.

Niko’s body jerked forward suddenly, his stomach lurching violently as he gagged hard, the sound wet and harsh in the quiet of the locker room. Zak instinctively took a step closer, his hands hovering near Niko, unsure whether to grab him or stand back.

“Jesus, Niko—” Zak started, but before he could finish, Niko gagged again, harder this time. His whole body trembled, his breath coming in short, sharp bursts as he doubled over. Zak could hear the struggle in his breathing, the way Niko was trying—and failing—to keep control.

“Trashcan,” Niko rasped, his voice barely audible as he gestured weakly toward the corner of the room.

Zak didn’t need to be told twice. He grabbed the small trashcan and shoved it in front of Niko just in time for another violent gag to tear through him. Niko retched hard, his body convulsing as his stomach rebelled, but nothing came up—just the awful, dry sound of his body trying to purge itself.

Zak stood there, wide-eyed and helpless, watching as Niko’s breath hitched again, another harsh gag wracking his frame. “Niko... what’s going on? Is this normal?” Zak’s voice was edged with panic now, the sight of his normally tough, unshakable teammate reduced to this making his heart race.

Niko managed a weak grin between retches, though the effort clearly cost him. “Yeah... pretty normal,” he muttered, his voice shaky. He gagged again, his body trembling as he clutched the trashcan, his breath coming in labored gasps. “Don’t... freak out. Just... CVS.”

Zak blinked, the term not registering right away. “CVS? What the hell does the drug store have to do with? Is it a side effect?”

Niko gagged again, the sound raw and painful, and this time, a thin stream of bile spilled into the trashcan. His face was flushed with both fever and exertion, and his hands shook as he gripped the edges of the bin. “Cyclic... vomiting... syndrome,” Niko managed to choke out between breaths, his voice hoarse. “Been dealing with it... for years.”

Zak stared at him, his mind racing. Vomiting syndrome? What the hell? He had no idea what that was, but the name alone was enough to make his stomach twist with unease. “Wait, you’ve had this for years? And you didn’t think to mention it?”

Niko chuckled weakly, though the sound quickly dissolved into another violent gag. His whole body shook as more bile spilled into the trashcan, his breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps. “Didn’t... seem important,” he muttered, though his voice was strained, his usual casual tone faltering as the nausea continued to tear through him. “It’s just... one of those things. No big deal.”

Zak’s eyes widened in disbelief. No big deal? Niko was practically falling apart in front of him, and he was acting like it was nothing? Zak ran a hand through his hair, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched Niko gag again, his body convulsing with the effort.

“Seriously, man,” Niko rasped, his voice hoarse from the retching. “Chill your dick Zakaria. I’m fine. Just... let it pass.”

Zak shook his head, his mind still reeling. “Fine? Nikolai you've been throwing up your guts for ten minutes, and you’re telling me you’re fine?”

Niko managed another weak grin, though it was quickly overtaken by another bout of retching. His body shuddered violently as more bile splattered into the trashcan, his breath coming in short, desperate gasps. “Yeah... used to it,” he muttered, his voice barely audible.

Zak felt a wave of frustration and concern wash over him. He didn’t know what to do—didn’t know how to help. Watching Niko like this, so casual about something that seemed so serious, made his head spin.

Niko gagged again, his body convulsing as his stomach tried to purge more, even though there was almost nothing left. The sound was awful, raw and wet, and Zak’s heart ached with every violent heave that shook Niko’s frame.

“You’re not okay,” Zak muttered under his breath, shaking his head. He crouched down beside Niko, placing a hand on his shoulder, the gesture meant to steady him, to ground him in some way. “You should’ve told me about this. What if—”

“I’m not dying,” Niko cut him off, though his voice was weak and breathless. He leaned forward, resting his head against the rim of the trashcan as his body trembled with exhaustion. “It’s... ugly, but it’ll pass.”

Zak frowned, his hand tightening slightly on Niko’s shoulder as another wave of nausea rolled through him, causing his body to jerk forward with another violent gag. Zak stayed beside him, his mind racing with questions, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask any of them. Not yet.

Zak couldn’t pull his eyes away from Niko, who was still hunched over the trashcan, his body shaking with the aftershocks of another violent gag. The room felt suffocating, the quiet of the empty locker room amplifying every sound—every ragged breath, every wet retch that came from Niko’s trembling frame.

“Jesus, Niko,” Zak muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, but the panic was clear. “This... this isn’t normal. You can’t tell me this is normal.”

Niko wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, breathing hard as he leaned his forehead against the cool rim of the trashcan. His face was pale, his eyes glassy from the effort of the nausea, but somehow, the grin still tugged at his lips. “For you? Nah. For me? Pretty much.”

Zak stared at him, his mouth falling open slightly. He couldn’t understand how Niko could joke right now, how he could act like this was no big deal. His stomach churned just watching Niko go through it—let alone trying to imagine what it must feel like.

“Look, man,” Niko rasped, his voice hoarse from the retching, “I know it looks bad, but... it’s fine. Really.” He coughed, his breath hitching as his stomach lurched again, but he pressed a hand to his chest, trying to force the nausea back down. “I’m used to this.”

Zak’s mind was racing, his heart pounding in his chest as he knelt beside Niko. He could feel the heat radiating off him—the fever that had clearly settled in, making Niko’s skin slick with sweat. The way Niko’s body kept convulsing, like it couldn’t stop trying to purge itself, made Zak’s own stomach twist with unease.

“Used to this?” Zak repeated, his voice tight with disbelief. “This isn’t something you should be used to.”

Niko chuckled, though it was more of a strained breath than a real laugh. He shifted slightly, resting his head on the edge of the trashcan as he shot Zak a tired grin. “It’s cute when you get all worried about me, you know that?”

Zak blinked, his eyes wide with a mix of confusion and frustration. “Cute? Niko, you’re literally throwing up everything you’ve ever eaten, and you think this is cute?”

Niko smirked, though his body tensed again as another wave of nausea hit him. He gagged hard, his breath catching in his throat as his stomach heaved, and a thin stream of bile splattered into the trashcan. His face twisted in discomfort, but as soon as he caught his breath, he gave Zak a weak wink. “I mean... you’ve been staring at me this whole time. I figured... you were checking me out.”

Zak let out an exasperated sigh, running a hand through his hair as he struggled to make sense of the situation. His mind was spinning, his chest tight with worry, but Niko was still... Niko. Still making jokes, still acting like none of this was a big deal.

“I’m staring at you because you’re puking your guts out and I don't want you to like... pass out and drown,” Zak snapped, though the panic in his voice softened the bite of his words. “This isn’t normal, Niko. You need to see a doctor or something.”

Niko shook his head, though the motion made his stomach flip again, and he had to pause, his hand gripping the trashcan tighter as he gagged once more. “Trust me, I’ve been to enough doctors. They all say the same thing—just ride it out.” He coughed again, his breath shaky as he tried to catch it. “CVS... comes in waves. Sometimes... it’s bad. Other times... not so much.”

Zak’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Not so much? This is bad, Niko! You’ve been throwing up for—what? Fifteen minutes straight now? How is that not a problem?”

Niko grimaced as another heave wracked his body, his shoulders shaking as more bile spilled into the trashcan. He breathed through the nausea, his forehead resting against the rim of the bin as he tried to steady himself. “For me... it’s normal,” he muttered, his voice quiet, strained. “This happens sometimes. My stomach just... doesn’t know when to quit.”

Zak watched him, his heart clenching in his chest as he tried to process what Niko was saying. “So what? You just... deal with this? Every time?”

Niko nodded weakly, his face pale and sweaty as he leaned back against the bench, his breath coming in shallow gasps. “Yeah... pretty much.” He closed his eyes for a moment, resting his head against the cool metal of the bench behind him. “It sucks, but... it passes. Eventually.”

Zak shook his head, his hands clenching into fists as he tried to make sense of it. He couldn’t imagine living like that—couldn’t imagine having to go through something like this over and over again, knowing it would happen and not being able to stop it.

“How long does it usually last?” Zak asked, his voice quiet, almost hesitant.

Niko cracked one eye open, glancing at Zak with a faint smirk. “Depends. Sometimes a couple of hours. Sometimes... longer.” He grimaced again, his hand pressing against his stomach as another wave of nausea rippled through him. “But... you know... it’s kinda cute how worried you are. Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.”

Zak glared at him, though there was no real anger behind it. “Yeah, well, it’s hard not to worry when you’re throwing up like this, man.”

Niko chuckled softly, though the sound quickly dissolved into another gag. His body jerked forward again, his breath hitching as more bile splattered into the trashcan, his whole frame trembling from the effort. “Don’t worry... too much,” Niko muttered, his voice weak but still teasing. “I’m not dying.”

Zak let out a long breath, his heart pounding as he watched Niko ride out another wave of nausea. He didn’t know how to respond—didn’t know how to deal with the fact that Niko seemed so casual about something that looked so awful. But if this was normal for him, what could Zak do? He didn’t want to freak out and make it worse, but the helplessness gnawed at him, twisting in his gut.

Niko leaned back again, resting his head on the edge of the bench as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His breath came in slow, shallow gasps, his chest heaving as he tried to steady himself.

“See? Told you,” Niko muttered, his voice raspy. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

Zak frowned, his eyes narrowing as he studied Niko’s pale face. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”

Niko smirked weakly, his eyes half-lidded as he glanced up at Zak. “Might just be... trying to get you to carry me back to the apartment.” He gave a weak wink, though the effort seemed to cost him, his body slumping slightly as the nausea flared again.

Zak let out a frustrated sigh, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.”

“Yeah... but you love me for it,” Niko quipped, though his grin quickly faltered as his stomach lurched again. He doubled over, gagging hard into the trashcan, his breath coming in short, desperate bursts as more bile spilled into the bin.

Zak’s heart twisted in his chest, watching Niko go through it. He couldn’t understand how Niko could be so casual, so... normal about this. “I still think we should get you checked out,” Zak muttered, his voice softer now, the worry clear in his eyes.

Niko shook his head weakly, leaning back once the wave had passed. “Nah. Just... need to wait it out.” He glanced at Zak, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “But hey... if it makes you feel better, you can stay with me ‘til it’s over.”

Zak stared at him for a long moment, his chest tight with a mix of frustration and concern. Niko was still being Niko—still teasing, still trying to downplay everything—but Zak wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take.

“Yeah,” Zak said softly, his hand resting gently on Niko’s shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere.”

-

By the time they made it back to their shared apartment, Zak’s nerves were frayed. The walk from the locker room to the car had felt like an eternity, every step drawn out by Niko pausing to double over with another bout of nausea, his body shuddering with each attempt to hold it together.

Twice during the car ride, Niko had been forced to ask Zak to pull over, his stomach rebelling with another wave of retching. Each time, Niko had laughed it off afterward, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and muttering something about it “not being the worst episode” he’d had.

But Zak wasn’t laughing.

As they stepped into the apartment, Niko immediately shrugged off his jacket and tossed his keys on the counter with his usual nonchalance. Zak, on the other hand, was still keyed up, his hands twitching slightly with the urge to do something—to help, to fix this—but he had no idea how. He watched Niko with a mixture of disbelief and frustration, wondering how the hell he could still act so casual when his body was clearly falling apart.

“You want to lie down?” Zak asked, his voice tight with concern as he hovered near the doorway, watching Niko carefully. His eyes followed every movement, half-expecting Niko to keel over at any moment. Or vomit again. Or both.

Niko waved him off, though his movements were slower now, more deliberate as he leaned against the counter, his breathing shallow. His face was still pale, his skin slick with sweat, but he flashed Zak a tired grin, trying to downplay the situation like he always did.

“Nah, I’m good,” Niko muttered, though his voice was hoarse, strained from the hours of retching. “Just need to ride it out a little longer. It’ll pass.”

Zak let out a frustrated breath, running a hand through his hair as he stared at Niko. He didn’t know how much more of this casual attitude he could take. “Niko, you’ve been throwing up all afternoon. You’ve barely kept anything down, and you’re still—” He stopped himself, his voice catching in his throat as he gestured helplessly to Niko’s exhausted frame. “I don’t get how you can be so calm about this.”

Niko chuckled softly, though the sound quickly turned into a cough, his body trembling with the effort. “Told you, man. This isn’t my first rodeo.” He shrugged, trying to brush it off as he grabbed a glass from the counter and filled it with water. “I’ve been through worse episodes. This one’s just a pain in the ass, but it’ll pass.”

Zak stared at him, his jaw tightening. “How can you say that?” His voice rose slightly, frustration bubbling to the surface as he took a step closer, his eyes flashing with worry. “You’ve been sick for hours, Niko! How is this ‘no big deal’ to you?”

Niko raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching up into a faint grin. “Because I’ve been through this a hundred times before, Zak. It sucks, but it’s nothing new.” He took a slow sip of water, grimacing slightly as his stomach twisted again, but he forced himself to take another sip, his eyes never leaving Zak’s. “You’re making a bigger deal out of it than it needs to be.”

Zak threw his hands up, his frustration evident in every gesture. “Of course I’m making a big deal out of it! Watching someone throw up over and over again isn’t exactly something I’m used to.”

Niko smirked, leaning back against the counter as he swirled the water in his glass. “Well, you better get used to it. This is just how my body works sometimes. No point freaking out about it.”

Zak’s eyes narrowed as he stared at Niko, the casualness of his tone grating against the knot of worry that had been building in his chest all night. “I can’t just sit here and act like it’s normal for you to be this sick, Niko. It’s not normal!”

Niko shrugged again, though the motion was more sluggish this time. “Normal is relative, right?” He flashed Zak a tired grin, his eyes half-lidded with exhaustion. “For me, this is just another Wednesday.”

Zak’s chest tightened, a frustrated groan escaping him as he paced toward the living room, running a hand through his hair again. He couldn’t understand how Niko could be so relaxed about this—how he could stand there, barely holding it together, and still crack jokes like this was just some minor inconvenience.

Niko watched him for a moment, the teasing glint still in his eyes despite the exhaustion that weighed on him. “You’re cute when you get all worked up,” he said, his voice soft but playful. “Kind of like a little... worried mom or something.”

Zak stopped dead in his tracks, his head snapping toward Niko with a glare that could’ve melted glass. “I’m not your mom, Niko! I’m your teammate—your...” He hesitated for a split second, the words catching in his throat. “I’m your friend. And watching you go through this is killing me.”

Niko’s expression softened for a moment, the playful smirk fading slightly as he set the glass of water down on the counter. “Hey,” he said, his voice quieter now, more serious. “I get it. I do. But you don’t have to worry so much. I know what my body can handle. I’ve been dealing with this for years. I have medicine for it—"

"Good, where is it?" Zak said, "Take it then if—"

"Episode's already started, it's preventative, not to make it stop when it's already gone this far," Niko said, "Seriously, Zak, please just take a deep breath and relax. This is literally just another Wednesday"

Zak let out a shaky breath, his shoulders slumping as he looked at Niko, the frustration giving way to helplessness. “But... what if this time it’s worse than before? What if—”

Niko cut him off with a soft chuckle, shaking his head as he pushed away from the counter and took a step toward Zak. “Zak, come on. I know my limits. I’ll be fine. I just need to let it run its course.” He offered Zak a small, reassuring smile, though the pallor of his skin and the sweat clinging to his brow told a different story.

Zak wasn’t convinced. He could see Niko was still struggling, could see the way his body trembled slightly as he stood there, trying to act like everything was okay. “You look like you’re about to keel over,” Zak muttered, his voice soft but filled with worry.

Niko shrugged, giving Zak a weak smile. “I’m tougher than I look.”

Zak rolled his eyes, though the worry hadn’t left his face. “Yeah, well, tough or not, you’re still human. You can’t just pretend like this doesn’t suck.”

"Oh, no, I never said it didn't suck," Niko said, "I said it was normal."

Niko chuckled again, though the sound was strained, and Zak could see the way Niko’s body tensed, his hand twitching slightly as he pressed it against his stomach. He was trying to hide it, but Zak wasn’t blind—he could see Niko was still battling the nausea, could see the discomfort etched into every line of his face.

“Come on,” Zak said softly, stepping closer and resting a hand on Niko’s arm. “Let’s just get you to bed. You don’t need to be standing around trying to prove you’re fine.”

Niko hesitated for a moment, his eyes flicking toward the bedroom before he sighed, the exhaustion finally catching up with him. “Yeah... maybe that’s not a bad idea,” he muttered, his voice quieter now, the bravado fading as his body betrayed him once again. He leaned slightly into Zak’s touch, the weight of the afternoon finally starting to take its toll.

Zak guided him toward his bedroom, his hand still resting on Niko’s arm as they moved slowly through the apartment. He could feel the tension in Niko’s body, could feel the way his muscles tensed with every step, but Niko didn’t say anything—just followed Zak’s lead, his usual playful banter replaced by a weary silence.

When they reached the bedroom, Zak helped Niko sit down on the edge of the bed, his hands gentle but firm as he guided him onto the mattress. Niko let out a soft sigh, his body sinking into the bed as he leaned back against the pillows, his eyes closing for a moment as he tried to steady his breathing.

Zak stood there for a moment, watching him carefully, the worry still gnawing at him. “You need anything? Water? Another trashcan?”

Niko cracked one eye open, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “I think I’m good. But... you know, if you wanted to stay here with me, I wouldn’t complain.”

Zak huffed a small laugh, though the concern still lingered in his eyes. “Yeah, because you’re totally fine, right?”

Niko shrugged, his eyes closing again as he let out a soft, tired chuckle. “What can I say? I’m irresistible, even when I’m a mess. Besides, you still look like you'll go into cardiac arrest if you let me out of your sight.”

Zak rolled his eyes, but a small smile crept across his face as he pulled up a chair beside the bed. He wasn’t going to leave Niko’s side, not until he was sure this episode had passed.

For now, though, he’d have to deal with the fact that Niko wasn’t going to stop being Niko—even when he was sick as hell. No matter how fucking annoying he was.

[pebblysand]

Hey there. Just wanted to say thank you for sharing Castles with us. I was 16 when I stumbled upon this masterpiece. I turned 18 a couple of months ago. I came of age with this fic. Whenever things got too much, Castles was what I'd find an escape in. It has taught me so much, taught me how the world's never just black & white and how life can be messy yet worth living. Castles has been a safe place, really. I cried, laughed, mourned and loved along with the characters. Your writing has made me feel so much so deeply, and I'd feel those heartaches all over again in a heartbeat. The female characters especially are so strong, so nuanced, their beauty lies in their imperfections which you've portrayed with so much care . As we reach the end of this road, I hope you are proud of yourself. I hope you know that this fic of yours has left a lasting impact on me.

Oh and I've been meaning to ask, how are you feeling now that it's all out?

thank you so much. that means more to me than you can imagine. ❤️

as to your question... how am i? pfew. i don't know. as i write this, i am now in france, enjoying the riviera's setting sun on my mum's terrace, with my thirteen-year-old four-legged baby sleeping underneath the table. there are palm trees and bougainvilleas. she's just woken up to bark at the airbnb neighbours next door.

how am i? exhausted. like, bone-deep. i don't know how to explain. the exhaustion of having published 82,000 words in two months. of having written 403,000 words in four years. of having made a thing. i made a thing. i could sleep for ten years, i feel, but i'm also wired. from the excitement and the adrenaline. i woke up every hour last night. i woke up at four o'clock this morning and couldn't get back to sleep. i now have two weeks of holidays and beach days to hopefully let my brain recuperate.

i am... terribly unfit lol. i'm the heaviest i've ever been, but it's not really about that, it's about the fact that i've been eating absolute shite for the past four/five months (with the above-mentioned exhaustion, i couldn't be bothered to cook), and honestly don't feel i could walk 10,000 steps without being out of breath. let me tell you that spending your days working in front of a laptop for your big girl job and all your evenings and weekends writing makes your life very sedentary. but that is easily fixable. my mum's building has a pool, so we'll be going every day and doing laps and going for walks and exploring the world again and recharging, and hopefully we'll feel better in a few weeks.

i am also... in absolute disbelief. i think it will take a while to truly sink in. i am incredibly proud of myself, proud of this story. proud of having told it. proud of not giving up on it. i came so close, this time last year. but i hung on. i owed it to myself. and, frankly, i owed it to lily, to tell her story. how lovely that i can finally say that without spoiling. she deserved someone else to hear.

i am... immensely honoured. beyond belief. i think for a long time, i blocked out and minimised the kind comments and the things people would say about how much this story meant to them, not out of rudeness but more to preserve myself from the pressure. it can be difficult - petrifying - to write a story that means a lot to people. but now, i have seventy-two comments (and counting) in my inbox and i am slowly realising that maybe, people weren't just being nice when they said these things. maybe it was true. and that means more to me than words could ever express.

i am... grieving. a little bit. i think, reading all of your messages and comments, a lot of you seem to feel that too. a bittersweetness of a four-year adventure ending. i think this emotion is already a bit on its way out for me, because i've been grieving castles for a while now, and have slowly come to terms with it ending. but, still. i would be remiss if i did not mention that the immense sense of pride and satisfaction and fulfilment that i feel ending this project, also didn't come with a bit of grief.

and, finally, i am very much looking forward to the future. i am excited for a lot of travel plans i have set up in the autumn. i am excited for my birthday in six days. i am excited for what the future will bring in terms of the stories i will inevitably tell again. fanfic or original.

and, i am immensely grateful to all of you. so thank you ❤️

[incorrectcoldflashblog]

Answer the Questions and Tag 5 Fanfic Authors

Thank you so much to @kitkatt0430 for tagging me <3

1. How did you get into writing fanfiction?

Well, I got back into Coldflash in a big way a couple years ago, and kind of got frustrated not really seeing anything new in the tag, lol. Desperation is usually my biggest motivator to do anything. If I had unlimited new Coldflash fics coming out, I probably would never have written my own tbh.

2. How many fandoms have you written in?

Just the one. I used to do translations for a different fandom, though, so maybe two depending on if translating counts.

3. How many years have you been writing fanfiction?

My own? Only a year and a half. Translating, maybe roughly ten years.

4. Do you read or write more fanfiction?

I probably write more now, but you wouldn’t know it because I’m such a slow writer!

5. What is one way you’ve improved as a writer?

Oh, I feel like my English has definitely gotten better since I started writing regularly. I always felt obligated to put a little disclaimer at the bottom, like please be nice to me, this isn’t my first language, lol. I feel a little bit more confident about it now (although I still obsessively google every sentence and word).

6. What’s the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

I mean, thanks to Chapter 4 of What Happens in Vegas I know now way more than I ever needed to know about tornado sirens, considering we don’t have them in my country, lol. I also ended up doing extensive (and totally pointless) research about the ancient Sumerian city-state of Ur (located in the South of what is now modern-day Iraq), which is where Len/Cold was supposed to be from in my AU where he was a genie. For those who are unaware, Ur fell in about 2000 BC and had a very famous poem written about it. Here is the cheery opening of 11 stanzas of misery:

For the gods have abandoned us

like migrating birds they have gone

Ur is destroyed, bitter is its lament

The country's blood now fills its holes like hot bronze in a mould

Bodies dissolve like fat in the sun. Our temple is destroyed

Smoke lies on our city like a shroud.

blood flows as the river does

the lamenting of men and women

sadness abounds

Ur is no more

7. What’s your favorite type of comment to receive on your work?

I always appreciate when people point out the parts they liked. But honestly I’m happy for people to comment at all, especially on older fics :)

8. What’s the most fringe trope/topic you write about?

I don’t know that anything I’ve written can be considered fringe, lol. I do have a Lisa/Iris WIP, which I assume would be more of a rarepair, but I only have one scene written for it so who knows if I’ll ever finish it. I guess the Genie AU was kind of strange.

9. What is the hardest type of story for you to write?

Longfics ;-; God, I’ve gained so much respect for people who can do that consistently for 60+ chapters, or over multiple fics in a series. My longfic isn’t even that long, comparatively, and I still feel like I will never get it done.

10. What is the easiest type?

One-shots, my beloved.

11. Where do you do your writing? What platform? When?

On my laptop. I just use Word and I prefer to write in the morning, which isn’t super ideal because it only leaves me the weekend to really get into it.

12. What is something you’ve been too nervous/intimidated to write, but would love to write one day?

I’m too nervous to start more longfics at the moment because I feel like two is my absolute limit but I’d love to be able to write both the TATBILB-inspired fic I had in mind and the Future Fic that I sometimes play around with. I’d have to finish at least one of my longer projects first, or maybe try to get the whole thing written before posting it but I’m usually too impatient to do that!

13. What made you choose your username?

My username is captainicecube and I picked it because it’s roughly how Captain Cold was translated in the French dub. They translated it as Captain Glaçons (Captain Icecubes), which always makes me laugh whenever I think about it because it’s so stupid XD

Tagging @crestfallercanyon @joanthangroff @tiger-in-the-flightdeck @softboydepot and @moriavis

[uhuraisgay]

fic writer meme

ty lore @megafaunatic for tagging meee :3c

How many works do you have on Ao3?

fifty three as of today. tomorrow? who knows.... (probably still fifty three)

2. What's your total Ao3 word count?

518,435 words .... wrow.....

3. What fandoms do you write for?

historically its been all over the place but theres so much stuff rotting and dying in my gdrive that has never been posted so i feel like i have a broader actual ouvre than is represented on ao3. which is mdzs heavy at least in the past couple years

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

5. beyond all limit (wangxian i wrote for lore right after i first read the book) 4. if the story's over (moshang post-divorce get-together fic) 3. someone as good for me as you (written in 2016 for holster and ransom when i was reading check, please. LMAO) 2. at least as deep as the pacific ocean (written in 2015 in the clearest example of 'person distraught by the tragic ending of a tragedy misses the fucking point and writes a coffee shop au of achilles and patroclus after she read tsoa' ever, even bigger LMAO) 1. your name safe in their mouth (lsz gets his dad back, and other emotional adventures)

5. Do you respond to comments?

i used to try to reply to every comment i got but i stopped doing that around the same time i went to college and got more depressed. but i love reading comments and i sometimes reply if someone says something that moves me or like. asks me a question about the fic that i want to elaborate on? because i love to yap

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

i'm not really good at writing straight angst i feel like it's normally like. angst with catharsis. but i wrote some explorations on grief in the past couple years that i feel like have the angst factor (what i have of you about nhs after nmj dies, and then when your beard fell out about my sweetie pie kageyama tobio in middle school after his grandpa dies)

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

i have a lot of silly fluffy fics... idk i try to toe the line mostly of like. the joys and sadnesses of human experience but sometimes you just gotta fluff it up. i'll set the table, you can make the fire, which is book verse aziraphale/crowley living in a cottage and being in love, comes to mind....i love that one

8. Do you get hate on fics?

i don't think i've ever really gotten hate on a fic? i have been extremely lucky in that regard. especially since my whole ouvre from like 2014 onward is on that damn site and much of it is very cringeworthy.

9. Do you write smut?

not well!

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you have written?

i often will do like kind of a quasi-crossover kind of thing rather than a True Crossover wherein i take characters i like from one medium and plop them into the roles and places of characters i like from another medium. i did a dragon age wangxian fic where lwj was the inquisitor from da:i called we held together the fragile sky that kind of exemplifies this dynamic

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that i know of or that anyone has ever notified me of, but i also don't look that hard. if this has ever happened, it would hurt my feelings, so please don't do it ? lol

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

yes!!!! and i was honored

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

not as such but i have one not-intended-for-posting fic which is basically just a transcription of jokes i have with my roommate about haikyuu characters LOL which i think counts as co-writing. she's my co-writer in spirit even if i'm the one at the keyboard

14. What's your all time favorite ship?

my answer to this changes with every new fixation i have. like right now it's kagehina. if you asked me four years ago i would have said wangxian. You Know?

15. What is a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

SO MANY...i think probably my fullmetal alchemist nie brothers au....i try not to post things until they are done and fully edited now, but that one was a whim-based fic that i lost all strength for as soon as i started thinking too hard about kagehina. i also had a fem nielan sci fi au that was vaguely based off beauty and the beast but nmj was like stuck in a ship and she thought she was its computer and that she was a program but she was actually a person....which i never posted any of except snippets on twitter and i think it was just too sprawling for my current skill level...i just was never able to wrangle it. but i am fond of it nonetheless

16. What are your writing strengths?

based on what other people have told me i would say the way i write sibling / family relationships, and while my prose is not always pretty i do think it can be pretty at times ...

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

i feel like it's often too self-indulgent even if that's what fic is for lol, and i tend to look back on fics and think, i wrote that because i had feelings about it and wanted to say it, but i'm not necessarily sure that This Character would say/do that at this point in time....idk like i fear that when i don't think about it hard enough my characterization can be weak or guided by what eye personally would do vs. what The Character would do. but some of that is because the majority of my fics on ao3 are from years and years ago and i (hopefully) have continued to improve

18. Thoughts of writing dialogue in another language in fics?

i'm picky about it but when it's done well i think it's really fun and builds so much of the world/character. i think when it's bad it's really bad. when i go about it i try to think about like, a) do i know this language myself/do i know someone who does. if the answer is no i try to keep it really minimal. b) how do people who know multiple languages approach speaking those multiple languages naturally in real life. like (IN MY EXPERIENCE) ppl don't tend to switch languages for random words mid-sentence unless those words are like, mom, dad, uncle, aunt, ect...maybe swearing if they're less familiar with one of the languages and don't know slang/swearing in it...but again when it's done well it's really good and i'm not an expert. i just can kinda tell when it feels off when i read it, if that makes sense...(it's the same way i feel about grammar lol. sometimes i can just tell it's a little Off)

19. First fandom you wrote for?

probably either fma or soul eater or the sister's grimm book series when i was in middle school. or maybe doctor who? idk i had a lot of fanfic notebooks that i have since destroyed and then regretted destroying

20. Favorite fic you have written?

at the present moment it's in these coming years my kagehina love letter but again i feel like it changes constantly. like the more i write the better i get and the more the newest/most polished thing i've written sort of Becomes my favorite just by default of my satisfaction level with it. sorry if that's a bad answer

tagging @yuebings @dcyiyou @burins @cairoscene @cafecliche @perilously sorry if you've been tagged already also if you want to do this and i didn't tag you just say i did. I'll shut up now

[nube55]

Hey lovely Nube 💕

Finally, finally, I have the opportunity to jump into your ask box & get to know you better!!! We're both huge fans of fanfiction so this ask game was made for us! As usual, I can't stick to one question only so, if you're ok with that, may I ask you: A8 | B5 | C2 | D8?

Looking forward to reading your reply 👀

Lots of love 💕

<><><><><><>

PS: your comment/reblog of Lucy's post about this stinky comment on her fic was perfect 👏

Hello Val!! 🎊 awwww thanks for stopping by!!! Hahaha don't worry, we'll get to all of them!

(Adding a read more cause this got LONG sorry I'm physically incapable of summarising)

What was your first fandom? Are you still in that fandom now?

My first fandom was Harry Potter. I am not in that fandom still and do not wish to engage in it anymore for a number of reasons, but it was my gateway to reading from an early age and it was an excuse to bond with someone I cherished a lot and who sadly isn't here anymore. I met some awesome friends through it too, friends that put up with me to this day! Hahaha

Which story have you read more than any other? How many times?

You know... come to think of it, I haven't read an entire fic all over! 🤔 (regarding multichapter fics). I do want to highlight the ones I've been going back for certain chapters/scenes that I love! This list shows a variety of writing styles that leave me on the ground swooning (Warning!! no concrete spoilers buuuut references to scenes):

Holy Ground by @lucysarah-c (ongoing): Lucy can pretty much give a masterclass on poetic writing and I'm not exaggerating. I come back to it for my faves: chapter 9 (aka Levi's quiet morning gets interrupted in the funniest of ways - for us readers, not for him lmao), chapter 11 (aka not knowing how to play Scrabble leads to interesting outcomes), chapter 15 (one OF THE BEST LEVI POV I'VE LAID MY EYES ON), and chapter 17 (when you can feel yourself in the scene, it's just that amazing)

North Star by @sixpennydame (ongoing): such SUCH a special story. I love coming back to chapters 6 & 7, the whole Mount Aspe arc is exquisitely written.

Spectrum by @19941117 (finished): I have nothing but praise for this story and the incredible talent of its author. It focuses on an AoT character I've never seen explored before, and has the most breathtaking of endings.

Silver Underground by @amywritesthings (ongoing): this girrrrl leaves Easter eggs everywhere so I had to go back an re-read many parts to come up with theories lmao. I really enjoy the first chapter, the pace in it, the dialogue, the tension. And the whoooole bit on the Underground arc makes my heart become pudding.

Please tell me I didn't f*** up any link hahaha.

What word or expression always makes you cringe when you read it?

Usually I cringe when I see a sustained behaviour that feels excesively out of character to me (in those cases I choose to opt out). I also feel cringe-y in NSFW scenes when intimate parts are refered to overly poetically for my taste. I'd rather have them refered to in a filthy way tbh 😂

Which fandoms do you read fic for?

Currently I'm 99% dedicated to AoT (had a YoI phase a couple years ago!). Buuuut I wouldn't mind reading some Vinland Saga stories 😏 (@atruewarrior I'm looking at you)

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Well I think that's it!! Thanks for the questions Val, have a wonderful week! 🌻🌻

Ask a reader meme

[theroundbartable]

Can I ask your top 10 fav fics ever (from any fandom, if you don't mind)?

Also, just curious, is there a story behind your name "theroundbartable "?

Haha^^

10 fics will be hard for me to do, since I'm very bad with names and I don't really.... Save any. I read, like, comment and move on.

Let's start with my name first. That's easier. Theroundbartable was a joke I made a couple years ago and I had it as the headline of my blog for a while when I was still Changelink23.

I'm not sure where it came from anymore... But I think it was kind of the basis for "connecting the dots". Which is a fanfiction I wrote that is about Gwaine and the knights making up stories about Merthur. It was their game to guess what Merlin was up to and gossip about Arthur's pining. And collectively, they'd make up the entire series on accident.

My idea then was that the knights gather in a bar, got really drunk and basically play DnD with the BBC Merlin storyline. So, the knights of the round table, but at a bar. And maybe that table was round. And maybe it was their regular seat and they called it the round bar table.

After Changelink outdid its purpose and I got really deep into the Merlin concepts, I decided my name should fit the theme. And what else am I doing here with you guys, other than exchange ideas about Merlin while half sounding on drugs? It's my idea of being part of this fandom, I think. All of us sitting at the round bar table and having fun with the series together.

Now, fanfics:

1. Dirty laundry by Gybslythe (Voltron)

It's just... It has sentimental value for me. The author put down the story because they were bullied, sadly. I just felt at home in that fanfiction because the places seemed so familiar to me and I caught the feeling. I could compare it with me visitung my godmother as a child and the described places were just the best moments of my entire childhood. Also the writing style is SOOO good! I mimicked it for a mock exam and that was my best English Exam during my A-levels.

2. Sadly I don't know the actual name of this one :/

Funnily enough, it was a Gravity falls fanfiction... And a Bill cipher x reader one at that, which is WILD that I ever read it. The Reader thing really repulses me. Lol. The thing is, it was very non intimate and the world building blew my mind. It started off with Bill realizing his existence and step by step, he'd give his knowledge to the one human that interested him and therefore lost his power. The reader, however, grew with the knowledge and in the end, wakes up as the entity Bill had been. Just, suddenly knowing she existed, no memories of ever being human. It was so well done and pulled at my philosophical brain, I built "Wired" off of it.

3. Not a story but a series...

Anything by CaffeinatedFlumadiddle. This is the series that made my Merlin writings what they are. I read these and they brought me SOOO much joy! I used to write really depressive stuff. Still do. But after reading these, I wanted to bring that joy, too. I really dug into my humor after that and it really changed how I see stories and even myself and became the foundation of what I focus on in dialogues.

4. From the grave to the cradle by larcluce

I admit it, I'm a bit biased for this one because I'm so proud of larluce for posting their first story after wanting ME to write it. As if I could have done it justice. It's so good for a first work and yeah... I'm very proud of them.

5. My soul has your claim, my soul is in flames

(Voltron) i'm currently reading that due to my online friend's suggestion and it's just... Maybe it's because I'm currently obsessed with it but it really is just that good. It's everything I want from a voltron fanfic :) obliviousness, pining, misunderstandings, and reassurance and Lance's death reveal. Like... Yeah. I'm a sucker for this story.

...

There are probably a lot more on my list but I'm REALLY bad at remembering stuff XD I remember when I stumble on them. I just listed the ones that are at the top of my head. Sorry it's not a full ten :/ I actually write more than I read too. When I start reading, my mind gets ideas and then I have to write them down and I somehow rarely finish fics over 100k words.

BuT wRiTinG tHEm iS fInE.

By the way, I haven't read "like the cycle of the year" yet. It's been on my list for a while but I haven't gotten around to it. I know it's a fandom favorite. But maybe that's what's putting me off. It'll probably make me feel inadequate after reading it and comparing it to my stuff and then I'll feel bad about my writing. Which would by both oddly motivating and off putting, lol.

As a little bonus, I'll just say what I'm currently working on/planning to work on for now.

1. second chances (Drarry)

I've been writing on that one for over a year. Which is the longest I ever spend on a fic and also the longest fic I've ever worked on in total and also the one I most edited. I'm writing it for my girlfriend. I feel like I'm getting closer to the end and I will post it once it's finished.

Jkr sucks, by the way. She'd probably hate the story which satisfies me greatly.

It's a time travel au, obviously, in which Drarry was a muggle therapist after the war. The magical world doesn't respond well to the idea of therapy but that's not Draco's concern even though it should be. He just wants to atone for his sins. Being thrown back in time gives him that chance... But it also awakens deep traumatic issues while he struggles to help the good side and betray his parents and friends in the meantime. It's very analytical of his character and he suffers a lot and it's a lot of fun to do.

2. Karak'nirir- the goddess of creation (Voltron)

A Lance centric Voltron fanfic in which he is gifted the power of a goddess. I'm trying to get back into world building and well... I just really love Lance XD

3. The clockroom (BBC Merlin)

... It's on hiatus... Again. It's so hard to find the time to work on it. But I will... At some point. Probably. I hate unfinished business.

4. ... I'll probably focus on the Merthur marriage concept next. In which Arthur tries to raise Merlin's status and has Merlin learn magic in order to defeat Emrys. Cause then Merlin would be druid king and they can get married XD i want to apply some stuff I'm currently learning through "my soul has your claim" and maybe that will change how I write in the long run, too.

5. .... I should be working on a book that's publishable. Maybe feedback from professional book sellers will help me improve my work also.

By the way... Having 4 wips kills my brain. I hate it. One fic at a time. That's how I work best. It's too much for me. I'm dying. I have no ideas how other people do it.

Anyway.

Thank you for the question, anon ^^ I hope I answered it well enough XD