#and I did read couple of good canon divergence or coping with canon fics for me to be okay with this like... they're probebly in the bar no | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

parvuls · 4 years ago

Text

fic: at certain times

word count: 12k

tags: year 2 canon-divergence, getting together, first kiss

summary: The Swallow's Samwell Awards issue of '15 crowns Jack and Bitty as Samwell's cutest couple. It is somewhat unfortunate, then, that they're not actually a couple at all.

read on ao3

The kitchen smells like something burnt, a smoky tang that clings to the walls and floors, stings inside Bitty’s nose. April should smell like hot cross buns and zucchini bread, he thinks wistfully, but it turns out that some Aprils poor ovens are pushed to their last legs prematurely, leaving his kitchen smelling like Ransom forgot his frozen pizza in the microwave again.

Dex has been tending to Betsy on her deathbed all month, spending most of his free hours at the Haus. Bitty called him again after class, while he was standing in Superberry with Jack, and promised to pay for his services with froyo. Said froyo -- which Jack insisted on paying for, bless him -- is still on the table, untouched, yogurt melting over the rim of the paper cup and dripping onto the wood. Dex has been kneeling in the same strip of sunlight on the floor since he arrived with his toolbox. Bitty isn’t sure what exactly he’s been doing, but he seems to be too busy waving a screwdriver in the air and ranting to remember his abandoned bribe.

“So we finally got over the fucking Samwell Republican sticker thing,” Dex says, his face red and his brow furrowed. He’s been disgruntled all day because of an email he’d received, which he claims Nursey will never let him live down. "And Bitty, I know this is Massachusetts, okay? But I haven’t even actually voted yet! Fucking Swallow. How can I be Best Republican?"

Bitty hunches over in his chair, palms clasped together on his knees like a prayer. He’s anxiously following the motions of Dex’s screwdriver with his eyes while listening with only half an ear, deeply confused by the conversation subject. “The Swallow does pieces on politics? I can’t even imagine what an article like that’d look like, honestly.”

Dex grumbles quietly, shoving a hand under his backwards snapback to scratch at his hair. “No, it’s like -- their Samwell Awards thing? I don’t know, I just got an email about it this morning. I guess it’s like that 50 Most Beautiful shit they do.”

Bitty’s never heard of it, but then again, Bitty carefully sidesteps most articles of The Swallow whenever he comes across them. Those guys write about their team an uncomfortable amount for a university with almost ten thousand students. As long as Holster or Ransom aren’t reading it aloud at team breakfast, Bitty’s not eager to find out what The Swallow has to say.

He asks, though, because Dex seems to be upset about this and his frogs need to be handled with care. “Like in high school yearbooks?” Heather Barron was his class’ Best Laugh back home, and she made everyone who signed her yearbook tell her a joke so she could laugh for them.

“I guess,” Dex says distractedly. He bends down low to reach something close to the floor. “This girl from my Intro to CompSci class got the same email about it -- she won Best Dressed. I mean, who even judges these things? That’s a matter of taste.”

Dex wipes a dusty hand across his forehead and Bitty momentarily forgets to care about The Swallow in favor of looking on worriedly. Betsy is unplugged from the wall with her back side facing the room, surrounded by loose cables and scattered bolts. She looks old and frail. Bitty kind of feels like he’s watching an open-heart surgery occurring right in front of him.

“Can you save her?” Bitty presses a hand over his heart, dreading the reply. Dex wrinkles his forehead even further and doesn’t meet Bitty’s eyes.

It is then that their ordinary afternoon is interrupted by three emphatic knocks on the front door of the Haus.

"Did someone just knock on our door?" Shitty yells from somewhere down the hall. Bitty assumes he’s still curled up on the couch of sins in a t-shirt and flimsy underwear, mourning his grandparents’ affirmative RSVP response to graduation.

His tone sounds downright shocked at the sound, but that’s probably reasonable. Bitty’s been living in the Haus for over nine months now and he’s never once heard anyone knock on that door. It’s always unlocked, anyway; it’s actually nothing short of a miracle that they’ve never been burglarized. Not that there’d be anything to steal, of course, other than Holster’s collector's edition Simpsons DVD box set, or maybe one of Jack’s used jerseys to be sold to the highest bidder on ebay.

"Well, whaddaya know,” Ransom appears in the hallway outside the kitchen doorframe, likely summoned downstairs by the abnormal noise. His eyebrows are high on his forehead as he stares down the hall at the door. “It didn't collapse. I told you it’s sturdier than it looks."

Neither of the boys makes a move to actually open the door. There’s a second set of knocks, this one slightly louder than the first, and Bitty huffs as he gets off his chair. He casts one last hopeful look over his shoulder. Maybe, he wishes silently, Betsy has performance issues and would be magically fixed once she’s not under his constant scrutiny. Or maybe Dex does, and would magically fix her. “Y’all, when someone knocks on a door, they generally expect you to open it for them.”

He shoulder-checks Ransom on the way to yanking the door open, and is presented with some guy Bitty’s never seen before standing on their front steps. He’s wearing an atrociously ugly plaid vest and an awfully wide smile, which only grows wider when he sees that it’s Bitty who’s opening the door.

“Eric Bittle!”

“Yes?” Bitty agrees, eyebrows drawing together. He’s usually pretty good with faces, but he doesn’t think he’s seen this guy in any of his classes. Maybe a hockey fan. Still -- Bitty’s mother brought him up right, and he’s resolved to stick to his manners even if he now lives in a frat house. Someone with malicious intentions, he rationalizes to himself, wouldn't knock before entering. “Hi. Wouldya like to come in? I’m afraid our oven’s down, so I don’t have much to offer in terms of baked goods --”

“Oh, no, that won’t be necessary!” The man dismisses quickly, his smile not waning any; it’s hard not to eye it suspiciously. Absently, Bitty can make out the sound of feet shuffling, which presumably means the boys are crowding together behind him to peer curiously at the stranger on their doorstep. “I’m from The Swallow, I’m here to deliver a message for you. And Jack Zimmermann, but I’m sure you can pass it on. Our annual Samwell Awards issue is coming out early next month, as you know --”

“Sure,” Bitty confirms politely, although he’s never heard of the thing until about two minutes ago. There’s no sense in getting the man down.

“-- and we wanted your response on the win. We do that for the real popular categories. If you want to draft a short statement, you can reply to the email we sent you two --”

“I’m sorry,” Bitty cuts him off, maintaining a carefully polite tone. He hasn’t checked his email since the previous night, too preoccupied with avoiding his American Publics essay and fretting over Betsy. Somewhere behind him there are more heavy footsteps coming down the stairs and one of the boys whispers excitedly, Bitty won a Samwell Award!, though he’s not sure which. “What win? Who’s you two?”

“Oh,” the Swallow guy blinks, obviously taken aback. His smile doesn’t completely disappear but thankfully thins a little bit, at last stretching over less than two thirds of his face. He looks marginally less maniacal like this, Bitty thinks uncharitably. ��You and Jack Zimmermann?”

There’s another shuffle of feet. Bitty turns his head to catch Jack pushing Shitty aside, coming to stand a step behind Bitty’s right shoulder. Bitty hasn’t seen him since they got back from Superberry and Jack headed upstairs to study, chirping Bitty for not doing the same all the while. He’s taken his thin fleece jacket off since, and the soft V-neck he’s had underneath clings to his biceps, to the shape of his pecs. His hair is messy, the smell of his aftershave hasn’t faded yet, and his palm rests lightly between Bitty’s shoulder blades to keep his balance in the narrow, crammed doorway. Bitty’s stomach jumps at the sight of him and he can feel a reflexive smile tugging at his lips. It’s an uncontrollable reaction to Jack’s presence, no matter how many times Bitty’s seen him that day. Good gracious, but it’s plumb pathetic.

Jack is oblivious to Bitty’s eyes on him, too busy frowning at the Swallow guy from above Bitty’s head. “What is this about?”

The guy’s expression is clearly confused, despite the upturned mouth in his creasing face. His eyes survey the huddled group in front of him searchingly, as if waiting for them to catch up. When no one adds anything his smile drops entirely and he says: “You guys won Cutest Couple!”

Time seems to slow down while Bitty’s mind stomps on an emergency break and short-circuits completely. He knows things are happening in the backdrop, can hear someone behind him, probably Holster, choking really loudly on their spit, but none of it truly registers.

The Swallow guy is frowning now, looking completely baffled as to why they’re not enthused at the news. “Seriously, did you not get the email?”

“We. What?” is the only thing Bitty manages weakly. Whatever smile was on his face is thoroughly wiped off now. His heartbeat begins pounding in his ears, drowning out any further background noise under its heavy thrumming. From the brief glance he braves, Jack is not coping much better. His mouth is opening and closing silently.

"Yeah!” The guy recovers, apparently blind to the catastrophe he’s inadvertently causing. “I mean, I’ll be honest, some of the staff was like, ‘enough with the fucking hockey team’, and Khalil and Sara who did that awesome Halloween costume, they came really close -- but I was totally on your side. Anyway, the draft should be in your inboxes. We’d like to have your response in the next couple of days so we can start running it. The more romantic and gooey the better, of course. Thank you!"

He smiles and then skips down the stairs before Bitty’s brain fully catches up with what has just occurred on his front porch. He can barely grasp at tail ends of thoughts before they slip away from him, disappearing in a cloudy daze of absolute horror. His pulse is still racing and his fingers, wrapped around the door handle, are trembling.

Behind him, Ransom makes a slow wheezy sound and then descends into hysterical laughter. Bitty’s feeling rather hysterical himself, actually, but he’s not in the mood for laughing at all.

“Can’t believe it’s another year we didn’t win Best Party,” Holster mopes back in the kitchen, sprawled out spread-legged in a chair with his arms crossed over his chest. “It’s because of Alpha Sigma Phi and their fucking tropical Christmas party, I know it, Rans, I can feel it in my booze bones. Like, okay, they served drinks in real coconuts while bare-ass naked in twenty degrees, so what."

Ransom reaches out to give him a consolatory clap on the back. "We've always got next year, bro. Our names will appear on the holy Swallow pages, I promise."

“You’re right,” Holster sighs rather dramatically, sagging down a few extra inches in the chair. “We mustn’t despair. I’ve already bookmarked some ideas -- think we can keep live parrots in the Haus? Only for a few hours!”

“What I would like to know,” Shitty muses, stroking his mustache between two fingers while looking from Jack to Bitty’s flaming face and back again, “is who the fuck is their source. I mean, no offence, Bits, but if anybody is going to be Jackie’s fake-ass boytoy I call double fucking dibs and I’m willing to fight you on it.” He then considers it for a split second longer and says, “Or negotiate with food, honestly, I’m amendable.”

“Cooking is a touchy subject right now,” Dex mumbles from his perch by the counter, away from the cluster of boys that’s spread out at the table.

Dex looks like Bitty feels, actually: like he’s seriously regretting being present in this instance, and is looking for any excuse to make a quick escape. Or -- maybe only partially how Bitty feels, anyway. There’s another whole side of Bitty that’s feeling like there’s a vacuum in his chest, a ringing in his ears, a voice in his mind whispering, they know, they all know, Jack knows and he hates you for it.

Bitty has been studiously avoiding Jack’s face since they all withdrew from the door. He’s convinced that his feelings are written all over his face, pining daydreams altering his features and sappy midnight fantasies painting his cheeks bright red. He’s sure that one look in his eyes would give away every guilty thought he’s had since November, so he determinedly keeps his head down. Only, then Jack clears his throat and Bitty can’t help but spring his eyes up to look at him -- like a moth drawn to the flame that’d inevitably scorch it.

"Well, whatever is the misunderstanding, obviously they can't actually run that, Bittle. I mean, because. Hockey, and." His eyebrows do something complicated that Bitty cannot bring himself to study too closely.

The words hit like a two-hundred pound flour bag dropped on Bitty’s chest, weighing him down into the floor. Bitty tries to swallow, fails, tries again. His throat still grates like it’s made of raw sandpaper when he speaks.

"Right, no, of course," there’s this horrible sinking in his gut, a phantom sensation of freefalling that tastes like acid when it reaches the back of his tongue. "Of course, Jack. I know that. The last thing you need right now is --" he finally swallows past the lump in his throat, drops his eyes to watch his toes curl inside his shoes and dent the fabric upwards. “-- rumors about the gay kid on your team.”

Shitty says, “Bitty,” with a sharp edge in his tone, and when Bitty looks up Jack looks like he’s been struck.

"Hold on, Bittle, that's --"

“It’s okay, Jack!” Bitty makes a valiant effort to smile reassuringly. His chest is growing tighter and tighter, and he really can’t handle hearing Jack’s explanation right now. He feels like he’s shaking all over, like more and more words are being rattled out of his mouth without his permission. “I mean, it’s utterly ridiculous, but that’s The Swallow for you, I ‘spose. We’ll tell them it’s nonsense before anyone in the league catches wind of it. I’m sorry I even put your career at risk like that, honestly.”

“Bittle,” Jack says again, more firmly. He looks almost angry.

Holster’s stunned look is flickering between the two of them, and Bitty can feel the humiliation crawling up the back of his neck. He thinks that if he stays sitting in the kitchen any longer the boys might actually hear the splintering sounds his heart is making in his chest. Or he might start crying, whichever comes first.

“Don’t worry about it, really,” Bitty forces himself out of his chair, squeezes Jack’s elbow in passing for good measure, even though bringing his hands anywhere near Jack feels like torture. He doesn’t want Jack to feel guilty about this -- it’s not his fault. “It’s fine. I gotta go, I’m meeting Prof. Atley, but we’ll talk about it later, okay?”

He bolts out of the kitchen and rushes down the hall. The last thing he hears is Ransom saying, “Dude, I’m pretty sure his meeting with her was like, four hours ago,” before the Haus door slams shut behind him.

The worst part is, Bitty knows Jack is straight.

Jack dates 50 Most girls from the tennis team, he takes ladies in tall heels to Screw, he brings puck bunnies to his room during kegsters. Or -- that turned out, actually, to be not all that true after all -- but.

Jack is straight. Bitty knew this all along. Bitty knew this and still let his foolish, stubborn heart say, maybe. Bitty saw Jack laughing at his weak chirps, and looking at him sometimes when Bitty was turned away, and there was that party, with Parse, and Bitty’s blood was rushing in his ears and he tried so hard not to listen, but they almost looked like they -- and Bitty thought, maybe --

But Jack wasn’t. Of course not. And Bitty knows it’s so unfair and so unjustified that he’s allowing himself to be mad about Jack’s words. Because these boys accept Bitty for who he is, have never shied away from him, have always been comfortable with his presence in their lives and their house and their locker room, and that’s not something to be taken for granted. It’s not their fault that they’re straight and that’s easier, not their fault that Jack’s straight and Bitty can’t bring himself to let go. Besides, something like this, it could wreck Jack's career even if it were true, and it isn't, so of course Jack would want it gone. It's not personal, Bitty knows. He has no reason to be so hurt.

Except maybe it stings a little, how untrue it really is. Maybe it burns a little inside to know that other people see what he sees, what he wishes were true, and still know that he can never have that for real. And maybe it hurts, that Jack can so easily make the article go away and never deal with those rumors again, because it's simply not true about him, but it will always be true about Bitty. Maybe he’s tired of how he will always have to fight for his place while people like Jack Zimmermann can walk right in.

Maybe.

But none of it is Jack's fault. Because Jack is straight, and Bitty isn’t, and he’s gone and fallen in love with him anyway.

Breakfast with only Lardo and Jack is a quiet affair the next morning. Habit has them settled down at the team’s usual long table, but they take up significantly less space just the three of them. Bitty is surprised by the two empty seats remaining to each side of them despite the crowded dining hall, but considers that maybe the Samwell population knows whose seats are available and aren't willing to risk it.

Lardo is chewing her toast silently by Bitty's side, oversized hoodie draped over most of her face. Jack is sitting across from them, peeling the shells off a pile of hard-boiled eggs. His body is curved in a stiff line over his plate and his elbows are tucked in close to his sides. He keeps sneaking glances at Bitty every few minutes, looking torn; Bitty busies himself with spooning exactly three banana slices in every dip into his oatmeal bowl, keeps hurriedly shoving them into his mouth every time Jack looks like maybe he’s going to actually say something.

Bitty spent the majority of the previous night hiding out in a quiet corner of Norris library, binging episodes of The Great British Bake Off on his phone. When he ultimately found the courage to come back to the Haus, he power-walked straight into his room and didn’t venture out for anything more than brushing his teeth. The walls in the Haus are thin, however, and he could still hear Jack in his own room through the closed doors, speaking on the phone with his father in brisk French. They didn't exactly sound angry, but Bitty had unintentionally overheard enough of Jack’s phone conversations to recognize Jack’s business tone easily.

Jack’s lawyer had sent The Swallow a sternly phrased email first thing that morning -- for formality, Jack informed Bitty when the two of them left the Haus for breakfast with Lardo. His hands were tucked deep in his pockets and his eyes were hidden beneath the bill of his Habs cap. He kept his body angled away from Bitty, maintaining a careful six feet between them, and Bitty’s whole body ached like he’d spent the night playing consecutive shifts instead of tossing and turning in his bed. It was the only time they’ve acknowledged the Swallow article since the previous afternoon. Bitty changed the subject immediately after, and prattled meaninglessly the whole way to Commons.

The three of them separate after breakfast, Lardo heading for the studio and Jack and Bitty for their respective classes. Bitty spends most of his spare noon hours trying to do work in the kitchen, but he steals longing glimpses at Betsy more often than he does the reading for US Intellectual HIST or the darn American Publics essay he still hasn’t started.

This day needs an assist, he justifies when he eventually deserts his open notes on the table in favor of hunting down a clean towel. Polishing dishes is a more effective way to escape his blues. Maybe he’ll make some jam -- that doesn’t require a working oven, and it’d be a longer-term distraction from the mess he’s landed in.

Jack’s lawyer's actions in mind, the knock on the Haus door doesn’t really surprise Bitty. He can’t help the way his body tenses at the sound, though; the blood rushing through his body is too much like the terrible lightheadedness he experiences when checked.

Jack comes down the stairs, taking them two at a time, and grinds to a halt when he sees Bitty leaning against the wall at the entrance to the kitchen and staring at the door.

“It’s probably the Swallow rep,” Jack states the obvious, voice completely monotonous and face blank.

Bitty's gut lurches. He tries his very best, but he’s certain that his smile looks even more put-on than it was the day before.

“We should probably go get it, then,” he says. He keeps his hands wrapped in the dish towel as they move to open the door, to have something to do with them and to cover up the way they’re shaking.

The guy standing on the bottom of their stairs is the same one from yesterday. His loose printed shirt is somehow even uglier than the plaid vest, but this time no smile is taking up the majority of his face. In fact, he isn’t smiling at all; he kind of looks like he’s been sent to the gallows and couldn't beg out of his sentence.

“We've been informed that a mistake was made,” the guy says promptly, glancing between the two of them. Everything about his face and his body language appears cautious.

“Yes,” Jack confirms firmly. The guy blinks in sync with Bitty, both of them waiting to see if Jack has any intention to follow that statement with an explanation, but none seems imminent.

“We understand that it’s an honest mistake and we just want it scrapped," Bitty says instead, trying to keep his voice from betraying any emotion, even when his vocal cords are wound tight. "We can't be the cutest couple if we're not -- if we're not."

“You talked to your lawyer,” the guy says faintly. Bitty's not sure that he actually heard a word of what was said. He keeps eyeing Jack’s rigid posture and bulging muscles like he’s afraid that he’s going to be dragged into a fist fight right there on the lawn.

“It’s a legal matter,” Jack replies curtly, frowning.

“No one ever sent his lawyer after us,” the guy says, fainter still. “It’s just The Swallow, man.”

Jack's frown deepens. He’s wearing his hockey face, mouth pinched and eye narrowed, every angle of his face turning sharper. He looks serious, assertive, like he’s getting ready to step out on the ice for the puck drop. Bitty’s heart hurts so badly looking at him that he has to turn away. His eyes, mid-movement, catch on three faces eavesdropping from behind the living room’s doorway. He just barely suppresses a heavy sigh.

"-- you’d be spreading misinformation with unwelcome consequences,” Jack is talking, apparently, and Bitty tuned out most of it. “So you understand why we need you to retract that immediately and delete all further copies."

"Yes," the guy nods tentatively, eyes jerking in Bitty’s direction and then immediately back to Jack. "I'm -- sorry? We really thought you were --"

"Well we ain't," Bitty says, wringing the towel in his hands to hinder an uncommon urge to break something with them.

"Yes, I -- I understand," the guy seems as spooked by Bitty now, contemplating him and the towel as warily as he did Jack. "But we --"

"And I've got a date!" Bitty blurts, before he can hold his tongue from making his situation worse. Shitty whispers, the fuck, brah?, loud enough to carry all the way to the front door. "A date! With. Someone else, obviously, who is very much not Jack Zimmermann, so if you could -- make it go away -- good heavens this could be embarrassing for my date --"

"Of course,” the guy is nodding more vigorously now, head bouncing much like a dashboard bobblehead. He takes a cautious step back. “We're, uh, sorry. We’ll take care of it."

The guy retreats from the porch, glancing back every few steps as he hastens down the sidewalk.

Jack shuts the door behind them when they step back inside, and has to move closer to Bitty to allow the door to close. It brings his arm flush with Bitty’s back, solid and warm through the thin fabric of his shirt.

Bitty’s breath catches. His look flits sideways to watch Jack’s face twist into something Bitty hasn’t seen since the playoffs last year. He really felt like Jack and him were getting steadily closer throughout the year, considers Jack one of his closest friends, but he doesn’t think he’s imagining the distance between them in the last twenty-four hours. It’s more painful than the verbal confirmation that Jack will never like him back was. It’s painful that Bitty’s been shoving his feelings so far down to avoid this very outcome, only to have it blow up in his face through no fault of his own.

"What's that now!” Holster’s booming voice snaps Bitty out of his brooding, and he jerks his eyes up to see that Ransom, Shitty and Holster have crawled out of their eavesdropping spot and are blocking the hallway. “You've got a what and didn't tell us!"

“It’s not a big deal, y’all,” Bitty mumbles, mortified at how much he’s really not lying at all. He slinks away from Jack’s touch, tries to at least be subtle about it. Jack's expression is shuttering further with every moment that passes and Bitty is feeling irrationally miserable about it.

“Is too, Bits!” Ransom claps him on the shoulder excitedly, shaking his entire frame. "You know you gotta tell us all about it, we get veto rights! Is he hot? What's his name? Is he going to be your shoulders for Spring C?"

Bitty’s lousy day has only been getting progressively worse, which he thinks validates the way he bristles and knocks Ransom's hand off his shoulder. "I am average height, Justin Oluransi!"

So it's not -- really a date.

Anthony from his Eating Practices Since the 19th Century course, who sits two seats away from Bitty and always forgets to bring a pen, caught up with him after class and offered to study together. Bitty’s doing alright in that course, but Anthony is smart and friendly and it’s a good incentive to actually get some work done before finals, so Bitty smiled and said yes. He didn’t think a few days later he’d be lying about it to his friends.

They meet outside Annie’s because Anthony preferred it to Founder’s, which Bitty didn’t mind. He was a little embarrassed about how the librarians might react to the sight of his face. They, unlike some others, don’t have a problem believing he’s a member of the Men’s Hockey Team, and the treatment earned by his teammates’ behavior extends to him.

Ransom wouldn’t let him leave the Haus until his outfit has been appraised, which means he’s maybe a little overdressed for a platonic study date -- but Anthony is in nice jeans and wearing neither a team logo shirt nor a marijuana crop top, so he’s already setting the bar higher than Bitty’s usual company.

"After you," Anthony beams, opening the door for Bitty. It’s awfully nice of him. Maybe Bitty should consider running cotillion classes for his boys before graduation.

It’s easier to revert to his sunny nature in the company of someone new. Anthony keeps up chatter about the last subjects they covered in class, relates to Bitty’s chronic procrastination tendencies, and even insists on paying for both of their drinks. Bitty tries to refuse, instantly dejected by the stark reminder of coffee runs with Jack, but Anthony argues that they’d probably refill several times and Bitty can get the next one. His winning smile is so convincing that Bitty can’t find it in himself to say no.

It happens again when Bitty begins leading them to a larger table in the middle of the café where they’ll have more room to spread out. Anthony points at a table by the windows instead, says, “There, it’ll be quieter,” and Bitty instinctively thinks, those are the windows Jack and I always sit by. He then thinks, good Lord, ERB, get a hold of yourself, and agrees. There’s not much point in attending a study date if he’ll be constantly thinking about Jack Zimmermann.

They spread out all their notes and laptops and books, settling on both sides of the small, round table. Anthony drinks his coffee extra hot and the steam fogs up his glasses, which causes Bitty to laugh and Anthony to grin sheepishly. It sets a good mood for their joint studying.

They work decently well together. Anthony's been more diligent with his schoolwork but Bitty is a faster reader than him, so they catch up with each other fairly quickly and proceed from there. Bitty finds it fun, partnering with someone who doesn’t consider violent food breaks an essential part of studying, and enjoys having somebody to complain about the professor with. The two of them are just starting on technological advances at the end of the century when Bitty’s shoulders fully loosen for the first time in three days and he thinks: this is going well, this is nice, maybe we can do this more often.

This is also the exact point he looks up to tell Anthony about Louis Pasteur and catches Holster and Ransom spying on him from outside Annie’s front window.

His knee-jerk response is uncontainable: he groans out loud. Anthony seems alarmed, twisting in his chair to look over his shoulder and detect what Bitty’s glaring at. Ransom, who clearly knows they’ve been caught, looks directly at Anthony with a deliberately threatening face, pointing two fingers at his eyes, then at Anthony, and back at his eyes.

Anthony makes a confused face into his mug and says, "Um."

"Gosh, I am so sorry," Bitty drops his face into his palms, trying to smother the waves of heat rushing to his cheeks. "It's my teammates -- they have no boundaries and they -- gracious, they think this is a date --"

Anthony swallows a mouthful of coffee too quickly before he sets his mug on the table. "Oh, uh. Do you… not think this is a date?"

Bitty lets his hands fall into his lap. His eyes dart to where Holster and Ransom are waving their thumbs up in the air as they mercifully walk away from the window and then back to Anthony, whose face is unmoving. "...What?"

The top of Anthony's cheeks pink, and he adjusts the glasses on his nose with a knuckle. "I... totally asked you meaning this to be a date."

"Oh," Bitty exhales numbly. Oh, butter my butt and call me a biscuit, he thinks, and then opens his mouth to say something to Anthony -- anything at all, because the poor boy is starting to squirm in his chair -- but all his words seem to get stubbornly stuck behind his teeth.

Because Anthony is perfectly nice. He’s mild-mannered, has a pleasant smile, and he's made Bitty laugh in class a few times when the professor wasn't looking. He's sitting across from Bitty with his hands twitching on top of the table, like Bitty's answer on the matter of their date is important to him. Like he would actually really like it to be one, so he found the courage to ask.

"Oh boy, I really didn't realize," Bitty confesses, finally, clutching his coffee tightly between his fingers. He's never thought he'd be this bad at this, but apparently he's just completely and entirely blind to anyone's affections as long as anyone isn't Jack Zimmermann. And now he made this difficult for both Anthony and himself.

"That's okay," Anthony says, clearing his throat. His lips quirk up in some intimation of a smile, which is, while still very pleasant to look at, much less genuine than his usual smile. "No, really, it's cool. My fault for not being clearer. We can -- I can go and order a refill for this coffee, and when I'm back we'll forget about it? We still have work left to do." He drags his legs out from beneath the table, turning sideways in his seat, before he risks another look at Bitty. "Unless you --? I mean, now that you -- realize -- would you want it to be…?"

The answer to that, Bitty thinks regretfully, is too complex for an acquaintance. Because how does one say, you're very nice and I imagine liking you could be very easy, but I've never dated in my life and right as I thought maybe I'd give it a try, I went and fell head over heels for a grumpy, kind-hearted, heterosexual Canadian?

One doesn't, Bitty reckons, but one also cannot keep waiting forever for something that will never, ever come. So he straightens his back and says, with his best Georgia smile, "Well, how about we carry on studyin’, and maybe we'll see how things go?"

It's a little more strained after that, but that's more Bitty's fault than anything. Anthony is still as perfectly polite as he was before, as focused on the reading. It's just that now every time Anthony smiles at him Bitty freezes, and then feels guilty for freezing, and gets mad at himself for not giving this a fighting chance, and by then he's not smiling back for so long that Anthony's smile shrinks, and Bitty feels even guiltier --

"Look," Anthony tells him after they packed everything back into their bags and walked companionably outside. "This hasn't been ideal, but I still had a good time. I'd like to maybe -- do it again?" Anthony smiles genuinely this time, and his smile is so pleasant, and he tilts his head the slightest bit closer to say, "As an official date this time?", and --

This is the second time Bitty freaks out about a very nice boy leaning in to possibly kiss him at Annie's, and it's exactly as mortifying as the first.

Bitty jumps back painfully obviously, as startled himself by his physical reaction as Anthony clearly is. He's blushing fiercely when he stammers, "Oh -- I -- I don't think it'll work out, I'm so -- I'm so sorry --" turns around, almost breaking into a run, and calls out, "I'll bake you a pie!"

The corners of Bitty’s eyes begin to burn, indicating the impending shameful tears. He’s terribly upset with himself for his reaction, but he’d be even more upset if he allowed himself to cry over it, so he makes the effort to blink furiously the entire way home.

The team gathers to eat dinner together that night. Bitty’s still a little vulnerable in the aftermath of his failed study date, but he does his best to hide it, pushing himself to be cheerful and revel in quality time with his boys. It’s easier when Ransom spends most of the walk to the dining hall engaging him in a conversation about wild alien conspiracies. It’s harder when Shitty and Holster join forces to cajole him into giving deets, and don’t take his, “Oh good Lord, there’s nothing to talk about!” as an acceptable answer. Telling them the truth is not an option -- they’re his best friends, but they would absolutely, no question about it, chirp him to death, and he’s really not in the right mood to take it good-naturedly.

Bitty’s surprised when it’s Jack who eventually tells them to knock it off, shoving Holster’s shoulder to force his way into sitting between him and Bitty at the table. Holster topples sideways into Nursey, and Jack seizes the vacated space and grants Bitty a miniature triumphant smile.

Jack’s dour mood had persisted through yesterday and during their walk over, but Bitty’s been watching him gradually thaw ever since they arrived at Commons; this smile is the first true, earnest one in days, and it melts Bitty on the inside. He’s immensely relieved that at least their friendship isn’t ruined, that the past few days have only been an unfortunate bump in an otherwise smooth road. Bitty tries to cling on to that, use it to move forward from the raincloud lingering over him since his afternoon with Anthony.

A baby-faced freshman approaches their table while Chowder is telling them about a text conversation with his sister. Bitty has his phone out before anyone else even reacts -- the nervous look in the kid’s face is enough warning, and he’s not disappointed; the kid zeroes in on Jack and asks for a signature on his Samwell jersey. There is absolute silence at the table while Jack surrenders to his inescapable fate and pulls out a pen. He then ducks his head and hangs on to that pen once the kid is out of earshot and the boys begin chirping him ruthlessly, yelling loudly enough to rattle the cutlery.

Bitty’s hiccupping laughter comes as a surprise to himself, but it’s the welcome sort. He directs his smile at his phone while he tweets -- true friends don't care that you're a professional hockey player; true friends ask you to sign their mashed potatoes during dinner -- and when he raises his head Jack is peeking at his screen and grinning at him.

“Not a professional player yet, eh? You can’t go lying to the Twitter.”

Jack is so obviously pleased with himself, white teeth gleaming in his mischievous grin. Bitty's heart soars and then swiftly sinks to the bottom of his stomach. He tries to hang on to the gratitude for what he has, but something in Jack’s voice triggers the memory of it stating, obviously they can't actually run that, and then, consecutively, the memory of Anthony's dumbfounded look when Bitty fled away from him.

Not even Jack's benign chirps or his concerned glances can restore Bitty's uplifted mood after that.

Can’t make it to Founder’s tonight. Sorry! :( :( Raincheck?

The reading room is quieter than the rest of the Haus at night. It's dark out, gray shingles lit only by the lamp inside Bitty's bedroom and the faint glow of the streetlights down the road. Bitty lets his legs dangle from the edge of the roof, cradling a can of Twisted Tea and watching his shoes swing twelve feet above the shadowy green of the lawn.

There's the sound of a creaky window sash sliding up behind him. “Hey, Bittle.”

Bitty turns around. Jack is sitting on the ledge of his windowsill, holding a folded blanket in his lap. It takes a few seconds to blink away the disorientation caused by rumination and beer. “Jack! What’re you doing?”

Jack shrugs. “You said you’re not coming with me to Founder’s, and then you didn’t answer your phone. I wanted to check in.” He holds out the blanket with a modest smile. “Here -- so you won't get cold. Spring is pretty rough on you Southerners, eh?”

Bitty snorts inelegantly at the chirp, but stretches his arm to accept the blanket. He twists back to watch the twinkling Christmas lights on the LAX frat house across the road. They never take those down, and never add any new ones during the holidays. It’s as good a reason as any to hate the lacrosse team.

Jack clears his throat, an obtrusive sound in the relative silence. “Can I -- do you want me to stay? I mean, I can leave if you need some quiet.”

Bitty looks at him from over his shoulder, chin digging into his collarbone. Jack’s face is gentler than Bitty’s seen it in a while, mellowed out by the orange tint of the streetlights, and it’s so unfair. Even when Bitty’s upset about Jack he wants Jack near him, wants to hear Jack’s opinion, wants his straightforward, pragmatic type of advice. He wonders what Jack’s face would look like if Bitty was brave enough to tell him the truth about what’s bothering him. A sardonic laugh almost escapes him at that visual.

“No, you can stay,” Bitty says instead, and then makes a herculean effort to brighten up. “As long as you promise not to prattle on, you chatterbox, you know I like silences.”

The chirp falls flat when Bitty’s cheery façade cracks. Jack swings both legs out the window and slides down to sit by Bitty while Bitty takes another swig out of the can. There’s a lot of space on the roof, two empty lawn chairs on Bitty’s end, but Jack sits right next to him. Bitty’s shoulder knocks into Jack’s bicep and Jack’s thick thigh brushes against his, but Jack doesn’t take any action to inch away.

Bitty collects his knees close to his chest, leans his chin on top of them and continues watching the span of street visible from their roof. Beneath their feet, some couple probably returning from the bars by the river stumble together on the sidewalk, the echo of their giggles drifting up to the reading room. Bitty can’t quite cover his grimace in time to hide it from Jack.

"You're upset," Jack jabs Bitty’s elbow with his own, brow furrowing.

"No!" Bitty objects quickly, hoping his voice is only a lick squeaky. He's not drunk by any means, but the Twisted Tea makes everything a bit fuzzy, softens the world at its fringes. "I'm not upset. It's -- finals are coming up in two weeks, and I've got this essay I haven’t started, and -- you know, Betsy hasn’t been well and what am I gonna do, if I can’t bake to distract myself before the tests --"

"Bittle," Jack cuts him off quietly. Bitty lifts his head off his knees just enough to enable a quick glance; Jack is looking at him, those intense eyes trained on Bitty’s face, making his cheeks flush self-consciously. Jack’s expression is his distinct blend of uncomfortable but determined. "You're upset. Are you -- is it -- your date was this afternoon…?"

Bitty’s blush deepens, and he lays his cheek down to avoid eye contact. "So?"

"So," Jack begins, clumsily, and then shifts his arm so it nudges Bitty’s, fingers curled loosely into his palm. "Did he -- I mean."

It takes Bitty a moment to decipher Jack’s faltering sentence, but -- "Gosh, no," Bitty denies with profound embarrassment once he follows Jack's train of thought. Jack, unable to shake off the role of captain, is assuming some boy hurt him. Bitty doesn’t know how to tell him that he couldn't even get through the date to get hurt how normal people do. "He was a gentleman. If anything, it was me who was on my worst behavior."

Jack doesn’t look convinced. He bumps the back of his curled fingers against Bitty’s thigh. "But you're upset."

Bitty loosens his grip on his knees, keeps the hand not holding the can busy by fiddling with the hem of Jack’s blanket. Jack is both the last and the only person he wants to talk to about this. Bitty’s original plan was to get tipsy enough to fall asleep without thinking his emotions through, and then spend the next day compartmentalizing it away -- but Jack’s presence brings everything to the forefront of his mind, plucks at the tangle in his chest until it unravels.

"Well, because --” he sighs, and the expansion of his lungs must fracture some dam, because the words begin spilling out in long strings of nonsense. “I just -- I came here from Georgia because I thought it’d be different, y’know? I couldn't fit in there, and I know -- you said yourself -- I know it’s not any different here, not really, not in hockey, but outside of hockey it’s Samwell, so at least I could be me, right? But apparently I can't even be that, because I can't manage a simple thing like a date with a cute boy," he stops to take a deep breath, buries his face in the nook between his knees. "And, goodness, I can't believe I'm -- none of this is on you, I'm sorry --"

"Bittle," Jack touches his knee, inches away from his cheek, causing Bitty to look up. Jack doesn’t move his fingers from Bitty’s bare leg after Bitty lifts his head. "Don’t be sorry. It's okay."

Bitty searches Jack’s face. He doesn’t know how to read it, what the tiny microexpressions currently mean, but Jack’s fingers are splayed in the valleys of his joints and there’s something grounding in it. He takes another big breath in an attempt to calm himself down.

"I guess," Bitty whispers, but the turmoil in his chest doesn’t settle, not after he started letting it all out. He can almost picture it surging in him, clawing its way up to his mouth. "But -- is it? Okay? I'm just." He runs a hand through his hair, frustrated with himself, both for feeling so much and for being unable to articulate feelings with the proper words. "I feel like I can't just be me. Because who I am isn't good enough at home, and isn't good enough for hockey, and who I am likes boys but apparently I'm no good at liking them right, or -- the right ones --"

He restrains himself from saying anything incriminating, biting his lip hard enough to taste the metallic flavor of blood.

"You are good enough for hockey," Jack says, stilted. His hand tightens on Bitty’s knee and belatedly pulls away. "You're a strong player, and you did a great job this season. I know we lost, but you still did good. You'll be even better next year."

Bitty exhales sharply, rubs his eyes. He knows Jack; he knows he chose to latch onto hockey because that's something he’s capable of expressing. Telling Bitty he's a good player is something Jack can find words for. Bitty didn’t expect Jack to be the right person to talk through an identity crisis, but it’d be an easier evasion to accept if he wasn’t wrong.

"Jack, no offense, but that's a load of horseshit." Jack is clearly caught off guard, seems to be gearing himself up for retaliation, but Bitty talks right over him. "It is! It is, because I might do alright now -- here -- but if I wanted to go into real hockey, into the league, you think they'd be alright with who I am? You've heard what some guys’ve got to say on the ice, and this isn’t even professional hockey."

"You want to play professionally?" The familiar glint in Jack’s eyes indicates that he’s losing track of the grand scheme of the conversation.

"No! But that's not the point!" Bitty swallows, because it isn't, but getting to the point might as well be impossible with Jack. He can't exactly tell him that he's heartbroken and disappointed in himself and everything looks more bleak from this perspective. He's no better than Jack right now; they’re both afraid to dip their toes into the murky waters of everything Bitty said that isn’t about the game. "I couldn't if I wanted to because of who I am."

"You could," Jack says, looking away, his shoulders tight. The conviction in his voice gets Bitty's attention. Jack really isn’t the most emotive of guys, and it takes a lot to get his voice to change pitch. "The league isn't a very welcoming place, but it's hockey. The whole point is hockey. And if you're good at hockey, they'll just have to accept that -- at some point. It might be hard, but if hockey is what you want, then --" he looks up, catches Bitty's eyes. Jack’s are unfocused, like somehow he forgot Bitty was even there. "I mean -- you said it isn't, but if it was -- all I'm saying is --"

"Sure," Bitty brings the can up to his mouth for another swig, skeptical even in the face of Jack’s unanticipated speech. "I get it. You can play, and all."

"Yes,” Jack insists, turning his upper body towards Bitty. Their knees press together and Jack’s face is suddenly a lot closer than it was before. Bitty has to blink a few times until he can get his pulse under control. “You can. Because you are good enough, Bittle."

They stare at each other, time stretching between them, caught up in the unforeseen gravity of the situation. Bitty can’t really wrap his head around hearing Jack defending him with such vigor, but he knows there’s nothing he can say to argue. That’s Jack’s opinion. He’s never been guilty of handing out compliments he doesn’t believe in.

"Thanks, Jack." Bitty whispers. "'m sorry. It's been a rough day. Sometimes --” He sighs again, bows his head, and musters the last shreds of his courage to be at least a little honest. “I guess sometimes it can get lonely. And it sucked to realize that it's my own fault I'm alone in the first place."

Jack subdues gradually, his shoulders folding inward and the fire in his eyes dying out, leaving room for something much more empathetic than Bitty expected.

"I'm sorry, Bittle." He reaches out to grasp the ball of Bity’s shoulder in his large palm, squeezing it tightly. It’s a friendly gesture of comfort, one the boys in the team offer each other all the time, but Jack’s thumb is absently rubbing small circles on the base of Bitty’s neck and it spreads tingles through his skin.

“It’s alright,” Bitty moves away, smiling, but the words are like dust in his mouth and it isn’t really alright at all. They settle back into sitting side by side, and Bitty notices Jack's fixed eyes on the side of his face, but he doesn’t turn to look.

Friday evening finds Bitty scrambling to complete last-minute assignments before Spring C the next day. He shuts himself away in his room and turns off his phone, tries to make his eyes focus on long lines of text instead of on any creaking noises in the Haus that might provide a distraction. This tactic has failed him more often than not, but for once the Haus is completely empty and any creaking Bitty might hear could only be chalked up to Ransom’s ghosts. Lardo and Shitty are out buying booze for Spring C, Holster is with the frogs, Ransom is at his weekend study group, and Jack has been in Providence with his mother all day, looking at potential apartments, and will be returning later to have dinner with her and her former Department Chair.

Studying is easier when Bitty’s using it to avoid thinking about other things. Lately, since his oven has been acting up, it’s been easy using studying as a distraction from thinking about Jack -- about Jack moving to Providence, about Jack taking the first steps in his adult life away from Bitty and the team. It isn’t a better distraction than watching Say Yes To The Dress with Holster or listening to music with Lardo, but in the absence of all other options, it’s good enough to push Bitty to make his deadlines, even if it’s at the last minute.

Bitty’s laptop emits a sharp ping that alerts him to a new incoming email, and Bitty scrambles up from the floor, almost tripping over two piles of reading material on his way. His room is an absolute mess; papers covering the bedspread and the desk, textbooks spilling from inside his bag onto the floor, pens scattered haphazardly. He’s been reviewing for the HIST test while emailing back and forth with the TA for his American Publics course -- the last three lectures of which he honestly cannot remember, but is somehow expected to write two thousand words for anyway.

The new email in his inbox isn’t from his TA, however. It reads, RE: RE: Your Nomination in the 2015 Samwell Awards, and only contains one line of text, visible in the thread’s preview without Bitty clicking it open. Attached is a confirmation for the removal and termination of the aforementioned article.

Bitty pauses, his essay forgotten, and goes over the subject lines four more times.

Bitty hasn’t read the article. Bitty didn't want to read the article, had convinced himself that he was indifferent and was more interested in putting the whole ludicrous affair behind them. But now he’s incapable of dragging his cursor away from the email’s subject line. He can’t help but want to know what they have to say -- want to know why anyone would mirror his misguided feelings for a close friend.

It can lead to nothing but trouble. Bitty still opens the article file for the first time since the whole mess began on Monday, because he won't have the guts otherwise, but for some masochistic reason he just has to know.

The Samwell Swallow

Vol. 26, Issue 31 | May 2015 | Special Edition | The Samwell Awards

CUTEST COUPLE AWARD: ICE HOCKEY AS A LOVE LANGUAGE

Our most dedicated readers will know that the title of Samwell’s Cutest Couple is highly coveted. Perhaps only second to Dream Date or Biggest Gossip in prestige, this award is one of the greatest honors young Wellie lovebirds can strive for. This year, we’re proud to elect JACK ZIMMERMANN ‘15 and ERIC BITTLE ‘17. We know: enough with the fucking hockey bros. But hear us out.

These unlikely candidates were initially nominated by Zimmermann’s fellow photography class students with an exclusive scoop. Bittle was the subject of Zimmermann’s midterm project! (Awe.) Such a grand romantic gesture could not go overlooked, and we set out to investigate. Copies of Zimmermann’s photos are brought to you here, courtesy of the Department of Visual Art.

[Images: a collage containing a dozen semi-professional photographs, all depicting BITTLE. His character is consistently linked to themes of warmth and light, and is obviously portrayed with great affection.]

We were delighted by what we learned. Observant Wellies report that the two are often seen taking long romantic walks around campus, with Zimmermann’s lens sometimes pointed at the scenery, but more often at his boyfriend. Sources at Annie’s, the local café, tell The Swallow that, “Yeah, they’ve been like, coming here at least two or three times a week this year? There’s their table [points at a secluded window table in the corner]. The tall guy always pays -- what? No, they’re almost always alone. Except this one time that they were here with this other couple? I don’t know, man, I see lots of people on dates, but these guys kinda stand out. They’re always giggling with each other, it’s ridiculous. And loud.”

Our research yielded clear results: service staff at Samwell’s Jerry’s, Superberry and Stop&Shop have gone on record with similar statements; students who shared a class with the two disclose that their constant whispering and flirting have been impossible to ignore; even the janitor at Faber Memorial Rink reports that current team captain and fellow liney spend every weekend skating alone as they watch the sun rise, while no practice is scheduled! It’s official - Bittle and Zimmermann are, indeed, 2015’s Cutest Couple.

[Image: BITTLE and ZIMMERMANN at the Samwell Men’s Hockey Team’s #Epickegster this winter. The two are standing very close in the midst of what appears to be an intimate conversation, leaning towards each other under a bag of free condoms. Text under image reads: Our staffers report that the two then disappeared upstairs while the party was still in full swing. Get it, boys!]

Bitty spends a long, breathless moment staring at the screen with unseeing eyes.

It’s like an out of body experience. Bitty can’t feel the tips of his fingers, can’t feel his toes. He can’t lift his hand to ram the laptop lid shut so his eyes are still glued to the block of text, words blurring together into a solid sheet of gray. His mind keeps losing footing, coherent thoughts cutting off before they can run their course, parts of sentences jamming into one long sequence -- grand romantic gesture, long walks, whispering and flirting -- that plays over and over. Distantly, he’s aware that there are stray tears in the corner of his eyes, but he’s too disconnected from his limbs to do something about it.

People look, he thinks, brain stuttering over the realization, pushing itself out of its shock, people look and see -- people look at the two of us and what they see is --

A loud noise behind his back scares the living daylight out of him, enough to send him spinning on the chair. The door to his bedroom swings open, nearly banging against the wall with the strength of its motion. Behind it is Jack, standing in the doorway with his eyes blown wide and his face pale, looking like he's seen a ghost; panting for breath like he ran a marathon to get there.

Bitty nearly collapses out of his chair, stumbling over the papers on the floor to step closer, arms reaching out automatically. “Jack -- what --? Is everything alright? Aren’t you supposed to be with your mom --?”

“Bitty,” Jack breathes out, unsteady, and then tumbles further into the room. His hair is disheveled and his buttoned shirt is smeared with stains of sweat, and Bitty’s brain is still coming back online but he’s suddenly overcome with how handsome Jack still is, even like this.

And then Jack takes a lengthy step forward right into Bitty’s space, his body enveloping Bitty’s and his broad palms cupping Bitty’s burning cheeks, and tips Bitty’s mouth into his.

Bitty’s eyes remain wide open for one paralyzed split second, taking in the sight of Jack’s dark eyelashes and sculpted brow bone from extreme up close, and then Jack’s lips move and Bitty’s eyelids flutter closed, melting into the unfamiliar action.

Jack's mouth is as soft as Bitty imagined, as hot, velvety lips sliding against Bitty's and catching on the dip of his cupid’s bow. Bitty’s mind keeps up a remote chant of oh my god, Jack is kissing me, oh god, what is happening, before that too is silenced by the thrill of Jack’s mouth parting against his, deepening the kiss, and then everything goes blessedly silent.

An undetermined amount of time later, Jack’s phone begins buzzing insistently; Bitty can feel the vibrations from where his hip is aligned with Jack’s. Jack ignores it, separating their lips to angle his head in the other direction and suck Bitty’s bottom lip into his mouth, tongue wet and tentative. His phone buzzes again, though, and subsequently two times more, and then Jack finally sighs into Bitty’s mouth.

“That’s my mom,” he says quietly, breaking their mouths barely far enough apart to speak. His lower lip is shining with spit and Bitty feels faint, needs to sit down before he falls over, needs to step back before he sinks his teeth into it impulsively. “She’s waiting for me...”

“Oh,” Bitty says. His voice sounds like it’s coming from very far away. He has so many things he wants to say -- what the hell, and what does this mean, and but aren’t you, and stay, stay, don’t go -- yet the only sounds his mouth can apparently make are, “Uh. Okay.”

“We have this… dinner…” Jack continues, and his eyes are so blue and his lips are so red and his cheeks are so pink, and Bitty thinks that maybe this is a very vivid stress-induced hallucination, and also thinks that he wouldn’t mind hallucinating a little longer. “I gotta go, but I’ll -- I’ll be back.”

“Okay,” Bitty says again, even though he’s not sure it is. He’s pretty sure, actually, that once Jack exits the door of his bedroom this spell will break like at Cinderella’s midnight clock strike, and Jack will return from dinner with his mother still painfully perfect, and still painfully straight, and still so, so far out of Bitty’s reach.

Jack backs up towards the door, eyes lingering on Bitty as his hands drift down Bitty’s arms. “I’ll be back,” he repeats, although Bitty’s not any more convinced, and then he takes his hands away and fumbles blindly for the doorknob, slips out into the hallway from whence he came.

Bitty hears his breaths shallow into nothing more than gasps of air, and promptly crumples backwards onto his chair.

Bitty spends the entire time Jack is absent slowly going out of his mind.

Once the shock passes and the fogginess clouding his thoughts clears, all he can do is think: think about Jack kissing him, and the lovely shape of his mouth, and the bewitched look on his face; wonder how the hell it happened, and why, and what it even means. He conjures a dozen, a hundred versions of what transpired to bring Jack to his door, and even more of what would happen if he does indeed come back.

Bitty paces back and forth across his room, unable to focus or hold onto any one scenario for more than a few seconds. His heart beats so fast for so long that it develops into nausea; he continues pacing while clutching his stomach and praying that he won’t throw up, because he doesn’t think he’d survive that kind of embarrassing memory.

Shitty and Lardo come back at some point, stoned and bearing three bags of sour worms. They squint at his messy room but don't comment on the condition of his hair or his shaky limbs, kindly offer him some sour worms and the opportunity for contact-high in Shitty’s room. They back off and close the door as soon as they see the look on his face. Bitty runs his hand through his hair one more time when he tries to imagine what his face must look like to successfully scare them away.

A long while later there are footsteps in the hallway outside his door. Bitty braces himself to tell Holster or Ransom or, god, Chowder that he’s busy right now. He tries to remind himself that he loves them even when he's in a state, and sits down on the bed to tell them that he isn’t feeling well -- except then the door opens, and it’s Jack standing in the doorway.

Bitty’s heart jumps, somersaults, and plummets all in the space of one millisecond, as he stands up abruptly from the bed and stares, openmouthed.

Jack doesn’t look as rumpled as he did earlier. His collar is adjusted neatly and the tails of his shirt are tucked and smoothed into his pants, but his face is a rich shade of pink and he’s clenching and unclenching his fists by his side. He seems so awkward, standing there, that Bitty’s continuous state of panic morphs into a different chaotic mess of confusion and affection, all while Jack does nothing but stare at him.

“How was dinner?” Bitty squeaks out, eventually, when it’s clear that Jack’s not going to speak anytime soon.

Jack looks like Bitty has veered off script unexpectedly. His eyes widen and he clenches his fists and then releases them again, compulsively. “Eh -- good, good.” Bitty nods. There’s a long stretch of silence neither of them fills. Jack inhales and says, right when Bitty is sure that his heart is sincerely going to beat out of his darn chest, “I. Bittle. About earlier.”

The color in his face deepens further but Bitty can’t tell what that means, if he’s already regretting what he’s done or if he’s just tripping over his own emotions like Bitty is. “You should -- the door,” he stutters, because whether he’s going to be kissed again or be let down gently, he’d rather do it without an audience. Jack looks at him like he spoke in a cryptic foreign language, so Bitty forces out, blushing to the roots of his hair, “Come in and shut the door, Zimmermann.”

“Oh -- shit, ouais,” Jack jostles into action, stepping away from the threshold and kicking the door shut after him. It’s the first time Bitty has seen him move with anything other than practiced poise.

Bitty’s room isn’t very large, and with the door closed the atmosphere in it quickly shifts. There’s an inherent intimacy in the short gap between their bodies that heightens in a small, enclosed space, and Bitty can feel his body heat rise and spread to his palms and his face as a result of it.

It’s unsettling, and Bitty suspects that he could grow to crave it, but not as long as he has no idea what is going on. “Jack --”

Jack interrupts him, keeping his eyes on the floor. “Wait, Bittle, listen. I -- it’s really important that you know that you shouldn't feel obligated.”

There are maybe a hundred thousand things that could’ve come out of Jack’s mouth after Bittle, listen, and Bitty spent two and a half hours imagining a good deal of them. Telling Bitty that he shouldn’t feel obligated is so perplexing that Bitty’s too wrongfooted to protest, and Jack carries on speaking. “I know as team captain I have a certain amount of authority and I didn’t even -- think about that, before, which is really wrong --”

Bitty squints, slowly gaining a renewed grasp on this bizarre situation. The only thing he manages to think with clarity, through the storm brewing in his chest, is, You doofus, what on earth are you talking about. “Jack. The season is over."

"Right," Jack shoves his hands in his pockets, squares his shoulders. "But -- still. Technically we kept up with a.m. practices even after the playoffs, so."

Because you are an insane person, Bitty thinks to himself, coming to terms with the fact that the tone of his thoughts is on a scale ranging between neurotic and cloyingly smitten. He opens his mouth, not sure what’s going to come out of it, but Jack keeps talking without pause.

"Anyway, the NCAA allows intra-team dating but doesn't say anything about involvement with captains. I checked."

This bowls Bitty over, a new wave of warmth rushing to his cheeks. "You checked?"

There's a sheen of what can only be nervous sweat above Jack's upper lip that shines under the glaring ceiling light. “It’s only thirty pages.”

Bitty feels lightheaded again, as he allows himself to consider for the first time that evening, with some measure of possibility, that Jack Zimmermann in fact came into his room and kissed the right sense out of him with the intention to date him. It’s almost too much to consider, making him weak at the knees. He grabs the edge of his desk to be on the safe side.

“You -- I -- dear god, what is even happening? What brought this on?” Because they’ve been spending -- well, they’ve spent almost every waking moment together this semester, excluding this odd week since the damned Swallow article. Jack had plenty of opportunity to confess his feelings had he possessed any, and the best time certainly wasn’t while his mother was waiting for him downstairs to go to a formal dinner.

“Well, I,” Jack stammers, dropping his chin to his chest. His ears are bright red, dark enough to be seen from a few feet away, and Bitty is enchanted by it. “I didn’t know, but. I read the stupid thing in the car because I couldn’t -- my mom said -- I kept thinking about you in every kitchen that we looked at, and I…”

Bitty can feel his eyes widen, his organs flipping over inside him. "You… did?"

Jack lifts his head, and when the two of them finally make eye contact it zings through Bitty’s body. "Yes. I mean, I guess it’s hard not to. If you're not on ice, you're baking, Bittle. Or tweeting. Or baking and tweeting."

He winces as soon the words are out of his mouth, and Bitty can’t help it: he bursts out in laughter, high-pitched and giddy. This boy, Bitty marvels, and euphoria spreads like thick cotton candy in his chest, making it hard to speak; to breathe.

Jack’s face still looks vaguely horrified, like he’s regretting ever opening his mouth. "Crisse, sorry, it's not -- I wasn't trying to --" he blows out air, starting over. "It's fine that you do. I mean, more than fine. I thought about you in the kitchens because I like it. I like you."

His voice is unmistakably uncomfortable, and beads of sweat are glinting on his temples. Bitty’s so overwhelmed by hearing Jack speak candidly about his feelings that he blurts out the first thing that comes to his mind. "You like me? But you're -- I mean, I thought you --"

Jack’s eyebrows draw down and his mouth thins. He looks irritated, but Bitty knows it’s the shape his face takes when he’s distressed. "I know last year it didn't seem like -- but I thought this year you knew things changed --"

"-- were straight," Bitty exhales, chest heaving. God. This is real. "I thought… you were straight."

Jack squints, stopping himself in the middle of his sentence. He seems honestly, genuinely confused, the big lug. With a more functioning part of his mind Bitty recognizes that this is probably the most facial expressions he’s seen Jack make since meeting him.

"But I kissed you."

"Yeah," Bitty swallows, cheeks probably glowing bright red. Somehow it’s so much more jarring hearing the words out loud than it was to have Jack’s mouth on his. Like something that’s not supposed to be discussed out in the open. A secret lifted right out of Bitty's subconscious, manifested by sheer will. "Uh. Sure did. Thus my confusion."

"Your -- confusion…?" Jack trails off. His flushed face begins shifting by degrees, a smile spreading slowly but steadily and creating the smallest, sweetest crinkle at his eyes. He wipes his shiny brow with the back of one forearm and then crosses the distance between them in a few short strides, sweeping in to kiss Bitty.

It’s not any less mind-blowing the second time around. Jack's fingers slot under Bitty's jaw, titling his head up, his other palm sliding from Bitty’s neck to his shoulder and down his back in a tantalizing stroke. Bitty grows hot all over, bending his body into Jack's to press their chests together, his hands hesitatingly finding their way to Jack's hips. He hooks them over the sharp curves of Jack's hip bones, feels the strength in Jack’s obliques through his clothes.

Their mouths create a soft slick sound when they glide against one another, lips meeting and parting smoothly. Bitty gathers the confidence to attempt parting his own lips, applies the slightest pressure of tongue to Jack's bottom lip, and is rewarded by Jack's shudder and the tightening of his hand on the small of Bitty's back.

Jack pulls his face back slowly enough for Bitty to blink his eyelashes open and catch Jack licking his lips, exhaling shakily.

"I like you, Bitty," Jack leans their foreheads together. His eyes are staring right into Bitty’s, drooping and soft and so clearly fond that Bitty feels the tremor flow in his body all the way to his toes.

"Me too," Bitty whispers. His heart is still beating irregularly, vainly trying to catch up with the emotional upheaval of the last few minutes. “Jack --. I like you, too.”

Jack smiles at him, and it’s more honest, more tender than Bitty's ever seen it. It makes Bitty so happy that he wants to burst into giggles, wants to hide his beam in Jack's chest until butterflies stop fluttering in his ribcage.

Jack runs his fingers into Bitty's hair, gently brushes through it. He's bashful, both of them avoiding prolonged eye contact, and it's so absurd that they're shy after kissing like that, but Bitty can't help it. Jack tips his head to kiss Bitty's chin, his temple, makes Bitty actually giggle when he kisses his ear and then settles his lips in Bitty's hair, tugging him closer into the crooks of Jack's body.

"Hey, Jack?" Bitty says quietly, leaning his cheek on the curve of Jack's shoulder and wrapping his arms around Jack's waist, hands linking at the arch of his spine.

"Yeah?" Jack mumbles into Bitty's hair, mouth moving against the crown of his head.

Bitty presses his lips briefly to the closest patch of Jack's skin he can reach, which is the dip in his clavicle. It's barely a kiss, but his entire body shivers with the knowledge that he’s allowed. "Wanna be my date to Spring C tomorrow?"

Jack draws back far enough to be able to look down, tilting his chin into his neck and catching Bitty's eyes with his. His face is pink and his lips are swollen and Bitty's so unbelievably in love with him, but it's the furthest thing from pathetic now. It seems funny that it was ever something shameful at all.

"It'd be my pleasure," Jack smiles, and leans in for another kiss.

#omgcp #zimbits #zimbits fic #omgcheckplease #pavfics #ooof. finally done. i'm sure i'll edit again in the morning BUT

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dreadnought-dear-captain · 4 years ago

Text

The End of the Line – Update and You Asked, I Told (Part 1 of 2)

Hi, friends! I have completed my move and gotten settled in to my new apartment and state and job, so I’m back here to answer some Asks and give a writing update.

In the past couple of months, I’ve somehow managed to crank out about 45,000 words of BW. All the way to the end. Yep. BW is DONE. I literally cannot believe it. It needs some quality time with the beta, and I want to catch up on answering comments, so I’m (tentatively) planning to post the rest of the chapters on Veterans Day, 11/11/2020. I remember commenting to someone that I would have the whole fic done by Veterans day 2018 but hahahahahahaha [sob]. As of right now, I believe it’s going to be three more chapters, and you can decide if you want to binge them or draw it out. I’m also planning to do a select list of works consulted, but I will probably attach that to the BW timeline when I get it done rather than tack it onto the end of BW.

I’ve also started outlining a new fic that I’m excited about. It’s a BuckyCap canon divergence story that’s been percolating in my mind for a few years and has done about 400 evolutions. I was planning to move on to an AIDS fic, but that would require so, so much research, and honestly, I’m researched out after BW. I need a break. But there will be some similar themes, so if you’re here for more emoshy angst, there’s more coming your way. In first person!

I’ve cleaned out my Tumblr inbox and am posting my Ask answers in two batches. I’m feeling less quarantined out and consumed with my move, so I’m going to continue working toward being more responsive more quickly. Moving forward, I might just answer the asks as they come up rather than batching them. I dunno.

The following contain spoilers for everything up to the latest chapter of BW.

Starting with some love (thank you!) and progressing to questions.

Oh, thank you so much! I’m thrilled that you’re enjoying it alkfjalfjsakjf!

Thank you so much! It’s something I’m seriously considering, actually. Although I could never publish BW the way it is (it’s far, far, FAR too long for any publisher to pick up as-is), I am planning to go through the manuscript after this and re-write the essential story in hopes of de-Marveling it and shopping it around. I’ve been playing around with the idea of even trying first person, since the character voices are so strong, but I love close third a lot too, so I’ll have to play around with it.

I appreciate your patience, and I’m so happy that you’re into it enough to wait so long for the damn thing to come out!

I’ve written a lot of layers into the story in hopes that it will have decent re-read value – for those brave enough to read a 700k word fic more than once. But honestly, it’s so complicated sometimes that even I lose track of all the things I’ve woven in throughout. Part of it is that it’s a very different animal from where I started, both in terms of story and style, and I had some places I planned to go but then diverted, so there may be artifacts of old ideas floating around, I’m sure!

You’re so right that the avoidance response is unbelievably strong for them, and part of their relationship goals (in my mind, anyway) is for them to be more direct in expressing what’s going on with them and what they need. As for the photo album, I can totally imagine this playing out – a nice family get together, some familial razzing, a highly triggered person trying to keep his shit together, but it’s Bucky, and emotion regulation is still not a very strong suit for him. So, presto. Awful picture night shenanigans.

As for Steve and his judgement call here, I agree that it’s definitely not the best. But I kind of wanted to show him as also being a vulnerable person who is struggling with this and wants relief from it. I think it’s more typical in fic to have one person is traumatized and the other who is this unwavering, grounded rock that is relatively unaffected by their loved one’s trauma and can provide appropriate support. Which is great! People like this absolutely exist. But this stuff with Bucky has really fucked Steve up, too, in addition to having his own trauma. He’s also feeling very distant from Bucky now, and one of the ways that they have historically gotten close is to have sex. It’s their go-to coping strategy as a couple. Don’t talk, fuck. So I thought it made sense that, on this night of vulnerability, they might resort to that.

(See Baghdad Waltz Timeline ) Yeah, he was twelve, which is right before his family moved to New York. I’ve been sprinkling the episode around many chapters and don’t plan to go into a whole lot more detail about it TBH. It’s not essential to know all of the details, I don’t think. However, more will be revealed about Bucky and Jack’s relationship and how Bucky feels about him/felt about him, so hopefully that can provide a little context for it. Bucky has a lot of conflicting feelings about Jack and what happened to him, so we are forced to look at it through the eyes of a highly unreliable narrator. I hope future chapters (or chapters after this Ask was sent), will shed a little light on this.

You’re spot on that Bucky totally minimizes it. Especially with Steve, knowing that Steve both needs to roughly know and probably will lose his mind if he knows the whole story. It was a brutal beating with some significant injuries that needed extra medical attention. As a side note, Bucky undoubtedly lied about having any surgeries, etc. in order to get into the Army.

Thank you so much! I’m fully aware how emotionally exhausting this story can be, and I’m never quite sure whether or not to be apologetic about it. I’m not aiming to sensationalize anything or manipulate feelings out of readers or characters, truly. My guiding star is asking, okay, given everything, what would happen next? Not necessarily what *I* want to happen next, but what would these characters do now? Certainly I throw some circumstances in their way, but a lot of the emotional and relational responses to these are me trying to unflinchingly show what would happen with these two particular people with these two particular psychologies and histories.

As we can see, for as much as they love each other, this relationship is highly problematic. And these people are really struggling individually. I do try to show the good parts too, to balance things out, because I don’t want to shy away from those either. I’m always hopeful that the balance doesn’t become so out of whack that people nope out of the story.

Oh my God, I know. I think about that sometimes as well. Bucky was a highly skilled military professional, though I do wonder if this is one of the only environments that would have allowed him to avoid his own trauma quite this well. The military is such an all-encompassing career, one where, especially at higher ranks, you work ALL. THE. TIME. When you’re working all the time, when everything is about the men, about these extremely intense deployment experiences, there’s very little room for the past to creep in. It’s the perfect avoidance strategy.

Moreover, the highly rigorous structure was excellent for Bucky, who tends to spiral out if he’s not operating within very firm boundaries. A lot of people with emotion regulation problems like Bucky’s can do very well in the military because of this. But when he lost that, so violently, it was the perfect catalyst for everything to come careening back to him. Especially when he really toned down the drinking. This is life for a lot of veterans, though certainly not all, or even most. But Bucky’s relationship with the military was absolutely symbiotic, yes. It is sad.

This is one of Bucky’s attempts to earn favor with his new friends in New York, so good catch on the lie. Someone with an affectionate nickname obviously must have been liked, right? The last thing he wanted to do was have a repeat of his experience in Kentucky, so he put on a very good show and bullshat his way into a good social situation in New York. It’s not really bullshit though, because he’s a likable person. But I imagine he assessed the way he was, quiet, thoughtful, sweet, and probably decided nope, I’m not gonna be those things here. Not again. Some of the stuff, like his thoughtfulness and sweetness, couldn’t really be suppressed. But he did a lot of impression management in New York, including the creation of this nickname for himself.

Now, on to Part Two! See you there.

#YOU ASKED I TOLD #asks #send me asks #baghdad waltz

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inevitably-johnlocked · 5 years ago

Note

do you have a list of podfic recs? i listen to a lot of @podfixx but she just has so many it’s hard for me to narrow down what to listen to sometimes. i’d love to give other podfic creators a chance too!

Hi Nonny!!

AHHHH Okay so I am a loser and don’t listen to podfics even though I know I would enjoy it for long road trips, but AHHH I don’t I’m so sorry, so I don’t have any PERSONAL recs, so the BEST I can do is give you a list of fics that I know have Podfics for them, since as I go through my bookmarks and update them, I’ve been adding podfic links to them because I like having my lists be as thorough as possible, so this will ALSO give me a chance for authors who know they have podfics of their stories can add them to my recs and I can add them to my offline list LOL

PODFICS

BOOKMARKED FICS

To the Nines by suitesamba (M, 2,724 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Magical Realism, Pining, Angst, John Whump, Time Travel, Fortunes, Time Jumps) – John skips forward in time, and Sherlock reads the signs that point to nine. John knows he’ll eventually be with Sherlock, but the waiting is nearly impossible, and his body is a lot more than transport. A foray into magical realism where all the canon events occur, and a hell of a lot more.

Time on my hands by Mildredandbobbin (M, 7,179 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post S3, One Night Stands, Mutual Pining, Virgin Sherlock, First Time, Sexual Exploration / Discovery) – Virginity’s a construct, a concept—what does losing one’s virginity entail for a gay man anyway? Sherlock wants to fill that particular gap in his knowledge but John won’t, can’t, never will assist and there’s only so much desperately unspoken pining even Sherlock can take.

Software Malfunction by tiger_in_the_flightdeck (E, 16,679 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Android Sherlock, Love Story, Unhappy Ending, Angst, Suicide, Jealousy) – “You think I can’t love you? Just because you’re made with metal, and detailed programming?” The doctor propped himself on his elbow, and looked down at it. “I am nothing but blood and bone, and tissue. Things just managed get mashed together in a manner that made me like this. Just like you were put together to make you how you are. When I kiss you-” he did so, briefly, to prove his point. Then more deeply, and lingering, because he could. “When I touch you, or smile at you, does it make you feel different from when others have done it in the past?”

Corpus Hominis by mycapeisplaid (E, 47,709 w., 12 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Case Fic, Fluff, Romance, Frottage, Angst, Anal, Blow Jobs, Rimming, Spas / Massages, Shampoo, Jealousy) - John knows the human body intimately. He’s had plenty of opportunity for study as a doctor, soldier, and lover. There’s one particular body, however, he knows very little about. When Sherlock launches himself head-first into a new obsession and they get sent on a case in an unlikely location, the pair discovers each other’s bodies with confusing yet delightful (and sometimes hilarious) results.

Points by lifeonmars (E, 53,791 w., 42 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || HLV Rewrite / Canon Divergence, Married Life, Pregnancy / Baby Watson, Drinking to Cope, Boxing / Fisticuffs, Clueless John, Angst, Minor Medical Drama, Tattoos, Christmas, First Kiss/Time, Eventual Happy Ending, Love Confessions, Doctor John, Sexuality Crisis, Slow Burn, Case Fic, Drugging, Blow/Hand Job, Emotional Love Making, Parenthood, Passage of Time) – What if His Last Vow never happened? This fic picks up a few months after John and Mary’s wedding, in an alternate universe where Magnussen doesn’t exist, but Mary is still pregnant. Life continues – just in a different direction. And slowly, Sherlock and John find their way to each other.

Albion and the Woodsman by Glenmore (NR [E], 54,437 w., 50 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post S3, Parentlock, Pining Sherlock, Angst, Family, Drug Use, Depression, Sherlock POV, Light Humour, Reconnecting, Declarations of Love) – Sherlock and John are devastated after Mary Morstan makes her final moves. Sherlock relapses at the crack house, John walks around the world … and a lot happens in between. Parentlock, in the good way.

The Vapor Variant by 88thParallel (CanadaHolm) (M, 72,684 w., 18 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-THoB, John Whump, Protective Sherlock, Guilty Sherlock, Anxious/Worried Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD John, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Suspense, Virus, Sickfic, Big Brother Mycroft) – They stood face to face in the middle of a clearing. The dim light of the moon barely allowed Sherlock to see the glassy terror in John’s eyes and the sweat that glistened off his forehead. His nose was bleeding again, blood dripping in a slow stream from his right nostril. They were both gasping for air, John’s eyes locked on Sherlock’s. There was no recognition there, just wild animal fear. Time stood still for an eternal few seconds, and Sherlock took a shaky breath. “John—”Spell broken, John spun and bolted back into the woods. Still heaving for air, Sherlock took off after him.

The Heart In The Whole by verityburns (E, 101,650 w., 21 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-TGG Canon Divergence, Drama & Angst, H/C, First Time, Blind Sherlock) – Events after ‘The Great Game’ leave Sherlock dependent on his best friend and colleague. But John has a secret of his own…

The Wedding Garments by cwb (E, 105,390 w., 36 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Alternate Future AU || Alternate First Meeting, Dating / Arranged Marriages, Romance, First Kiss/Time, Heavy Petting, Cuddles, POV Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn / Falling in Love / Dev. Rel., Nervous/Anxious Sherlock, Jealous/Cranky, Hiking, Vacation Homes / Honeymoon, Sherlock’s Family, Horny John/Sherlock, Patient John, Massages, Hand Jobs, Assassination Plots, Hand Jobs / Oral Sex, Case Fic, Emotional Love Making, Bath Time Fun) – This is the story of a young consulting detective who wants nothing to do with marriage and an army doctor who wants to find true love. It’s 2020 post-Brexit England and the British government is encouraging arranged marriages. Candidates meet through state-run agencies and date in hopes of finding love (and tax benefits). Sherlock doesn’t need or want a spouse, at least not until John Watson shows up. Hesitant to give in to his more carnal urges because of the way they derail his mind, how will Sherlock progress toward the more intimate aspects of a relationship? The answer lies in a very special wedding gift.

Shatter the Darkness (Let the Light In) by MojoFlower (E, 109,683 w., 23 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Genie/Djinn AU || Magical Realism, Kidnapping, Genie Sherlock, First Kiss / Time, Case Fic, H/C, Angst, Clubs, John Whump, Mild DubCon, Hand / Blow Jobs, Torture) – Fairy tales are for those who remember how to dream; not John Watson, broken and hiding from his bleak future in a beige bedsit. But then he discovers a lamp and finds himself in the dangerous riptide of an enigmatic man whose very existence is unbelievable, murder charges against his sister, and the growing pains of feeling alive once more.

The Bang and the Clatter by earlgreytea68 (M, 137,049 w. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Baseball AU || Slow Burn / Dev. Rel., Possessive/Obsessive Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock, Mutual Pining, Body Appreciation, Depression, Closeted Sexuality, Family, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Ogling Each Other, Anxious Sherlock, Panic Attack, Drunkenness, Talk of Forever, Big Feelings™) – Sherlock Holmes is a pitcher and John Watson is a catcher. No, no, no, it’s a baseball AU. Part 1 of Baseball

Performance In a Leading Role by Mad_Lori (E, 156,714 w., 21 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Hollywood / Actor AU, Secret Relationship, Falling in Love, Slow Burn, Romance, Coming Out, Fluff and Angst, Pining) – Sherlock Holmes is an Oscar winner in the midst of a career slump. John Watson is an Everyman actor trapped in the rom-com ghetto. When they are cast as a gay couple in a new independent drama, will they surprise each other? Will their on-screen romance make its way into the real world? Part 1 of Performance in a Leading Role

Gimme Shelter by SinceWhenDoYouCallMe_John (E, 159,368 w., 21 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || 70′s Surfer AU || Period Typical Homophobia, Hawaii, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Professional Surfers, Gay John / Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, John was a Sailor, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining) – All John Watson wants is the feeling of a freshly waxed surfboard under his feet and the hot California sun baking down onto his back. To finally go pro in the newly formed world of professional surfing and leave the dark memories of his past behind him as he rips across the face of a towering blue barrel. To lounge beside the beach bonfire every evening with an ice cold beer tucked into the cool sand beside him and listen to Pink Floyd and the Doors while the saltwater dries in his sun bleached hair. That’s all he wants, that is, until the hot young phenom taking Oahu and the Hawaiian shores by storm steps up next to him in the sand in the second round of the 1976 International Surf Competition. (PUBLISHED AS ‘The Sea Ain’t Mine Alone’)

Proving A Point by elldotsee & J_Baillier (E, 186,270 w., 28 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Me Before You Fusion || Medical Realism, Insecure John, Depression, Romance, Angst, POV John, Sherlock Whump, Serious Illness, Doctor John, Injury Recovery, Assisted Suicide, Sherlock’s Violin, Awkward Sexual Situations, Alcoholism, Drugs, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Body Image, Friends to Lovers, Hurt / Comfort, Pain, Big Brother Mycroft, Intimacy, Anxiety, PTSD, Family Issues, Psychological Trauma, John Whump, Case Fics, Loneliness, Pain) – Invalided home from Afghanistan, running out of funds and convinced that his surgical career is over, John Watson accepts a mysterious job offer to provide care and companionship for a disabled person. Little does he know how much hangs in the balance of his performance as he settles into his new life at Musgrave Court.

“TO READ” FICS

Curlock by 88thParallel (G, 1,285 w. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Sherlock’s Hair, Fluff, Ficlet) – How Sherlock learned to control and appreciate the incredible gift he was born with, and the man who helped him sort it out.

Letters, the Writing of by earlgreytea68 (G, 2,416 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-TRF/Hiatus) – While he’s dead, Sherlock writes John letters. Part 1 of the Letters series

Let’s Say I Let You In by kedgeree (E, 9,972 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Halloween, Costume Kink, Est. Rel., Humour, Smut, Vampire Sherlock, Bloodplay, Biting, Romance) – It’s Halloween and Sherlock’s vampire costume is turning John on, but Sherlock doesn’t quite get the idea of a sexy vampire. At least…not at first. Part 4 of the Holidays series

Almost Home by Berty (E, 13,871 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Alternate First Meeting, Captain John, Pining John, University Student Sherlock, Gay Bar, First Time, Anal, Mutual Masturbation, Protective Big Brother Mycroft, POV John, Time Skips, Memories, Angst With Happy Ending) – He pulls out the ID card – the one that Sherlock had somehow seen when he was buying drinks at that awful club. He’s had other ID cards since then but he’s hung on to this one for some reason. He looks at the image of his face, young and pale and idealistic, and he knows that just a month later that man would have found and lost the love of his life within a week, and even knowing that, John wouldn’t change a single thing.

Heart on a String by AngelSpirit (E, 23,257 w. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Alternate First Meeting, First Kiss / Time, Infidelity, Angst, Fluff, Kidlock/Teenlock, Mentions of Recreational Drug Use) – John and Sherlock got married with Cracker Jack rings when they were 7 yrs old. It wasn’t official, but for their whole lives they took it very seriously.

Common Tongues: Unassuming Brilliance by jinglebell (E, 41,174 w., 11 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Anal, Rimming, Snowballing, Language Kink, Blow Jobs, BAMF John, Size Difference, Height Difference, Sapiosexual Sherlock, Barebacking, Size Queen) – John may be predictably average in most things, but there are a handful of areas in which he knows he is uncommonly skilled. He can make a great cup of tea, for one. He’s also good at patching folks up, putting bullets precisely where he wants them, and listening.The one skill that John is perhaps most exceptional in, though, is language. John is a polyglot.

Against the Rest of the World by SilentAuror (E, 43,936 w. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || POV First Person Sherlock, Present Tense, First Time, Post-TRF) – Sherlock has been away from London for nine hundred and twelve days and counting, and has no idea what sort of reception to expect when he finally returns. Post-Reichenbach.

Command Structure by 221b_hound (E, 49,034 w., 16 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post TRF / Not S3 Compliant, Dom/Sub Play, Dom John/Sub Sherlock, Oral/Anal, Anal Fingering, Frottage, Past Child Abuse, Anxiety Attacks, Captain Watson, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Protective John, Slow Build, PTSD Sherlock, Consensual, Past Dub Con, Rimming) – Sherlock Holmes returns from his hunt to destroy Moriarty’s network. He comes home to John, and at long last they start this thing between them that couldn’t begin while Moriarty threatened them. But Sherlock has returned fractured and suffering anxiety attacks. He thinks he needs discipline - the whip - to help him focus and be strong. But his problems are deeper and run back to a childhood of neglect. John Watson is prepared to be Sherlock’s Captain, but he’s a doctor too. His command style isn’t about pain and subjugation. It’s about care and responsibility: and those concepts go in both directions in Captain Watson’s command structure.

Saccharomyces cerevisiae (Baker’s Yeast) by yaycoffee (E, 60,879 w., 13 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Unplanned Pregnancy / One Night Stand, Drunken Sex, First Kiss/Time, Bit of Case Fic, Sally/Sherlock Drunk Sex First Ch.) – Sometimes, one makes an imprudent decision born of a devastating combination of drink and sentiment. Sometimes, the consequences of that decision take on a life of their own. And sometimes, the facing of those consequences shapes every aspect of one’s life–from the hugely meaningful down to the seemingly insignificant. Part 1 of the Knows His Own series

Perpetual Motion by Fay (orphan_account) (E, 75,789 w., 31 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Romance, Unconventional Relationship, Renegotiation of Boundaries, Virgin Sherlock, Changing Sexuality, Masturbation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Exhibitionism/Voyeurism, Sex Toys, Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Humour, Grieving, Light Bondage, First Kiss / Time, Hand Jobs, Quarrels, Shower Sex, Pillow Humping/Frottage, Oral Sex, Slight Self-Harm, Chastity Device) – Everyone thinks that they’re a couple, but Sherlock’s self-sexual and John’s straight, so they’re never going to fall in love, are they? Even if neither of them can imagine life without the other.

The Blog of Eugenia Watson by Mad_Lori (G, 95,026 w. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || OC POV, Parentlock, Teenagers, Diary / Blogging / Journal, Family, Humour) – I like to think of this not so much as a blog but as the first draft of my inevitably best-selling memoirs. My Life In an Unconventional Family. How unconventional? Well, I live with my divorced parents and my dad’s husband. How’s that for starters? Trust me, it gets weirder.My name is Eugenia Watson, but you can call me Genie. I’m sixteen. This is my life. Note: Work is marked complete for now and is on hiatus, having reached a convenient stopping point. Additional chapters may be added in the future.

Northwest Passage by Kryptaria (E, 95,157 w., 27 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Canadian AU || BAMF!John, Canadian John, PTSD, Anal / Oral Sex, Rimming, Emotional Hurt / Comfort) – Seven years ago, Captain John Watson of the Canadian Forces Medical Service withdrew from society, seeking a simple, isolated life in the distant northern wilderness of Canada. Though he survives from one day to the next, he doesn’t truly live until someone from his dark past calls in a favor and turns his world upside-down with the introduction of Sherlock Holmes.” Part 1 of Tales from the Northwest

Drift Compatible by J_Baillier (E, 130.380 w., 26 Ch. || Pacific Rim Fusion || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Alternate First Meeting, Angst, Family Drama, Accidental Telepathic Voyeurism, Martial Arts, Sci-Fi, Internalised Homophobia, Rubbish Siblings, Army Doctor John, Medical H/C, Bullying, Neurodiversity, PTSD, Drug Use, Depression, Mourning, Adventure, Hurt/Comfort, UST/URT) – A washed out war hero struggling with his past. A prodigy who wants nothing to do with his family legacy. Both are looking for something—and someone—worth fighting for in a world where human civilisation is constantly under threat.

Nature and Nurture by earlgreytea68 (M, 203,273 w., 57 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Parentlock, Cloning, Kidlock, Dev. Rel.) – The British Government accidentally clones Sherlock Holmes. Which brings a baby to 221B Baker Street. Part 1 of Nature & Nurture

Radioactive Trees In A Red Forest by Maribor_Petrichor (E, 280,251 w., 73 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-S4, Suicidal Ideations, Alcohol / Rx Drug Abuse, Coming Out / Bisexual John, Seizures, Past/Referenced/Implied Child Abuse, Hallucinations, Rehab, Celibacy, Sobriety / Relapse, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Grief/Mourning, Psychological Trauma, Nice /Not Anti-Mary, John’s POV, Parentlock, First Time, Angst, Switchlock, Angst with Happy Ending) – John Watson is what happens when a man can no longer see a reason to go on. John Watson is what happens when a man starts to let go. “It is what it is.” John Watson is what happens when what “it is” becomes too much to bear. This is a story of the life, death, and resurrection of John Hamish Watson.

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #podfics #my fic recs #Anonymous #fic rec sunday

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hallie-fics · 5 years ago

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author spotlight - smc_27

When they’re grabbing her handcuffs behind her back, pulling her back towards the car, she turns her head and finds Harry’s eyes. He looks scared, and she almost calls him a coward, but knows he’s very well aware that he is one. He just is.She won’t look away from him. He needs to know, too, that he did this. He did this.Maybe the only thing that’s real between them is the fact that he could do something about it and doesn’t. Maybe that’s all there is.

Everything’s Blurry But You @livinginrhythm

This author is easily one of my favorites for this fandom. Their dialogue and how they write the hallie dynamic is pretty much unparalleled. I always know that a story is going to be good when I see that they wrote it.

q & a

Favorite of your stories (and why)

So far (for this pairing) I really like Words Are Too Hard To Keep On Their Own. Those who know me from other fandoms know I’m an angst-fiend, but for this pairing I’m really drawn to the idea of an easiness between them. I really thought (and think) that AUs are sort of the only way to make that happen without making everyone out of character. I also just love Portland, so it was fun to think about them in that city. I also tend to be really into imagining what characters will be like once they’re through their ‘asshole’ phase.

Easiest story to write

Definitely the NYE story (By The Coast When I Held your Hand). Not only because it’s short, but because I had a pretty clear idea of the beginning and the ending, and filling in the blanks was simple enough. I have a Very Bad Habit of writing incredibly long stories; even my ‘drabbles’ are thousands of words. This one, though, was done in a couple hours. (I have also started a followup to it, so you may see that eventually…)

Hardest story to write

A post-S1 WIP that was literally the second thing I started writing for this pairing! It’s 15k words currently and I’m really struggling to wrap it up. Probably because so much time has passed between when I started it, and now. I’m really hoping to finish it very soon and post it.

Pre-writing process (if any)

Usually it goes like this: Get an inkling of an idea, or line of dialogue in my head, flail about it to friends. Say that I shouldn’t start a new thing when I have WIPs that could use attention. Start anyway. I’m not a big outliner (though I know that would likely be more productive!). I usually just sit down and start writing and see what happens.

When I used to write multi-chapter stories, I would never post the first chapter until I was completely done writing the story. This was for a few reasons, the most important of which being that in the beginning, I found the pressure to update and suggestions from readers really threw me off and were sort of demotivating.

I also read/edit everything twice before posting, and then read again once it’s posted and usually have to go back and fix little things I didn’t catch the first time. I’ve never really used a beta, or anything, though I definitely share WIPs with friends who read them and help encourage me!

Hopes for season 2

Honestly, I have a few different things I’d love to see happen, and I say them all with pretty much no hope they’ll be true to what happens on screen.

One, I think it would be sooo interesting if S2 showed us an alternate universe in which everything is normal. They never went to New Ham, and are just typical high school students with typical high school drama. I want to see how Harry and Kelly break up, how Allie and Will interact, how/if Sam and Grizz get together. And ultimately, I still want Harry and Allie to hook up, and then to see what happens afterward in a world where nothing is as messed up as New Ham.

Two, I want there to be a focus on getting Campbell the eff out of the way, by whatever means necessary. I of course want Allie to have a hand in that. I’m really interested to see how they handle her ‘arrest’. (This is, mostly, what prompted me to start my post-S1 fic, and I’ve explored that a lot.)

Three, Harry Bingham redemption arc! Writers can feel free to slot this into any and all storylines/ideas for S2.

Favorite line (or lines) that you’ve written for a hallie fic/ a section that you’re really proud of.

I really like this, from you play stupid games, you win stupid prizes: She feels the deep breaths he takes - three in a row, like some kind of coping mechanism. It’s what her mom always used to tell her to do, when she’d be mad at Cassandra for taking all the attention. Even now, she’s got to wonder why she was always the one who had to do something about it, and why Cassandra was never asked to change anything about herself. It’s not the time to think of that. It’s never the time to think of that.

I also love the whole bit in Everything’s Blurry But You when they’re outside alone on the terrace at the wedding and Harry tells her, “Trust me. I know what being in love with you looks like.”

What type of Hallie stories do you like to write/read? (canon divergence, modern au, soulmate au, etc)

Any and all, thank you. As long as it’s well-written, I can get into it.

How long have you been writing for?

I’ve been writing fanfic for over 10 years now.

How has your writing style evolved over time?

I used to write a lot of multi-chapter stories with long, winding plots. Now I stick mostly to oneshots or what ends up being two or three part stories with really long chapters. I also revisit old fic sometimes and cringe; I’ve gotten much more comfortable writing dialogue that feels believable.

Do you ever worry about how your stories are received?

Who doesn’t!?

What’s the hardest part of writing for you?

Just...doing it. Finding the time and then also being inspired/focused when the time is available. I also tend to write better late at night, but do require a regular sleep schedule and have a 9-5ish, so staying up super late isn’t the best idea for me!

Do you get writers block and if so how do you deal with it?

Of course - I think everyone does at some point or another. Honestly, I try to be gentle with myself and not force it. I can feel it in my writing when things aren’t flowing as well. The actual stories feel clunky and slow. I also find it helps to read other peoples’ work or watch really good shows/content to get inspired or take a break from trying to make words happen. Sometimes I’ll ask friends for prompts to help me get into a flow, which feels like less pressure than diving back into a WIP.

Favorite Hallie headcanon?

That they had all these little interactions pre-New Ham. We know they weren’t strangers, so I just love to think about the ways they’d interact before. Conversations they may have had, looks they shared, and if I’m being honest, all the times Harry would’ve flirted with Allie. I feel like he would’ve done it just to annoy Cassandra, and I am here for it.

This is definitely one of my favorite author spotlights. I love @livinginrhythm‘s hopes for season two, and I can’t wait for any more potential stories by them! Thanks again for taking the time to answer these questions!

#the society #hallie #author spotlight #smc_27 #livinginrhythm

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bigskydreaming · 5 years ago

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Here's a random question for you: I know you're a big (the biggest) proponent of Scanny, but if you had to pick someone else for Danny to have a relationship with, who would it be?

I actually have thought about this! Honestly, my go to after Scott for Danny is Mason, because the younger characters are literally only two years younger than the original characters even if it seemed otherwise a lot of the time. And so given that we never saw Danny and Mason interact due to the whole ‘oh sure, he totally graduated offscreen a year early just in time to not be around for the season that revolved entirely around his specific expertise aka hacking’ nonsense....I can easily imagine a few years in the future, Danny and Mason meet in college or grad school or somewhere they’re on even footing and learn they have mutual friends/experiences/knowledge in common and from there grow into a friendship and also maybe then they’re boyfriends and then husbands and then dads and then grandpas and happily ever after yada yada.

Meanwhile, if Danny encountered Liam at any age, I feel like he would just be like: “No.” And then wave his hand around in Liam’s direction in a circle like to encompass all of him, as he’s all. “All of this is just exhausting, whatever it is. I am too old and too tired to deal with this....vibe you’re emitting.”

LOL I can’t explain it, like Liam and Mason have entirely different energies and I feel that age isn’t even a factor as to why Danny would just not at all have patience for Liam. Like, I don’t think he’d DISLIKE him exactly, so much as just....’I’m going to be over here, and you’re going to stay over there, and I just think that’ll be best for everyone and we’ll all get along great that way.”

Hmm, who else. Controversial I guess, but I actually did kinda like Dethan, waaaay back at the very beginning of it, before that very same season crapped all over any real potential it or even the twins at all had in the show. Given that I’m fine with them and even like them in AUs or fics that diverge before they had anything to do with Boyd’s death, but if that’s at all in canon for a story, I have no interest in them as anything other than cannon fodder. Which let’s be real, you always kinda have a need for in TW stories.

But initially, I REALLY REALLY liked the fact that there was this (at the time) mysterious new character that was there for DANNY, like, deliberately seeking him out because of real or suspected significance....I was all for that, because I was like yes, excellent, clearly this means they have plans to focus more on Danny and bring him into the core group eventually and also obviously Danny’s gonna turn this guy away from the Dark Side and make him betray his pack of overcompensating losers for Danny and the power of LOVE because who doesn’t love that trope, am I right? Its all so clearly laid out!

Ahhh, to be that dumb again.

Anyway, so in AUs or early canon-divergent fics, I can be all for Danny and a better, more fleshed out and non-jackass depiction of Ethan. But by the time Ethan returns in actual canon, the fact that he’s with Jackson just irritates me in a ‘hooking up with your ex’s best friend is a jerk move and we get it, show, you don’t consider Danny important and never did, jfc’ kinda way. Beyond that though, I’m just like, Jackson can have him at that point, they deserve each other, go Team Jerkwad.

I don’t see Theo and Danny ever happening because I like to think that Danny’s view on scheming, ambitious and boundary-breaking friends with possible homicidal inclinations has changed since Jackson and Ethan’s presences in his life, and he’s like.....”Nah, I’m not doing that again. Two of that type are enough for me, and I’m kinda always gonna put up with Jackson at this point because...look, I had my reasons probably, just because I can’t remember the basis of our friendship now, like....just back off, okay?”

Just saying, I don’t think he’d inherently hate Theo if Theo’s story happens in an AU kinda way where he doesn’t murder and betray his way through the show’s social hierarchy, lol, but Danny would still just be like “Look, whatever your issues are dude, I’m not trying to judge you for them if you don’t make me, but like, go put in some you-time offstage and then maybe we can talk. I am not emotionally equipped to put up with the schemes of yet another person whose whole thing seems to be ‘am I good or bad, you decide, because I sure as hell can’t.’ I don’t care how big your biceps are, that is not going to be a deciding factor for me, not this time, no sir, I have learned from my mistakes, I have had hashtag Growth, and you need to go now, and also please put on a shirt. I SAID GOOD DAY, SIR!”

Danny and Stiles is Lol That’s A No For Me, of course, Danny and Boyd I would be totally down for and can picture them being like, a snark queen power couple who hang back and watch all the drama unfold around them while providing entertaining commentary back and forth to each other but otherwise act like they’re not even there, and when someone annoyed by their running commentary finally snaps and goes “Why are you two even here?” like, I can so picture Danny and Boyd just blinking slowly and looking at them, then at each other, then back at them as if confused by the question.

“It’s Date Night,” Danny says slowly, in the tone reserved for being asked to solve the equation on the board that’s already got the answer written out right there.

“Okay, fine. But why are you HERE, then? If its your Date Night, like.....go have your date then. Catch a movie. Its all good, we don’t need you guys here at the moment.”

Boyd squints at them. “This IS our date. Whoppers?”

The latter is directed to Danny, as Boyd extends the box of candy towards him.

“Yes please,” Danny says, reaching for a handful.

Exasperated sighs are heard all around the room.

LOL anyway....who else....Jackson tends to be a no for me too, not for any real reason beyond like....I’ve read too many fics where they’re essentially treated as the Mirror Universe version of S/ciles, and you KNOW how I feel about that ship, so like, all even dubiously associated ships are by mere proxy also noped by me. *Shrugs*

Which mostly just leaves Isaac, and....idk, tbh. I’m not inherently opposed to them, and I’ve actually even read a couple of fairly long-ish and pretty enjoyable Danny/Isaac fics. But enjoyable in the sense of like....just as their own thing, a fun romance set in the TW setting/universe, between Danny and an Isaac-shaped woobiewolf. As the few Danny/Isaac fics I’ve found over the years tend to suffer from the exact same thing that’s always kept me from really ever getting into Scott and Isaac as a couple in anything other than theory...

Like, in the fics I’ve tried, I always tend to run into the same tendency to just....sand down all of Isaac’s rough edges and make him this shy, insecure, soft boy who is withdrawn until Danny or Scott bring him out of his shell....even when its based on the events of the show and Isaac’s already been turned into his leather jacket-wearing, snark-wielding, deliberately apathetic werewolfsona.

And that’s just...not Isaac to me? So if I treat him as an original character basically, I can enjoy those stories, and do, just because there’s sooooo little Danny-centric fic that awhile back, I absolutely spent a good year or so making sure like, I found every last scrap of it, lol. I went spelunking in some deep, dark places in search of even a little spotlight time for Danny, because He Deserved Better and I was willing to put up with a lot to see him get even a little (except for like, blatant and unavoidable Scott hate being front and center in the fic as well. Then I exited with rapidity. I love Danny, but not even for him can I stomach that).

But yeah, otherwise, I very very rarely found a lot of Isaac fics, no matter who he was paired with, where he wasn’t like....constantly soft and vulnerable and the focus of Scott or Danny or whomever else’s regular attempts to comfort and protect him. Which I mean, I love Isaac, and I’m always projecting onto abuse survivors in fiction even if just a little bit, so its not that I object to the comfort and desire to protect him parts, just the sheer unevenness that tends to be present in his dynamics as well. I’ve always said that for me, the true theme of TW was survivor empowerment, that all of these kids had been hurt and exploited and traumatized in various ways and they all struggled individually and together to find ways to cope and to heal, and also to feel empowered enough to protect THEMSELVES from whatever or whomever tried to hurt them again in the future.

And that’s the element that so often is missing from Isaac’s arc in fics, IMO...any hint of the character who he spent a lot of time and effort growing into on the show. Evolving first into a character who reveled in the power he’d been given and that made him feel safe and strong for the first time in his life, to the point where he was quite frankly an asshole a lot of the time.

But then from there he grew into a character who came to terms with the reality that as his own power grew, so did the power of the new tormentors he was now often in conflict with, due to the source of his newfound strength...and his strength and brutality and apathy were not at all the tools able to help him find true protection and recovery in his new world. They just weren’t going to get the job done, and that’s when he started to let Scott’s example sink in and take his lead from that, finding the power and strength in committing himself more to others, becoming more of an active participant rather than just a spectator or a henchman who needed orders before acting.....allowing himself to be vulnerable in exchange for the benefits being more open to others afforded him.

Isaac’s growth onscreen from season to season was the very thing that made him so interesting and enjoyable to me....as well as how his bond with Scott did the same thing....so when the former isn’t really present in fics, even the presence of the latter doesn’t really do a whole lot for me. And its the same thing in the Danny/Isaac fics I read, so yeah. There for it in theory, but the execution I’ve found has never done anything to make it any more compelling a ship possibility than any other random ship.

I think that’s pretty much everyone though? Well I mean like, there’s Corey, but I don’t have strong feelings about that possibility one way or another. And there’s Derek, given the whole ‘Miguel’ thing in S1, but you know me, even in future/aged-up settings, I still tend to be ‘what if Derek dated people his own damn age tho, like just for the sheer novelty, let’s explore that some more’.....not to mention that as the show progressed, the more fandom hated on Braeden and her relationship with Derek, the more I spite-shipped them. To the extent that now I find it hard to picture even AUs where they’re not endgame, or if Derek HAS to be in another ship for some reason, then they still were a super serious relationship before the fic and there’s always that hint of her being the one that got away, kinda.

*Shrugs* What can I say? The enemy ship of my enemy is my OTP. The Art of War, fandom style. I have no problem admitting it, lolol.

But yeah, that’s all of them I think now.

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fulcrumahsokaamidala · 5 years ago

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Saturday Spectacular #12

Happy Saturday!!! So this is me thanking awesome fanfic writers for their amazing work and all the time they put into their fics. ♥️ I want to recommend spectacular fanfic stories I read this week! ♥️ They are posted in the order I read them. All posts will be tagged #saturday spectacular fic rec

When Did It All Go Wrong by @wrldtravler | Arrow | WIP

Summary: After a mission with A.R.G.U.S. goes south, agent Oliver Queen learns something he shouldn’t about Director Amanda Waller. Sent on the run when A.R.G.U.S. turns against him, he’s forced to seek out the one person that never wanted to see him again but whom he trusts with his life: his ex, Felicity Smoak. Putting their past behind them, the estranged pair come together along with John Diggle and Lyla Michaels to stop the looming threat. However, the past never stays buried for long. With their renewed connection comes great strength. But where there is strength, there is also great weakness – one that may cost them everything they worked to prevent.

“Time for a story” Drabble Series by @smkkbert | Arrow | WIP

Summary: This fic shows Olicity and their life as a (married) couple with family. Although Olicity (and their kids) are the protagonists, other characters of Arrow and Flash make appearances. It started as a drabble series, but developed more and more into a full domestic AU.

Providence by @so-caffeinated | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Will Queen has struggled in silence in the year since he was shot. But when a shadowy crime lord known as Domino targets the only woman Will’s ever truly loved, fate forces him to confront his demons in ways he never could have imagined… Whether he wants to or not. Amelia Prescott has fought to take control of her life since learning two years ago that her personal and professional worlds were manipulated by others. But nothing can prepare her for just how hard she’ll have to fight to set her own course, especially when her heart belongs to a damaged man and a crime lord threatens her every professional move… And her life. Destiny brings them together, but as chaos reigns and personal demons haunt Will and Amelia both, it may also threaten to tear them apart.

(i want to) save that light by @callistawolf | Arrow | WIP

Summary: What if one little thing changed in the history of Arrow? What if, instead of going to Laurel’s apartment after discovering the extent of Merlyn’s plans for the Glades, Oliver stayed at the foundry and talked to Felicity instead? This series of short vignettes explores some of the ripple-effect changes that could take place throughout the next season as a result of this one, fortuitous change.

Semper Fidelis by @oliversmuse | Arrow | Completed

Summary: Oliver Queen is a member of the Bravo Squad, a team that specializes in search and rescue, covert infantry and translating foreign documents. He is known as one of the best and even though he is one of the youngest recruits he advances quickly. While serving he meets Lance Corporal Felicity Smoak, a young woman with skills in hand to hand combat. Despite the fact they butt heads they fall in love and soon start to talk about a future together. However, when her plane disappears on a mission in China and she is presumed dead, Bravo Squad searches frantically for her, only to find her plane and her bloody dog tags. Five years later Oliver runs into “Megan” at a coffee shop near that gym he has been running with his friends. She has lost her memory from the plane accident but has had dreams of Oliver and the Bravo Squad. With the help of his friends and team mates, can he help her reclaim her past and fall for him once again?

grade 2 right shoulder subscapularis strain by @alexiablackbriar13 | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: Oliver Queen is an Olympic archer with a shoulder injury who hates sports therapy with a passion. Dr Felicity Smoak is his new physiotherapist. Sparks fly. Perhaps Felicity can change Oliver's mind.

Aftermath by @realityisoverrated-fic | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: Malcolm Merlyn has laid waste to the Glades. Laurel Lance is dead. Moira Queen is in jail. Thea is hiding away in her brother's nightclub. Oliver is licking his wounds, who knows where. Tommy would like nothing more than leave town and never look back, but someone needs to stick around and be accountable for his father's murderous undertaking.

Mothers know best by @smkkbert | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Since they have been kids, they have been best friends. Since they have been friends, their mothers wanted them to be together. After coming back from the east coast, Felicity takes over a position at Queen Consolidated, the company her best friend will soon take over from his father. Their mothers still push for them to be together, and they seem closer to that goal than ever because wedding bells are ringing. The only problem is that they both plan to get married to someone else.

Alpha by @oliversmuse | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Oliver Queen was a powerful vampire that was captured by a group experimenting on hybrids. Turned into a hybrid that is half vampire and half wolf he is strong, fast and deadly. While in captivity he meets Dr. Felicity Smoak a hermatologist who is called in to monitor his feedings. All Oliver wants is to be free, away from the experiments and being in a cage, and strangely he feels he can trust Dr. Smoak. There is also an unspoken attraction between them that is forbidden. Can he convince her to set him free or will her attraction to him tempt her to keep him close?

Artemis by @laxit21 | Arrow | WIP

Summary: When the Queen’s Gambit sank, two people were stranded on Lian Yu. Five years later, four came back.

Daughter of the Demon by @laxit21 | Arrow | WIP

Summary: What if in 1988 while traveling through Las Vegas Ra’s al Ghul bumps into a nice waitress named Donna Smoak and they have one-night stand together? A little bundle of joy named Felicity Smoak is the result. In 2014, the Demon Head becomes aware of his youngest daughter’s existence.

The Ravager by @laxit21 | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Slade Wilson’s plan for revenge against Oliver took time, money and no shortage of lives to pull together. His plan didn’t anticipate Felicity Smoak. How will his plan change now that his lost-lost daughter is working with the very man he’s trying to destroy?

Felicity of Themiscyra by @laxit21 | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Years ago, Donna Smoak left the island of Themiscyra and her sister Queen Hippolyta behind to live in man’s world. She never told Felicity the truth about where she came from. As a result of the Undertaking, Felicity discovers some of her Amazonian abilities and makes an interesting new friend: Diana Prince.

The Daughter That Was Left by @laxit21 | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Before the Gambit, Oliver Queen met QC intern Felicity Smoak. When he boarded the Gambit, he left something behind. Now, five long years later someone is waiting for him.

I Scream But No Sound Comes out by @laxit21 | Arrow | WIP

Summary: When Oliver returns from Lian Yu after five years, he comes back different. What happened there damaged more than just his body. How will his friends and family deal with this new Oliver?

| ONE | (Oliver The Footballer) by @someonesaidcake | Arrow | Completed

Summary: Felicity Smoak had a plan; to save enough money to kick her monotonous job and start up the company of her dreams. She made good plans, solid plans, attainable plans. He was never part of her plan. His name was Oliver Queen, the reclusive Brazilian football star with a broken smile and a story to tell He’d never planned on her either.

Did I Forget to Mention That My Dad is a Supervillain? by @laxit21 | Arrow | WIP

Summary: When Felicity told Oliver about her father, she wasn’t lying per se. She wasn’t completely honest either. It’s just that ‘my dad left us’ sounded better than the truth.

Or: A Series of one shots in which Felicity’s dad is a supervillain and we see how Oliver and the team finds out.

little wonders (twists and turns of fate) by @alexiablackbriar13 | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Oliver and Felicity's drunken mistake of a hook-up in the bunker comes with unexpected consequences in the form of a... souvenir. Deciding to remain romantically uninvolved, the two of them will have to battle all the trials and tribulations of maintaining a platonic relationship while Felicity is pregnant and the two of them are living together, coping with all the emotional baggage that they both bring to the table - and dealing with the fact that they are still very much in love with each other, but scarred by the events that broke them apart in the first place.

Winds of Change by Nerdofmanytalents | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: Tommy finds an unexpected visitor hiding under the bar. [This segment takes place before the events of "Whats the Matter, Baby."]

The Road Not Taken by @oneofthosecrazygirls-fics | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Canon divergence/fix-it AU. Everything that happened in the series up through 4x11 happens as it did in the show and this fic diverges from there.Direct sequel to “Swear This One You’ll Save” and “Have Your Cake (And Eat It Too)” so make sure you read those first before reading this one.This fic is part of the What Should’ve Been ‘verse.

A Hidden Life by @realityisoverrated-fic | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: It's Oliver, Felicity, and Tommy's first Thanksgiving together. Their plans for a shared meal are upended by the unexpected arrival of Donna Smoak.

The Cat, the Canary, and the Dinosaur by stick2theplan | Arrow | Completed

Summary: Nyssa and Sara are visiting Oliver and co for the week. Of course, this means they'll at least have to endure a semi-awkward pseudo-family brunch. Fighting bad guys is easy compared to answering awkward questions from Oliver's too-perceptive son.

ink stains and dumbbells by inlovewithimpossibility | Arrow | WIP

Summary: "Hey Dynasties, Oliver here coming at you with another video!"

"Hi guys, welcome back to Ghost Fox Goddess, I am Felicity Smoak."

When one half of YouTube duo, Queen-Merlyn Dynasty, lands himself in hot water with Principal Wilson due to failing grades, Oliver knows that he needs to step up his game. The principal recommends a tutor but little does Oliver know that she's also a successful YouTuber. The two of them set out on filming a collab but neither anticipates how popular their videos will be or the insane reaction the sight of the two of them on screen together will gain from the fans.

#saturday spectacular fic rec #weekly fic recs

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scintillatingshortgirl19 · 6 years ago

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Ok, y’know fucking what?

I think I’m going to try to view the entirety of the MCU in the same manner as fanfiction. I don’t mean just not considering Infinity War and Endgame canon – I mean I’m going to try to consider the MCU, as a whole, as a concept, fanfiction. I will attempt to explain. Here is one cool thing about fanfiction: you can have infinite AUs, infinite universes, infinite variations of character development – and they can all be simultaneously valid! There’s no universal “canon” in fanfic. It doesn’t matter if they contradict each other, because they are separate universes, able to be loved or hated independently of one another. I think the time travel insanity in EG allows me to do this with what we call “MCU canon.” With all the crazy divergent timelines, the concept of canon is now fluid and uncertain. What they did in EG was so twisted up and weird and unclear as to how it works (the creators themselves can’t even agree on it!), and with Loki (and probably other characters? Steve?) there is another version of him in existence. Obviously Loki still died as far as Thor is concerned, but we also know in a different timeline he escaped with the tesseract in 2012 and is still alive. And people have also pointed out that 2014 Thanos died, so in one timeline IW never happened and (presumably) Thor and Loki and everybody else Lived Happily Ever After! I mean, how could there be one specific “real canon” at this point? Canon is whatever MCU timeline or universe I want it to be. With Marvel’s ridiculous and chaotic version of time travel, they’ve made it so I feel like I can reject the idea of one single MCU canon. The MCU, essentially, is now made of fanfics. There are now different versions of “canon.”

Ragnarok? That’s that WIP that was never finished. Damn, on a cliffhanger too! Guess we’ll just have to imagine the final chapter where they kicked Thanos’ ass in five minutes and proceeded to Earth to rebuild and live happily ever after.

Infinity War? Just one of those character death AUs. Or, if you prefer, another unfinished WIP that you know would’ve ended happily had it been finished.

Endgame? That AU with a whole bunch of things you weren’t a fan of. Bummer! Oh well, let’s go back and reread an old favorite. It’s just fanfic – if you didn’t like it, it didn’t really happen.

It’s like this: Let’s say you read a fic where Loki becomes an Avenger. Cool! Then, you read one where he and Thor reconcile at the end of TTDW and go on a brotherly bonding space road trip (is there a fic like that? I want to read it) and the Avengers aren’t even in it! Oh no, wait! Does that mean Loki never became an Avenger in that other fic?!

…well, of course not. Those fics are in separate worlds. They can be totally different and contradictory, yet coexist as equally true in your mind. Loki can be an Avenger in one fic, and never interact with the Avengers in another. Since we have all these divergent timelines, this is how I have decided to view the MCU, and Loki in particular. Just because Endgame has him running off to who knows where in 2012, doesn’t mean he didn’t also get captured in a different 2012 and go through the events of the following films and reconcile with Thor. They just happened in different worlds, in different timelines. Loki is dead, and he’s with Thor, and he’s also off having alternate-post-2012 adventures. There are different versions of him out there now – you pick the one you like, or all of the above. Loki can be dead if you watched the Infinity War fanfic (that is, if you choose not to think of it as a WIP). He can be alive and reconciled with Thor if those Ragnarok and/or Thor the Dark World WIPs are your thing (or the Thanos-died-in-2014 AU). Or maybe Loki’s off gallivanting around the universe after getting away with the tesseract in Endgame, hopefully healing and being redeemed in a different way.

I’m always going to be furious about a whole fucking ton of things. They never had Thor and Loki talk through their issues. They never addressed Loki’s torture although they could still do that in the TV series but you know they won’t, stop getting your hopes up. We never got to see Loki interact with the Avengers or the Guardians. We never got the goddamn Thor and Loki hug. It turned out “the sun will shine on us again” meant absolutely nothing. Loki didn’t have “an important role” in Infinity War like Marvel fucking told us he would a couple of years ago. And there are countless other things I’m forgetting to list. Ultimately, Marvel fucked up bad – and not just in terms of Thor and Loki’s stories. They fucked up the whole MCU and all its characters. I shouldn’t have to come up with a whole complicated way of coping with what they did because it should have just been good. Or at the very least, something other than “practically the absolute worst it could have possibly been.” We were cheated by a business who promised us a product – a product we desperately needed! – and didn’t deliver, and now we have to make do with what we can. But because they screwed up specifically the way they did, the idea of canon is kind of corrupted now. The MCU up to this point can end with the events of Endgame, if you prefer, but that’s just another AU at this point – we can also say that the other films are WIPs that never got completed. We didn’t deserve a whole universe of abandoned, unfinished fanfics. But this is the best I can do to deal with this. The Endgame AU gave us an unspeakably bad resolution, so I’m choosing “no resolution” as the lesser of two evils – and because they fucked up to the extent that they did, it doesn’t even feel illogical to do that. There’s no logic here anymore. The whole MCU is unfinished fanfics. Pick the ones you want, and imagine the endings that you know were supposed to happen. And of course, the fandom will write much better fanfics than the MCU did – and maybe even actually complete them (but if not, our WIPs will still be better).

#just trying to figure out what my coping mechanism's gonna be #this might all be complete nonsense #but then again endgame was nonsense too #so it doesn't really matter #i'm still processing just how bad it was #endgame spoilers #the lovely stupidity of marvel #avengers: endme

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callunavulgari · 6 years ago

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Year-In-Fic | 2018

How many fics did you write this year? What was your total wordcount? This year I wrote... 12 fics. Bit of a letdown, really, but I mean. I didn’t write much. I wrote what I did whenever a plot bunny really seized hold of me, but I didn’t go out of my way to write this year. Which is sad. But I mean, shit happens. 55,519 words, which isn’t completely terrible for 12 fics. It helps that a couple of them were in the 8-9k range.

Fic Roundup!

Everybody’s Looking For Something | Stranger Things | Steve/Billy | 4,790 words | On the third weekend of May during their last year at Hawkins High, Steve Harrington throws a party.Billy crashes it.

taste you on my tongue | Stranger Things | Steve/Billy | 2,290 words | “You’ve never felt pleasure like it, Steve,” an old girlfriend had told him once, her eyes bright with memory. Steve shrugged. “No vampires here, though.”

Home | Star Wars | Reylo | 1,670 words | “Rey,” he says into the quiet. “Just drive.”

hits like a drum | Stargate Atlantis | Mcshep | 3,507 words | “Believe it or not, having something with sharp teeth breathing down your neck is not actually conducive to one’s thought process.” John barks out a loud, abrupt noise that might be laughter, his breath tickling the hairs at the base of Rodney’s neck. “I’d have thought it would be good motivation.”

feed the hunger | Stranger Things | Steve/Billy | 1,792 words | “Thought you wanted to fuck me, Hargrove,” Steve whispers, and presses a sweet kiss to the hinge of Billy’s jaw. “Now’s your chance.”

Apotheosis | Marvel - INFINITY WAR | Thor/Loki, Steve/Pepper/Tony | 4,450 words | Grief, a story told in three parts.

and i’m always tired, but never of you | The Bright Sessions | Sam/Damien/Mark | 10,405 words | Sam runs into Damien at the grocery store two years later. It changes everything.

tides will bring me back to you | Kingdom Hearts | Axel/Roxas | 7,383 words | When Axel was sixteen, he did something stupid.

Smallest Light | Stranger Things | Gen, El & Will | 5,165 words | In the summer of 1986, Will’s mom marries Jim Hopper. OR, Will and El learn how to be real people again together.

i don’t want to rest in peace, we can haunt each other’s dreams | EOS 10 | Ryan/Akmazian | 1,520 words | In the dream, Ryan wakes up and Akmazian is there.

Looking For Atlantis | SGA | Mcshep | 4,632 words | Hey Rodney, the postcard reads. Go see a movie.

keep your heart open (i’ll keep mine open too) | Stranger Things | Harringrove | 7,915 words | “Did you even like me before you found out I was your soulmate?” Billy murmurs as he kisses a line down Steve’s throat.

Best story I wrote this year: and i’m always tired, but never of you. It was that one fic that I wrote because I just couldn’t stand the idea of Mark, Sam, and Damien not having a happy ending. Because I realized there was no poly fic for them on ao3 and I thought that was a travesty. So I wrote 10k in like two days and it’s soft and sweet and the happy ending that I wanted to see, so I freaking wrote it.

What’s your favorite story this year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you the happiest. Honestly? Home. It’s only 1600 words, and it’s Reylo, which I wasn’t even feeling that much this year, but it’s just the story that I set out to write. The night that I wrote it I’d had the shittiest day at work and came home wanting to write about someone being angry and sad and driving really fast. Originally I think I’d been planning on the story being Harringrove, but modern day Skywalkers just kind of spilled out of me.

Okay, NOW your most popular story. feed the hunger, my harringrove fic that I wanted to write the entire time I was in South Carolina, where Steve is a little bit messy and he and Billy fuck around for a bit and catch feelings comes in first with 339 kudos and 2731 hits, but taste you on my tongue, my harringrove vampire au technically beats it in the bookmarks department. Story of mine most underappreciated by the universe, in my opinion: Yeah, probably Home. I’m always a little bummed when the stories that I like the most don’t get much attention, but well, I mean. It’s a modern day Reylo fic that I wrote a while after The Last Jedi craze settled down, so it’s whatever.

Most fun story to write: Definitely and i’m always tired, but never of you. It was so much fun to write and was so freaking easy too. Every line flowed smoothly. Even the editing didn’t trip me up much.

Story that could have been better? hits like a drum was the wraith!John AU that I had such a hard time with last year. It was supposed to be at least another 5 or 6k and feature John coming to Rodney’s rescue and becoming slowly integrated into Atlantis. It was supposed to work it’s way into something smart and plotty, and yes, eventually Rodney would have gotten to smooch the wraith. But I hit a snag and never really recovered, so I just cleaned it up and posted it as is.

Story I wrote to fix things: Technically Apotheosis, and i’m always tired, but never of you, and i don’t want to rest in peace, we can haunt each other’s dreams were all written as fix-it fics in their own way. Apotheosis was my way of dealing with Infinity War and featured Thor, Steve, and Tony dreaming about people they lost. Bright Sessions domestic poly fic was written because I wanted Damien to have some semblance of happy ending, preferably with Mark, and that last one with the super long title was written because I was trying to cope with EOS 10. Technically it wasn’t a fix-it because nothing was really fixed, but it helped fix me.

Longest completed fic this year: and i’m always tired, but never of you. Just over 10k, it’s definitely my longest this year.

Fandom you enjoyed writing for most this year: I wrote a decent chunk of Stranger Things this year and had fun with all of them, but I still think the most fun I had was with the Bright Sessions fic.

Favorite character you wrote this year: I actually really liked writing Will and El in Smallest Light. I got kind of stuck halfway into that fic, so it wasn’t always the smoothest, but Will and El were both very strange and good to write.

Most memorable comment this year: So, keep your heart open (i’ll keep mine open too) was my entry for the harringrove secret santa and I recently got a comment from my giftee that was just, the best thing to wake up to ever. I haven’t gotten the chance to reply yet, mostly because I have been ridiculously busy, but it was such a long, thorough comment and I’m just so glad they appreciated it.

Additionally, the same fic also produced a comment that started with “My Sterek bitch!!” and it just fucking tickled the hell out of me.

Fics you wanted to write but didn’t: I think I’m going to have to give up on writing the Sabriel AU. I mean, unless the Episode 9 comes out and blows me out of the water, I’m not hopeful. The Last Jedi jossed too much, even in an AU, and it made things a little complicated to move forward. I still need to finish that fic where John dies and Rodney ends up raising his daughter, and the Enjolras/Grantaire fic, and the giant Dishonored fic that I still desperately want to write. The bodyswapping Reylo, the girl Cisco AU, the Sterek Bioshock Infinite AU, the dozens of other Sterek fics that I started two or three years ago and never finished, including the Carmilla AU.

More recently, I’ve got a Castlevania OT3 fic that I’ve been working on and a different flavor of Harringrove soulmate AU that wasn’t angsty enough to be my entry for the secret santa. I have the giant canon-divergent Bright Sessions AU where years after the series ends, Mark ends up running into Damien again in a small town in the middle of nowhere only to realize that he has a daughter, a farm, a life, and is just so drawn to it that he keeps coming back. I have the Wolf 359 post-canon fic where everyone has feelings and found family is a general theme and maybe Eiffel smooches an AI. I also have the smuttier Wolf 359 fic that’s been lurking in the back of my head for months where Eiffel and Kepler er, basically eiffel tower Jacobi.

Oh, and I have the Reylo fic where Rey (and Ben, through the bond) sit through General Organa’s funeral and keep coming back to each other afterwards. And shit, I also started that Final Fantasy 15 fic where Dino and Noctis do the nasty.

Oddest story: Probably hits like a drum. I know Atlantis fics are weird, but John as a wraith is something that I hadn’t seen before. Hardest story to do: I think the only finished fic that gave me any resistance was Smallest Light, which probably wouldn’t have ever been finished if I didn’t go back and fill in the gaps with El’s part. Easiest story to write? I mean, most of these were easy. See, when you only write when you really feel the pull of something, it all comes easy. The Bright Sessions poly fic was the easiest, but all of the Harringrove ones were easy too.

Most mining of your own history in one story: Weirdly enough, tides will bring me back to you. Yeah, the story about the man-eating merman. The graffiti on the side of Axel’s building was a guy who tagged all over our neighborhood. The mermaid statue was my grandmother’s. Axel’s cat is basically my cat, but she’s been cleverly disguised because I called her gray once in the story. And like, that’s kind of it? I mean, the cove is something I came up with, but it’s heavily based on the years I spent at the beach.

Themes, or absence thereof: Atmosphere, mostly. Want. Need. Daddy issues and forever kind of loves. Soft. Where did you publish/archive your stories? Ao3, as per usual. Story I haven’t yet written, but intend to: I want to write a few things in the new year, but mostly I want to write that Dishonored fic and a couple original stories that have been percolating in my brain for a year or two.

Sexiest moment (excerpt): “Damien,” Mark breathes against his lips, and pulls back to suck a bruise into the side of Damien’s neck.

“Please,” Damien is saying, high and needy, and doesn’t know what he’s asking for, just knows that he’s desperate to have it. He slides his fingers into Mark’s hair and gives it an insistent tug, mouthing sloppily at the corner of his jaw. He spreads his thighs wider. “Please, please, please.”

“Yes,” Mark hisses, and hauls him in for a deeper kiss, yanking Damien into him until they’re so close that Damien can feel him everywhere. Mark presses against him, the weight of him settling between Damien’s spread thighs. He gives Damien a hot look and rocks their hips together. Damien makes another tiny noise, his head tilted back, mouth open. It’s probably an embarrassing sound. Mark gets his teeth on his throat, and Damien stops caring.

From very far away, he becomes aware of a door opening somewhere, but it’s so far down on his current list of priorities that he doesn’t even register why this could be a problem until he hears Sam’s voice. Damien swallows around a gasp, his glassy eyes refocusing. She’s standing about a foot or so away in the open doorway, a startled flush on her cheeks, her hair windswept. There’s a package in her arms. She arches an eyebrow in Mark’s direction.

Mark, who still hasn’t pulled away from Damien, whose teeth are still working another mark into the fragile skin at the join of his shoulder and throat. Damien swallows hard and has to close his eyes and fight down a whimper when Mark, still distracted, grinds their hips together.

“Slow, huh, Mark?” Sam asks, setting the package and her keys down on the table next to her.

Mark winces at her voice and pulls back ever so slightly, just enough to free up his mouth, not enough to drag them away from the heat of each other’s bodies. He doesn’t seem surprised enough. Doesn’t even seem to care that his girlfriend just caught them necking in her apartment. He just grins at her, helpless and a little flushed, his lips red and wet, and says, “Sorry, Sam.”

Ryan bites down on a smile, and takes another daring step forward. “Do you have standards?”

Akmazian blinks, then groans, slumping back against the desk. He looks at Ryan, and while there’s a hint of good humor, there’s also something else. Resignation, maybe. Disappointment. He laughs it off, flicking his cloak to the side, a sardonic little grin on his face, but it’s there.

“You know me, darlin’,” he says, and it sounds like a joke, but it rings true. Ryan does know him. He knows Akmazian - knows that he’s good down to the heavy muscle of his heart, knows that he’s been dealt a shitty hand in life and that he’d live that shit all over again to have the world know the truth.

Ryan knows him. Maybe that’s why he does it.

Akmazian makes a lovely, startled little noise in the back of his throat when Ryan takes both hands and draws Akmazian down to meet him, his fingers sliding into the spaces where his jaw’s gone slack. He strokes there, hesitantly, with his thumbs, and when he tugs Akmazian forward those last few inches, he is utterly sure of what he wants.

Akmazian’s lips are dry and a little chapped, but they’re plush and part easily around a groan when Ryan takes the kiss deeper, makes it a little wetter, a little more wanting. The room is quiet around them, this little echoing piece of space that is theirs alone. He can hear his own breathing, soft but steady, and Akmazian’s over that, just a little uneven. He lets out a quiet groan as his entire body relaxes into the kiss, slumping forward into Akmazian’s arms, pressing closer until they’re both half on, half off of the desk. He kisses slow and deep and a little bit sloppy, until his lips feel bruised and wet. His eyes drift closed and when Akmazian lets out a soft murmur, Ryan tips his head back to make room for Akmazian’s mouth on his throat.

He can be greedy for this, Ryan thinks as Akmazian leaves a trail of kisses up the length of his throat. He’s allowed to want this.

When he pulls back, Akmazian is looking at him with faint wonder. His hand reaches out to touch the curve of Ryan’s cheek.

“Darlin’,” he breathes, and swallows hard around the words that might have come next.

Crackiest moment (excerpt): He makes it to the last showing of Aquaman twenty minutes late, which fortunately for him means that after collecting his popcorn and slushie from the surly looking teenager manning the concession stand, he walks into the theater just as the movie is starting.

It isn’t a full theater by any means. A group college students take up a couple of the middle rows, only recognizable by their colorful array of hairstyles and the semi-permanent air of exhaustion that lingers around them like some kind of miasma. There’s an older gentlemen near the back noisily slurping a fountain drink who looks as if he hasn’t been out of the house since the 90’s. And then there’s a couple kids who look about twelve snickering and throwing popcorn at each other in the top most row.

Rodney chooses one of the first rows he sees, not necessarily because he’s enamored with the idea of being so close to the screen, but because he doesn’t want to be anywhere near the crossfire when those kids realize that there are other targets in the theater besides their friends. With a heavy sigh, he collapses onto an off-colored seat cushion that he thinks may have been mauve in a former life. The whole thing creaks alarmingly under him, and he spends a good thirty seconds arranging himself so that the arms aren’t pinching uncomfortably at his waistband.

The movie isn’t horrible, much to his surprise. It’s not great, but it’s moderately engaging, and has two relatively attractive human beings gracing the screen ninety percent of the time. It’s engaging enough that he barely notices when the twelve year olds incite a some kind of farting competition amongst themselves that a couple of the college kids decide that it’s in their best interest to escalate. He’s still half asleep in his popcorn, but staring mindlessly into a bright rectangle helps.

Maybe half an hour into the movie he notices someone slinking into the theater out of the corner of his eye, but is too invested in licking the salt and butter off of his fingers to really notice. If they want to movie hop, then whatever. Props to them. He does notice at least a little bit when they take the seat directly behind him.

Then the guy starts kicking the back of his chair.

It isn’t a constant thing. The first kick Rodney writes off as an accident. Everyone does it at some point, especially with seats as small as these. He’s probably just rearranging, and then he’ll lay off. The second and the third time? Okay, whatever. Annoying, but ultimately not worth starting something over.But the guy just keeps doing it. Every five to ten minutes, like clockwork, just as the action is starting to ramp up on screen, his knees will dig into the back of Rodney’s chair. Or his heels will scrabble against the arm rests, like he’s trying to put his feet up on Rodney’s chair. And okay, nobody has ever called Rodney patient. Nobody ever will call Rodney patient. The very idea is laughable.

He’s grinding his teeth, this close to snapping, when he hears the guy lean forward in his seat, close enough that Rodney can feel his breath on the back of his neck. The guy breathes a little loudly for a moment, and then he says, “That guy kind of looks like Ronon, don’t you think?”

Favorite dialogue (excerpt): In the dream, Loki smiles at him. They’re on Asgard, in what were once Loki’s quarters. His body reclines loosely across a chaise that he had favored, one knee hooked over the arm. As Thor watches, he stretches - a languid, rippling motion that seems to start from his toes and end in his shoulders.

“Brother,” he says in welcome, his face open and content.

“You mean to torture me,” Thor says dully, licking his chapped lips.

Loki’s face crumples, the beatific smile going dim. The sunlight coming in through the windows behind him is all Asgard, golden and warm. If he touched Loki now, he thinks he would feel an echo of that warmth, the heat of it having seeped into Loki’s shoulders and back.

At last, Loki says, “You torture yourself, Thor.”

“Only because you are not here to do it for me,” Thor replies, taking a step forward as if pulled in by some great, magnetic force.

Loki sighs, his dangling leg swinging in idle irritation. “Perhaps I am here, truly. Would it be so hard to imagine that a piece of me lives on within you?”

“No,” Thor whispers, and feels a tear drip down his cheek. “It would not. I have always held you here, in my heart.”

Loki looks at him, all the mirth gone from his face. “You cradled my body when I was gone. You pulled me close and waited for that explosion. You were to die, with me. With our people. You meant to. The last of the Aesir.”

Thor reaches the chaise, and sinks to his knees before him. Loki touches him gently, cool fingertips tracing his face from temple to jaw.

“Tell me, brother,” Loki asks him softly. “When you woke, did it pain you? Did you look for me? For my corpse?”

“Yes,” Thor tells him. He had woken disoriented, surrounded by strangers, the memory of rage lighting him up from the inside out, the ghost of Loki’s touch still against him. He’d thought of vengeance, of a burial that he would never have, and he had hurt. He’d gone chasing after death, and hoped it would take him.

He’d told the rabbit that he had nothing left to lose. It turned out that he was wrong. There was always more left to lose.He chokes on a sob, and Loki shushes him.

“You will do this, brother. I know you will.” The corners of Loki’s lips quirk upwards into an impossible smile. Perfect in its replication. “You and Stark, your Avengers. You will beat Thanos.”

Loki’s smile goes sadder, and he touches Thor the way that Thor used to touch him, a hand reaching out to clasp the hinge of Thor's jaw, thumb stroking his cheek. “You don’t know how to lose, Thor. You never did.”

“And if I can’t bring you back?”

Loki shrugs. “Then you dream of me. Whenever you think to miss me.”

Thor chokes on a watery laugh. “I will always be dreaming of you, then.”

One last touch. A kiss, light as a feather, first to his brow and then to his lips. A tear slips from Loki’s chin and lands on Thor’s cheek. Loki is still smiling, his eyes wet. “Then, I will welcome your company.”

Favorite lines (excerpt):

Damien is wearing dark jeans, and though there are holes at the knees, they seem to be of the ‘artfully distressed’ sort rather than the too-lazy-to-patch-up variety. He’s got a decent jacket hugging his shoulders, and under that, she’s pretty sure she spies a Nirvana shirt. His shaggy hair is pulled back into a half-assed bun and there’s a day or two worth of stubble clinging to his jaw, but he looks okay. Good. A little too grunge to be on this side of the millenium, and hopelessly confused by the third bag of chicken nuggets he’s picked up, but good.

She bites her lip, and considers her options.

Two years ago, she’d be hightailing it out of this grocery store as quickly as possible, packing Mark into the nearest suitcase, and skipping town to go find backup. But for some reason, she doesn’t think that Damien’s followed them here. More likely, is that they accidentally followed him here.

Before she has the chance to second-guess herself, Sam takes a deep breath and strides firmly into the aisle, shopping basket swaying at her side. She comes to a stop right beside him, and for a moment, he doesn’t seem to notice her. He’s squinting at the nutrition facts on another bag of chicken nuggets. There's ramen and a pack of energy drinks in his basket.

“Those probably aren’t great for you,” she tells him, wrinkling her nose.

“Did I ask you?” Damien sing-songs, still not looking away from the nuggets. He hmphs at it, and muses, possibly to himself, “A hundred and seventy calories for five pieces. Not bad.”

“Yeah, but how much of that is actually chicken?”

Damien blinks, and tears his eyes away from the bag. He looks up at her, his face stuck in an expression that seems to be at least two-thirds disdain, the rest of it being absolute incredulity, as if he’s appalled that some stranger in the grocery store is insisting on lecturing him about his taste in chicken nuggets - which, fair. Because Sam’s looking for it, she can pinpoint the exact moment that he places her, his eyes going ever so slightly wider. He blinks and shuffles backwards half a step, and then the surprise is gone, leaving behind a smooth mask of general douchebaggery. She remembers that mask - the slimy smirk and the too-cool-for-you-slouch.

He leans against the freezer door, and regards her coolly.

Apathetic. Smooth. Unphased.

Yeah, right.

“Saaaaaaam,” he drawls, eying her up and down. One sharp eyebrow quirks upwards, his gaze lingering on the Care Bear t-shirt that she’d thrown on over the tattered, holey tanktop she’d worn to bed the night before. The t-shirt is just as old and worn as the tank top is, and she immediately has to struggle against the urge to check herself for pizza stains. After all, it’s not like the shirt was exactly clean when she’d grabbed it out of the laundry pile. It was just the best looking of the bunch.

She wasn’t actually supposed to run into people that she knew at the freaking grocery store. And definitely not on laundry day. That was just rude.

The smirk ticks ever higher. Damien nods at her shirt. “Cute.”

Sam flexes her fingers, and wonders with an idle sort of curiosity if it would be worth the pain to punch him again. No. Fuck that. Two can play at this game.

“I thought so,” she says with an indifferent shrug and a chipper little smile.

(or)

Do you miss him, she thinks, and has to bite down hard on her lip to keep the question from slipping out. God, how stupid. He’s all pathetic and droopy now, of course he misses Mark. He takes a deep breath, and she watches him pull himself back together. It’s not a very convincing charade, but she lets him have it.

“Anyway,” he says brightly, and pushes off of the freezer. “Things to do, puppies to terrorize, you know the deal.”

He looks at her with that same careful consideration she’d given him a moment ago, and makes his face do something that she thinks is supposed to be an amiable smile. It mostly just looks like he’s trying too hard.

He holds out his hand. “Sam.”

Reluctantly, she takes it. His hand is chilly and a little damp, but he has a surprisingly strong grip. “Damien.”

The grin that he flashes her is still just this side of wrong, too showy, not enough mean.

“It’s been real, but I gotta go.” Damien hesitates, and just when she thinks he’s gonna let it go, he leans in and brushes a careful kiss to her cheek. His lips are warm. They linger for a moment over the swell of her cheekbone, and she wonders why that is. If it’s because of Mark, or her, or the sheer unexpected delight of human contact. When he pulls back, there’s a flush of red across his cheeks, and an unsure, painfully earnest smile on his lips.

His voice is soft, tellingly so when he murmurs, “Give Mark my love, okay?”

Sam swallows, her heart thundering in her chest. And, because she’s still caught off guard, she smiles back, and says, “Okay.”

(or)

“I swear to god, Ben-”

Ben sighs heavily, laying an arm down on the rest between them. He turns to her, and for the first time all day, he really looks. Her hair is frizzing where its come loose from her bun, and there’s engine oil beneath her fingernails. Her dress, modest enough when standing, is riding up her thighs, the cut scandalously short for a funeral. He would bet money that she didn’t pick it out herself.

Her eyes scald him - all the anger and accusation that he’s been avoiding for the last few years narrowed down to a single point. Her brow is pulled tight into a frown and she- she’s itching for this. He knows she is, because even if he hasn’t seen her in six years, Ben grew up alongside of her. He’d been there for her early years, when just keeping her from running was hard enough.

He’d chased her across state lines, kept her from hopping busses, dragged her kicking and screaming to return every stolen car.

He knew the fire in her. He had it, too.

And he knew that it was burning.

“Rey,” he says into the quiet. “Just drive.”

She bares her teeth again, lip curled into an effortless, vicious snarl. Her eyes narrow. Around them, the car hums with power. It sounds as angry as she does.

“You’ll regret that,” she warns, and when he says nothing, she makes a quiet irritated noise and slams the car into reverse, peeling explosively out of the lot. Dust clouds the road behind them. He can smell the burning rubber.

Fic goals: I did absolutely none of the goals I set last year. Nothing novel length, nothing original, very few original characters, and I almost made it to 60k, but not quite. My only goal for next year is to write something that’s all mine. That’s it, Heather. Write a story, make it yours.

#heather says what #heather writes #2018 #new year's memes

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miss-m-calling · 6 years ago

Text

Fandom 5k letter

Requests:

Adult Wednesday Addams -- Wednesday Addams

American Gods (TV) -- Laura Moon/Mad Sweeney

Cabin Pressure -- Carolyn & Arthur & Martin & Douglas

Moonlighting (TV) -- David Addison/Maddie Hayes

Dear writer,

Hello and thank you for writing for me. I’m very excited to read whatever you come up with.

I do give more or more detailed prompts for some of these canons than for others – that’s not because I want some more than others, but only because for some I get lots of ideas, for others I’m more “waves arms all over the place give me more of XYZ I love in canon!!” I hope whatever I put down sparks your creativity, and feel free to reach out through the mods if you have any questions! My likes and DNWs are all the way on the bottom of the letter.

Without further ado…

Requests:

Adult Wednesday Addams

Wednesday Addams

Genres: Action/adventure, Canon-style plot, Humor, Slice of life, Worldbuilding

I belatedly discovered this webseries, and it resurrected (see what I did there?) my love for Wednesday and how the Addams Family canon runs on the endless possibilities of this loving, happily eccentric family being 100% true to themselves and the world just having to deal with it. The show was everything I never knew I wanted till I watched it, the perfect blend of Addams-macabre and cozy slice of life with bonus Wednesday navigating the world alone, without always knowing her family will back her up, and it made me crave more of adult Wednesday’s mini adventures in LA. For this canon, I’m good with gen or, if you want to write that, more of Wednesday’s adventures in dating guys who really aren’t up to the challenge, and you can absolutely have Wednesday interact with OCs I haven’t listed as part of a pairing. I’m keeping the prompts pretty short, just to (hopefully) pique your creativity, as I expect I will love any way you make these or any similar scenarios play out:

-Wednesday goes to IKEA

-More of Wednesday’s interactions with the nice interns at her receptionist job. Maybe they invite her out to happy hour, or to the beach or a club. Or maybe we get to eavesdrop while they shoot the breeze on their lunch break, possibly over barbecue-chicken pizza from CPK.

-More of Wednesday’s gigs. She already babysits and walks other people’s dogs, what else might she do for extra cash that would be both really common and seemingly ill-suited to Wednesday, except she totally makes it work for her? Cat sitting (especially if the cat belongs to someone incredibly rich whose house is full of secrets – and expensive things for the cat to knock over), driving an Uber/Lyft, becoming an AirBnB host, catering/server, working the late shift in a New Age/occult supply store where none of the woo is real…?

-Or, alternately, Wednesday finds a career that is perfect for her, in which she can have success and respect. What ever could that be and still fit into the non-Addams world?

-Wednesday tries speed dating

-Or, she runs into Brian a.k.a. chains guy (I cackle with glee every time I rewatch the bit when he tries to kiss her at the pet store) a third time – how does it not go quite as he wanted or expected this time?

-Wednesday’s family comes out to sunny, plastic, image-conscious LA to visit her and make sure she’s doing alright. She gives them a tour of the city, and LA will never be the same again.

-Wednesday takes an evening class, or goes back to school part time, or enrolls in an online degree program

-Wednesday takes a road trip, alone or with her apartment mates/colleagues/Brian/strangers she met for carpooling purposes. Bonus points if you work in real roadside attractions, or tourist traps, or famous sites/landscapes.

-It’s Dia de Muertos, and Wednesday goes out to celebrate and soak up the atmosphere. It may or may not live up to her expectations.

-If you wanted to get a bit meta and/or enjoy playing around with different formatting, what does Wednesday’s Tumblr/Twitter/Facebook/Tindr look like? Or, Wednesday gets tasked with updating company social media at her receptionist job, and she does it with her own special flair.

American Gods (TV)

Laura Moon/Mad Sweeney

Genres: Action/adventure, AU - canon divergence, Canon-style plot, Character development, Getting together, Smut, Worldbuilding

Let me preface this by saying how much I appreciate that you are willing to write for an ongoing canon! I love this pairing, and while most of my prompts are basically the same ones I’ve used in exchanges before S2 (which I am watching) started airing, let me assure you that I am 1000% fine with your fic getting jossed, or including a divergence from what we already know or how things happen in canon. You can work with the canon -- or as much of it as we have by the time you’re done writing -- or diverge in a way that works for your story. Really truly honestly it’s all fine since you are writing for an active canon, and I really truly honestly appreciate you wanting to tackle this! Canon divergences and canon-flavored-if-not-entirely-compliant stories are my jam, so please don’t feel anxious as the canon keeps unfolding, nor pressed to keep up with S2 if you can’t or don’t want to watch it right now. (I tried to keep S2 spoilers to a minimum in my prompts, but there are some spoilers.)

So *clears throat*

I ship it. Yes I do. They had me at “gimme-my-coin-dead-wife”-flicks-him-into-wall. The snarky road trip was the best thing I never knew I wanted until it happened, and I adored every second of it. They’re both such assholes and so fascinating, even if they start to mellow toward each other a bit toward the end of S1, and all the gods/magic/resurrection stuff swirling around them begs to be explored further. Also I love love love how their dynamic is about equal parts spikiness, pathos, and humor (they’re funny! and the canon doesn’t shy away from putting them in ludicrous situations), and it weaves seamlessly between those three. Plus she’s half his size yet can and does beat him up with literally one finger, and then there’s the angst of he having killed her, feeling really guilty about it, and then bringing her back.

Please give me either missing scenes from the road trip (if you can work in a divergence, that’s great - for example, I like Salim, but if you want to have him boot Sweeney and Laura to the curb and go off on his own, or Sweeney to boost his taxi before Salim catches them, or whatever else to have those two alone, go for it!), or a S1 divergence (instead of going to Ostara, they go where? to see whom? about getting Laura resurrected) or something about these two post-S1/during-S2:

-Laura discovers (how? you decide!) that Sweeney gave her back the coin after their accident – whatever happens next, some punching may be involved.

-Wednesday’s big war finally comes, and “don’t you dare die on me, you asshole” is a line either Sweeney or Laura (or both) might say to each other.

-Laura asked “What does Wednesday have to lose?” and the answer is…? (Yes, give me that sweet poetic justice. One possibility, though not remotely the only one, but as of S2E3 Laura is technically a god-killer...)

-On a similar note, Wednesday told that luckless cop that Sweeney had been against the big gods’ war from the start, and while Wednesday lies, Sweeney definitely seems to be participating out of a sense of obligation and lingering guilt over the war he ran from long ago, rather than lust for a good fight or even a dominant death wish. What if he decided to hell with Grimnir and his war and his having Sweeney kill random people? I’m guessing Sweeney too drank three glasses of mead so he can’t back out without dire consequence - but he does have a fierce, dead woman in his corner.

-They go to some as-yet-unnamed old god (feel free to bring in whatever mythology you want) in order to bring Laura back to life. Between Sweeney’s mouth and temper, and Laura’s mouth and temper, it doesn’t go well. Now one or both of them are in big magical trouble with a pissed-off deity and have to get themselves/each other out of it.

-Things happen and Laura finds herself in the position to throw Sweeney under the bus but also help/save him, and while he knows it’s only karma, he can still be pissed about it - how do they navigate this?

-Laura gets fully alive again, but traces of her (un)dead state remain – what are they, how does she cope, what price did she/he/they have to pay for her resurrection, and how does their relationship change? I’d especially be curious how it would work if they’re already a sorta-maybe-item and *then* she’s alive again and it’s weird in a new way.

-For reasons I’ll leave up to you, Sweeney and Laura have to stay put in a single place for a while and end up essentially cohabiting, regardless of what their relationship is at that point. Take “cohabiting” as literally or as creatively as you want -- in any case, I’m sure it will be marvelously disastrous and amazing.

-Slight or major AU from the opening of “The Ways of the Dead”: Laura has hitchhiked with Sweeney instead of going off in a huff with Wednesday, or she otherwise gets to New Orleans sooner, and she and Sweeney tear up the town together. Gimme bar fights, carnival shenanigans, backstage craziness with the Christian rock band (Sweeney seems to have a backstage pass on a lanyard around his neck when Laura finds him)… Maybe they even cross the paths of some loa and it doesn’t get all angsty (for what it’s worth, I think the reason the sex magic didn’t bring Laura back to life was because she couldn’t accept the truth(s) revealed during the astral-plain sex – see how she defaults straight to “this is all Wednesday’s evil plan” the morning after – not because the loa fucked them over as Sweeney said). They were actually getting along nicely in those first couple of scenes, only ribbing each other a little while still being their grouchy selves, before they got to Le Coq Noir. I wouldn’t have minded seeing some more of that.

-All the old gods hide their true appearance to an extent. A situation arises in which Laura sees Sweeney’s true, or at least old, self (I’m thinking of his surprise!poignant monologue about when he used to be a king, and the glimpse of him in full Celtic warrior mode in the S2 teaser). Or Wednesday’s war ends in victory, meaning the old gods again get belief, worship, and sacrifices. How does Laura, the ultimate skeptic even when she’s on the other side of the mirror, react? How does this new knowledge and new reality change her opinion of/attitude to Sweeney? Or to flip that around, if Sweeney were again relevant and believed-in, would that actually change his bad attitude and fix his issues (my guess is it would be complicated)?

-The power of names: for all his “dead wifeing,” there comes a time when Sweeney (has to) call her by her actual name, and that’s a tricky moment for them to navigate. Or, Mad Sweeney is almost certainly not his actual name, since true names have great magical power and so must be kept secret; Laura discovers or learns his name, from someone else or from himself; what does she do with that knowledge? Or, Sweeney gets to say “cunt” in a situation (sexual or otherwise) where, not only does Laura not peel his lips from his gums, but she finds that she can’t object, even though she knows that he knows that he’s getting away with it.

-So far in canon, it’s pretty clear that Sweeney has a lot of complicated but sincere feelings for Laura. But Laura is still pretty focused on Shadow (or rather her idealized vision of Shadow and what their relationship might yet be), whom she seems to equate with her own lost-maybe-to-be-regained life, although she’s starting to soften toward Sweeney as she realizes he’s doing things for her that are not all about getting his coin back (and her sparring match with Wednesday in “Muninn” may finally force her to accept that her relationship with Shadow died alongside her and Robbie on that road in Indiana). Tell me the story of how Laura stumbles her way to starting to feel more complex, maybe kinder or softer, really annoying for her blunt-force-trauma-personality things about Sweeney and about the notion that her dynamic with him is different from the way she tended to use men for her convenience without really letting them in in the past. Also I’m pretty sure that even if they felt the same – or sorta in the same ballpark – about each other, their relationship would still run on a lot of conflict, and I would so be here for it.

-On that note: in “Munnin” it also becomes clear that Laura has, without realizing it herself, started to rely on Sweeney. The “I trusted you” line made me think, whoa she’s too mad to catch herself doing it but this is huge for Laura, and the fact that she goes off with Wednesday (!) basically because she’s mad at Sweeney because she thinks he’s prioritizing his debt to Wednesday over her… Yeah, I would like to see that explored some more and/or to see Laura and Sweeney get to a point where they trust each other and rely on each other, and know it and accept it, however difficult the getting there and being there may be for them.

-And since I’m on the subject of Laura, you know how she’s not actually an abrasive bitch all the time to everyone? And when she is, the people on the receiving end of it sometimes richly deserve it, and anyway it’s refreshing to see a female character who doesn’t bother flirting and accommodating others for the sake of social harmony? As much as I enjoy watching her rip into people (ahem, Sweeney), I also love it when she acts differently, like her genuine interest in getting to know Salim and her joy in seeing him again in S2, or her running passive-aggressive battle of wills with Wednesday, or even her general disaffection and numbness in “Git Gone.” Her beginning to feel sympathy for Sweeney and her anger and disappointment when she feels let down by him are a part of that, and I’d love to see all that explored more. Nuance! Give me all the nuance and seeming contradictions in both Laura and Sweeney’s characters!

-My perfect AG spinoff would basically be Sweeney and Laura tooling around America, looking to get her resurrected (whether they succeed or not is up to you), stealing ever more ridiculous vehicles, arguing/fighting and having those pesky moments where vulnerability and genuineness creep in – and fucking. So yessiree I’d be down for porn, including “it’s technically necrophilia/zombiesex” porn.

-All the petty, ridiculous ways in which Sweeney’s bad luck manifests itself make me laugh (can’t help it, won’t even try), and I’m down for more variations on that theme.

-If you wanted to throw in some worldbuilding, maybe something exploring living death. Magical bargains. What kind of favor did Sweeney do for Ostara that would be worth her bringing someone back to life as repayment? What other powers might Sweeney have (he doesn’t seem on a par with someone like Wednesday and Ostara, nor is he really a god, more a mythological being/kinda-deified former-mortal)? How long can a dead wife keep going before she’s “soup”? What other superhuman abilities might dead!Laura have? Can the dead do magic? What even are the rules governing and the limits of different beings’ magical abilities?

If it helps your inspiration, you can find some of my meta and lots of tag-burbling about these two here. I have read the book though I remember it only in bits and pieces, and while I prefer the show characters and the fact that they get thrown together, you can use or riff on book material if you want. With reference to one of my DNWs, for this canon, describing Laura’s physical decay is totally fine. Also, Shadow/Laura don’t interest me except as a part of Laura’s backstory (so if your story wants to include Laura figuring out or having already figured out that pinning all her hopes on Shadow to make everything right is unrealistic, unfair, and not how it works – by all means, go for it!), and Shadow/Sweeney interest me not at all.

My one canon-specific, really strong DNW for this pairing is this: I’m not into Laura being Essie’s reincarnation/descendant or – as fanon suggests and canon hints she may be – some sort of reincarnation of Sweeney’s wife from back when he was a king in old Ireland. Reincarnation/“new love looks like old love”/“lost love found again” plots bore me, and I don’t enjoy ships that hinge on characters being somehow destined to be together. Characters having agency is my jam as much as canon divergences are. Or if your fic really needs to go there, please please please don’t dwell on the Laura-Essie-Sweeney’s-wife-of-old thing, a brief mention would be more than enough. I’m certain Laura would have neither time nor patience for the notion that Destiny Fate and All That Jazz threw her together with ginger minge, and even if it were technically true, she’d still want this relationship to work on her terms – and Sweeney obviously has a problem with Laura’s cheating, her relationship with Shadow, her personality (though he also recognizes they’re alike in many ways), and all that maps onto his anger and sadness over becoming irrelevant over time, so it’s not just about Laura. So yeah, let them be their own (grumpy, spiky, dysfunctional) people, and let Laura’s dynamic with Sweeney not be shaped solely by his past and his issues.

Cabin Pressure

Carolyn Knapp-Shappey & Arthur Shappey & Martin Crieff & Douglas Richardson

Genres: Action/adventure, Canon-style plot, Humor, Slice of life

I just want more canon-y stories with their loopy humor and their weird yet loving family dynamics among the crew. Shenanigans in mid-flight or in the tedium which precedes and the tiredness which follows them. Someone smuggles (knowingly or not) an exotic animal on-board, legal, security, medical and/or slapstick chaos ensues. A mechanical, passenger- or smuggled-goods-caused problem arises and is solved during a journey. More games played on board GERTI. Playing around with a specific destination, like in many episodes, would be a plus. If it helps inspire you, my favorite episodes in terms of tone and content are: Douz, Gdansk, Johannesburg, Limerick, Ottery St. Mary, Uskerty, and Xinzhou.

For this canon, I prefer gen with maybe, if you want to go there, some Douglas/Carolyn on the side. That’s a ship I always thought had potential – they understand each other very well and trust each other... some of the time, but they’re both also snark-masters, tend to look down on anyone not as smart or quick-witted as they (Arthur being the sole – occasional – exception), and are really good about keeping their defenses up against other people. But I requested the gen group, and I definitely want the gen group – please don’t feel pressed to write the ship, that’s just a wild suggestion I threw out there.

Moonlighting (TV)

David Addison/Maddie Hayes

Genres: Action/adventure, AU - canon divergence, Canon-style plot, Established relationship, Getting together, Humor, Mystery/procedural, Slice of life

I osmosed tons about this show over the years but didn’t get around to watching it myself till recently. And then I loved it much more than I thought I would! Yeah, sure, some of it’s dated, and some of it’s ropey in terms of how the characters interact ( all the casual sexism and battle of the sexes stuff are very 80s indeed), but the chemistry! the banter! the funny! the shiptease! Gimme!

I tried to come up with lots of prompts, but ended up with a list of stuff I love about the show – and would love to see in fic – with some prompts mixed in. Hope it helps! Basically, give me as much of the show’s “flavor” as you can, and I’ll be happy.

My two DNW requests for this canon would be: please ignore everything that happens post-S3 (so if you want to write Maddie/David in the aftermath of their resolving their UST, please go ahead with the canon divergence of your dreams, I bet it’ll be a million times better than canon), and please don’t have secondary characters (Agnes and Herbert, or Maddie and David’s relatives and exes) hijack the story. They can be in it, but I really do want a David/Maddie story, despite the canon sometimes sidelining them due to behind-the-scenes shenanigans.

Prompts/likes:

-all the banter, wordplay, innuendo, puns, comic repetition

-arguments – those long, explosive, funny, overlapping, always hilarious fights they have

-breaking the fourth wall – yes, please. In canon, they often seem to know they’re fictional characters but ones that exist in the real world, with studio lots and such. Do they now know they’re characters in a fanfic of fictional characters that also exist in the real world, or something even more mind-screwy?

-David calling Maddie “blondie blond” – it just makes me laugh – and Maddie calling him “Addison” when angry but “David” when worried or when shit hits the fan

-random cultural nods – off the top of my head, canon referenced Spanish poetry, objectivism, American realist drama, Dr. Seuss, Shakespeare, of course all the Hollywood tropes and genres; go high or low culture, go famous or obscure, even if I don’t know the reference, I want it! Ditto if you decide on a plot that parodies and pays homage to a cultural landmark story (The Silence of the Lambs? Much Ado about Nothing? A Hitchcock movie? Something else?), I’d love it!

-speaking of: I love the pun-tastic episode titles referencing everything under the sun

-all the canon-era detail which both takes me back and jars me with how much things have changed: people smoking in public buildings, seeing someone off at the boarding gate, dial and push-button telephones, VHS rentals, no cellphones/internet, all the 80s fashion and permed hair… Throw it in just for kicks or weave it into the plot (e.g., they’re following someone and only have a paper map and their own faulty sense of direction to help them)

-casefic – I love the silly plots (and chases! All the chases!), which often combine really gruesome outcomes or real violence with slapstick. I’d be especially tickled if you wrote a plot that starts out silly and seemingly innocent (e.g., they get “hired” by a kid who lost their homework) but ends up deadly serious, or vice versa

-I also love the flashes of really dark humor, usually provided by David snarking about plot developments, though my favorite example remains the intro to S3E1, with David assuring his sick mother that they’ll sweep the Emmys, and then they lost big time and we see a title card saying that the mom died on Emmy night. What can I say but: ROFL

-Maddie and David are really pretty terrible detectives, but they always manage to solve the mystery – or a solution falls into their laps – and I’m here for it

-Blue Moon almost never seems to take on actual paying clients – what else might David and Maddie do for much-needed cash? Bodyguards, extras on a movie, professional consultants on a movie (probably a really shlocky, C-grade production being filmed in the middle of nowhere), dance marathon, talent contest…

-all the shippiness before the UST becomes RST – in canon they slow-danced in a bar, they slept side by side on a plane, he’s snuck into her house multiple times when he was in trouble, etc. etc. etc. The sky’s the limit!

-maybe they get together in a different way than in canon and/or they have a relationship that departs from canon? Or how about if they resolve the UST as they do in canon, but then find a way to be both partners and lovers, without getting so wrapped up in what they each think the other one should be that they spoil everything? Basically, could they be mature enough to have a relationship that works for them both, or be friends with benefits, or hell even break up but remain each other’s most important person (and maybe still have sex occasionally)?

-tropes – the canon plays with so many tropes, you could too! Some suggestions: there’s only one bed, undercover as lovers/married/client and bodyguard, waking up married, any variation on Lady and the Tramp you can think of (including David having to pretend he’s a class act while Maddie has to play the slob, for a case or because of a situation with their families or…), they get zapped by a mad scientist they’re surveilling and swap bodies, etc.

-road trip! Oh the possibilities...

-playing Twenty Questions or another game during a boring stakeout, and personal revelations come spilling out

-Maddie’s experience as a model proves key to cracking a case, whether you want to make the whole story a riff on the world of fashion (The Devil Wears Prada parody, anyone?) or use that as a surprise plot point

-they get tangled up (again) in international espionage and go on a globe-trotting adventure, either chasing a MacGuffin or being chased – basically, get them out of Los Angeles and their relative comfort zone, and send them Indiana Jones-ing all over the world

-the show often makes 80s-typical mean jokes about Russia and the Cold War – what if a case took Maddie and David to the Soviet Union in its last years? Give me all the culture clashes, David being obnoxious and Maddie trying to be diplomatic, all the vodka, chases down frozen streets and over the frozen Neva River, dodging the KGB, sneaking around behind the scenes at the Bolshoi or Kirov Ballet and winding up on stage…

-when they visit a “rough” dive bar in S1, there’s a whole scene of David teasing Maddie to show tough-girl attitude, and she quips that she can’t wait till he has to accompany her to a high-society event. Um, yes please!

-they attempt to date like a regular couple, and stuff keeps getting in the way – whether they go to the opera/ballet and a fancy restaurant, or a basketball game and out for beers, or they try a quiet dinner and a movie at home (or all of the above!), canon-like complications keep interrupting. But then again, the ridiculous way they work is what brought them together in the first place. Bonus points if the fish-out-of-water partner ends up getting into the other one’s date-activity of choice, while snarking all the way.

-David has been to Maddie’s house multiple times – including to sleep over, both platonically and not – and they’ve both crashed at the office, but what little we see of David’s place, it seems to be a bachelor pad/hovel with a large yet mysteriously unfurnished living room. Maddie visits David/comes to spend the night/hides out with him from villains, and shenanigans ensue.

-canon often resolves the clash between David’s opportunism, happy-go-luckiness, and cockiness, and Maddie’s gentle idealism, worrywartness, and romanticism, by having David “win.” That can be funny, but what if the plot gave Maddie the right a bit more?

-I’m honestly not that into smut for this pairing - a fade to black, something implied, something referenced, innuendo, maybe brief flashes (heh) of what the characters think about/imagine/remember work much better with the canon’s overall tone, I think.

Likes:

I love pre-canon, canon, post-canon, canon-divergent, and missing-scene stories. I love character-driven and plot-driven stories equally, and I love fics which mix humor and angst/serious business when appropriate for the canon.

I love stories about characters at work and play, group dynamics, family dynamics (including constructed families), professional partnerships, friendships, alliances, rivalries, intimate couples (new lovers/first times as well as long-term/established couples), UST-ridden couples who are not just UST-ridden but connected in other ways too, etc.

I love irony, snark, humor as well as angst arising from the characters rather than the plot crowbaring it in, linear, non-linear, and 5+1 stories, hopeful endings, happy endings, bittersweet endings, worldbuilding, spiky characters who keep their jagged edges and spikiness in adversity as well as when their lives are going well, square-peg-in-round-hole characters, characters who are their own worst enemies as well as those who can get over themselves when the occasion calls for it, characters with conflicting values which may or may not be reconciled/resolved, characters who treat each other with respect and as equals even if they hate/annoy/can’t stand/love to dislike each other.

I especially love workplace stories (this can mean anything from an actual workplace/casefic/procedural setting to anything that revolves around the canon world in which the characters live) in which the characters are competent and dedicated to the job, and while they may not be exactly friends and they may well irritate one another, they still manage to rub along to get the job done and maybe even grow to care about one another (much to their surprise and sometimes reluctance/discomfort). Or, if they can’t get along, show me why not and what’s preventing them from finding common ground.

In terms of ship dynamics, I love (where it fits the characters) banter, competitiveness or antagonism shading into attraction (this tension need not be resolved), oh-god-why-did-it-have-to-be-you-what-did-I-do-to-deserve-this, bickering yet loving couples, faithfulness, characters who are serious about their romantic interests, characters who think they are much better at flirtation than they actually are, characters forced to work together only to prove much more compatible than they initially assumed, fics which mix an exploration of characters’ professional and everyday lives with shipping. A dynamic I cannot resist is shipping a couple who are incompatible in some important way (they are ideological enemies, cop and criminal, spies from opposite sides, one betrayed the other or they betrayed each other), and while they love and want each other they’re also not willing to change sides or surrender/compromise their identity for the other’s benefit, and how they might (or not) make their relationship work anyway.

I don’t have any very specific likes for smut, other than smut fitting the characters – show me how their canon dynamics spill over into the bedroom (or other place of congress). I also like sexual scenarios that subvert expectations a little and surprise the characters themselves (e.g., the person who’s usually quiet or more passive taking charge, the more aggressive person goes with it possibly snarking or commenting on it as long as they can). And I like sexual scenarios that contain an element of competition, antagonism, oh-god-this-is-a-bad-idea-but-we’re-going-for-it-hammer-and-tongs, not wanting to admit feelings or show vulnerability except oops it happens anyway, whether the characters acknowledge it or not, or just people getting way more into it or being more affected by it than they thought they would. When it fits the characters and their canon dynamic, you also can’t go wrong with we-both-wanted-this-for-forever-and-now-we-both-know-it-so-here-we-go-diving-in-headfirst. For het and/or slash, oral, vaginal, anal incl. pegging, manual (ifyouknowwhatImean) – it’s all good. You can go as veiled or as explicit as you like, but please avoid excessive medical jargon – I don’t find a lot of mention of “penis” or “clit” sexy.

DNWs:

MPREG, A/B/O, knotting, D/s, kinks, incest, underage, genderswap/genderbent characters, xeno, non-/dub-con, torture and abuse (this and non-/dub-con can be mentioned if the story needs it, but please don’t dwell on it in loving detail or subject any of my requested characters to it), dwelling on bodily fluids (mentions of gore/blood and come are fine), toilet humor, character bashing, issuefic, gender/sexuality/race/ethnicity/religion/ability/identity headcanons, unrequested ships, soulmates and soul marks, major character death (unless it’s canon), serious illness or injury, pregnancy and children, holiday or wedding setting/theme, secondary characters shipping the main pair like it’s their job, reference to RL current events, 1st/2nd person POV, AUs which have nothing to do with canonf

#dear author letter #fandom 5k fic exchange

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todaydreambelieversfic · 8 years ago

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AUTHOR SPOTLIGHT: Fearlessly Day 1

Our first new look SPOTLIGHT.

We’re spending the next five days spotlighting fearlessly , an author whose specialty is hitting the real feeling and romance of a good angst-fest. Find her @fearlesslygleefics

DAY 1: Meet the author

Why Klaine?

I think first I need to answer: why Glee? … I remember being intrigued by the previews; it was a show about musicals, where people actually sang on every episode. I’ve always loved music and musical theatre, so naturally I started watching Glee when the pilot aired. The motley crew of characters were so unique, and at the same time so relatable in one way or another, that I became instantly hooked.

As season one continued, the character which spoke to me the most, not necessarily because I related to him exactly – but more so because of how strongly the actor was committed and invested in him, was Kurt. Chris’s portrayal of Kurt was outstanding and, from the moment I noticed him in the pilot, I couldn’t keep my eyes off of him. I liked him because he was snarky and funny and didn’t take any crap from anyone (“One day, you will all work for me.”). But, he was also soft, sensitive, compassionate, and he loved his dad so fiercely. It was hard not to love that character. I fell for him completely.

... Keep reading for how Fearlessly fell for Blaine, what to expect in her writing, how to keep an angsty story from leaving your readers heartbroken and what Fearlessly likes about her own writing (always the toughest question)

I wished the world for Kurt. Every week I watched with baited breath rooting him on. I wanted him to feel included, loved, worthy and entitled to everything everyone else was. I hoped he would find himself and come out to at least his dad. After he did (in such a beautifully heart-wrenching scene), I hoped he would find a boy who would accept him and love him for who he was. I wanted him to be able to hold hands with that boy, kiss him, and do everything else straight high-school couples do. I wanted all of this for Kurt before Blaine came into the picture.

When Never Been Kissed aired and I first laid eyes on that dapper, hazel-eyed boy (much like Kurt did), I wanted it all for Kurt even more. And I quickly realized that I wanted it all for Blaine too. In that moment, Klaine became end-game, and there was nothing anyone could say or do to make me believe otherwise. Darren’s excellent and subtle portrayal of Blaine (as the writers weren’t fully invested in the character at the time), made it easy for me to fall in love with not only the character, but the couple. Their dynamic, chemistry, and idiosyncrasies with each other hit me right in the heart and have remained there ever since.

I didn’t immediately start reading and writing fic. I enjoyed their story on TV (sometimes screaming and crying at the writers’ decisions for them) to the very end. It was only after the series ended that I entered the fanfic realm. It was a way to help me cope with losing something that had been very dear to me for six years. It may seem silly but, even though season six was a disaster, I grieved the loss of Glee. It had been like a friend who would always cheer me up on a bad day (and I still watch it when I need a boost). So, yes, I started writing to cope, and as a result, I fell in love with Klaine even more.

Why Klaine? How could it not be Klaine? These boys have my heart and it’s an honour to write them and bring them to life in whatever small way I can.

2. What’s in a typical fearlessly story?

Angst, angst, and more angst - at least that’s what I’ve been told. I guess it’s true, I won’t deny it. I love writing (and reading) angst. The thing about it though is that I always take care of Kurt and Blaine in the end. That’s doesn’t mean that they ultimately have flowers and rainbows and glitter stickers. I often put them through the wringer, actually; but in the end they have resolution and happiness.

A typical fearlessly story shows Kurt and Blaine being equal partners. I know that in canon there were many times when they were not seen in that way, and in reality, couple dynamics aren’t always that way either, but it’s very important to me that Kurt and Blaine be equal in my stories. They may not always be perfect, but they will not always be perfect together.

Lastly, I am open to writing almost any trope / verse as long as it can be written in a way that keeps Kurt and Blaine on equal footing and I am able to ultimately take care of the characters. I’ve found though that I tend to lean towards: hurt / comfort, family, age difference, and dom/sub

3. What kind of stories do you write?

Recently I came up with my own genre: Romangst (maybe it already exists, but I’ve never seen it). I love mixing the two genres of romance and angst together. All of my stories, including my one-shots, have varying degrees of angst in them, spanning anything from self-doubt to death-bed type stuff. Usually the best way to balance the angst (so that we all don’t die of a heart attack) is to include comedy. I have quickly learned that I’m not the best at writing humour, so I balance mine with doses of romance and fluff.

Another way to balance out angst, and conveniently ties in with romance, is to include sex scenes, or smut, if you will. Many of my stories include smut, but not all of them. There is a time and a place for it in my writing. Some tropes are naturally more prone to include sex. My d/s series and my m-preg story, for examples, include quite a bit of sexy times for the boys.

If I had to label it, I would say that I write mostly AU and canon divergent. It’s rare for me to write canon compliant, although my series, One which is based off season one, is pretty much that. I guess it’s safe to say I like to challenge myself with my writing and the trope / genre I choose to write is only limited to my mood.

4. What do you like about your writing?

This is a hard one for me to answer because, some days … many days, I don’t like anything about my writing. Sometimes, only my beta can convince me to not delete everything I’ve written. If you are a fan of my writing, you should thank her, because my list of published works would only be half as long if it weren’t for her. (Thank you @aj4668)

But there are days when I do like my writing and I’m trying hard to have more of those days. Receiving kudos and positive comments help, and I have been so lucky to have a readership that lets me know when they like a piece. I am grateful to every one of those people who have ever given my stories positive and/or constructive feedback. It is very motivating to read those.

So, to answer the question, what I like about my writing (I’m stalling) … is that it comes from an authentic place. I stay true to the characters to the best of my ability, and I care what happens to them. I guess maybe my writing has integrity in that I won’t bend their characters to something unrecognizable – at least I hope that comes through in the writing.

Another thing is that when I read fic, I love to read something that touches my heart. I love the brand of angst that gives me a physical pang to my chest, and the resolution that makes me cry. I have felt that angsty jolt and have cried while writing some of my own work, so I guess I like that my writing makes me … feel.

TOMORROW: Fearlessly recs her fic for your reading pleasure!

#fearlesslysgleefics #author spotlight

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jbankai89 · 7 years ago

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Fic: The Stag and The Snake, Part I, Chapter Two - Negotiations

My good friend and braintwin @kuriquinn suggested I try posting my actual fics on Tumblr, rather than just linking them, so I'm giving it a try. For those of you following my work on AO3 or AFF, these will be reposts until I'm caught up and everything is posted. :)

Title: The Stag and the Snake

Author: JBankai89

Status: Complete, Part 1: 12/12 Part 2: 22/22

Rating: Part 1: PG-13, Part 2: NC-17

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin

Achievements: None

Warnings: Violence and Gore, Violent Sexual Assault, Minor Character Death

Summary: Vernon Dursley is enraged with the prospect of raising a boy he never wanted. Petunia recalls something that might help them get the child out of their hair more quickly. Overcoming their recalcitrance for anything magical, they invoke The Rite of Betrothal. Who will Harry be forced to marry, and will he be able to cope with all the demands it will entail?

Word Count: Part 1: 46 772 Part 2: 85 442